For today’s Horror on the Lens, we have 1972’s Tales From The Crypt, a British anthology film which features The Crypt Keeper (Ralph Richardson) informing five strangers of how they will die. This classic, all-star film was based on stories that originally appeared in the Tales From The Crypt comic book.
In general, I’m not a huge fan of anthology films but Tales From The Crypt is an exception to that role. It’s an entertaining collection of macabre stories and the cast is to die for …. maybe literally!
This Amicus-produced movie is probably best remembered for the segment in which Joan Collins is menaced by an evil Santa but the whole thing is good.
The 1938 Best Picture nominee, The Citadel, is about a doctor who briefly loses his way but — don’t worry! — he eventually finds it again.
The film opens with the following title card:
This motion picture is a story of individual characterizations and is in no way intended as a reflection on the great medical profession which has done so much towards beating back those forces of nature that retard the physical progress of the human race.
Having gotten that out of the way, it goes on to tell the story of Dr. Andrew Manson (Robert Donat), an idealistic British doctor who serves his apprenticeship in rural England and who eventually ends up in Wales, trying to figure out why all of the miners seem to developing a mysterious cough. Along the way, he marries the always supportive Christine (Rosalind Russell, doing a lot with an underwritten role). Unfortunately, Dr. Manson discovers that being a doctor is not always an easy life. He’s frequently underpaid and underappreciated. His patients are often suspicious and argumentative and the medical establishment is hesitant to accept change. When the frustrated Dr. Manson returns to London, he discovers that he can make a fortune by working as a doctor for the type of wealthy people who are always willing to spend a little extra money on the latest fad treatment. With the encouragement of the decadent Dr. Lawford (Rex Harrison), Manson abandons his old ways and he’s finally able to make some money off of patients who will basically do anything that he tells them to do. However, a personal tragedy forces Manson to reexamine his life and consider why he became a doctor in the first place.
The Citadel is a coming-of-age film, one the follows Dr. Manson from the time when he’s a young doctor in need of a mentor until he himself is the one who is doing the mentoring. It gets off to a bit of a slow start. To be honest, I found Manson’s early apprenticeship to be almost as tedious as Dr. Manson found it to be. Things pick up a bit once Manson is on his own, fighting for the rights of miners or trying to find some sort of ethical justification for only treating the rich. If Robert Donat seems oddly hesitant during the first half of the film, he’s undeniably compelling during the second half. Though Dr. Manson has many scenes in which he rails against ignorance and injustice, Donat wisely resists the temptation to go overboard while portraying his indignation and, as a result, The Citadel never slips into melodrama. Donat doesn’t play Manson as being a crusader but instead as just being an often frustrated professional who knows that he’s being prevented from doing his best work. Director King Vidor, who made several films about thwartded visionaries, was never a particularly subtle director but Donat’s performance goes a long way towards making Vidor’s messianic tendencies tolerable.
Donat gets good support from the rest of the cast, especially Ralph Richardson in the role of his sometimes mentor. That said, Donat is still definitely the main reason to watch The Citadel, which is an uneven thought ultimately worthwhile film. The Citadel is very much a film of 1938 and it’s slow pace, earnest seriousness, and dialogue-heavy style will undoubtedly be an issue for some people watching the film in 2021. Watching a film like The Citadel today requires a willingness to adjust to the aesthetics of a past age. This is a film that will definitely be best-appreciated by those who aren’t unfamiliar with spending an entire weekend watching TCM. But you know what? It’s good to watch old movies. You can’t understand the present or prepare for the future if you’re not willing to look at the past.
The Academy nominated The Citadel for Best Picture. It was one of the first British films to be so honored (though not the first, that honor went to The Private Life of Henry VIII). However, it lost to Frank Capra’s You Can’t Take It With You. Though Robert Donat lost the Oscar for Best Actor to Spencer Tracy in Boys Town, he would be rewarded the very next year for his performance in Goodbye Mr. Chips. Among those who Donat defeated was Clark Gable, nominated for playing Rhett Butler in Gone With The Wind, a characters that Margaret Mitchell always said she envisioned as being played by Robert Donat.
King Xerxes (David Farrar), the ruler of Persia, is leading his armies across the ancient world, conquering every nation that he comes to. Xerxes is quick to proclaim that his vision is to have “one world ruled by one master” but really, he’s mostly just trying to prove that he’s as fearsome a conqueror as his father was. Like most authoritarians, he’s really just dealing with his own psychological issues.
When Xerxes sets his eyes on Greece, he assumes that he’ll easily be able to conquer the country. Greece, after all, is divided into several city states and everyone knows that the cities are rarely willing to work together. However, 300 Spartan warriors — led by King Leonidis (Richard Egan) — are willing to stand their ground and hold off Xerxes’s forces for as long as possible. Despite the fact that they’re outnumbered and have no way of knowing if reinforcements will ever arrive, the 300 Spartans are willing to do whatever it takes to protect their freedom. They know that they probably won’t survive the battle but none of them are going to surrender. Better to die than be enslaved.
If the plot of 1962’s The 300 Spartans sounds familiar, that’s probably because it’s based on the same historical events that inspired 300. The 300 Spartans essentially tells the same story and even has many of the same themes as Zack Snyder’s later film. The main difference, of course, is that The 300 Spartans tells it story in a much less stylized manner. Indeed, while 300 tended to kind of take place in a dream-world, one that was designed to highlight the legendary elements of the story, The 300 Spartans very much takes place in the real world, with the actors playing the ancient warrions standing on the same ground that Leonidis and his 300 Spartans once stood upon. It’s a choice that works well, giving The 300 Spartans a far more authentic feel than a lot of the other historical epics that came out in the 50s and 60s.
The 300 Spartans has everything that you might expect from a film like this: dancing, harems, swords, armor, a lot of talk of omens and honor, and of course several speeches about the importance of freedom. That said, even if some elements of the story are predictable, the film is well-acted with Richard Egan giving a strong performance as Leonidis while David Farrar turns Xerxes into a villain who you’ll enjoy rooting against. Anne Wakefield is also well-cast as Artemesia, Xerxes’s consort and his main advisor. Perhaps best of all is Ralph Richardson, playing the general Themistocles with the grim determination of a warrior who has learned better than to depend on omens and prophecy.
At the end of the film, the narrator grandly declares that the actions of the 300 Spartans were more than an example of Greek bravery. They were also, “a stirring example to free people throughout the world of what a few brave men can accomplish once they refuse to submit to tyranny!” Maybe a few years ago, I would have said that the narration went a bit overboard but, after the past few years, I’m now more convinced than ever that a lot of people would be fine living in an authoritarian state as long as their side was the one with all of the authority. At a time like this, any film that celebrates freedom is to be appreciated.
Klaus Kinski is the main reason to watch the 1965 film, Doctor Zhivago.
The legendarily difficult and erratic Mr. Kinski shows up about halfway through this 3-and-a-half hour film. He plays a cynical and unstable prisoner on a train. The train is full of passengers who are escaping from Moscow and heading for what they hope will be a better and more stable life in the Ural Mountains. (The film takes place during the Communist revolution and the subsequent purges.) That Kinski taunts everyone on the train is not a surprise. Both Werner Herzog and David Schmoeller (who directed Kinski in Crawlspace) have made documentaries in which they both talked about how difficult it was to work with Kinski and how several film crews apparently came close to murdering Klaus Kinski several times throughout his career.
Instead, what’s surprising about Kinski’s performance is that he’s even there to begin with. Doctor Zhivago is an extremely long and extremely stately film. It’s one of those films where almost every actor gives a somewhat restrained performance. It’s a film where almost every shot is tastefully composed and where the action often slows down to a crawl so that we can better appreciate the scenery. It’s a film that stops for an intermission and which opens with a lengthy musical overture. In short, this is a film of old school craftsmanship and it’s the last place you would expect to find Klaus Kinski luring about.
When he does show up, you’re happy to see him. Even though he’s only onscreen for about five minute, Kinski gives the film a jolt of much-needed energy. After hours of watching indecisive characters talk and talk and talk, Kinski pops up and basically, “Screw this, I hate everything.” And it’s exciting because it’s one of the few time that Doctor Zhivago feels unpredictable. It’s one of the few times that it feels like a living work of art instead of just a very pretty but slightly stuffy composition.
Just from reading all that, you may think that I don’t like Doctor Zhivago but that’s actually not the case. It’s a heavily flawed film and you have to be willing to make a joke or two if you’re going to try to watch the whole thing in just one sitting but it’s still an interesting throwback to a very specific time in film history. Doctor Zhivago was designed to not only be a spectacle but to also convince audiences that 1) TV was worthless and that 2) Hollywood craftsmanship was still preferable to the art films that were coming out of Europe. At a time when television and independent European cinema was viewed as being a real threat to the future of the film industry, Doctor Zhivago was a film that was meant to say, “You can’t get this on your black-and-white TV! You can only get this from Hollywood where, dammit, people still appreciate a good establishing shot and treat the production code with respect!” Even today, some of the spectacle is still impressive. The beautiful shots of the countryside are still often breath-taking. The scenes of two lovers living in an ice filled house are still incredibly lovely to look at. The musical score is still sweepingly romantic and impressive.
It’s the story where the film gets in trouble. Omar Sharif plays Yuri Zhivago, a doctor and a poet who falls in love with Lara (Julie Christie) while Russia descends into chaos. The Czar is overthown. The communists come to power and prove themselves to be just as hypocritical as the Romanovs. The revolutionary Pasha (Tom Courtenay, bearing a distracting resemblance to Roddy McDowall) is in love with Lara and helps to bring about the revolution but is then declared an enemy of the people during the subsequent purges. The craven Komarovsky (Rod Steiger) also wants to possess Lara and he’s so corrupt that he manages to thrive under both the Czar and the communists. Alec Guinness plays Yuri’s half-brother and is the most British Russian imaginable. Doctor Zhivago is based on a Russian novel so there’s a lot of characters running around and they’re all played by a distinguished cast of international thespians. However, none of them are as interesting as the scenery.
As for the two main actors, Omar Sharif and Julie Christie convince you that they’re in love but not much else. Sharif is never convincing as a poet and he feels miscast as a man who spends most of his time thinking. Reportedly, Lean’s first choice for the role was Peter O’Toole and it’s easy to imagine O’Toole in the part. But O’Toole had already done Lawrence of Arabia with Lean and didn’t feel like subjecting himself to another year of Lean’s notoriously prickly direction. So, the role went to O’Toole co-star, Sharif. Julie Christie turned down Thunderball to do both this film and Darling, for which she would subsequently win an Oscar.
(Speaking of the Oscars, Doctor Zhivago was nominated for Best Picture and, though it won five other Oscars, it lost the big prize to The Sound of Music, of all things. 1965 really wasn’t a great year for the Oscars. The only 1965 Best Picture nominee that still feels like it really deserved to be nominated is Darling. Of the other nominees, Ship of Fools is ponderous and A Thousand Clowns is almost unbearably annoying. And The Sound of Music …. well, I prefer the Carrie Underwood version.)
Doctor Zhivago is a big, long, epic film. It’s lovely to look at and it has a few nice scenes mixed in with a bunch of scenes that seem to go on forever. In the conflict between the state and the individual, it comes down firmly on the side of the individual and that’s a good thing. (The communist government attempts to suppress Yuri’s love poems because they celebrate the individual instead of society. And though the government might be able to destroy Yuri’s life, they can’t destroy his spirit. Again, it’s a message that would have worked better with a more thoughtful lead actor but still, it’s a good message.) It’s a flawed film but watch it for the spectacle. Watch it for Klaus Kinski.
(With the Oscars scheduled to be awarded on March 4th, I have decided to review at least one Oscar-nominated film a day. These films could be nominees or they could be winners. They could be from this year’s Oscars or they could be a previous year’s nominee! We’ll see how things play out. Today, I take a look at the 1949 best picture nominee, The Heiress!)
“I have been taught by the masters.”
— Catherine Sloper (Olivia De Havilland) in The Heiress (1949)
I’m not going to spoil too much of the ending of The Heiress, beyond saying that those are the words with which Catherine ends the film. Taken out of context, they may not seem like much. However, after you’ve spent two hours with Catherine, her father, and the man who claims that he’s in love with her, these are perhaps seven of the most chilling words ever uttered. When you hear them, you don’t know if you should cheer or be very, very afraid. Myself, I had both reactions but, then again, I often do.
The Heiress, which is based on a play that’s based on a novel by Henry James, takes place in 19th century New York City. Austin Sloper (Sir Ralph Richardson) is a widely admired and very successful physician. He’s also a very cold man, one who has never recovered from the death of his wife. He lives with his daughter, Catherine (Olivia de Havilland). Catherine is shy and is continually told that she’s plain and boring. She’s devoted to her father, though Austin is cruelly manipulative of her. Catherine, who has never been in a relationship, has pretty much accepted that she’s destined to be alone.
Or, at least, she has until she meets Morris Townsend (Montgomery Clift).
From the first minute that Catherine meets him, Morris seems to be perfect. He’s handsome. He’s intelligent. He’s witty. He’s charming. He’s Montgomery Clift, for God’s sake! For Catherine, it’s love at first sight and Morris says that it’s the same for him. Suddenly, Catherine’s life no longer revolves around her father. Now, she dreams of marrying Morris.
Austin isn’t happy about this. Despite showing his daughter nothing but disdain for most of her life, Austin suddenly become protective of her. He says that Morris only wants to marry her because she stands to come into a great deal of money. To prove his point, he announces that, if Catherine and Morris get married, he will disinherit Catherine and neither she nor her husband will ever get their hands on his money.
How will Morris respond to Austin’s threat? Well, you’ll have to watch the movie to find out and you really should! The Heiress is a great movie, featuring noirish direction from William Wyler and brilliant performances from by de Havilland, Richardson, and Clift. Dr. Sloper may be a monster but Richardson plays him with so much authority that it’s hard to dismiss his worries about Morris, no matter how much you may want to. Montgomery Clift, meanwhile, keeps you guessing about Morris’s intentions. And, finally, the great Olivia de Havilland deservedly won an Oscar for her performance as Catherine Sloper. Over the course of the film, Catherine goes from being a withdrawn wallflower to being a … well, I can’t tell you anymore. I don’t want to spoil the film any more than I already have. The ending will leave you shaken in the best possible way.
The Heiress was nominated for best picture but lost to All The King’s Men.
Through the Shattered Lens 