Eureka, I am free!

 THE 400 BLOWS (1959)
An Appreciation by Jerry Saravia

Kids' movies in America tend to be sentimental and very rarely anything but syrupy (Steven Soderbergh's "King of the Hill" was one of the few modern exceptions about a home alone child during the Depression). European movies about kids are a whole other ball of wax. 14-year-old Antoine Doinel, possibly the most famous French lad in cinematic history, is allowed to stream some tears when he is placed under arrest for stealing a typewriter but he is not looking to pull your heartstrings - he wants you to see how tough it is be a poor kid who despises school and possibly dislikes or disapproves of his parents. When he has a school assignment to write something off the cuff, he chooses to write about his grandfather while plagiarizing the writer Balzac (though I am sure he sees it as homage). It is a defining moment for him where he exclaims to himself "Eureka!"

Based on debuting director Francois Truffaut's own troubling childhood, "The 400 Blows" (the title literally translates to 400 dirty tricks) is a deeply evocative and realistic look at the life of a directionless, troubled 14-year-old kid who does nothing but get in trouble. Shot in the streets of Paris in the style of the French New Wave in astounding black-and-white, the look of Paris during the gloomy days or the noirish nights are fitting for this young kid who is slowly coming of age. If Antoine steals a "Summer of Monika" poster from a local cinema, it is no big deal. If he runs from gym practice or plays hooky, no big deal - all in a day's work. If he lights a candle in memory of Balzac in his bedroom, well there might be a fire that is put out by his parents (they celebrate preventing a tragedy by going to the movies). If he has to come up with excuses why he didn't attend school, he just might say his mother passed on. Antoine is a liar and a thief and yet you can't fully blame him. The teachers at school are physically abusive and it feels more like a prison term or detention than an inviting school. At home, he is in his bedroom and takes out the trash yet he'd rather sleep in a sleeping bag than an actual bed. The parents, one is a slightly apathetic stepfather (Albert Rémy) who wants Antoine to be disciplined, the other parent is his mother (Claire Maurier) who is having an affair from someone at the office (Antoine catches them in the act on the streets while playing hooky). The mother turns from cold and distant and tough to maternal and sweet (no doubt because she was caught sinning by her son). When Antoine is eventually sent to a juvenile detention facility, it looks no different than his school. So his parents want nothing to do with him, the abusive teachers and the police want nothing to do him. 

Jean-Pierre Leaud plays Antoine (and continued to play the role in Truffaut's subsequent films) and it is the most remarkably confident performance by a child I have ever seen (watch closely his interview with the therapist especially). He is absolutely spot-on playing a kid who longs for freedom and to rebel against the society that constrains him. Leaud still shows him having fun playing pranks and being a troublemaker yet he longs for a vast space to roam free. He loosens the restraints and is on the beach in the final famous freeze frame that ends the film. Is he happy or sad? Who knows, he is just free. Eureka! 

The Trail of Broken Men

 COWBOY (1958)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I sort of ran into this film by pure accident. I am lover of westerns and have enjoyed many from the 1950's and beyond so a western starring Glenn Ford and Jack Lemmon gave me goosebumps. It is a solidly fine western, a more realistic look at what it was really like being part of a cattle drive. "Cowboy" has got much to recommend though some of the characters are shopworn  - you may not mind it because a specific look and feel of the life of a cowboy is still splendidly told. 

When the name Reece is announced at a Chicago hotel, all the hotel employees do what they can to accommodate the cattle rustler (this includes changing rooms for the guests who have already settled in). The hotel desk clerk Frank (Jack Lemmon, in a curiously understated performance) is miffed that guests have to be relocated especially the highly regarded cattle baron Señor Vidal, and his daughter Maria (Anna Kashfi, severely underused) whom Frank is in love with. Naturally El Señor Vidal disapproves. But what about this Reece (Glenn Ford, in a typically forceful performance) and why all the fussiness over this man and his cattle hands? I can't say except he is a regular visitor though apparently he is not a very good poker player - he loses his winnings which he needs for the next cattle drive. Guess who wants to finance his next cattle drive and come along! Why none other than Frank himself who might know how to mount a horse but has no skills against handling horned cattle.

"Cowboy" shows the arduousness of the frontier west and the dangers one encounters like poisonous rattlesnakes. It also deals with the tough decisions to bury those who die on the trail due to snake bites or other factors and to move on because a job needs to be done. When Reece shows a coldness and remove from the death of a cattle hand, Frank is taken aback. Later we learn through Glenn Ford's extraordinarily subtle performance that his actions and emotional reserve need to change when Frank is slowly becoming as indifferent as Reece. 

Based on Frank Harris's semi-autobiographical novel "My Reminiscences as a Cowboy," "Cowboy" is often stirring and surefooted in its style, not excluding how beautifully shot it is from what looks like mostly outdoor shots (very few rear screen projection shots). One amazingly tantalizing shot in particular is when Frank meets Maria at a Guadalupe church shown in silhouette near dawn - John Ford would've killed for shots like that. Less successful is the inclusion of Reece trying to place a ring on a bull's horn as he rides his horse - this sequence goes on forever. Jack Lemmon would also not have been my first choice to play Frank - he is too modern an actor to play that role. A very fine western overall and watching Ford and Lemmon go at each other's necks is often riveting entertainment.

Clap your hands if you believe in fairies

 PETER PAN (1924)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Though I have not seen the 1953 adaptation of J.M. Barrie's fantastical creation in quite some time, "Peter Pan" that is, this 1924 version that was thought to be lost for years can stand on its own two flying feet as a lively, sometimes astonishing version with moments that soar and rekindle the innocence of being a child.

At first, I was a little thrown off course by "Peter Pan." In the opening sequence, we see someone obviously dressed as an oversized sheep dog giving a bath to the Darling children in the house (the dog is played by George Ali). The other kids, including the older Wendy (Mary Brian), are genuinely turned off by this dog who looks like a nightmarish canine with immobile scary eyes. Nevertheless, we do get to the good stuff when we meet the flying Peter Pan (played by a 17-year-old girl named Betty Bronson) who is trying to find his shadow. Wendy helps him stitch his shadow back on and accompanies him along with the two other Darling boys to Never Never Land. Yep, the land of high adventure that features nasty pirates, the dastardly Captain Hook, alligators, a Native American tribe (yes, the Redskins - don't forget this was 1924), mermaids on the beach, fairies and of course the one and only Tinkerbell who looks just like a firefly. She bares some jealousy towards Wendy and her interest in kissing Peter. Peter of course discovers kissing has more to do than sharing a thimble and shows his love by building Wendy a house complete with a chimney created from a hat (!), with the hopes that she will be mother to him and the Lost Boys. Wendy has a more romantic inclination in mind with the naive Peter.

For a silent film of that era (and there were many magical films during this period, the favorite fantasy of mine was "The Thief Of Bagdad" with Douglas Fairbanks, Sr.), "Peter Pan" is slow-going at first but it builds into a wondrous, marvelous film full of astonishing flying scenes (not sure how they did it) and an essential childlike sense of innocence - you kind of want to be a boy forever after meeting this joyful Pan. It is Betty Bronson who gives the most animated performance of the whole cast - the exuberance is felt every time she appears on screen. She stands proud when she has to, fights like a true swordsman, has poise and remarkable chemistry with Mary's Wendy. She encompasses everything we love about Peter Pan. "Peter Pan" is a treat for all ages.

Every man knows me as Shanghai Lily

 SHANGHAI EXPRESS (1932)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Few actresses in the 1930's could light up the screen like Marlene Dietrich, the glamorous woman who outshone them all. Not only was she a fine actress, she also had pizazz, wit and flamboyant energy. Never have all those qualities been shown with such eloquence as Dietrich showed in 1930's "The Blue Angel" and 1932's quixotic, progressive-in-its-attitude with occasional fireworks at every turn, "Shanghai Express." It is not a great film but it is a very expressive, excitingly told work by Josef von Sternberg who makes a train ride from Peking to Shanghai fabulously entertaining and intriguing.

Set during the time of the Chinese Civil War, we are introduced to a host of passengers of diverse backgrounds on this train ride. Dietrich is front and center as an infamous courtesan known as Shanghai Lily who also carries a reputation as the "White Flower of the Chinese Coast." She is dressed with the feathers and fringes of exotic birds that cover her head and her whole body - she is only missing a pair of wings. It is one of her first scenes as she enters the train station with many bystanders taking notice. She shares a compartment with an Asian courtesan, Hiu Fei (Anna May Wong) who is far more restrained in her mood and style yet just as exotic (even for a Pre-Code 1930's flick, the word "prostitute" is not uttered to describe either woman though it is as clear as day what their occupations are). Also on board the Shanghai Express (though it makes a few unscheduled stops) are an amoral half-white, half-Chinese Rebel leader named Chang (Warner Oland, in one of his umpteenth Asian roles); thickly-British-accented military doctor (Clive Brook) who once had a romantic fling with Lily, and for comic relief there is Louise Closser Hale as Mrs. Haggerty who is always looking after her dog and has a boarding house that would be occupied only by "respectable people." Shanghai Lily and other passengers would hardly qualify as respectable.

The film has a sweaty, tension-filled atmosphere to it, often complemented by silhouettes (Chinese soldiers sneaking into the train during an ambush) or characters hiding in the dark corners of a room (Wong's knife attack is truly startling). Even for a Pre-Code film there are some tough scenes such as an unseen rape and the aforementioned stabbing involving Wong's Hiu Fei who practically saves the train from sadistic evil. If I have any issues, it is with the stifling and uneven relationship between Lily and the military doctor - the actors don't exactly emit fireworks between each other and I grew impatient with their on-again, off-again romance built on betrayal and perhaps lust. Also odd is the relationship between Hiu Fei and Lily - one assumes they know each other well yet Lily tells the good doctor that she is no friend of hers. Huh? Depth is missing and some sense of history between the two - any implication, as other critics have alluded to, of some deeper, physical relationship between them is not even remotely suggested.

"Shanghai Express" still packs a wallop overall and manages to keep us intrigued with its stylish, chiaroscuro lighting (some of the most famous shots of Marlene Dietrich are in this film) and a suspenseful finish. Oh, and those less than respectable characters.

Chinese Princess's Fate is sealed

 JAVA HEAD (1934)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

It took a British production like Ealing Studios for a Chinese-American superstar Anna May Wong to lock lips with her leading man. Not that in Hollywood it would matter because Anna could not lock lips with anyone, no matter what race (thanks to anti-miscegenation laws). "Java Head" has her sole moment as an actress where she got to kiss her leading man. Thankfully that is not all that works because 3/4 of the film works swiftly enough until we are treated to a problematic ending that defined most of Anna May's early films. 

Java Head is the name of the house owned by a wealthy Bristol shipping magnate named Jeremy Ammidon (Edmund Gwenn, perfectly cast who most would later remember as Santa in "Miracle on 34th St."), a man who is having heart issues and sees his two sons are gunning for new implementations in their company like switching to steam ships. John Loder is Gerritt Ammidon, who lives for seafaring adventures and traveling to exotic locales like China. When he returns to Bristol after a year and a half voyage, he arrives married to a Manchu Princess named Taou Yuen  (Anna May Wong) much to the consternation of his family and everyone in town, including churchgoers. Gerritt is also aware that he may be in love with another woman, the lily-white Nettie (Elizabeth Allan) who has a far too domineering religious father. Will Gerritt choose Nettie despite having married Tauo (her name translates as Peach Garden)? 

"Java Head" is a melodramatic and tragic love story yet it has a couple of relationships that are awkwardly handled. Loder shows he is in love with Taou, far more than Nettie, yet he does an about-face that is so abruptly written that it never convinces. Same with the tragic ending that doesn't seem to affect anyone at all, excluding George Cuzon's Englishman Dunsack who feels more Chinese than English, and leaves the viewer cold. Despite the unusual kind of relationship depicted and the racist overtones as evidenced by people's observations of the Chinese princess, "Java Head" gets crushed by a problematic ending that says more about the times than anything fitting into a solid narrative. Still, the film is a treat to see for its cast (early performance by Ralph Richardson as Gerritt's brother) and for Anna's flamboyant dresses and her heavenly presence that shatters almost everyone else on screen.

Insane King of the River

 ISLAND OF LOST MEN (1939)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

There is something fundamentally creepy about J. Carrol Naish as a half-Asian slave labor owner on a trading post in the jungle north of Singapore. His character's name is Gregory Prin and he is both ostentatious, insane, suave and prim and proper in appearance and completely amoral. The fact that he is greedy and treats his workers as subhumans doesn't begin to describe his persona - he has also stolen a substantial amount of money from a Chinese general! Guess who is coming to collect? Why none other than Anna May Wong as the general's daughter and Prin is keeping her father prisoner. 

Most of "Island of Lost Men" is atmospheric in stupendous black and white with sharp silhouettes and its over-the-top demeanor in terms of style matches Naish's performance. Naish is the star of the show, stealing every scene (even from Anna May Wong who is more passive than usual) with unrepentant glee (it must have been stipulated in his contract). Anthony Quinn also plays an Asian, in this case a slave working for Prin who is actually a secret agent - he is also Anna's lover! Broderick Crawford is fantastically colorful and memorably slimy as an American named Tex who blackmails and manipulates to his heart's content - he wants that money for himself. Tex's final scene doesn't make much sense but neither does most of "Island of Lost Men." 

The film is a curious noir-jungle-swamp tale that includes some oddities (like the monkey who can pinpoint danger when convenient) yet it never is coherent in its overall approach ("Island" is an apparently loose remake of 1933's "White Woman.") When the few good guys survive by leaving this jungle unscathed with a boat full of gas, there are no reaction shots from the survivors - just merely a glimpse of the boat fading to the Paramount Pictures logo. The whole thing is a shambles but a sporadically diverting shambles nonetheless.

Kubrick's Fatalistic Heist Thriller

THE KILLING (1956)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Stanley Kubrick's heist drama "The Killing" is one of the finest noir films of the 1950's, a film so deliberately wire-tight that it will leave exhausted and exhilarated. Its one of the most tense thrillers of all time, and likely to leave you gasping for air after it is all over.

The film introduces us immediately to a host of characters, all involved in a big-time upcoming heist of a racetrack. Kubrick introduces the device of the omniscient narrator, a sort of "Dragnet"-like voice-over that is essential in understanding and following the structure of the story, particularly the time shifts in "Rashomon" style, atypical for that time. The narrator also comments on the actions of the characters, their timed schedules and documentary-like shot scenes of their initial preparations an

d confrontations with others while planning and partaking in this heist.

Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden) is the leader of this heist, a witless though direct and thorough professional thief and ex-con. He is ready to rob San Francisco's Bay Meadows Race Track of a cool two million dollars. This prodigious amount of money is to be split up between Clay and a crew that includes a former Greek wrestler and chess player, Maurice (Kola Kwarian); a psychopathic sharpshooter with a thick accent of some kind, Nikki (Tim Carey); a patrolman deep in debt (Ted de Corsia); a wimpy track cashier, George (Elisha Cook, Jr.); a track bartender, Mike O'Reilly (Joe Sawyer); and a wise old drunk, Unger (J.C. Flippen) - the latter has a touchingly real scene where Unger admits to Clay that he sees him as his own son. It is a motley crew to be sure, and the narrator makes it clear from the outset that this will be a botched, messy robbery, which they often are in the movies anyway.

Kubrick was already beginning to show a smooth handling with his actors. Hayden says his lines with such dexterity and a fast-paced alertness that you must listen closely to keep up with him, as was the case later with Hayden's similar role in Kubrick's "Dr. Strangelove." He is tall, commanding, and takes no prisoners. Elisha Cook, Jr. has many great scenes, a handful of them are with his conniving wife, Sherry (played by the fabulous Marie Windsor). Their relationship shows a genuine love-hate bond where money is the driving issue, and there are the customary put-downs of her husband's behavior by Sherry (You've got a hole in your head.")

I also enjoyed the scenes between the track bartender, Mike, and his invalid wife whom he promises to take better care of. All these scenes indicate not only the level of financial desperation in these men but also how far they are willing to go to protect their families. In the case of the stocky cop, his needs are to pay off a loan shark. The cashier George simply wants to give his wife a better life, and is thus dismayed to learn that money is all she cares about.

"The Killing" has many twists and turns, and slowly the machinations of the plot become tighter and unfold faster once they approach the climactic robbery itself. We know the planned robbery will go wrong, but the steadfast pacing and controlled tension makes it amazingly tense to watch. The narrator knows what will happen and so do we, and part of the pleasure of the film is seeing the racetrack robbery from different perspectives. This was all unusual for its time, and led the way to Tarantino's own pulp stories, particularly "Reservoir Dogs," its most direct influence.

There are so many great scenes and dialogue of such color and distinction that this film bears close relation with the classic noir "Double Indemnity" (Example: "You've got a big dollar sign where others have a heart.") "The Killing" is simply a huge improvement over Kubrick's former noir tale "Killer's Kiss." The music by Gerald Fried tightens the narrative screws and keeps us in suspense. The performances are extraordinary (including Vince Edwards as another small-time hood). The camerawork is astoundingly good (shot by Lucien Ballard, who used the widest camera lens at the time, a 25mm, for heightened reality). "The Killing" is high on my list of the most fatalistic of all noir tales, guaranteed to keep your stomach in knots from start to finish.