Cures for the Universal Monsters

 HOUSE OF DRACULA (1945)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Watching "House of Dracula" can be fun but it is not wicked, macabre fun. There are far too many abrupt changes and inconsistencies from the other Universal Horror films that preceded it, leaving us with leftovers that don't quite jell. There is enough to enjoy on some level but the movie pulls itself away far too quickly before ending rather abruptly.

Count Dracula (John Carradine) is seeking help from Dr. Edelman (Onslow Stevens), who is known for curing people of ailments. Vampirism and lycanthropy are not part of his forte since the reasonable doctor doesn't believe in such things yet the good Count wants a cure. There is also poor Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney, Jr., sporting a mustache) who turns into a werewolf when the moon is too bright ("There is something tragic about him"). Both characters died at the end of the last horror entry, "House of Frankenstein," though there is no explanation as to how they were resurrected (in those days, the filmmakers did not care about such things). Anyway, Larry is seeking a cure as well and he is still horrified at the prospect of transformation. Unfortunately, a blood transfusion involving the Count turns Dr. Edelman into a raving madman with black eyes (why the Count does this is beyond my understanding). For whatever reason, Dr. Edelman becomes half-vampire and half-raving lunatic to the point that he kills his regular coach driver without provocation.

There are two distinct nurses that work and live with Dr. Edelman and they include Miliza Morelle (Martha O'Driscoll), the blonde who is briefly under Dracula's spell while she plays Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" and a far more Satanic melody, and Nina (Jane Adams), the brunette with a hump! My question is: who cleans up this large castle-like manor with various rooms and entryways and a basement. I doubt it is the two nurses who spend time in a room-controlled lab working with spores that might help cure the Wolf Man. Meanwhile, after Larry Talbot's nearly-hilarious suicide attempt, the doctor rescues him and finds Frankenstein's Monster in a cave full of quicksand. If you recall the ending of "House of Frankenstein," sure, quicksand was an issue but it was in the middle of a swamp and how the heck did the Monster find itself in a cave near a tunnel coincidentally adjacent to Dr. Edelman's castle!

Convoluted and contrived, "House of Dracula" is a mess in terms of narrative consistency and logic. None of these characters are developed beyond two dimensions, though Onslow Stevens is positively creepy as the doctor. Martha O'Driscoll has a certain allure and I did feel genuinely bad for Nina and her unfortunate hump. It is that the doctor is facing far too many conflicts, between trying to cure Dracula, Wolf Man and facing his own vampiric tendencies, not to mention the contrived addition of Frankenstein's Monster who dies yet again in a blazing lab fire. Take out the Monster and the doctor's ridiculous need to bring it back to life, focus on Wolf Man and Dracula and enhance Morelle's attraction to Dracula and her sympathy to Larry Talbot and this might have been a winner. Not a bad time at the movies but there is too much story for such a short running time. 

I Can't Give You Anything but Love, Baby

 BRINGING UP BABY (1938)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

On my list of the Greatest Movies Ever Made

"Bringing Up Baby" is a rip-roaringly hilarious screwball comedy, one of the best ever made and by no less than the fast-paced talents of director Howard Hawks who already directed one of my favorite films, "His Girl Friday." Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn and a couple of leopards, a negligee, an archaeological bone-loving dog (!) are a hefty combination that may make one scoff at such a description yet, don't worry, this movie is too funny to care whether it all makes sense or not.

It is hard to imagine Cary Grant as an impotent, meek paleontologist named David Huxley yet here we are. An important dinosaur bone, an intercostal clavicle, is needed to complete a Brontosaurus skeleton. It is being delivered to Huxley's museum after years of arduous work in finding it yet a one million dollar donation for the museum by way of the wealthy Elizabeth Random (May Robson) is also imminent. There is also Alice Swallow (Virginia Walker), Huxley's fiancee who implies how she is keeping him impotent on their wedding day because his work is far more important. Huxley's life is already in a whirlwind and it becomes a cyclone of chaos when he inadvertently meets the sassy, carefree Susan Vance (Katharine Hepburn) whose aunt happens to be, wait for it, Elizabeth! From the near destruction of his car to helping Susan with a tame Brazilian leopard to finding themselves at his aunt's home and a series of comical random events, it is clearly evident that Susan is in love with Mr. Huxley from their initial meeting. She is also accident-prone as she consistently trips over objects and gets her glamorous dress ripped. Huxley is also a little accident-prone as he hits his head, trips over tree branches and just about everything else, falls into a pond (as does Susan) and gets his tuxedo ripped! Well, gee, who would you rather choose to spend your life with in the midst of such uncontrollable bedlam, humorless Ms. Swallow or spirited anything-goes Ms. Vance? (Don't answer that). 

The movie is pure physical chaos and not a single steady shot ever has any character frozen long enough before they are engaged in activity. After the dog buries that intercoastal clavicle somewhere in Elizabeth's acreage, David can't sit still at dinner and follows the dog when it leaves his resting place. Again and again. It is all consistent motion and, as a formidable screwball comedy with first-rate pungent dialogue by Dudley Nichols and Hagar Wilde (the latter who wrote the initial short story) and a formidable director like Howard Hawks, it works perfectly and is perfectly balanced in rhythm, tone and pacing. Most modern comedies of the last thirty years, even the great ones, move more leisurely depending on the plot. With "Bringing Up Baby," it is all a bunch of chaotic situations that fester and become frenzied in spirit with enough breathing spaces in between so we can catch up with our laughter. Even at a fast-pace, the humanity of its central characters is never lost. Grant and Hepburn are just that supernaturally good and hysterically funny - the best romantic couple you might see in a romantic comedy in the 1930's with the exception of Claudette Colbert and Clark Gable in "It Happened One Night." Shame Hepburn never did screwball again and Grant (borrowing Harold Lloyd's horn-rimmed glasses) never played such a soft, square character like this one again. "Bringing Up Baby" is a national treasure.

You might not look at shadows the same way again

 VAMPYR (1932)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Ethereal and yet haunting in imagery and atmosphere, "Vampyr" is one of the great films of the horror genre though the film itself is not exclusively horror. It is more of a meditation on horror, a meditation on the spectral and the unexplained and what may or may not be visible to our eyes. There is a vampire in the film yet she does not bare any fangs nor is she monstrous in appearance. Everyone in "Vampyr" seem to be a ghostly apparition in their look and appearance - they are only waiting for the inevitable.

Muted expressions carry "Vampyr" from its first scenes of Allan Gray (Nicolas de Gunzburg), a quiet, somewhat inexpressive visitor to a mysterious inn that is as spooky as any Universal or Hammer horror film. He is the uniquely impertinent hero, meaning he has no claim to anything, has no real visible emotions and is curiously remote - he only expresses shock at some older man in his room (the father of two girls, Léone and Giselle) placing a package on a nightstand. The package turns out to be a book on vampires. 

The dialogue is often terse and the actions of many of the characters inconclusive - in fact, there is no payoff for most scenes as we traditionally expect in vampire films. We only learn later who this ambiguous older woman with a cane is - the vampire of the story known as Marguerite Chopin (Henriette Gérard) - yet we assume everyone knows who she is. Is everyone under her spell? Nobody seems to fear her and we never see this "vampyr" attack anyone or bite any intended victim, only after the fact. Her purpose is inexplicable yet she somehow keeps this inn and its surroundings closed-off and there is a sense of claustrophobia. There is also some castle and a mill and the settings somehow seem interchangeable. At times, I had no idea where I was despite the mobile subjectivity of Allan parading around the general interiors and the openness of the field, depicted with hard grainy black-and-white images.

I do not expect to make any sense out of "Vampyr" - it is a uniquely more poetic exercise than Murnau's horrifying vampire masterpiece "Nosferatu," released a decade earlier. Whereas "Nosferatu" is clear and precise in its intentions, "Vampyr" is decidedly unclear and imprecise. At one point, Allan is dead yet his presumed soul leaves the body only for Allan to find his dead body in a coffin with a glass partition! To make matters even more eerie, we watch as the coffin is lifted and carried out and we see everything from his point-of-view in the coffin (these images are the most startling). It is hard to tell from the conclusion if our impertinent hero is actually dead or if he has been resurrected or if all this is a dream.  

"Vampyr" is ostensibly a dream exercise, an excuse for director Carl Theodor Dreyer to mix the supernatural with the misty surroundings in some sort of internal logic of a dream. There are some hypnotic, impossibly filmed shots that have haunted me for years - the shadows of children along a river bank, the shadows of people dancing and playing merry music as the camera prowls along a series of walls, the terrifying scene of Sybille Schmitz's Léone as her face becomes demonic while staring at her sister Giselle, the flour mill that suffocates the doctor (the vampire's accomplice), and the limping soldier whose shadows acts independently. "Vampyr" may be purposely vague in meaning yet it is a tremendously moody assault on our senses, albeit in a quiet, leisurely way that sneaks up on you and curdles your blood. You might not look at shadows the same way again. 

Kubrick's first foray into cinema is a bit of a bore

 FEAR AND DESIRE (1953)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Stanley Kubrick was one of our greatest cinematic visionaries, a man who had a pessimistic outlook on the world and humanity and found stories that accentuated that. Naturally, this is a simplistic statement and Kubrick was much more complex in his attempts to understand man's inhumanity to man. War movies became one of his specialties in this area of concentration, from "Paths of Glory" to "Full Metal Jacket." "Fear and Desire" was Kubrick's first film and, of course, his first war film but you will have a difficult time staying awake for this one.

There is a war brewing in the horizon as four soldiers embark on finding a way out of whatever island they are on. They try to forge a raft of sorts yet there are complications. Bombs are heard in the background and a woman (Virginia Leith) enters the picture as she leaves a lake, appearing at first like some sort of nymph (she seems unreal, like a figment of someone's imagination). The men hide from her but she finds them and they bind her to a tree! This episode had me a bit perplexed since I know they can't let her go because she spotted them, but binding her to a tree? One of the soldiers who is slowly becoming shell-shocked (Paul Mazursky, overacting to the hilt) tries to comfort the girl and lets her go after trying to have his way with her only to then shoot her! Of all the scenes in "Fear and Desire," this singularly shocking moment shows the unfortunate decisions a soldier makes behind enemy lines. 

Then there is the general, from the enemy side, staying in some cabin and perhaps waiting for the inevitable. The general and the captain (unmistakably looking like Nazis and played by Kenneth Harp and Stephen Coit) are played by the same actors who play the supposed American heroes. Why? Perhaps Kubrick is stating that both sides have men making their battle strategy decisions and are no different from each other. Interesting angle, almost something Luis Bunuel would have done as a visual stunt.

I hate to knock this film that even Kubrick hated (reportedly, he wanted all copies of the film destroyed) but it doesn't quite work. The narration is superfluous and obvious, some of which are the thoughts of the soldiers (Terrence Malick did the same thing in "The Thin Red Line"), the action is often inert and the actors are just not up to the task of a supposed anti-war film. There are some stunning black-and-white images but that is the best thing I can say about it. Kubrick was still learning up until he made his first great film, "The Killing," in 1957. He was just experimenting here, figuring himself out. For Kubrick fans and film fans, it is a must-see whether you are bored or not.    

Glasses in Advertising doesn't scream funny

 THE SIN OF HAROLD DIDDLEBOCK (1947)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When Harold Lloyd was asked to appear in a sequel to his fantastically rousing sports classic "The Freshman" by writer and director Preston Sturges, Lloyd must have been ecstatic. That ecstasy quickly dissipated when the two were reportedly at odds with the script and general direction of the film. Perhaps it was not a union made in heaven and watching "The Sin of Harold Diddlebock," you'd be right.

Lloyd is Harold Diddlebock (though in "The Freshman" his last name was Lamb) who helped his college football team win the big game. A big-time ad agency honcho, E.J. Waggleberry (Raymond Walburn), offers Harold a job in advertising after seeing him win the big game! Say what? That concept doesn't scream funny to me or make any sense with anyone who has ever seen "The Freshman." 20 years pass with no promotion and Harold is told to leave the company with a 2,000 dollar severance check and all he has to show for it is a paid off engagement ring and no women to share it with, well, except for a young ad artist, Frances Otis (Frances Ramsden, who never made another movie). This scene is quite sad and very moving but I just wonder, why an ad agency? And if he was in advertising, where is the can do spirit of Harold from the first movie? Why couldn't Harold have become a teacher at a college and involved with inadvertently becoming a football coach or something? Meanwhile, Harold has cash in his pocket and is almost taken for a ride by a con artist and we get one long, tedious extended scene in a bar that goes on and on - the punchline is that Harold drinks a stronger potent potable, named for him, and screams at a high pitch! Ha! 

The opening sequence (involving Harold winning the football game from "The Freshman") and the climactic sequence (Harold struggling on a building ledge with a lion) are the best and most noteworthy moments of this so-called comedy. The rest of "Sin of Harold Diddlebock" is frustratingly laugh-free and an endurance test even for Lloyd fans. As soon as you finish watching this interminable sequel, you'll want to go right back and see the glorious "The Freshman."  

Back to basics

 PROFESSOR BEWARE (1938)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The 1930's were a strange, underwhelming time for Harold Lloyd due to the fact that his films were not box-office hits. "Movie Crazy" and "Feet First" were hilarious but they never got the audience they deserved. "The Cat's-Paw" and "The Milky Way" were more remote in their comic premise though they still have quite a few laughs in each. "Professor Beware" was not well-received either yet, not unlike "Feet First," it was a welcome return to his silent comic roots. It is one long chase picture to be sure, like his early two-reelers, yet the chase is breezy and engaging even if the story never really takes shape. 

Lloyd is Professor Dean Lambert who has a certain obsession with Egyptian Neferus and the Pharaoh's daughter to the point that he sleeps in the sarcophagus! After getting into some trouble with a damsel in distress and an alcoholic (perfectly cast William Frawley) and the good old professor with no clothes on which causes him to be fired from the museum, we get a chase picture starting with a camper belonging to some recently married couple out to the desert, a couple of thieving partners including one purporting to be a judge, and cops on the professor's tail. To Harold Lloyd completists, some gags will seem familiar to those who have seen "Get Out and Get Under" with the car-inside-a-tent gag. There is also a chaotic finish with Lloyd consistently falling into the ocean water and fighting guys left and right to impress a woman and her father - always trying to make an impression. A repeat of Harold mimicking a chicken's clucking sound is not nearly as sidesplitting as his mimicking a horse's laugh in "The Milky Way."  

Despite this being a reprise of hapless Harold Lloyd at his best and recycling old gags, I still found this far more enjoyable than "Cat's-Paw" or "The Milky Way" (though nothing quite tops "Movie Crazy" for that decade alone). It's nothing new, nothing remotely inventive about it and not exactly a step forward for Mr. Lloyd (he does use rear-screen projection for some chases which is cheating a bit) but it is terrific fun seeing him going back to basics. 

Hang on for a roller coaster of laughs

 HAROLD LLOYD'S WORLD OF COMEDY (1962)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Satire! Thrills! Chases! When it comes to silent movie comedians and the thrill of dangerous stunts and chases that will make you wonder how they did it, nobody did it better or as hilariously as Harold Lloyd. "Harold Lloyd's World of Comedy" is an engaging attempt to wow us with his physicality and expert timing of gags left and right.

Harold Lloyd himself kept his films out of circulation and televised viewing for more than 30 years. In his Greenacres compound, he kept many of the original negatives of his one-reeler, two-reelers and feature-length pictures. Thanks to Lloyd he fashioned together a compilation of some of his best work in "World of Comedy." What we get is an hour and a half worth of footage and extended sequences from films such as "Why Worry?," "Hot Water," "Girl Shy" (one of Lloyd's sweetest love stories), "Feet First" and a couple of talkies like the hilarious "Movie Crazy." Why a more obscure talkie like "Professor Beware" is included without spoken dialogue during a freight train scene is beyond me other than to misrepresent it as a silent film. Why no more than a passing moment from "The Kid Brother" (one of his greatest films) is also questionable yet the choice clips and sequences are presented beautifully and are well-knit together. If I have one other gripe, I would've liked less obtrusive and superfluous narration by Arthur A. Ross.  

For lovers of Harold Lloyd and newbies to this most gratifying physical comedian with the famous horn-rimmed glasses, "World of Comedy" serves its purpose - to entertain and to make us laugh. A word of warning: watch out for Lloyd just barely climbing a building in "Feet First" - you might pass out if you are acrophobic. 

Glasses and Milk need more ingredients

 THE MILKY WAY (1936)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Not unlike "The Cat's-Paw," Harold Lloyd's follow-up called "The Milky Way" has exceedingly funny moments strewn along an uninspired script. The idea of Lloyd as a milkman who's mistaken for knocking out a prizefighter and then becomes a major boxer himself, fooled by his manager into thinking he's good, is ripe for laughs and inspired lunacy. It's got laughs here and there, but no real lunacy.

In the 1920's, Harold Lloyd and director Hal Roach (not to mention Sam Taylor) would have milked this (pardon the pun) for every laugh they could get. In the 1930's, mainly due to the advent of sound, this movie doesn't ever kick it up in high gear compared to the silent pictures. Lloyd's typically milquetoasty type of guy (pardon the pun), Burleigh Sullivan, is a milkman who brings milk via horse and carriage to all his customers. For some reason, his boss (George Barbier, hysterically funny in "Cat's Paw") doesn't care much for Burleigh and though we assume we know the reasons, the insight never materializes. Burleigh comes to the rescue of his sister (Helen Mack) who is bullied by two men, Speedy McFarland, the prizefighter (a forgettable William Gargan) and an uneducated fighter named Spider (a very memorable Lionel Stander). Harold supposedly knocked out Speedy and the papers report it the next day making Burleigh into an unlikely new champion. The media-obsessed boxing manager (Adolphe Menjou), who is always conjuring new newspaper headlines, takes on Burleigh with the hope the kid will fail. 

It sounds like a great concept but the delivery isn't quite there. Harold Lloyd is simply not given enough to do. "The Milky Way" gets its head wrapped around the boxing minutiae when we really want to see the process by which Burleigh becomes a media sensation and, thus, we want to see Harold Lloyd giving it his best comic shot of adrenaline. We get one fight, a montage of newspaper headlines flaunting the kid's success, and within five minutes of screen time he is adored! The movie becomes sloppily written when Burleigh's sister hates all these guys for exploiting her brother and then, whoosh like the narrative wind, she's accepted a wedding proposal by Speedy! Say what? And let's not get started with Dorothy Wilson as Burleigh's girlfriend - after Bebe Daniels, Mildred Davis and Jobyna Ralston, Wilson is a sweet presence but rather weakly handled and doesn't even get a final, blissful scene with Lloyd.

Despite narrative inconsistencies, "The Milky Way" is a likable enough comedy with many moments that made me smile (especially Verree Teasdale as Menjou's girlfriend who has terrific one-liners) and a few that had me laughing uproariously (Harold mimicking a horse's laugh, the ducking contest between him and a philanthropist played by Marjorie Gateson). Still, despite being likable with one of the most likable of all physical comedians of that time, the movie never quite takes flight. It holds back too often and we are left with a reminder of how much funnier Harold Lloyd's early pre-talkie pictures were.  

Uninspired but still fun departure for Harold Lloyd

 THE CAT'S-PAW (1934)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The role of a naive missionary from China travelling to the U.S. is perfectly tailored for Everyman Harold Lloyd. During the 1930's Lloyd was performing less physical stunts and gags where he was running around engaging in all sorts of tomfoolery, and more character parts. "The Cat's-Paw" is a strange movie experience because it feels as if Lloyd should be jumping out of his skin and yet he's been directed by regular Lloyd director Sam Taylor to be remote and closed-off. This is only a fitfully funny comedy and, like most Lloyd pictures, it is fun but it is not great fun. 

When Ezekiel Cobb (Lloyd) arrives in the U.S. in the fictional California city of Stockport, he is looking for a wife (though one must wonder, where are all the women in China?) Almost immediately he runs into the "so dishonest that you must be honest" Good Government League boss, Mayo (George Barbier), who wrongly assumes that a milquetoast like Cobb will lose the mayoral election quicker than any quote from Chinese poet Ling Po. Naturally, Cobb takes the job seriously and becomes mayor and all hell breaks loose. He fires the police commissioner, vetoes bills left and right and is keenly aware of all the graft and corruption which he tries to eradicate. As I said earlier this is the perfect role for Harold Lloyd yet he is far too unassuming and all hell doesn't break loose enough, not until the dramatic finish where all the crooks and gangsters are gathered inside the cellar of an Asian antique shop. For those who admonish the racial attitudes of filmmakers and/or films of the times, be prepared for racist quips and the regular use of a certain racial epithet towards Asians.

There aren't too many lulls in "The Cat's-Paw" but there is no real comic fire in this picture - it should explode with comic fireworks and it mostly keeps itself restrained. So is Lloyd who is still charming and funny in his calm demeanor and his frequent spouting of Asian quotes (not by Confucius, but by Ling Po). The scene where he tries to use the telephone for the first time is hilarious yet this movie never quite becomes a fish-out-of-water picture - there is not enough of that culture shock considering Cobb has been living in China for 20 years. Even the presence of Una Merkel as a cigar-counter clerk is seemingly truncated - she knows the guy is naive and dumb yet she holds out for his Capraesque idealism to rid the city of corruption. Lloyd and Merkel unfortunately have too few scenes together. "The Cat's-Paw" is still a minor delight and worth seeing for Lloyd fans but it is largely an uninspired effort. 

The Little Tramp's selfless act of love

 THE CIRCUS (1928)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There is a melancholic and hopeful spirit about the Little Tramp, the most famous character created during the silent film era by the great Charlie Chaplin. Here is a guy who is homeless and trying to get by and his needs are not great. He is a sentimentalist, not unlike the actual Chaplin, and believes in love and humanity which also makes both creator and character one of the great humanists of cinema. "The Circus" has such a deeply melancholic yet upbeat finish that I am almost ready to say it rivals his "Modern Times" or "City Lights" but I am not sure - it is certainly his finest and funniest achievement during the silent film era.

Right from the start of this rollicking comedy, the Little Tramp is already causing a ruckus. He inadvertently finds himself the butt of all jokes at a traveling show circus where he's chased by the police and a pony! The audience is doubled over with laughter especially in a priceless gag (an old one but it stands repeating if it is done well) where the cop and the Tramp are on a revolving platform yet neither can move very far. There's also the Tramp eating a hot dog belonging to a child, the hall of mirrors gag and the terrifically timed gag where Chaplin pretends to be an automaton (it is so good that I can see myself being fooled by this as well). This whole opening sequence occurs like a comic maze of epic funny gags because the Tramp is wrongfully accused of being a pickpocket, and all this is in the first 14 minutes!

The rest of "The Circus" has Chaplin as the new comic wonder of the circus, easily making the seasoned clowns look like amateurs. Of course, the Tramp is no seasoned comic or clown - it is all pure happenstance and the joke is that he cannot summon laughter by studying the clowns' routines like the William Tell bit involving an apple. The Tramp eats the apple and angers the circus owner (Allan Garcia) immensely since the little guy cannot do the routines and has no comic timing. Of course, love is around the corner when the Little Tramp falls for the owner's own stepdaughter, Merna (Merna Kennedy), an acrobat who sometimes fails to receive applause and has to be punished by not being fed by her mean stepfather. Merna likes the Tramp but then there's the handsome tightrope walker who steals her looks. 

"The Circus" is simply a wonderful, sprightly and delectably made romantic comedy with unbelievable stunts and scenes of impending terror that will have you grabbing your seat. The tightrope walking moment with Chaplin and a couple of intrusive monkeys on him will be enough to make you fall out of your chair laughing and terrified as well. A lion cage scene has to be seen to be believed, and all this is further proof that Chaplin has better comic timing than the Tramp himself. The last image of Chaplin doing his famous awkward walk to the sunset after giving up his love for Merna and for any further circus misadventures is about as sad and lonely a moment you will find in most silent cinema. I loved him for being that selfless and for Chaplin to have given us such a glowing comic creation and persona in so many films. Bravo!       

Names have been changed to protect the innocent

 HE WALKED BY NIGHT (1948)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Forget "The Naked City." "He Walked by Night" is an explosive, no frills thriller packed with enough action, solid performances and striking cinematography to render Jules Dassin's crime story as obsolete. Of course, history proved that "The Naked City" is better known and itself inspired a TV series. Well, this film not only stars Jack Webb in a small role as a forensics expert, it practically inspired the TV series "Dragnet," so there!

Richard Basehart is the lone gunman, Roy, who kills a policeman in the opening sequence while trying to rob a TV/radio store! For 1948, that is incredibly shocking violence! This killer gets away like a black cat in the night, robbing any kind of store and hiding out in the L.A. storm drains that covers many miles before returning to his bungalow with a barking dog. Roy shoots to kill but sometimes he uses the gun only as a threat in some robberies and his M.O. keeps changing. Roy works for a Mr. Reeves (Whit Bissell) as a technician and invents more elaborate electronics (of course, he had been pilfering all the electronic parts). This guy is also a step ahead of the police since he listens in on their frequency! How on earth are the cops going to catch up with him?

Truthfully, "He Walked by Night" is not a psychological profile of Roy nor is there any real depth to the cops (other than Scott Brady as Police Sgt. Marty Brennan who does a lot of the detective work in the latter half and Basehart's depiction of how antisocial Roy is). No, actually the film is a rip-roaring semi-documentary of a real-life case and it keeps you on edge through the workings of the multiple murders of cops and the forensic details. "He Walked by Night" is meant to be shallowly conceived and unglamorous, to evoke the tedious work cops must do to catch a criminal though not one frame of the film is tedious (the drawing of the suspect piece-by-piece by the witnesses is enthralling). The shootouts are crisp, brief and alarming especially the one in Mr. Reeves' office (courtesy of the sharp shadowy camera angles by DP John Alton) and of course the storm drain finale which is exceptionally done (allegedly it inspired Carol Reed's similar finale in "The Third Man" though I think that is yet to be proven). Exciting and first-rate all the way. 

Virginia Grey is a runaway

 SECRET VALLEY (1937)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

An unusual blend of western and gangster movie genres though about as perfunctory and silly as they come, "Secret Valley" is an obscure Western picture with its only real saving grace being Virginia Grey. 

Virginia is Joan who has married someone in Reno for only two hours (!) before realizing her husband is a gangster, meaning more of a ruthless businessman than a regular businessman. Joan consults two different attorneys to file a divorce. Geez, was she so ditsy as to not realize who her husband was? Apparently, the first attorney is aware of this man's reputation but says no to helping her. The second attorney is a go and sets her up in some dude ranch rather than a hotel. The dude ranch's owner, Lee Rogers (Richard Arlen), wants nothing to do with her. When Joan goes out for a cattle drive, he insists she wash dishes rather than ride a horse. Joan is so ditsy that she inadvertently opens the fence and lets all the cattle out roaming the desert. 

So we get shots of cattle being hoarded up (something B westerns have featured ad nauseam), lovely Virginia Grey acting foolish yet loving the outdoors, Lee Rogers losing his cool with Joan's presence, and a climactic shooting also involving fistfights with the gangsters, Lee, and the FBI while Joan yells "Watch out!" Added to the mix is an Asian cook (Willie Fung) occasionally barking in Chinese and cackling with laughter and you've got one ridiculous western that is fun in a very remote, childish kind of way.

Beer and Blood

 THE PUBLIC ENEMY (1931)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

For sheer villainy with very little charm and a purely (and intentionally) misogynistic bent, "The Public Enemy" is the James Cagney gangster picture of the 1930's era. There were many others but this one has steam rising and emanating from the screen - it is raw, visceral and accepts no substitutes. Though not exactly the best of its kind, it does show the Pre-Code danger and edge in these types of gangland pictures and it makes no apologies.

Divided into chapters showing an onscreen title of the year, "The Public Enemy" charts the rise and fall of Irish-American and Chicagoan Thomas Powers (James Cagney) who has no compunction as a youth to steal. He steals roller skates for his friend's sister and she refuses them when she finds out he stole them. Tom's father, a policeman, is a brute and heavily beats his son with very little reaction from the tot. Over the years, the kid and his childhood partner, Matt Doyle (Frankie Darro), become embroiled in petty theft crimes (one goes awry with regards to the theft of furs), work as streetcar drivers and eventually rise to the level of wealthy businessmen while bootlegging. Of course, murder by getting even percolates when Tom decides to kill Putty Nose (Murray Kinnell), the man who helped the kids in the past and decided to flee after that fur snafu. Sensible people started to see that Tom was up to no good.

Tom's mother (Beryl Mercer) loves him like a baby yet Tom's brother (Donald Cook), a World War I vet, sees through him and has heard and disapproves of his "beer and blood" enterprise. Even Tom's girlfriend Kitty (Mae Clarke) hates him and he decides to squish a grapefruit in her face in one of the most famous scenes in American cinema! In one scene, drunken Tom is seduced by a woman (Mia Marvin), who helps him and his crew hide out from a rival mob, and he smacks her the following day learning of this seduction he slept through. Leaving aside women (and a thankless though sparkling role by Jean Harlow), not even horses are safe around this guy.

"The Public Enemy" is rough and tough and a completely unsentimental picture though not especially illuminating (unless you were unaware of the notion, as served in prologue and epilogue title cards, that being a gangster was anything but a solid career choice). Still, I have to give the film credit for painting these criminals without an ounce of romanticism. There is none evident in a single performance, especially Cagney. As I said earlier, the film makes no apologies for its in-your-face violence and raw nerve. Neither did James Cagney.

Proletarian noir mixed with chipped glass

 THIEVES' HIGHWAY (1949)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Jules Dassin's "Thieves' Highway" is a curious noir picture because all the usual elements are forged and in place for a tough, tightly-paced picture and yet it gives us more than the expected. The noir trappings are there but we also get lost in the lonely world of truckers, golden apples, waterfronts, Italian prostitutes and in the minutiae of dangerous truck driving, the money at stake, who's robbing whom to make a buck and so on. In 2022, in a proposed world of driverless truckers, there is much here that almost makes it a docudrama of the rough terrain of truckers.

The fabulous Richard Conte is perfectly cast as Nick Garcos, a man who returns to his family in Fresno bearing gifts. Everything seems idyllic until he discovers his father (Morris Carnovsky), a former trucker, was bilked of wages during a bad accident where he lost his legs. The bilking was done courtesy of the corrupt Mike Figlia (Lee J. Cobb, a punchy and vibrant performance), who runs a produce market in San Francisco. Nick wants the money owed to his father so while partnering with the dubious truck jockey, Ed Prentiss (Millard Mitchell) who bought Nick's father's truck, a bargain is struck and the two hit the road with the shipment of apples to deliver to Figlia. None of this will be accomplished so easily.

It is clear from the plot that this could've been fairly standard, clockwork noir with the tension being whether Nick can get the money owed from Figlia or die trying. Being that this is a Jules Dassin flick and based on the A. I. Bezzerides' proletarian novel "Thieves' Market," the film is also far more invested in the relationships between the truckers, Figlia's manipulative ways that involve violence and the machinations of charging people whatever price floats in his head, and Nick trying to be righteous and realizing this world is amoral at best. But there is also the curious Italian prostitute Rica (Valentina Cortesa) who seems intent on manipulating any man to befit Figlia's corrupt ways but she may also be duplicitous. Curiously Dassin and writer Bezzerides keep us guessing as to her motives - is she money hungry or will she do right by Nick? Does she have to do right by him since men lunge themselves at her all the time. An early funny scene shows her at the cafe with a cigarette asking for a light and several men offer at the same time - an old joke that only shows she's capable of summoning and stealing a man's heart through his wallet, or their lighters. 

I don't buy the happy ending of "Thieves' Highway" nor does it feel warranted (a surprise coming from Dassin who later on created one of his darker noir endings in "Night and the City"). Still I was pulled in by the cast and especially Richard Conte's proletariat-led idealism - he is jovial in the beginning and slowly such joy dissipates till he has some sort of implied rebirth. The idealism is etched on his face, and you can feel it - he is somehow the perfect postwar worker type that you might ever see during this era. Valentina Cortesa is excellent in her low-key performance, never pushing for any extremes yet we are never too sure of her intentions (Nick refers to her as chipped glass, a great line). The low-keyedness is also evident with Millard Mitchell as Ed and we discover through him that, hey, we all have to make ends meet somehow on these treacherous roads. Speaking of treacherous, there are two thrilling truck scenes, one involving a deadly crash, that have to be seen to be believed - Dassin was quick on the trigger when it came to making these scenes realistic and snappy. Tension-filled in every frame and often sprinkled with a touch of empathy towards characters you least expect to get any, "Thieves' Highway" is, dare I say it, truly evocative proletarian noir. Try saying that three times.  

One of the most lushly romantic love stories ever made

 THE QUIET MAN (1952)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Lush, wonderfully colorful and vibrant in tone and rhythm, "The Quiet Man" is one of John Ford's best films. It is a purposely rocky, humorous romantic story set in Ireland that is about as unusual a romance as you might expect. It's not just a romance between two stalwart acting titans like John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara, it is the romantic vision of Ireland as a place where true blooming love can exist. Not that it is easy for love to bloom there.

John Wayne is an Irish-American ex-boxer named Sean Thornton, who returns to his birthplace of Ireland, specifically Inisfree, to buy back the cottage he was born in. Naturally there is a heated disagreement through his neighbor, an embittered Red Will  (Victor McLaglen), who doesn't want Thornton as a neighbor. Red Will also wants Sean to stay away from his Irish lass of a sister, the spinster Mary Kate (the truly wonderful, spirited Maureen O'Hara). Of course, you can't keep a fiery redhead and a headstrong Irishman apart for long (this culminates in Wayne and O'Hara's famous first kiss while the wind blows in the background and through the cottage. It is a scene that can stop time, not to mention a strong moment of intimacy in a rainstorm by a graveyard). 

There are Irish traditions of courting that are at odds with Thornton's American traditions. For one, there is to be no physical contact during the courting, which is accompanied by the horse carriage driver and matchmaker Flynn (Barry Fitzgerald). Sean must not put his arms on Mary Kate if he is to lift her off of the carriage, a simple clasping of hands will do. The other tradition is that the brother must give away his sister (their parents are no longer around), and Red Will refuses simply because he himself is not married and needs a woman to run the house. There is a set-up during a horse race that is better seen than explained (it involves bonnets) and it shows how difficult it is to marry a woman - the process seems a bit grueling.

The cast works to perfection. Wayne and O'Hara make one of the best silver screen couples ever and it shows how much love there is despite the rocky roads (quite literally). Wayne shows a more gentle tough guy at first - later on, this guy is rather rough when dragging Mary Kate over 5 miles of rough terrain for a climactic fight with Red Will. O'Hara also shows gentleness yet a fierce demeanor at the same time - she will not bow down to just any man (she can deliver a punch and is forthright about her emotions). I can see why O'Hara thought of this movie as her favorite - after all, it probably helped that she was born in Ireland as well.

It was a great casting coup to get the boisterous Victor McLaglen as the stubborn Red Will, who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and through his bulky physicality. Also worth mentioning is Ward Bond as a priest, Father Peter Lonergan, who hates to be interrupted when catching a fish. And let's not forget Barry Fitzgerald as the chaperone and matchmaker Michaleen Flynn - he also imbues the spirit and sweetness of himself and the townsfolk yet he clings with an iron hand on upholding tradition.

"The Quiet Man" may have its Irish stereotypes (the guys at the bar singing and drinking to their heart's content, the betting over a fistfight) but they add immeasurably to the proceedings - you believe them as a fun-loving group who only want to be content. Same with Sean and Mary Kate and though the romance takes its time beyond their marriage and a little matter involving her dowry, the same richness and optimism of their very souls gives us something to aspire to. The Irish setting (astounding Technicolor cinematography by Winton C. Hoch who later lensed "The Searchers") with its rock beds, rocky bridges, the slightly grayish sea, the rolling green hills, and the cottage with its green doors makes this one of the most beautiful and lushly romantic love stories ever made. "The Quiet Man" is one of the greatest, most pleasurable entertainments ever produced by a Hollywood studio.

Shamefully and Shamelessly funny

 SCARED TO DEATH (1947)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

What a shame that "Scared to Death" was not directed by Ed Wood because it might have been a bigger hit with the cult movie circuit and probably would've made more sense. Or not. "Scared to Death" might end up as the transcendental trashy Z movie that is so bad it is phenomenally good, kind of like Tommy Wiseau's "The Room." In both cases, they are actually not about anything yet they hold a certain attraction because, at least, they tried. Or maybe not.

This is the first movie to be narrated by a corpse (I thought the great and tantalizing "Sunset Blvd." was the first, but oh well). This may also be the only movie in history where the corpse is not only narrating beyond the grave but also from a slab at the mausoleum (every few minutes, the movie cuts back to her on the slab which is more than likely the same shot repeated ad nauseam). The story goes that a frustrated woman (Molly Lamont) died because she became literally scared to death of a floating green mask that reminded her of her magician husband (her second husband is someone she's seeking a divorce from). The question is who was wearing the green mask and who scared her? Is it an apparition? Was it Bela Lugosi as Professor Leonide, himself a magician, or his dwarf assistant named Indigo (Angelo Rossitto)? Was it the stoic doctor named Dr. Ee who was treating her (George Zucco)? Was it the inquisitive reporter or his girlfriend? Was it the comical cop at the asylum (Nat Pendleton, such a comically entertaining performance that is at odds with the rest of the movie) who is hoping for a homicide so he can solve it and get back on the police force? Will anyone care? Should I give away what happens? I suppose we can say that the green mask (and a green scarf) have something to do with this woman selling her first husband out to the Nazis! It is not clear if he has come back as a phantasm or does the woman only imagine him as a ghost, or who knows what. The disembodied voice travels through the walls and can be heard by others so I dunno.

"Scared to Death" is based on a one-act play called "Murder on the Operating Table," which was apparently based on a 1933 murder case involving Dr. Alice Wynekoop (this particular true-life case is far more fascinating than the farcical mischief of this movie). This movie's main distinction is that it is one of two or three films to have ever had Bela Lugosi appearing in color. The colors are from a Cinecolor process, which looks like the tinting process used by Ted Turner back in the 1980's to colorize B&W films. Shamefully bad movie, no matter how it looks, and shamefully and shamelessly funny in an idiotic good/bad movie way. 

Marginally exciting John Wayne/Johnny Mack Brown western

 HELL TOWN (1937)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I am a sucker for older black-and-white westerns from the 1930's and 40's. Anything to do with the frontier, the local town with a general store, cattle rustling and so on, I watch avidly. Not of all these one-hour long westerns of this period (before John Ford and Howard Hawks improved on them hundredfold) are terrific entertainments, and some are rather wobbly paced. "Hell Town," also known as "Born to the West," is not terrific but it is marginally exciting for what it delivers. Its got John Wayne wearing a 10-gallon hat and it has the sweet sugar on top with the added presence of the charismatic John Mack Brown (the only film they appeared in together).

Wayne is Dare Rudd, a penniless cowhand who travels with his partner, Dinky Hooley (Syd Saylor), an anxious lightning rod salesman who tries to sell lightning rods to anyone. The twosome ride into Montana with Dare hoping to make his way to Wyoming. After a gunfight during a cattle stampede in Montana, they come across Dare's own cousin, Tom Fillmore (Johnny Mack Brown), a cattleman and banker who Dare jokingly says, "he's half of Wyoming." Love comes calling when Dare is smitten by Judy (Marsha Hunt) who is Tom's girl. Well, gee, who would Judy prefer? 

"Hell Town" is not really a love story and in its 55-minute running time, we need room for poker games where the decks are switched by the bartender; a cattle stampede, which is practically par the course for any western landscape (directly lifted in the opening sequence from random stock footage); several gunfights; rattlesnakes; a double-dealing poker player who is "the best poker player west of the Mississippi," and the usual camaraderie between cowhands about who to trust. Since Dare is about to earn 10,000 dollars for delivering cattle, you know someone is looking to make a buck for themselves. 

John Wayne's role as a troublemaking gambler who needs protection, especially in poker games, is contrary to the type of tough cowboy he would famously play later on. Johnny Mack Brown has a certain kind of cool charisma that proved its worth in several low-budget westerns he appeared in. Syd Saylor is frontier comic relief and welcomed in this rudimentary western. "Hell Town" (its new title upon its first reissue) is an engaging enough western as a reminder of the genre's roots in simplicity before evolving into the grander, sometimes darker vision of John Ford and others that followed.

FOOTNOTE: Both John Wayne and Johnny Mack Brown played football in their early years.

Are we not men?

 ISLAND OF LOST SOULS (1932)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When you watch the creepy, far too effectively haunting "Island of Lost Souls," you are watching a film that could've been made by a madman. By all accounts, director Erle C. Kenton ("House of Frankenstein") was no madman but he did make a maddening masterpiece of horror that went beyond anything else in theaters at the time. All masterpieces tend to have minor flaws (no film is really ever perfect though they may be perfectly realized) yet "Island of Lost Souls" is practically flawless in its unsavory atmosphere, restrained performances and execution of disturbing subject matter. It is a horror film yet I must say that in retrospect with all the released horror pictures of the 1930's including "Frankenstein" and "Dracula," it is quite horrific.

From the start, something is afoot. A shipwrecked, unshaven survivor, Edward Parker (Richard Arlen) awakens as if he has seen something horrific. The following day, he's ready to embark on a voyage to meet his fiancee yet the captain doesn't want him on board and throws him out. Parker didn't like the way the captain treated M'ling (Tetsu Komai), a servant to a certain Dr. Moreau, yet notices a distinctive feature in M'Ling, a furry ear! So Parker ends up on Dr. Moreau's boat and they are off to Moreau's island. Big mistake because it turns out that the white-suited Dr. Moreau (Charles Laughton, a devilishly undercooked performance) is a scientist who has an island full of half-men, half-animal hybrid creatures. They all speak and they know the Law (the laws include repeated phrases like "Are we not men?" and "Do not eat meat" and "Do not spill blood"), obeying their master as if he was some deity. There is much here that may remind some of the famous Joseph Conrad novel, "Heart of Darkness," which of course was later adapted into "Apocalypse Now."

There is also a timid woman on this island, Lota (Kathleen Burke), a former panther creature who is practically wholly human female. Moreau wants to do further experiments (changing animals through vivisection into humans) and hopes that Parker will impregnate Lota! And if that doesn't work, well, there is Parker's fiancee, Ruth (Leila Hyams), who locates Parker in this island and is more than dismayed by these hybrids. If Parker won't impregnate Lota, then perhaps one of the bulkier half-ape creatures will do their due diligence with Ruth!

As you can imagine, this movie's story (based on H.G. Wells late 1890's novel) was too much for 1930's audiences and certain scenes and lines of dialogue were censored for American audiences. "Island of Lost Souls" was also banned in nine different countries, including Great Britain. Though most of it might seem diluted compared to many other horror films of the last 80 years, few have the verve and outright manic tension of "Island of Lost Souls." Every scene, every nightmarish shot is maximized by a foggy atmosphere (par the course in those days) and an undercurrent of complete discomfort. The introduction of Lota by Dr. Moreau is underscored by tension, that somehow her very presence smacks of something unclean and perverse (which of course it is). Those are the quiet scenes, and then we have the House of Pain which is the lab where the nasty experiments occur. Noises, screams of agony are heard everywhere in the soundtrack, not just in the House of Pain. 

Everything is heightened in this movie except for the performances. Charles Laughton, one of the finest actors of the 20th century, exudes a great deal of reserve in his Dr. Moreau and no wonder - had the character been too colorful or too over-the-top, it would dilute the horror. Same with Richard Arlen, the straight man who is repulsed by what is happening on this island. Kathleen Burke is a stunningly agile actress, and her very movements sometimes seem panther-like (Burke actually retired from acting at the age of 25!) Only Leila Hyams as Ruth is generally wasted - I suppose the role of a blonde fiancee was needed amidst all the creatures since her role was invented and is not to be found in H.G. Wells' original novel. Let's not forget Bela Lugosi as one of the hybrids, the actual Sayer of the Law who famously repeats the phrase, "Are we not men?" He's got one horrifying close-up that has become part of the iconography of this film.

A few thoughts occurred to me while watching "Island of Lost Souls." If these animals become men, are they still animals? If they are men, do they have souls? The one true animal in "Island of Lost Souls" is Dr. Moreau, a sadist with no soul. Frightening thought, frightening and vital piece of horror cinema.

Sherlock Holmes is largely absent

 THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES (1939)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

It is unusual to see Basil Rathbone's Sherlock Holmes in an abbreviated role as the famous grand sleuth - naturally his presence is barely felt throughout "The Hound of the Baskervilles." This is the first film to feature the iconically cast Rathbone as the violin-playing, cigar-smoking and occasionally needle-needing Scotland Yard detective whose powers of intuition surprise everyone except himself. If only there was more of him.

The opening scenes at the moors of the Baskerville estate in Devonshire suggest Universal horror imaginings, evoking something supernatural. An older man, Sir Charles Baskerville, runs through the foggy moors from a fierce and hungry dog or a wolf, falls over and dies. There is the legend of the Baskerville curse and the story goes that several centuries earlier, Sir Hugo Baskerville was killed by this devil dog, this alleged hound from Hell. Every since then, all generations of Baskervilles have been killed by the same dog including Sir Charles. What does this all mean? And will Sir Henry Baskerville (Richard Greene), the last of the Baskervilles, be the next intended victim or is there a grander scheme involving a huge family fortune?

Now how on earth is the witty Sherlock Holmes going to deduce anything worthwhile out of this except to prove that the hound theory is hogwash? Back at Baker Street, Dr. Mortimer (Lionel Atwill) who was good friends with Sir Charles, is trying to determine that Sir Charles died from heart failure following the prospect of an attack from the hound. So Dr. Watson (Nigel Bruce), Holmes' assistant, is sent by Holmes to investigate the matter at Devonshire, although why send Watson packed with a gun for protection? Probably because the character's slight incompetence in determining a murder case's probable outcomes was not marked as a hindrance in this entry - Watson's weak analysis of details only progressed in subsequent Holmes films. Leaving dear Sherlock out of this story (as was the case with the book) is problematic and doesn't serve the narrative or build any real momentum either. The real truth is that author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had no intention to make this a Sherlock Holmes story, and I am sure that also meant leaving out Dr. Watson altogether.

This is the case where the book is far more fun to read than seeing the film adaptation. "Hound of the Baskervilles" is still one of the weaker Holmes stories and one of the weakest Basil Rathbone entries (just as weak is "Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror" which had Rathbone's Holmes sans his deerstalker cap in a WWII scenario involving Nazis) yet it is still sort of fun to watch once Holmes is involved in the case towards the last twenty minutes (he disguises himself as an old coot selling various trinkets). For Holmes completists, check it out and for others, prepare to be bored by the first half of the movie. 

Too lukewarm for Glasses

 HOT WATER (1924)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Although not as breezy or as tightly woven as some of Harold Lloyd's other features, "Hot Water" is still fun but not great fun, not the type of raucous, chaotic fun that mirrors Lloyd's Glasses character at his best.

Lloyd is Hubby, also known as Harold, who runs like the wind at the beginning with his friend to get to the wedding. A meet-cute opportunity arrives as Harold knocks over a young woman with beguiling eyes, later to be known in the credits as Wifey (Jobyna Ralston). They are somehow meant to be together. Flash forward to the usual clumsy antics of Harold as he tries to carry groceries and wins a turkey in a raffle to boot. There is no car so he must ride in a trolley where a spider finds itself crawling up his leg! You know, the usual tomfoolery.

The rest of "Hot Water" has to do with Harold's resistance to his strict mother-in-law (Josephine Crowell) who gives speeches on the dangers of imbibing alcohol and is in town visiting, along with Wifey's cigar-smoking, dumb brother Charley (Charles Stevenson) and her little troublemaking brother, Bobby (Mickey McBan). They all ride in Harold's newest acquisition, a Butterfly Six automobile which will take about 50 plus payments to pay off! Naturally things go haywire on the road with an insane traffic jam and a motorcycle cop, resulting in much damage to the car after one too many accidents and some near-misses. Then we get to Harold imbibing a whole flask of alcohol and burping his way to a formal dinner with Wifey's mother where he awkwardly handles hot dinner plates. 

"Hot Water" should've been tightened up in terms of comic timing and it is quite uneven between the three episodes that break up the film. The trolley car is somewhat chaotic and often funnier in spirit than in form (the turkey should've reappeared towards the end). The Butterfly Six ride doesn't seem to have quite enough chaos either - more oomph in its comic engine was needed to make it a real blast. The last episode with Harold thinking he's in trouble with the law because he wrongly assumed he's killed his mother-in-law with an excess of chloroform is ecstatically funny and has a lot of punch. The mother-in-law sleepwalks and Harold runs around the house enduring one obstacle after another (my favorite bit is when he thinks he's been handcuffed!) We like to see Harold enduring pratfalls and still maintain his standing as a romantic leading man in ways his contemporaries like Chaplin and Keaton couldn't quite muster. "Hot Water" is a good flick but some of it is still lukewarm. 

B is for Boring B-Movie

 EAST OF BORNEO (1931)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

This is one of those 1930's jungle adventure thrillers that serves up a title of a geographical location that is visually identical to any location in any other pre-Code adventure film. Borneo is the largest island in Asia yet any unique features to that island are not present in this film. "East of Borneo" is yet another B-movie flick that was clearly shot in the studio backlot (it was cheaper to do so in those days) and its only real authentic look is the inside of a prince's luscious-looking golden palace and obvious stock wild animal footage.

The mechanical plot is just a set-up - Rose Hobart is Linda Randolph, the "white woman" as prefaced by the Borneo natives who announce her arrival with a series of gongs and drums. She has travelled 6,000 miles to find her husband, Dr. Clark (Charles Bickford), a drunk physician to the island's charmingly devious Prince Hashim (Georges Renavent). There is much squabbling between Linda and Dr. Clark, and the Prince clearly wants the woman for himself (it must get lonely there despite the presence of Lupita Tovar as a servant and various other female servants). We do get lots of close-ups of tigers, monkeys and hundreds of crocodiles - in one particularly intense scene, a bunch of those hungry crocs devour a native and tear him apart. 

Still, there is not much to "East of Borneo" and the only real thrills occur during a volcanic eruption after the Prince is...well, if you feel the need, watch the movie for the early foreshadowing bit of dialogue by the Prince himself. Charles Pickford is a dullard at best and Rose Hobart merely stands around as window dressing (she fared better in "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" with Fredric March). Georges Revenant is the only one who relishes his Prince role and gives it the spark it needs. The jungle footage, inadvertently thrilling, is indistinguishable from what you might find in a Tarzan flick or several other jungle adventure films. 

One fascinating aspect to "East of Borneo" is that an experimental filmmaker, Joseph Cornell, took clips from the film spliced with footage of an eclipse and did a 20-minute short called "Rose Hobart." Though not one of my favorite so-called "Surrealist" films, it is far more galvanizing than anything in this run-of-the-mill flick. 

Eccentric, impatient and in love

 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE (1931)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

The famous Robert Louis Stevenson Gothic story has had many incarnations and though I profess to not have seen them all, this 1931 Fredric March version from Warner Brothers is easily the best. It is a frightening film, nightmarish in its look and atmosphere and in particular Fredric March's truly exceptional, layered Oscar-winning performance. It stands in the tradition of the Universal Monster flicks as a haunting, ghoulish classic.

The gentle Dr. Jekyll (Fredric March) helps patients with various disabilities or ailments yet he also can perform, um, well miracles to some degree (he gets a girl to give up her crutches and she starts walking - is he really a miracle worker or was this girl's disability only in her mind?) As a scientist in Victorian London, he is dedicated to proving certain thesis from the standpoint of presenting new ideas in the medical field. His latest thesis is that man has a dual nature, and the other side is the beast, the dark side that can be roused and separated from the good. Eventually Jekyll drinks a potent potion he concocted that allows him to unearth a beastly, simian-like appearance with canine teeth and an appetite for lust, women and drinks - "I am free!" he exclaims. He carries on with a top hat and cape walking the streets of London as passerby look on with disbelief, and he speaks and grunts and has no manners whatsoever at a bar and restaurant while insisting a blonde bar singer named Ivy (played by Miriam Hopkins, who has many ungentlemanly callers) sit at his table for a drink. Hyde is a carnivorous, sexual animal who performs demeaning acts unseen by the audience (even in pre-Code days, you could only suggest so much deviancy).

As Dr. Jekyll, he is kind, plays the piano proficiently, and is something of a true romantic to his fiancee Muriel (Rose Hobart). He is also in a rush to get married despite the objections of his fiancee's father. Meanwhile Jekyll's obsession over the potion gets to be overbearing and yet he can't help himself but drink from it and loosen those Victorian mores. Danger lurks when he starts changing into Hyde without drinking the potion. Uh oh. Naturally this results in disaster and an intense, chaotic ending that goes way beyond anything you would find in a Universal Horror flick of the 1930's - this Hyde means business.

Director Rouben Mamoulian ("Queen Christina," "Becky Sharp") uses the camera very subjectively and it leaves you almost breathless from the start of the first sequence, shot as if from Dr. Jekyll's point-of-view and it is meant to be distracting (Note the use of "invisible" mirrors as the camera seems to face Jekyll head-on while he dresses in front of the mirror). Also noteworthy are shots, unusual for a horror flick or any flick at that time, where characters seems to be speaking directly to us (a visual motif later used by director Jonathan Demme). Sometimes Dr. Jekyll seems to break the fourth wall when things don't go his way, as if he looks at us wondering if we are thinking the same thing. This technique helps to build sympathy for Dr. Jekyll's plight and we hope he can survive his transformative ordeal, though we know he can't.

Ultimately Fredric March is amazing to watch in his performance as he shows gradations of both the good and evil nature of his psyche, giving us a character of color and depth as Dr. Jekyll and showing us a rampaging monster as Hyde - the latter of whom knows he has gone too far in his exploits especially in the abusive relationship with the mortified Ivy (Miriam Hopkins, truly stunning performance). This Jekyll and Hyde flick holds your attention and keeps you on the edge of your seat, unsure of what unspeakable horror is around the corner when Jekyll is trying to restrain his transformation. It is not just hopped up, frenetic entertainment designed to titillate - at times, "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" is genuinely terrifying. 

Didactic Prison Melodrama

 THEY ALL COME OUT (1939)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

For almost the first third of the highly uneven "They All Come Out," the movie glides along at a zippy pace. We have the Blonde Girl Moll who is involved with the Gang. There is also the Driver, a drifter of sorts who doesn't have a penny to his name but he is quite adept at driving a car at very high speeds. Nothing here will seem less than reminiscent of any other road movie about crooks and director Jacques Tourneur ("Cat People") gives it a level of urgency. Still we have to also deal with the fact that this movie is federal prison propaganda, to let us know that the prisons are doing everything they humanly can to provide prisoners with a trade they can use in the real world. I don't doubt the federal prisons in the 1930's did their best to make that transition for crooks, robbers, etc. In this movie, though, it comes across as misleading and hurts the narrative.

Tom Neal ("Detour") is Joe, the Driver, and he can quickly careen from one road to the next without breaking a sweat. He just needs money and the Blonde Girl named Kitty (Rita Johnson) helps him out with a few bucks for a meal and a hotel room (he fixed her car after all). When Kitty reports to the leader of a gang named Reno (Bernard Nedell - truly devilish and slickly played), she suggests using Joe as their getaway driver for the bank robbery they are about to commit. Things don't work out too well when the whole gang is eventually caught and go to federal prison (there is also some hard cash totaling 30,000 dollars buried in a remote location). Reno is eventually transferred to Alcatraz and has no interest in any trade. Joe is sent to Chillicothe, Ohio reformatory and succeeds at being a welder - hey, the guy wanted to work for a living. Kitty is at a women's prison and learns how to give beauty treatment lessons. The other members of the gang also learn some trades and one quickly (and unbelievably) get proper mental health. Remember this was the Production Code era so criminals couldn't get away with any crimes, especially murder.

All this is maintained with precision by director Tourneur, ostensibly to give the Federal Prison system a good name (this was originally a documentary commissioned by MGM as part of the "Crime Doesn't Pay" series). Robbing, killing or any crime committed can be redeemed by learning a trade thus ensuring parole, a job and resulting in becoming a good citizen. None of this is remotely as interesting as the thrill-happy mechanics of the first third of the movie. The criminals all have tantalizing personalities and then they become boring tools of propaganda. This is a propaganda film, a didactic lesson and hardly an entertaining one.