Reviews

Okay, when I chose to watch this movie, I knew it would be a typical 70's slasher show. I wasn't expecting all that much, but even with a low bar, it was a horrible experience.

Neville Brand plays Judd, a serial killer whose rationale for murder is unclear. Judd owns a seedy motel that, incomprehensibly, is recommended by the Sheriff and the housekeeper at the local bordello as a place for tourists to stay. Apparently, the fact that people disappear regularly has escaped these folks. At any rate, Judd's appetite for murder Iand Judd's crocodile's appetite for anything) is sated when one of Miss Hattie's hookers decides that doggie style isn't her style and is fired (imagine that on your resume), and is directed to the motel for shelter.

Shortly after this, a hapless family blunders onto the scene. While the man uses the restroom in the motel and Judd converses with his wife, their daughter and her little dog wander off. The dog soon becomes croc fodder, the daughter witnesses this and goes into shock and the couple decide it would be a good idea (!) to stay at the motel and calm the child down. Of course, the man then decides he's going to kill the croc and becomes the croc's dessert.

Of course, the woman and her child stay on. Judd decides the woman is his to keep, beats her senseless and chains her to his bed. Daugher once again witnesses all of this (can you say PTSD?) She hides under the house.

Enter Mel Ferrar's character and his daughter. They are both looking for an errant child who they learn was part of Miss Hattie's stable. Daughter navigates her way around town, picking up clues while Dad ends up as crocodile food.

There is, of course, a happy ending as daughter and sheriff rescue the little girl and the captive woman. In between we have some nudity as the character, Buck and his gal pal shack up at the motel for some afternoon delight, ending with Buck getting killed and gal pal running through the swamp to escape Judd and his scythe.

The plot - weak as tea made with a used bag. Characters - lacking in motivation and situational awareness throughout. The brightest spot in the film was Carolyn Jones as Miss Hattie. She sparkled as the charming madame whose bawdy house is regarded as a harmless diversion. But the three name actors in this flick all had to have had financial woes that drove them to take roles in this travesty.

The one thing that I found intriguing about this movie was its editorial slant. While many movies produced during the 1930s depicted the wealthy and powerful of the country as callous robber barons, this one presented the main character as having many noble and admirable traits, although he is misunderstood by many around him. Spencer Tracy's Tom Garner is a roustabout who rises - with both the assistance and motivation of his wife - to great weath and power. His friend, Henry, takes the less ambitious and risky route, attending business school. As Garner rises, he takes Henry up with him.

Tracy's character is impugned by Henry's wife for two reasons - 1) he has an affair that causes his wife to commit suicide, and 2) he uses outside security to "bust" a union strike, causing the deaths of 400+ people. Henry shows her the other side of both stories - that Garner himself wasn't responsible for the violence that ensued; his main concern was not letting his freight customers down, and 2) the affair had been engineered by the former owner of a short line railroad that Garner's enterprise had just purchased, who put his daughter up to "snagging" the old man as leverage to keep some power.

The overall concept in this film is that the wealthy and powerful have feet of clay - it doesn't make them intrisically evil, just human.

A House Is Not A Home is based on the autobiography of New York madam Polly Adler, and surprisingly, the story and the film make no effort to glamorize the world's oldest profession. It ends up being a novel twist on the old Hollywood story of "girl seeks fame and fortune but loses true love in the process," but it also depicts the hopelessness and drudgery of a prostitute's life.

The movie is clearly trying to be edgy in many places - there is frank discussion of rape, of drug abuse and of the slow erosion of self-esteem in the prostitutes that ultimately leads one to suicide. Polly's romantic relationship with a musician in most films would have been "happily ever after"; in this one, she waves goodbye on the advice of her bootlegger protege, played by Robert Taylor. He reminds her that "No matter where you live or what you do, you'll know what you are and so will he." The moral of the story is that despite the posh living, fancy dresses, high rolling associates and jewelry, she was in a prison of her own making thanks to her lifestyle choices and it wasn't one that made her very happy.

There is the subplot as well that involves Lucky Luciano (Cesar Romero) buying influence into the longshoreman's union by introducing the union boss (Broderick Crawford) to Polly and her girls.

Sadly, the movie itself wasn't as engaging as it could have been. Whoever translated the book into a screenplay failed to find a coherent story line, so the movie feels like a series of anecdotes strung together rather than a story with a beginning, middle and end. In addition, there isn't a lot of insight into what makes Polly Adler tick.

While it's true that this is not a "typical western" in the sense that the good guy wins, kisses the girl and rides off into the sunset, I don't believe it's a remarkable movie.

Firstly, the typecasting of actresses such as Joan Blondell and Gloria Graham is obvious - they appear to be rehashing the roles they played in Other Men's Women and Human Desire, respectively. Claude Akins is a psychotic alcoholic. He's lucid enough to know there is money involved in the scheme against Chuck Connors, but impaired enough to be controlled by the others in the gang for most of the movie.

Bill Bixby's character is merely odd - a foppish, sadistic gigolo who develops some sort of conscience in the end. There is no rationale for his breakdown or his self-mutilation.

Paul Fix does well as a double-crossing scoundrel who receives justice at the hands of Claude Akins. His actions are out of character, as he has not shown much in the way of initiative up to this point. He, as well as the others, have taken their marching orders from Michael Renne.

The book and original story may have had more depth, but the movie version seems shallow and frankly, quite lazy, in its attempt to create a character-driven drama. It leans more toward Soap Opera (or Rope Opera, if you prefer) with heavy doses of gratuitous violence.

The King of Comedy was billed as a "dark comedy," but it didn't reach the levels of absurdity needed to be genuinely comedic. The movie had tremendous potential to be either very funny or very suspenseful, but it maintained a much too moderate approach to be either.

The character of Hubert Pupkin was intended to be comedic; Pupkin instead was written and played as fairly likable and moreover, relatable. Yes, he's an adult living in his mother's basement (something that wasn't trendy in 1986) and yes, he has an elaborate fantasy life that motivates his actions, but there were moments in which many viewers could empathize with him. His repeated efforts to get his comedy routine heard by Jerry Langford, followed by the repeated brush-offs by Langford's staffers are very reminiscent of many job applicants' attempts to get an interview, only to be e-mailed a form letter stating "Although your credentials and accomplishments are admirable, we have chosen to pursue applicants who are better suited to the position...." The audience is led to both pity Pupkin for his lack of insight, but admire him for his persistence. Pupkin isn't so comedic when he looks like a great number of people in the audience who have succumbed to the popular message of "follow your heart.... follow your dreams..." without regard for the consequences.

The character of Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis) is sadly underdeveloped in the movie as well. The character isn't given a lot of lines, so there is no way the audience is led to either like him or hate him. Other than the "mob of fans" scene at the start of the movie and the interaction he has with the obnoxious woman on the telephone, we don't see Langford as being continually oppressed by the demands of a voracious audience. Langford is shown as attempting to be gracious to Pupkin and his other star-obsessed fan, Masha, both of whom take his polite responses as invitations. Even though he has little material with which to work, Jerry Lewis transitions from comedian to serious actor very well in this role.

The ending is also not all that satisfying. Pupkin gets his wish - to appear on Langford's program - by kidnapping Langford using a toy gun. He delivers his comedy routine, which is primarily a recitation of an abusive, dysfunctional childhood, to the incomprehensibly wild applause of the audience, and he is arrested. His fame ultimately comes not from his performance, but from the book he writes about kidnapping Jerry Langford and the media focus on that event. Pupkin is neither a hero, nor is he a villain.

All in all, The King of Comedy was unfulfilling. Had Pupkin been written to be a little more sinister, obsessive and driven, this would have been an excellent thriller. Had Pupkin been less likable and without the pathos, it would have leaned more toward the comedy it was intended to be. As it is, it merits the audience reaction it received when first released: "What was that we just watched?"

In many ways, the movie was ahead of its time. The theme of "fame at any price" is much more relevant in today's "Youtube" and "reality TV" environment, where people with no noticeable talent become "stars" through unabashed self-promotion (the Kardashians) or feats of incredible stupidity (the criminals who post their criminal behavior for all to see). With a little retooling, a talented screenwriter could redo this movie for today's audience and develop it to fulfill it's potential.

If you're looking for something with depth and layers of meaning, pass this one by, please! Start Cheering was designed to be completely preposterous screwball comedy, and it achieves that in spades.

Jimmy Durante plays the scheming, greedy Hollywood agent who sees his bread and butter disappearing to a T. Fast talking, always angling and in hot pursuit of his screen idol turned student, he collaborates with a very young Broderick Crawford, who plays the captain of the football team, to get Ted Crosley (Charles Starrett) expelled. The dean, however, loves the extra money flowing into the university, and begins not just to bend the rules, he turns them completely upside-down to keep Crosley at the school. Of course, there is a love interest who in the end, fixes everything so everybody is happy.

The film is kid- and grandma-friendly, with no overtly vulgar language or scenes (altho' the drunken co-ed party in Crosley's dorm room suggests - a drunken co-ed party in a college dorm!) And anyone who still receives notes from the Alumni Group at their former college 50 years after they've graduated understands the money driven Dean, as this is still the norm for universities. The car vs. Pullman train chase scene is classic, and slapstick comedy is in abundance. I admit not just to an occasional giggle, but to laughing out loud with this one.

It's just over an hour long, so watching it is a quick, guilty pleasure that can easily break up a long stretch of reality. Enjoy it for what it is!

The Night of the Hunter is a haunting movie that mixes characters out of a Faulkner novel with the chilling intrigue most closely associated with Alfred Hitchcock movies. Based on the real-life serial murders of a killer who preyed on women he met through lonely-hearts ads, the movie stars Robert Mitchum as a sinister and sexy con-artist and killer who masquerades as evangelical preacher Harry Powell to gain the trust of the community - and of his next victim.

He pursues Willa Harper (Shelly Winters), a young widow whose husband was Powell's cell mate after Powell was incarcerated for car theft. Powell learned that Ben Harper (Peter Graves) hid $10,000 he had stolen somewhere in their house. Powell intended to get it. He doesn't count on the fact that the only people who know where the money is hidden are Harper's two children, and they've promised their father they would never tell.

After attempting to tell the adults in their world that Powell's only interest was the money and being dismissed as liars, the children soon become the targets of Mitchum's manipulation and wrath. He kills Willa after she discovers her son was telling the truth, leaving the two children to deal with Mitchum and his evil intentions on their own.

Mitchum's oily, controlling and manipulative Reverend Powell is starkly contrasted by Lillian Gish's Mrs. Cooper, the person who ultimately takes in the children after they've run away, believes they are in danger and protects them from Powell. Both Powell and Cooper quote extensively from the Bible, but the difference in the way they apply scripture distinguishes evil from good, and hypocrisy from real faith. Powell uses Biblical passages to condemn all women, especially those who evince any hint of sexuality. Cooper, on the other hand, focuses on the biblical exhortations to love, taking in children who have been neglected, abandoned and born out of wedlock.

Powell is brought to justice in the end, but this is still a movie that can produce nightmares. The looming danger that Powell presents is a constant, and the suspense is intensified by the bleak landscapes that scream Depression-era poverty, the black and white cinematography and the haunting background music. It is a well crafted bit of film noir worth watching at least once.

Orson Welles was known for pushing the envelope, and the movie Compulsion is no exception to this. Produced in the 1950s, the movie is the only representation made of the Leopold and Loeb case that correctly infers the relationship between the two protagonists was more than just friendly; in fact, Leopold and Loeb were gay lovers. It showed remarkable attention to detail as well, in that the dynamic between the two could have been written by an FBI criminal profiler whose expertise is in the pathology of sociopath pairings.

Dean Stockwell does become the character the audience loves to hate - he drips of arrogance covered by a veneer of superficial charm. Dillman's character tends to be more pathetic in nature, but still not enough that the audience would see him as a "victim."

E. G. Marshall is true to form as the district attorney intent on bringing these two to justice, and Orson Welles plays the atheistic and fairly cynical attorney hired to defend the pair. The touch of black humor in the end is when he states that if he believed in a God, he would say that Divine intervention was responsible for Sid Brooks finding the incriminating glasses (they had been partially buried in the sand) and for the police being able to trace them to Steiner.

The movie is well worth viewing, especially for anyone who enjoys "true crime" stories - you'll get a charge comparing the real story to the way it is presented.

Perhaps it's because we now know the back story regarding the quality of Joan Crawford's parenting skills, but her performance in The Story of Esther Costello lacks credibility. The role of Mrs. Landi is one of an unfulfilled, wealthy woman whose maternal cravings are thwarted by an on-again, off-again relationship with a cheating husband (she doesn't divorce because of her Catholic faith.) Crawford is a little too domineering even in this film to pull off a role that demands a much softer side.

Despite the weakness in casting, the movie itself is highly engaging and retains the interest of the viewer from beginning to end without being too soap-operaish in nature. Rossano Brazzi plays his role of alcoholic gigolo very well, being both charming and disgusting at the same time. Heather Sears does an excellent job as Esther Costello. She has no dialogue until the end, but evokes a sense of vulnerability through her acting skills.

Other reviews have mentioned that Leonard Maltin found the film "unintentionally funny," and I have to concur with his observations. The aftereffect of Mr. Landi's drunken rape of young Esther is that she regains her eyesight and hearing (psychiatric opinion at the time was that a shock to the system would "cure" hysterical blindness / deafness). Not only that, but Esther is suddenly capable of delivering a speech after the Landis are killed. Quite a turnaround for a girl who was blind and deaf for years. This ending varies from that of the original story, but it is in keeping with the desire to create a movie with an uplifting and "happy" ending.