Biblical Southern Gothic extremes

THE NIGHT OF THE HUNTER (1955)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Melodrama can often fail or succeed based on how exaggerated the characters and situations are in a story. For "The Night of the Hunter," it is the case of extreme exaggeration and laughable execution in the most stereotyped of performances. I know some consider this a milestone in the annals of film classics from yesteryear, but I found it to be one of the most ridiculously over-the-top films to portray Southern caricatures I have ever seen. It is Southern Gothic to be sure, and all I can see is Charles Laughton's contempt for these characters.

The story involves a Ben Harper (Peter Graves), who is sent to prison at the beginning of the film after hiding a large sum of money in the house. He leaves behind his two kids and his wife, Willa Harper (Shelley Winters). Enter fellow convict Harry Powell (Robert Mitchum), who gets wind of the missing money in prison. Harry eventually gets out of prison, woos and marries Willa and hunts for the money. Only the two kids (who know of the money's hiding place) are too smart to let anything happen to the money, yet they have also underestimated Harry and his murderous ways.

The revered Charles Laughton had directed "The Night of the Hunter," his only film behind the camera. Whatever he found unusable in James Agee's script (thoroughly revised though Agee still receives credit) was thrown out by Laughton himself, who completely rewrote the screenplay. I am not sure Laughton's improvements enhanced the film in any way. Though I had only seen this film once, I can say that every character is stereotyped to the nth degree. From Bible-spouting citizens who laugh and scream a little too loudly to the sometimes chilling Harry, a supposed Reverend, who hounds and disturbs kids to the high-pitched Missouri accent of Shelley Winters to two thoroughly bland kids being hunted by Harry, and on and on. Only the character of Rachel (played by the phenomenal Lillian Gish), the dear woman with a shotgun who tends to runaways, is given a shred of depth and dignity and Gish underplays wonderfully. The rest of the cast could have done the same. As powerful a presence as Mitchum is, he was far more menacing in 1962's "Cape Fear."

The two runaway kids seem unable to respond or emote in any effective manner at all. Laughton reportedly hated directing kids since he despised them, handing the reins to Robert Mitchum to direct them. The result shows on screen, especially in two instances. One is where the girl, Pearl (Sally Jane Bruce), cries in desperation before her brother, John (Billy Chapin), is about to be brutally wounded by Harry. It is a reaction that a normal child in a real situation would have reacted with far more horror than is shown. Another is where John cries at the sight of Harry arrested by the cops as he is handcuffed to the ground, reminding him of how his father was pinned to the ground and similarly handcuffed. These reactions seem forced and unnatural, and we are supposed to be rooting for the kids!

There are some beautifully composed shots in black-and-white that certainly stand out and have influenced many filmmakers, thanks to the great cinematographer Stanley Cortez (he also did the beautifully pristine "The Magnificent Ambersons"). I like the perspective of the Reverend on horseback as daybreak arrives while the kids hide in a hayloft. The scene where Harry stands at the top of the basement stairs and utters those famous words, "Chilll....dren!" The fantastic shot of Rachel sitting in her rocking chair with a shotgun and singing in harmony with Harry who sits outside the house waiting to grab the kids. Also worth noting is Wllla's demise underwater - a staple of great noir shots that is quite eerie. But these are all images that work in spite of the movie - as a whole, the movie is just too overplayed and overdramatized to warrant such great images. Think of it as Southern Gothic noir, only the Southern aspect is so damn melodramatic with its Bible hymns and choirs and irritating music score by Walter Schumann that you are likely to stay away from churches for some time.

"The Night of the Hunter" is considered a cult film and a classic for many movie lovers, and I can see where the appreciation lies. But its overly melodramatic and unsubtle notes undermine any clarity or suspense for the story to work. I suppose it is too Southern with a capital S for my tastes."Baby Doll" it ain't.

Beauty killed the beast

KING KONG (1933)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

1933's "King Kong" is the granddaddy of all modern horror and disaster films. Amazing to think how audiences reacted back then to the sight of a giant ape in a forgotten island, taken to New York City where he runs on the loose. Audiences were terrified back then and understandably so. "King Kong" is not a great movie by any means, but it is a fun-filled ride and the special-effects are awesome in their own way.

The story has Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong), a daring, adventurous filmmaker who is looking for the next scream queen in one of his pictures. He finds a wandering woman in the streets of Manhattan, Ann Darrow (Fay Wray), whom he's convinced will be a major star. They are off and running, headed for a ship voyage to an unknown island unlisted in any map, Skull Island. Of course, a dim sailor (Bruce Cabot) takes an interest in Ann, especially when she is photographed in lascivious, provocative poses by Carl. Carl's intention is to see how she'll look when horrified by something unnatural. Eventually, they make it to the island, which is surrounded by fog and inhabited by a native tribe who keep chanting the name "Kong." The ship crew is seen by the natives who are clearly interested in the blonde babe, Ann. During the night, some natives kidnap Ann as a sacrifice for Kong. It turns out Kong is a 25-50 foot burly ape who pounds his chest and can wrestle giant snakes, T-rexes and pterodactyls. He also has a way with heavy wooden logs and women. This Skull Island is clearly the land that time forgot.

What delivers in "King Kong" is the sight of this ape and all the special-effects necessary to make it believable. This was the time of the groundbreaking work of stop-motion animation, thanks to Willis O'Brien who pioneered those effects (check out 1925's "The Lost World" for some amazing dinosaur effects). As a result, there was a jerkiness to the effects that lend it some modicum of credibility. Even Ray Harryhausen, who later utilized the possibilities of stop-motion animation even further, was recently quoted as saying that they had a nightmarish quality. Very true, and that is why nobody has forgotten the original King Kong creature. He is as much a part of the New York City skyline as the Empire State Building. It has a peculiar magic realism that today's CGI effects lack.

That is not to say that everything else in "King Kong" is as eye-openingly incredible. The performances by Armstrong, Cabot and Fay Wray (a helluva screamer) wouldn't merit a mention on any Broadway playbill - there is not much depth or personality to these actors. The dialogue stinks and is as witless as they come, though I liked the line said by a New Yorker in reference to men being like gorillas. What does work is King Kong, a creature unlike any other in cinematic history. He is an angry beast who wants his female companion to stick with him, even laying near his feet at the top of the Empire State Building as he fights attacking biplanes. He is seen as a terror by all, though I think making Armstrong something of a good guy at the end when he utters the famous line, "It was beauty that killed the beast" is clearly off-the-mark.

The main reasons to see "King Kong" are to see Kong in action, particularly demolishing everything in his path. And there are those close-ups of Kong munching on citizens of New York and the tribesmen of Skull Island (shots that were initially cut out of the original release). And who can forget Kong as he practically strips poor Fay Wray while she sleeps (another censored scene)! If you can get past the wooden acting and cliched dialogue, "King Kong" will deliver as a nightmare ride of epic proportions.

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.