Wimpish GLASSES

GRANDMA'S BOY (1922)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 

"Grandma's Boy" is not a riotous Harold Lloyd comedy with death-defying stunts, but it is a quieter, sublime film that thrives on sweetness and sympathy to make it work. And there are some hysterically funny scenes as well.

Lloyd is the weak, wimpish Sonny, who would rather let someone humiliate him than fight back. This is evident from an early scene where a bullish, headstrong man known as the Bully (Charles Stevenson) throws Sonny into a well! Sonny pines for the lovely Mildred (Mildred Davis) but the burly, arrogant Bully wants her too, and even takes credit for making ice cream with Mildred when it was Sonny who did all the hard work. Those were the days.

Sonny lives with his steadfast, feisty grandmother (Anna Stevenson), who devotes herself to making Sonny happy (and will chase away unwanted guests in her lawn with a broom!) Grandma gives Sonny a suit for a special occasion at Mildred's house, when it turns out the same suit is worn by the house servant! Then there are the mothballs that are confused with candy, the goose grease on Sonny's shoes that attracts the attention of several house cats, a Civil War flashback told as a tall tale with Lloyd as Sonny's grandfather that will leave you in stitches, and an extended fight scene inside a barn that is so expertly and flawlessly conceived, you wonder why today's action films can't contain as much zing in their own fight scenes.

"Grandma's Boy" was originally conceived as a drama with chuckles and sight gags interspersed throughout (reportedly after initially poor test screenings). It is Lloyd's first feature-length film and it is a sweet, delectable surprise -a film that benefits from developing its main character from a wimp with a childlike innocence to a man who can stand up for himself. Of course, this is nothing new in the annals of literature or cinema, but Lloyd and company succeed in making it seem all new again (especially when Sonny's grandmother is the one to witness Sonny's gradual transformation and triumphs, not Mildred. I am not giving anything anyway by saying that he still wins Mildred's heart). Aside from Chaplin, Lloyd may well be considered one of the great humanists of silent comedy for his unreserved compassion and commitment to playing lovable, klutzy "Glasses" nerds who were men as well. This film proves it.

Rebel With a Jelly Cause

THE BLOB (1958)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I never found anything scary about a gooey mass of Jello crash landing on Earth and devouring everything in its path. Still, this is something of a cult film in the 50's sci-fi B movie genre and you could do worse, but you could also do better.

Steve McQueen, in his acting debut, is a young teenager named Steve who is on an innocent date with his girlfriend, Jane (Anita Courseaut). They observe a meteor crashing in the distance and they go investigate. An old-timer's hand is sucked by this blob from the meteor and almost runs into the teens' car. Before long a doctor and his assistant are involved, a cute little pooch, the disbelieving policemen who do not believe Steve's story, and a movie theater and diner (50's consumerist icons) are being corrupted by the pink slime that is slowly growing. The police think it is all a prank except for Lt. Dave (Earl Rowe), who doesn't think Steve has a lying bone in his body.

For 50's fans of the Rebel Without a Cause variety, there is a bizarre scene of a chicken race except it involves the cars driving in reverse. Steve McQueen gives the best performance in the film, which may not be saying a whole lot considering the indifferent, undistinguished cast. I suppose the picture is mild fun for a while, though it stalls frequently and takes an eternity to get to its slimy climax. "The Blob" is a 50's replica of a B-movie though it is considerably bland and played far too straight. I wanted to laugh when McQueen calls for the police's attention by honking on car horns and issuing an air raid siren! How did he manage to get an air raid siren to go off? 

Believe it or not, that is the question

CURSE OF THE DEMON aka NIGHT OF THE DEMON (1957)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Curse of the Demon" could pass itself off as a 50's B monster movie but it has A talent and an A+ director so attention must be paid. Despite a rather silly-looking monster, "Curse of the Demon" is a sophisticated, creepy flick that will make you feel uneasy.

Dana Andrews is Dr. Holden, an American psychologist and author who is skeptical of demonology and demonic monsters on the loose. He travels to London to attend a demonology seminar when he gets wind that his friend, Professor Harrington, was killed in a strange accident involving power lines. Harrington's niece, Joanna (Peggy Cummins), a kindergarten teacher, feels differently  - she feels it was a demon. Adding to his skepticism is a weird seance where a lively song is sung; a certain goateed Karswell (lucidly played by Niall MacGinnis), a demonology expert and worshipper who can summon evil spirits and bad thunderstorms and entertain kids in clown makeup; parchments containing runic symbols, and Stonehenge itself.

"Curse of the Demon" is smoothly and masterfully directed by Jacques Tourneur, who helmed one of my favorite films, 1942's "Cat People." Here, the accent is also on shadows, specifically two eerie nighttime sequences involving a forest and Karswell's ginormous home. And there are some clever touches, including Holden's point-of-view after his meeting with Karswell where the screen seems to vibrate in a trance-like manner. There are several shots of corridors where a menace may or may not linger. I also love a scene where there is an examination of one patient who is hypnotized - you'll wonder what will happen next and when Holden will realize that demons might exist. Plus the music score with its screeching sounds of incoming trains, wild animals and thunder are sure to make your palms sweat.

"Curse of the Demon" (originally titled "Night of the Demon" and recut for U.S. audiences) does have the aforementioned silly-looking monster who appears right at the beginning of the film and in a later scene. I can forgive its inclusion because the ending of the film retains a certain ambiguity through the lead character. Even if you witness supernatural evil, that doesn't mean you believe it.

Karloff the Uncanny Monster

FRANKENSTEIN (1931)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 Although Boris Karloff's makeup and performance have entered the pop culture realm, this "Frankenstein" version from 1931 is not the best or the most faithful of Mary Shelley's novel. Still, compared to most other film versions (there have been over 100), it is one of the most effective and, perhaps, one of the most atmospheric.

James Whale's "Frankenstein" stars the harsh presence of Colin Clive as the mad Dr. Frankenstein, slaving away at creating life from a corpse inside a remote watchtower. He gets assistance from Fritz (Dwight Frye), a hunchback who inadvertently steals a criminal brain from the local medical school. Once the creation, now with a criminal brain, is brought to life with the use of electrical devices and a brewing storm, it begins to wreck havoc, escaping his prison and tormenting the local villagers. Eventually, Frankenstein leaves the castle for more modest surroundings, and is ready to marry his adoring Elizabeth (Mae Clarke) until terror strikes again in the face of the wandering Monster.

There are far too many inconsistencies in the film to warrant the heaps of praise it has received since it was initially released. Number one: how does the Monster know about Frankenstein's bride-to-be and why does he attack her? Number two: how is it that a villager knows his drowned daughter was murdered by the Monster? Could she not have just drowned? Number three: where does the film take place? Germany? Scotland? And what is with all the German and Slavic names when everyone speaks with an English accent?

Such inconsistencies aside, "Frankenstein" certainly has a lot to recommend it. Karloff is menacing, tender, sympathetic, cruel, and pathetic as the Monster - his first appearance where he walks slowly facing Frankenstein and stares inertly still sends chills to my spine. I admire Colin Clive's hard-edged performance as the scientist - he shows the doctor's mental breakdown and exhaustion perfectly. Mae Clarke does not have a lot of screen time but she is sweetly innocent - her scenes with John Boles as Victor, Henry and Elizabeth's mutual friend, suggests that Victor has mutual affection for her. Edward Van Sloan (who appeared the same year as Professor Van Helsing in "Dracula") is the most watchable presence on screen as an old professor who has a keen interest in this creation, though he is nonplussed by it at the beginning. He also presents the film in a prologue, which had not been in all existing prints, where he warns the audience that it may shock them, perhaps terrify them.

"Frankenstein" had some major trims in its original release thanks to the Production Code. One was the deletion of Maria's drowning, as she is thrown in the lake by the Monster who expects her to float like the daisies. Originally, it had just shown the Monster smiling and reaching out its hands to the girl. This minor trim makes the preceding scene of her father carrying her lifeless body far more violent than intended.

The other deletion was a line of dialogue said by Dr. Frankenstein after the first signs of life in the Monster. The deleted line - "In the name of God, now I know what it feels like to be God" - was certainly essential and in keeping with Mary Shelley's theme of man's attempt to emulate God.

"Frankenstein" is not a perfect film and not nearly as unifying as a whole as the superior "Bride of Frankenstein," the latter in my estimation is the best damn version ever. If nothing else, Karloff still makes one shudder and that is enough to consider the film a horror classic - he makes the film his own.

Lugosi sinks his teeth into the most famous bloodsucker

DRACULA (1931)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

 Whether it is Bela Lugosi's frighteningly icy stare or Dwight Frye's madly incessant need for bugs, this "Dracula" is among the most beautiful interpretations of Bram Stoker's famous novel (though it does take all kinds of liberties from the original text). It is certainly Lugosi who brings an eerie sense of menace to the film, and he makes you actually feel uneasy while watching it.

At the beginning of this dreamlike film, we are treated to the sight of a carriage on its way to Transylvania. Mr. Renfield (Dwight Frye) is in the carriage which will take him to Castle Dracula for a business venture. "Castle Dracula?" asks one of the superstitious gypsies. "No!!!" Nevertheless, despite ominous warnings from the townspeople, Renfield continues on his journey. He finally arrives at the castle (minus a driver) and meets the graceful Count (Bela Lugosi) at the top of a staircase. Here Lugosi has one of his many famous lines during the first half-hour: "I am Dracula, and I bid you welcome," says Lugosi.

We finally enter the vast dining room where dinner awaits but there is no servant. The Count acts as host and stares at Renfield, wraithlike and obviously hungry for his blood. Renfield cuts his finger with a butterknife and attracts some bloodcurling attention from Dracula before being abruptly stopped by a dangling crucifix.

Afterwards, Renfield falls victim to the Count's fangs and becomes his servant, as they make the trek to Dracula's new property at Carfax Abbey in England. It is there where the Count immerses himself in the company of Dr. Seward (Herbert Bunston), his daughter, Mina Seward (Helen Chandler), and Jonathan Harker (mild-mannered David Manners). Of course, there are some pretty necks to take advantage of in the meantime, while the corpses with neck wounds baffle everyone except for vampire expert Dr. Van Helsing (Edward Van Sloan). Meanwhile, the deliriously mad Renfield (with his famously chattering laugh) is a patient at Dr. Seward's hospital, and thus contemplates with his lack of sanity and unwillingness to do his Master's bidding.

"Dracula" was directed by Tod Browning, who a year later helmed the controversial and frightening horror film "Freaks." Here, his astute direction plays tricks with the audience, and he does a competent job with the superb cinematographer Karl Freund. This telling of Dracula leaves everything to the imagination. In one shockingly good scene, Harker notices that there is a wolf outside the house after Dracula hastily leaves. Naturally, the wolf is Dracula, but in this film, we never see him change into a bat, wolf or fog. In fact, Lugosi never has any noticeable fangs! To make the film really work your imagination, we never see him arise from a coffin. Each time a coffin's lid is open, we see a close-up shot of a hand lifting it while the camera pans away to the left and back to the right to witness the Count standing next to the coffin with the lid closed!

What makes this "Dracula" indelible in everyone's minds is Lugosi - he was perfectly cast as the Hungarian accented Count. His frozen stares and piercing eyes evoke an unforgettable image of an animal seeking its prey yet doing it with poise and subtlety. This by no means is the best of the vampire flicks (both "Nosferatu" versions can lay claim to that status) yet all the sequels and remakes of the world will never match Bela Lugosi's bloody good performance.

Footnote: Originally, "Dracula" was released without an actual musical score, despite the use of the famous "Swan Lake" excerpt by Tchaikovsky played during the introductory and closing credits. Recently, avante-garde composer Philip Glass composed a truly melodic and moody score to accompany the film for the first time.

Kubrick's space flight, and beyond

2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (1968)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

In my early childhood, two images stayed with me and frightened me. One was the Mona Lisa, a reproduction that was hanging in my bedroom wall. The other was the Star Child from "2001: A Space Odyssey." I am still not sure why the latter frightened me so but I think a giant baby inside a shimmering, circular sphere would be enough to impress any 6-year-old. "2001: A Space Odyssey" has many memorable images and, in my mind, it is still the best science-fiction film ever made - the only one to truly capture the essence of space travel, from Jupiter to the infinite where the ineffable mysteries of what lies ahead holds a certain fascination for many of us here on Earth. I think that we tend to forget that we're a small point of interest in the universe and "2001" makes us feel how insignificant we are.

Based on Arthur C. Clarke's short story, "The Sentinel," "2001" begins with the famous "Dawn of Man" section where numerous apes are seen living in cavernous surroundings. Leopards are predominant and hungry in the horizon. The apes shield themselves from other animals or fellow apes by mostly growling...but their peaceful existence is out to be demolished in one swift stroke. One particular ape, the Moonwatcher, develops the intelligence to realize that a bone can be used as a weapon - not only to eat meat by means of hunting and killing animals, but as a defense against other irate apes. And so, while his group of apes growls at the others, Moonwatcher strikes one ape with a bone. The peaceful, vegetarian apes have learned that violence can be instrumental in establishing order and change. And so the slow-motion shot of the Moonwatcher triumphantly throwing the bone up in the air segues to a magnificent transitional cut to the Orion spaceship of the 21st century - man has evolved and now space, which was a sight for the apes who gazed at the bright moonlit sky, has become the new frontier for more discoveries and perhaps new signs of intelligence.

It is the year 2001, as we see ships gracefully travelling through space. One of them carries Dr. Heywood Floyd (William Sylvester), an American scientist travelling from earth to a lunar space station. At the station, Floyd discusses with other Americans about the discovery of a monolith at Clavius, a station on the moon. There is a wonderfully subtle scene where, prior to the meeting, Floyd is reluctant to discuss the situation at Clavius to a couple of curious Russian scientists - he claims to know nothing about it yet admits he is unable to discuss it.

The Clavius excavation is followed by the mission to Jupiter where astronauts Dr. David Bowman (Keir Dullea) and Dr. Frank Poole (Gary Lockwood) are travelling in the Discovery ship. On board are three scientists who are in deep hibernation for the length of the trip and the HAL 9000 computer (voiced by Douglas Rain), who is the brains and the eyes of the ship. Bowman and Poole are unaware of the purpose of the mission but HAL knows - unfortunately, HAL may have committed an error in judgment on a supposedly malfunctioning antenna. Bowman and Poole feel nothing is wrong with the ship's antennae, according to their thorough observations as well as that of another HAL 9000 computer's test from the U.S. Mission Control. Is HAL wrong, or are the astronauts erroneous in their calculations? Can a supercomputer like HAL make a mistake or are the humans at fault?

The final half-hour of the film is one of the most superbly suspenseful, thrilling, visionary moments in the history of film. After Bowman realizes that HAL has intent to kill before letting anyone jeopardize the mission, he quickly disconnects HAL and begins a journey into the infinite when a floating monolith makes contact with him. Thus, Bowman sees a dazzling array of formations of geometric shapes of lights, clusters of stars, an infinite number of colored rays and, finally, an eighteenth century bedroom where noises and laughter are heard bouncing along the corridors of the unique decor. It is here where Bowman sees himself as a dying old man and, ultimately, becomes the Star Child - the last evolutionary step for mankind.

Most audiences and critics were understandably puzzled by the film since more questions are drawn up than answers (imagine how poorly this film would have fared if it played in theaters today where implication is always eroded in favor of explicating). Does Dave Bowman become the Star Child? Is the monolith an alien intelligence or an evolutionary step in mankind, or both? In answer to that question, I interpret the monolith, as I always have, as the next step in the evolutionary ladder and a sign of evolving intelligence, as demonstrated in the Dawn of Man sequence. Strangely enough, I never thought of it as an alien intelligence, despite the fact that scientists in the film allude to it as such. Heck, they could be wrong since scientists do make errors.

Did HAL 9000 plan to fool Bowman and Poole with the faulty mechanism in the ship's antennae or did HAL really think there was a malfunction, thus making us believe that computers can make errors? I am willing to go with the latter since computers can make errors. Why? Well, they are man-made, aren't they? Humans make errors all the time so it is conceivable that a computer, like HAL 9000, could make an error. Ironically, as Kubrick seems to indicate, HAL is about as human and compassionate, to some degree, as most of the human characters in the film. Of course, HAL is also a murderer but he can express emotion - consider his final lines in the film where Dave is frantically unplugging his memory units ("Just what do you think you are doing Dave? Dave, I am afraid.")

"2001" was once considered the ultimate acid trip back when it was released in 1968. There are also some who felt the film was too slow-paced and boring (Although I have heard the quote that Kubrick wanted to show that space travel was boring). I must disagree with the slow-pace - sure, it moves slowly but it needs to. This is not the kind of story that requires the fast-paced, action-per-minute theatrics of "Star Wars." Instead, Kubrick moves his story leisurely to show the beauty and mystery of space, the vastness of it, accompanied by the waltzes of composer Richard Strauss. Also noteworthy is the soundtrack, which is silent when Poole and Bowman investigate the antennae on the Discovery - occasionally you'll only hear them breathing which heightens the suspense.

"2001" is not my personal favorite of Kubrick's (that honor would go to "A Clockwork Orange") but it is an extraordinary film of sights and sounds, and certainly the purest, most poetic and electrifying science-fiction film ever made. In its story of the vastness of space and beyond the infinite, we realize that in the end, our planet Earth is only a microcosm of the big picture. 

Heinz 57

THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE (1962)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"The Manchurian Candidate" is one of the strangest, eeriest Hollywood films ever made, all the more so for starring Frank Sinatra, Janet Leigh and the late Laurence Harvey. I can't say for sure what it is ultimately about but I will say that it is about as paranoid and nightmarish as any film on politics I've ever seen.

Frank Sinatra is Major Bennett Marco, a member of the Korean patrol that has just arrived in the United States. The Korean War is over yet a new war seems to be brewing in the United States, specifically Communism. Marco's superior, Staff Sergeant Raymond Shaw (Laurence Harvey), has just won a Congressional Medal of Honor though he does not seem appreciative of it. Instead of working with his stepfather, Senator Iselin (James Gregory), Raymond opts to work for a newspaper in New York. You see, Raymond hates his mother, Mrs. Iselin (Angela Lansbury), and the Commie-hating senator. But Raymond can't seem to get away from the war or his own nightmares, especially one where he is hypnotized to kill members of his patrol. This just might seem a surrealistic nightmare drawn from repercussions of fighting in a war, but the other members of the patrol are having the same nightmare. Maj. Marco wants to investigate further, realizing that he feels hypnotized for having called his superior the warmest, kindest man ever - a man he clearly detests.

It turns out that Raymond is a trained, brainwashed assassin, and when he plays Solitaire and sees the Queen of Diamonds, he is instantly in a robotic, killing phase. To add even more complexity, Ray's mother, Mrs. Iselin, is behind it all - she wants her son to kill the Democratic presidential candidate and continue the war on communism. The mother is the grand manipulator, even convincing her husband, the McCarthy-like senator, to arrive at a reasonable figure of how many Commies are in Congress. 57 is the most likely number, thanks to a Heinz ketchup bottle.

The most famous sequence in the film is the actual nightmare, shown three different times. We see the Korean patrol seated, all looking dejected and listless. We also see the Chinese Communist hypnotist telling the soldiers what acts of murder to commit. A host of party officials are seen in the audience. But then director John Frankenheimer does a clever thing - he crosscuts between the hypnotist and a gardening lecture full of women, as if both are in the same room speaking the same words to the same patrol. If anything were to suggest the antecedents to the surreal world of David Lynch, this would be it.

There is also another strange sequence between Maj. Marco and the mysterious Rosie (Janet Leigh). They meet in a train headed to New York. He is unable to light a cigarette. She offers to help and they start a conversation about different states like Ohio and Delaware. At one point, he asks her, "Are you Arabic?" She says no. Huh? This is supposedly explained in the Richard Condon book, but I think it pinpoints Marco's own declining sense of reality, maybe increased disorientation. After all, can Raymond be the only one who was truly brainwashed?

The first-rate performances all lend the necessary credibility to the proceedings. Frank Sinatra, in his most powerful role, is a commanding presence, always direct and authoritative as the major. Janet Leigh lends a touch of class and something almost preternatural as Rosie. Laurence Harvey is like some sickly, grow-up Catholic schoolboy, unaware how he is being used and abused. But it is truly Angela Lansbury who rises above as the frigid, domineering, stifling Mrs. Iselin, completely understated and chilling in her demeanor. She is certainly one of the great villainesses of American cinema.

"The Manchurian Candidate" was released in 1962 but was then pulled out of circulation by Frank Sinatra, who was one of the producers, because the film barely made enough profit. It was then re-released in 1988. Some have alluded this film to the Kennedy assassination as proof that maybe Lee Harvey Oswald did act alone. I find it is a polemic of its times, yet it is also as relevant today as it was then. Yes, communism is no longer a threat and assassinations of presidential candidates are certainly not as common as they were forty years ago. What we have today is a world of nightmarish paranoia, seeking the enemy who remains elusive and invisible and fighting a war on terrorism that seems possibly unwinnable. In the 1960's, the soldiers were brainwashed. Today, as possibly evidenced by the 2004 remake, it is the people who may be brainwashed.