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The Happiest Millionaire (1967) Directed by Norman Tokar February 7, 2008

 

 

Fortuosity, the byword of Walt Disney’s “The Happiest Millionaire,” may not roll off the tongue as well as supercalifragilisticexpialidocious (possibly proven by the fact that Word accepts the latter and not the former?) and as Disney’s swan song, it squaked on for a little too long (a whopping 164 minutes in the United States before it was cut down), but like the spirit of this overwrought run on sentence, it possesses a certain charm that makes it interesting to watch.

 

The film, based on a forgotten Broadway play starring Walter Pidgeon, explores the wild world of the wealthy Biddle family through the eyes of an Irish immigrant just off the boat, John Lawless (Tommy Steele), who clearly had no idea what he was getting himself in to. In a haze of alligators and boxing gloves, John sticks, helping to save the day at the end of the film.

 

The greatest treat is hearing Fred MacMurray (Anthony J. Drexel Biddle) sing, and very well! So well that it makes one wish the famous grocery scene in Double Indemnity had involved him engaging in a musical romp with Barbara Stanwyck down the canned food aisle. It might have been a bit off putting but not more so than that horrendous wig. Also notable in the cast is the vivacious Lesley Ann Warren (Cordy Biddle) in a very early screen role, whose vibrance is contagious. And credit must be paid to Tommy Steele for dancing with and amongst alligators that didn’t seem too happy to be there.

 

One of the best numbers in the film, “It Won’t Be Long Till Christmas,” cut in the original version, gives Fred and his wife, played by Greer Garson (Mrs. Cordelia Biddle), their most touching moment in the film. Their children all out in the world, they contemplate a now empty home. Greer had a lovely, husky voice that blended very well with Fred’s. This isn’t one of my favorite Garson roles as the tranquil calm doesn’t come off as well as it does in some of her more polished 40s films, especially considering that she first signed on to play Mrs. Duke, a part with considerably more vivre. Geraldine Page decided she wanted the part, and Greer resigned to playing Mrs. Biddle. Greer wasn’t happy about it, and I’m not happy about it as someone who appreciates her most in the few instances where she got to show signs of humor and life. One of the highlights of this film? Hearing Gladys Cooper sing. I’m not saying she sings well but it is a treat nonetheless. I don’t think she ever gave a bad performance.

 

The major faux pas in this film is the embarrassingly apparent and excessive post dubbing. I found it very jarring, especially considering the otherworldly ease and charm the film promotes. The songs aren’t what I would call standards, but they certainly aren’t unpleasant spectacle. It is very hit and miss, but the odd subject matter did give the songwriters some interesting material to work with.  Most memorable is “Fortuosity,” written by Tommy Steele.

 

This isn’t Mary Poppins, but if you enjoy the Disney magic it is worth a look. Maybe just one look.

 

Marked Woman (1937) directed by Lloyd Bacon February 6, 2008

Filed under: film — celluloidrequiem @ 1:12 am
Tags: , , ,

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“Some will wind up in the short end, but not me, baby. I know all the angles, and I think I’m smart enough to keep one step ahead of them.”

 

To paraphrase Robert Osborne, Bette Davis may not have won the battle, but she sure did win the war. In the first of her screen appearances at Warner Brothers after her fight with the factory, Bette returns triumphant in a role with some meat in it. If the storyline is a little lackluster, watching Bette tear the screen to shreds is well worth the price of admission.

 

The film, based on the life of gangster Lucky Luciano, focuses its gaze on the women who would bring him down, prostitutes who worked in one of his brothels. Fed up with his dealings and maltreatment, they decided to talk. Of course in 1937 Hollywood did not accept prostitution as part of its reality, so the women were dubbed “cocktail waitresses,” with Bette (Mary Dwight) as their ringleader. Mary’s sweet kid sister, Betty (Jane Bryan) acts as the device that propels the action forward, making Mary turn against her former Boss. With the help of David Graham (Humphrey Bogart) the women put the infamous racketeer and his henchman behind bars.

 

Like the scar Johnny Vanning inflicts on Mary, Bette Davis leaves her mark on this film. I’ve never seen those famous eyes more alive, wide, and fierce. There is a flicker in them akin to fire, and she proves herself in film, as in life, a woman to be reckoned with. The material gives her some great lines to chew on. One of her best moments in the film is after she has double crossed Humphrey Bogart in the first trial in the picture, walking away from him with the line, “If I weren’t in such a hurry, I’d break right down and cry.” She is perfectly cold and entirely in control. She and Bogart worked great together. This film is a bit of a departure from Bogart’s other roles. This time he works with the law on the level, and gives some pretty impressive pleas for justice. Interesting note: Bogart fell in love with Mayo Methot during filming of this picture, and they were married after he divorced his second wife. Maybe that’s why there was certain softness to his performance, encased in that masculine, tough guy persona of course.

 

The rest of the supporting cast tends to blend together. Especially the other “cocktail waitresses.” I put the blame more on the script and the tendency to edit their expressions sequentially as a unit than on the actors. This makes sense within context of their degradation, but it makes for some pretty uninteresting camera work at times.

 

Though standard fare, Marked Woman is a film worth watching. The story is interesting, mainly because it is based in truth, and like any good Warner Brothers film of that era the ending is not entirely satisfying. Romantically, at least, they had to get you with something. Watch it to see Bette Davis literally set the studio ablaze with that piercing gaze of hers, to see Humphrey Bogart in a role marginally less tough, and to chuckle at how blatantly obvious it is that these women were more than “cocktail waitresses.”

 

How to write an introduction February 5, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — celluloidrequiem @ 10:15 pm

Hello world, I started this blog as an avid enthusiast of film past and present.  Especially past. I love writing film reviews, and I hope that my analysis can encourage those who stop by to check out a film or a star you might otherwise have overlooked.  

 

 
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