Author: voiceovermovies

Suggested by Tennessee Williams’ This Property is Condemned

 

This post is part of the Stage to Screen Blogathon hosted by Rachel’s Theatre Reviews and The Rosebud Cinema.

 

war-poster-Final_large - copia - copia (3) - copia - copiaThere are about a dozen films I saw growing up that I call my sentimental favorites. Some are good films and some aren’t, but all are special to me. The same can be said of a few actors.

I say all this as full disclosure. One of those films was This Property is Condemned and one of those actors is Natalie Wood. So I may not be entirely objective about this 1966 screen adaption of a Tennessee Williams play and despite all its flaws, I will likely love it until I land in the bone orchard like its heroine.

The play provides only the loosest framework for the film – opening credits say “suggested by a one act play by Tennessee Williams.” That disclaimer of sorts may have been added because it’s true or to appease Williams, who reportedly tried to disown the film, or both.

Williams’ short play features two characters: Willie, a young girl, and Tom, a boy. The play opens as Willie, dressed in ragged, cast-off clothes and dime-store jewelry, walks along a railroad track, balancing on it like a tightrope, carrying a beat-up old doll and half a bad banana. Tom happens upon her and she tells him about her beautiful sister Alva who died of “lung affection” like Camille, once shown at the local movie theater. (If you’ve seen or read about the Greta Garbo film, you’ll see the plot similarities.)

this-property-is-condemned-191095l-imagineThe only details we learn from the play is Alva was the “main attraction” in their mother’s house. The house, sounding a lot like a brothel, was full of music and frequented by all kinds of railroad men, who made up Alva’s many beaux. “Mama ran off with a brakeman … My old man got to drinking.” And disappeared. Alva’s men abandon her when she gets sick – “like rats from a sinking ship!” exclaims Willie. Now, Alva lies dead in the “bone orchard.”

From that most spindly skeleton, Francis Ford Coppola, Fred Coe and Edith R. Sommer, the credited screenwriters, hung a melodrama about Alva Starr (Natalie Wood), her manipulative mother Hazel (Kate Reid) and younger sister and narrator Willie (Mary Badham), who in the Depression run a rooming house frequented by a variety of railroad men, including Mama’s boyfriend, a taciturn and threatening J.J. (Charles Bronson), who is far more interested in Alva than he is in Hazel, and Sidney (Robert Blake), an avid and awkward admirer of Alva.

Into that walks Owen Legate (Robert Redford), a character made of whole cloth, not even hinted at in the play. Legate is a mysterious stranger, a bit smug and standoffish, who rents a room for just a week. Turns out Legate is there representing the railroad. His job is to go from town to town, laying off workers. But to Alva, Owen is everything all the other men are not and someday he’ll leave and go places she’d like to go. He’s her escape and before she finds out he is just a hatchet man for the railroad, Alva is already in love.

Alva is written in the same vein as some of Williams’ other heroines. She’s a bit fey and tormented and crudely handled by boorish men. She daydreams, telling tales of visiting the Peabody Hotel in Memphis, mostly to create an alternative life to make bearable the one she lives in.  But she’s not insane, not close to it, like many of Williams’ female leads. And she’s capable of cunning, as when she marries J.J. in a fit of anger at her mother for exploiting her and destroying her relationship with Owen.

rainThat bit of revenge leads to inevitable tragedy. Alva escapes to New Orleans to find Owen, they reunite and share about 10 minutes of domestic bliss until Mama arrives for her own bit of payback. Mama tells Owen Alva is already married, Owen is crushed and a desperate Alva runs out into a storm. That’s the last we see of her. The movie ends as it begins, with Willie walking along the train tracks, narrating the story as she does in the play.

I don’t know why Williams allegedly hated the movie and wanted his name off it, but I can guess. Owen Legate is not a Williams’ character. The film makes him out to be better than the men he’s there to lay off. Redford plays it smug at first, but shows affection towards Willie and defends her from local bullies, and while he doesn’t treat Alva with respect, really, he also does not treat her like a piece of meat like all the other men do. He tries to bring her back to earth, telling her that her daydreams are just fantasies and his travels are no more romantic than her dead-end small town life.

But where Stanley Kowalski, who does the same to a fragile Blanche DuBois in Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire, is coarse and cruel, Legate is made out to be Alva’s knight in shining armor, in a way the antithesis of a Williams’ character.

The love affair between Owen and Alva is the stuff of soap operas, too. Alva flirts, Owen insults, Alva gets angry, they fight, they embrace, they screw, they break up over a misunderstanding (an obvious plot device that makes little sense), they reunite, they even run towards each other on a crowded New Orleans street and into each other’s arms. A secret tears them apart. The End.

bronsonThe filming was reportedly rife with problems. If you want to read a rundown of it that also puts the movie in a historical perspective – stuck awkwardly between the end of one Hollywood era and the beginning of the next — read a great 2010 post by Susan Doll at the TCM blog, Moviemorlocks. In it, Doll says the film was originally to be made by John Huston with Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift. When the director dropped out so did the stars. Wood got on board, then Redford, who suggested Sydney Pollack, less known at the time than he is now. Doll also writes that Pollack was handed 11 versions of the script and had to cobble together a screenplay from the best parts of each. It was Coppola’s fifth credit as a writer. Coe was from Mississippi so presumably was on board to add some verisimilitude. And Sommer was a writer with the soap opera The Guiding Light, probably accounting for some if not most of the film’s romantic tropes. David Rayfiel is listed as an uncredited writer at the IMDb. He worked with Pollack and Redford on several other films, including Jeremiah Johnson, The Way We Were and Three Days of the Condor. (The great James Wong Howe did the cinematography.)

The IMDb also says Wood tried to commit suicide during the filming, in late November, 1965. I found a similar claim at Biography.com, the web site of the same-named TV channel. And maybe the most well-known fact (or myth) from the film is that Wood had trouble playing drunk in the scene that leads to her marrying J.J. so the actress got drunk instead of pretending.

this property is condemnedFor all its faults, though, This Property is Condemned has some wonderful performances. Mary Badham, best known as Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird, gives the most real, least caricatured performance as Willie. And she’s in it much more than I remembered. Kate Reid has only a few scenes but she’s incredible as Hazel, a woman desperate to keep her beautiful daughter around to attract the men that pay the bills. In a better written script, a more Williams-like script, Hazel might have been less a villain and more a victim, a woman past her prime trying to survive when the world only values Alvas. Wood is affecting, too. The part isn’t easy. All the conflict revolves around and is directed at her so she can’t falter. She has a lot of melodrama to play and yet I always feel for her. To be honest, I think there are better actresses than Wood, but none seem more vulnerable on screen. Redford has a thankless role so I won’t fault his affectless performance. He’s there more to set the plot in motion than to illicit feeling.

Until this blogathon, I didn’t realize This Property is Condemned was based on a play, much less a Tennessee Williams play. I can see why Williams rejected the film. And through an older eye, I can even see why critics and moviegoers might not love it, but it will always be one of a handful of films that hold a special place for me.

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Keaton shorts continued

Buster Keaton’s next three short films made with Roscoe Arbuckle were Oh Doctor!, Coney Island and A Country Hero, all made in 1917. The last is lost so I watched the next available movie, Out West, made in 1918.  (My first post covered The Butcher Boy, The Rough House and The Wedding Night, Buster’s first three films.)

buster keaton oh doctor 1 editI love Coney Island and Out West so I’ll make quick work of Oh Doctor! first. Arbuckle plays the unscrupulous Dr. Fatty Holepoke at 31 Cemetery Way who careens his car into a crowd to get new clients and loses all his money at the racetrack. Keaton plays his son, Junior Holepoke, dressed like an overgrown Little Lord Fauntleroy. The plot, what there is of one, involves Alice Mann and Al St. John conning Arbuckle in order to steal his wife’s necklace. (I can’t find a credit for the wife so don’t know the actress’ name.) The action revolves around the wife, Buster and Arbuckle all doing their part to retrieve the necklace and catch the villains. What little screen time Buster has is spent cackling, getting smacked around by his father, and wailing uncontrollably. It’s not typical Keaton fare and wastes his talents, except his incredible talent for prat falls, and the only upside is there’s little of it. One reason I like Arbuckle, though, is he plays such unremitting schmucks in most of these shorts and Dr. Fatty Holepoke has to be one of his most unprincipled characters.

Another reason I like Arbuckle is the lack of pretension he brings to his comedies. He and his cast are like giant kids having fun. A good example is Coney Island, which is a blast from start to finish and has one of my most favorite Buster moments. Arbuckle plays a character simply named Fatty, an unhappy husband at the beach with his wife (Agnes Neilson). Arbuckle is looking to lose her and spend time with Alice Mann, Buster’s girlfriend, who takes off with St. John and leaves Buster behind when he can’t afford the amusement park ticket. Soon, Mann hooks up with Fatty after he feigns sympathy when she’s feeling sick from the go-cart ride (not sure what else to call it) she took with St. John.

tumblr_md9tq9XoTD1qcgwn4o2_250Fatty spends half the movie in drag, in a turn-of-the-century woman’s bathing suit and Mary Pickford-curl wig, which leads to some good gags like St. John and Arbuckle flirting until they both stroke the other’s beard stubble. Buster becomes a life guard and in my favorite moment does a standing back flip for no reason except apparent pride over his new position. There’s some Keystone Cop-like police and a chase that ends in the ocean. Neilsen lands in jail, St. John and Arbuckle chase other women and Buster gets the girl. There’s even a kiss between them as they sit on the pier.  If you’re curious to see Buster laugh or smile or show something more than his legendary deadpan, definitely check out some of these early shorts with Arbuckle.

Out West is a send up of silent westerns. Buster’s father, Joe Keaton, is in it and according to IMDb.com, plays Man on Train. That’s how it starts, with Arbuckle chased on top of the boxcars, jumping off, rolling a cigarette, lighting a match on the moving train and grabbing the caboose’s ladder to hop back on. It’s a great, seamless stunt from Arbuckle.

Eventually, Arbuckle runs into a saloon just as St. John and his bandits are robbing it. Arbuckle grabs two six-shooters and with guns blazing, chases everyone out in a flurry of gunfire. Arbuckle returns to find Buster and takes over as bartender. (St. John’s character killed the former barkeep and Buster quickly placed a “Bartender wanted” sign on the bar.) 280px-OutWest1918In a racist bit of comedy par for the time, a bunch of cowboys shoot at the feet of a black man to make him dance. A woman from the Salvation Army (Alice Lake) enters the bar and tells everyone they should be ashamed of themselves. St. John latches on to her, harassing her until Buster and Arbuckle intervene. Arbuckle first tries to knock him out, hitting St. John over the head with about 20 breakaway bottles in a lengthy gag. When none of that works Arbuckle grabs a feather – the intertitle announces “Achilles heel” – and caresses St. John’s face. Buster joins in, tickling St. John until the robber falls down in uncontrollable laughter. The gag is revived at the end when St. John kidnaps the woman and Fatty saves her, again tickling St. John long enough for her to escape. In between, there’s more gunfire and another stunt involving a drunken horse. All in all, a wonderful poke in the eye of melodramatic westerns of the day.

Next, I hope to watch The Bell Boy, Moonshine and Good Night, Nurse!, assuming all are available.

And, FYI, TCM is showing three Keaton films next month – The Navigator and Sherlock Jr., back-to-back on Nov. 9 and Seven Chances on Nov. 24, followed by a documentary, Buster Keaton: So Funny It Hurt!.

Mack Sennett and Tillie’s Punctured Romance

The year was 1914.

isennem001p1Mack Sennett had been making movies for six years, first for the Biograph Co. where he worked with D.W. Griffith and then for a movie production company he helped create which would make him famous, the Keystone Film Co.

Sennett hailed from Canada, born Michael Sinnott on Jan. 17, 1880 in Richmond, Quebec. As a teenager, he and his family moved to Berlin, Conn., then to North Hampton, Mass., where their lawyer, Calvin Coolidge, introduced Mack to actress and fellow Canadian Marie Dressler, who in turn introduced him to famed theater producer David Belasco. (Or so the legend goes.) Sennett started in burlesque, moved on to Broadway, even did some work as a model. In 1908, he joined Biograph, where he acted under the direction of Griffith in such films as The Curtain Pole, a 13-minute slapstick-like comedy, and directed films, many starring Mabel Normand, with whom he had a long, tumultuous off-screen affair.

Then in 1912, Sennett left Biograph and formed Keystone as a unit of New York Motion Pictures Co., a production company established by former racetrack bookies Adam Kessel and Charles O. Baumann. The pair were already producing westerns, dramas and Civil War films distributed through Mutual Film Corp., but wanted comedy shorts to please the theater operators.  Sennett signed a deal to produce a single one-reel, 10-12 minute film per week but was soon cranking out many more to meet demand.

The early Keystone films, which famously combined farce with gags, stunts and chases, were all shorts, as were all comedies of the day. Feature-length dramas were being made all over the world and Sennett wanted to be the first to do the same for comedies.

So in 1914, Sennett spent much of the year making Tillie’s Punctured Romance, a six-reeler that runs about 82 minutes, considered the first feature-length comedy film ever made.

foto1It stars Dressler, making her film debut at age 46 as Tillie Banks, and is loosely based on Tillie’s Nightmare, the actress’ hugely successful stage play. Playing primary roles, too, are Charlie Chaplin, whom Sennett had seen during a U.S. tour of Fred Karno’s English music hall troupe and then signed for Keystone, and Keystone regular Normand. The movie also features Mack Swain, Chester Conklin, Charles Bennett, Minta Durfee (a.k.a. Mrs. Roscoe Arbuckle), and the legendary Keystone Cops, including Nick Cogley, Billy Gilbert, William Hauber, Grover Ligon, Hank Mann and Al St. John.

The story involves Chaplin’s nameless character trying to scam awkward, clumsy Tillie into marrying him because her father, played by Mack Swain, has money. Tillie and Chaplin run off together after stealing the father’s loot and run into Normand, Chaplin’s accomplice. Chaplin takes Tillie out for her first drink, which she spits in his face, and while Tillie gets drunk and dances, Chaplin and Normand abscond with her money.

Tillie ends up in jail when she can’t pay the restaurant bill and we find out she has a millionaire uncle who lives in lavishly-decorated mansion attended to by ridiculously-attired servants. The police – a few Keystone Cops, of course – deliver her to the mansion but the uncle throws her out. She wanders the streets and eventually finds a job as a waitress while her uncle leaves to hike the mountains.

Meanwhile, in a fun few minutes, Chaplin and Normand go to the movies — a Keystone movie, according to the poster outside and the screen credits inside. The film tells the tale of a thief who gets caught, which unnerves Normand, who annoys everyone around her by narrating the story to Chaplin.

The hiking uncle falls off the mountain, is left for dead and we discover Tillie is his sole heir. Chaplin finds out, ditches Normand on a park bench and races to the restaurant to beg for the heiress’ hand in marriage. They wed, take over the mansion and throw a huge bash.  By then, Normand has learned the score and talks her way into a job at the party. When Tillie finds Chaplin and Normand kissing in an alcove, all hell breaks loose.

Marie Dressler - Tillie's Punctured Romance (1914) CopsIt’s only then, in the final 10 to 15 minutes of the film, when Tillie’s Punctured Romance becomes a typical slapstick, Keystone comedy replete with food throwing, gun shooting, mass prat falls and a police chase that ends with Tillie and the cop car in the ocean, Chaplin rejected and Tillie and Normand in an inexplicable embrace.

Before that there’s plenty of butt kicking, bumping and wiggling, but the gags are surprisingly few, giving some air for a real narrative. I found only a few moments laugh-out-loud funny – when Dressler spits her drink in Chaplin’s face, when Normand gets increasingly rattled watching the Keystone movie, when Chaplin tussles with one of many tiger rugs at the mansion. Dressler wears ghoulish eye makeup and her humor is basic — she has a flirty face and worried face, the difference indicated only by the direction of her mouth. To be honest, she reminded me of Roscoe Arbuckle, which is not entirely an insult. The running gag that sustains much of the movie’s humor is her size: she’s taller and broader than Chaplin and when Tillie is drunk or unruly, four or five waiters or cops or mansion servants are needed to subdue her. But audiences obviously loved her. She had a thriving stage career and made two Tillie film sequels.

Chaplin looks sort of tramp-like. He wears baggy pants, a cane, and walks with extreme turnout, but his character is nothing like the tender-hearted tramp. He has such sublime physicality, though, that I find him the most naturally funny. He and Normand’s expressive face. Like Buster Keaton said, a comedian does funny things, a good comedian does things funny.

In the end, Tillie’s Punctured Romance became a headache for Sennett. Theaters were reluctant initially to book the film due to its length and Dressler later sued Keystone over her share in the profits. The movie did make money, though, encouraging Sennett to make more feature length films. But Keystone’s shorts remained the company’s bread and butter.

headerTillie’s Punctured Romance wasn’t the peak of Sennett’s career, which continued well into the 1930s. He made many more movies, 1,000 overall by some estimates. He worked for other companies, including Paramount, Pathé and Educational, where in 1935, towards the end of his career, he finally worked with Keaton. He discovered, mentored or worked with a roster of legends including Griffith, Normand, Chaplin, Keaton, Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle, Frank Capra, Carole Lombard, Bing Crosby and W.C. Fields. And he had his highs and lows: in 1933, he filed for bankruptcy and in 1938 he received an honorary Oscar. Eventually he became a U.S. citizen.

But Tillie’s Punctured Romance was a first in film comedy history and a highlight in the career of Canadian Mack Sennett, one of Hollywood’s most influential artists.

This post is part of the O Canada Blogathon hosted by Ruth of Silver Screenings and Kristina of Speakeasy.

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Buster Keaton’s GRAND HOTEL parody

At the end of his autobiography, Buster Keaton tells an anecdote that has to be one of the great what-ifs in movie history.

11168103_800He was near the end of his tenure at MGM. The movie company was in pre-production on GRAND HOTEL, the now famous drama set in a Berlin hotel starring Greta Garbo, John Barrymore and Joan Crawford.  According to Keaton, the film’s director, Edmund Goulding, approached him about playing the serious role of Otto Kringelein. Keaton was flattered and interested, but nothing came of it and the part ended up going to Lionel Barrymore.

After GRAND HOTEL was released, Keaton, who had parodied others’ work since his days in vaudeville, got an idea for a take-off. His would be set in a well-known fleabag hotel in New York, the Mills Hotel. Jimmy Durante would take John Barrymore’s part, Marie Dressler would stand in for Garbo, Oliver Hardy would play Wallace Beery’s role, Polly Moran would replace Crawford and Keaton would finally play the part that went to Lionel Barrymore.

“In our version, Hardy would be a manufacturer of front collar buttons who is trying to arrange a merger with Stan Laurel, a manufacturer of back collar buttons,” Keaton writes in “My Wonderful World of Slapstick.”

Barrymore_Garbo_Grand_Hotel_042432Keaton took the parody idea to Eddie Sedgwick, a director, but soon after Buster had a run-in with Louis B. Mayer and was fired. The run-in may have been a convenient excuse or the last straw because Keaton had been drinking heavily for a while, making a shambles of both his professional and personal life.

Still, Sedgwick took the idea to Irving Thalberg, the powerful MGM producer, who liked it enough to suggest Keaton come back to MGM to talk. In his book, Keaton says he refused after swearing he’d only return to the studio at Mayer’s invitation. But Keaton is self-aware and candid enough to admit that the real reason he snubbed Thalberg may have been because he was too much of a wreck to take on the project.

Whatever the reason, Keaton said it was a huge mistake to pass up the chance. As a movie lover, I gotta agree.

Buster Keaton makes his movie debut

First, some brief background. Buster Keaton began working in vaudeville before he was four years old in an act with his parents called The Three Keatons. It was notoriously rough and tumble. (The act was investigated numerous times by the New York Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, also known as the Gerry Society, which eventually got The Three Keatons banned for two years in New York City, according to Keaton’s autobiography, My Wonderful World of Slapstick.)

So Keaton had well-honed slapstick skills long before he made the jump to movies.

In 1917, Keaton ended the family act and went to find work in New York City, where he met Roscoe Arbuckle, the already well-known Mack Sennett star. Arbuckle invited Keaton to work on his next film, which was Arbuckle’s first movie after parting ways with Sennett and joining up with the producer Joseph Schenck. Keaton took Arbuckle up on the offer and made 14 short films with him, not all of which survive.

I’ve watched the first three films, all two-reelers made in in New York City in 1917. Keaton’s debut is in The Butcher Boy, starring Arbuckle as a butcher in love with store owner’s daughter. Al St. John, Arbuckle’s real life nephew and regular co-star, is a rival.

buster_bboy_01bbbKeaton makes his entrance about seven minutes into the movie, back to the camera so the first glimpse an audience gets is not of his face but his famous pork-pie hat. (I still haven’t read when Keaton started wearing the hat or why and why it became his trademark.) Keaton plays a customer who decides to buy molasses. Arbuckle ends up pouring it into Buster’s hat, which then gets stuck to Keaton’s head. A flour fight ensues, including a bag thrown by Arbuckle at Keaton, who gets his feet knocked out from under him. Meanwhile, Arbuckle’s love interest gets sent to boarding school where Arbuckle, dressed in drag, goes to see her as does St. John, who plots to kidnap her. Buster gets involved, so does the store’s dog, Luke, and the headmistress shoots a gun at everyone. In the end, Arbuckle and Amanda sneak a peek at the camera and skip off to get married by the local justice of the peace.

Plots in Arbuckle movies seem to get recycled, but the next film is different and features an even more nonsensical story than The Butcher Boy. In The Rough House, it’s Keaton and St. John fighting over the girl, the cook in Arbuckle’s house. Keaton arrives as the bicycle-riding deliver boy, getting clotheslined by the, uh, clothes line. Once inside, he flirts with the cook, which incenses St. John and the pair fight throughout the house with Arbuckle becoming collateral damage. Two dukes arrive, the intertitle tells us, and sit down to a meal with the wife and mother-in-law of Arbuckle, who is now the cook. (Buster’s love object is banished when Arbuckle’s wife catches Arbuckle kissing the cook’s injured ankle.)  One duke sneaks into a bedroom and steals a necklace. A detective, who just happens to be hanging around the house, sees him and calls the police station.

Meanwhile, Buster and St. John have been taken into custody and inexplicably enlisted as cops. They and a third fellow get sent to the house, run into the dukes and save the day. But not before Keaton gets hung up on a fence like a scarecrow and Arbuckle runs around the house shooting off a gun.

His Wedding Night, their third film, mixes elements from the first two films. Arbuckle plays a soda jerk who wields his ice cream scoop in much the same way Arbuckle’s butcher handles his knives, and Keaton again is a delivery boy, who goes head over handlebars when he drives into the soda fountain’s bike rack. Arbuckle is in love with the daughter of the shop’s owner, the pharmacist, with a malevolent St. John longing for her, too. Keaton delivers her wedding dress and models it for her, resulting in St. John and his gang mistakenly kidnapping Keaton. He and St. John nearly marry at the justice of the peace until Arbuckle arrives, steals St. John’s gun, shoots up the place and grabs Keaton for his own. When Arbuckle unveils the bride and sees she’s Keaton, he pitches Buster into the next room.

More goes on in all the films and describing the best moments doesn’t do them justice. Arbuckle’s dexterity and grace as well as his dirty looks and smug mug have to be seen to be appreciated as does Keaton’s physical stunts, which at this point are his main purpose in the Arbuckle shorts. Keaton kicks high, throwing himself in the air, falling flat on his back. He also lands on his head and twirls on it in a momentary headstand.

hisweddingnight1And there are also clever, witty, unexpected moments, such as when Keaton comes into the soda fountain with something in his eye making him wink. Arbuckle misinterprets and serves him a beer on the sly. Keaton drinks it and his foot starts to twitch. Arbuckle notices, pulls out a bar rail from behind the soda fountain and puts it under Keaton’s foot. Next, he puts out a spittoon, which Buster spits into, and then scatters some sawdust around the floor. Brilliant.

The funniest, though, comes later in His Wedding Night. Keaton is upstairs trying on the wedding dress and Arbuckle is downstairs chloroforming women (just go watch it) and St. John is off stealing a buggy to come kidnap the pharmacist’s daughter. When the buggy pulls up outside the store, the second-story window can be seen in the upper, right-hand corner of the frame. The action is focused on the buggy and gang of kidnappers so it may take a viewer a couple viewings to notice Keaton, in the wedding dress, dancing with abandon in the upstairs window.

Next: Oh Doctor!, Coney Island and Out West.

A few thoughts on TCM’s September lineup

Received my new Now Playing yesterday and, as usual, there’s a lot worth watching on TCM next month. Just a few thoughts on the September schedule:

Fridays feature classic pre-code film, which I am a novice about so don’t trust my judgment. Two that look intriguing to me are both showing on Sept. 26: Downstairs (1932), starring John Gilbert, Virginia Bruce and Paul Lukas at 8a/5a and Call Her Savage (1932), starring Clara Bow, Gilbert Roland and Thelma Todd at 2:15a/11:15p. TCM is also showing a documentary on pre-code, Thou Shalt Not: Sex, Sin and Censorship in Pre-code Hollywood on Sept. 5, 6:45p/3:45p and again at 2:15a/11:15p on Sept. 19.

220px-Cover_UpAlso, in the category of never-seen-look-interesting are two noirish titles, Crossfire (1947), starring Robert Young, Robert Mitchum and Robert Ryan and directed by Edward Dmytryk. That’s being shown as part of TCM’s The Projected Image: The Jewish Experience on Film, a series of 20 movies airing on Tuesdays in September. The likely more noirish movie is Cover-up (1949), starring William Bendix, Dennis O’Keefe and Barbara Britton, at 1:45p/10:45a on Sept. 25.

Speaking of Dmytryk (Murder, My Sweet and The Caine Mutiny), TCM is showing six of his films in a row on Sept. 4, starting with The Devil Commands (1941) at 10:30a/7:30a. Another unofficially featured director is Gordon Parks. Four of his films are scheduled on Sept. 18, starting with The Learning Tree (1969) at 8p/5p.

hud_ver2_xlgMelvyn Douglas is the star of the month. I want to see new-to-me Two-faced Woman (1941), starring Greta Garbo, Constance Bennett and Douglas and directed by George Cukor, playing Sept. 10 at 4:30a/1:30a (that’s really the 11th in all time zones but listed on the 10th). And Douglas in my most favorite, already-seen film showing in September: Hud (1963), starring Douglas, Paul Newman, Patricia Neal and Brandon deWilde. (The Sea of Grass (1947), playing after at 11:45p/8:45p and starring Spencer Tracy, Katharine Hepburn and Douglas and directed by Elia Kazan, sounds worth a look, too.)

Another already-seen film is Dear Heart (1964), a lovely, bittersweet movie starring Glenn Ford and Geraldine Page, airing Sept. 3 at 2p/11a. Dear Heart is an example of 60s-era films — the first movies I remember seeing when I was growing up – that mean something more to me than pure cinema-going appreciation. 

The_Merry_Widow_(1925_film)Silent films return to Sunday evenings. I don’t think I’ve seen any of them but am going to catch as many as I can. TCM’s October and November schedules are already online. I’ve only glanced at a few days but already am excited to see a childhood favorite I haven’t seen in years: The Canterville Ghost (1944), starring  Charles Laughton, Robert Young and Margaret O’Brien on Oct. 2 at 11:30p/8:30p.

Next time: thoughts on Buster Keaton’s first few films.

Buster Keaton Marathon

cropped-buster-keaton-12.jpgI’ve always loved movies and I’ve always loved Buster Keaton. But I recently realized I’ve seen only a handful of his films over the years, some so long ago that I might as well have never seen them at all. So I am on a mission to see every Buster Keaton film that is available. I will make an effort to view the best copy I can find or afford, but I will likely see most on youtube, which means the films may not be complete or in the best condition. I’ve watched a handful already and I’m trying to go in sequence so have watched several shorts he made with Roscoe Arbuckle, starting with THE BUTCHER BOY in 1917, Keaton’s first film. SEVEN CHANCES and STEAMBOAT BILL, JR. were on my DVR already so watched them out of order. Then I decided to start this blog so I am going to go back and re-watch them all before I start commenting.

I’ve been thinking about starting a blog about movies I love for awhile so if I stick it out this will be about more than Buster Keaton, but Buster Keaton is a wonderful place to start.