Tempestuous emotions in a tempestuous storm

SUNRISE: A SONG OF TWO HUMANS (1927)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Never has pure love, tempered with a deep darkness, seemed so enthralling, exhilarating and so precious. Such is definitely the case with "Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans," a unique and artistic picture. Yes, those were the words given by the Academy that bestowed it with such an honor - unique for sure. Artistic? I never agreed with labeling any film "artistic" because I would gather that it was implied. Nevertheless, "Sunrise" is an exquisite beauty of a movie with a darkness that is hard to forget and an ending that almost tramples what preceded it.

"Sunrise" is set in some anonymous village where the Man (George O'Brien) lives with his docile wife (Janet Gaynor) in a cottage - they have a child. The village is close-knit but there is a disturbance in the form of the Woman from the City (Margaret Livingston) who has an affection for the Man. She dresses up at night, has her shoes polished, goes out near the swamps after whistling for the Man's attention and waits, holding a flower in hand by the moonlight. The Man might be infatuated with this girl but when she suggests that he sell the farm and kill his wife by drowning her so they can go back to the city together, a shadow of darkness has enveloped the man. 

One day, the Man and the Wife venture out to the lake on the way to the city. Slowly, he starts to stand on the boat ready to attack. The Wife knows what he is about to (she is not ignorant of the Woman from the City either) and he breaks down and can't go through with it. She runs, trying to escape and leaves in a streetcar for the City but he catches up. What unfolds in leisurely and remarkably powerful fashion is how the Woman starts to see that he really loves her - he can't kill her and we know he can't. In our modern times, especially ever since the 1940's, this would have been the melodramatic template for a film noir or a contemporary sleazy 1980's/90's thriller yet director Murnau invests wisely in developing their relationship by the places they frequent. A restaurant turns the situation even more dour when the Wife can barely look at him or eat, but then there is a photo studio, a church wedding, a barbershop, an amusement park and finally a dance followed by the imbibing of liquor. They have had a full day of fun activities and their love remains unadulterated, untouched. You may be forgiven if you think you've wandered into a Charlie Chaplin movie.  

"Sunrise" then explodes with a tempestuous finale that could have gone either way. A horrific storm catches them unawares while rafting back to the cottage and they are swept up in it, and it is assumed that the Wife has drowned since she can't be found. Now the Woman from the City surely believes that her supposed man had done the deed. Murnau's film explodes with aching irony though one can't be sure if the ending is what he intended.

 "Sunrise" is also quite humorous throughout though not ostensibly a comedy. The photo studio bit involving the breakage of a statue while the couple waits for their pictures is hysterical, especially when the photographer sees a weird looking doll head on the statue. I love the Midsummer dance they perform, much to the delight of all patrons at the dance hall. With such upbeat scenes, there are also deeply unsettling ones such as the terrific storm; the moment when the Man almost strangles the Woman from the City not to mention the Wife; the baby crying in his bed during the storm; the Man weeping while searching for the Wife; the walk through the city where motor vehicles threaten to hit them (one shot looks like a cut-out of them walking into traffic and back to the cottage and it is something to see) and that moonlight shot is something out of either a nightmare or a bad dream. "Sunrise" doesn't collapse with its ending, something I won't give away, but it does leave some residue. We know what the Man is capable of doing, even if he doesn't do it. He loves his wife...but at what cost? Fascinating, disturbing, dazzling filmmaking that leaves you with some frightening questions. 

2 Men want to marry Janet Leigh

 HOLIDAY AFFAIR (1949)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

This could've been a routine throw-away kind of romantic Christmas movie - an adult comedy-drama about two men vying for the same single mother -  yet in the hands of director Don Hartman and with a delectable cast like Janet Leigh, Robert Mitchum and Wendell Corey, it is a surefire winner in every department. 

Janet Leigh is the single mother Connie, a comparison shopper who shops at rival department stores to determine price and quality of products. At Crowley's, one of the rival competitors, she hastily purchases a $79 train set from a suspicious, eagle-eyed sales clerk, Steve Mason (Robert Mitchum). The next day Connie attempts to return it (despite her son thinking the toy is his Christmas present) yet Steve is on to her, willing to report her (who would've guessed that identifying a comparison shopper could cost that person their job). After Steve hears Connie's story of being a war widow and solely supporting her son, he refunds her which costs Steve his job! This is some hectic Christmas holiday! Connie eventually befriends the charming and unemployed Steve but there is Connie's beau (Wendell Corey), a lawyer who wants to hurriedly marry her. Guess who stands in the way. 

There is nothing that can't be anticipated in "Holiday Affair" yet it is so persuasively performed and written with such remarkable honesty that it somehow feels new. Credit the towering Mitchum and the equally tall Corey for keeping the tension afloat with humor and pathos, and also one shouldn't forget the underrated Janet Leigh as a bewildered woman who seems to ready to take either man as long as they respect her anxious, sometimes impertinent son. I was quite moved by "Holiday Affair" and it won me over with some laughs and some peak dramatic moments (Corey attempts to give that darn kid with a lip a lesson, stopped short by Connie). The whole cast keeps this from ever sliding into false sentimentality, especially Mitchum in a rare, dignified role as a perfectly good, honest and reasonable guy. His admittance of wanting to marry Connie in front of her family and her beau is one of those jaw-dropping moments for the books. "Holiday Affair" is simply a delight from start to finish that will make anyone's heart melt, especially any jaded, frosty Scrooges out there.

Fast-moving tornado of thrills

 THE BIG STEAL (1949)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

From one crackling, thrilling, pulse-pounding minute after another, I was completely hooked by "The Big Steal" starring Robert Mitchum and Jane Greer in roles seemingly designed only for them. Between the husky-voiced and titanic presence of Mitchum coupled with "the Woman with the Mona Lisa Smile" herself, the sparkling Greer, I can't imagine a better way to spend any afternoon or evening watching this marvelous and comical entertainment with some vague noirish tones.

The basic plot is not on the same wavelength as Mitchum and Greer's last outing, the noir masterpiece known as "Out of the Past," but it will do for fans of both actors. Mitchum is an Army lieutenant named Halliday whose $300,000 payroll is pilfered by thief Jim Fiske (Patric Knowles). Of course, the money is on other people's potentially greedy minds like Halliday's boss, Captain Blake (William Bendix), who chases Halliday through most of Mexico. Keep in mind, Halliday is chasing Fiske and Fiske's girlfriend, Joan (Jane Greer), who is along for the ride hoping to collect $2,000 she's owed by Fiske! While in Mexico, everyone has to deal with the police and a certain savvy Police Inspector General Ortega (Ramon Novarro). There are fistfights, slaps across Joan's and Fiske's faces, suitcases filled with either money or shredded paper, suspicious Mexicans at remote gas stations, lots of car chases involving hairpin turns, etc. There's also mild banter between Halliday and Joan and a fantastically funny scene where they convince a construction foreman to let them pass through the road, claiming to be a married couple with an angry father on their tail! I got a big laugh out of that one.

For sheer entertainment value and no dull moments, "The Big Steal" is paced like a fast-moving tornado and it is very well-directed by Don Siegel. It has the shadings of noir but not quite the spirit - this is an elongated chase picture and the fun never lets up. I only wish Mitchum and Greer had made more films together - their chemistry ignites the screen so much, you might have to check yourself for sunburns.

Marriage Thrill is Gone

 LA NOTTE (1961)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Michelangelo Antonioni's "L'Avventura" existed in a vacuum where life or death in modern society had no purpose, especially when a person goes missing. With Antonioni's "La Notte," a married couple feels that whatever purpose existed in their marriage is gone although everyone else seems to be having a better time. This couple is not engaged by anything, and only one person in this marriage knows it and is seeking fulfillment.

Bored, desperately unhappy Lidia (Jeanne Moreau) is married to celebrated author Giovanni (Marcello Mastroianni), and the two live a life in the busy, industrialized city of Milan. A dying friend of the couple is Tommaso (Bernhard Wicki, in the most emotional performance in the whole movie), also a writer and only Lidia seems affected by her dying friend who seems to pay more attention to her than her own husband. Giovanni is caring but shows little emotion and would rather discuss his new book or Tommaso's letters. Giovanni jumps at the chance to sleep with a nymphomaniac in the same hospital wing before being stopped by some nurses! Meanwhile Lidia is outside the hospital in tears and you get the impression that it is not just her husband crowding her, it is the city. 

A book party is attended by both and Lidia, again, takes off. She visits a run-down area where she tells the cab driver to wait for her. She observes a momentary brawl between two young men which she tries to break up, shocked by the brutal violence of one man pummelling another. Lidia is affected by everything around her and seems more inclined to engage, to let her emotions come to the surface (she is momentarily fascinated by young men firing rockets). When she calls Giovanni to pick her up, they head to a nightclub where a dancer is able to balance a glass of champagne on various parts of her body (it is amazingly shot). Next they go to an all-night party given by a billionaire though Giovanni is more interested in the billionaire's daughter (a spectacular Monica Vitti). Lidia is given to glancing at attractive men yet never gives in - she is married but she is not sure she's in love anymore. The fact that she's aware and may or may not act on it is Antonioni's shred of optimism in Lidia.

"La Notte" is not a frustrating experience though it can be for some - the repression of these characters can border on indifference to the average viewer. Antonioni has cast two normally lively actors, Mastroianni and Moreau, and has tempered their charisma and animated personalities to such a degree that they seem like boring stiffs. And yet both actors' still shine by mere suggestion, including disapproving looks and glances, and that is key to an exceptionally absorbing film about an increasingly diluted marriage that may be coming to an end. Lidia is connected to her life, she sees what Giovanni doesn't see or care to. The extended all-night party sequence is Lidia not willing to engage, not to socialize and to walk away when some men approach her. She is an acute observer and when she reveals the unraveling of their marriage to Giovanni using phrases from his own love letter, it is tantamount to closure. Shockingly he doesn't know who wrote the letter but she knows. "La Notte" could be read as a tale of tragic marital repression but I think Lidia will get past the limited romantic love she receives from her husband. Next time a man comes up to her, she may go for it. 

Mischief caused by Veronica Lake

 I MARRIED A WITCH (1942)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

A bonkers fantasy comedy starring Veronica Lake and Fredric March? Surprisingly it works though it is hardly a major hallmark in this genre, it still lead to the eventual "Bewitched" TV series. 

Puritans burn witches at the stake in nasty old Salem while March (miscast purposely, I imagine) is the Puritan Wooley who seems to have some misgivings about the witch's death. Of course, in the world of this movie, the witches are real. Nevertheless, years pass to the present day where one of the direct descendants, Wallace Wooley (March, again), is about to be elected as governor and get married to a wealthy sourpuss, Estelle Masterson (Susan Hayward). The dead witch and her father, a sorcerer, emerge from a tree as billows of smoke and burn a hotel to the ground. This gets the attention of Wallace who saves a woman in the hotel, a naked woman named Jennifer (Veronica Lake) who is of course the witch. Well, not totally naked you understand, this was 1942.

Shenanigans abound as she finds herself in his mansion frequently, always flirting and speaking of loving Wooley. This causes tension within him since he's getting married the following day. Wallace can't seem to get rid of Jennifer or her father who feigns getting shot during the wedding reception! Will Wallace marry the unhappy Estelle who feigns smiles for the cameras or will he settle for the allure of Jennifer?

Predictable to a tee, "I Married a Witch" is mostly charming and frequently amusing though Fredric March is not the actor I would have chosen for the paranoid Wallace (he seemed more adept to the comical surroundings of "Nothing Sacred" with Carole Lombard). He does not have the ringing chemistry that is central to the film's love story with lovely Lake (her whispers alone would make any man's heart melt). Still, Veronica Lake sells the film with her aura and unmistakable beauty and she has good comic timing (also thanks to Rene Clair's skillful direction). She's not devilish or evil, just simply a mischievous woman who wants nothing more than everlasting love. She's the witch that all men dream of.  

A Timeless Kiss

 SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS (1937)

An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia

Taking a Brothers Grimm fairy tale and making it serenely beautiful, haunting, charming, funny and downright amazing in every single conceivable manner in terms of dazzling animation and simple storytelling without missing a beat is quite a major task. It is hard to do one more superbly and masterfully realized than 1937's classic "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs." 

Nothing new to report with its timeless story of the sweet, soulful princess Snow White (Adriana Caselotti) who is a basic maid living with her wicked, evil and jealous stepmother, the Queen (Lucille La Verne), in a castle. The Queen has black magic powers, speaks to a magic mirror, and conjures all sorts of spells to change her own appearance (more so in the Grimm tale than here). The Queen tells the Huntsman to kill Snow White and bring back her heart as evidence of her death. Oh, my, pretty dark Grimm tale indeed. The Huntsman is reluctant to kill the princess, tells her to run away, and he brings back a pig's heart instead. Thank heavens that Walt Disney and his incredible team of animators had chosen not to show the heart in a box when the Queen opens it. Then there's the singing Prince who wishes to court, or perhaps just marry, Snow White. Oh, and we cannot forget the seven dwarfs who live in a small house in the middle of the woods surrounded by all kinds of wildlife. My favorite dwarf is probably Grumpy because he is the one who has seen it all and can't find much joy in anything.

Of course, the depictions of the prince and Snow White hardly have personalities that stand out (Snow White is permitted in one scene to mimic Grumpy and his ways, and she does occasionally laugh). The Prince and the Princess are not exactly bland but not nearly as fully "animated" as the others and that includes the evil Queen with penetrating eyes that can pierce your soul (never mind the scary look of her as a wizened old woman with the poisonous red apple). The dwarfs are all distinctive and a colorful bunch of different personalities ranging from Sleepy to Bashful to Sneezy and Dopey and so on. Watching them all sing "Heigh Ho!" is simply wonderful and awesomely staged - every frame of this film is beautifully composed and truly three-dimensional with its innovative use of the multiplane camera. Nothing here registers as flat - everything in every frame comes alive with movement, color and variety especially in the depiction of all the woodland animals.

There are many Disney animated films but "Snow White" and (my personal favorite) "Fantasia" exceed what could be done with animation. "Snow White" is a fantastic, expertly told story and a masterpiece for all ages.   

Long live the apocatastasis!

 SIMON OF THE DESERT (1965)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Living on top of a marble pillar and seeking penance for unexplored sinful actions of the past is unduly spiritual, but is it enough? Simon (Claudio Brook) is that pillar dweller, an ascetic who prays to God though he often forgets the lines of prayer. As any ascetic would, Simon abstains from any indulgences that includes rich foods (lettuce will do), flirtatious women, trimming his long beard, and almost anything that could shake his confidence in God. Simon also expresses his disgust over a cleanly presentable, shaven priest to whom he insists should have a beard and ought to be excoriated. Simon's tough.

Luis Bunuel's "Simon of the Desert" is often very funny in an offhanded way and also deeply spiritual in every sense of the word. Simon just prays to God and occasionally performs a miracle such as healing a shepherd with stumps that change into newly formed hands. Simon is also granted a higher pillar for his continued penance (6 years, 6 months and 6 days in the shorter pillar) and for performing other miracles. Bunuel does not point out the absurdity of all this nor does he mock religion - he is satirizing religion but not the practice of it. Prayer is taken seriously and it seems to have its own undisclosed rewards for Simon who just wants God to ascend his human body to a heavenly spirit. Occasionally, there are temptations from Satan in the form of a girl in a sailor suit, to a female bearded shepherd who holds a lamb and then kicks it out of frame and even a coffin that slides through the desert to the pillar revealing a woman holding her breast! Satan in her few incarnations is played with beaming, sexually carnivorous delight by Silvia Pinal. 

The ending is a howler but not necessarily a narrative obstruction as it leads to Simon with a trimmed beard, modern clothes and a pipe inside of some 1960's dance arena where young kids move to a rock n' roll dance called "Radioactive Flesh." Satan has brought him here temporarily but Simon is not amused or finding any joy in this. He clearly wants a simpler life without noise or music, simply no indulgences. He has a higher power as a healer and a worshipper of God but is he still human? For a wicked, some might say blasphemous comedy that certainly preceded the comic riches of "The Life of Brian" and the solemnity of "The Last Temptation of Christ," "Simon of the Desert" is a special kind of subversive comedy - essentially a dignified and equally comical cinematic treat.