Columnists
Entries from September 2020
BY TODD GARBARINI
In
the history of cinema, it is a known fact that the producers and director of a
film all have their own opinions about what a finished film should be titled.
Movies generally use a working title which rarely ends up being used upon
release. Even the film’s own writer invariably believes that it is his/her
title that should be used with consideration given to no one else. One can only
wonder how Steven Spielberg’s E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (1982) would
have fared at the box office had it been marketed under its original title, A
Boy’s Life. Ridley Scott’s initially panned and now revered science fiction
masterpiece Blade Runner (1982), its title taken from a 1979 novella by
William S. Burroughs, would have found difficulty being displayed on movie
marquees had it gone by the jaw-breaking title of the 1968 Philip K. Dick novel
upon which it was based, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
The
Satanists was one of the
original titles considered for the film that would eventually be called Let’s
Scare Jessica to Death, a beautifully understated piece of filmmaking shot
in October 1970 in Connecticut and released in New York on Friday, August 27, 1971
two months prior to a rollout in suburban theatres and drive-ins and its
eventual ABC-TV premiere on Friday, March 11, 1977 before becoming a staple of
late-night television airings. The 1970s are a by-gone era which followed the
end of the studio system of contracts and obligations and gave way to films
that defined originality of thought and style, permitting both novice and
seasoned filmmakers the freedom to make the kinds of films that they wanted to for
distribution through major studios. This maneuver was driven by two factors: the
desire to make money and film studios not knowing what would bring in the
crowds.
Let’s
Scare Jessica to Death
was coined by executives at Paramount Pictures and the title’s aggressiveness
suggests far more action that the film actually delivers. Jessica is far
from a cinematic triumph. However, when it succeeds it is evocative of the
creepiness of Herk Harvey’s Carnival of Souls (1962) both in its use of
elliptical narrative storytelling and mood and also benefits from a thematic
touch befitting of an episode of Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone. The
titular heroine is portrayed by veteran actress Zohra Lampert of Splendor in
the Grass (1961) fame in a nuanced performance of a woman recently released
from a sanitarium (when was the last time you heard that word?). The
start of the film finds her motionless in a boat, her voiceover indicating to
the audience that something awful has happened. The film proceeds in flashback
with Jessica preparing for a quiet but charmed life in the country with her
husband Duncan (Barton Heyman who played Dr. Klein in 1973’s The Exorcist)
and their mutual friend Woody (Kevin O’Connor) in an immense old manse sporting
a turret. A brief stop at a cemetery finds Jessica hearing strange whispers
while garnering tombstone rubbings on tracing paper and later displaying them
in the room she shares with Duncan. Emily (Mariclare Costello) is an odd house
squatter coming on the heels of the Free Love Sixties, an itinerant musician
who befriends the new homeowners and encourages them to perform a séance during
which Jessica continues to hear voices in her head. They persuade Emily to stay
and she is thrilled. Unbeknownst to them, Emily has stayed for much longer than
any of them are aware, and her image and likeness is seen in an old framed
photograph Jessica finds in an afternoon sojourn into the largest attic I’ve
ever seen. A local antique store dealer informs them that the house used to
belong to Abigail Bishop, a woman who drowned in the lake near the house 90
years earlier. Disturbed by this information, Jessica begins to experience
things that make her question her sanity again. It isn’t long before we realize
that Emily has made a deep impression so-to-speak on the townsfolk who all
stand around with bandages around their necks, covering deep scratches.
Inspired
by the 1898 novella The Turn of the Screw by Henry James (which itself
inspired the wonderful 1961 Jack Clayton adaptation The Innocents with
Deborah Kerr), Jessica thrives on moments where the audience is forced
to ask themselves if what is happening is really happening, or if it’s only
happening in Jessica’s mind. The film benefits from a slow and deliberate build-up
of mood and atmosphere. Orville Stoeber provides a wonderfully creepy score
which, like Stephen Lawrence’s brilliant music for Alfred Sole’s masterful Communion/Alice,
Sweet Alice/Holy Terror (1977) is unfortunately still not available on a
soundtrack album. Cinematographer Robert M. Baldwin bathes the film frame in
autumn foliage and employs the use of slow camera moves to enhance the film’s
overall mood. The film is far too slow for today’s audiences, but for those
with a mindset for 1970s horror, Jessica fits the bill.
Jessica is one of those titles I have been
wanting to see in a much-needed home video upgrade. A bare-bones DVD was
released by Paramount Home Video in 2006 and now the amazing people at Scream
Factory (an imprint of Shout! Factory) have released the film on Blu-ray with a
considerably improved transfer. There is a welcome feature-length audio
commentary with producer Bill Badalato and director John Hancock, who is arguably
best known for the Robert De Niro vehicle Bang the Drum Slowly (1973). They
offer many memories about the making of the film, one of which is Mr. Hancock’s
recollection of lifting the voiceover device of Eleanor Lance (Julie Harris) in
Robert Wise’s The Haunting (1963) to make the audience identity more
with Jessica. The other extras include:
Art
Saved My Life: Orville Stoeber on Let’s Scare Jessica to Death – this runs 16:25 and consists of an
interview with the film’s music composer who describes growing up all over the
world and how his family influenced his musical impressions.
Scare
Tactics: Reflections on a Seventies Horror Classic – runs 23:44 and is an interview with author
and critic Kim Newman who explains why Jessica is his favorite horror
film.
She
Walks These Hills: Let’s Scare Jessica to Death Locations Then and Now – this runs 6:48 and takes us to the
First Church Cemetery in East Haddam, CT; the “Selden III†Hadlyme Ferry in
Chester, CT; the Pattaconk Reservoir in Chester, CT; the Bishop House in Old
Saybrook, which is beautiful but completely dilapidated, even more so than when
I visited it in 2006. I really wish that someone would buy it and restore it; and
Main Street and Maple Street in Chester, CT (Devoe Paints was still there in
2006, but gone now and the building is for rent).
Theatrical
trailer – a very creepy promo for the film that runs three minutes
Television
spot – this runs 53 seconds and, like the theatrical trailer, gives away much
of the plot while trying to be creepy.
Radio
spot – this is derived from the mini record that was dispatched to radio
stations to play over the air and runs 60 seconds. Creepy!
Thankfully,
the film’s creepy original key art has been reinstated for the cover of the
Blu-ray, unlike the 2006 DVD cover.
Jessica is a film that is bathed in moments of
eeriness and supernatural detachment thanks in part to screenwriter Lee
Kalcheim whose former student, film director Bryan Norton, tipped his hat to
the film by making the movie’s title the byline for his nifty short film Penny
Dreadful (2005).
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“WATCH
THE CLOCKâ€
By
Raymond Benson
Whether
he was acting as a producer or as a director, Stanley Kramer was always at the
forefront of social issues embedded within motion pictures that were ultimately
entertaining and popular. He was producer of many outstanding movies during the
early half of his career, and then went on to direct more high-profile
Hollywood “message pictures.â€
The
esteemed and beloved High Noon, an “anti-western†released in 1952, was
a production Kramer oversaw with his then associate Carl Foreman, who penned
the screenplay. In a much publicized and analyzed split, the two men “divorcedâ€
during production of the film, mainly because Foreman was called before the
House Un-American Activities Committee, admitted he had once been a member of
the Communist Party, and refused to name names. Before he could be blacklisted,
Foreman left the United States and moved to Britain. He agreed to have his name
removed from High Noon as Associate Producer; but he still received
credit for the screenplay, which may or may not have been based on a short
story called “The Tin Star,†by John W. Cunningham. (Kramer had purchased the
rights to the story because it had a similar premise, and he was likely
covering his bases.) Astonishingly, Foreman still received an Academy Award
nomination for his script, even when many of his writing colleagues in
Hollywood had to use “fronts†on their work, or they couldn’t get jobs at all.
Setting
aside all that drama, perhaps the real credit for the success of High Noon should
go to director Fred Zinnemann, who was the up and coming talent and future
two-time Oscar winner, and star Gary Cooper, who won the Oscar for Best
Actor for his performance as Will Kane, the retiring marshal of the small New
Mexico town of Hadleyville. The film also won for its dynamic and extremely
important editing (by Elmo Williams and Harry W. Gerstad) that gave audiences
the sense that they were viewing the suspenseful action in real time, and two
trophies for music—the score by Dimitri Tiomkin, and for the song by Tiomkin
and Ned Washington (“High Noon,†performed by Tex Ritter, although it is known
in popular circles as “Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin’â€). High Noon received
nominations not only for the Screenplay, but for Director Zinnemann and for
Best Picture.
Most
of you know the story. Marshal Kane (Cooper) has just gotten married to Amy
(Grace Kelly; never mind that she’s about 30 years younger than Cooper), when
he learns that bad man Frank Miller (Ian MacDonald) has been paroled and is on
his way to town to kill Kane. He will arrive on the noon train, and his three equally-bad
cohorts (Lee Van Cleef in his first screen appearance; Sheb Wooley, who years
later gave us the novelty song, “The Purple People Eaterâ€; and Robert J. Wilke)
are at the station waiting for him. Kane desperately attempts to round up
supporters to help him fight Miller and his gang, but no one in the town will step
up to support their marshal (the outstanding supporting cast includes Thomas
Mitchell, Lloyd Bridges, Lon Chaney, Katy Jurado, Otto Kruger, and Harry
Morgan). Cowards all. Even Amy leaves her new husband because he won’t run out
on his responsibility. Meanwhile, we are made aware of every clock in the town
as the ticking progresses closer to high noon. The pendulums swing, the big
hands move closer to 12, and the tension mounts. Kane is left alone to face the
killers…
Of
course, we all know now that High Noon is an allegory for the Hollywood
blacklist. It was Carl Foreman’s treatise on what was happening in Tinsel Town
at the time. The townspeople, who were the marshal’s friends, turn their backs
on him and leave him to “face the music†alone. John Wayne famously rejected
the role of Kane when it was first offered to him, and he went on the record,
along with director Howard Hawks, calling High Noon a “Commie picture.â€
Ironically, Gary Cooper was not in town when he was awarded his Oscar—and Wayne
accepted the trophy for his pal on the night of the ceremony.
Olive
Films’ spectacular Blu-ray is absolutely gorgeous in its glorious black and
white. It is a new 4K restoration that is crystal clear, giving one the
impression that the movie was made yesterday.
There
are nice supplements included. A piece on the editing of the film illustrates
how the ticking clocks are so important for the pace of the picture. Film
historian Michael Schlesinger enthusiastically presents a featurette on
producer Kramer. Blacklisted screenwriter Walter Bernstein and film historian
Larry Ceplair talk about the Hollywood blacklist and its relation to High
Noon. Anton Yelchin narrates a visual essay of rarely seen archival
elements on the production history of the film. Finally, there is an original
essay (on screen and in the enclosed booklet) by Sight & Sound editor
Nick James, along with the theatrical trailer.
High
Noon exists
on Blu-ray distributed by other companies, but the Olive Films presentation is
top-notch. A classic masterpiece is always worth an upgrade.
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“BOB
HOPE AND SILVER BELLSâ€
By
Raymond Benson
The
1940s and 1950s were Bob Hope’s prime decades, and many of his most popular—and
arguably “goodâ€â€”movies were made during these years. When he wasn’t teaming up
with Bing Crosby for the Road to… pictures, he was soloing in farces in
which he displayed his unquestionable talent in delivering one-liners with
impeccable timing, singing alone or with a partner (usually a female costar),
and sharing the “joke†with the audience through fourth wall breaking.
Hope
has several classic comedies in his filmography, but just as many or more that
might induce face-palming. Some are downright dumb. The Lemon Drop Kid,
from 1951, is one of the better ones, although it often slips into slapstick
silliness during its 91-minute runtime. This is due, in part, to the uncredited
direction of Frank Tashlin, who co-wrote the screenplay (with Edmund Hartmann
and Robert O’Brien). Tashlin worked for many years in cartoons, including the
Looney Tunes outfit for Warner Brothers, so his approach to comedy had a
similar sensibility. Sledgehammer comedic action, trick photography, and
gimmicks tend to populate Tashlin’s work. The credited director of Lemon
Drop is Sidney Lanfield, but Hollywood scuttlebutt asserts that Tashlin
finished the picture.
The
movie is based on Damon Runyon’s short story. “The Lemon Drop Kid†is Hope, of
course, and although we never know his real name, everyone calls him “Kid.†He
earned the moniker because he’s addicted to lemon drops, boxes of which he always
carries. Kid is a con-man and swindler who illegally touts horses at the track,
among other schemes. Unfortunately, he runs afoul with gangsters Moose Moran
and Oxford Charlie (Fred Clark and Lloyd Nolan, respectively). His
sometimes-girlfriend, Brainey (Marilyn Maxwell), is also a moll for Charlie,
but one senses that her heart is more in line with the Kid. When a con goes bad
and Moran loses money, he gives the Kid a deadline to come up with the dough he
lost (ten grand) or it’s curtains. The Kid then begins a series of questionable
money-making plots at Christmas time that involve a gang of ne’er-do-wells
(played by such character actors as William Frawley, Jay C. Flippen, Tor
Johnson, and others) dressed as Santa Claus, and an “old ladies home,†where
his friend Nellie (Jane Darwell) is trying to reside. One memorable set piece
in the final reel is Hope disguising himself as one of these old ladies and
performing in drag.
There
is much to admire, especially from the likes of the supporting cast, and Hope
is genuinely funny and winning in the picture (in some of his movies he can be
rather annoying, in this reviewer’s opinion). Perhaps the biggest legacy of The
Lemon Drop Kid is the introduction of the Christmas perennial classic song,
“Silver Bells†(by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans).
Kino
Lorber’s new Blu-ray release looks quite good in its 1920x1080p high definition
restoration. Alas, there are no supplements included with the disk.
If
you like Christmas movies with laughs, or are a Bob Hope aficionado, then The
Lemon Drop Kid is for you.
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“RETURN
I WILL TO OLD BRAZILâ€
By
Raymond Benson
The
fifth Bing Crosby and Bob Hope picture in the extremely popular Road to… series
begins over the main titles, appropriately, with a lively instrumental
rendition of the classic “Brazil,†a tune by Ary Barroso and Bob Russell.
Animated stick figures representing the leads (along with Dorothy Lamour, who
was the duo’s perennial co-star in all but the final Road title) dance a
samba and set the tone for another globe-hopping “exotic†comedy-adventure,
this time landing in Rio de Janeiro.
The
Road to… series began in 1940 with Road to Singapore, which teamed the dueling popular radio personalities
for the silver screen. Road to Rio continues the successful formula. Two
playboys (Crosby and Hope, whose character names change with each movie,
although their “characters†are always the same) find themselves traveling to
some exotic locale in order to either escape a woman, gangsters, or pursue some
con job, only to get mixed up in a farcical plot with an equally exotic woman
(always Lamour). There are a few songs performed by both men or solo or with
Lamour, comic hijinks (especially from Hope), and even some action and
adventure.
This
time around Crosby and Hope are big band musicians named, respectively, Scat
and “Hot Lips†(because Hope’s character plays trumpet). The movie begins
exactly like Road to Zanzibar—the boys are working in a traveling
carnival and accidentally cause a fire that burns down the outfit. The
organizers are out for blood, so they chase our hapless heroes to the Louisiana
pier, where they stowaway on a ship to Brazil. On the boat, they meet Lucia
(Lamour), a wealthy young woman who is controlled by her conniving Aunt
Catherine (Gale Sondergaard). Catherine wants to marry Lucia to her brother,
which somehow will transfer Lucia’s fortune to her because of some mysterious
“papers†(the MacGuffin of the plot; they are always called “the papers†and
become ludicrously significant, and yet no one knows their contents!). To get
Lucia to do her bidding, Catherine uses hypnotism (apparently a faddish plot
device in movies of the period). Scat and Hot Lips both fall in love with Lucia
and she falls in love with first one of them and then both—just like in all the
other Road to… movies. Ultimately, the goal is to rescue Lucia from the
aunt and her goons.
There
are funny bits, to be sure, but if one is watching the series in chronological
order, Road to Rio seems a little tired. It’s as if we’ve seen it all
before—which is probably intentional—but we can feel them reaching for laughs.
Two highlights are the a) the musical number with the Andrews Sisters, who have
a wonderful cameo; and b) the antics of the zany Wiere Brothers, Eastern
European comics patterned after the Three Stooges who, in this case, play
Brazilians. Look for Hope sidekick Jerry Colonna is another funny bit during
the climax of the movie (“Isn’t it exciting?†he asks the audience, breaking
the fourth wall).
Kino
Lorber’s new Blu-ray release looks good in its 1920x1080p restoration. Alas,
there are no supplements included save for trailers of other Kino Lorber
releases.
Road
to Rio is
for fans of the Crosby-Hope series, the actors, or musical-comedies in general.
The rest of the world will be amused for 100 minutes, after which they’ll
forget it or likely confuse it with other Road to… titles they may have
seen.
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