The Mummy/Bride of Frankenstein

After early successes with “Dracula” and “Frankenstein”, Universal immediately put more horror films into production, hoping to capitalize on their previous films’ success and build a stable of profitable franchises. Next up was “The Mummy”, followed shortly by the first sequel of the bunch, “The Bride of Frankenstein”. “The Mummy” is noteworthy because it is not based on an existing novel, such as “Dracula”, “Frankenstein”, or HG Wells’ “The Invisible Man”, which was also in production at the time. Instead, given the public’s fascination with all things ancient Egyptian after the much publicized uncovering of King Tut’s tomb, Universal simply transposed elements of the “Dracula” storyline to 1920’s Egypt, concerning a reincarnated villain in search of his long lost love. Universal, confident now in Boris Karloff as a bankable star, simply advertised “Karloff….THE MUMMY” and the people came. After two big successes, casting him in “The Bride of Frankenstein” was a slam dunk. The studio also wisely brought back director James Whale and true title character Colin Clive to reprise his role as troubled scientist Henry Frankenstein, this time bringing in Elsa Lanchester to play the bride (note, the monster’s bride, not the ‘real’ Frankenstein’s bride). With two smash franchises leading to three prominent roles, Karloff parlayed this into a lengthy career, almost always in horror films, but sometimes branching out (still playing that type though) in other classics such as “Scarface” and “Arsenic and Old Lace” (he did not appear in the film, but played the role of Jonathan Brewster to great acclaim on Broadway and his persona largely influenced Raymond Massey’s screen portrayal). Conversely, Bela Legosi only appeared in the first “Dracula” film and while he too would have a long career, he soon was recognized as a lesser star than Karloff, a fact which brought about severe depression and drug addiction if the allegedly factual Tim Burton film “Ed Wood” is to be believed. Either way, Karloff’s profile continued to rise throughout the 1930’s and Universal, which began the decade seeking an identity with the transition to sound, had one thanks to their horror films.

After directing their smash success “Dracula”, Carl Laemmle must have liked what he saw from the celebrated German cinematographer (having made his reputation shooting Fritz Lang and F.W. Murnau films), because he gave him the reins of his next monster franchise, “The Mummy”. Opening with an expedition in the deserts of Egypt around 1920, a group of scientists have just made a startling discovery, unearthing a tomb of a cursed priest and a mystical book buried amongst the sarcophagus. One of the scientists, Dr. Muller, the wizened and eldest of the group (played by Edward Van Sloan, essentially repeating his role from “Dracula” and “Frankenstein”), warns against disturbing the find, while the others disregard him and his antiquated belief in the power of the ancient Egyptian customs. Reading aloud the curse they are warned not to awakens the priest Imhotep from his slumber and instead of a scene crammed with flashy special effects like Stephen Sommers’ remake would have almost 70 years later, Imhotep simply opens his eyes, caked shut with thousands of years of dust and dirt and subtly twitches his fingers. Fully revived, the mere sight of him causes one member of the expedition to lose his mind and the last we see of Imhotep is him wandering deep into the desert. Cut to ten years later and the son of one of the members of the original expedition, Frank Whemple has taken up his father’s work, and is leading one of his own on the outskirts of Cairo. Acting on a tip by the mysterious Ardeth Bay, Imhotep in human form, Whemple unearths an incredible find, the sarcophagus of an Egyptian princess. What Whemple does not know, besides the fact that Ardeth Bay is really a 3000 year old priest sentenced to death for sleeping with the Pharoah’s wife (portrayed in a fascinating flashback done entirely in ‘silent movie’ style, i.e. stark lighting, elaborate makeup, acting and posturing, and a quicker shutter speed to give it the ‘flicker’ effect), is that Ardeth Bay believes a modern woman, Helen Grosvenor, to be his beloved Anck-es-en-Amon, reincarnated. Whemple is of course in love with Helen and struggles to protect her from the mysterious forces compelling her towards the expedition’s artifacts being housed in the Egyptian Museum. After witnessing the effects of Imhotep’s power (driving the native Nubians insane, killing several museum guards and Whemple’s father who get in his way), Whemple and Dr. Muller make the difficult decision of using Helen as bait, allowing her to follow her ancient impulse and go to Imhotep. Following her to the museum, Frank and Dr. Muller burn the room down, trapping Imhotep, at least until the franchise’s sequel, “The Mummy’s Hand”.

Contemporary audiences like to debate the question (more and more topical given the abundance of choices) “what is the best sequel ever made?” While “The Godfather Part II” is often cited as an acceptable response, James Whale definitely topped himself with 1935’s “Bride of Frankenstein”. Given greater freedom, both physically and artistically, “Bride of Frankenstein” expands on all fronts from its predecessor. Lavish sets (the wreckage of the windmill, from the finale of the first film, Dr. Frankenstein’s far more elaborate castle and laboratory, and several forest set pieces), more for the monster to do (he even gets to speak!), and a wonderful new addition to the franchise, Dr. Pretorius. While, for good reason, the Bride is cited as the biggest attraction from this film, Ernest Thesiger’s portrayal of the morbid Dr. Pretorius is what really gives the film its creepier, more effective tone. A sinister scientist who shares Dr. Frankenstein’s desire to create life, but lacking the moral dilemma that stopped Frankenstein from continuing his experiments from the first film, Dr. Pretorius visits Dr. Frankenstein early on and blackmails him into helping him with his experiments by threatening to implicate him in the death and destruction caused by the monster, who has lived from the events of the first film and is again terrorizing the countryside. Pretorius’ plan: give him a companion. Pretorious demonstrates his early experiments in a bizarre scene in which he produces a half dozen or so little people he keeps in glass bottles. This scene is a perfect example of the baroque sense of humor which runs throughout the film, a darker, edgier bent that most early films, comedy or otherwise, did not often employ. After blackmailing Dr. Frankenstein into joining his research, again estranging his beloved Elizabeth, the two ultimately create ‘the Bride’, played by Elsa Lanchester, who also appears as Mary Shelley in a framing prologue, in which Lord Byron and Percy Shelley (no Keats though) compliment her on her horror tale. The Bride is regarded as a Universal monster, even though she only appears on screen for barely 10 minutes and has no lines other than hissing and screeching. The Monster however is given plenty of lines, learning to speak by a blind hermit who befriends him temporarily (a scene spoofed to great effect 40 years later by Mel Brooks in “Young Frankenstein”), and before killing himself, the Bride and Dr. Pretorious, utters one of cinema’s classic lines “We belong dead”, a mournful decree that offers a dramatic climax to the film. While the franchise would spawn three further sequels, this arguably stands as its finest.

Dracula/Frankenstein

In the early 1930’s, as studios made their transition into sound, each tried to find its identity in the rapidly changing film world. Universal, along with Paramount already a longtime tenant in Hollywood, made a marked decision at that time: to create popular franchises out of classic horror stories, allowing the monsters to be the stars. Envisioned as a cost cutting measure (a forward thinking strategy that is almost der rigeur in today’s Hollywood of tentpole/franchise filmmaking), Universal quickly discovered they were sitting on a goldmine and throughout the 1930’s and 1940’s would bring Dracula, Frankenstein, the Mummy, the Wolfman, the Invisible Man, and the Creature from the Black Lagoon, among others, to the big screen. The first horror icons to make it to the big screen were Dracula and Frankenstein, based on the gothic novels by Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley, respectively. Released only a few months apart, the films catapulted their otherwise anonymous stars (both of whom had done extensive work in silent film and theater, but nothing history would have remembered them for) to genre superstardom: Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula and Boris Karloff as The Monster, and for the next 20-30 years, each would star in countless horror films, many of which made at Universal and unfortunately almost all of declining quality (to the point that Legosi ended up starring in a few Ed Wood films, dramatized poignantly in Tim Burton’s “Ed Wood”). After each film’s smash success, Universal wasted no time launching their next franchises and soon “The Mummy” and “The Invisible Man” were in theaters. In terms of iconic films though, 1931’s “Dracula” and “Frankenstein” are the pinnacle of Universal’s monster conveyor belt, thanks mainly to their dynamic source material, whereas their sequels were inevitably watered down (if still entertaining) retellings of the previous tales. For Legosi, this would be the only time he played the role of Dracula on film, and the subsequent depths to which his career plummeted makes this performance all the more entrancing. For Karloff, who much to Legosi’s dismay, enjoyed a stronger, longer, more diverse career, his first turn as The Monster would not be his last, and it was not even a year later before he was back in makeup for Universal as The Mummy.

The film version of “Dracula” almost did not make it to the big screen. Bram Stoker’s widow controlled the rights to the film and was seeking an exorbitant price for any adaptation. Universal, always thinking frugally first and creatively second, instead bought the rights to Hamilton Deane’s stage play of the same name, itself an unofficial adaptation that drastically scaled down the novel’s expansive action. Fearful of a lawsuit, Universal acquired the novel’s rights as well, after Stoker’s widow reduced her asking price; in an interesting twist, Bela Legosi, the pending star of the film and former star of the stage adaptation, personally visited Stoker’s widow to convince her to lower her price, such was his desperation at possibly losing out on the star making role. Despite having access to Stoker’s elaborate and colorful plot, the film still stuck closely to Deane’s stripped down storytelling, foregoing, among other things, the novel’s action climax back in the forests of Transylvania. What Universal did not cut costs on was the film’s sets, especially Dracula’s castle, which is quite elaborate, and would be used for a number of subsequent films for the studio, including the Spanish language version of the film shot concurrently. While the action is pared down, the plot is still Stoker’s: a young real estate broker journeys to Transylvania on behalf of his client, the mysterious Count Dracula, who is purchasing extensive land in England. Upon arriving at the castle, the broker, Jonathan Harker, quickly finds he is imprisoned by Dracula, a creature of evil who sails to England in a coffin which he must return to at sunrise every day. Upon arriving in England, Dracula quickly seeks out Mina Harker, Jonathan’s fiancée, who it is suggested is the reincarnated love of Count Dracula’s long dead wife. Dracula appears in her window one night while she is asleep and soon Mina falls gravely ill with a mysterious ailment (notice the popularized Dracula trademarks of biting his victims on their necks is not portrayed here). A beleaguered Jonathan returns, and with the help of Dr. Seward, Mina’s private doctor, and the enigmatic Professor Van Helsing (played by early character actor Edward Van Sloan, who portrayed the same “wise, old, ‘insert monster here’ expert in “Frankenstein” as well as “The Mummy”), they seek out Dracula’s crypt and kill him by a stake through the heart (one of the now famous trademarks that does make an appearance here). The real story of the film is Legosi, however, who so clearly relishes his role, and the mystery and sinister nature of the character is given a big lift by Karl Freund’s moody cinematography (extensive closeups of Legosi’s piercing eyes), which so impressed Universal they rewarded him with directing duties on “The Mummy”.

For “Frankenstein”, Universal stepped further away from the source material, instead relying on another play, but one which differed extensively from the novel of the same name. Watching the film, it is apparent how closely Universal wanted to stick to the simple formula used in “Dracula”, eschewing far flung locations for a streamlined tale. As the film opens, Dr. Henry Frankenstein is performing mysterious science experiments that involve grave robbing and stealing brains from medical colleges. Late one evening, his fiancée, Elizabeth (natch), best friend, Victor (natch twice) and former mentor, Dr. Waldman, played by Edward Van Sloan (natch thrice) show up unannounced at the castle Frankenstein is conducting his research, demanding to know what he is doing and why he has shut himself away for months, withdrawing from the university, shunning his fiancée and father and foregoing the advice of his teacher and friend. Reluctantly Frankenstein admits them and the crew is shocked to discover the full extent of his plans: to re-animate a dead human being, a composite actually of human body parts, through thousands of volts of electricity channeled directly to the brain via a lightning bolt. Upon successful completion of the experiment, the monster’s hand twitches with life, Frankenstein erupts with his now classic line “Its alive!” and the more controversial “Now I know what it’s like to BE God!”, which was muffled from subsequent re-releases of the film by a convenient thunderclap, but restored when the film was released on dvd some 70 years later. Frankenstein’s euphoria is short lived however, as he quickly realizes the brain the Monster possesses is that of a violent criminal, prompting the monster to kill Frankenstein’s assistant and go on a rampage throughout the countryside, controversially killing a small girl by throwing her into a lake after innocently playing with her moments before. It should be noted that the director, James Whale, attempts to sympathize with his monster, portraying him as merely confused and scared; these traits are further established in the film’s superior sequel “The Bride of Frankenstein”. After murdering the child, the monster is chased into a remote windmill, where Frankenstein attempts to subdue him while a violent mob forms outside. Unable to overwhelm the physically superior monster, he is thrown from the roof of the windmill, and in what must have been shocking for the time, is splayed across one of the blades before crashing to the ground. Frankenstein no longer at risk, the mob launches torches onto the thatch roof of the windmill, burning it to the ground with the monster trapped inside. An unconscious Frankenstein is brought back to his family’s castle to recuperate as his father toasts to the family name, an ending far more optimistic than Shelley’s original, and one that is largely ignored considering the sequel produced two years later.

Ivanhoe/The Knights of the Round Table

While not as famous as his contemporaries, like Errol Flynn and Tyrone Power, Robert Taylor was still a sizable star of Old Hollywood, and one who can legitimately be recognized for three distinct periods of his long career spanning over three decades. Upon arriving on the scene in the mid 1930’s, he was cast primarily due to his matinee idol good looks, most notably starring alongside Greta Garbo in “Camille”. When World War II broke out, Taylor became very active in the efforts at home, starring in one of the most popular and realistic films of its time, “Bataan”, before joining the Naval Air Corps in 1943. For the next three years, at the peak of his career, Taylor taught flight schools and even managed to rely on his film experience, directing several training videos. Upon returning to Hollywood he found himself in the middle of the on-going House Un-American Committee’s Communist “witch hunt”, causing headlines by being one of the biggest “friendly” witnesses called by the prosecution. The 1950’s saw an older, more refined Taylor step into more dignified roles, such as “Quo Vadis” and two of his biggest hits for MGM (his longtime studio), “Ivanhoe” and its de facto sequel “Knights of the Round Table”. Three solid decades of work in Hollywood, all for MGM, saw him go from matinee idol, to Army proponent, to stoic leading man, and while he continued working into the 1960’s, his output declined and died in 1969 after a bout with lung cancer. Despite his long, illustrious body of work, Taylor dabbled in different genres, never making a true name for himself as Flynn and Power were able to do. Instead he is lumped in with actors like Ray Milland and John Garfield, solid actors who never really distinguished themselves enough to make “history” take notice, which is a shame since “Ivanhoe” and “Knights of the Round Table” are such fine entries in the period swashbuckler sub-genre. Typical lush productions by MGM, shot in vibrant Technicolor and populated with strong supporting casts (Joan Fontaine, Elizabeth Taylor, George Sanders, Mel Ferrer, Ava Gardner), both films were directed by capable studio hand Richard Thorpe and were smash hits for the studio, which saw the quality and returns of their non-musical films begin to decline in the 1950’s, the first sign that the glory days were coming to an end for the legendary studio.

“Ivanhoe”, the first of Taylor’s two smash swashbucklers, begins with Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe roaming the mountainsides of Europe, in search of King Richard, who on his way back to England after the Crusades is abducted and held ransom in Austria. Ivanhoe finds him and learns that Richard’s brother John, who is wearing the crown in his brother’s absence, is refusing to pay the ransom to maintain his position as sovereign. A deep political rift exists between the two factions in England, the “conquering” Normans, who are currently in power, and the “native” Saxons, who represent deposed nobility (like Ivanhoe and his father, Sir Cedric) and the common folk, such as rabble rouser Sir Robin of Locksley. Ivanhoe seeks help from his estranged father, who disowned him when he joined the Crusades against his wishes and despite the attempt at mediating by Cedric’s ward and Ivanhoe’s beloved, Lady Rowena, Ivanhoe is turned away by Cedric without any help with the ransom. Fate brings Ivanhoe upon Isaac of York, the main banker for the Jews of England and in exchange for religious freedom which he grants them in Richard’s name, they agree to help pay the ransom from amongst the Jewish community. Ivanhoe also plans on raising support for his cause by defeating the Saxon nobles in a jousting tournament Prince John is hosting, and this is where the first encounter between Ivanhoe and the conniving Brian de Bois Gilbert (played with a suitable snarl by the great George Sanders) takes place. Armored as the mysterious black knight, Ivanhoe defeats all Saxon challengers, until he is knocked off his horse by Bois Gilbert in a close contest. Ivanhoe is seriously injured in the match and is taken to the home of Isaac, where he is cared for by his lovesick daughter, Rebecca (an impossibly beautiful nineteen year old Elizabeth Taylor). While he is being cared for, Prince John learns of Ivanhoe’s plans and has his father, Rowena, Rebecca and Isaac captured and imprisoned in Bois Gilbert’s castle. With the help of Robin Hood, Ivanhoe leads an assault on the castle (Ivanhoe fighting from within after a botched prisoner exchange, and Robin Hood’s archers advancing from outside in a stunning scene), freeing Cedric, Rowena and Isaac, but losing Rebecca to the lustful Bois Gilbert, who escapes with her. Prince John, in an attempt to win back the people, plots to have Rebecca killed for witchcraft and alleging Richard was in league with the Jews and their black magic; however Ivanhoe offers his life in battle against the King’s champion, to clear her name. Prince John names Bois Gilbert, and the two have a vicious fight, in which Ivanhoe ultimately emerges victorious. Rebecca is freed and the ransom Ivanhoe raised with the help of the Jews frees Richard, who returns to his country amidst great pomp (both on screen and off, thanks to Miklos Rozsa’s pounding score).

Filmed almost immediately after, and largely due to the success of “Ivanhoe”, “Knights of the Round Table” takes the now familiar tale based on Thomas Mallory’s “La Morte D’Artur” and gives it the sweeping epic 1950’s Technicolor treatment. Reuniting Robert Taylor, not as Arthur, but as the noble yet doomed knight Lancelot, and his director, Richard Thorpe, the film was shot on gorgeous location in England and Ireland, and features a strong supporting cast including the ravishing Ava Gardner as Guinevere, Mel Ferrer as Arthur, Stanley Baker as the villainous Mordred and from “Ivanhoe”, Felix Aylmer as the wise sage Merlin. The story, which seems so redundant now, was fresh and new to audiences of the time as a dramatic interpretation of the events featuring such pop culture touchstones as Camelot and Excalibur had never been done to such an expensive extent. In the early going, Arthur is simply one of many embattled chieftains, fighting for a united Britain, which has been in divided chaos since the Romans left. As illegitimate son of Uther Pendragon, the last recognized king; his claim to the throne is challenged, most adamantly by Mordred, who is aligned with Arthur’s half sister Morgan Le Fay. Desperately seeking to unite Britain, through bloodshed if he must, Arthur, with the help of Merlin and Lancelot, who arrives early on from France seeking to aid Arthur in his noble quest, defeats his combined enemies in an epic (especially for the time) battle and sees his dream realized. Arthur sets up court at Camelot and rules benevolently with his queen, Guinevere. Directly under Arthur’s nose, however, Lancelot and Guinevere begin a clandestine love affair. While Mallory’s poem dramatizes their love affair as quite passionate, restrictions of the time prevented any such portrayal, which hurts the film while viewing in a contemporary context, as their love seems more platonic (they don’t even share a kiss until “the dye has been cast” as it were). Fearful of being found out and disgracing Arthur, Lancelot accepts a post in the far North, which enables the film another rousing action set piece, but after a period of peace, he must return to Camelot. Entrapped by Mordred and Morgan, who still have designs on the throne, Lancelot is banished and Guinevere relegated to a nunnery, while Arthur again must fight fellow Britons. After being mortally wounded in battle, Arthur summons Lancelot back and in a climactic duel, dramatically shot on a brilliant cliff in Ireland, Lancelot defeats Mordred. The film takes the “safe” way out and segues into a pseudo epilogue in which Lancelot passes on the crown to Arthur and Guinevere’s son, Galahad, destined to be the bravest and noblest knight ever. Nevermind that Mallory implies that Galahad is the son of Lancelot and Guinevere, and other history implies that Galahad was in fact Lancelot’s brother, a good ending was what audiences craved in the 1950’s and that is what they got.

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes/How to Marry a Millionaire

In the early 1950's Marilyn Monroe starred in a number of successful musical comedies for 20th Century Fox. Not counting her later work with Billy Wilder at MGM (and "The Seven Year Itch", which was a Fox film, but differs greatly from her standard Fox fare, largely because of Wilder's touch), these films would stand as the apex of her career, based on the film's overall quality and the performances she turned in. Two of the best were “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes”, directed by the legendary Howard Hawks and co-starring equally buxom Jane Russell. Remembered for all time as the film in which Monroe sings “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” in her sleeveless pink dress and long pink gloves, the film’s strength lies in the fact that Monroe has better chemistry with Jane Russell than she ever did any of her male co-stars. The two deftly play off each other, Monroe doing her trademark innocence and naiveté shtick, while Russell excels as the “ballsy, brassy dame”, who knows a thing or two about men and constantly has to impart her knowledge onto Monroe’s Lorelei Lee. The other is “How To Marry A Millionaire”, though not a comedy, combines Monroe with a stellar supporting cast, featuring Lauren Bacall and Betty Grable as her partners in the titular crime and the legendary William Powell, in a fine knowing performance, as one of their marks. The fun of this film is the premise: three millionaire chasing women move into an apartment they could never afford with a limited budget, planning on marrying for money way before that ever becomes an issue. Obviously things do not go as planned, and the film stands as a fine comedic showcase for the three women; suave, sophisticated Lauren Bacall, nearly blind Marilyn Monroe, and impulsive ditz Betty Grable. Both films were hits in their day, solidifying Monroe’s stature as leading lady of romantic comedies and leading to bigger roles in the aforementioned Wilder films.

“Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” introduces its two chorines; Lorelei Lee and Dorothy Shaw, as they are performing their nightclub act together, singing “We’re Two Little Girls From Little Rock”. The reason it sounds so good is because it, along with several other songs used in the film, was written by Jule Styne, acclaimed composer of songs from such classic shows and films as “Gypsy”, “Anchors Aweigh”, and “Funny Girl”. After their act, Lorelei’s fiancé, Gus Esmond visits them backstage and expresses his reluctance to let the girls go to Europe unaccompanied. To make matters worse, Gus’ father, and provider of his considerable fortune, thinks Lorelei is nothing but a golddigger, and warns that any misconduct on her part will result in Gus being cut off. What he does not tell Gus is that he is sending a private detective along to follow the girls and make sure Lorelei gets into trouble. The fact that they are traveling with the Olympic track team, all of whom appeal to the always-looking-for-a-good-time Dorothy, does nothing for Gus’ nerves. Soon after the ship sets sail Lorelei immediately begins looking for a sugar daddy (something to tide her over I suppose) and settles on Henry Spofford III, based on his regal sounding name. Little does she know that Mr. Spofford is actually an extremely precocious 7 year old boy, and his one-liners, delivered in a deadly serious monotone, comprise the film’s funniest moments. Lorelei soon settles on a different type of sugar daddy, Sir Francis “Piggy” Beekman, played by famed character actor Charles Coburn. After the private detective, Ernie Malone, who cozies up to the ladies by coming on to Dorothy, gets his pictures of Lorelei and Piggy together (in an innocuous act of course), Mr. Esmond pulls the plug, which sends a desperate Gus to Paris, where the ladies are performing in a variety show. Complicating matters is Ernie’s growing affection for Dorothy and a missing diamond tiara which Piggy gives to Lorelei in a moment of weakness, then disappears when his wife starts asking about it. Everything is resolved in an elaborate courtroom scene in which Dorothy poses as Lorelei, sings a reprise of “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” and clears everyone’s name. Ernie destroys his evidence, winning back Dorothy’s heart and Gus and Lorelei are free to be together (while she does love him, her intentions remain strictly monetary, sending a troubling message, especially considering the next film).

“How To Marry a Millionaire” plays out much the same way, with the three women, working as models, set themselves as bait to lure in three millionaires. All three quickly find suitable marks, Loco (Betty Grable) ends up with J. Stewart, domineering banker only to happy to cheat on his wife, but desperate to avoid word of it getting out, Pola (Marilyn Monroe) lands mysterious eye-patched playboy Waldo, and ostensible leader Schatze (Lauren Bacall) lands Texas oilman JD Hanley, a debonair (much) older man, played with requisite charm by William Powell. Loco and Pola quickly find their men not worth their time, both through hilarious circumstances. Loco immediately falls ill upon arriving at the rustic Elk lodge Stewart takes her to, and is nursed back to health by Eben, the handsome park ranger/valet who works for Stewart. She mistakenly assumes he is wealthy when he tells her thousands of acres of timber are “his”, referring of course to his duty to protect them. Pola, who is constantly at a severe disadvantage thanks to her insistence on not wearing her glasses, lets her poor vision cloud her judgment with Waldo, ignoring her friends’ comments that he is no good. Her poor vision however is ultimately what gets her out of trouble. Schatze is at first the happiest of the three. She truly loves JD (and his money) and his noble intentions and refined manner suit her perfectly. All the while she has to reject the advances of Tom Brookman, a millionaire who never wears a suit and prefers cheeseburgers, thus she assumes he works at a gas station. All three realize their unhappiness, though not without one final push of common sense (Stewart’s paranoia about being seen with Loco explodes as they have the unfortunate distinction of being the 1 millionth car to cross the George Washington Bridge, resulting in a massive photo op, while Pola, thinking she is getting on a plane to Atlantic City to meet the shady Waldo, instead ends up on a plane to Kansas City sitting next to Freddie Denmark, the on-the-lam millionaire owner of the apartment the girls have been renting!) and end up with their new men. Schatze has the hardest decision to make. She ends up not marrying JD, who handles the entire thing with diplomacy, even putting in a good word for Tom, resulting in Schatze giving him a chance and ultimately falling in love with him (she only finds out her is a millionaire after he throws down a $1,000 bill to cover the gang’s tab at his favorite cheeseburger place). As opposed to “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes”, here, all three women end up in loving relationships, although, they have to some fun, two of the three of them are still millionaires!

San Francisco

One of the best of the "disaster film” sub-genre that was popular in the 1930's, “San Francisco” was an MGM production that boasts two incredible stars and award winning, revolutionary special effects recreating an event only 30 years old at the time. Clark Gable and Spencer Tracy were two of the biggest stars of the time when MGM first paired them together for this film. The duo would subsequently appear on screen together in "Test Pilot" and "Boom Town", but never as successfully, with both actors comfortably playing roles that suit them perfectly. Gable is "Blackie" Norton, one of the bosses of the Barbary Coast, San Francisco's gambling and otherwise “illicit” district, whose counsel comes from his boyhood friend and priest, Father Tim Mullin, played by Spencer Tracy. With Gable as a charismatic rogue and Tracy as a compassionate man of faith (roles they would play many times throughout their respective careers), plus the dynamic singing of rising star Jeanette MacDonald (soon to be illustriously paired with Nelson Eddy in a popular series of MGM operettas) and the aforementioned special effects (taken for granted today, but cracking a believable city street was no small feat in 1936), all under the smooth direction of W.S. "One Take Woody" Van Dyke, made this one of MGM's biggest hits of 1936. While the sub-genre would go on to include "In Old Chicago", "The Hurricane" and "The Rains Came", “San Francisco” and Schoedsack/Cooper's "The Last Days of Pompeii" were among the first to dazzle audiences with spectacular recreations of historic events, but still barely scratching the surface of what cinematic innovators would ultimately accomplish. However, when considering older films, one must place them in their proper context, and in 1936, there was no bigger film than MGM's "San Francisco".

The film begins on New Year’s Eve, 1905. As the town celebrates, a house burns down on the Barbary Coast, the “red light” district of San Francisco, which is saying something considering San Francisco was regarded as the “wickedest” city in the world at the time. The next morning, several area “politicians” come to see Blackie Norton, owner of the Paradise saloon and dance hall, as well as de facto leader of the Coast, and urge him to run for city council. Blackie reluctantly accepts but soon is caught up in his fight abolish the fire trap buildings that populate the Coast, such as the one that burned down on New Year’s Eve. His political fighting soon takes a back seat to his romantic fighting with upper class politician and manager of the Tivoli Opera House, Jack Burley. Burley hears Blackie’s newest singer, Mary Blake, perform one night at his club and instantly recognizes her operatic voice is being wasted performing in a saloon and implores Blackie to tear up his contract with her and let her go to the Tivoli. Burley also loves Mary and his jealousy rivals Blackie’s who fiercely and selfishly forbids her from breaking her contract. Initially Mary, a naïve young girl new to San Francisco, thinks of Blackie as a thug and gambler, but she begins to see the good in him thanks to his best friend, Father Tim Mullin, who informs her of Blackie’s good deeds he does for the community anonymously. Mary soon falls in love with Blackie, but Burley does not give up and soon Father Mullin begins pressuring Blackie to let her go to the Tivoli. Blackie reluctantly lets her go, but after one performance schemes to get her back, threatening to use his new political clout against Burley. The scheme works temporarily, but when Father Mullin learns of it, he forces Blackie to let her go back, resulting in Blackie punching his best friend, but Father Mullin’s point has been made, and Blackie again lets her go to the Tivoli. Leaving her time at the Paradise behind, Mary soon becomes an opera sensation and is soon engaged to Burley, while a bitter Blackie sees the Paradise shut down by politicians in an attempt to “clean up” the Coast.

Soon after, Mary and Burley are attending an annual society gala which honors the best variety act in San Francisco. All of the dance halls perform, except for the Paradise, which has been shut down. Mary jumps up at the last moment and announces she will sing on behalf of the Paradise and leads the crowd in a rousing rendition of the song “San Francisco”, enough to win the event for the Paradise. A resentful Blackie storms on stage and says “no thanks”, shunning Mary and the honor, but the uneasy mood quickly changes as the most devastating earthquake in California history hits. Tearing the theater apart, toppling tall buildings, breaking open city streets, splitting water mains, and causing massive fires, the earthquake completely ravages the city. Blackie emerges from under a pile of rubble and quickly begins looking for Mary. He grows despondent when he finds the body of Burley and Mary’s hat, wandering aimlessly around town looking for her, trying to avoid deadly aftershocks, and the raging fire, which the army tries to stop by dynamiting debris into its path (in reality, the water main breaking was the worst of the fallout, as the raging fires could not be adequately fought, thus the archaic practice of dynamiting, which ended up doing much more harm than good). Blackie stumbles into a Red Cross tent and finds Father Mullin caring for the wounded. Thinking Mary is dead, Blackie slumps to the ground and sheds a few tears (much would be made of Clark Gable refusing to do a scene in which he had to cry in “Gone With the Wind” three years later, allegedly threatening to walk off the film until Olivia de Havilland convinced him otherwise, however here oddly, no such stories exist), but Father Mullin says he knows where Mary is and takes him to her. Blackie and Mary are reunited in a large refugee camp, and as a boy runs through the camp telling everyone the fire is out, Blackie and Mary walk hand in hand with the swelling crowd back into their ruined city, which, as the film fades to black, dissolves into a shot of contemporary San Francisco, leaving the viewer with a feeling of resiliency and hope.

Irma La Douce

Only Billy Wilder could write a sweet, charming, hilarious romantic comedy where his leading lady plays an indifferent prostitute. The man who made a living churning laughs out of the most cynical of situations made it four for four when he followed up his masterpieces “Some Like It Hot” and “The Apartment”, and the vastly underrated “One, Two, Three!” with “Irma La Douce”, a delightful fable reuniting his two stars from “The Apartment”: Shirley MacLaine as the titular heroine (taking her one step further to ruin from a confidence-less working girl/mistress in “The Apartment”) and Jack Lemmon in a dynamic double performance as exasperated Nestor Patou and his alter ego, Lord X. The film also features a wonderful supporting performance by Lou Jacobi (in a role intended for Charles Laughton) as Moustache, the de facto narrator and conscience of the piece. The plot, if handled by anyone else, would be written off as convoluted and superfluous, but Wilder and his writing partner I.A.L. Diamond were masters of the five (or six) act structure, as the film deliberately plays out, milking every situation for all its worth. Really though, the story is Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine playing off each other, possessing chemistry most directors would kill for. Attention must also be given to the film’s elaborate Rue Casanova set as well. While the majority of Wilder’s films are mostly static, this film plays out across the gorgeous set, as well as some fine Parisian exteriors which give the film an extra cache. Running at a leisurely 147 minutes (a hefty running time for any film, let alone a romantic comedy), the film sprawls through four distinct story arcs, which basically boil down to boy meets girl, boy gets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back. The genius of Billy Wilder was that even when he was brushing with excess and indulgence (his later films’ padded running times hint at greater creative freedom, and a growing displeasure with studio imposed edits), his jokes were always funny and his characters always true. Jokes and gags that would come off as superfluous and unnecessary in other films are always inspired and worthwhile in Wilder’s, a forgiveness which few directors are granted from critics and audiences.

As the film begins, Nestor Patou is an overly enthusiastic patrolman, walking his first beat on the Rue Casanova. Recently promoted after rescuing a boy from drowning at his previous beat (a tame childrens’ park, a joke amongst the other policemen), Nestor is shocked when he discovers the rampant prostitution. He proceeds to arrest the entire network of pimps, girls and their johns, capturing his captain in the process; all this despite the protest of Moustache, the owner of the bar that serves as unofficial headquarters of the Rue Casanova. Fired from the police force for embarrassing the captain and disrupting standard business practices, Nestor sadly returns to the Rue Casanova looking for Irma, the pretty red head he noticed during his arrest. After witnessing her being roughed up by her pimp, Nestor steps in on her behalf and in a hilarious “fight” completely inadvertently manages to knock the pimp (the local tough, natch) out, securing Irma’s affection and the respect of all the other pimps who elect him their new leader. Swept up in a new career, Nestor hatches a new scheme to keep Irma from selling herself on the street: posing as a wealthy, mysterious, older Englishman, known as Lord X. Jack Lemmon throws himself into the more unrestrained role of Lord X, with a maniacal cackle and herky jerky walk, as well as referencing pretty much every popular film about the British of the past 30 years (“Gunga Din”, “Lives of a Bengal Lancer”, “The Charge of the Light Brigade”, etc). Initially flush with a loan from Moustache, Lord X agrees to visit Irma twice a week, each time giving her 500 francs and in exchange she does not sleep with any other men. Irma is at first confused by Lord X’s intentions, he seems content simply talking and playing solitaire with her, but soon she falls in love with the mysterious gentleman, never suspecting he is Nestor trying simply to do the right thing. To sustain the 1000 francs he has promised to Irma as Lord X, Nestor begins waking up early in the morning, sneaking out of the apartment and working several jobs before returning home just as Irma awakens. During this time Irma gets increasingly frustrated with Nestor, as she cannot figure out why he is constantly exhausted and disinterested in her. Nestor soon realizes she may prefer Lord X to him, which results in him taking drastic action.

Nestor plans on “retiring” the Lord X character to win back Irma’s affections, but as he throws the Lord X costume in the river, a passerby suspects that Nestor, who emerges from behind the tree Lord X just went behind moments before, has killed him, and soon Nestor is arrested for the murder of Lord X. Nestor thinks he can explain everything to the police, but Moustache hatches a plan: the only way to convince Irma of your love is to admit to killing Lord X in a fit of jealous passion. This being Paris, he claims, they will be compelled to free you to be with the woman you love. Moustache’s plan half works; Irma’s love for Nestor is rekindled, but Nestor is throw in jail. A few months later Moustache breaks him out and in a hilarious moment, Lord X is reborn (literally emerging from the Siene at the exact spot Nestor was to have killed him), and vindicates Nestor. Nestor and Irma are free to marry and in the background of the wedding a mysterious stranger watches the proceedings: Lord X! As the audience wonders what is going on, Moustache appears and says “but that’s another story”, a refrain of a phrase he has used several times throughout the film, each time usually to get Nestor to go along with a scheme of his (when he convinces Nestor he can get him off for the murder of Lord X by rationalizing he was once a lawyer, “but that’s another story”). Noting that this was Billy Wilder’s highest grossing film is surprising considering some of his classics like “Some Like It Hot” and “Sunset Boulevard”, but when you consider the two stars at the peak of their careers, the overwhelming amount of chemistry they shared on the heels of “The Apartment”, and the sheer number of laughs the film has, its not that big a shock. One can wonder how different the film would have been with Marilyn Monroe in the lead, Billy Wilder had a longstanding love/hate relationship with the star, always coaxing an incredible performance from her, but using every last strain of patience in the process and in the end he opted for the more stable Shirley MacLaine. Watching the film today, it appears quite perfect.

Inherit the Wind

With the gradual liberal shift beginning to prevail in Hollywood in the mid 1950's, thanks to the strong opposition within the filmmaking community of the radical conservative policies regarding Communism, a new wave of court room dramas, steeped in realism, yet paced like action films, arrived. The best example of this type is Sidney Lumet's riveting "12 Angry Men", a film translation of a hit Broadway play in which a seemingly slam dunk guilty verdict dissolves over the course of one chaotic day of arguing in a jury room, thanks largely to the curiousity of one juror, played by Henry Fonda. Another film worth mentioning in this small sub-genre, also based on a successful Broadway play, is 1960's "Inherit the Wind". Directed by Stanley Kramer, the film is a dramatic interpretation of the infamous Scopes Monkey Trial of the 1920's, one of the first significant clashes of culture in American society, a theme that is even more topical today as that rift has widended significantly in the 70 year interim. The Scopes Monkey trial concerned a high school biology teacher, John Scopes, imprisoned because he taught his students the theory of evolution (hence the monkey), in effect "renouncing" religious monotheistic doctrine, which states that God created the world, man included. The prosecution was headed by William Jennings Bryan, three time loser of the presidency of the United States, but still one of the most influential and powerful conservative politicians of the time. For the defense, Scopes was represented by celebrated trial lawyer Clarence Darrow. The trial became a national fascination, thanks to the larger than life personalities on either side of the case, and its legacy is incredibly important, considering the gap between the religious right and the liberal left today. The film version was no less celebrated, thanks to Spencer Tracy and Fredric March as Henry Drummond (Darrow) and Matthew Harrison Brady (Bryan) respectively, giving typical towering performances; their courtroom scenes are positively spellbinding, and the film as a whole is a startling depiction of problems we still see affecting politics today.

As the film opens, biology teacher Bertram Cates has just made his fateful decision, knowing full well the consequences that await him as the local police stand in the back of the classroom. Held in the town jail, the impending trial begins to attract national attention, thanks to newspaper columnist E.K. Hornbeck, writer for the Baltimore Sun. Played by Gene Kelly in a delightful, different turn for the actor, Hornbeck is ostensibly the film’s narrator, (somewhat) impartially observing from the vantage point of reporter, but really as invested as the entire town is. He chides the locals for their superstitious ways regarding religion, believing Cates is doomed to burn in Hell for his sins, and Kelly maintains a perfect sarcastic, comedic wit, making you wish he had stepped outside of his bread and butter zone more often. Hornbeck, like the two lawyers, is based on acclaimed satirist/columnist of the time H.L. Mencken, and in reality his paper did help pay for Scopes’ defense. The film portrays Matthew Harrison Brady as an old war horse, eager to remain relevant even as the times are passing him by. He jumps at the opportunity to prosecute in the case and enters the small town to a hero’s welcome (so much for an impartial jury). Also implied is a longstanding friendship between Brady and his ultimate adversary, Henry Drummond, who seemingly accepts the case more as a last duel with Brady than anything else. A devout agnostic and firm believer in modern science, Tracy plays Drummond with an air of reluctant enthusiasm, the once proud king of the jungle in the twilight of his career, but whose interest grows as the case becomes more heated. Brady’s main argument is that Cates broke the state law, forbidding the teaching of anything contrary to the theory of Divine conception. To him, it is a slam dunk. Drummond, like a fight, absorbs the obvious blows early, rolling with the punches as it were, until he launches into his (both Darrow the lawyer and Tracy the actor) signature speeches. As the trial plays out, the town slowly begins to take sides. Cates’ fiancee is daughter to the town’s preacher, and this is played out in a somewhat melodramatic subplot, but the friendship explored between Drummond and Brady is quite compelling. A quiet scene between the two men sitting on the porch of the lodging house they are sharing is so sublime it feels improvised, just two great actors, speaking as their respective characters would have.

The film’s climax comes when Drummond calls Brady to the stand as a witness for the defense. The move stuns the courtroom, but Brady, confident in an apparent victory, steps forward. Drummond proceeds to bombard him with questions concerning events regarded as biblical fact. Brady begins by curtly answering each question with a similar response, essentially “I believe everything in the Bible”. But Drummond keeps chiseling away, asking about Jonah and the whale, asking about turning water into wine and walking on water, and other miracles. His questions begin to create contradictions as an increasingly frustrated Brady attempts to answer in greater detail. Eventually Drummond gets the answer he wants, Brady throws his hands up and cries ignorance. Drummond has proved his point: no one can confirm biblical events, and a law attempting to do so will create a multitude of problems concerning interpretation. Despite a compelling case, one that leaves Brady visibly shaken, thanks to the stress, his age, weight and the crippling heat of the courtroom, the jury finds Cates guilty. However they impose a lenient fine, prompting a last gasp from Brady, before he drops dead from exertion. As the courtroom dismisses, Drummond and Hornbeck share a moment, each offering their thoughts on Brady; Drummond says he was “once a great man”, while Hornbeck is less kind, referring to the cause of death as a “busted belly”, broke by too much hot air. Despite the verdict, Drummond knows he has won, and the film definitely plays towards a victory for progressive thought, and a criticism towards religious bigotry and relative simple mindedness. In addition to its significant subject matter, the film also is celebrated for its two lead performances. Spencer Tracy and Fredric March were two long time veterans of Hollywood and Broadway, in an odd coincidence, both men had even portrayed the title roles in different film versions of “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde”, and their performances here are typically impressive. The film was nominated for only four Academy Awards, Fredric March (whom I consider the more impressive of the two in this film) was not even nominated, nor was the picture or Stanley Kramer’s skilled direction. No matter though, the film has achieved its status as an American classic, one that is still relevant today.