The Fabulous Forties #41: The North Star (dir by Lewis Milestone)

Posted on June 9, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 40th film — wait a minute, I’m finally up to number 40!? That means that there’s only ten more movies left to review! And then I’ll be able to move on! It’s always exiting for me whenever I’m doing a review series and I realize that I’m nearly done.

Anyway, where was I?

Oh yeah — the 40th film in Mill Creek’s Fabulous Forties box set was the 1943 war epic, The North Star. This is one of the many war films to be included in the Fabulous Forties box set and I have to admit that they all kind of blend together for me. Since these films were actually made at a time when America was at war, there really wasn’t much room for nuance. Instead, every film follows pretty much the same formula: the Nazis invade, a combination of soldiers and villagers set aside their individual concerns and/or differences and team up to defeat the Nazis, there’s a big battle, a few good people sacrifice their lives, the Nazis are defeated, and the allies promise to keep fighting.

It’s a pretty predictable formula but that’s okay because it was all in the service of fighting the Nazis. Could I legitimately point out that the villains in these movies are always kind of two-dimensional? Sure, I could. But you know what? IT DOESN’T MATTER BECAUSE THEY’RE NAZIS! Could I point out that the heroes are often idealized? Sure, but again it doesn’t matter. Why doesn’t it matter? BECAUSE THEY’RE FIGHTING NAZIS!

That’s one reason why, even as our attitude towards war changes, World War II films will always be popular. World War II was literally good vs evil.

Anyway, The North Star was a big studio tribute to America’s then ally, the Soviet Union. When a farm in the Ukraine is occupied by the Nazis, the peasants and the farmers refuse to surrender. They disappear into the surrounding hills and conduct guerilla warfare against the invading army. It’s all pretty predictable but it’s also executed fairly well. It doesn’t shy away from showing the brutality of war. There’s a haunting scene in which we see the bodies of all of the villagers — including several children — who have been killed in a battle.

The Nazis are represented by Erich Von Stroheim. Von Stroheim plays a German doctor who continually claims that he personally does not believe in the Nazi ideology and that he’s just following orders. When wounded Nazi soldiers need blood transfusions, he takes the blood from the children of the village. His rival, a Russian doctor, is played by all-American Walter Huston and indeed, all the Russians are played by American stars, the better to create a “we’re all in this together” type of spirit. When Huston tells Von Stroheim that he is even worse than the committed Nazis because he recognized evil and chose to do nothing, he’s speaking for all of us.

Unfortunately, before the Nazis invade, The North Star devotes a lot of time to showing how idyllic life is in the communist collective and these scenes are so idealized that they totally ring false. Everyone is so busy singing folk songs and talking about how happy they are being a part of a collective (as opposed to being an individual with concerns that are not shared by the other members of the collective) that it’s kind of unbearable. Not surprisingly, The North Star was written by Lillian Hellman, who wrote some great melodramas (like The Little Foxes) but who was always at her most tedious when she was at her most overly political.

(Watching the opening of The North Star, I was reminded that I would be totally useless in a collectivist society.)

So, I have to admit, that I was rather annoyed with the villagers at first. But then the Nazis invaded and I realized that we’re all in it together! As I said earlier, you can forgive your heroes almost anything when they’re fighting Nazis.

The North Star is an above average war film and a below average piece of political propaganda. See it as a double feature with The Last Chance.

The Fabulous Forties #40: Smash-Up, The Story of a Woman (dir by Stuart Heisler)

Posted on June 9, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 39th film in the Fabulous Forties box set was 1947’s Smash-Up, the Story of a Woman. I have to say it was a little bit strange going from watching the hilarious and life-affirming My Man Godfrey to watching the very serious and rather depressing Smash-Up.

Smash-Up is pure, tear-jerking Hollywood melodrama. When the film starts, Angie Evans (Susan Hayward) is in a hospital, with her face totally covered in bandages. Just by looking at her, we already know that her story is not going to be a happy one.

Flash back time! Angie was a nightclub singer and a pretty good one at that. The audiences loved her and she loved performing but she loved one thing more. (See how overwrought my prose was there? That’s a reflection of Smash-Up’s style.) She loved Ken Conway (Lee Bowman, who may be related to me but probably isn’t). Ken was a singer himself, though he was nowhere near as successful as Angie. However, after Ken and Angie married, Angie put her career on hold while Ken went on to become a huge success.

Angie was already a drinker before she met Ken. Having a few drinks before going out on stage helped to calm her nerves. It helped her to relax and become the performer that the audiences loved. However, once Ken became a star and Angie found herself continually alone in their home, she started to drink because it was the only thing that made her happy. Whenever she started to regret giving up her career, she drank. When she was worried that Ken was having an affair with his secretary (Marsha Hunt), Angie drank. Ken’s best friend and songwriter, Steve (Eddie Albert), could see that Angie was losing control. However, Ken refused to accept that his wife had a drinking problem. Accepting that Angie was drinking to be happy would mean accepting that she wasn’t happy in the first place.

Trapped in the middle of all this was their daughter, Angel (Sharyn Payne). When Ken, finally admitting that his wife could not control her drinking, demanded custody of Angel, Angie was determined to get back her daughter.

But, even though she wanted to, Angie could not stop drinking. Or smoking. And the smoking, the drinking, and the kidnapping did not make for a particularly good combination.

According to Wikipedia, Smash-Up was a failure at the box office and I can actually see why. 1940s American cinema can basically be divided between the earnest, patriotic, and optimistic films that were released during World War II and the dark and pessimistic films that came out after the war ended and the world realized just how evil and dangerous human beings could be. Smash-Up is one of those dark films. It’s not a happy film, nor is it at all subtle. In fact, as much as I love a good melodrama, Smash-Up occasionally seems like a bit much. Absolutely every bad thing that could happen does happen and it’s typical of the approach of Hollywood in the 40s that, for all the trouble Angie suffers as a result of her drinking, the film still has to find an excuse to send her to hospital with her face in bandages. The film is often very empathetic in its treatment of Angie but, in the 1940s, mistakes still had to be punished.

Fortunately, Susan Hayward gives a great performance in the role of Angie, capturing the aching sadness that leads her to drink in the first place. She saves the entire film and, quite justifiably, she received a nomination for best actress for her performance here. She didn’t win but she still made Smash-Up worth seeing.

The Fabulous Forties #39: My Man Godfrey (dir by Gregory La Cava)

Posted on June 9, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 38th film in Mill Creek’s Fabulous Forties box set was My Man Godfrey, which is strange considering that My Man Godfrey is not a 40s film. The back of the box insists that My Man Godfrey was made in 1946 but it was actually made in 1936. Errors like this aren’t uncommon when it comes to Mill Creek but, even beyond that simple mistake, My Man Godfrey is clearly not a product of the earnest and pro-American 1940s. My Man Godfrey may be a screwball comedy but it’s a comedy that is very much a product of the far more cynical 1930s. It’s a comedy that could only have come out during the Great Depression, at a time when FDR was promoting his New Deal and yet many Americans were still out-of-work and struggling to make ends meet, forgotten by a country determined to buy into a feel good narrative regardless of any evidence to the contrary.

But no matter! My Man Godfrey might not technically belong in the Fabulous Forties box set but I’m still glad that it was there because it is an absolutely fantastic film.

The Godfrey of the title is played by the always charming and always funny William Powell. When we first see him, he’s living in a garbage dump with several other men who have lost their money, homes, and family. These are men who spend their time wondering when and if things are ever going to get better. While the rest of the country insists that happy days are here again, these men know it’s simply not true. They are truly the forgotten men.

Fortunately, there’s also a scavenger hunt going on!

For charity, a group of rich people are running around the city and collecting various oddities. And among those oddities — “a forgotten man!” When wealthy and snobbish Cornelia Bullock (Gail Patrick) stops off at the dump, she offers Godfrey five dollars to come with her and be her “forgotten man.” Offended, Godfrey reprimands her and a shocked Cornelia stumbles back and falls into an ash pile. Cornelia’s younger sister, the flighty Irene (Carole Lombard), sees this and laughs. Mostly to get back at Cornelia, Godfrey agrees to be Irene’s forgotten man.

When Irene takes Godfrey to the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel so that the game’s organizers can declare him to be an authentic forgotten man, Godfrey is disgusted by the silly and wealthy people that he sees around him. After he is authenticated, Godfrey proceeds to loudly denounce everyone in the hotel. Every one is scandalized, except for Irene. Irene asks Godfrey if he would like to come home with her and be her family’s new butler. Reluctant but broke, Godfrey agrees.

One of the joys of this scene is seeing the other things people found during the scavenger hunt. Love the monkey.

Godfrey, however, is far less amused.

The next morning finds Godfrey in the Bullock mansion, prepared to start his duties as a butler. He turns out to be a surprisingly adept butler but there’s only one problem. It turns out that everyone was drunk last night and, as a result, nobody remembers Irene hiring Godfrey. As Godfrey reintroduced himself to the family, he gets to once again know the Bullocks.

For instance, patriarch Alexander Bullock (Eugene Pallette) is a well-meaning man but he’s incapable of controlling his eccentric family or their excessive spending. He faces each day with the weary resignation that his household is a disorganized mess and that he’s on the verge of losing his business.

Alexander’s wife, Angelica (Alice Brady), lives in her own world and confronts every problem with nonstop and delusional positivity. She is very excited to have taken on a protegé, an artist named Carlo (Mischa Auer, who was justifiably nominated for an Oscar for his wonderfully odd performance). Carlo is often surly and spoiled but he does do a pretty good impersonation of a gorilla. Whenever the often dramatic Irene is declaring herself to be the most miserable rich girl in the world, Angelica insists that Carlo cheer everyone up by grunting and jumping around the room.

Mischa Auer as Carlo

Mischa Auer as a gorilla

(Apparently, the gorilla impersonation was something that Auer used to do at Hollywood parties. The role of Carlo was specifically created with the idea of capturing Auer’s act on film. As a result, Auer was one of the first actors to ever be nominated for Best Supporting Actor and he started a new career as a comedic character actor.)

Cornelia is selfish and materialistic. Though she may not remember much about the scavenger hunt, she does remember Godfrey humiliating her. From the minute she discovers that Godfrey is the new butler, she starts to conspire against him. When her necklace disappears, everyone is sure that she hid it herself just to frame Godfrey. The truth, of course, is a little bit more complicated.

And finally, there’s Irene. Irene is spoiled but she’s not selfish. She’s also not as ditzy as everyone assumes. It’s just that she sees the world in her own unique way. Almost as soon as Irene remembers that she hired Godrey, she decides that she’s in love with him. She also decides that Godfrey is her protegé. After all, if her mother can have a protegé, why can’t she!?

Carole Lombard and William Powell

Carole Lombard was a masterful comedienne whose career was tragically cut short when she was killed in a plane crash in 1942. Lombard is absolutely adorable in the role of Irene, a character to whom I very much related.

Of course, there is more to Godfrey and his past than he actually let on. And, even after he becomes the new butler, Godfrey doesn’t forget where he was living just a few days before. My Man Godfrey is a hilarious comedy but it’s also a comedy with a social conscience.

I love this film. It’s a screwball comedy in the best sense of the term, a film where all of the characters are eccentric while also remaining human. William Powell and Carole Lombard were briefly married before they teamed up in My Man Godfrey and their chemistry is delightful to watch. Finally, the supporting cast is memorable in the way that only a collection of great 1930s character actors can be.

My Man Godfrey is a great film. It may not be from the 1940s but I’m glad it was included.

(By the way, just between you and me — I had a lot of fun watching this movie and writing this review. It kind of reminded me why I started writing about movies in the first place.)

The Fabulous Forties #38: The Devil Bat (dir by Jean Yarbrough)

Posted on June 8, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 37th film in Mill Creek’s Fabulous Forties box set was 1940’s The Devil Bat, which Gary Loggins reviewed on this site back in October. Since, for the most part, I agree with Gary’s review, I’m going to recommend that you go read it and then I’ll just add a few thoughts of my own.

The Devil Bat is usually described as being one of the films that Bela Lugosi made during his decline, even though he made it just a year after appearing in a supporting role in the Oscar-nominated Ninotchka. Lugosi plays Dr. Paul Carruthers, a small-town chemist who uses radiation to create a gigantic bat that he unleashes on everyone who he feels has wronged him. The bat targets anyone who makes the mistake of wearing an aftershave lotion that Carruthers has created.

I would argue that there is a hint of genius to be found within The Devil Bat.

First off, there’s the fact that the giant bat is so clearly fake that it actually becomes rather charming. Wisely, the film makes no effort to convince you that the bat is real. Whenever that big, fake bat is lowered in on a bunch of often-visible wires, it works as almost a Brechtian alienation device. In much the same way that Godard used jump cuts in Breathless, Devil Bat uses that big, fake bat to remind the audience that they are watching a film. As a result, the audience has no choice but to think about the conventions of the horror genre and how their own world view has been shaped by watching movies like Devil Bat.

The other hint of genius is the satirical masterstroke of casting Bela Lugosi as a small town chemist. Lugosi remains Lugosi, regardless of what role he plays. When the film’s characters accept, without even a second glance, that Bela Lugosi, with his thick accent and his theatrical acting style, is a humble suburbanite, the film becomes a perhaps inadvertent satire of American conformity.

Needless to say, Lugosi was always a far better actor than he has ever been given credit for being. In The Devil Bat, he plays Dr. Carruthers with a weary sense of resignation. Carruthers never becomes a standard evil villain. Instead, he’s a man who has been so beaten down by life that he now see no other option beyond using a giant bat to kill those who he feels has betrayed him. Much as he would in Ed Wood’s Bride of the Monster, Lugosi brings an almost redemptive sadness to his mad scientist.

The end result is that poor, misunderstood and underestimated Bela elevates the entire film.

The Fabulous Forties #37: Penny Serenade (dir by George Stevens)

Posted on June 8, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

How many tears can be jerked by one tear jerker?

How melodramatic can one melodrama get?

These are the type of questions that I found myself considering as I watched the 36th film in Mill Creek’s Fabulous Forties box set, 1941’s Penny Serenade.

Penny Serenade opens with Julie (Irene Dunne) announcing that she’s planning on leaving her husband, Roger (Cary Grant). Fortunately, before Julie goes through with her plan, she listens to a song called You Were Meant For Me. Perhaps not coincidentally, the song is included on an album called The Story Of A Happy Marriage. As she stares at the spinning vinyl, Julie starts to have flashbacks!

No, not flashbacks of the LSD kind. (Though, interestingly enough, Cary Grant was reportedly a big fan of LSD…) Instead, she has flashbacks of her marriage to Roger. We see how she first met Roger while she was working in a music store. Roger stopped by the store to tell her that a record was skipping and it was love at first sight. However, Roger had no interest in getting married. Or, at the least, he didn’t until Julie opened up a fortune cookie and read the fortune: “You get your wish — a baby!”

Julie continues to stare at the spinning record and we discover that eventually, she and Roger did get married. Julie did get pregnant but, as the result of an earthquake, she lost the baby. (Curse you, fortune cookie! CURSE YOU!) Meanwhile, Roger took over a small town newspaper and revealed himself to have absolutely no idea how to handle money.

Because of the earthquake, Julie will never be able to have a child. (DAMN YOU, FORTUNE COOKIE! DAMN YOU FOR YOUR LIES!) However, they can still adopt! She writes to Miss Oliver (Beulah Bondi), the head of the local orphanage. Julie demands to be given a baby with “blue eyes and curly hair.” Fortunately, Miss Oliver apparently has a surplus of curly-haired, blue-eyed babies but she’s still reluctant to approve the adoption. After all, Julie is such a terrible housekeeper! However, she is impressed by how much both Julie and Roger want a baby so Miss Oliver puts aside her concerns and allows them to have a baby for two years.

At the end of the two years, Roger and Julie have to go to an adoption hearing. Unfortunately, the paper has gone out of business, the family has absolutely no money, and the fortune cookie has stopped giving advice. Fortunately, Roger is Cary Grant and who can say no to Cary Grant? Roger promises the judge that he’ll always love and take care of the baby…

But that’s not all! The movie is not over yet. And even as Roger makes his plea, we can’t help but think about the fact that this movie is being told in flashback and that present day Julie is still planning on leaving Roger. Now, I’m not going to spoil the movie by going into why or revealing what happens in the end. I’ll just say that it involves more tragedy and more melodrama. In fact, it includes so much tragedy and so much melodrama, that it starts to get a little exhausting. How much bad stuff can happen to Cary Grant!?

And the record just keeps spinning…because what goes up must come down, spinning wheel got to go round…

Over the course of his long career, Cary Grant only received two Oscar nominations. Penny Serenade was his first nomination and, as a fan of Cary Grant’s comedies, it saddens me to say that Cary’s nominated performance really wasn’t that good. Watching this film, you can tell that Cary felt that this was his chance to prove himself as a dramatic actor and, as a result, he acts the Hell out of every scene. Of course, Cary’s undying popularity comes from the fact that he rarely seemed to be acting. His charm was in how natural he was. In Penny Serenade, he never seems natural. He’s trying too hard and it’s just odd to see Cary Grant trying too hard.

If you want to see Cary Grant at his best, check out The Awful Truth. Or maybe The Philadelphia Story. Those are two great films that prove that Cary Grant was a great actor. Even a rare misfire of a performance can’t change that fact.

Until next time…

Ride a painted pony, let the spinnin’ wheel spin. … Ride a painted pony, let the spinnin’ wheel turn.

The Fabulous Forties #36: Dishonored Lady (dir by Robert Stevenson)

Posted on June 8, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

15 to go!

That’s what I find myself thinking as I begin this review of the 35th film in Mill Creek’s Fabulous Forties box set. I’ve only got 15 more of these reviews to go and then I will be finished with the Fabulous Forties.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. Over the past two months, I’ve seen some very good movies from the 1940s — The Black Book, The Last Chance, Trapped, and a few others. However, I have also had to sit through things like Jungle Man, Freckles Comes Home, and Lil Abner. The Fabulous Forties has been an uneven collection, even by the standards of Mill Creek. However, the important thing is that I’m getting to discover films that I probably would otherwise have never known about. I love watching movies, even ones that don’t quite work.

Fortunately, the 35th film in the Fabulous Forties does work.

The 1947 film Dishonored Lady stars the beautiful Hedy Lamarr as Madeline Damien. Madeline would appear to have it all. She’s wealthy, she’s socially well-connected, she lives in Manhattan, and she has a glamorous job as the fashion editor of a slick magazine called Boulevard.

So, if Madeline’s life is so perfect, why does she end up crashing her car outside of the house of psychiatrist Richard Caleb (Morris Carnovsky)? Madeline says it was just an accident but Dr. Caleb immediately understands that she wrecked her car as part of a suicide attempt. He takes Madeline as a patient and we quickly learn that Madeline is actually on the verge of a nervous breakdown. When she’s not working, she’s usually drinking. When she’s not drinking or working, she’s having sex with almost every man she meets.

(Or, as the film primly insists, “making love” to every man she meets.)

And what’s remarkable is that, for a 1947 film, Dishonored Lady is rather sympathetic to Madeline. While it portrays her lifestyle as being self-destructive, it doesn’t condemn her. It doesn’t attempt to argue that her problems are a fitting punishment for her decisions, as opposed to so many other 1940s films. Even when Dr. Caleb’s counseling leads to Madeline quitting her job, the film refrains from criticizing Madeline for wanting to have a career. Instead, it simply suggests that Boulevard is a toxic environment, almost entirely because of the sleazy men that Madeline has to deal with on a daily basis.

Madeline ends up renting a small apartment and rediscovering her love for painting. Speaking of love, she also falls in love with her neighbor, Dr. David Cousins (Dennis O’Keefe). At first, she doesn’t tell David anything about her past but, when she’s falsely accused of murder, she has no choice but to tell him everything. Will David stand by her or will he prove to be yet another disappointment? And will Madeline be able to prove her innocence even while her past in put on trial?

I really liked Dishonored Lady. It’s a surprisingly intelligent film and Hedy Lamarr gives a great performance in the role of Madeline. Dishonored Lady proved to be a pleasant surprise and you can watch it below!

That’s Entertainment!: TIME OUT FOR RHYTHM (Columbia 1941)

Posted on June 7, 2016 by gary loggins

cracked rear viewer

Most of you “Cracked Rear Viewers” know I run an occasional series titled ‘Cleaning Out the DVR’, where I do capsule reviews of five or six different films. TIME OUT FOR RHYTHM was going to be included in my next ‘DVR’ entry, but after watching it, I’ve decided to give it the full treatment. This has happened only once before (see PENELOPE). It’s a 40’s B-movie lovers dream, a second-tier all-star musical comedy, and it gives The Three Stooges probably their best feature showcase of the 40’s. Plus the tap-dancing wonders of lovely, leggy Texan Ann Miller. Now how can you beat that!

The plot’s as old as film musicals themselves: theatrical agents Rudy Vallee and Richard Lane become successful, and develop a hit show. Lane’s former flame (Rosemary Lane, no relation) comes between them, and the partners break up. Vallee and sidekick Offbeat (comic Allen Jenkins) discover Rosemary’s maid (our girl Ann)…

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Lisa Reviews An Oscar Nominee and It’s Damn Important: The Hollywood Revue of 1929 (dir by Charles Reisner)

Posted on June 7, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

Last night, I really needed a break from thinking about this stupid, asinine presidential election that we have coming up here in the U.S. Fortunately, TCM provided me with one by showing The Hollywood Revue of 1929!

The Hollywood Revue of 1929 is probably one of the most obscure film to ever be nominated for best picture. It’s a plotless collection of songs and comedy bits, all performed by actors who were under contract to MGM. In fact, the movie might be best described as a two-hour commercial for MGM. The message of the film seems to be: “Now that movies have sound, look what MGM can do!”

With the exception of Greta Garbo and Lon Chaney, every MGM star makes an appearance in Hollywood Revue. Everyone sings a song and does a dance, even if some of them are better singers and dancers than others. The revue is hosted by Conrad Nagel (who looks very dapper in a tux but still seems to be strangely uncomfortable with his hosting duties) and Jack Benny (who plays his violin and gets annoyed every time he’s interrupted by an MGM stock player). Joan Crawford (who Nagal describes as being “one of my favorites”) sings, “Got A Feeling For You,” and she may be off-key but you can’t help but appreciate the fact that she’s doing her best. Buster Keaton does a dance. Laurel and Hardy perform a magic act that doesn’t go very well. Marion Davies does a tribute to the military and I’m sure that, somewhere, William Randolph Hearst was smiling. Chorus girls sit in the background and smile at the camera and, as someone who knows what it’s like to be in the chorus, I enjoyed watching as a few of the smarter and braver ones attempted to steal the audience’s attention away from the headliners.

At one point, Jack Benny reached into his suit jacket and revealed that a miniature version of actress Bessie Love was apparently living in the pocket. He held Bessie in the palm of his hand and proceeded to have a conversation with her and all I could think about was the end of Mulholland Drive, when that tiny old couple cornered Naomi Watts in her apartment. When Benny placed Bessie on the ground, she grew to normal height and sang a song.

During the second half of the film, silent screen star John Gilbert plays the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet, opposite Norma Shearer. First he does it in Shakespeare’s words and then he does it again in 1929 language. Lionel Barrymore directs them. Interestingly enough, Shearer (who was married to The Hollywood Revue‘s producer, Irving Thalberg) would later play Juliet in 1936’s Romeo and Juliet. Barrymore, though best remembered as Mr. Potter from It’s A Wonderful Life, actually was a prominent film director in 1929 and would even invent the boom mic. As for Gilbert, legend has it that the Hollywood Revue was the first time that audiences actually heard him speak and they were so unimpressed with his voice that his career ended. Having now seen Gilbert speak — well, he didn’t have the greatest or sexiest voice but he still sounded better than Jean Hagen did in Singin’ In The Rain.

Speaking of Singin’ In the Rain, that song was specifically written for Hollywood Revue! The entire cast sings it at the end of the film.

Seen today, there’s something charming about how old-fashioned and corny The Hollywood Revue is. I imagine that some people will laugh at it but, honestly, it’s still more entertaining than that stupid live version of The Sound of Music that they put on TV two years ago. The Hollywood Revue is basically the classic film equivalent of a high school talent show, where everyone does their best and a good deal of the charm comes from seeing how silly it all is. If you love TCM, you’ll enjoy seeing all the Golden Age performers trying to do their best. If you don’t love TCM, then go to Hell.

The Hollywood Revue is usually listed as being a nominee for best picture. Actually, the truth is a little bit more complicated. For the 2nd annual Academy Awards, there were no nominees. Instead, the awards were determined by a select committee and only the winners were announced. Much like the Cannes Film Festival, no film received more than one award. Broadway Melody (which starred Hollywood Revue‘s Bessie Love) was named best picture.

However, notes were kept of the committee’s meeting and those notes indicate that Hollywood Revue was considered as a possible pick for best picture. Hence, Hollywood Revue is considered to be a best picture nominee even though there were no official nominees that year.

Anyway, if you’re a classic film lover, keep an eye out for Hollywood Revue the next time that it shows up on TCM!

Tag Team Turmoil: …ALL THE MARBLES (MGM 1981)

Posted on June 4, 2016 by gary loggins

cracked rear viewer

Before Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, before Hulk Hogan and Roddy Piper , the worlds of professional wrestling and the movies had long been entwined. After all, they’re both show biz! Grapplers like Nat Pendleton , Mike Mazurki, Tor Johnson , Harold Sakata (GOLDFINGER’s Oddjob), and Lenny Montana (Luca Brasi in THE GODFATHER) made the successful transition from the squared circle to Hollywood, not to mention Mexican luchadores like El Santo and Mil Mascaras, who starred in the ring and in their own series of movies south of the border. Even early TV wrestling phenom Gorgeous George had his own feature film, 1949’s ALIAS THE CHAMP.

1981’s …ALL THE MARBLES was made just before the Hulkamania craze started a boom in pro wrestling’s popularity. It’s a serio-comic character study centering on small time manager Harry Sears and his two young charges Iris and Molly, better known as tag team The California Dolls. Harry and Iris…

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Insomnia File No. 17: The Suburbans (dir by Donal Lardner Ward)

Posted on June 4, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

What’s an Insomnia File? You know how some times you just can’t get any sleep and, at about three in the morning, you’ll find yourself watching whatever you can find on cable? This feature is all about those insomnia-inspired discoveries!

Last night, if you were still awake at 3:45 in the morning, you could have turned over to Starz and watched the 1999 comedy, The Suburbans!

And, in all probability, you would have fallen asleep before it was over.

This film tells the story of four guys who used to be in a band. The name of the band was The Suburbans and, in 1980, they had a hit with a song called … wait … what the Hell was that song called? See, this is an example of how slapdash The Suburbans was. The whole point of the film is that they had a hit song but the movie goes off in some many different and random tangents that I can’t even remember what the name of this very important song was. All I remember is that the song didn’t really sound like it would ever be a hit (no, not even in the 80s) and that the four guys really didn’t seem like they would ever be rock stars.

Anyway, The Suburbans only had that one hit and now, nearly twenty years later, all the band members are leading conventional lives in the suburbs. Oddly, they all appear to live in the same suburb and they’re all still best friends. Craig Bierko is the former lead guitarist, who is now a doctor of some sort. Will Ferrell (yes, that Will Ferrell) is the former bass player who now works with computers. Tony Guma is the overweight drummer who is at the center of a lot of scenes, presumably because Guma co-wrote the script. Donal Lardner Ward is the former lead singer. Along with starring in the film, Ward also directed it. That might explain why, despite not being a very interesting character, everyone in the film is portrayed as being in love with him.

The Suburbans briefly reunite to play at Ferrell’s wedding. A music executive (Jennifer Love Hewitt) happens to be at the wedding. It turns out that she used to love The Suburbans and their one hit! (The problem is that Jennifer Love Hewitt was only 20 when this film was made, which means that, when the Suburbans were famous, she would have only been a year old.) She arranges for The Suburbans to reunite for a pay-per-view special and…

…and then a lot of stuff happens. And I do mean a lot of stuff. But what’s odd is none of that stuff adds up to anything. Ward’s girlfriend (played by Amy Brenneman) is briefly threatened by Hewitt but, fear not — Donal Lardner Ward is the world’s greatest guy! Occasionally, one member of the Suburbans might argue with another member of the Suburbans but fear not — they’re all great guys!

What’s funny is that, after spending 81 minutes with these characters and listening to their oppressively relentless quippy dialogue, you still don’t feel like you know a damn thing about any of them. You never even find out how The Suburbans first got together or what inspired them to write their one hit in the first place. Nor do you find out why they broke up. They’re just sort of there and we’re supposed to care.

I guess I should mention that Ben and Jerry Stiller are both in the film. They play Hewitt’s bosses and it’s painful to watch both of them. Apparently, the director just said, “Ben, say something funny!” and the result was an endless scene of Ben Stiller saying whatever popped into his head.

(I should also probably mention that J.J. Abrams produced this movie. Yes, that J.J. Abrams…)

If you track down the Suburbans on DVD, you’ll notice that the cover art is pretty much centered around Jennifer Love Hewitt and Will Ferrell. What’s funny is that neither Hewitt nor Ferrel really get to do much in the movie. (That said, Ferrell’s performance is enjoyably odd, even if it does feel totally out of the place.) The entire movie is centered around Tony Guma and Donal Lardner Ward. After all, they wrote and directed the damn thing. So, I guess if you’re a Tony Guma fan, The Suburbans is the movie for you!

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