Basically, Armand Vernoy (Jean Del Val) is haunted by not only the death of Indian his wife but also the fact that he’s lost all of his money “in the war” and will not be able to send his son, Krishna (George Hamilton) off to study with the world-renowned Prof. Charles Goncourt (Boris Karloff, who not only hosts but gets to play a kindly character for once). Then a young woman named Santha Naidu (Lee Torrance) shows up. She’s a year younger than Krishna but she claims to be his mother, reincarnated! Meanwhile, back in India, a young man hopes to marry Santha but he’s been told that he can’t because she’s already been married in a previous life….
This is an okay episode, though definitely not as good as some of the previous episodes of The Veil. Boris doesn’t get to do much but it’s kind of nice to see him play a character who is as nice as he apparently was in real life. If this episode were made today, the casting of Torrance and Hamilton as Indians would undoubtedly be extremely controversial.
The intense 1953 film noir, The Hitch-Hiker, begins with news of a murderer at large.
His name is Emmett Myers (William Talman). He’s the rough-looking man who you might occasionally see standing by the side of the road, asking for a ride with his thumb outstretched. For me, it only takes one look at Myers’s unfriendly face and his shifty eyes to know that I would never slow down to give him a ride. However, The Hitch-Hiker takes place in a more innocent era, at a time when everyone wanted to be of help. Anyone who gives Emmett a ride ends up dead. He steals their cars and then drives across country, abandoning the car only when he learns that his previous murder has been discovered. Emmett has hitchhiked from Illinois to Southern California and he’s left a trail of dead bodies behind him.
Roy Collins (Edmond O’Brien) and Gilbert Bowen (Frank Lovejoy) don’t know who Emmett is. They’ve missed all of the reports about Emmett’s killing spree. They haven’t read the newspapers, all of which feature a picture of Emmett on the front page and a warning to never pick him up. Roy and Gilbert have been too busy getting ready for a long-planned fishing trip in Baja California. When they see Emmett hitchhiking in Mexico, they pull over and offer him a ride.
Unlike other movie hitchhikers, Emmett doesn’t waste any time before revealing who he is. As soon as he gets in the car, he pulls a gun and tells the two men that they’re going to drive him deeper into Baja California. He’s got a boat to catch and he says that all the two men have to do is follow orders. Of course, both Roy and Gilbert know better. They know that Emmett’s planning on killing them as soon as they arrive at their destination. In fact, if Emmett learns that the police are looking for the two men, he’ll kill them sooner. Roy and Gilbert not only have to keep Emmett from flying off the handle but they also have to keep him from discovering that both of them have been reported as being missing.
As the three men drive across California, Emmett continues to taunt his prisoners. Repeatedly, he points out that the only reason they’re in this situation is because of their loyalty to each other. As Emmett explains it, if the two men tried to run in opposite directions, Emmett would probably only be able to kill one of them. If the two men both attacked him, Emmett would again probably only have time to kill one before the survivor subdued him. Will Roy and Gilbert remains loyal to each other or will they finally embrace Emmett’s philosophy of every man for himself?
Oh, how you’ll hate Emmett Myers! As played by William Talman, Emmett is not just a criminal but a bully as well. The enjoyment that he gets out of taunting Roy and Gilbert will make your skin crawl. Emmett is hardly the type of witty or charming master criminal who often shows up in movies today. Instead, The Hitch-Hiker emphasizes that Emmett’s an idiot but, because he has the gun, he has the power. Edmond O’Brien and Frank Lovejoy are also well-cast as the two friends who are forced to choose between survival and loyalty.
The Hitch-Hiker was one of the few films to be directed by a woman in the 1950s. (It’s generally considered to be the only film noir to have been directed by a woman.) Ida Lupino was not only an actress but also the only female director in the old Hollywood system and she made several hard-hitting films, the majority of which dealt with the type of issues that mainstream Hollywood was still too scared to handle. With The Hitch-Hiker, Lupino emphasizes not only Emmett’s cruelty but also the bonds of friendship between Emmett’s two hostages. Visually, she makes the wide open desert appears as menacing and as dangerous as any shadowy city street. If urban noirs often suggested that threats could be hiding anywhere, The Hitch-Hiker takes the opposite approach. The threat is in the back seat of the car and there’s literally no place to hide.
The Hitch-Hiker is an intense film that holds up well today. Watch it below and never again make the mistake of helping out a stranger.
(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 Casablancais 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.
Through the Shattered Lens 