Friday, January 19, 2007

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.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Forbidden Planet

Throughout the golden age of Hollywood, MGM was the studio most known for putting the “dream” in the term “dream factory. Famous for their splashy, colorful musicals, and rousing adventure pictures, MGM is also responsible for one of the classic films of the science fiction genre, which boomed in the 1950’s. Fueled by America’s “space race” with the USSR and the scary possibilities of atomic weapons, science fiction films became very popular, tapping into the public’s fear and fascination. “Forbidden Planet”, released in 1956, is regarded today as one of the smartest science fiction films of its time, thanks mostly to a dignified lead performance by Walter Pidgeon. Most of the sci fi films of the 1950’s, such as “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”, involved humans coming into contact with aliens, either on Earth, or through space exploration, and the results were rarely peaceful. This ingrained equation of aliens equal bad was a trope Spielberg played with in his 1977 film “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”, and he can look to the films of the 1950’s for giving that film its power and emotion. “Forbidden Planet” was different, even though its plot sounds familiar (a crew is sent to investigate the disappearance of another crew some twenty years before on a small, distant planet), the film features an ingenious script, which incorporates elaborate themes of philosophy, an unconventional antagonist, and a unique setting (the distant planet, Altair-5, filled with incredible technology, wild animals, and two humans), and introduces audiences to arguably the biggest star of the film, Robby the Robot. Recently released in a sparkling two disc special edition, “Forbidden Planet” is a brainy, fascinating science fiction adventure film, that does not rely on atomic fears (a giant monster emerging from the ocean), or interplanetary suspicions (are there men on the Moon that might mean us harm?), instead telling a strong story, with decent special effects and an interesting score comprised entirely of electronic tonal sounds.

As the film begins, Commander J.J. Adams and his crew come into orbit with Altair-5, a small planet where an exploration crew of scientists had been sent to years before, but have since ceased contact. Commander Adams makes contact with the enigmatic Dr. Morbius, who claims to be the sole survivor of the previous crew and who adamantly urges Adams not to land on the planet, ominously warning them of some unspecified danger. Adams, played with a cocky sense of bravado by Leslie Nielson(!), lands anyway and with two members of his crew is escorted to the home of Dr. Morbius by an incredible robot, named Robby (a creation so beloved, the character went on to appear in additional movies and television shows, most inexplicably an episode of “The Thin Man”!). Upon arriving, Morbius introduces his daughter, Altaira, the only other living resident of the planet. Morbius tells Commander Adams of a mysterious monster that killed the entire crew after a few weeks of their inhabitance on the planet. The monster was never seen, yet it tore the other crew members limb from limb. Soon Morbius and his young daughter were all that remained, and the monster mysteriously retreated, having not returned since. The threat is still ever present though, and Morbius demonstrates the elaborate safety measures he has taken with his house (despite taking place some 1,000 years in the future, his home decor looks remarkably 1950’s), remote controlled shields cover the windows and doors, and Robby himself serves as a potentially deadly, if otherwise benevolent, guard dog. A nagging feeling that Morbius is hiding something remains with Commander Adams as he returns to his ship, specifically the mysterious monster, and the incredible Robby, who can replicate any chemical compound after a few seconds of analysis, a scientific marvel that would take centuries to innovate, yet something Morbius completed, alone, in the span of a few years. Adams is skeptical of Morbius’ story, and plans on staying for a week to properly assess the situation; his other reason being his blossoming romance with the beautiful Altaira. After their ship is ransacked one evening and two of their men killed by an unseen force, Adams returns to Morbius’ home and demands more information on the monster.

Morbius instead reveals a subterranean layer of his home, which he explains belonged to an alien race known as the Krell, who lived several thousand years before. The Krell possessed an intellect exponentially greater than that of humans, their tools for measuring the amount of brain power being used barely registers a blip when tapped into Morbius. Limited by his relatively feeble brain capacity, Morbius experimented with one of their machines and after knocking himself unconscious for several days, awoke with an IQ several hundred points higher than it was previously, a change he immediately put to use, producing Robby. Now being able to comprehend more of their writings and instruments, Morbius discovered they were on the brink of their greatest discovery before they were entirely wiped out, he guesses by the same force that killed his crew. Adams demands that the tools be brought back to Earth for analysis, but Morbius forbids it, explaining that he alone can fully decipher the mystery of the Krell and expels Adams and his men from the compound, threatening the return of the monster if they do not leave immediately. Adams returns later with the help of Altaira and tries to plug into the same machine Morbius used to increase his IQ, but his first mate does so before he can and is immediately knocked out. He briefly comes to and issues a dire warning “monsters from the id”. Adams and Morbius realize that the monster is actually coming from his own sub-conscious, the desire for more power manifesting itself as an unstoppable monster. Morbius implores Adams to escape and take his daughter with him, remaining behind to blow the planet up, destroying the Krell’s deadly technology forever. The film ends with some philosophizing by Commander Adams, which would not sound so hokey if Leslie Nielson had not gone on to star in “The Naked Gun” and “Airplane!”, yet it perfectly encompasses the film’s ambitious breadth, of exploring a menace other than nuclear powered monsters or moon men/pod people. The film was regarded as a brainy space spectacle for its day, a tag that still applies today.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Yankee Doodle Dandy

James Cagney made a career out of playing tough guys and gangsters. His roles as Tom Powers and Cody Jarrett are classic cinematic portrayals. However the film James Cagney won his only competitive Academy Award for was a musical. Beginning his career on the Broadway stage Cagney was no stranger to song and dance, and while his legacy today is that of a tough guy, he was actually known throughout the 1930's for both types of roles, starring in frothy musicals such as "Footlight Parade" in tandem with the gangster films. Credited with kick starting the "biography" musical sub-genre of the 1940's, "Yankee Doodle Dandy" is the story of George M. Cohan, the flag waving vaudeville and stage star who wrote some of America's most patriotic anthems, such as "Over There" and "You're a Grand Old Flag". From his early career touring the country in vaudeville acts with his family, through his own superstar solo career playing opposite his wife, the film celebrates the life of the man, played to dynamic perfection by Cagney. In perhaps an even more curious move, the film is directed by Michael Curtiz, Warner Bros. jack of all trades, who in the years surrounding this backstage musical would also direct several war themed action films, a western, a period swashbuckler, a hybrid noir/"woman's picture" and a little film called "Casablanca". Never one to rest on his laurels, Curtiz was always eager to try new things, like his contemporaries Howard Hawks and William Wyler, and his range is truly incredible, especially compared with filmmakers of today. As solid as Curtiz' direction is (considering he had no musical background, the film has perfect pacing and staging), the film belongs to Cagney, whose magnetic performance illustrated the star's inherent charisma as well as any of his gangster roles. This feat did not go unnoticed at the time either, as Cangey was awarded Best Actor of 1942.

Told in flashback, the film's story is told by Cohan to Franklin Delano Roosevelt on a rainy night at the White House. FDR summons the star, at this time a longtime veteran just out of retirement and starring in a new show "I'd Rather Be Right", a comedy spoofing the country's politics of the time, and is instantly engaged by his energy, enthusiasm and compassion. Cohan tells "the head man" of his early days trooping with his family as "The Four Cohans" (and his apropos date of birth: July 4!), and his tough decision to leave the act when it became apparent George had the talent and ambition for bigger and better things (the scene where he talks his way into an early audition perfectly captures the smooth control Cangey had over the character, while demonstrating Cohan's drive and charismatic personality). A nice scene early on in his solo career shows his first meeting with Mary, his future wife; initially a star struck fan, eager to meet the old man who was captivating on stage, Mary is entirely unaware that the role was played by a 25 year old George. George tricks her for a little while, performing incredible gymnastic feats before revealing himself. Soon the two are married and George's career skyrockets, thanks to his passion for the country he calls home. Applying his talents towards the war effort, George writes several of his standards in the wake of World War I and becomes an American icon. However he quickly becomes disenchanted with showbusiness, int he waning days of vaudeville many acts found themselves being phased out, while few had acheived even a fraction of what Cohan had, and he simply retired, living a relaxed life in the country with his wife. A chance encounter with some young people who had never heard of him or his songs prompts Cohan out of retirement and in typical Cohan fashion, he writes, directs and stars in a new show, "I'd Rather Be Right", where he plays a bumbling president. Intending to spoof the political machines and not the man himself, Cohan is somewhat nervous when summoned into the Oval Office, but is humbled when he realizes he has been brought in to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor for his patriotic work during his illustrious career.

Touched deeply by the gesture by the president, Cohan literally dances down the steps of the White House, a remarkable feat considering the act is captured in one medium shot, with Cagney never once looking down. Cohan had never considered his songwriting anything more than doing his patriotic duty, he wrote songs that celebrated his country, inspired by tough times when he felt people needed to be cheered up. The overwhelming success of "Yankee Doodle Dandy" would inspire several other biographical musicals about songwriters, such as "Til The Clouds Roll By", "Three Little Words" and another Michael Curtiz effort, "Night and Day", about the great Cole Porter. None of these subsequent films could duplicate the success of "Yankee Doodle Dandy" for one obvious reason: they lacked a dynamic star presence like James Cagney, giving a tour de force performance. Great music is another thing the film has in its favor; Cohan's USA anthems are not the only famous songs the film utilizes, "Give My Regards to Broadway", "Forty Five Minutes From Broadway", "Mary" and the titular number all add to the film's longstanding appeal. The film ends perfectly, Cohan having received his medal, he thanks "the head man" the same way he famously thanked every audience he ever performed for with his family, saying "my father thanks you, my mother thanks you, my sister thanks you, and I thank you". Winner of two additional Academy Awards in addition to Cagney's slam dunk, the film was nominated for five others, including Best Director and Best Picture (oddly enough, that team, Michael Curtiz and Hal B. Wallis, would win the following year for "Casablanca"). Somewhat forgotten today because of Cagney's beign synonymous with the gangster genre, "Yankee Doodle Dandy" is a wonderful period musical well worth revisiting today.