No eternal damnation, just eternal love

 FAUST (1926)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

F.W. Murnau had done something unusual with his crossbreed of Marlowe's "Dr. Faustus" and Goethe's "Faust" versions and earlier literary texts - he has made it terrifying. The notion of selling your soul for all the riches in the world is not exactly what is explored in this "Faust" film. Sure, Faust, the lead protagonist (Gösta Ekman), does sign his name on a contract with Mephistopheles and sells his soul yet it is mostly for the people in town dying from the plague. When that doesn't seem like enough, Faust wishes to do away with his whiskers and old age and become young again. When that is accomplished, Faust falls in love with Gretchen, a virginal young girl who runs away from Faust. Naturally, Mephistopheles can help cure that romantic problem with a tasteful golden necklace.

1926's "Faust" is a mite closer to the original Goethe text (more so than later adaptations) and it has its own distinctive F.W. Murnau peculiarities. For one, the sight of an enormous Satan casting a shadow with his wings over a German town is a terrifying image. There's also the sly Mephistopheles (scene-stealing Emil Jannings in an atypical role) chasing after Gretchen's aunt, Martha (a colorful turn by Yvette Guilbert), that seems to belong to another movie (she also wears a bracelet given to her by the devil yet not much comes out of it). It is genuinely funny and tingles the spine at first, especially not knowing what this devil is really up to, but then it gets repetitious. Faust chasing after Gretchen also goes beyond the tolerable meter as they run circles around the town's children, and keep circling and circling. He clearly pines for her.   

Still, I have to give F.W. Murnau credit where it's due with the depiction of Gretchen's painful scenes (a nerve-wracking turn by Camilla Horn) where she solicits help from the townspeople who ignore her after being named a harlot by her own murdered brother (Mephisto does the deed). The truly tough scene of Gretchen walking in a blizzard and seeking shelter with her newborn is one that will stay with me forever (she conjures an image of a cradle and places the newborn in it, wherein the baby promptly dies). Also powerful are scenes of an older Faust, an alchemist, trying to burn books including the Bible. I was quite touched when Faust seizes upon Mephistopheles to help rescue Gretchen from being burned to the stake. Faust doesn't realize that Mephisto is a trickster and unreliable and, if memory serves, Faust has always been a pathetic literary figure whose temptations outdo his sensibilities. Our sympathy for him is stretched when, earlier in the story, he seduces the Duchess of Parma (Hannah Ralph) resulting in the devil killing the Duke in a duel - all this for eternal sex, I gather, though it is short-lived.

"Faust" is amazingly shot and directed, in particular the use of looming, stark shadows (a major staple of German Expressionism that was fluently used in Murnau's "Nosferatu"). I also love the distorted various rooftops that seem to collide in depth of field shots seen from an ascending road. Jannings is memorably evil with his raised eyebrows and black mane of hair that seems impossible to maintain (of course, he's a devil so he can). "Faust" stands as a sardonic, exemplary, often haunting meditation of Goethe and Marlowe's texts (though I do not see much of Marlowe's influence here). Somehow, in Murnau's and Faust's mind, love beats the demon.   

Wolf Man suffering from amnesia

 THE WEREWOLF (1956)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

What is seemingly another werewolf film trying to conjure memories of Lon Chaney, Jr. and the Universal Monster lot has some other tricks up its sleeve. "The Werewolf" also fulfills what Lon Chaney, Jr. did, build sympathy for a man who doesn't want to transform into that howling creature. The sympathy seems stronger yet less sad and unfortunate than with Chaney, but make no mistake - Steven Ritch as the amnesiac man who is frightened by the prospect of transformation does a helluva job of making us care about his plight.

Most of "The Werewolf" has Ritch running around the mountainside, trying to evade the police after he killed a bully outside a bar. This guy doesn't need moonlight to change - he can transform during the day (some day-for-night scenes get confusing with daylight scenes). It turns out this poor guy was in a car crash, rescued by a pair of doctors who had injected wolf serum into him to help deal with the fallout of some presumed nuclear holocaust. These doctor Moreau-types also have ideas of creating a super race of werewolves!

"The Werewolf" has some decent black-and-white photography yet the werewolf transformations are not nearly as fun as Lon Chaney Jr.'s haunting changes in "The Wolf Man" (the werewolf looks a lot like that sad sack in "The Return of the Vampire," both by the same makeup artist Clay Campbell). Still, the film plays it straight and has subtle sci-fi overtones that lend it a little pizazz. I love the national forest look and the firm sheriff (Don Megowan) who has no time for love with a doctor's assistant - he'd rather hang with some of the residents holding torches. I also love seeing the poor man's family trying to convince the lycanthrope to remedy his sickness and come home. Weak ending is saved by some decent acting and a couple of imaginative werewolf attacks. 

Mild Lycanthropy shocks

 WEREWOLF OF LONDON (1935)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Of all the werewolf movies I've seen (with certain modern exceptions), Henry Hull's botanist character is one of the dullest. Hull has expressive eyes that can show fear and emit some level of pathos but the ill-written screenplay doesn't allow much for dynamism or soul. 

In the rather clunky opening sequence set in some backlot meant to represent Tibet, Hull's botanist, Dr. Wilfrid Gendon, is in search of an uncommon (and fictional) flower known as the Mariphasa lupina lumina. With his trusty binoculars, he locates the flower in record time. Dr. Gendon and his exhausted associate travel through the mountainous region and are almost stopped by an invisible force! They continue on until they find the flower and Wilfrid is attacked by a werewolf and bitten on the arm! Back in London, Wilfrid shows off his foreign plant collection, one of which includes a Venus flytrap and a plant that could easily be mistaken for something out of "Little Shop of Horrors." A certain Dr. Yogami (Warner Oland) is after the same flower that can heal or prevent transformation, likely due to the fact that he's also been afflicted with lycanthropy. 

The film has some mild atmospheric flavor for its customary Universal London fog and cobblestoned streets, though that does not set it apart from the norm of its time. A lot of the indoor scenes are visually cramped. As for the actors, Hull is inefficient as the insufferable doctor and it is hard to distinguish between the minimal werewolf makeup (the monster's widow's peak is its major distinction) and the doctor - they are practically the same except for the fangs. This werewolf has a predilection for attacking and killing women - our first misogynist werewolf? It also visits a zoo for some reason (housing a couple of wolves - nice touch) where the guard is having an illicit affair! Guess who gets killed? 

I loved seeing the delicate-as-a-flower Valerie Hobson (appearing the same year as Frankenstein's fiancee in "The Bride of Frankenstein") playing the doctor's wife who slowly loses any hope of romance with this introverted man. She seeks the companionship of her old friend and past lover, Paul (the delightful Lester Matthews). Why didn't someone just cast Matthews as the werewolf and give Hull a chance to be as charismatic as Paul? 

"Werewolf of London" is sort of entertaining and fascinating to see as the first official full-length werewolf movie before Lon Chaney, Jr. immortalized it. Change the casting of the lead protagonist and they might have made a more impactful horror flick.

War fought on the frontlines of alleged domestic bliss

THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES (1946)

An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia

When World War II ended, it signalled a victory for America after four arduous years of defeating the Japanese and the Nazis. The American war-time propaganda illustrated that soldiers came back from the war virile and ready to dive right back into society without a hitch. They were America's heroes yet the sad reality was that many young soldiers never came back and were killed in action. "The Best Years of Our Lives," a stupendously enlightening and divine motion picture, shines a light on three soldiers who survived and returned from the war. They reluctantly and awkwardly matriculate back into society with mixed results. Director William Wyler and the astute writers Robert E. Sherwood and MacKinlay Kantor have fashioned a relatable story of coming home to a different kind of war being fought - emotional struggles with family and marriages rather than the Germans' piercing bullets. War is hell and so is the homefront.

The three men returning from combat are Air Force Captain Fred Derry (Dana Andrews), a married soda jerk who had lived with his parents in an impoverished neighborhood and married a woman he hasn't heard from in years; Sergeant Al Stephenson (Fredric March), who worked in a bank and is married to the faithful Milly (Myrna Loy) and has two children who have matured; Navy sailor Homer Parrish (Harold Russell) who lost both of his hands and has hooks instead that can be tricky to use. The men have difficulty in acclimating to the environment they left behind for too long. Fred comes home to his apartment only to find his wife is not present and has never written to him. When he tries again, she's home and delighted yet she doesn't comprehend his mental issues, which include PTSD (shell-shock was the term at the time, though you never hear it mentioned here). Al Stephenson doesn't have to rebuild his relationship with his wife or his grown-up children yet he feels the need to imbibe alcohol - to cure his potentially ailing mind and revisit his favorite bar. Homer loves the girl-next-door but he imagines she will not want to spend her life with a wounded man - she may not realize his deeper wounds are in his heart than in his physical handicap. 

"The Best Years of Our Lives" doesn't sugarcoat Fred's trauma but you almost get the sneaky suspicion that he misses the war as far as his relationship with his brothers-in-arms. A scene where he visits an airport graveyard with inoperable war planes is powerful stuff. Fred is battling his vivacious wife (Virginia Mayo) who wants to go clubbing every night - Fred is more comfortable being home. Al Stephenson seems to fare better but that is because he has a family that supports him and a bank job that is seemingly secure, as long as he doesn't give away too many loans to GI's. It is Homer who should be the weakest link to the war, considering his wounds, yet he tries to move forward except he's not sure how. Will that girl-next-door be the ticket to domestic bliss? And what of Fred's obvious love for Al's daughter, Peggy (Teresa Wright)? Peggy reciprocates that love and is willing to break up his unhappy marriage. That is strong stuff for 1946. And let's not get started on that drugstore customer who has the audacity to tell Homer that the war was for suckers! I can imagine audiences getting a little irate over that statement so soon after the war ended.

"The Best Years of Our Lives" is thankfully fussy with character details and nuances over melodrama. This film could've been a high-pitched soap opera and could've featured footage of the war itself with the soldiers on the frontlines. Wyler opts for the war fought on the frontlines of alleged domestic bliss in suburbia and the cities. This is peak cinema of the 1940's.   

Familiar yet engrossing tale of wealth inequality

 HIGH AND LOW (1963)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

An endlessly fascinating treat of a movie, "High and Low" is a highly watchable police procedural directed with smoothness and precision by Akira Kurosawa. Once you see it, you can ascertain its influence on most anything having to do with police procedurals nowadays. What is more enthralling about "High and Low" is how enveloping it is in terms of character and motivation to move the plot forward. It also has an extended third act that feels both ghostly and decadent. 

The great, towering presence of Toshiro Mifune lends itself to gravitas specifically as Gondo, a fiercely devoted executive for a shoe company called National Shoes. Gondo anticipates a takeover from board members of the company, sensing that their loyalty lies to sales and not their devotion to a superb product (the board members want to use cheaper materials to increase profit.) Gondo refuses to budge despite knowing there could be a takeover and they could sell him out. He has other plans which quickly fall apart when his son is kidnapped, no more than mere seconds after the board members hastily leave their meeting. It turns out that Gondo's son was not kidnapped, it was the chauffeur's son! A call is made expeditiously by the kidnapper to Gondo and if a ransom is not paid (the sum is in the region of what his company is worth), the child will be killed. Whereas Gondo was adamant about paying the ransom when it was presumably his child, he has a change of heart when it involves his chauffeur's offspring. Is money everything and anything - what kind of man values money over a human life? We understand Gondo's dilemma - he will lose his company and his luxurious lifestyle which his wife (Kyôko Kagawa) was more than accustomed to - but should it be a dilemma? 

Kurosawa toys with these questions over a man's reluctance to take care of his own, no matter the cost. Mifune doesn't play Gondo as an unsympathetic man, only an unreasonable one who eventually gives in to the kidnapper. The rest of the film follows the police proceeding to find the child and the kidnapper. The child is eventually found but not the kidnapper, and the calculated approach of giving the kidnapper the bags of money by throwing through a window in a moving train will leave you gasping for air. The details of the police investigation are intriguing as we follow the clues from a phone booth location to a plume of pink smoke that serves as a major plot point (the film is in black-and-white with one moment of pink color that is one of the best uses of color ever). 

"High and Low" may seem long but every moment counts and is done under the assured direction of Kurosawa, one of our great filmmakers. There is a moment where Gondo is seen outside a shoe store looking in, and the police are surveilling the kidnapper who asks Gondo for a light. It brings up a question of not some inevitable twist around the corner but rather a situation where the have and the have-not meet, only one knows who the other is. There is also a sequence where a bunch of drug addicts are walking around in an alley like zombies with the kidnapper looking for someone to inject with heroin. The pale-faced addicts are all lost souls looking for their next fix in a post-World War II environment. Both as an obvious yet essential statement on how money is an overriding factor in business and relationships and the decay of certain parts of Japan where poverty exists, "High and Low" is never unrelenting or grim but it is a nail-biter with an astounding ending that doesn't feel victorious or triumphant. Vintage crime film by the one and only Kurosawa.

The Perfect Chase Picture

 NORTH BY NORTHWEST (1959)

An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia 

Frenetic chase pictures are a dime a dozen but only one holds any true merit to go that extra mile, unafraid of going ballistic in terms of absurdity and breathless moments that will leave you awestruck. Alfred Hitchcock's "North By Northwest" is not just a perfect chase picture, it is the perfect chase picture. It is chock full of action galore and suspenseful situations that continually build into elegant, inventive moments of spectacle and more intimate moments in intimate surroundings as well (the hilarious auction sequence; the Franklin Lloyd Wright house sequence). Only Hitchcock can build suspense at a cafeteria that faces Mount Rushmore! Only Hitchcock can astound with a crop-duster plane dusting fields where there are no crops while trying to kill our reluctant hero.

The coup de resistance is the perfect, charismatic leading man, Cary Grant, playing the most indelible unlikely hero with a name that, admittedly, may not be the most memorable yet you get used to it. That name is Roger O. Thornhill, a successful advertising executive who has been married once too often and still communicates with his mother. Grant doesn't play Roger as some unlikable lout - he is simply a suave, educated man who doesn't think for a second about stealing a cab ride (neither do the villains). He has charm, elegance and sophistication and is not boring - the way Grant walks gracefully across a room in this movie has always inspired me. When Roger is kidnapped and mistaken for a secret agent who doesn't exist, we feel for him and hope he can get out of this haywire situation. The beauty of a mystifyingly uniformed screenplay by Ernest Lehman is that you always wonder how Roger will get out of any perilous situation he is in, no matter how hair-raising. Whether he is forced to imbibe copious amounts of bourbon, not paying a ticket and escaping into the former 20th Century Limited train after an assassination hit at the UN (!), climbing down the Mount Rushmore in cliffhanging moments that would make any formidable hero sweat, bidding ridiculous amounts of money at an auction on a statue holding microfilm with government secrets, and so much more that it would be criminal to reveal all. The whole movie is about a spy who isn't one yet he becomes rather good at it. We are never one step ahead of Roger - when he discovers a new angle or a twist about someone, we are in lockstep with whatever new surprising information develops.   

From the most delicious nefarious villain of 1950's cinema that I can think of, the devious Vandamm played by James Mason, to one of the most mature and intelligent blonde female leads of almost any Hitchcock film, Eva Marie Saint as Eve Kendall, a mysterious woman on the train who has more than a few secrets up her sleeve, "North By Northwest" has much up its own sleeve. Saint's romantic scenes with Grant set the fireworks ablaze, more so than in "To Catch a Thief" and possibly "Notorious." A sumptuous, exciting, goose-pimpling music score by Bernard Herrmann adds enormously to the proceedings. "North By Northwest" is about as entertaining as most Hollywood movies ever get.    

1950's adventure spiked with drama and humanity

 WHITE WITCH DOCTOR (1953)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

1950's adventure movies set in foreign lands almost always end with the man searching for gold ending up having a heart of gold. Gold treasure is what lifelong Africa resident and animal hunter “Lonni” Douglas (Robert Mitchum) is reluctantly after, yet his greedy partner (Walter Slezak) wants to be anything but poor. Hunting big game and selling wild animals to the zoo doesn't exactly bring a lifetime of riches. "White Witch Doctor" has the advantage of three plotlines, one involving the search for gold within the territory of an allegedly deadly African tribe, the other having an inexperienced nurse, Ellen Burton (Susan Hayward), trying to make amends and further her late husband's doctoral work in the jungles, and the tribes themselves and their daily rituals.

"White Witch Doctor" is probably the only movie where you will hear Mitchum speaking the Congo's language, the Bakuba, one of 2,400 different dialects of which Ellen knows only one. A lot of the film is studio-bound Congo with some rear-screen vistas, and a fake gorilla! I did expect a fake gorilla, I suppose, but the lion was very real so maybe Frank Buck was keeping the lion tame for some wild scenes where it attacks a Bakuba boy. Meanwhile, that boy suffers a near-fatal injury from the lion's attack and so unless Ellen can heal the boy, and if Lonni can dissuade his greedy partners from entering the territory and steal the gold, all will be well. 

"White Witch Doctor" is quite absorbing despite its near-artificiality in its depiction of its wild environment. Mitchum stands tall and shows some level of heroism. Susan Hayward shows strength, possesses selfless determination in her Ellen character, and I could imagine these two characters trying to make it work in the Congo. The film may not be director Henry Hathaway's greatest hour but as drama with spades of adventure, a quietly stirring music score by Bernard Herrmann, not to mention a more civilized and humane way of presenting African tribes and their rituals than say a Tarzan movie, it is worthwhile and you will not lose interest.