A 50's melodrama and superhero hodgepodge

RAT PFINK A BOO BOO (1966)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

In what is clearly an even funnier title than Ray Dennis Steckler's most infamous film, "The Incredible Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies," "Rat Pfink a Boo Boo" has got to be the most ridiculous piece of trash ever recorded on celluloid. It is so amateurishly and shoddily made that you would swear it was a parody, but the director has insisted that that was not the case from the get go.

The first few scenes have a 50's cheap melodrama vibe where we witness an anonymous woman being pursued by three thieves out for a thrill. One of the thieves carries a chain, another carries a hammer, and another gives a wicked, nonstop laugh. They kill the girl, take her purse, and that is about it. So far, it is silly but it has some measure of momentum (though the perky musical score doesn't help matters). Then we are shown what looks like documentary footage of a rock singer named Lonnie Lord's (Vin Saxon) who signs autographs and carries a guitar with him wherever he goes, in the hopes of playing for anybody, anywhere, at anytime. This includes barbecues where the chef wears an Oscar Myer apron! And on the beach where a full band seems to perform when he sings, yet nobody is around for the instrumentation we hear on the soundtrack (the whole film was post-dubbed and it shows).

Moving along to the bare minimum of a story, Lonnie's girlfriend CB Beaumont (Carolyn Brandt) is being harassed on the phone by someone who calls three times, asks for her name, and then hangs up. Who is it? It turns out it is one of those hooligans from the opening sequence who is looking for a thrill and searches her name randomly in a phone book! In the next scene, she is kidnapped by those hooligans! They hopefully had a stop in between at the Korova Milkbar.

Before things can get any worse, Lonnie and his girlfriend's gardener partner team up and dress up in costume as Rat Phink and Boo Boo, a carbon copy of Batman and Robin! I am serious! Apparently, director Steckler didn't like the first 40 minutes of footage he shot, which was supposed to be a gritty crime film, so he chose to make it into a superhero film! Ouch! And we also get a Harold Lloyd lookalike and a gorilla named Kogar played by Kogar! We also hear songs like "You Is a Rat Fink" (my favorite) "Runnin' Wild," "I Stand Alone," and "Go Go Party," which are the the only semi-dazzling highlights.

It isn't that the film is bad as much as it has nothing to offer. At least Steckler's first film, "The Incredible Strange Creatures, etc." had a nervous energy and real style. This film looks to have been made by eight-year-olds in their own backyard! Maybe that was the point but there are funnier bad movies than this one.

Random shootings in San Francisco

THE SNIPER (1952)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Aside from two murders committed by a mentally unbalanced man with a handy rifle, "The Sniper" is largely a white bread thriller - meaning that it is soft and fluffy and it tries to be a polemic but fails to ignite or cause much of a stir.

Eddie Miller (Arthur Franz) is a loner, living in a San Francisco boarding house and working as a cleaner delivery man. He is trying to work through his murderous impulses which includes unpacking an army rifle with a scope and aiming at pedestrians from his bedroom window. His homicidal urges are brought on by loose women who sing in bars or appear to be prostituting themselves, that is making themselves available to any man after being dumped. It is implied, through some ludicrously histrionic acting, that he rejects such women so he has to kill them (he turns away in disgust when seeing a kissing couple on a bench). Marie Windsor is a bar pianist who likes Miller because he delivers her clean dresses and will make last-minute deliveries for her - however, she has no romantic interest in him which obviously anger him.

50 percent of "The Sniper" centers on Miller rejected, bullied and scolded by society - he can't even make young kids playing ball happy when he tosses the ball back to them. This is a man who can't catch a break and can't make time with his vacationing therapist. Miller is a ball of fury and hate and takes it out on women, not men or children. One particularly effective scene has Miller throwing a baseball at a circus performer where she falls in a small pool if he hits his target - after he keeps hitting the target, he starts throwing the baseball at the net with such uncontrollable fury that you will recoil. If only the movie had more moments like that.

But the film veers off course to provide insight into why Miller kills - big mistake. "The Sniper" was released in 1952 and so we are still dealing with Hays Code implemented pictures where random acts of violence must be explicated by a serviceable police psychiatrist (Richard Kiley) and an older police detective, Lt. Kafka (Adolphe Menjou), who wants to solve this case or else he will be back on the beat. So much time is devoted to these characters that you feel you are watching a high-profile episode of "Dragnet."

After all is said and done, "The Sniper" lacks grit and purpose. Arthur Franz may overdo the psychotic trauma of this ex-soldier so much that you wonder why nobody suspects him from the start (his crying fits strike the wrong chord of sympathy). It is a pristine B picture, often well-mounted by director Edward Dmytryk ("The Caine Mutiny"), but the screenplay loses focus, aiming for preachiness rather than an amoral lurid melodrama that would have given it a pulpy punch. I wanted to learn more about Miller's impulses, his behavior towards women - in the end, we are told that the police thinks the sniper might be a registered sex offender. Seems like Miller has bigger issues beyond sex.

Groucho Marx reading from cue cards

SKIDOO (1968)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When you have a top-notch director like Otto Preminger and a great, able comic cast that includes Jackie Gleason, Groucho Marx and Carol Channing, you should expect fireworks. You expect at least a good comedy with a few laughs. You don't expect a haphazard effrontery to the comedy genre like "Skidoo," which seems to be two different movies running at once. It is a train wreck, and just as unwatchable.

The movie begins with a shot of a TV set where two different channels being switched back and forth - one is some live courtroom trial and the other is some John Wayne movie. Jackie Gleason is a retired mobster (do they get to retire?) and Carol Channing is the peroxide, free-loving wife, and they keep switching channels with their remotes. And this scene goes on for an eternity. And there is the flower-child daughter who is dating a hippie. And we get a cliched body-painting scene (though it is far more egregious in "The Swinger"). Finally, we are back to the flimsy plot which has Gleason going to Alcatraz so he can bump off his best friend, also a mobster and a snitch (Mickey Rooney).

Added to this strange amalgam of genres is Groucho Marx as a mob boss named "God"; Frankie Avalon as a mobster who runs into these hippies; Frank Gorshin as some inmate at Alcatraz; a makeshift hot-air balloon; and nothing short of three psychedelic LSD montages (one in slow-motion), including the Green Bay Packers playing football with their bare asses showing!

"Skidoo" is so flatly directed and staged that it becomes unbearable to sit through, no matter how absurd is the notion of hippies and gangsters in the same movie. Still, even if it doesn't gel, the very absurdity of it all could have wrung some laughs. Aside from the opening title theme song sung by Channing at the end, there are no laughs and not one moment that made me remotely chuckle. The late director Preminger claimed that since he had done LSD, he could make the movie. Well, he made something that can be called anything but a movie. It is a monumental disaster. You know it is a bad movie when Groucho Marx seems to be reading from cue cards.

Hiding Out in Welles' masks

MR. ARKADIN (1955)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Orson Welles had never been lucky when it came to making films. After "Ctizen Kane," Welles had his films taken away from him, usually resulting in drastic re-editing and destroyed footage. "Magnificent Ambersons" is certainly proof of this, and so is "Mr. Arkadin," a film project that took four years to make. When it was finally released, it barely resembled the original product.

The story deals with a certain Mr. Arkadin (Orson Welles), a wealthy tycoon who is suffering from amnesia. He is found by a Guy Van Stratten (Robert Arden), a con-man hired by Arkadin to do a confidential report. The report is to be on Arkadin, who has no memory of what has happened to him in the last twenty years since establishing his fortune. Van Stratten has been looking for Arkadin since hearing his name and his association with fortune from a dying man's last breath (his partner in crime, Mily played by Patricia Medina). He finds Arkadin through his daughter, Raina (Paola Mori), and they fall in love ever so briefly until he meets Arkadin at a masquerade. Once Van Stratten begins his search for Arkadin's secrets, he finds a past involving a white girl slavery ring, a former Professor who has a flea circus, and a Jakob Zouk (Akim Tamiroff) who knows more than he lets on aware that his knowledge of Arkadin puts him in harm's way. In a desperate search for truth to possibly blackmail the millionaire, Van Stratten travels from Paris to Spain and at every stop, Arkadin miraculously appears along with his personal secretaries and his spy network. Is Arkadin only pretending he has amnesia or is he trying to clear his name for his daughter's sake and for the undergoing intelligence check by the United States Army?

"Mr. Arkadin" bears all the trademarks of Welles's style. We have the shadowy, low-angle shots, the frenetic editing giving way to moments where time slows down, the overlapping of sounds and so on. Unfortunately, the English version I have seen of "Mr. Arkadin" (reportedly, four different versions exist) has been butchered badly - clear evidence of tampering and lack of the necessary budget to complete the film. Some shots are bleached out and others have asynchronous sound which is quite distracting. Supposedly Welles had wanted the film to be structured as flashbacks with Van Stratten telling his story of Arkadin to Jacob Zouk, but that version was abandoned in favor of something more linear (similar film butchery occurred with "Touch of Evil"). This version, however, makes little sense and sometimes the sound is so inaudible that it is difficult to grasp what is happening.

Robert Arden's performance has been criticized as lacking any wit or style but I do not think he was meant to be shown as more clever or charismatic than he is. Arden finds the right tone of disgruntled allure - a man every bit as corrupt as Arkadin (he even lets his girlfriend, Mily, meet with Arkadin alone!) It is Mori (Welles''s wife at the time) who is a complete bore to watch - there is little grace or mystery in the character which one can attribute to the script. Welles himself uses grandiloquent speech patterns to hide the true self from Arkadin, but there is little or no trace of humanity in the character. Welles looks great and does a fine job of showing how he covers up his past indiscretions and deceits by literally wearing masks. Still, it is not enough to disguise the fact that the character is a cipher, and some of Welles's mannered gestures and body language might seem more appropriate in a play, not a film. Some films work even when dealing with a cipher, a man with no past (like Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name from those spaghetti westerns) but some degree of an intriguing personality or behavioral aspects are needed to make up for it. Welles does a bang-up makeup job, and that is about it.

"Mr. Arkadin" succeeds as a curio, and for Welles's fans, it is worthwhile viewing. To the rest of us, it is one of those losses, post-"Citizen Kane," that gives scant evidence of Welles's genius behind and in front of the camera.

Vegas' cool factor

OCEAN'S ELEVEN (1960)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Though it is dated in every respect, "Ocean's Eleven" is an entertaining, relaxing film, probably the most relaxed film ever to depict a heist and its aftermath. But what distinguishes it from most similar pictures is its cast and its setting of a Las Vegas that no longer exists.

This classic 1960 picture directed by Lewis Milestone has all the famous Rat Pack members in their first major picture as a group. Frank Sinatra plays the debonair Danny Ocean who organizes all his buddies (all ex-military) to perform one daring, improbable heist - to rob five Las Vegas casinos at the same time. The plan is foolproof. All it takes is some preparation and expert timing, particularly when involving a certain blackout of an entire city.

One does not go to movies like "Ocean's Eleven" for anything more than dazzling entertainment. Dazzling is not what I would call it but certainly classy and clever are better descriptions. The major pleasure is seeing Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr., Peter Lawford and Joey Bishop performing together as they conspire, bicker, drink and croon. As for the latter, two major highlights involve singing. One is the title track "Ee-O-Eleven" sung by Sammy Davis, Jr. and the other is Dean Martin rocking on with "Ain't that a kick in the head." These scenes are simply there as in-jokes, in a sense, since the Rat Pack was performing in Vegas at the time while making this film (look closely at the final shot of the film for direct proof of this). Sammy's rendition of "Ee-O-Eleven" is sublime because the lyrics refer to the joys of being rich - "Someday I'll have me a chauffeur, and a block long limosine."

Robbing these casinos will make them rich but there is always a glitch, as usual. Lawford's character's future stepfather (Cesar Romero) has connections with the police in town and other sources and has the resources to find out who committed these robberies. It only takes the harmless comments made by Lawford's character's mother to spill the beans since Romero proves unsuccessful at finding any connections to any outfit.

Some of the dialogue sparkles like fine old wine and sometimes it smacks of raw vinegar. One of the greatest character actors of all time, Akim Tamiroff (who plays the master planner behind the casino heists), delivers the coup de resistance line after hearing that his crew might be dead - "The Los Angeles County Morgue!" You have to watch Tamiroff to see how priceless the scene is. But the occasional clunker creeps in. Example: "Our marriage got drowned in champagne," as said by Angie Dickinson in a throwaway role as Danny Ocean's ex-wife.

"Ocean's Eleven" is sparkling, classy entertainment that feels long because of how much time is invested in the gathering of the crew, the planning of the robbery and the final outcome resulting in a hysterical, morose ending that will leave you in a mild state of shock. Actually, this is a film about the Rat Pack in all respects, showing their attitude, their clothes and their debonair qualities. And of course, with the exception of Sinatra, their singing.

Big Trouble in Red China

THE CHAIRMAN aka THE MOST DANGEROUS MAN IN THE WORLD (1969)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Often engrossing and captivating, J. Lee Thompson's "The Chairman" is also a comic-book film about spies but done with whip-smart dialogue and fine acting that help elevate it from any number of anonymous 1960's spy pictures post-James Bond.

Gregory Peck is Dr. Hathaway, a Nobel Prize scientist who is sent by the U.S. government on a difficult mission to China. The mission: pretend to be a defector and find an unfinished formula for an agricultural enzyme that allows wheat crops to grow during any type of climate. If Dr. Hathaway fails to find the formula from another scientist and former associate of Hathaway's, Dr. Siong Li (Keye Luke), then, well, why reveal too much here. Let's say that the reliable U S of A has implanted a chip in Hathaway's skull that is more than a listening device.

Interestingly, "The Chairman" builds its suspense slowly rather than on extended chase sequences. Most riveting is an encounter the good American doctor has with Mao Tse Tung (Conrad Yama) - the controversial chairman of Communist China is not depicted as a one-dimensional cartoon but rather as a human being trying to come to terms with American diplomacy. The star of the film is really the titanic presence of Gregory Peck, who is credible and believable from one scene to the next. He makes us believe that he is the only one who can handle this dangerous mission, and makes us believe he might also fail.
Most riveting in "The Chairman" is the depiction of peasants in Red China, all holding Mao's Little Red Books. The opening title sequence is explosive, thanks to bullseye editing by Richard Best and overpowering music by Jerry Goldsmith, that depicts Mao's China with striking shots of the people overlapped with portraits of Mao. The rest of the film is essentially a chase picture with Peck trying to steal the formula while evading the Red Army, meanwhile there is that issue with the listening device...

"The Chairman" is practically old-fashioned entertainment, dependent on dialogue and wit than on special-effects. The intense climax, which includes a wounded Peck trying to squeeze himself under a wire charged with 10,000 volts, has got to be seen to be believed. You won't believe a minute of it, but it doesn't mean it won't thrill you.

Wandering amnesiac in New York

MISTER BUDDWING (1966)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

If there is one kind of story I love, it is the tale of the wandering amnesiac. Though hardly the best example of it, "Mister Buddwing" is a solid tale of anxiety and helplessness, at least for 3/4 of the way through.

James Garner, in a rare and dramatic performance, is walking around Central Park in New York, unaware of who he is or where he comes from. The first shot of the film shows his point of view, which is deliberate skewed as he tries to focus on the New York City skyline and eventually looks at his hands. He carries a ring with an inscription that reads "From GV." He also has a phone number and calls it, not knowing who will answer. Someone named Gloria (Angela Lansbury) has the number, and Mr. Anonymous arrives at her residence. She doesn't know him and he certainly doesn't recognize her, so you could say the plot thickens. He gives himself the name Sam Buddwing, due to a Budweiser truck and an airplane he spots. Nothing of his past or any memories are triggered until he sees a woman (Katharine Ross) sitting on a bench. Could she be the elusive Grace, his wife?

"Mister Buddwing" develops efficiently with an effortless, driving rhythm - you want to see where Mister Buddwing is going and where he will end up. The city of New York has been used in many films but, here, it has the nightmarish, black-and-white power of noir pictures like "The Naked City" or even one set in London, the fantastic "Night and the City." The city seems mysterious and in certain shots overlooking a bridge or on city streets, even desolate and frightening. Director Delbert Mann ("Marty") and cinematographer Ellsworth Fredericks really capture the intensity and emotional emptiness of a city that could care less if you are amnesiac. A handful of hand-held camera shots (a cliche in this day and age) and the documentary feel of city life, especially when Buddwing has a headache and seems to ready to fall on the pavement, are wonderfully captured. There are exquisitely handled scenes in cafes and hotels that are done with remarkable restraint, again imploring us to find out little clues about Buddwing.

Unfortunately, by the time we find out what is really going on with Buddwing and discover his true identity, we feel cheated. I wouldn't dream of giving it away but it is less than revealing and somehow negates the buildup that we have invested in for almost an hour and a half. It is not a bad finish, but it is an anticlimactic one.

As I have mentioned, "Mister Buddwing" belongs in the tradition of my favorite kind of stories - a man searching for his identity. What is great about such a story, especially one involving an amnesiac, is that the filmmakers can exploit this idea and pursue it in any manner they wish. We learn he may be a music composer and we do know his wife is named Grace, or do we. Those kind of unclear questions and search for identity could've gone in any direction, and by the time we get to a backroom alley of poker with Jean Simmons as a true floozie, we begin to wonder what strange, hypnotic walk we are gazing upon. The movie is terrific and Garner is in fine form, as is Katharine Ross, Suzanne Pleshette and Jean Simmons. But such a strange, fun ride to the dark side could've benefitted from a truly climactic finish instead of the one we are saddled with. See it, but try to forget the ending.

Watch the Skies for the Iceman Cometh

THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD (1951)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

During the 1970's through the 80['s, I grew up watching 1950's atomic monster and various otherworldly alien pictures. Who can forget "Them!" or "The Day The Earth Stood Still" or "The War of the Worlds"? "1951's "The Thing From Another World" is not really an atomic monster picture but it is a spellbinding treat of an alien picture. Not a great movie but a highly satisfactory one. 

A group of U.S. Air Force crew members are sitting at an Alaskan bar playing cards. A press reporter intrudes, looking for any story to print about the government. Before you can say the Iceman Cometh, the crew is requested at a North Pole outpost where a mysterious flying craft has crashed. Kenneth Tobey is Captain Hendry, who leads his crew and the reporter to the site. It turns out the aircraft is a flying saucer, a giant one at that. Thermite bombs are used to thaw out the ship but the crew accidentally destroy it instead. A large block of ice holds some man in it, or is it an alien? Dr. Carrington (Robert Cornthwaite) has his team of doctors decipher from samples that this "thing" is some sort of vegetable monster. Oh, thank God, I guess it won't eat or attack humans, will it?

From first frame to last, "The Thing From Another World" conveys major doses of tension and suspense. Thankfully the filmmakers, including director Christian Nyby and famed producer Howard Hawks (who allegedly, depending on who you ask, also had directorial control), opt not to show much of the monster. When the monster does appear, it is quick and abrupt enough to make an impression without dwelling on the creature's appearance (played by James Arness, who looks like a North Pole variation on Karloff's Frankenstein Monster). But "The Thing" also has a few other goodies in store. Kenneth Tobey is convincingly stoic and sly, especially when flirting with his girlfriend, Carrington's secretary (a nice touch of dignified humor and class by Margaret Sheridan). Their relationship provides a nice balance from the film's frequent outbursts of horror, sometimes induced by loud bangs or quiet beeps, not to mention doors slamming open from the cruel winter weather, the reveal of a dead sled dog found in a compartment, the beeping of a Geiger counter, or the famously jolting moment when Captain Hendry opens a door to find the alien waiting.

Also worth a mention is Robert Cornthwaite as Dr. Carrington, who has one of those quiet, soothing voices that makes you want to hear every word he says. For comic relief, there is Douglas Spencer as Ned Scott, a nerdy reporter who comes across more manly than the average nerd and gets to deliver the film's famous last line.

"The Thing From Another World" is a solidly absorbing, tightly coiled monster flick that bares little relation to its original literary source, "Who Goes There?" by John W. Campbell, Jr. It is a patriotic sci-fi horror picture, where the Americans can do no wrong in fighting the fight. That might seem like a dated notion but the patriotic slant does continue to operate in America today. Today's audiences would probably not give this film a second look. Oh, it is in black-and-white! Oh, it is from another century! Oh, the monster only appears for a total of three minutes. May the cinema gods have pity on all of you naysayers.

Welcome to your planet

PLANET OF THE APES (1968)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I might get burned for this but I consider "Planet of the Apes" one of the cheesiest sci-fi films ever made. Cheesy because the concept seems shallow, unrewarding and never takes itself too seriously. A planet full of apes who consider themselves superior to the human race is an idea worth exploring but it is not given the scope and intelligence it so richly deserves.

By now, the original "Planet of the Apes" has become a staple of American pop culture. The bare-chested Charlton Heston spouting such lines as "Get your paws off me, you dirty ape!" and yelling while being hosed down in his cell (Mr. NRA is also quite adept with a rifle) is the stuff of Americana at its hokiest. There is also the scantily-clad human female who mostly looks adoringly at Heston and smiles. The ape council played by distinguished actors such as James Whitmore and Maurice Evans (who plays Dr. Zaius). There is also the wonderful team of Roddy McDowall and Kim Hunter as the ape scientists who feel there is proof of a human existence long before the apes on their planet. And the final shocking image of the Statue of Liberty that remains the most memorable image in the sci-fi canon.

"Planet of the Apes" has a fascinating start as we see the astronauts, including Heston, land on the planet which is as dry and arid as any they had ever seen. Before long they discover humans are used as slaves by apes, thus realizing it is several hundred years into the future indeed. The apes also believe that humans are inferior because they can't talk yet Heston finally has the ability to speak after being tranquilized, uttering the famous line of dialogue. After that scene, things go downhill somewhat, alternating between unintentional humor and some rather sophomoric action scenes. None of it makes a whole lot of sense but there is an underlying social commentary taking place, mostly that the apes begin to see a human face in the humans they captured whom they consider ugly and bestial. It takes a while for them to recognize Heston is not like any other human. The racism angle, particularly for the time of the film's release, is clearly felt.

"Planet of the Apes" is puerile and cheesy but it is fun to watch. Heston overacts but is always a watchable presence. The apes are always credibly played by all the actors, and the late Roddy McDowall does come off best. But the concepts and ideas that were so fascinating to begin with are underdeveloped and unfinished. I still like some meat with my cheese.

Sinning in Suburbia, circa 1960

STRANGERS WHEN WE MEET (1960)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Kim Novak will always be Madeleine in Hitchcock's masterpiece "Vertigo." Although she is one of the loveliest presences of the last forty years, she has seldom been used well. Outside of Hitchcock, she gave a poor performance in "Picnic" where it was readily apparent that she was straining to fall in love with William Holden's character. Although that may have been the intention, Novak always seemed penurious. "Strangers When We Meet" was one of the few times where Novak's acting flowed from the character she played.

Kirk Douglas plays Larry Coe, a Californian architect who feels like a sell-out for making the same designs for the same exact houses. He gets the golden opportunity to make a house with a bizarre design for a successful author (Ernie Kovacs), and does it so that he isn't as restricted in choosing unimaginative clients. Larry has the typical trappings of your average suburban family - a nice wife, a beautiful lawn, a child, etc. It is unclear if Larry is happy, especially since his wife is so deeply involved in his career choices (she obviously wants him to make money). A neighbor named Maggie (Kim Novak) opens his eyes to a potential affair. At first, she is disinterested in going for a simple ride with Larry to the designated hill where a new house will be built. Slowly, she grows to accept him and falls in love. In other words, it is a tale told so many times in the exact same setting - suburbia (these tales come tenfold on Lifetime television every week). What cues the interest is that the film was released in 1960, the beginning of a new era where 1950's attitudes and values still meant something, particularly taking care of a family, yet were about to be headed in a new direction with women's lib and so on. The last thing you would expect is for Maggie or Larry to leave their families to pursue their affair beyond their tidy existence of suburban heaven.

There is one scene that evokes an honest, almost frightening disturbance to the calm and idyllic nature of pleasantville. Walter Matthau plays Larry's best friend, Felix, who astutely reads body language and notices that Larry is having an affair with Maggie. Felix attempts to seduce Larry's wife in a sequence that is as scintillating and subversive as one can imagine - he taunts her with piercing words and one senses that she almost plays into his hands.

Beyond that, Kirk Douglas ably performs though he seems more willing to pick up a spear than make love to Kim Novak, especially in the passage where she admits to having a prior affair. Kim Novak really startles the eyes and the ears with her incandescent beauty and dreamy voice, possessing all the characteristics that made her a spectacular success in "Vertigo." She also displays her need for love, particularly to her husband in a scene that will make you squirm since the husband seems so repressed and loveless - how can anyone resist Kim Novak? Ernie Kovacs, who died shortly after making this film, provides ample comic relief as the friendly, sensitive ear to Larry. And Matthau is at his best, playing a nearly-villainous neighbor whose main weapon is seduction.

"Strangers When We Meet" is no classic and its melodramatic, syrupy, soap-opera theatrics with swooning, syrupy, sentimental music may cause many to tune out. But I admire the performances and the revelations about marriage and commitment in an era where such ideals were often met with more success than they are today. It wasn't all as squeaky-clean and repressed as we might have thought, and this film proves it.

Falconetti's saintly, wounded Joan

THE PASSION OF JOAN OF ARC (1928)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Amazingly, there have been a few remakes of Carl Theodor Dreyer's passionate, powerful film, "The Passion of Joan of Arc." I say amazingly because I am hard pressed to think anyone could make a superior film or come up with a better actress than Maria Renee Falconetti as the tortured, wounded, saintly Joan. Ingrid Bergman was not bad but let's face it: Falconetti is reason enough to believe that saints do exist.

Dreyer's film begins with the inquisition of Joan at her trial after being captured. Essentially, she is a farm girl who becomes a warrior. She is questioned in regards to her faith and where it stems from and if she feels God put her in her place to save France or if she is the Devil's handiwork. The inquisitors include mostly judges and orthodox theologians who watch every word and gesture Joan makes with relish. They try to provoke her, and they foolishly think that an illiterate nineteen year-old would have little faith or much understanding of her actions. They are surprised by her responses to say the least.

When Joan is asked who taught her the Lord's prayer, she sheds tears at the remembrance of her mother. When asked the most difficult question, if she is in a state of grace, she responds that she does not know if she is, but she hopes God will grant her grace and salvation. This is naturally considered blasphemy by the judges.

The undying power of "The Passion of Joan of Arc" is Carl Dreyer's attentive direction and superbly mobile camera, showing endless tracking shots and exquisite close-ups. There are lots of canted angles and little sense of space, mainly because it is constricted by the use of several close-ups. Most of these close-ups are of the judges, often showing them as monstrous and ugly when questioning or spitting at poor Joan. There are of course many extreme close-ups of Joan, sometimes allowing for lots of headroom to accentuate the high ceiling of the cathedrals. This kind of composition is rightfully disorienting, and it works in conveying Joan's own subjective disorientation. The visual language is incredible considering the film was made back in 1928, and it further establishes Dreyer as a principal artist of the silent film era and beyond with classic films like "Vampyr" and "Day of Wrath."

Of course, the majority of the film's success belongs to Maria Renee Falconetti as St. Joan, who never made another film since. She invigorates the sympathetic and pained soul of the martyred Joan as fully as anyone can imagine. Falconetti shows the enlightenment, the emotional wounds, the startled eyes as if hinting that she had seen God, the flowing tears, the sly smiles, and the gradual acceptance of her fate. This Joan suffers greatly as we see her faint while she stares at a wheel of spikes, and at another point, she is bled with a needle to cure a fever.

"Passion of Joan of Arc" is one of the greatest films ever made, as passionate and soulful a portrait of a scorned woman as you can imagine. Falconetti's performance is one of the most enlightening, on par with Gulietta Massina's work in "La Strada" - two of the foremost performances of the 20th century. Having seen the film three times, I confess that the restoration of this print, which includes illuminating music by Richard Einhorn titled "Voices of Light," adds enormously to the crescendo of the tragic finale that seals the fate of St. Joan. This is as vivid and human as films get.

Singing the praises and the pain of love

THE UMBRELLAS OF CHERBOURG aka LES PARAPLUIES DE CHERBOURG (1964)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

(Original review from 1996)

Catherine Deneuve is probably the most beautiful, attractive, mysterious blonde in cinema. In my opinion, her beauty is her magic and it draws enormous pathos and is unsurpassed in the history of film, even with the iconic, empathetic sexiness of Marilyn Monroe. I think part of her unmistakable beauty is her ability to play both weak and forlorn women in films such as "Repulsion" and "Belle De Jour," and strong, independent, callous women in films like "O Convento" and the lesbian vampire in "The Hunger." I have not seen all of Deneuve's films, but I doubt she's ever played such a vivacious, funny, charming woman who sings as she does in the seemingly riotous "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg."

In her film debut at the age of twenty, Deneuve plays the teenage Genevieve, a girl who works for her mother (Anne Vernon) at a small umbrella shop. Every day after work, Genevieve meets the local garage mechanic named Guy (Nino Castelnuovo) whom she is deeply in love with. Guy wants to marry her and whisk her away from her mother. There are complications, though. Her mother's shop is about to be closed down until a wealthy playboy, Roland Cassard (Marc Michel), offers to save it - of course, he is deeply smitten by Genevieve's beauty and falls in love with her. Her mother insists that she marry Cassard since Guy is out to be drafted to the army in Algeria for two years.

More complications ensue. Genevieve turns out to be pregnant. Since she only receives one letter from Guy, she accepts Cassard's marriage proposal, and his willingness to raise her child as their own. A few years later, Guy returns from the army only to discover that Genevieve has married, his mother is sickly, and her caretaker, Madeleine (Ellen Farmer), is in love with him.

Part of the charm of "The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" is that director Jacques Demy has turned this highly romantic film into a musical in the strangest sense. Demy's screenplay is full of the usual romantic cliches and witticisms except they are not spoken by the actors, they are sung! The movie gets funnier and funnier as it proceeds with its noble, inventive idea - it is equally pleasurable to watch Deneuve singing her shouting matches with her mother. After a while, we forget the actors are singing as the film gets richer and more serious leading to an unexpectedly touching finale.

"The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" also has exquisitely designed cinematography where the interior walls, chairs, tables, staircases and lights consist of primarily bright colors such as pink, blue, green and red - this partly pays homage to Hollywood's musicals where bright colors seemed to seep in every frame, especially Vincent Minneli's musicals. This is also partly a device where we are aware that we're not seeing the real world, but a fictional and dreamlike one.

"The Umbrellas of Cherbourg" is unlike any movie I have ever seen, and it is very similar to Woody Allen's recent "Everyone Says I Love You" where some of the characters sang at the most inappropriate moments, though they mostly sang famous songs of the 20's and 30's. In this case, the actors actually sing the dialogue. Jacques Demy's film has been recently restored because the original Eastman film stock was fading. The result is a film that's bright, vivid and frequently funny and hits all the right notes and some sad ones about how love does not conquer all. The film is a treasure to behold and an antidote to the sappy, robotic romantic comedies of the 90's. No treasure is greater though than the magical, youthful presence of Catherine Deneuve.