I’ve just finished and uploaded a review of the Masters of Cinema Series Complete Fritz Lang Dr. Mabuse box at DVD Times and boy are my fingers tired.

It’s always nice to discover a previously unseen film with the power to surprise and enthrall you. Ernst Lubitsch is one of my favorite directors, easily on a short list of five or ten, but a lot of his movies aren’t available on DVD in R1. So while I’ve seen most of Lubitsch’s work after the silent era there are a couple that have still eluded me. Until now, one of those was Angel, the 1937 feature he made for Paramount starring Marlene Dietrich, Herbert Marshall, and Melvyn Douglas. I’d ordered the Universal R2 disc when it was released but one thing after another had postponed my watching of it. Despite Angel ranking at a healthy 518th in the most recent round-up of They Shoot Pictures Don’t They?’s list of the 1,000 greatest films, it’s flown well below the radar in my own experience. Some of this is no doubt attributable to Universal’s poor treatment of Lubitsch on R1 DVD, with only Design for Living currently available and Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife promised for release next month, both exclusive to sets designed around the films’ stars. An additional five Universal-controlled Lubitsch pictures have been licensed to Criterion, still leaving Angel and his drama Broken Lullaby unreleased in R1. My point here is that the lack of herald and general discussion for Angel has perhaps positioned it as just another Lubitsch film, but I’m now thinking it could perhaps be the director’s most uniquely successful work.

In some way, I guess I’d already imagined what sort of film Angel was given its director and screenwriter (Samson Raphaelson). I’ve seen their other collaborations and they’re all highly entertaining movies which tend to lighten the viewer’s mood on impact. This should be in the same general mold, I figured. Now I realize I was mistaken. Angel doesn’t lighten your mood. It manages to combine Lubitsch’s ability to ease the viewer into pleasant situational humor with a much darker tone favoring misdirection and ambiguity. Far from being the “failure” Scott Eyman calls the movie in his biography Ernst Lubitsch: Laughter in Paradise, Angel must be seen as a special case where the director relished the internal just as much as or even more than the external. Lubitsch films often masterfully show conflict above the surface, told with a wink and a smile as if to say that silly little diversions can tell us as much about ourselves as complex drama and tragedy. With Angel, Lubitsch seemed to largely leave behind these reassurances.

The film is short and plotted as beautifully as we’d expect, but what caught me off guard was how much gravity Lubitsch gives most every scene. Consider the intangible, feathery quality of the “Lubitsch Touch” in his other films and then look at how Angel manages to cherrypick aspects of that perceived lightness in terms of mood and feeling while still adding emotional weight, sometimes more for the viewer than even the characters. What results is a Lubitsch film that flies by yet unexpectedly devastates us, particularly in the third act. Some degree of seriousness wouldn’t come as a surprise because even the most frivolous of his pictures retain pockets of hidden truth about love or desire or wealth or power or whatever, but Angel impresses with its commitment to shed much of the comfort to which we’re accustomed. This is a piercing of the romantic comedy veil. There are moments of humor and of deep romanticism, but it’s not a romantic comedy. I have a problem with considering Angel a comedy of any sort. It feels airy but never insubstantial, and the tone, aided by a largely absent musical score, seems to also favor more serious ideas.

From the start, Lubitsch revels in establishing an air of mystery. The initial setting is Paris. Marlene Dietrich greets our eyes. Her actual identity is shrouded from the audience just as it is from Douglas’ character. That he meets her in some sort of high class escort service run by the remarkably poised grand duchess, played by Laura Hope Crews, would seem to indicate that Dietrich’s character is at least an interesting lady unafraid of creating secrets. Douglas is there at the recommendation of a military friend. I believe he’s supposed to be as British as Herbert Marshall, to whom we’re later introduced. The way these first few scenes play out could be described as deftly straddling the line between efficiency and confusion. While the situational seeds are certainly planted, the wheres, whos and whys are pretty much all left in the dark. Especially intriguing is that the film never seems to unnecessarily obscure the characters. Dietrich and Douglas meet by chance, make a date and are already on dessert by the time we next see them.

It’s her idea for the two to not exchange any information, including even their names. They next move to a park and a bench where they sit to talk. When she disappears into the night we see neither Dietrich’s exit nor Douglas’ reaction but the look of an older woman selling flowers to the after dark lovers of nightfall. It’s a bold choice to let the scene play out while focused on a largely inconsequential character who appears just once. A similar stray from the obvious occurs later in the film when Douglas is about to make a mental connection as to who Dietrich, his beloved Angel, really is and the camera impolitely abandons his quest entirely. Over and over again, from these two instances of chasing the viewer’s eye away from where it typically should be to the conviction Dietrich shows in denying her past encounter with Douglas then returning again to her behavior in the final scene with Marshall, Angel almost always opts for the unexpected path. It’s simply never the film for which the viewer has been trained.

Since I’d unintentionally dismissed the film sight unseen for months now, my view is that this degree of uniqueness found in Angel is quite welcome indeed. I would never tire of watching a great Lubitsch comedy, but realizing, without any doubt, that he had the ability to more or less subvert the happy cynicism seen in Trouble for Paradise, Design for Living, Cluny Brown, etc. was a revelation. The depth of Angel and its insistence on pitting a half-lonely marriage first against an (apparently) unconsummated fling and, then, itself impressed me a great deal. There’s nothing else I’ve seen from Lubitsch which so boldly tackled the reality of love and its sadnesses. The ending here possibly feels out of place in its seeming neatness, but what of the other party? Isn’t the final shot just another example of withholding the reaction we want and expect? Instead of the quote-unquote loser of the ordeal, we see the perfunctory happiness which very well might be temporary. That there are three main characters ensures that at least someone will be left wanting, thus exploding the entire idea of the happy ending entirely. The characters are carefully positioned as being likable in basically equal amounts so any resolution can only be viewed as, at best, bittersweet. At a time when screwball comedies ruled the day, Lubitsch went for a more delicate and resonant tone.

Interesting selection on Monday and a great Lillian Gish tribute on Wednesday make for a strong week. As always all times are EDT and program days begin at 6:00 AM.

Saturday October 10

4:30 PM Sirocco (Bernhardt, 1951) - BW-98 mins. - On DVD in R1 from Sony but now out of print, this Humphrey Bogart starrer was based on a novel by Joseph Kessel, who also wrote the source material for Belle de jour and Melville’s Army of Shadows, and co-adapted for the screen by A.I. Bezzerides, screenwriter of On Dangerous Ground. Bogart plays an American expatriate in the 1920s who becomes involved in gun-running for the Syrians in their fight against the French occupation. Lee J. Cobb and Everett Sloane are among the supporting cast.

12:15 AM Dr. Socrates (Dieterle, 1935) - BW-70 mins. - Paul Muni all night this evening. He’s reunited with Scarface co-star Ann Dvorak in this crime drama from writer W.R. Burnett. Muni plays a doctor forced by gangsters to provide medical treatment. Barton MacLane is the ring leader and Mayo Methot plays his moll. This looks to be one of those quick little gangster pictures Warner Bros. was so good at churning out at the time. It’s not on DVD. Seemed like a good candidate for entry in a Gangsters Collection before the studio gave up on releasing box sets. The Story of Louis Pasteur follows at 1:30 AM.

Sunday October 11

2:30 AM Ecstasy (Machaty, 1933) - BW-87 mins. - Scandalous! Hedy Lamarr (using her given name Hedy Kiesler) caused an international uproar when she appeared nude in this film. It certainly got her noticed, but she still wouldn’t make another picture until 1938’s Algiers. The Vienna-born Lamarr plays a frustrated wife in Ecstasy, which is actually considered to be a Czech film. I’ve tried watching it before but found it tough going filmwise. A DVD is available in R1 from Image (and it has a stunning cover). Those in the New York City area will soon have the opportunity to get a better look at Hedy, on the big screen, when the film shows at the Film Society of Lincoln Center on October 25.

Monday October 12

6:45 AM Five Golden Hours (Zampi, 1960) - BW-90 mins. - An Ernie Kovacs-Cyd Charisse pairing sounds pleasant enough. He’s a con artist specializing in rich widows and she’s, yep, a rich widow. The catch is that her baroness character isn’t quite so innocent. George Sanders does what he does in support. Chris Challis was director of photography. The releasing studio was Columbia, though it’s not on DVD from what I can tell.

6:00 PM The Appointment (Lumet, 1969) - C-115 mins. - TCM rolls on today with a nice tribute to Anouk Aimée. Fellini’s masterful 8½ plays at 1:45 PM in a rare afternoon showing of a foreign language film. It’s followed by Model Shop and this unheralded Sidney Lumet feature. If you noticed my signed Dog Day Afternoon sleeve I posted last week, it won’t come as a surprise that I’m a Lumet fan. He still has a surprising number of films unavailable on R1 DVD, including this picture which also stars Omar Sharif. The two leads play a married couple in Rome. Sharif’s character suspects his wife is spending her free time as a high end prostitute. Doesn’t sound like your typical Sidney Lumet film, though his versatility is sometimes taken for granted. MGM released theatrically, giving Warner Bros. the rights now. It’s not available on DVD.

8:00 PM The Man Who Understood Women (Johnson, 1959) - C-105 mins. - Romain Gary, who’d marry Jean Seberg in 1962 and later write the story on which Sam Fuller’s White Dog is based, had his novel adapted by writer/director Nunnally Johnson for this film. It sounds fascinating. Henry Fonda stars as a Hollywood producer trying to turn wife Leslie Caron into a major sex symbol. She becomes so disenchanted with the whole thing that she leaves him and the business to go back to France, where she also finds another man. Especially intriguing is that the Fonda character in Gary’s book was apparently modeled after Orson Welles (married, of course, to Rita Hayworth at one time). That Gary went on to marry and then direct Seberg before the two divorced also makes for a sad coda to the story. The film was made by Fox, and isn’t on DVD.

Tuesday October 13

10:00 PM Escape Me Never (Godfrey, 1947) - BW-104 mins. - Lucky Errol Flynn gets paired with Ida Lupino and Eleanor Parker in this romantic drama. He’s a composer in Venice who’s engaged to Parker but falls for Lupino, who herself is engaged to Flynn’s brother (Gig Young). The film was made by Warner Bros. and is not on DVD. Flynn pops up again in the Raoul Walsh-directed Northern Pursuit at midnight.

Wednesday October 14

9:15 AM La Boheme (Vidor, 1926) - BW-94 mins. - Lillian Gish was born on this day in 1893. TCM honors the screen legend with seven films on the daytime schedule. She’s paired with John Gilbert in this King Vidor silent about a romance in Paris in the 1830s. He’s an artist and she’s a seamstress, both struggling to make ends meet. Looking forward to this one. It was MGM but now should be in the hands of Warner Bros. Nothing on the DVD front. The Scarlet Letter follows at 11:00 AM.

12:45 PM The Wind (Sjostrom, 1928) - BW-82 mins. - TCM aired this a couple of years ago and I don’t think it’s been on since. It’s truly a masterpiece of silent cinema, and Warner Bros. should be embarrassed at not having yet released a DVD version. Gish plays a somewhat fragile young woman who moves to Texas and faces a tumultous series of events. If you have any interest at all, try to make time for this one. It remains an incredibly affecting film. MGM was the original studio.

Thursday October 15

6:15 AM Parole Girl (Cline, 1933) - BW-68 mins. - Good to see a pre-Code Mae Clarke picture pop up on the schedule. Information is sparse, but it seems to be a drama where she’s paroled from prison for a crime she didn’t even commit. Edward Cline, who also did The Bank Dick, directed. Ralph Bellamy gets the male lead. Made for Columbia, the film hasn’t been put on DVD.

Home to some of the best films in the world as well as some of the finest DVD (and now Blu-ray) editions ever created, the Criterion Collection is beloved by most anyone who takes their movies seriously enough to have not just a few discs lying around the home but a cinematic “library” ready for any mood or occasion. Criterion clearly puts an enormous amount of thought and effort into its releases from top to bottom. The particular films chosen are important but so are the supplements which accompany them and the overall presentation of each edition. It’s often the cover art which gives us the initial impression of a Criterion release. Unlike Warner Bros. and Eureka’s Masters of Cinema Series, both of which typically try to use original poster art or some variation of such, Criterion tends to create new designs as part of tying the specific release with the film (though some of my favorite Criterion covers do derive from the film’s poster).

After noticing yesterday that a truly lackluster cover for the forthcoming release of Arnaud Desplechin’s A Christmas Tale had been abandoned for a far more pleasing alternative, I started to think about which Criterion covers were my favorites. My preference seems to be for the drawn ones rather than covers using film stills. I think I also preferred Criterion’s artwork prior to the rebranding two years ago. Regardless, narrowing it down to just 12 covers wasn’t as easy as I’d expected and I had to leave out some like Diabolique, Charade and The Red Shoes which are early, simple designs but nonetheless perfect in my eyes. The sepia-toned still of Jean Gabin on La Bête Humaine and the covers for Jules Dassin’s Thieves’ Highway and Night and the City also fell just short.

Here are the dozen I chose as favorites, in spine-numbered order because when you’re talking Criterion that’s how it’s done:

M (Lang, 1931)

Mon Oncle (Tati, 1958)

Sullivan's Travels (Sturges, 1942)

 

In the Mood for Love (Wong, 2000)

The Royal Tenenbaums (Anderson, 2001)

Le Corbeau (Clouzot, 1943)

Eyes Without a Face (Franju, 1960)

Divorce Italian Style (Germi, 1961)

Heaven Can Wait (Lubitsch, 1943)

Boudu Saved from Drowning (Renoir, 1932)

Harakiri (Kobayashi, 1962)

The Furies (Mann, 1950)

While usually steeped in the anxiety which met and followed World War II, film noir can, on rare occasions, take place prior to the 20th century. There are a few examples set during the Victorian period (with John Brahm’s Hangover Square being a particular standout), but, otherwise, the only director I’m aware of who was able to effectively turn back the clock with noir was Anthony Mann and he did it twice. The first, Reign of Terror (aka The Black Book) involves Robespierre and is set during the French Revolution. It’s a stunning example of moving beyond the seeming limitations of noir while still creating one of the truly frightening pictures in the cycle. John Alton’s camera was perhaps never more effective. Two years later came Mann’s The Tall Target, a film noir set on a train and starring Dick Powell as a man (named, I promise, John Kennedy) intent on preventing a conspiratorial plot to assassinate Abraham Lincoln on his way to the 1861 inauguration. The Tall Target is inferior to Reign of Terror, but it does maintain that very specific atmosphere of tension and immediacy so native to noir. The cinematography, here by Paul C. Vogel, is more black and not quite black than black and white.

The Tall Target tracks the determined Kennedy as he makes his way via train from New York to Baltimore. Prior to boarding, he relinquishes his police badge because no one seems to believe his theory that the president-elect is in danger. Kennedy thus becomes a lone wolf, without any authority or help. He also slides comfortably into the Hitchcock mold of the protagonist who faces one difficulty after another in the course of having to establish his innocence when falsely accused. Indeed, there’s much here to associate with the master of suspense as Mann presents the character as a very solitary figure. He does so using the confined spaces of that most cinematic of transportation - the train. The suspense isn’t on par with a Hitchcock picture, this being a 78-minute B-movie and all, and Mann doesn’t bleed that facet as much as, say, Richard Fleischer did in The Narrow Margin, but the few opportunities which arise are hardly wasted. A gun to Kennedy’s back while walking through the train reveals how adept Mann was at making the small seem large.

Even better is a scene where Kennedy is struggling with an impostor near the tracks while the train is stopped but about to resume movement. It’s lit so that darkness and steam obscure the faces almost to the point where the viewer struggles to see who’s positioned where. As the two men struggle, Adolphe Menjou’s Colonel Jeffers blindly fires a shot. This is the first time Jeffers is seen using a gun. The second is equally memorable, and probably even more shocking. Having Menjou, an actor whose screen presence is rarely sympathetic and someone whose actions away from the movies could easily be regarded as despicable, play a character of questionable trustworthiness proved to be a wise choice. He oozes cowardice. Overall, The Tall Target has believability issues, where things that happen seem implausible and reason often falls by the wayside. With Menjou, however, his inherent and almost oblivious sliminess entirely rings true for Colonel Jeffers. The variety of secessionists we meet are treated with almost comedic loathing by Mann. Appropriately, none show any appreciation for being on the wrong side of history. They come across as the 1861 version of teabaggers.

Beyond politics, The Tall Target has time on its side. Part of Mann’s genius in approaching both the French Revolution in Reign of Terror and this semi-factual footnote of history is that the setting becomes incidental. Here, the 1861 time period and the knowledge that Abraham Lincoln is involved do ground the events depicted to a point, but the other aspects of the plot are versatile enough to extend beyond the specifics. Dick Powell trying to stop a political assassination while on a train works for 1861 or 1951, the year of the film’s release. Nothing necessarily limits the action to that period of time. The extra wrinkle of slavery allows Ruby Dee, making the most of her short amount of screen time, the rare opportunity of having a role of some significance. Other than Powell and perhaps Menjou, Dee glows the brightest. Actually, I’ve never found Powell to have a very compelling screen presence in noir, but we are at least able to recognize some of the drive of his character in this film.

It’s probably not Powell or Dee or Menjou or even Abe Lincoln who weighs heaviest on the viewer. The most striking part of such a lean film is how it’s delivered via Mann’s direction and the cinematography (reminiscent of John Alton’s work but actually done by Paul C. Vogel). Unexpected close-ups, usually of Powell, become impactful. The pitch black darkness and steam from the train combine to hide what must have been a low budget film while strongly evoking German Expressionism’s mood of despair. It’s the visuals in The Tall Target that elevate the picture beyond being a simple suspense thriller set on a train. Anthony Mann was one of the key directors of film noir and this was his last effort in that vein. It’s not necessarily among his two or three best really, but the movie is still highly entertaining at times and a strong example of teasing out a story within an enclosed space.

The Warner Archive gets its tentacles on another much-anticipated film by finally bringing The Tall Target to R1 home viewers. That it’s a DVD-R with no additional restoration or extra features, and at a price point just below $20, must be seen as a disappointment to fans of Anthony Mann and/or film noir. Good for us that the progressive transfer isn’t too bad at all. The 1.33:1 image displays frequent speckles of dirt and a stray reel change marker but detail is probably as good as one could hope for from this service. A higher bitrate (on a dual-layered disc) would have likely removed much of the noise and artifacting. The blacks, an essential component here, generally still register as being deep and inky enough.

An English mono track is fair but seems to lose strength in the final third or so of the picture. At one point, Powell whispers and since there aren’t any subtitles offered, the volume has to be raised to understand what he’s saying. The score makes little impact so only the dialogue proves essential. Other than the up and down of the volume, things can be heard cleanly.

Only a trailer (2:15) is offered in the extras department.

The write-ups are on the brief side this week, but it’s a good enough set of picks overall. Lots of stuff from the thirties and forties and even a silent. Speaking of silents, I reviewed Sunrise at DVD Times, the new Masters of Cinema Blu-ray edition, and I put a lot of time into it. Maybe it was worth the effort, perhaps not, but it’s there if anyone would like to read it. TCM is here for us too. As always, all times are EDT and program days begin at 6:00 AM.

Sunday October 4

6:15 AM The Beast with Five Fingers (Florey, 1946) - BW-89 mins. - October brings Halloween and an emphasis on the scary, suspenseful, thrilling, horror sort of movies. My interest in these pictures, the classic varieties at least, has slowly increased over the years. The Beast with Five Fingers involves the hand of a pianist (Robert Alda) which somehow survives the body’s death and goes out on its own in search of vengeance. Anything with Peter Lorre, who stars, is usually worthwhile. Warner Bros. was the studio behind this film. I don’t believe it has a DVD release.

12:00 AM Tell It to the Marines (Hill, 1926) - BW-103 mins. - Lon Chaney is a drill sergeant in the U.S. Marines who faces off against a particularly troublesome new recruit, played by William Haines. Complicating matters further, the two men share a common interest in the same woman (Eleanor Boardman). Director George Hill later did the still potent prison movie The Big House. Chaney, the famed “man of a thousand faces,” apparently wore no make-up for his role. This silent was done for MGM and should now be with Warner Bros. It’s unreleased on DVD. Two Jean Renoir pictures follow, with La bête humaine airing at 2:00 AM and The Southerner at 4:00 AM.

Monday October 5

6:00 AM The Whistler (Castle, 1944) - BW-60 mins. - “Whistlin’ Monday” begins with the first film in the Whistler series, directed by low-budget horror man William Castle. The intriguing plot has Richard Dix as a man in such despair from his wife’s death that he get another man to hire an assassin (J. Carrol Naish) to kill him (Dix). The uh-oh comes when the wife turns up alive but Dix can’t call off the hit. Gloria Stuart is the female lead, Dix’s secretary. Six more of these Whistler films follow today, with three Red Skelton “Whistling in … ” movies airing afterward. None of these are on DVD (in R1 at least)  and all were released by Columbia.

1:15 AM Lili (Walters, 1953) - C-81 mins. - Star of the Month for October is Leslie Caron and TCM brings out the heavy (and musical) hitters on night one with Best Picture winners An American in Paris (Caron’s debut) and Gigi. Also on tap is Caron’s Oscar-nominated performance as a French orphan who befriends puppets. I’ve read lots of good things about this film - and I also mentioned it back in March - but haven’t seen it. Definitely will be making an effort this time. Director Charles Walters was also recognized by the Academy with a nomination. Mel Ferrer co-stars. It’s now in Warner Bros.’ hands via MGM, but not released on DVD.

Tuesday October 6

9:15 AM Brief Moment (Burton, 1933) - BW-69 mins. - Tuesday looks to be my favorite day of the week on TCM as it’s full of lighthearted thirties comedies, including three with Carole Lombard. Here she’s a nightclub singer who marries a rich playboy (Gene Raymond). I’ve been waiting for more of the hard-to-see Lombard films to air since she was Star of the Month a full year ago. Sony controls this one. There should be enough Columbia films for a Lombard DVD box set but I’m not holding my breath just yet. Lady by Choice, which TCM has aired two or three times this year, follows.

12:00 PM In Name Only (Cromwell, 1939) - BW-95 mins. - Cary Grant is married to Kay Francis but wants a divorce so he can marry widow Carole Lombard. Francis gets the villain part. Also with Charles Coburn, the film was made for RKO and did get a VHS release. I guess the R1 rights are now with Warner Bros., but nothing has come along DVD-wise. Manga Films put out a (R2) disc in Spain. Kay Francis joins Ronald Colman in Raffles at 2:00 PM before re-treaming a couple of years later on …

3:30 PM Cynara (Vidor, 1932) - BW-78 mins. - Colman is an English barrister who succumbs to temptation in the form of shop girl Phyllis Barry while wife Kay Francis is away. After years of fidelity, the affair is just a fling to him but more to the younger woman. King Vidor directed for the Samuel Goldwyn Company. IMDb has United Artists as theatrical distributor so MGM might now control in R1, though I can’t be sure. The film isn’t available on DVD.

Wednesday October 7

10:00 AM Yolanda and the Thief (Minnelli, 1945) - C-108 mins. - This seems like the sort of film deserving of a DVD release. Vincente Minnelli directed, Arthur Freed produced, and Fred Astaire was the lead. He plays a con man in a fictional Latin American country who poses as the guardian angel of rich girl Yolanda (Lucille Bremer). Technicolor MGM musical. Warner Bros. controls the rights.

Thursday October 8

2:15 AM Girls of the Road (Grinde, 1940) - BW-60 mins. - I’m really interested in the Depression-centered films TCM will be showing on Thursdays this month. Several have made their way to DVD by now, including the first four pictures shown tonight, but this short, largely unseen B-movie is a rarity. It stars Ann Dvorak (Paul Muni’s sister in Scarface) as a governor’s daughter whose social consciousness compels her to assume the life of a runaway. Along the way, she meets girls with nothing to fall back on. Columbia released theatrically. Black Moon, a voodoo horror picture starring Fay Wray, airs next at 3:30 AM.

4:45 AM The Missing Juror (Boetticher, 1944) - BW-66 mins. - TCM has been good about showing Budd Boetticher’s early B-picture crime dramas lately and this is one of his earliest. The plot has jurors in a big murder case being murdered one by one and a detective out to stop the killer. Judging by the film’s title, there’s probably an unaccounted for juror in the mix. This is another Columbia picture unreleased by Sony.

Everything about this one is more or less ideal. The signed DVD cover had plenty of white space for a signature. The film itself is superb and also one of Lumet’s finest (probably bested only by 12 Angry Men for me). Having it signed was a nearly perfect and painless experience. There are no problems with the signature and it isn’t abnormally messy. Lumet even added a “Thank you” above it. So I could hardly be happier about the whole thing.

Have a look:

So my copy of Warner Bros.’ Wagon Master release just arrived and it’s immediately obvious that the case is very light. I open it up and there are large holes in the plastic - eco-friendly packaging. Saving the environment is great, but I don’t think this is the way to do it. Another check mark against the WB in what has been a truly disappointing year. On the plus side, I like that the spine on Wagon Master incorporates the colors from the cover art instead of being a solid color (often black) like the studio has done the last couple of years. Great artwork on the front too. I’m also pleased with TCM’s schedule this week, with several lesser known movies slipping in. As always, all times are EDT and program days begin at 6:00 AM.

Saturday September 26

12:00 AM Genghis Khan (Levin, 1965) - C-126 mins. - If you’ve already watched the nearly four hours of Ben-Hur which precede this showing, here’s a chance to see star of the night Stephen Boyd in yet another historical epic. Omar Sharif is the man who would be Khan while his noticeably light-skinned co-stars include James Mason, Eli Wallach and Telly Savalas. The woman at the center of things was played by Françoise Dorléac, who would be seen the following year in Polanski’s Cul-de-sac. The Yugoslavian-shot Genghis Khan was distributed by Columbia. Sony presumably has the rights now, though it’s not available on DVD in R1. I see an edition can be had from Spain.

Monday September 28

11:45 PM See No Evil (Fleischer, 1971) - C-89 mins. - Listed at IMDb as Blind Terror (the UK title and a better one, in my opinion), this Richard Fleischer-directed thriller stars Mia Farrow as a blind woman who returns to her country home not realizing that there’s a house full of corpses. Elmer Bernstein did the score. Anything halfway curious-sounding from Fleischer I tend to mention (and usually watch) so this has my attention. It’s Columbia and was on DVD in R1, but is now out of print and fetching high prices through third party sellers at Amazon. There’s also an R2 disc in the UK.

1:30 AM A Dandy in Aspic (Mann, Harvey, 1968) - C-107 mins. - Unfortunately, it’s morbid curiosity that’s responsible for most of the interest in this film. Director Anthony Mann died of a heart attack during production and had to be replaced by a largely in over his head Laurence Harvey, also the star of the picture. I haven’t seen it but most of the reaction I’ve read hasn’t been very positive. The plot sounds promising, with Harvey as a British spy assigned to kill a Russian agent despite Harvey’s character being the only one who realizes the two men are one and the same. One of my favorites, Tom Courtenay, is second-billed while Mia Farrow, Harry Andrews and Peter Cook help round out the cast. The score was done by Quincy Jones. This too was made for Columbia Pictures and hasn’t been released on DVD in R1. Sony did put it out in the UK.

Tuesday September 29

6:00 AM Blossoms in the Dust (LeRoy, 1941) - C-100 mins. - This was released on DVD by Warner Bros. last year in the Classic Holiday Collection Vol. 2 set, but I don’t have that nor do I really want it. For some reason, Netflix doesn’t seem to carry Blossoms in the Dust so I’ve been waiting for TCM to show the film again (it was an Oscar nominee for Best Picture) and I’m glad the channel is obliging. Greer Garson, who also received Academy recognition for her performance and who’s in all of the films airing during the day, stars as a real-life champion of orphans’ rights in Texas. Walter Pidgeon plays her husband.

10:00 PM The Road Builder (Reid, 1971) - C-96 mins. - Adapted for the screen by Roald Dahl, this one has his wife Patricia Neal as the lead in a story about a drifter who becomes a handyman for a spinster, leaving the film room for the exploration of various sexual and psychological undercurrents. It’s also known, perhaps more popularly, as The Night Digger. The picture is airing on TCM as the final night of a monthlong tribue to composer Bernard Herrmann and I’m anxious to catch it. Looks like MGM released originally, probably giving Warner Bros. the rights, though there isn’t a DVD out in R1. Weird how the rating listed at IMDb is “X” in the UK and “R” in the U.S. but only “TV-PG” now. Progress, I suppose.

12:00 AM Obsession (De Palma, 1976) - C-98 mins. - Another Bernard Herrmann score follows, in Brian De Palma’s Hitchcock-inspired (Vertigo, to be specific) tale of a man (Cliff Robertson) taken with the woman who looks like just like his murdered wife (Genevieve Bujold). De Palma’s films have never done anything for me but I can’t remember ever watching this one and the R1 DVD from Sony is - surprise - out of print and now very expensive to obtain. Paul Schrader’s presence as screenwriter on Obsession also perks me up. His most famous piece of writing, Taxi Driver (also with Hermann’s last score), follows at 2:00 AM.

Wednesday September 30

8:30 AM The Green Years (Saville, 1946) - BW-125 mins. - I’ve grown fond of Charles Coburn after seeing a couple of his comedic performances so here’s a presuambly good example of the actor’s more serious side. He was Oscar-nominated for playing a Scottish grandfather who raises an orphaned Irish boy. Dean Stockwell plays the boy as a youth. It’s easy to forget how great and long-lasting a career Stockwell has had. He doesn’t get enough attention. The cast also includes the real-life married couple Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy, with the latter actually in the role of the former’s daughter! The Green Years hasn’t made it to DVD yet. Having been done for MGM, it should now be a Warner Bros. property.

10:00 PM Twilight of Honor (Sagal, 1963) - BW-104 mins. - The, er, reign of Claude Rains as Star of the Month comes to a close tonight. Some nice and noirish films are on tap, including They Won’t Forget, the Warner Archive-d The Unsuspected, and the solid Where Danger Lives where Rains has just one scene but still makes a strong impact. There’s also this legal drama starring a Kildare-era Richard Chamberlain as a lawyer who must defend client Nick Adams, in an Oscar-nominated turn. (It was Rains’ next-to-last film to be released, coming two years before The Greatest Story Ever Told.) It was an MGM production, now probably controlled by Warner Bros. and not on DVD.

Thursday October 1

8:00 AM Nora Prentiss (Sherman, 1947) - BW-112 mins. - Melodrama noir starring Ann Sheridan and recently relegated to the Warner Archive treatment by the magnificent WB. Sheridan is a night club singer mildly injured and treated by married doctor Kent Smith. The doc falls head over heels and wants to be with Sheridan by any means necessary, causing super problems for both. Robert Alda and Bruce Bennett head the supporting cast. Behind the scenes, Franz Waxman composed and the incomparable James Wong Howe was cinematographer. It’s a full Warner Bros. picture and it should be, in a just world, available widely on a real, pressed disc.

Friday October 2

3:30 AM The Wild Party (Horner, 1956) - BW-82 mins. - TCM’s regular dose of sleaze and cheese on the Friday night Underground continues with this Anthony Quinn starrer about an ex-football player who becomes part of a “wild party” and gets involved in kidnapping and extortion. Kathryn Grant (future wife of Bing Crosby) plays the teenager Honey. This was the last feature directed by Horner, whose other pictures haven’t impressed me but who had a better career as a production designer on films like The Hustler and Walter Hill’s The Driver. United Artists released The Wild Party in cinemas and it’s not on DVD in R1. The rights are likely to be with MGM.

Otto Preminger’s 1953 light drama The Moon Is Blue, when remembered at all, is usually recognized as being the first post-Code Hollywood film where the word “virgin” is uttered and there may be some vague association with other censorship battles beyond that single word (which is said several times). Dig deeper to find out that “seduce” and “mistress,” in the sexual use of the word, also were first heard by American moviegoing audiences in the film. Further still, and you’ll realize that The Moon Is Blue was a landmark both on the way to the films over a decade later which effectively toned down Hollywood censorship and the rise of creative freedom for the director. Not only did Preminger’s production find commercial success without attaining the seemingly requisite approval of the Production Code and the Catholic Legion of Decency, but it also made the filmmaker quite a wealthy man, after he contracted for a large percentage of the profits. Preminger caught on quickly and kept challenging the established standards of what could and could not be said and portrayed in his films later in the decade like The Man with the Golden Arm and Anatomy of a Murder. There are those who enjoy reducing much of Otto Preminger’s work in the fifties to just being controversial and having little interest to modern audiences who’ve presumably outgrown Eisenhower-era titillation, but I’m not quite sure they fully appreciate the director.

The Moon Is Blue is unfortunately easy to dismiss in a time when you see and hear much more provocative things on American television commercials than anything that would have been considered so indecent as to be unacceptable for the ticket-buying masses of the fifties. Viewers new to the film probably won’t find it very shocking, but I think this might actually be in Preminger’s favor. The movie is ultimately one about a young woman (Maggie McNamara) who’s a chatty little creature and has no problem telling William Holden’s architect character that she’s a virgin and intends to stay that way. Based on a hit Broadway play and remaining true to that inherent theatricality without ever feeling too enclosed due to Preminger’s typically fluid camera movements, The Moon Is Blue wittily explores the idea of a woman’s virtue beyond mere abstinence. Its level of daring is far more considerable than how we might now single out the first utterance of a word or two or the lack of a watchdog’s seal of approval. Those things are external factors which ideally shouldn’t affect how the content of the film is perceived today. You can watch an important film merely because of its notoriety or you can experience it as a living, breathing thing forever in flux to changing moods and standards.

The basically comprehensive control Preminger had over the production seems to be far more interesting and important than the smaller barriers broken by its content. Prior to John Cassavetes, it was Otto Preminger who was laying the foundation for independent cinema in America, even if he probably didn’t realize it at the time. Otto had been essentially beholden to the whims of Zanuck and company at Fox for his whole career so his liberation into, first, Angel Face at RKO and then this film, which was distributed by United Artists, must have been incredibly freeing. He still had some commitments at Fox, but The Moon Is Blue was a true breath of independence and control for the director. The film, with its obvious debts to the play’s stagebound interactions on just a couple of sets and heavy amount of dialogue, might not immediately reveal itself as a vehicle for a newly unleashed Preminger, but if you look closer I think there’s a bit more here than just a few surprising words and an interesting romantic triangle. The director’s remarkable ability to explore elegant and sophisticated relationships among adults (and he’d done it so effectively at Fox in films like Daisy Kenyon, The Fan, and Laura) is completely on target in this film. His insinuation of false ideals through a society riddled with decrepit imperfection was perhaps never stronger.

Bringing to mind an odd cross between Jean Simmons and Audrey Hepburn with maybe just a touch of Jennifer Jones, McNamara gives her chatty Patty a sense of poignancy and realism usually found more on the stage than in film. The Moon Is Blue could easily slip into screwball territory but it doesn’t in Preminger’s hands. His determination to keep things grounded is one of the tipping points in the film’s favor. We see Patty as being somewhat kooky but still with a real heart. Later in the film when Holden’s Donald Gresham confronts her with the criticism that she’s a “professional virgin” and the added emphasis that those who advertise do so because they have something to sell, it’s at least a quasi-profound moment. McNamara has the lightness aspect of her character down but scenes like this one show she also imbued Patty with something a touch more serious. The film overall is definitely in a lighter vein, mixing drama and comedy seamlessly and almost as a precursor to a picture like Billy Wilder’s The Apartment, but the darker aspects slip up on the viewer. Patty’s agreeable demeanor in dealing with both Donald and upstairs neighbor David Slater, played by David Niven, subtly reveals a desire for happiness and the way she’s assigned this lifetime’s worth of hope to her own virginity. Surely the sadness in that theory is obvious.

It isn’t that Patty seems to outright reject sex. But she does view it more as a necessary evil, a means to an end, than the frequently romanticized reading you’ll otherwise find in Hollywood movies. To give Preminger some credit, I think he’s knowingly presenting chastity as a point of impossible compromise. Patty, without provocation, tells men she doesn’t want sex from them as a means of preventing complication, but the conversation then turns almost exclusively to sex, and some of that steering is even done directly by her. She’s, again, unintentionally embracing the role of the “professional virgin.” Her flirtation with and ultimate rejection of Slater’s marriage proposal is done with a sweetness that belies any considerations of sex beyond being a necessity for survival. She doesn’t dismiss Slater because of the idea that he’d be the one with whom she’d lie beside in bed at night so much as because she knows he’d treat her like an accessory or, even worse, a piece of property. Slater’s comment referencing the seemingly well-intentioned gift of $600 near the film’s end seals it for Patty. She’d previously idealized her virginity as a bargaining tool for gaining a rich husband, but now when actually faced with that exact situation Patty seems to realize the hollowness of the whole thing.

That Preminger and writer F. Hugh Herbert cloak such ponderous and sober ideas on sexual politics into a light, jaunty movie may come as a surprise to those looking for, well, something else - either a more risque affair or a jokier one in the Lubitsch vein. (And this might be the closest Preminger ever came to attaining Lubitsch’s tonal lightness mixed with heavily adult themes.) The dialogue in The Moon Is Blue is really where much of the energy is placed, making for a verbal onslaught chaining the film to its stage origins but also, with the aid of strong acting, reminding the audience of how satisfying good conversation can be to hear and watch. There’s so much talking that it’s not surprising some of it does fall flat, with little of the wit you might get in a Lubitsch picture, but I found it far more charming than pretentious. Having a genuine affection for the time and place seen in The Moon Is Blue probably helps. Maybe the film has come full cycle from being daring before it was harmless and now it’s powered by a nostalgia for something that might have only existed in the movies in the first place. Regardless, I enjoyed it a great deal.

Preminger’s film was originally released by United Artists in cinemas, and I didn’t realize that Warner Bros. even controlled the rights until it popped up one day as a title in the burn-on-demand Warner Archive. (The film is still unreleased on DVD in the UK.) I’ve weighed a few of the positives and negatives of the Warner Archive in previous reviews, but, just to quickly reiterate, the short of it is that a few hundred movies otherwise not available on R1 DVD can be had on the DVD-R format for $19.95 plus shipping (less with coupons) from the official Warner Archive site, if you live in the U.S. Most titles can also be obtained through Amazon.com and Movies Unlimited.

This single-layered DVD-R contains the film, progressively transferred, in the 1.33:1 aspect ratio. The absolute lack of any digital restoration or even modest improvement to a print filled with dirt, scratches, and reel change markers every twenty minutes is obvious. It’s frustrating to see how little care was put into the way this film looks. On the bright side, those wishing to pursue this release are probably lucky that the materials were in acceptable condition. When you get past the constant speckles flashing around the picture and the softness of the image, it doesn’t look too bad. Grain is present but not ridiculously heavy. I do think it’s worth complaining louder about the general griminess, which probably could’ve been made better with the sort of restoration work Warner Bros. does (or did) for its pressed DVD releases, when the price tag is taken into consideration. Don’t charge full price for an inferior product. It makes for a poor value to the consumer.

Audio presented no significant issues that I could hear. The English mono track has a very low hiss but nothing that should prove distracting. Dialogue is generally easy to make out and at a consistent volume. The poor practice of omitting both subtitles and closed captioning on Warner Archive titles continues here.

An original theatrical trailer (2:58) can be accessed upon inserting the disc (with the other option being to watch the film). Even if you don’t usually watch old trailers, this might be worth your time. It’s narrated by William Holden and includes an odd, funny sequence of a woman buying a ticket at a theater, entering at what seems to be the end and sitting beside a bear. I won’t ruin the punchline.

If you’ve swung by here in the last week you might have noticed a lack of anything new, but it’s nothing to worry about and mostly due to my inability to carve out any time to write (aside from a couple of reviews I did for DVD Times). There’s another Warner Archive title I’ll be writing about soon and we’ll always have TCM to get us through the night. Good week as usual for the channel, and Friday is one of those call in sick and curl up with the remote sort of days. As always, all times are EDT and program days begin at 6:00 AM.

Saturday September 19

10:00 PM Devotion (Bernhardt, 1946) - BW-107 mins. - Party with the Bronte sisters. We have Emily, played by Ida Lupino and author of Wuthering Heights (the film version of which airs immediately prior at 8:00 PM), and Charlotte, best known for writing Jane Eyre and portrayed here by Olivia de Havilland. The lesser-known sister Anne is present as well and played by the lesser-known actress Nancy Coleman. Also look for Sydney Greenstreet as Thackeray and Paul Henreid as Charlotte’s husband. Arthur Kennedy is the Brontes’ brother Branwell. There were actually six Bronte children in total, but they all died very young. The two youngest never saw their teens and the longest-living, Charlotte, was just 38 when she died. Devotion was made for Warner Bros. but hasn’t been released on DVD.

3:00 AM Kes (Loach, 1970) - BW-111 mins. - Often in the mix for greatest British movie ever (the BFI ranked it #7) yet not on DVD here in R1, Ken Loach’s second feature film is about a teenage working-class boy whose main refuge seems to be spending time with his pet falcon. Beyond that, let’s just watch the movie and see for ourselves. I don’t really have much of an opinion on Loach either way but it is surprising how poorly his films are represented on R1 DVD. The R2 disc is from MGM, but I’m not sure whether that studio controls the rights in the U.S.

Sunday September 20

12:15 AM Wild Oranges (Vidor, 1924) - BW-88 mins. - As King Vidor’s silent features remain virtually ignored on DVD, the best way to watch them might be through TCM’s odd showings. This one was a landmark in cinema for Vidor’s insistence on traveling outside the studio lot and shooting the tale of a girl and her grandfather on a remote island amid the sweltering Florida heat. The plot picks up when an escaped convict finds them and takes a particular interest in the girl. I believe there’s a shorter version in existence but, given the amount of time slotted, TCM will probably air the longer cut. The film was produced by Goldwyn Pictures Corporation and this is another one where I’m not sure about the current rights situation.

Monday September 21

8:00 AM The Affairs of Dobie Gillis (Weis, 1953) - BW-73 mins. - I haven’t seen this movie, but I did enjoy the television show quite a bit when I was a kid (and it was on Nick at Nite). I always liked the opening titles and theme song. Someone should really release the television show on DVD. Bobby Van plays Dobie in the film but the star is Debbie Reynolds whose character name is Pansy Hammer. No Maynard or Thalia here I guess, not even Milton Armitage. You do get future Cabaret and All That Jazz director Bob Fosse in what would seem to be a fairly large acting role. The film is set at a college (fictional Grainbelt University), with Dobie pining for Pansy. It’s not on DVD and was made for Warner Bros. Probably a good candidate for the burn-on-demand Warner Archive program.

3:45 PM The Window (Tetzlaff, 1949) - BW-74 mins. - This is a very atmospheric, suspense-laden film noir about a young boy known to tell a tale or two who really does witness some nefarious happenings only to have no one believe him except the perpetrators. Bobby Driscoll is the little boy while Arthur Kennedy and Barbara Hale are his parents. The neighbors/villains are played by Paul Stewart (who was probably never better than here terrorizing young Driscoll) and Ruth Roman.  It’s from a Cornell Woolrich story. The film is definitely worth checking out and it really should be on R1 DVD by now. Made for RKO, Warner Bros. likely controls. A French R2 DVD from Editions Montparnesse would be another option.

Tuesday September 22

8:15 AM Hi, Nellie! (LeRoy, 1934) - BW-75 mins. - Paul Muni all day, which gives viewers a chance to see several films not yet on R1 DVD like The Story of Louis Pasteur (1:15 PM) and Black Fury (9:45 AM). I was less familiar with this comedy where Muni plays a committed newspaper editor who gets demoted to the love advice column but still keeps hard at work. Muni is re-teamed with Glenda Farrell and Mervyn LeRoy, the female lead and director, respectively, of I Am Fugitive from a Chain Gang (his best film in my opinion and one airing at 6:30 AM). Hi, Nellie! is Warner Bros. It’s not on DVD.

Thursday September 24

4:15 AM Billy the Kid (Vidor, 1930) - BW-95 mins. - Another King Vidor film this week, though I’m less confident about this one. The title character is played by Johnny Mack Brown, a former University of Alabama football star and a B-western actor, while Wallace Beery is Pat Garrett. There are so many versions of this story on film that the surrounding facts are far less interesting than the characterizations from movie to movie. I’m curious to see how Vidor handled the material. MGM did the film so Warner Bros. should have the rights. No DVD.

Friday September 25

8:30 AM Child of Manhattan (Buzzell, 1933) - BW-70 mins. - TCM saved the best day of the week for last, beginning with several pre-Code efforts in the morning. Ann Carver’s Profession stars Fay Wray as a lawyer and airs just prior at 7:00 AM, but Child of Manhattan caught my eye just a tad stronger. It has Nancy Carroll playing a dance hall girl who secretly marries a rich playboy (John Boles) after she gets pregnant. I’m especially intrigued by the fact that the film was based on a play by Preston Sturges. It was the second filmed adaptation of a Sturges play after 1931’s Strictly Dishonorable. Look for Betty Grable in a small role as Carroll’s younger sister. This was a Columbia picture. It seems like so many pre-Code movies were done for that studio and haven’t made it to DVD yet.

8:00 PM Scandal Sheet (Karlson, 1952) - BW-82 mins. - There’s a great scene in Sam Fuller’s The Big Red One where the character Robert Carradine plays, who’s modeled on Fuller himself, is off at war and sees another soldier reading a book he had actually written but didn’t realize had been published. That’s apparently just the way it happened in real life with Fuller’s first published novel The Dark Half, which was later turned into this movie directed by Phil Karlson. It’s a noirish murder mystery set in the world of tabloid newspapers. Broderick Crawford and Donna Reed star. I think Fuller really would have preferred to have made the picture himself and didn’t quite like what Karlson and co. did with it, including the name change. Nonetheless, Sony will soon be releasing Scandal Sheet as part of a Fuller-themed box set in R1.

9:30 PM The Phenix City Story (Karlson, 1955) - BW-100 mins. - Despite Fuller’s reluctance to embrace Scandal Sheet, I’m excited to see TCM dedicate the night to director Phil Karlson, whose pictures like Kansas City Confidential and 99 River Street are classics of film noir. One that’s supposed to be good but I’ve not yet seen is The Phenix City Story, which is set in Alabama and involves a corrupt political machine. John McIntire, Richard Kiley and the lovely Kathryn Grant (Crosby) head the cast. Karlson’s The Brothers Rico, soon to be on DVD in Sony’s film noir box, and the Marilyn Monroe starrer Ladies of the Chorus follow. I haven’t come across any official DVD releases for The Phenix City Story. Its original distributor was Allied Artists, which puts the rights where?