The great Cary Grant was born 120 years ago today.
In honor of Cary Grant’s legendary career and screen charm, today’s scene that I love comes from one of my favorite Cary Grant movies. This is also one of my favorite Ingrid Bergman films and one of my favorite Alfred Hitchock films and even one of my favorite Claude Rains films. 1946’s Notorious is a favorite all-around!
The 1945 Best Picture nominee, Spellbound, tells the story of Dr. Constance Petersen (Ingrid Bergman), a psychoanalyst at a mental hospital in my least favorite state, Vermont.
Constance has fallen in love with a man (Gregory Peck) who she believes to be Dr. Anthony Edwardes, the newly appointed director of the hospital. Dr. Edwardes is youngish and handsome and idealistic and authoritative …. well, he’s Gregory Peck. However, he also has an intense phobia about seeing any set of parallel lines. Curious to discover the reason for Edwardes’s phobia, Constance does a little digging on her own and discovers that Dr. Anthony Edwardes is not a doctor at all! Instead, he’s a guilt-stricken amnesiac who is convinced that he murdered Dr. Edwardes and took his place!
Constance, however, doesn’t believe that the Amnesiac is a murderer. She thinks that he is suffering from some sort of deep-rooted guilt that had led him to believe that killed the doctor. She wants a chance to psychoanalyze him and discover the truth about his background. Unfortunately, the police do think that the Amnesiac is a murderer and their determined to arrest him.
Constance and the Amnesiac go on the run, heading to the home of Constance’s mentor, Dr. Alexander Brulov (Michael Chekhov, the nephew of Anton Chekhov). With Brulov’s help, Constance analyzes a dream that the Amensiac had, one involving curtains decorated with eyes, the faceless proprietor of a casino, and a man falling off a mountain. Can Constance and Brulov solve the mystery of the Amnesiac’s identity before the police take him away to prison?
Spellbound was the last of the four Hitchcock best picture nominees and it was also the last film that Hitchcock made for producer David O. Selznick. Selznick was quite a fan of psychoanalysis and he insisted that Hitchcock not only make a movie about it but that he also use Selznick’s own therapist as a technical advisor on the project. Hitchcock, for his part, was able to bring in the surrealist Salvador Dali to help design the Amnesiac’s dream sequence but Selznick felt that the 20-minute sequence was too long and too weird and, as a result, it was cut down to two minutes for the final film. All this considered, it’s not a surprise that, despite the fact that Spellbound was a hit with critics and audiences, Hitchcock himself didn’t care much for it and considered it to be more of a Selznick film than a Hitchcock film. And it is true that the film’s total faith is psychoanalysis feels more like something one would expect to hear from a trendy producer than from a director like Hitchcock, who was known for both his dark wit and his rather cynical attitude towards anyone in authority.
For a film like Spellbound to truly work, there has to be some doubt about who the Amnesiac is. For the suspense to work, the audience has to feel that there’s at least a chance, even if it’s only a slight one, that the Amnesiac actually could be a murderer, despite the attempts of Constance and Brulov to prove that he’s not. And Spellbound is full of scenes that are meant to leave the audience wondering about whether or not the Amnesiac should be trusted. However, because the Amnesiac is played by Gregory Peck, there’s really no doubt that he’s innocent. Hitchcock was not particularly happy with Gregory Peck as his leading man. Peck projected a solid, middle-American integrity. It made him ideal for heroic and crusading roles but made him totally wrong for any role that required ambiguity. It’s difficult to believe that the Amnesiac is suffering from a guilt complex because it’s difficult to believe that Gregory Peck has ever done anything for which he should feel guilty. Cary Grant could have played the Amnesiac. Post-war Jimmy Stewart could have done an excellent job with the role. But Peck is just too upstanding and stolid for the role. In a role that calls from neurosis, Peck is kind of boring.
That said, the rest of the cast is fine, with Ingrid Bergman giving one of her best performance as Constance and Michael Chekhov bringing some needed nuance to a role that could have turned into a cliché. Leo G. Carroll has a small but pivotal role and he does a good job keeping the audience guessing as to his motivation. Even at a truncated two minutes, the Dali dream sequence is memorably bizarre and the famous shot of a gun pointed straight at the camera still carries a kick. This is a lesser Hitchcock film but, that said, it’s still a Hitchcock film and therefore worth viewing.
As I mentioned previously, this was the last of Hitchcock’s films to be nominated for Best Picture. Ironically, his best films — Rear Window, Vertigo, and Psycho among them — were yet to come. Spellbound was nominated for six Oscars but only won for Miklos Rozsa’s score. (Ingrid Bergman was nominated for Best Actress that year, not for her role in Spellbound but instead for The Bells of St. Mary’s.) The big Oscar winner that year was Billy Wilder’s The Lost Weekend.
There’s been a murder on the Orient Express!
In the middle of the night, a shady American businessman (Richard Widmark) was stabbed to death. Now, with the train momentarily stalled due to a blizzard, its up to the world’s greatest detective, Hercule Poirot (Albert Finney), to solve the crime. With only hours to go before the snow is cleared off the tracks and the case is handed over to the local authorities, Hercule must work with Bianchi (Martin Balsam) and Dr. Constantine (George Coulouris) to figure out who among the all-star cast is a murderer.
Is it the neurotic missionary played by Ingrid Bergman? Is it the diplomat played by Michael York or his wife, played by Jacqueline Bisset? Is it the military man played by Sean Connery? How about Anthony Perkins or John Gielgud? Maybe it’s Lauren Bacall or could it be Wendy Hiller or Rachel Roberts or even Vanessa Redgrave? Who could it be and how are they linked to a previous kidnapping, one that led to the murder of an infant and the subsequent death of everyone else in the household?
Well, the obvious answer, of course, is that it had to be Sean Connery, right? I mean, we’ve all seen From Russia With Love. We know what that man is capable of doing on a train. Or what about Dr. No? Connery shot a man in cold blood in that one and then he smirked about it. Now, obviously, Connery was playing James Bond in those films but still, from the minute we see him in Murder on the Orient Express, we know that he’s a potential killer. At the height of his career, Connery had the look of a killer. A sexy killer, but a killer nonetheless….
Actually, the solution to the mystery is a bit more complicated but you already knew that. One of the more challenging things about watching the 1974 version of Murder on the Orient Express is that, in all probability, the viewer will already know how the victim came to be dead. As convoluted as the plot may be, the solution is also famous enough that even those who haven’t seen the 1974 film, the remake, or read Agatha Christie’s original novel will probably already know what Poirot is going to discover.
That was something that director Sidney Lumet obviously understood. Hence, instead of focusing on the mystery, he focuses on the performers. His version of Murder on the Orient Express is full of character actors who, along with being talented, were also theatrical in the best possible way. The film is essentially a series of monologues, with each actor getting a few minutes to show off before Poirot stepped up to explain what had happened. None of the performances are exactly subtle but it doesn’t matter because everyone appears to be having a good time. (Finney, in particular, seems to fall in love with his occasionally indecipherable accent.) Any film that has Anthony Perkins, John Gielgud, Lauren Bacall, Sean Connery, Ingrid Bergman, and Albert Finney all acting up a storm is going to be entertaining to watch.
Though it’s been a bit overshadowed by the Kenneth Branagh version, the original Murder on the Orient Express holds up well. I have to admit that Sidney Lumet always seems like he would have been a bit of an odd choice to direct this film. I mean, just consider that he made this film in-between directing Serpico and Dog Day Afternoon. However, Lumet pulls it off, largely by staying out of the way of his amazing cast and letting them act up a storm. It looks like it was a fun movie to shoot. It’s certainly a fun movie to watch, even if we do already know the solution.
You won’t find a more glamorous pair of spies than Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman in Alfred Hitchcock’s NOTORIOUS… except maybe in other films that feature Cary Grant as a spy! The Master of Suspense once again goes full speed ahead in bringing this exciting espionage caper to the screen loaded with the usual “Hitchcock Touches”, and […]
via Spy in the House of Love: Alfred Hitchcock’s NOTORIOUS (RKO 1946) — cracked rear viewer
Longtime readers of this blog know CASABLANCA is my all-time favorite film. It’s blend of stars, supporting cast, script, direction, drama, romance, and humor is the perfect example of 1940’s Hollywood storytelling, when Tinseltown was at the peak of its moviemaking powers . I’ve seen the film at least 80 times in many different formats, from broadcast television to cable and satellite, from VHS to DVD to DVR, but never before on the big screen – until this past Sunday, that is!
Fathom Events, in conjunction with TCM, presents classic films on a monthly basis in theaters across the country. In my area, they’re shown at Regal Cinemas in Swansea, MA, a half hour drive down the highway. I’ve been tempted to make the trip a few times, but never got around to it for one reason or another. But when I heard CASABLANCA was this month’s feature, I knew…
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After I watched The Pride of the Yankees, it was time to watch For Whom The Bell Tolls on TCM. Based on the classic novel by Ernest Hemingway, the film version of For Whom The Bell Tolls was released in 1943 and, when I first started watching it, I was a little bit worried.
For, you see, For Whom The Bell Tolls is an extremely long film. It’s a film that takes its time. It’s also a very talky film and I have to admit that one reason I was worried was because the movie started at 11:30 and it was scheduled to last until 2:15 a.m. Oh my God, I wondered, as the film started to slowly play out before me, am I going to end up dozing off before this is finished?
Well, I need not have worried. Yes, For Whom The Bell Tolls does take a while to get started but it all pays off in the end. By the time the film concludes, you realize why it had to take its time and why we had to spend so much time listening to these characters talk about what they did in the past, why they’re doing what they’re doing in the present, and what they’re hoping for in the future.
Not that all of the characters have a future. At the start of the film, Robert Jordan (Gary Cooper) gets his palm read by Pilar (Katina Paxinou). Pilar refuses to tell him what she saw in his future but it’s not difficult to guess. Robert is on a suicide mission and everyone knows it. Even when he falls in love with the beautiful Maria (Ingrid Bergman), he does so with the knowledge that he’ll be dead in just a few days.
Robert is an idealistic American who, as the film opens, is in Spain. It’s the 1930s and Spain is embroiled in a civil war between fascists and guerrillas … well, if you’ve read Hemingway’s novel, you know that the guerrillas are communists. But this is a Hollywood film so, for the most part, we don’t hear much about ideology. But, then again, audiences in 1943 undoubtedly remembered the Spanish Civil War and understood that the guerrillas were fighting the forces of Gen. Francisco Franco. And, for audiences today, all that matters it that the guerrillas are trying to overthrow a government. Seriously, who doesn’t want to see the government overthrown?
(Full disclosure: My grandmother on my mother’s side came to this country from Spain and frequently insisted that Franco had not been that bad. At the time, not knowing one way or the other, I usually just smiled and nodded.)
Robert is fighting on the side of the guerrillas. In four days, a major offensive is going to be launched against the fascists and, in order to keep fascist forces from pursuing the guerrillas, Robert has been assigned to blow up a mountain bridge. Robert knows that he won’t survive this mission and, as he waits to die, he camps out with a small guerrilla band that is led by Pablo (Akim Tamiroff). At first, Pablo refuses to take part in a mission that he considers to be futile but he is overruled by his strong-willed wife, Pilar (Katina Paxinou).
Among Pablo’s group is the beautiful Maria (Ingrid Bergman), a young woman whose family was killed by the fascist forces. Robert and Maria fall in love, even as Robert prepares for his eventual death.
And then, finally, after two hours of screen time, Robert and the guerrillas head for that bridge and suddenly, we understand why the film took its time to reach this point. By the time Robert reaches the bridge, we’ve come to know and care about both him and the other guerrillas. And, as a result, we care about whether or not they survive. When the fascists launch their own counter attack, every death counts. We feel the loss of every casualty and we understand what they’re dying for. After two hours of talk, For Whom The Bell Tolls ends with a genuinely exciting and even moving action sequence. It all leads up to a final shot that will blow you away in more ways than one.
From Whom The Bell Tolls is a film that will reward those with the patience to stick with it and I’m glad that I turned out to be one of those people. It was nominated for Best Picture of 1943 but lost to another film about an anti-fascist who fought in Spain, Casablanca.
(This review contains spoilers but seriously, you should know all of this already.)
Is there anything left to be said about Casablanca?
Probably not.
As a film reviewer, I’m not supposed to admit that. I’m supposed to come up with some sort of new, out-of-nowhere, batshit crazy way to look at Casablanca. I’m supposed to argue that Rick was actually meant to be a survivor of abuse or that Victor Laszlo was some sort of precursor to President Obama or something. Or, if that doesn’t work, I’m supposed to intentionally troll everyone by writing something like, “10 reasons why Casablanca is overrated” or “I hate Casablanca and I don’t care who knows it!”
But I’m not going to do that.
The fact of the matter is that Casablanca is as good a film as everyone says it is. It is a film that everyone should see. It is a film that quite rightfully was named best picture of 1943. It deserves to be celebrated. It deserves to be seen. In fact, stop reading this review right now and go watch it. Don’t let me waste another second of your time.
The thing with Casablanca is that it’s such an iconic film that everyone knows what happens, regardless of whether they’ve actually watched the entire film or not. They know that the film takes place in Casablanca during World War II. They know that Casablanca is full of refugees, spies, and people who are hiding from their past. They know that Casablanca is policed by the charmingly corrupt Capt. Louis Renault (Claude Rains). They know that Major Strasser (Conrad Veidt) is the Nazi in charge. (I nearly said that Strasser was the “evil Nazi in charge” but when you identify someone as a Nazi, is it really necessary to add that they’re evil?) They know that Rick (Humphrey Bogart) is the American expatriate who owns Rick’s Cafe Americain and that everyone comes to Rick’s. They know that Rick’s slogan is that he doesn’t stick his neck out for anyone but they also know that his cynicism hides the fact that he’s still in love with Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman). They know that when Ilsa shows up at Rick’s and needs him to help her husband, Victor Laszlo (Paul Henreid), escape from Occupied Europe, Rick is forced to decide whether or not to get involved in the resistance.
And, whether you’ve seen the film or not, you know that it all ends on a foggy airstrip. Ilsa wants to stay in Casablanca with Rick but Rick tells her that she has to get on the plane with Laszlo because, if she doesn’t, she’ll regret it. Ilsa goes with Laszlo, leaving Rick behind.
And it may have been the right thing to do but how many viewers would have done the same if they had been in Ilsa’s high heels? Throughout the entire movie, we hear about how wonderful Laszlo is but, whenever he actually shows up on screen, it’s always a little bit surprising to discover just how boring a character Victor Laszlo really is. Unlike the troubled and deceptively cynical Rick, there’s not much going on underneath the surface with Laszlo. Just as Rick overshadows Laszlo, Bogart’s performance overshadows Paul Henreid’s. Bogart and Bergman have all the chemistry and the charisma. Henreid, on the other hand, comes across as stiff and a little dull. But, as the film suggests, World War II was not a time for self-doubt and self-interest. World War II was a time when the world needed straight-forward, determined men like Victor Laszlo.
And, if the world needed Laszlo and Laszlo needed Ilsa, then that meant Ilsa had to get on that plane.
That said, I’ve always liked to think that Ilsa ended up leaving Laszlo in 1945 and immediately made her way back to Morocco. Rick and Ilsa belonged together.
But until Ilsa comes back, Rick has his friendship with Renault. “Louis,” he says, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Did Bogart realize, when he delivered that line, that literally thousands of people would be repeating it decades later? Bogart’s performance is probably one of the most imitated performances of all time. Anyone who sees Casablanca thinks that they can talk about gin joints and hills of beans in Bogart’s trademark style. Of course, they can’t and it’s a testament to the power of Bogart’s performance that it remains effective even after being endlessly imitated.
On Valentine’s Day of 2014, I saw Casablanca at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin. It was an amazing and romantic experience. See Casablanca on the big screen. It’ll make you love life and bring life to your love.
Needless to say, Casablanca is an intimidating film to review. So, I’ll just say this: Casablanca is even better than you think it is. If you haven’t seen it, go watch it. If you have seen it, go watch it again.
Just resist the temptation to say, “Play it again, Sam,” in your best Bogart-like voice.
Because, seriously, Rick never actually says that line.
Will make it short but sweet. Happy Valentines from everyone here at Through the Shattered Lens.
What better way to celebrate today than with one of the most romantic scenes in cinematic history. Classic romance for a classy time.
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!
Through the Shattered Lens 