‘Requiem’ tempers the hilarity at TCM Classic Film Festival

April 11, 2017 by

By Film Noir Blonde and Michael Wilmington

The TCM Classic Film Festival focused on comic films this year but of course there was a dark side. (Isn’t that always the case?) One of the highlights (or lowlights) for the Film Noir Blonde team was the screening of “Requiem for a Heavyweight” (1962, Ralph Nelson).

The film was introduced by Eddie Muller, founder and president of the Film Noir Foundation (a.k.a. the czar of noir). He thanked the audience for coming to “the bleakest, most depressing movie of the fest.” He added that his father had been a longtime boxing columnist for the San Francisco Examiner so he was familiar with the hardscrabble life of a fighter.

The boxer in the film is “Mountain” Rivera (Anthony Quinn) who must choose a new path upon realizing that his best years are behind him. But his options are limited, not only because his whole life has been swinging punches but also because his manager (Jackie Gleason) is not above perpetrating an act of searing betrayal. Mickey Rooney plays Mountain’s trainer and Julie Harris plays an awkward social worker who tries to help him find another kind of job.

The film originated as a teleplay by Rod Serling and aired in 1956 on a show called Playhouse 90, starring Jack Palance in the lead; Kim Hunter played the social worker. Also directed by Nelson, the teleplay received Peabody and Emmy awards. In the film, Cassius Clay (later known as Muhammad Ali) and Jack Dempsey appear as themselves.

Quinn shows us an achingly vulnerable human being starting the last chapter of his life. Without sentimentality, he makes us feel the pain, sadness and frustration of Rivera’s deadly predicament. He also shows us how this once-great, over-the-hill athlete has been victimized by his world: the seedy, sleazy, exploitative milieu of professional boxing.

As Muller put it: “It’s really a Greek tragedy.”

Filed Under: Classic Noir Reviews, Noir Style, Out of the Shadows Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Bardot reigns over land of lost chances in noirish ‘Contempt’

October 8, 2014 by

By Mike Wilmington

Contempt posterJean-Luc Godard’s “Contempt” is a melancholy drama about love’s dissolution and the compromises of moviemaking. Few films on either subject project so much beauty and bitterness. Thanks to Godard and Brigitte Bardot, it’s a masterpiece of mournful eroticism, one of the cinema’s most anguished portrayals of the ways love turns to hatred and passion curdles to contempt.

Based on Alberto Moravia’s 1954 novel “Ghost at Noon,” about a couple falling apart during a blighted film production of Homer’s “Odyssey,” Godard’s movie was considered a failure on its release in 1963. But “Contempt” gradually became acknowledged as one of the great French films of the ’60s.

The doomed husband and wife are played by Michel Piccoli, as Paul, an opportunistic young playwright doctoring the script of “The Odyssey,” and Bardot – then the world’s reigning movie sex goddess – as Camille, Paul’s infinitely desirable but thoroughly alienated wife. Supporting them are Jack Palance as the brutal, lechy and egomaniacal American producer Jerry Prokosch, and Fritz Lang as himself, a legendary film director trying to create art in the midst of madness.

"Contempt" features a classic love triangle.

“Contempt” features a classic love triangle between Bardot, Palance (center) and Piccoli (top right).

When Godard (who also appears in the movie as Lang’s assistant director) started “Contempt,” he had one foot inside the door of the studio system. He was a maverick art-house director with a big international hit (1960’s “Breathless”) and an ambivalent but strong affection for classic Hollywood, especially film noir. Godard has called “Contempt” a film with an Antonioni subject done in the style of Hitchcock and Hawks.

But, after his fracases with “Contempt” producers, Carlo Ponti and Joseph Levine, and the picture’s commercial disappointment, he was an independent and an outsider again – and remains so to this day.

“Contempt” is a sad, sarcastic film and a stunningly beautiful one. It dazzles us with visions of Bardot and the sun-drenched backdrops of Italy’s Cinecitta Studios and Capri, photographed by Godard’s master cinematographer Raoul Coutard. Godard, then more famous for the nervous, jump-cut editing style of “Breathless,” here favors long, luxuriant takes in the Max Ophuls–Vincente Minnelli style.

Filmed in Capri, the movie is full of stunning scenery and memorable shots.

Filmed partly in Capri, the movie is full of stunning scenery.

His elegantly composed shots drink in the sumptuous sights of international moviemaking: plush screening rooms, swimming pools, the sparkling blue ocean. Perhaps most memorably, Bardot’s radiant blonde Camille, a ravishing yet vulnerable sexpot, is shot in the nude through red, white and blue filters, in the movie’s opening. (That scene was a strip tease the producers demanded, and that Godard and Bardot turned into an ironic/iconic triumph of her sexuality and his cinematic “gaze”).

Camille is the movie’s object of desire and its victim of love. And when Paul loses Camille, his life, we feel, is almost deservedly shattered. The movie resonates with regret over lost romance and squandered lives, showing the exact points at which love dies, could be rescued and is thrown away again.

BB plays Camille, the alienated wife.

BB plays Camille, the alienated wife.

“Contempt” also shows us another kind of threatened passion: love for the cinema of the great auteurs (like Lang), a cinema that seems to be dying along with Camille‘s love for Paul.

Moravia’s novel was said to be inspired his relationship with his wife, novelist Elsa Morante, a goddess of fiction. Godard, retelling the story in pictures, turns Bardot into another kind of deity. She is BB, flesh become art: high priestess of the land of lost chances, the cinema queen of the moving camera and measureless desire.

(In French, with English subtitles. Available to buy at Criterion. It’s also shown from time to time on TCM.)

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Film noir’s feline stars: The cat in ‘Sudden Fear’

October 31, 2011 by

Happy Halloween everyone! More on the most famous kitties in film noir …

The Cat in “Sudden Fear” 1952

Name: Scair D. Cat

Character Name: Alcatraz Joe

His one-time acting role allowed Chicago-born Scair D. Cat to pursue his culinary ambitions on the West Coast.

Bio: Having grown up in the back room of Chicago’s Katnip Klub on Lincoln Park West (“where no puss gets the boot”), Scair D. Cat was on particularly friendly terms with bartenders, bouncers and cooks. In fact, it was by helping out in the kitchen that he perfected a secret steak sauce he hoped to introduce to a bigger audience.

After receiving the blessing of the Klub’s management, Scair decided the sauce was ready for the big leagues and on a chilly winter day in 1952 skulked his way to Table One of the famous Pump Room restaurant at the Ambassador East Hotel, seeking to snag the chef’s attention.

But as Fate would have it, Joan Crawford and director David Miller were the human guests at Table One that day, discussing their upcoming project, the melodramatic thriller “Sudden Fear,” set in San Francisco. Crawford’s role as a playwright, who marries a younger man (Jack Palance) but discovers his treacherous true colors and carefully plots her retaliation, was one of her most demanding.

Crawford, eyes bulging and brows arched, took one look at Scair’s bulging eyes and arched brows, and convinced Miller that he should be cast as Alcatraz Joe. Scair was not the least bit interested in acting or Hollywood but Crawford won him over by promising that she would help promote his steak sauce on the West Coast as soon as filming wrapped. And Crawford made the ideal choice – Scair lends a shocking fierceness and rugged theatricality to the intense chase scenes toward the movie’s end.

True to her word, Crawford made several important introductions for her feline co-star. At the same time, Scair fell in love with the West Coast and began creating seafood sauces and recipes. He set up shop in San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf and became a consultant to restaurants such as Alioto’s. He and Crawford remained close friends.

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Wendell Corey astonishes as a doofus turned dangerous

September 30, 2011 by

The Killer is Loose/1956/Crown Productions, UA/73 min.

Michael Wilmington

By Michael Wilmington

Budd Boetticher, who didn’t direct nearly as many films as he should have, made a lot of them in the ’50s. And in 1956, he directed both a classic Western (“Seven Men from Now”) and a neglected semi-classic low-budget noir, “The Killer is Loose.”

Joseph Cotten plays a dedicated if disgruntled LA cop, Rhonda Fleming is his unwisely feisty wife, Alan Hale and John Larch are fellow fuzz, and, very memorably, Wendell Corey is the escaped bank robber who blames Cotten (correctly) for the death of his wife during his arrest.

Corey was a dependable, if often unexciting, sidekick and secondary guy in the ’40s and ’50s. In 1947’s “Desert Fury,” he plays John Hodiak’s right-hand crook, another great noir role. Corey gives an astonishing performance here as the psychotic vengeance-seeker – playing the character not as the usual cold-blooded, relentless Lee Marvin or Jack Palance type, but as someone you’d probably trust.

Wendell Corey plays the psycho as a polite, trustworthy type.

He’s a polite, preoccupied, considerate, somewhat clumsy, nice-enough-acting doofus, not at all maniacal or dangerous-appearing. He’s also seemingly unstoppable, as he breaks out of jail and moves inexorably toward Cotten and Fleming and their home in the suburbs, killing everyone in his way.

Corey’s loose killer and his last disguise, which in some ways anticipates Norman Bates’ mother in “Psycho,” are both absurd and scary.

The movie, like a lot of Boetticher, is immaculately well executed, the work of an extraordinary genre-bending talent. By the way, Lee Marvin had one of his all-time best heavy roles in Boetticher’s above-mentioned gem “Seven Men from Now.” In that movie, it was hero Randolph Scott who was the relentless pursuer, out to avenge his wife.

The cinematographer of “The Killer is Loose” was Lucien Ballard, Boetticher’s good friend and great collaborator. Ballard, an ace at both Westerns and noirs, shot this movie the same year he lit Stanley Kubrick’s “The Killing.”

MGM Limited Edition Collection, available from online retailers. No extras.

Filed Under: Classic Noir Reviews Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Love at its worst, noir at its best: ‘Sudden Fear’ sucks you in

July 13, 2011 by

Sudden Fear/1952/RKO Radio Pictures/110 min.

If you’ve never seen 1952’s “Sudden Fear” by director David Miller, you are in for a treat. I’m not sure why but this film isn’t mentioned very often as an example of noir at its best. It is precisely that – with delightful darkness at its core. And it was nominated for four Academy Awards: actress, supporting actor, b&w cinematography and b&w costume design.

Hmm, where to begin my gushfest? Well, first of all, it stars Joan Crawford as heiress and playwright Myra Hudson. Glamorous, successful and gracious, Myra has everything in the world, except a man.

Jack Palance charms Joan Crawford on a train trip.

But that all changes fast. While sitting in on a rehearsal for her new play’s Broadway opening, Myra fires actor Lester Blaine (Jack Palance; the part was also offered to Marlon Brando). After the show is a smash hit, she runs into him by chance on the train back to her home in San Francisco. By the end of the trip, Myra and Lester seem to be in love. Lester is an actor, after all.

The truth is he has some unfinished business, or more accurately unrealized schemes, with ex-flame Irene Neves (Gloria Grahame). They have expensive taste but no cash; that’s where Myra’s money and a tragic “accident” come in.

Myra isn’t fooled for long, though certainly she has her share of night sweats and shakes. Her playwright’s skill for crafting plot lines as well as a knack for stunts and a talent for forgery come in mighty handy as she painstakingly plans a way to exact her revenge.

Crawford is captivating as the writer/wife with a wickedly resourceful streak. The scene in which she learns of Lester’s betrayal is remarkable – it hinges completely on her wordless, visceral reaction. Grahame sizzles as a smooth operator working every angle she can. Crawford also served as the film’s executive producer; she and Grahame reportedly did not get along. Shocker! Tall, craggy-faced Palance, in his first major screen role, effortlessly exudes mystery and menace. It’s chilling to see Lester morph from solicitous to sinister at the drop of a hat.

Miller, an underrated director, borrows a bit from the horror genre (rest assured, there’s a screeching cat, among other creepy tropes) and outdoes himself with this subversive, scary melodrama that just oozes tension. Love the chase scene toward the end. Miller worked from a strong, clever script by Lenore Coffee and Robert Smith from a novel by Edna Sherry.

The visuals are magnificent, noir at its finest, courtesy of cinematographer Charles B. Lang Jr. Black stripes and bars invade every scene, suggesting the characters’ entrapment in their fate. Intense contrast and chiaroscuro lend a painterly quality. Elmer Bernstein’s score, part nerve-wracking and part lushly romantic, is also key to building the suspense. [Read more…]

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‘Sudden Fear’ quick hit

July 13, 2011 by

Sudden Fear/1952/RKO Radio Pictures/110 min.

All newlyweds face a few challenges. But successful playwright Myra Hudson (Joan Crawford) and aspiring actor husband Lester Blaine (Jack Palance) have deeper issues. For example, Lester really wants to be with his true love Irene (Gloria Grahame); Lester and Irene both want Myra’s money. Myra taps her creative powers to throw a few wrenches into the mix. Melodramatic, it’s true, yet tense and satisfying.

Filed Under: Classic Noir Reviews Tagged With: , , , ,

FNB proclaims Gloria Grahame Day: July 13

July 12, 2011 by

Lately I find myself compulsively watching “Sudden Fear” from 1952 starring Joan Crawford, Jack Palance and Gloria Grahame. It’s on as I write, in fact.

Directed by David Miller, the movie has a lot going for it (regular readers know I adore Joan Crawford) but at the top of the list is Grahame, playing a femme fatale nonpareil who’s also rather skilled at mingling in high society.

Gloria Grahame shined in ’50s noir classics.

With her feline face, flirty smile and hour-glass figure, Grahame was a stalwart of film noir. Besides “Sudden Fear,” she was in “Crossfire” (1947, Edward Dmytryk), “In a Lonely Place” (1950, Nicholas Ray), “Macao” (1952, Josef von Sternberg), “The Big Heat” (1953, Fritz Lang), “Human Desire” (1954, Fritz Lang), “Naked Alibi” (1954, Jerry Hopper) and “Odds Against Tomorrow” (1959, Robert Wise).

Commenting on her seductive powers, she once said, “It wasn’t the way I looked at a man, it was the thought behind it.” (Though she often played the bad girl, she was a Los Angeles native from a comfortable family.)

She had acting chops, too, winning a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her part in “The Bad and the Beautiful” (1952, Vincente Minnelli). Her breakthrough role was Violet Bick in “It’s a Wonderful Life” (1947, Frank Capra).

Her career faltered, though, when on “Oklahoma” (1955, Fred Zinnemann) she acquired a reputation as being difficult to work with. Her big number in the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical is “I’m Just a Girl Who Can’t Say No.” Natch. Also harmful to her public image was the fact that in 1960 she married Anthony Ray, her former stepson from her marriage (1948-1952) to director Nicholas Ray. Nonetheless, she worked on the stage, in TV and occasionally in films until she died at 57 in 1981. She was married four times and had four children.

So, because I can, I am declaring July 13 Gloria Grahame Day on FNB and will be posting reviews of her noir classics in the coming weeks. (If you are in LA, try to catch “In a Lonely Place” at LACMA on Friday, July 22.)

OK, time to restart “Sudden Fear” and break it to my friend – who stopped by tonight, took one look at the alluring Grahame and asked if he could get a date with her – that request, alas, will have to remain in the realm of fantasy. Ah, men and their fantasies; it’s a kingdom Grahame ruled perhaps not wisely but well.

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