The
years of the 1940s following World War II exhibited a striking change in
Hollywood movies. The moods and world outlooks of post-war GIs and the people
they had left behind and to whom they returned were more reflective and
serious. Awareness of societal ills that had always been with us were now at
the forefront… and Hollywood stepped up to address this new American angst in
the form of a) what film historians call “social problem films” that tackled
issues such as alcoholism, drug addiction, anti-Semitism, racism, government
corruption, and other hitherto taboos of motion pictures, and b) film noir, the
gritty crime dramas that never sugar-coated anything and portrayed both men and
women—the femmes fatale—as hard-boiled, cynical, and paranoid.
Two
pictures were released in 1947 that tackled anti-Semitism with frank,
hard-hitting realism. One was Elia Kazan’s Gentleman’s Agreement, a more
passive investigation of anti-Semitism in America that won the Oscar for Best
Picture. Often overlooked today, however, is the other Best Picture nominee of
that year—the film noir crime drama, Crossfire, which examined the
subject in a more violent and edgy concoction. Directed by Edward Dmytryk, who
would just a year later be under investigation by the House Un-American
Activities Committee and ultimately become one of the infamously blacklisted
“Hollywood Ten,” Crossfire could very well be the more substantially
shocking movie of the two. It also appeared in theaters three months earlier.
Besides
the Best Picture nomination, Dmytryk was nominated for Best Director, the
script by John Paxton was up for Adapted Screenplay, and both Robert Ryan and
Gloria Grahame were nominated for Supporting Actor and Actress, respectively. Crossfire
was no throwaway B-movie film noir. It is both a film noir and a
social problem film!
Ironically,
the story was not supposed to be about anti-Semitism at all. The movie is based
on a novel, The Brick Foxhole, by Richard Brooks (yes, the same Richard
Brooks who went on to become a formidable screenwriter/director in the 50s,
60s, and 70s). The novel is about the murder of a homosexual—not a Jew! At the
time, there was no way the Hays Office (Production Code) would allow a film to
be made with this subject matter, so producer Adrian Scott and Dmytryk changed
the tale… and yet the film could really be about any “other” against whom
racist, bigoted, homophobic, or intolerant people might hate. As police captain
Finlay (Robert Young) says in the picture, “Hate is a loaded gun.” The murder
victim could have been homosexual, black, Asian, Irish, or whatever—and the
movie would have the same potency.
A
man named Joseph Samuels is found beaten to death in his apartment. We later
learn that the man was Jewish, which was the motivation for his killing. The
story unfolds that a group of GIs have been demobilized in Washington DC and
are waiting for either further orders or a discharge. They are all
disillusioned and restless. Sergeant Keeley (Robert Mitchum) is the world-weary
leader of the group, which consists of hot-headed and abrasive Montgomery
(Robert Ryan), sensitive and “lost” Mitchell (George Cooper), and hard-up-for-money
Bowers (Steve Brodie). Flashbacks reveal that Montgomery, Mitchell, and Bowers
met civilian Samuels (Sam Levene) and his girlfriend, Miss Lewis (Marlo Dwyer)
in a bar. Samuels empathized with Mitchell’s unhappiness and invited him to
come along to dinner with them. They stopped at his apartment first while Miss
Lewis went home to change. Montgomery and Bowers followed them, thinking that
the party had simply moved locations. Later, once Captain Finlay begins the
investigation, Mitchell has disappeared and has become the prime suspect. But
all is not what it seems.
This
is a tightly-wound, suspenseful picture presented in classic film noir style
(expressionistic lighting and photography, brutal characterizations, and plenty
of tough talk). The actors are all excellent, especially Young, who handles the
proceedings with calm, thoughtful deliberation. Ryan, in this early appearance,
established himself as a contender with a showy role that justifies the Oscar
nomination. Gloria Grahame, in a small role, portrays a jaded, no-nonsense bar
girl whom Mitchell befriends—she, too, displays the hallmarks of many of her
onscreen characterizations.
Warner
Archive’s new Blu-ray restoration looks terrific in its glorious black and
white. It comes with an audio commentary by film historians Alain Silver and
James Ursini, and there are audio interview excerpts with director Dmytryk. A
short featurette on the film’s making and impact is also a welcome supplement.
Crossfire
is
still relevant today—perhaps even more so than it was in 1947. The only thing
dated about it is the 1940s film noir filmmaking style—and what’s wrong with
that? Nothing! Highly recommended.
One
of the more controversial Best Picture Oscar winners is Cecil B. DeMille’s The
Greatest Show on Earth (it won the top prize for the year 1952, as well as
a trophy for Best Story—a category that was discontinued four years later). The
movie is often cited in pundits’ lists of “Worst Best Picture Oscar Winners,”
mainly because many film buffs believe that there were more deserving nominees
that year (such as High Noon or The Quiet Man, or even Singin’
in the Rain, which wasn’t even nominated!). The win for Greatest Show was
perhaps somewhat of an overdue honor for DeMille, who had been working in
Hollywood since the 1910s, was a hugely successful and popular director, and he
had never won a Best Picture Academy Award. In this case, then, why didn’t he
win Best Director (John Ford did for The Quiet Man)?
Controversy
aside, The Greatest Show on Earth is still spectacular entertainment and
worth 2-1/2 hours of a viewer’s time, especially with Paramount Present’s new
Blu-ray restoration that looks absolutely gorgeous. Steven Spielberg has often
pointed to Greatest Show as a landmark for him because he remembers it
as the first movie his parents ever took him to see, and he has placed nods to
it in some of his own features. It is grand, Hollywood epic-style spectacle,
much of which overshadows the rather melodramatic and soap opera plot going on
in the story. It must be said that the melodrama is often corny and eye-rolling
in its heightened angst. Furthermore, it’s a plot that probably couldn’t be
made in today’s social/political climate of #MeToo. But, hey, this is a movie
from 1952.
The
Ringling Brothers & Barnum & Bailey Circus was indeed known as “the
greatest show on earth” during its magnificent heyday decades of the early part
of the 20th Century to at least the 1980s, after which the circus began to have
PR problems and audience dwindling. Animal rights activists, especially, came
down hard on all circuses, and eventually the sensation became something of a
past glory of a bygone era.
When
DeMille set about making a motion picture about the circus, he made a deal with
Ringling Brothers & Barnum & Bailey Circus—then the biggest and best—to
be in the movie. Thus, there literally is a cast of thousands in the
film—all 1,400 of the circus employees appear in it, along with the select
Hollywood actors cast to play important roles. The story follows the day-to-day
running of a circus tour in an almost documentary-like fashion, complete with
DeMille himself narrating sections of the movie as we see crews assembling the
big top tent, loading/unloading equipment, performers rehearsing and dressing,
and the breakdown and travel after each stop on the road. This is surely the
best aspect of Greatest Show—it is a time capsule of what circus life
was really like in those halcyon years.
Brad
Braden (Charlton Heston, in an early screen performance) is the manager of the
traveling circus, and he is very much a “show must go on” type of guy who takes
no guff or excuses from anyone, even his on-again, off-again girlfriend,
trapeze artist Holly (Betty Hutton, who receives top billing on the film). In order
to keep the circus “in the black” and do a full tour, he is forced by the
corporate bosses to hire a big star for the center ring, and this comes in the
form of “The Great Sebastian” (Cornel Wilde), a ladies’ man and a fellow known
for trouble. Holly is hurt by being kicked out of the center ring to the first
ring, so she begins to make a play for Sebastian to make Brad jealous. In the
meantime, elephant act performer Angel (Gloria Grahame) also has eyes for Brad,
but she is the object of affection of not-so-nice elephant trainer Klaus (Lyle
Bettger). Then there is lovable Buttons the Clown (James Stewart, who is in
clown makeup through the entire movie and never reveals his clean face!), who
we learn is on the run from the law because of a mysterious crime in his past.
Added to all this are some gangsters led by “Mr. Henderson” (Lawrence Tierney)
who run crooked midway games, and one of his men plans to rob the circus of its
takings during a harrowing train holdup.
Thus,
there are love triangles and criminal shenanigans going on, but mostly the
movie is a visual documentation of the circus-going experience. We see many
acts in full, and there are numerous reaction shots of audience members (some
of whom are cameo appearances by celebrities like Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Danny
Thomas, and more).
Perhaps
the most impressive thing is that the actors learned how to do much of their
characters’ jobs in the circus. For example, Betty Hutton and Cornel Wilde
really did learn and perform, on camera, the trapeze acts. Whether or not the terribly
difficult ones are done by Hutton and Wilde (doubtful), the Hollywood PR
machine insisted that they did all their own stunts (unlikely). Nevertheless,
that’s really Gloria Grahame being picked up by the mouth of an elephant and
carried away as she lounges happily for the audience. James Stewart performs
silly slapstick routines with none other than the great Emmett Kelly and Lou
Jacobs, two of the greatest clown performers in circus history.
Paramount
Presents’ Blu-ray disk is impressive and a treat for the eyes. Unfortunately,
the only supplement is a 7-1/2-minute featurette about the movie narrated by
Leonard Maltin, which is fine as an “intro” to viewing the picture, but one
wishes that more documentary “making-of” material could have been included.
The
Greatest Show on Earth may not have been the Greatest Best Picture Oscar Winner,
but it is still a fun and colorful spectacle that captures a now long-lost
phenomenon.
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON (Released on March 30)
Most
folks today may be familiar with The Producers, the Broadway musical
comedy that ran for years, toured around the globe, and elicited laughter and
joy for audiences of all ages. There are likely less people today who have
experienced the original 1967 film upon which the successful musical is based.
For decades, though, the movie was all we had.
In
the mid-sixties, Mel Brooks was a successful television writer, having worked
on hilarious comedies with Sid Caesar, among other works, and later the
co-creator of Get Smart. Brooks then came up with what was first
intended to be a novel, then a play, and finally a screenplay called Springtime
for Hitler—an outrageous satire lampooning the Nazis. The Hollywood
producers to whom Brooks pitched the piece were appalled. No audience would accept
a “comedy†about Hitler. Fortunately, one producer, Sidney Glazier, got the
joke and agreed to take on the project. Brooks had never directed before, but
he convinced Glazier that the producer would save money if he allowed the
screenwriter himself to direct. Realizing he was taking a big chance already,
Glazier agreed on the condition that the title be changed. The script became The
Producers.
The
story concerns an unscrupulous has-been Broadway producer named Max Bialystock
(Zero Mostel) who seduces little old ladies to get them to “invest†in his
productions, which always fail. His accountant, Leo Bloom (Gene Wilder),
realizes that Bialystock would make more money with a flop than with a
successful show. The two men team up to produce the worst Broadway show ever
seen in New York. This odd couple buys the rights of a play called Springtime
for Hitler,written by neo-Nazi numbskull playwright Frank Liebkind
(Kenneth Mars). They hire the worst Broadway director ever, Roger De Bris
(Christopher Hewett), and cast the completely incompetent and spacey Lorenzo
St. DuBois (Dick Shawn), known as “L.S.D.†to his friends in the lead role as
Hitler. The producers are off and running.
The
movie had its premiere in Pittsburgh in late 1967 and was a disaster. The
audience didn’t get it. The studio, Embassy Pictures, wanted to pull the movie
and not release it. It was destined to be a flop that never even opened. Leave
it to Peter Sellers to come to the rescue. Sellers had originally been
considered for the part of Leo Bloom, but for some reason he was nowhere to be
found when the time came to officially cast the picture. Nevertheless, he saw a
screening of The Producers and published a review in Variety that
praised the movie. Embassy then had second thoughts, and the film opened for a national
run in March 1968 (thereby qualifying it for the ’68 Oscars).
The
Producers was
controversial at first. There were mixed reviews, including many big-name
critics who trashed the film. But others, like Sellers, saw the genius of the
comedy, and enthusiastically recommended it. Brooks’ flop became a hit, and
over the years grew to be a cult favorite that epitomized the type of movie for
which Brooks became known in the 1970s.
Granted,
looking back at The Producers today, a viewer may not be in for a
totally smooth ride. The film is indeed clunky and somewhat amateurishly directed.
The acting can be sometimes abrasive. More disconcerting are the moments of
politically incorrectness that were intentional—but funny—at the time… today,
however, they are not only politically incorrect but also possibly offensive
(not the Nazi stuff, but rather the blatant sexism and lampooning of homosexual
and trans characters). Nevertheless, this is classic Mel Brooks material, and
he has never been one to treat an audience with kid gloves.
For
the record, Brooks won the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay.
Rare British advertisement featuring Peter Sellers' praise for the film.
(Photo: Cinema Retro Archive)
Both
Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder are over the top and are mostly wonderfully manic
in their performances. Wilder, especially, displays a solid gold persona that
was new to the screen (he was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for
his portrayal). In fact, everyone in the movie chews the scenery, but the
ensemble fits with the outrageousness of the proceedings.
Kino
Lorber’s new Blu-ray restoration looks the best this reviewer has ever seen The
Producers on home video—much improved over the previous DVD release. There
is an informed audio commentary by filmmaker/historian Michael Schlesinger that
goes into the picture’s history and antics. Supplements are ported over from
previous home video releases: an hour-long “making of†documentary that is
quite good; an outtake sequence; a gallery of design sketches; a short video of
filmmaker Paul Mazursky reading Peter Sellers’ Variety review; a radio
spot; and theatrical trailers for this and other Kino Lorber releases.
The
Producers may
be a relic of its time, but it is gem that its fans will always adore. The Springtime
for Hitler production sequence is comedy gold and is worth the price of
admission. Mel Brooks would indeed become more accomplished as a filmmaker, but
there is no question that The Producers was the milestone that assured
him a career in feature films.
[Much
of this review is culled from a Cinema Retro 2018 review by the author
of the Kino Lorber DVD release.]
Tony
Zierra’s fascinating documentary that premiered at Cannes in 2017 (and was
released theatrically in 2018) is about an unsung hero in the lore of legendary
filmmaker Stanley Kubrick—Leon Vitali, who describes himself not as an
“assistant,†but as a “filmworker.â€
Vitali,
now in his seventies, began his career as an actor in the 1960s, appearing in
various British films and television programs. After being impressed with
Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and A Clockwork Orange, Vitali told a
friend, “I want to work for that guy.†He managed to get an audition for
Kubrick’s next picture, Barry Lyndon,
and landed the key role of Lord Bullingdon, the main antagonist of the film.
Vitali received much praise for his performance, but instead of continuing an
acting career, he made an extraordinary left turn. He asked Kubrick if he could
work behind the camera from then on.
Kubrick
grilled Vitali on his sincerity, and then he hired the actor as an additional
casting director for The Shining. Vitali’s
task was to go to America and find a little boy to play Danny in the classic
horror movie. The young actor turned out to be Danny Lloyd, who, as an adult,
appears in Filmworker as a talking
head. This is a treat for fans of the The Shining, for Lloyd, a private
person today, rarely emerges from his reclusiveness.
Throughout
the making of The Shining, Vitali
served as little Danny’s handler and guardian, and ultimately began to perform
more tasks for the demanding filmmaker. For the next twenty-plus years, Vitali
learned every aspect of the filmmaking business, especially the color
correction processes for film that led to his overseeing the restoration of
Kubrick’s pictures, and many other jobs. In short, he became an indispensable
ally and assistant. As one interviewee put it, Vitali became Kubrick’s
“right-hand man, along with the other hand, the legs, the shoulders, body…†(He
also played the mysterious, masked “Red Cloak†leader of the orgy sequence in Eyes Wide Shut.)
Filmworker takes the viewer
through Vitali’s years with Kubrick, commented upon by the likes of Ryan
O’Neal, Matthew Modine, Danny Lloyd, Lee Ermey, Marie Richardson, Stellan
Skarsgård, and others, plus film executives Julian
Senior, Brian Jamieson, Steve Southgate, and Vitali’s family. We learn a lot about
Kubrick’s process, as well as what kind of person
he was. While it’s well-known that the filmmaker was a perfectionist, few
realize that he was a genuinely warm, soft-spoken, animal-loving man.
Viewers
may wonder why Vitali committed so much of his life to Kubrick. As Vitali
demonstrates, the “maestro†could be intensely demanding and did not suffer
excuses. “You either care, or you don’t care,†was a mantra of Kubrick’s, and
Vitali adopted it for himself as well. In the end, we get a portrait of not only
what working for Kubrick was like, but of a man who went above and beyond what
most people would consider healthy devotion. That said, considering the mentor
was Kubrick, this was also a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to learn from and
serve an exceptional artist.
Kino
Lorber’s new pristine Blu-ray is a port-over from the previous DVD release, and
it is indeed an improvement. It comes with 5.1 Surround sound and 2.0 lossless
stereo , the theatrical trailer, and a short supplement Q&A with Vitali and
director Zierra on stage after a screening of the film.
Filmworker is a must for the
Stanley Kubrick fan, and, in general, for students and devotees of filmmaking.
