A two-fisted, pistol packin' Ronald Reagan

LAW AND ORDER (1953)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When I think back to Ronald Reagan, the actor, I think of "Bedtime for Bonzo" and "Knute Rockne." I tend to forget he was in some westerns and that, overall, he was quite the lawman (and an adept horse rider) in "Law and Order," a two-fisted, colorful, highly romanticized and thoroughly exciting western. It is the top-of-the-line western for those who believe that heroes were once heroes, and the villains were easy to pick out from a lineup.

This remake of a 1932 film of the same name takes the same idea of Tombstone and the Wyatt Earp legend and, basically, changes the names and settings. Frame Johnson (Ronald Reagan) is the retired marshal who wants to own a ranch and live with his dynamic girlfriend and saloon owner, Jeannie (Dorothy Malone), in a new town called Cottonwood. Of course, easier said than done when there are some old scores to settle. Mr. Johnson had been rumored to have amassed a high body count in his day, and many want to see if it is true (though he rather bring a man to justice than shoot him). Mr. Kurt Durling (Preston Foster) lost his hand in a gun battle with Frame and wants no part of this man in his town, which he practically runs. The judge wants Frame to be sheriff and Frame is quite reluctant, so Lute Johnson (Alex Nicol), Frame's brother, becomes sheriff. And all hell breaks loose in typical Technicolor western fashion, replete with exciting shoot-outs and very well-choreographed fistfights.

Reagan has a tough sincerity that is refreshing for this Wyatt Earp revision, and he has the dynamite presence of those red-blushed cheeks of Dorothy Malone to smile at often. The Durlings (including a young Dennis Weaver) are properly villainous to the nth degree, and the settings and locales are authentic. In short, "Law and Order" is not a great movie nor is it among the twenty-five best films the western genre has to offer. But as a Saturday matinee on a rainy day, it will do just fine.

Preacher, gunslinger, classic Glenn Ford

HEAVEN WITH A GUN (1969)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Gunslinger: 'I am burying a man.'

Cowpoke:    'That's a sheepherder.'

Gunslinger: 'I know.'

This small dialogue exchange is the opening sequence of "Heaven With a Gun," a strange western that somehow manages to work even if it shouldn't. The parts of the film do not make a cohesive whole but they do make a watchable film, if nothing else.

"Heaven With a Gun" stars Glenn Ford as the gunslinger in that sequence, a man named Jim Killian who certainly doesn't like to see sheepherders, particularly Hopi Indian sheepherders, hanged. Nonetheless, after burying the man and forcing two cattle cowpokes to make wave, Jim arrives in the town Vinegaroon, populated by the usual kinds of characters such as drunk cowboys, genial storekeepers, loose prostitutes who demand prompt payment for their duties, and so on. And, as always, there is a poker game involving high stakes with the former cowpokes Jim had confronted earlier. One of them is Coke (David Carradine), "the wild mustang," who is ready to kill Jim. And we get the obligatory scene of an impending act of violence at a poker table interrupted by the owner of the saloon/bar (known as the "Road to Ruin"). In this case, it is a breath of fresh air named Madge (the fabulous Carolyn Jones), who knows Jim from the past.

Jim's intention is to start a church in town called "The Mission Church of the Good Shepherd." That's right, he is not only a gunslinger, he is a preacher! He is heaven with a gun, similar to the character Eastwood would later play in "Pale Rider." He hopes to bring faith and communion into the town, and also hopes that the sheepherders and the cattle herders will agree that both animals can graze on the same range. Naturally, Jim's plan is met with plenty of disapproval from the cattle herders, including the grizzly Asa Peck (John Anderson). And there are also other obstacles, such as a Hopi woman named Leloopa (an unrecognizable Barbara Hershey), who wants to cook and clean for Jim since he buried her father. And perhaps Madge is a little jealous of this woman, considering that she thinks Jim is the man for her.

"Heaven With a Gun" does have its flaws. The introduction of a man named Mace (J.D. Cannon) who served prison time with Jim simply marks time - the character is evil yet has charisma and yet you wish there was more of him. Also there is a rape scene in the film that also feels extraneous, not to mention a near scalping of another character. The violence is so heavy and the sheepherders are so clearly without redeeming value that you wish there was something more than the ending that is given. It all feels anticlimactic but I will say this - it is a rare kind of ending for a western and must have been placed there because of the pacifist times in which it was made.

On the plus side, Glenn Ford is in fine form, exuding toughness, sweetness and a tinge of humor - he also makes the character of Jim soulful and forgiving. Ford's scenes with the lovely Carolyn Jones are wonderful if short-lived. I also like Barbara Hershey, despite the fact she looks too pristine to be a Hopi Indian (check out those sparkling white teeth!) Scenes of a barn being turned into a church and a nude woman sitting outside a house are rarities in this genre, not to mention the ending. "Heaven With a Gun" is fine, two-fisted entertainment but it does ring a little hollow. Nonetheless, the cast makes it as close to heaven as a western could ever be.

Kubrickian Path to War

PATHS OF GLORY (1957)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Paths of Glory" is one of the greatest war films ever made, an indictment on war and the complex morality behind the decisions made in trench warfare. What helps make it so complex and involving in every scene is the direction by Stanley Kubrick and the exquisitely precise and multilayered screenplay by Kubrick, Calder Willingham and Jim Thompson.

Set in France in 1916, the film begins with the arrival of General Broulard (Adolphe Menjou) at a French chateau where he meets with General Mireau (George Macready) to discuss the golden opportunity of taking the "Ant Hill," a no man's land held by the Germans. The notion is that if Mireau takes the command, he may be promoted and it is also an event for the media to focus on. Mireau, the determined optimist, immediately tells Colonel Dax (Kirk Douglas) of the news, much to Dax's dismay. Dax defends his position by quoting from Samuel Johnson ("patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel") and feeling his men are not up to the task so soon. Accompanying Broulard is Major Saint-Auban (Richard Anderson, best known for his role in "The Six Million Dollar Man" TV show) who refers to the soldiers as having a herd instinct, or stated as "an animal sort of thing." Dax corrects the major, reminding him they are human after all. Nevertheless, Dax is convinced of taking the "Ant Hill," perhaps in fear he will be rep laced by someone who will not take proper care of his men. Thus the colonel tells his men that they must be prepared to attack, though the fact that the weather will be clear and sunny as opposed to foggy and cloudy establishes this battle as a losing proposition.

"Paths of Glory" has two scenes of battle, one quiet and serene and the other noisy and confusing. The first scene is of a patrol organized to navigate no man's land. They include the alcoholic Lieutenant Roget (Wayne Morris), Corporal Paris (Ralph Meeker) and Private Lejeune (Ken Dibbs). The area is already littered with shell holes, corpses, lots of wire and rubble. Lejeune is inadvertently killed by Lieutenant Roget, the first accused of "cowardice in the face of the enemy" by Corporal Paris.

The other battle is of course the taking of Ant Hill, which becomes a haelstorm of explosions and bullets in and around the trenches. The men fear getting too close to the German wire because of the intensity of the explosions, and are almost killed by General Mireau who is infuriated that they would stay in the trenches to avoid enemy fire. Three soldiers under Dax's command are arbitrarily chosen to be court-martialed and face execution for "cowardice in the face of the enemy." One of them is Corporal Paris, who is ironically picked by Lieutenant Roget.

"Paths of Glory" follows the trial leading to the execution, seen as justice for men who refused to fight, and Kubrick and the writers Willingham and Thompson ask tough questions with little in the way of a clear-cut resolution. Should these men be executed for acting cowardly and not advancing in no man's land? Is General Mireau any less guilty for almost having his men killed by their own troops for not advancing? At one point, Colonel Dax even asks to be set as an example for his men by being executed, but is instead left as a defense lawyer for the three charged men in the court martial proceedings. What Kubrick shows, and what has become a staple of his later work, is that the powerful men at the top, namely General Broulard and General Mireau, see these soldiers as nothing more than animals and treat them as such, stating that if the enemy fire was so intense, the result would have been corpses littered around the trenches, not cowards. Ironically, during the penultimate final scene in the chateau, General Mireau reminds Broulard that the man he stabs in the back is a soldier. The inhumanity and lack of sympathy is powerfully shown in Kubrick's treatise on war, and lead the way to many more ambiguous moral lessons in human behavior in films such as "Dr. Strangelove" and especially "A Clockwork Orange."

Based on the 1935 World War I novel by Humphrey Cobb, "Paths of Glory" is emotionally wrenching and thrillingly realized. Every sequence is masterfully composed and framed, including the dolly shots through the trenches where Dax and General Broulard frequently travel while explosions are heard in the background. The court martial sequence in the chateau is as tense and nail-biting as the execution itself.

The dialogue is also crisp and direct. I loved the conversations between Broulard, Mireau and Dax in the chateau, a setting for a different kind of battleground where words and strategies are exchanged in reference to the lives of the soldiers. Backstabbing and political ambition are primary goals, though Dax is an idealist - he cares for his men and says or does nothing as a means of promotion from his rank. The higher-ups are of different mindsets, and it is extraordinary to watch Kirk Douglas's blunt, sympathetic Dax, Adolphe Menjou's arrogant, pitiless General Broulard, and the cold, remorseless General Mireau brilliantly portrayed by George Macready commingle and argue over the reality of war's traumas and heartaches.

"Paths of Glory" is a tough, demanding work that generated a lot of controversy over its cynical presentation of how men of power handle their own men in the face of war. But there is beauty too, as evidently shown in the final shot where a German farm girl (Suzanne Christian, who became Mrs. Kubrick at that time) sings a sentimental song from the "Musical Memories of Germany" and causes the audience of soldiers to weep when they were initially jeering her. I also like what could be a throwaway moment where Private Arnaud (Joseph Turkel, who later appeared in "The Shining") describes how being shot down and killed instantly is preferable to being wounded. There is humanity in these men, these soldiers who fight in the trenches for the benefit of pleasing some higher-ranking officials and, of course, to win the war. Here is an anti-war film that sticks to its guns and shows, in the words of Ernest Hemingway, that war is a crime no matter how justified.

Matt Helm entry needs a wrecking ball

THE WRECKING CREW (1968)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

The Wrenchingly Awful Crew. This last Matt Helm entry is such a stilted, forced, bland and stupendously awful film that I am surprised it was even released in theatres. Dean Martin is the superspy but he seems so indifferent to the chaos of the story (something to do with the movement of gold bars) that, well, you kinda wish Dino would've passed on this and sang more songs with the Rat Pack at the Stardust.

The whole movie is meant to be a joke, a parody of James Bond, if only the cast was in on the joke. The late Sharon Tate is one of many women that bed Matt Helm, though she seems uncomfortable playing a supposed klutz of a spy. Nigel Green is the bad guy, though he seems almost as indifferent as everyone else in the movie. The fight scenes are idiotic (sorry Mr. Bruce Lee but the staging is flat), the sophisticated weapons include nothing more than a black sock that is hurled at Green's minions, a film camera that emits green fog (!), a briefcase that contains the parts to assemble a helicopter, and so on. To top it off, some of Dino's songs are heard at the oddest moments, ostensibly more of an intrusion than a helping hand to advance the nonexistent plot.

One curious note: I know this movie is a joke but I am curious about Green's sophisticated surveillance. He is in a control room in his house where he has a camera in every part of his estate, including areas where cameras couldn't possibly exist. For example, he keeps an eye on a train that contains the gold and can view it through his various monitors from many different angles, including several aerial shots, medium shots on the sides of the trains, etc. How does he get the aerial shots if he has no helicopters keeping track of the train? How come the boxcars don't seem to have any cameras attached to them? That's about the only humorous gag I can think of for this sad piece of horse dung known as "The Wrecking Crew."

A three-second kiss is still a kiss

NOTORIOUS (1946)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Of all of Alfred Hitchcock's love stories, "Notorious" is one of the most romantic and truly illuminating. Illumination is the key to the film's success. With a plot centering on Nazis and uranium, the heart of the film is really the electric chemistry between Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman, and a suspenseful final act that will leave you breathless with excitement.

"Notorious" begins with a fabulous shot of Ingrid Bergman as Alicia Huberman, who is having a party after learning of her father's conviction for Nazi spying. She tries to forget, and we notice the back of a stranger's head seated at the party but we don't who he is except perhaps Alicia's possible suitor. Later, she is drunk and recklessly drives with the man (Cary Grant), who turns out to be a CIA agent named Devlin. Devlin has a job for her, and she is reluctant to participate and is annoyed she did not get a speeding ticket. The job entails Alicia getting intimate with a former lover of hers, Sebastian (Claude Rains), who runs a spy ring and may be involved with hiding uranium in wine bottles (a substance used in making bombs). Eventually, Sebastian deeply falls in love with her and marries her. Devlin grows jealous, realizing he loves her. Unfortunately, Sebastian watches Alicia like a hawk, and Hitchcock is brilliant at showing that subjective sense of looks and stares as he does in the party sequence..

"Notorious" has a special degree of illumination provided by its lighting schemes, and by Bergman's iridescent beauty. Along with Catherine Denueve, Bergman is indeed one of the most beautiful women in film history and Hitchcock exploits that beauty to great effect. Whether she is seated at a cafe or in bed writhing with pain due to the effect of arsenic in her tea, she never looks less than glamorous.

Cary Grant is the straight man, and more subtle than in his other films - he is passive and grows jealous but it is his dialogue that speak great truths of his emotions. At one point, while hearing about the CIA's plans, he refers to another agent's bridge-playing wife as boring in contrast to Alicia's looseness and promiscuity. Devlin holds his emotions in check, acting stern and disapproving of Alicia and her immediate marriage.

Claude Rains is one of the finest most astute actors ever, and here he is also restrained - his looks and glances suggest everything. There is also the sense that he does care for Alicia...and perhaps is more trustworthy than Devlin even after learning her secret.

Hitchcock has a tremendous number of tricks up his sleeve, and some shots are astounding in their impact - they greatly help build tension and suspense. The three-minute kissing scene between Grant and Bergman is as sensual and sexually charged as any scene from today's steamy thrillers - what makes it so luscious is the interruption of the kisses and the embraces. At that time, the Hollywood Production Code would not allow for kisses to last longer than three seconds. This scene foreshadows the final moments from the bedroom to the staircase where Grant descends while helping the sickly Bergman - the spy ring and Sebastian watch. There is also a superb zoom-in shot from the top of the staircase to a close-up shot of Bergman's hand holding the key to the wine cellar where the uranium is hidden. The wine cellar sequence is also bewitching - Grant carefully removing bottles that obstruct the view of a wine schedule while one slips away and breaks revealing uranium particles - and it also builds to a great kissing scene. This film is definitely one of Hitchcock's prime examples of visual elegance.

"Notorious" is not as densely complex as "Vertigo" or "North By Northwest," but it is packed with suspense and thrills galore. And its emotionally romantic love story shows the Master knew how to deal with human relationships.

Smitten Hepburn in the Summer

SUMMERTIME (1955)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Katharine Hepburn was one of the most vigorous, attractive, sophisticated women to ever appear on the silver screen. She was also one of our most versatile actresses with a body of work that included "The Philadelphia Story," "Adam's Rib," "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" and, one of her last great roles, "On Golden Pond." "Summertime" is one of the most beautiful movies to ever take place in Venice: a luscious, delicate comedy-drama by director David Lean ("Dr. Zhivago"). For those of you who remember 1994's "Only You" - the sappy romantic comedy with Robert Downey Jr. set in Venice - this is far superior to that film.

Based on Arthur Laurents' play "The Time of the Cuckoo," Hepburn stars as the independent, lonely Jane Hudson who has just arrived in Venice: a secretary from Ohio who is looking for romance and adventure. She stays at the "Pensione Fiorini" hotel, converses with other fellow Americans such as the Yaeghers, an older couple, and an unknown artist (a very young Darren McGavin), and she spouts such Italian phrases as "bravo" and "prego" while filming every landmark she sees with her 8mm film camera. One sunny day at a cafe, Jane notices a handsome Italian gentleman staring at her - she is overcome with feelings but she resists them (She wants to be around people but somehow finds an inner peace when isolated). Eventually, she runs into him again at an antique store just before buying an 18th century red goblet. The gentleman's name is Renato de Rossi (Rosanno Brazzi), an antique store owner and, before you know it, they fall madly in love. Naturally, Jane discovers that Renato is married.

"Summertime" is a slight film compared to Lean's other works, such as "Dr. Zhivago" or the underrated "Ryan's Daughter," but it is superbly acted, well-written, and subtly directed. Hepburn manages to be likable, stubborn, fierce, and loving. Brazzi makes a perfect companion for Hepburn: romantic, charming and charismatic. Who can ever forget her her unforced and hysterical walk into the river while filming with her camera? You'll have a delightful time with the invigorating "Summertime" - it is more than a travelogue of Venice.

An existential punch to the gut

POINT BLANK (1967)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Richly textured with blazing images and oblique sounds, John Boorman's "Point Blank" might well be the type of movie David Lynch would've made back in 1967 had he been a director then. It is a souped-up, rough and tough noir picture of machismo crossed with surreal imaginings, mostly from seeing the world inside of the protagonist's mind that is Lee Marvin's Walker .

The story is very simple. Walker has participated in a bungled heist at Alcatraz that results in his friend, a mobster named Reese (John Vernon) shooting him several times and leaving him for dead, and escaping with Walker's wife. Walker miraculously survives his seemingly mortal wounds, swims across the river, and a year later, he exacts revenge on his friend and everyone else. He also wants his 93,000 dollars he was to receive from the heist. After Walker has beat and shot several people linked to this heist, he still can't get his money. Nobody will pay him. And when a moment arrives when it looks like Walker will receive his money, something goes awry.

After watching "Point Blank" I felt a little dismayed and disappointed with it, asking myself, "what on earth is this movie about other than a thief trying to get his money?" But it is also the kind of noir picture that sticks with you, and it helps that Lee Marvin, one of the best tough guys in cinema history, makes it all palatable and nuanced. Especially effective are the placement of flashbacks to a kinder, smitten Walker with his wife-to-be. Then are also recurring flashbacks to Walker seeing his friend Reese at a loud party in one of the most frenetic party sequences ever filmed, made all the more flashy for noticing how little we can actually hear their conversation until, bit by bit, it becomes clearer.

For those who have seen Steven Soderbergh's "The Limey," "Point Blank" is more than an inspiration or an homage, it is to some degree the same movie. Whereas Soderbergh's film ends with an emotional punch, Boorman's film is more an existentialist punch to the gut. "Point Blank" substitutes general murkiness for substance, though to be fair Walker lacks any real substance possibly by design, yet Lee Marvin packs in a lot of two-fisted excitement in the role and John Boorman's direction is most assured. Not my favorite modern noir but it is one of the best.