Reviews

John Huston has the distinction of driving at least two writers so crazy working with him that they wrote books about the experience, seemingly to expedite demons.

Ray Bradbury wrote "Green Shadows, White Whale" after working on "Moby Dick" and Peter Viertel wrote, "White Hunter, Black Heart" based on his time working on "The African Queen". Filmed in Africa in harsh conditions, the shooting of the film became secondary to director John Huston's quest to shoot an African elephant.

Viertel fictionalised the events to a degree. John Houston's alter ego became John Wilson and Viertel became Pete Verrill, while "The African Queen" morphed into "The African Trader"

Although Eastwood never met Huston, he almost seems to be channelling him in this film of the novel, which he also directed.

For anyone who loves movies this is a gem sitting somewhere on the list of box office failures. It was one of Clint's least successful films,

Anyway the audience that didn't go missed possibly Clint Eastwood's best performance. And it is a performance. Where many were happy to see the familiar Clint persona in film after film, here he submerged himself in a completely different character.

He captured the challenging old filmmaker's unique mannerisms. Fortunately for Clint, the Huston style was in evidence in his many roles as an actor. I'll bet Clint ran Preminger's "The Cardinal" a few times where every Huston mood was on display as he gave life to Cardinal Glennon.

Like Huston, Clint didn't spare himself or the crew and took them to fabulous locations in Africa, other scenes were shot in impressive, stately homes in Britain.

But the most intriguing aspect of the story is what one must presume was Viertel's take on John Huston's philosophies on everything. Some seem outrageous, but delivered with great wit as Eastwood captures Houston's distinctive cadence and his power to make everything he said sound important.

Interestingly, Huston actually made a film about the saving of the African elephant, "The Roots of Heaven", but he crammed it full of annoying, eccentric characters; it wasn't one of his masterpieces.

Although some in Hollywood felt he had stabbed Huston in the back with his book, according to one article, Viertel said they actually remained friends. Huston amazingly gave the book a release before he'd even read it. When Huston did read the manuscript he suggested a more dramatic ending that, in Viertel's words, "...would have made his character even less redeemable in the eyes of readers".

Huston, who once provided the voice of God in one of his films, tested people; he seemed to want to see what made them tick. He admired "guts" and found ways to discover if those around him had any. Many of his films, which include some of my all time favourites, explore the theme. "White Hunter, Black Heart" captures that confronting spirit beautifully.

Although I don't think the makers of "To Hell and Back" set out to glorify war, they did sanitise it. Audie Murphy thought so, apparently he told the guy who helped him write the book that the film, "Missed by miles". Still, no 1955 movie could recreate what flying metal can do to human flesh. However you don't have to read far into Audie's book to learn that he saw terrible things.

This isn't a routine war film of the 1950s; the fact that Audie was in it, recreating what he did, stopped it from ever being routine. The battle scenes are well staged, if not entirely accurate, although it seems the filmmakers toned down much of what he did because they thought it would be too unbelievable; too Hollywood.

His citations online reveal what an extraordinary soldier he was. The film is structured differently to the book, featuring more of his early life; it bogs down in the forced, artless studio scenes of the boys on leave and in la poursuite de l'amour.

Audie was reluctant to make the film, but when he did he made sure that he was seen to be in the company of brave, highly motivated soldiers.

Those men would attack the enemy on their own initiative; the sort of soldiers a general hopes he has at the sharp end when he sticks a pin in the map. Audie once said that his best friend Lattie Tipton, Brandon in both book and film, was the bravest man he ever knew.

I saw "To Hell and Back" with my Dad in 1955. Later we saw "The Red Badge of Courage" (actually made first), where Audie's character initially runs away from battle. Audie made an impression. Later I read "To Hell and Back" and also Don Graham's biography of Audie where his psyche was explored from every angle, analysing the effects his upbringing and the war had on the rest of his life.

Graham found other sources detailing Audie's lone scouting missions and stalking of snipers not featured in the film. He related events that show that even after the war, Audie was a dangerous man to cross. Although not one of his epic battlefield encounters, one story demonstrated how Audie never flinched when he felt something needed doing.

Audie was at a Hollywood party with his wife when actor and notorious brawler, Lawrence Tierney, was drunk and using bad language. Audie went up to the larger Tierney a couple of times and asked him to stop, but Tierney continued his behaviour. Finally Audie approached Tierney again saying that he had warned him twice and now told him to leave the party. Looking into Audie's eyes, Tierney, no doubt sensing imminent disaster, turned and left the party.

Audie was a complex man with a platoon's worth of contradictions. However seeing him in his movies you can't help wondering how this seemingly quiet, polite man did the things shown in "To Hell and Back". In fact, the film only scratched the surface.

For those that only know the more recent Bond films, going back 60 years to visit the beginnings of James Bond in cinema is like visiting Olduvai Gorge in Kenya searching for early man. We find something instantly recognisable, but not the species we know today. "Dr. No" with Sean Connery and those clunky sets with big knobs and dials that look like bushfire warning signs are a long way from the CGI spectaculars of "Skyfall" or "No Time to Die" with Daniel Craig.

But how right was Sean Connery for this first film made fairly faithfully from Ian Fleming's novel? Would the species have survived if he hadn't kicked it off?

"Dr. No" has two of the most iconic scenes in Bond films. One happens early as Bond introduces himself in Le Cercle Cassino, "Bond, James Bond". The moment the camera lifts to reveal Sean Connery in his tux, you know James Bond has arrived.

The other scene is half-way through when Honey Ryder (Ursula Andress) enters the movie, rising from the sea.

Although Bond's introduction was the creation of the filmmakers, Honey Ryder's arrival was very much Fleming. Even allowing her a bikini (she's naked in the novel) and her dubbed voice, it's still the most memorable entry by a woman in any Bond movie. Here's part of Fleming's description of Honey, "Her hair was ash blonde. The skin was a very light uniform café au lait with the sheen of dull satin. The gentle curve of the backbone was deeply indented, suggesting more powerful muscles than is usual in a woman". It's as though Honey stepped straight from the page to the screen.

What did Fleming think of her performance? He was so taken with Ursula that he included her in his 1963 novel "On Her Majesty's Secret Service" when Blofeld's assistant points out the actress, Ursula Andress, to Bond.

The character of James Bond is a combination of sexiness, charm, wit, style, mystery and a sense of danger. Each of the Bonds: Lazenby, Moore, Dalton, Brosnan and Craig had some of those qualities, but Connery had them all.

As for a sense of danger, Michael Caine in one of his books related how Connery and he were in a club when a bunch of yobs behind them heckled some girls on stage. When asked to tone it down they gave the boys a gobfull, so Connery got up and flattened all four before Michael had hardly risen from his chair. Connery's sense of danger was built in.

Bond taking down Dr. No's undersea facility doesn't compare to the epics to come, but the enjoyment of "Dr. No" is in watching Connery own the role from the get-go, the Jamaican location and Ursula Andress showing how to just about steal a movie.

In regards to the actors that have played Bond since, it may not necessarily be a case of survival of the fittest.

I think "Ghandi" is a compelling movie experience and an ambitious one. The life of Mahatma Ghandi as he amazed the world with his unique charisma and the power of non-violent protest set against a backdrop of often-brutal historic events.

I am not Indian and have never been to India, although I do converse with Indians from time to time. That's usually when they are trying to reconnect me to the World Wide Web by guiding me through the process of inserting a straightened paper clip into a tiny hole in my modem - before we discover it was an outage anyway.

Mind you, I have never asked them what they think of the movie "Ghandi". The film is in English and seems made for a broad audience although it was mainly filmed in India. I was interested enough to Google what Indians think of the film and was surprised at the response.

Generally it seems highly regarded while acknowledging that only so much could be covered in even a 3-hour plus movie. One response in particular was fascinating.

A commentator revealed that when he was a child "Ghandi" was one of the movies that was shown numerous times on India's national television; watching Gandhi was a part of every major national holiday, a bit like the way "Love Actually" turns up around Christmas in Australia.

A couple questioned the casting of Englishman Ben Kingsley as Ghandi, but most did not, his father was Indian after all.

But this is a magnificently made movie in anyone's language with a showstopping performance by Kingsley as Ghandi. It shows that Richard Attenborough had learned much about filling a big historic canvas. He had two other epics under his belt by then. "Young Winston" was a spectacular and witty take on Winston Churchill's early life and "A Bridge Too Far" emulated the portmanteau style of "The Longest Day" in depicting the WW2 Battle of Arnhem. However I felt both of those suffered from too modern an approach to the cinematography with plenty of zoom and deep focus, which failed to fully achieve a feeling for the period, which we have receive from historic photos and old film.

Not so in "Ghandi". Attenborough keeps his camera comparatively still, adding power to a number of sweeping set pieces. The film also contrasts the simplicity of Ghandi's lifestyle with the richness of the palaces and residences of those in power. Great score too, a fusion of orchestral and Indian music.

Many of Richard Attenborough's British acting buddies received gigs in the film as the ruling British elites. Their performances show the stiff upper lips replaced with looks of dismay as they realise this almost wizened little man in a dhoti is playing a key part in removing India from their control.

Each time I see "Ghandi" the more I find to admire. Artists are lucky if they achieve a masterpiece in their careers, but this was definitely one for Richard Attenborough.

It's not just that this film is full of fireworks; it's more like an explosion in a fireworks factory.

Mind you, the special effects are awesome. But the film starts at a breakneck pace and doesn't let up. Despite its success, I feel there are problems.

Big theme though, the battle between Heaven and Hell for the soul of man; it kept the Bible a best-seller for thousands of years.

Keanu Reeves is John Constantine, an exorcist with attitude able to travel between Earth and Hell interacting with half-angels and half-demons as they invade the "Human Plane". This is married to a plot involving L. A. P. D. Detective Angela Dodson (Rachel Weisz) who wants Constantine to investigate her twin sister Isabel's death, an apparent suicide, and now ineligible for a ticket to Heaven - like Constantine himself. Constantine has had a reprieve from going straight to Hell, but his epic smoking and nasty cough are likely to see him heading there before long.

I think the transition from graphic novel to film just pushed the filmmakers away from a more considered build up. An illustrated story, unlike a novel, has to have movement from the get-go; different shaped panels, unexpected angles and spectacular action. Graphic novels don't just do static frames of talking heads and text-heavy dialogue balloons.

I have no problem with graphic novels. I'm an artist and part of the reason I became one had to do with a love of comics. Back in the day the closest thing to graphic novels was Classics Illustrated, but there were scores of other publications with brilliant artists demonstrating how a whole world could be brought to life with a 00 sable brush, a bottle of ink and a sheet of Bristol board.

Now we have graphic novels and although some artists use digital tools it's still the marriage of art and story. Maybe Michelangelo would have tried his hand at one if he were around today, although he did sort of create one on the ceiling of the Sistine chapel.

Pacing for film is different. There's a lot of story in "Constantine" and there are just too many characters going through torture and redemption. A movie where all the characters are either eccentric or over-the-top makes for heavy going. Only Rachel Weisz's character seems remotely "normal".

Val Lewton, who made moody, effective horror movies without the budget and the effects of "Constantine", believed that the true test of a horror movie was to try the story with all the horror removed to see if it still worked. That may have been a useful tip for the makers of "Constantine".

As far as an adaption of George Orwell's novel is concerned, I think Michael Radford's 1984 film nailed it.

It was needed to dull the memory of the strident, 1956 version with Edmund Obrien, which mouthed many of the words, but missed the ambience of Orwell's work. Mind you the credits for that earlier film did state that it was freely adapted from the novel, but Orwell had died by then, and couldn't sue the filmmakers.

Apart from the look and the visual approach, a lot of the power of Radford's 1984 version is in the casting. After seeing John Hurt in the role, with that weary look, smoking the stubs of his Victory cigarettes despite a hacking cough, it's hard to envisage Winston Smith any other way.

Susanna Hamilton as Julia with those amazing features that hold the shadows in deep-set eyes and prominent cheekbones gave a startling performance that helped make the film so confronting. But she also seems the only adjusted character. Other than during "The Two-Minutes Hate", nearly everyone else seems low-key and depressed.

Then there is Richard Burton as O'Brien, Winston's nemesis, torturer, mentor and saviour all in one. It was his last movie. He wasn't the first choice. He had recently been named Hollywood's worst actor in "The Golden Turkey Awards", but this performance was way above all that. He died not long after; it was a good one to go out on.

George Orwell could have written a work of non-fiction espousing his philosophies on the manipulation of language and history, and how society can be controlled; it may have gained an audience. Instead he wove his ideas through this amazing futuristic story where his vivid characters bring his words to life in a totalitarian nightmare. Seven decades later, the book has never been out of print. It's hard to overestimate its impact. "Orwellian" has only meant one thing since.

Those on the Left think he was warning about the extreme Right, those on the Right think the warning was about the hard Left, but he was warning about both; totalitarianism pure and simple.

The two-way TV screens that may not have been possible when the book was written or even when Radford's film was made are more than possible now. Mind you, if George had got a whiff of the control the digital world would be capable of in the future, he may have been moved to write a sequel.

George had experienced colonialism, he had seen war and been wounded, and he knew how power can corrupt, He also knew poverty. His experiences went into 1984, and his writing is absolutely compelling. The passage where Winston Smith steals the food from his mother is harrowing, and who could stop reading as O'Brien clicks open the first door on the rat cage.

The novel has a unique place in world literature, and Radford's film with its muted colours, contrasting Dominic Muldowney and Eurythmics' soundtracks along with that inspired cast did it justice.

I was at school when Hollywood released those huge epics in the 50s and 60s to halt our hypnotic attraction to TV, and herd us back into the cinemas.

I loved them, now they are nostalgic, guilty pleasures, but I was imprinted with them like future generations would be with "Star Wars" or "Marvel Movies".

I saw them all starting with "Demetrius and the Gladiators" then "The Vikings", "Ben Hur", "Spartacus", "King of Kings", right up to "Cleopatra" and "The fall of the Roman Empire", which went an asp and a toga too far, and blew money no imperial tax collector could ever recoup. It was over.

In 1961 came "El Cid" Even today it has power. "Game of Thrones" and historical mini-series have replaced those movies, but none have out-chiselled and out-dimpled Charlton and Kirk.

The story of Spain's greatest hero is complex 11th Century history; it's Christians vs Muslims, but there were tricky alliances and treachery all round. Rising above it all, Charlton Heston as El Cid, looked powerful wielding "Tizona", his two-handed sword.

You have to admire the screenwriters that carved out the screenplay. Eventually they just thought "The Cid" is our guy and we'll just make him sort of a superhero that can take down 13 dudes single-handed and get him interacting with Sophia Loren's Chimene, the hottest bodice on the Iberian Peninsular. Throw in a crashing joust, flags, castles, a battle and a memorable ending and we've got a movie.

Every scene is beautifully composed. Not all filmmakers could deal with widescreen, but Anthony Mann and his cinematographer sure could.

Visually, the horizontals were mostly below the halfway mark: crowds, hills, buildings, a floor or a deep shadow. Above that tower the verticals; columns and archways, trees, or the sky simply dominating the top half. You could just about place a picture frame around any image from "El Cid".

Which actors could stand out against that? Heston and Loren were perfect. With larger-than-life features, wide cheekbones, Heston's shoulders and Sophia's almond eyes and full lips, they seem sculptural when they clinch. As time passes, Charlton sports a grey-flecked beard and a designer scar; it adds to the effect.

The dialogue sounds important, but there isn't a light touch anywhere. Look at what Ustinov did for "Spartacus" or Hugh Griffith did for "Ben Hur". They had the guy, Frank Thring playing an Emir, but they didn't cut him loose. He could chew scenery even Charles Laughton couldn't digest. Remember his Herod in "King of Kings"? "Dance for me Salome".

Then there is Miklos Rozsa's score; his music drives the action. He created a rich sound incorporating Spanish music. It's symphonic movie magic that was soon to depart Hollywood, until John Williams showed how much we missed it with his music for "Star Wars".

The film reminds me of those paintings of classic historical scenes that usually take up the whole wall of an art gallery. You are just amazed at the technical mastery in the detail, the backgrounds and the beautifully rendered figures in the foreground. Too massive to ignore, like them, "El Cid" has a magnificent, monumental quality.

Before commenting on the rest of the film, I want draw attention to something wonderful, the film's score by Dimitri Tiomkin.

Around 1960, "The Sundowners" was one of two, big Hollywood productions shot in Australia; the other was "On the Beach". Both had scores by Hollywood composers, and both based their compositions on old Australian ballads. Ernest Gold developed his score for "On the Beach" around "Waltzing Matilda" while Dimitri Tiomkin based his on "The Queensland Drover". Combining classical and folk music wasn't new, but these film scores are unique, they are virtually two glorious symphonies celebrating Australia's own folk songs.

I also think the film is a fascinating look at a segment of Australian life that has long gone, After all, the film depicts a rural Australia of the 1920's, not life in 1960 when the film was made, that historical perspective stops the film from dating too much.

I'm amazed that some think not much happens in the film; based on Australian Jon Cleary's novel, it's full of incident with a story of a loving family in conflict between staying as "Sundowners", where home is where they stop for the night, or settling down in a permanent home.

Fred Zinnemann was one of the classiest directors. He liked to go where his films were set and they smack of authenticity. This film is a slice of Australiana in the same nostalgic vein that John Ford excelled in with American settings and Irish ones.

Importantly I think Robert Mitchum as the roving Paddy Carmody captured a character that is the one Australians 60 years ago liked to think represented their true spirit; self-reliant, forthright, wary of authority, and a bloke who never backed down from a scrap.

He inhabited a similar character to the one Peter Finch played in "The Shiralee" and "A Town Like Alice". However, it wasn't all acting, Mitchum was close to that in real life, an American version of a "larrikin". Forget that Bob's accent slipped here and there, he actually did pretty well. A brawny bloke, he was also impressive hauling 100 kilo Merino sheep around with his big hands in the very funny shearing scene.

Deborah Kerr as Ida gave a beautiful performance as the long-suffering, good-natured Ida who sticks by Paddy through it all. Peter Ustinov, who got some of the best lines, didn't have to change gears much playing an Englishman.

And if you think Americans can't nail an Aussie accent, these days most would think the actress who played Jean Halstead, the station owner's wife was one of the Aussie actors in the film, but that was Dina Merrill, New York born and raised.

Australian audiences at the time were thrilled to see that iconic Australian lifestyle depicted on the screen for the whole world to see. Then about 10 years later another outsider, Canadian Ted Kotcheff took another Australian novel through a darker side of the outback legend in "Wake in Fright".

This documentary is to other documentaries on the life of Whitney Huston what Whitney's performance of the "Star-Spangled Banner" at the 1991 Super Bowl is to all the other performances - simply unsurpassed.

In interviews, filmmaker Kevin Macdonald told how he was reluctant to make the film when first approached, feeling that Whitney had become a tabloid victim with not much left to tell. He admitted he was wrong when he discovered the amazing amount of love and affection there was for her when he met people who had known her. Then he became intrigued with her story and what happened to her. He approached the spectacular, but relatively short life of Whitney Huston as an investigation into a mystery.

The result is this extraordinary film.

"Whitney" is so absorbing you have to force yourself to step back and admire the actual technique that makes it so brilliant. Whitney's story is told through carefully chosen clips and images, but especially through the voices of the people who knew her intimately: her mother; her brothers; her ex-husband; friends; colleagues; an amazing collection of the key people in her life. Her story unfolds in chronological order; from Whitney as a child through to the dazzling career followed by the decline and inevitable end.

There are revelations, some shocking. The interviewees opened up to Macdonald with amazing candor telling of betrayals and unexpected dark experiences in Whitney's past. Names are named and Macdonald said he was conflicted whether to put them in the final cut, but as the "Me Too Movement" had paved the way, they were included. These disturbing insights go some way to explaining the self-destructive tendency in a woman described by nearly all as uncomplicated and fun-loving, who also seemed to have everything: luminous beauty, style and grace, and a voice so glorious that her mother called it "a gift".

There are sequences in "Whitney" where it is difficult not to have tears in your eyes.

This film lives up to all the superlatives.

The soldiers in this WW1 movie don't go over the top of the trenches they burrow under them.

This Australian film tells of the biggest operation of them all, the setting of the massive mine under Hill 60 on the Messines Ridge in 1917 that got a rise out of the enemy literally and lethally. It's from an Australian perspective, but it acknowledges the part the Tommies and Canadians played.

The look of the film is brilliant. The filmmakers didn't shy away from the incessant rain that made filming in it almost as uncomfortable as fighting a war in it.

The main character, real life Oliver Woodward (Brendan Cowell), is a civil mining engineer who ends up in charge of a group of Aussies enlisted for their civilian mining skills.

Flashbacks to civilian life throw a light on Australian society of that generation. Through the courtship of Oliver and the young daughter of a friend we get a sense of the manners and formality that existed between men and women.

The contrast is stark also between the airiness of the Australian countryside and the claustrophobic tunnels and muddy trenches at the front. Despite the horrors that stoic generation faced in WW1, they may have been even more horrified by the idea that 100 years on, cities in their fair land would feel the need for Safe Injection Rooms and that entertainment would include items such as "FBoy Island".

The film captures the spirit and sardonic humour of the miners. Like Peter Weir's Gallipoli, wit is as essential as grit in the portrayal of life in and under the trenches.

Some have claimed the number of Germans killed in the explosions was exaggerated. Possibly, but Charles Bean, the Australian historian, reported that the Australians that attacked after the explosions found the most demoralized soldiers they had ever encountered; even if you weren't killed, being on the receiving end of such an event would definitely ruin your day.

A British film, "The War Below" (2021) covers similar territory. It's good, but gives the impression that just half a dozen blokes pulled it off. The team of miners were specialist Clay Kickers, but that film barely shows their amazing method of lying on their backs with the spade between their legs. "The War Below" is poignant, but "Beneath Hill 60" is broader in scope; it digs a little deeper.

The thing that surprised me most about this film is how funny it is, and how good Richard Burton was in the role of the Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon.

Of course Tennesee William's play went through another filter for the film, the hand of John Huston.

The role of the Reverend seems based a lot on Tennessee himself. Through the Reverend Shannon we get William's views about God and his relationship with man. That was a theme John Huston could also get his teeth into; after all, he felt enough affinity with the Almighty to provide the voice of God in 1966's "The Bible: In the Beginning".

The role of the Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon needed theatricality. Forget the negative, contemporary criticism of his performance, how many could have carried off this dissipated, outrageous character as well as Burton? Apparently it wasn't all acting.

Tennessee pushed boundaries. The Rev has ruined his career as a clergyman presumably because he has a predilection for underage girls. Now a tour guide for a second-rate tour company on a rundown bus, he is accused of the same thing with a young passenger played by Sue Lyon. In desperation he virtually kidnaps his latest group of clients, female schoolteachers from a Baptist college, stranding them in a resort along the Mexican Coast run by old flame, Maxine (Ava Gardner).

There were differences between the play and the film. Some things needed a lighter touch to get a laugh instead of a wince from the audience. Huston subtracted characters, and took the whole thing to Mexico, but he also toned down some of Tennessee's tendency to shock. In the play, Shannon describes how children savagely tortured captured iguanas before eating them. Huston's film is breezier, the humour stronger.

Williams drew on his family and intimates for his characters. Two fascinating ones here are Hannah Jelkes (Deborah Kerr) and her elderly grandfather, Nonno (Cyril Delevanti), who must have been inspired by Williams' maternal grandfather, Walter Dakin, an Episcopalian rector, whom Tennessee took with him on many trips. The old gentlemen was frail and blind towards the end of his life, but Tennessee never considered him a burden; he was his grandfather's Hannah Jelkes.

Beautiful themes by composer Benjamin Frankel add to the film's richness. For me this is one the best adaptions of a William's play, as good as "Suddenly, Last Summer" or "A Streetcar Named Desire", but with less angst.