Harold_Robbins

Like many Hammer Films that were pooh-poohed at the time of their release as exploitational, THE TWO FACES OF DR. JEKYLL is much better than its reputation would have you think, and it's surprisingly frank in its depictions of adultery and sexuality. It's well-directed by Terence Fisher, and the sets, costumes, set decorations and cinematography are excellent, making very good use of color (particularly in the Can-Can sequence). Performances are also excellent, particularly Paul Massie in the title roles, though he may seem a bit over-the-top at times. He does an excellent job of differentiating between Jekyll and Hyde, even vocally (though he sounds oddly post-synched in both roles). No, this isn't the foggy, gas-lit London of previous versions of J&H - color more or less ruled that out - but its nevertheless effective in its own way and deserves re-examination.

There's nothing really wrong with this entry in Hammer's Mummy series - there just wasn't really anyplace further to go with these stories (the Universal ones in the 1940s got progressively worse and inane) - this one's almost a remake of Hammer's previous entry, CURSE OF THE MUMMY'S TOMB, without the bombastic performance of Fred Clark. But there are good performances here - Andre Morrell, John Phillips, David Buck, Catherine Lacey and the ever-reliable Michael Ripper (in a larger-than-usual role), and the production maintains the good Hammer standards. It's really nothing to be ashamed of, and quite enjoyable - this was my second viewing (the first was five years ago, though I first heard about the film when it was released in 1967) and the beauty of most Hammer productions is that they can be re-watched at intervals of several years with no loss of enjoyment - 'comfort films' indeed.

A big disappointment, but with the talent involved, this movie couldn't not be worth a look - Bergman, the Minnellis, Boyer's brief cameo, a John Gay screenplay (which evidently went awry and became something of a muddled mess) and Geoffrey Unsworth (though time hasn't been kind to his cinematography, which looks murky now). Something was definitely missing here, and I had trouble keeping track of who was who among several of the characters. Bergman was an interesting combination of Auntie Mame and The Madwoman of Chaillot. Liza's in great voice here: the two Kander and Ebb songs aren't bad at all, and "Do It Again" was superb (we know who she must have been thinking of), but where do the songs fit into this muddle? Was it intended as a semi-musical? And why does Liza Minnelli (as Nina) suddenly take Bergman's place as the Countess in the 'flashbacks' - are these supposed to be scenes from Nina's film, or merely in Nina's head? Also, the movie is supposedly set in 1949 but has no period feel or look at all - it looks like 1976. The soundtrack - music and dialog both - sounds like it was almost entirely post-synched, and is reminiscent of one of those bad Italian sword-and-sandal or horror movies of the 1960s or, what's worse, like one of those imported "art films" (the X-rated variety).

As I've begun making my way through THRILLER from the beginning, I've noticed that several episodes - TWISTED IMAGE, THE MARK OF THE HAND, ROSE'S LAST SUMMER and this one, THE WATCHER, were based on suspense novels published in the 1950s by well known authors such as Charlotte Armstrong and Margaret Millar, and lesser-knowns such as William O'Farrell. The problem with these 49-50 minute adaptations is that they obviously have to leave out a good deal of the novel, which doesn't leave much opportunity for character development or motivation. Here, in THE WATCHER, based on a novel by Dolores Hitchens, we're presented with the villain right up front, but never really understand his reasons, what brought him to the point of murder. We know he's off-kilter right away, and suspense is generated by how long it will take before he trips himself up, or before others catch on. There's nothing wrong with this, certainly, and there are authors who do it very well, and there have been films which also carried this off successfully (such as THE UNSUSPECTED from 1947, based on a Charlotte Armstrong novel). But it just doesn't work very successfully or satisfyingly in the 49/50 minute time-slot the THRILLER format allowed. I was intrigued enough by TWISTED IMAGE to seek out the original novel, and a copy is on its way to me. I've located copies of THE WATCHER and may very well indulge in one of those as well. And oh yes - there was something very peculiar about THE WATCHER - the voice of the actress who played Richard Chamberlain's aunt was DUBBED!!!

I'd somehow managed to go my entire life without seeing a Ma & Pa Kettle film (other than THE EGG AND I, which I don't think I got far enough into to meet the Kettles) - until tonight, that is, when I saw that MA & PA KETTLE was about to start on TCM. I figured it would probably be a fun way to wind down Saturday evening. Well, despite the presence of the usually delightful Marjorie Main, from the very first scene I found this film loud, irritating, and remarkably unfunny. Yes, I stuck it out to the end. Oh well. I kept feeling that what I was watching somehow should have been funny, but while the film may have convulsed audiences in 1949, by 2010 standards it was pretty tough going. Loved that flat-screen TV, though!

Based on Marcia Davenport's bestseller, the film obviously omits most of the novel, concentrated on star-crossed lovers Greer Garson and Gregory Peck – Garson is impossibly sweet for most of the film, and Peck too passive, but the last half-hour or so was terrific – Garson showed some 'steel' of her own, Peck found his backbone and told off wife Jessica Tandy. There are some good performances here among the supporting cast – the aforementioned Tandy, who goes from a sweet young woman to a tense, neurotic, demanding wife, and particularly Gladys Cooper and Donald Crisp as Peck's parents, who own the steel mill against which the tale plays out (Crisp's role is sort of a dressed-up version of Mr. Morgan in HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY, which won him a Best Supporting Actor Oscar). Cooper plays the complete opposite of her famous Mrs. Vale-style mother here: she is kind, loving and understanding, and I think the scenes between Cooper and Garson are by far the film's best-acted. There's an outrageously hammy performance by Lionel Barrymore (even for him) as Garson's crippled father that could serve as a textbook example of over-acting – he should definitely have been reigned-in. The exteriors all have that MGM 'soundstage' look to them,and the matte shots of the mill and surrounding city have a particularly artificial appearance.

When I finally caught up with it, this turned out to be a nice little mid-1960s thriller, made very much in the style of a Hammer Films production (indeed, as such it makes a suitable double-feature with the film it's paired with on DVD, DEVILS OF DARKNESS)- it makes good use of settings, has a decent script and quite adequate acting (especially a typically hammy late-career performance from Lon Chaney Jr), and evokes a very effective atmosphere of evil. What I was most surprised about (and impressed with) was the striking black-and-white photography and lighting, which really contributed to that atmosphere, particularly in its use of the reawakened witch. Definitely a fun, creepy movie for a rainy Saturday afternoon!

Not really a "horror" film, this one seems to have gotten lost in the shuffle over the years, though it obviously has its fans. Hammer did a fine job here of maximizing the budget for sets and costumes - it all looks fine, especially Hazel Court! Anton Diffring was never the most engaging of leading men, but some of that remoteness actually works in favor of the character here, though perhaps there's a bit too much at times. Hammer's big mistake here was transferring the setting of the story from London to Paris - we know that Bonner and Dr. Weiss (Arnold Marne, who walks off with the acting honors, by the way) are from Germany or Austria, so there's no problem about their accents - but everyone else jolly well speaks with veddy British accents! Perhaps that's why, three years later, Hammer transferred PHANTOM OF THE OPERA from Paris to London...

Despite the film's dreadful reputation, I have to say I didn't think it was as bad as all that - yes, Ray Milland's Southern accent was inconsistent (and probably the worst ever in a film), and yes, the acting was pretty lame all around, but the photography was good (I particularly liked the "misty" shots, and wondered if, as in THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKING MAN, the "mist" had anything to do with the goings-on) and the non-human cast definitely gave one the creeps! In its way it was like Hitchcock's THE BIRDS, because there's never any explanation for why what happens happens, and we get the feeling that it's not over yet.

I was pleasantly surprised that RETURN TO PEYTON PLACE wasn't as bad as I'd remembered it to be - it's a well-mounted film, again produced by Jerry Wald (who produced, among other classics, MILDRED PIERCE), but neither as glossy-slick nor as compelling as its predecessor. It suffers from the same fate most sequels do, no matter how well-done or well-intended: the magic that sparked the original is simply gone and cannot be recaptured.

RETURN, of course, is a thinly-veiled account of some of what happened to author Grace Metalious after PEYTON PLACE became the publishing phenomenon of the 1950s (no indeed, the townsfolk were not too fond of their "Pandora in Blue Jeans," as she was called, and, if memory serves, did indeed fire her schoolteacher husband). But it's kind of inconceivable that Metalious's novel would have been published at all if she'd been the snotty bitch portrayed by Carol Lynley - no publisher would have put up with such an attitude from an unknown, first-time novelist.

CLEOPATRA's budget was straining the coffers at Fox, so the cast is not as big as PEYTON PLACE, nor, with three exceptions, as notable. Three Hollywood veterans - Eleanor Parker, Mary Astor, and Jeff Chandler, show the young folks how it's done, and Astor, selfish and manipulative as were two other characters she played (Brigid O'Shaughnessy in THE MALTESE FALCON, and Sandra Kovack in THE GREAT LIE, for which she won an Oscar) simply walks off with the film. We don't like Roberta Carter, or the censorship she tries to impose, but we understand her resistance to change, to losing the values and things she holds dear (including her son). And, unfortunately, Astor/Carter's advisory to the people of Peyton Place that they will live to regret their willingness to encourage such changes in morals as Allison's book seems to exemplify, was a sad prediction of the painful price we would pay in the 1980s for the sexual freedom of the 1960s.

Something of a disappointment for me - it was lush and beautiful, yes, and the attention to detail (particularly the food) was perfect (reminding me, in fact, of Bergman's FANNY AND Alexander), but I felt there was too much artifice, too many elaborate, gorgeously-planned camera shots, but no heart - I really didn't care about these people (despite the presence of Alec McCowen, Geraldine Chaplin, Sian Phillips, Michael Gough) and, in her final screen appearance, Alexis Smith), because I had the strange feeling that none of these characters existed outside of the scenes they appeared in, much like the scenes from the opera and play that punctuate the film.

I liked it, and won't rule out a re-visit in the future, but I couldn't love it. I admire Scorcese as a film historian - I'll listen to him talk for hours - but I don't like the kind of films he usually makes and thus I avoid them. INNOCENCE is an atypical Scorcese film and that's one reason I wanted to see it (the other being that I like literary period dramas such as this) - the only other films he's directed that I got through were ALICE DOESN'T LIVE HERE ANYMORE and RAGING BULL (I enjoyed the latter much more than I expected to, finally seeing it only a few months ago) - I walked out of NEW YORK, NEW YORK and AFTER HOURS. I even turned off THE AVIATOR after about half an hour. He was just trying to hard to impress me, I guess. And I've avoided films such as TAXI DRIVER, MEAN STREETS and GOODFELLAS - because from what I've seen of them I know they're not my cup of tea.

It's easier for me to watch an Ingmar Bergman film than a Scorcese film.

I was pleasantly surprised by NEVADA SMITH - it was an extremely well-made film, miles ahead of its predecessor, THE CARPETBAGGERS (the film version, not the book!), in which his character and his story originally appeared.

John Michael Hayes' "Screen Story and Screenplay" follows "The Story of Nevada Smith" section of Harold Robbins' novel THE CARPETBAGGERS fairly closely, though there were some inventions for the film, such as the young Max Sand's meeting early on with Jonas Cord (Sr.) and Max's respite at a mission, where a kindly Padre (Raf Vallone) tries to induce him to "turn the other cheek."

Perhaps due to racism, which still prevailed in mid-1960s characters, a sympathetic character who was African-American in the novel, the whip-wielding prison camp trustee, is split into a redneck trustee (Pat Hingle) and a Cajun girl (Susan Pleshette).

Steve McQueen is quite good as the driven Max Sand, whose sole purpose in life is to avenge the deaths of his parents (another plot-point omitted from the novel is that one of the murderers' (Karl Malden's} tobacco pouch is made from the skin of Max's Indian mother, not her dress). Also, Max's revenge on the three murderers is even more calculated in the novel, and often more grisly - he isn't half-Indian for nothing.

There's a good cast here, too - McQueen, Susan Pleshette, Brian Keith, Pat Hingle, Howard da Silva, and as the three murderers, Karl Malden, Arthur Kennedy (playing the kind of sleaze-ball he perfected in PEYTON PLACE) and Martin Landau (even nastier than his memorable character in NORTH BY NORTHWEST).

One might be predisposed to think "Oh, it's from a Harold Robbins story, so it's worth missing," but one would be wrong. Robbins was a solid storyteller (up to THE CARPETBAGGERS, anyway) and though his novels didn't translate well to the big-screen, NEVADA SMITH is the exception - it's well-directed (Henry Hathaway, who was an expert at Westerns), features excellent cinematography (Lucien Ballard) and features the usual professional score by Alfred Newman.

This is a superior and under-rated "woman's picture" that really has all the elements of the classic weeper: star-crossed lovers, twists of fate, and self-sacrifice. It also has a sterling performance from Bette Davis which gives a strong indication of why she would soon be a superstar and regarded as the screen's best actress: Her belief in a character could suffuse it with passion and poignancy and transcend the shallowness of the accompanying story. She's supported by an excellent cast - Henry Fonda (in a basically thankless role), the ever-reliable Donald Crisp (her showdown scene with him oddly foreshadows similar scenes with Gladys Cooper in NOW, VOYAGER), Mary Phillips (in a role that in a later version would obviously have gone to Thelma Ritter), who was, at the time, Mrs. Humphrey Bogart (in the same year's MARKED WOMAN Davis would appear with Mayo Methot, the next Mrs. B., and Ian Hunter. Edmund Goulding, who excelled at this kind of thing, wrote and directed it - he would later direct Davis in two other notable soapers, DARK VICTORY (one of her most celebrated performances, as Judith Traherne), and THE GREAT LIE (for which Mary Astor won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar). It's all served up in the best Warner Bros. tradition, but doesn't seem to be as well-remembered as other such films of the era, such as MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION, STELLA DALLAS, or MY FOOLISH HEART.

Phenomenal is the only word for LIZA WITH A Z - did you notice that there were no spectacular sets or special effects, just an incredibly versatile artist accompanied by a dancing ensemble and an orchestra. Who of today's "artists" could do that? With all the negative news about LIza in the past decade or so, some people tend to forget that in the two decades after CABARET Liza was indeed a superstar of the first magnitude - if her movie career never really took off (remember duds like LUCKY LADY and A MATTER OF TIME?), she was still the Queen of the Concert Stage in the US and Europe.

Liza was absolutely in her prime here - incredibly, she was only 26 in this year of CABARET and LIZA WITH A Z, and her voice was in great shape: rich, resonant and powerful - all the notes were there, big-time! (Check out some 1960s Minnelli recordings like "Come Saturday Morning" - her voice was much higher and sweeter then than we're used to.) And yes, there were certain brief moments when she looked (rather than sounded) like her mother, but she's all LIZA. I saw her on Broadway in CHICAGO in 1975, and caught her first "Post-Betty Ford Center" tour in 1985, and she was still brilliant (That's when she starting singing "When I gooooooooooooo - I'm NOT - going - like - El - sie!") and at an outdoor theater in 1992. What a performer!

Barbra Streisand had MY NAME IS BARBRA - LIZA WITH A Z is Liza Minnelli's MY NAME IS BARBRA! Truly legendary performances by truly legendary performers.

While it's perfectly true that a film whose cast includes such wonderful actors as Albert Finney, Susannah York, Hugh Griffith, the divine Joan Greenwood, Edith Evans and, in minuscule roles Angela Baddeley, Rachel Kempson (as well as Kempson's daughter, Lynn Redgrave, in her film debut) can't be all bad, I can't say I enjoyed TOM JONES much better on a second viewing about 17 years after the first. I found it pretentious and too clever for its own good with its irises in-and-out, its wipes and dissolves, Prologue in the fashion of a Silent film, and the use of fast-motion photography - even the famous "dinner scene" between Finney and Joyce Redmond seemed painfully obvious and self-conscious.

This is another "What were they thinking?" Oscar choice for Best Picture - perhaps, still stunned in the months following JFK's assassination, the Academy wanted to honor something light and amusing.

As has been mentioned elsewhere, the transfer on the M-G-M "Vintage Classics" DVD isn't worthy of a Best Picture winner - it's murky in some places, grainy in others, and on the whole could use some touching up.

Before the first episode was over I'd forgotten I was watching an actress - I felt as if I was experiencing an audience with a Queen! Glenda Jackson so inhabits the body and soul of Elizabeth I that all other interpretations of the role are diminished and it's impossible to think of anyone else in the role, even Bette Davis in her two films, PRIVATE LIVES OF ELIZABETH & ESSEX and THE VIRGIN QUEEN.

While it's perfectly true that production values have come along way since this early Masterpiece Theater effort, the writing and acting are of such high quality that you won't mind; this one certainly helped set the standards for subsequent series and performances.

Streisand fans only familiar with her work from the FUNNY GIRL film onwards need to see this show to see what a brilliant performer Streisand WAS - BEFORE she achieved her goal of becoming a Movie Star. There had never been a female singer quite like her ever before, and there never would be again (sorry, Celine - only in your dreams!), but never again would Streisand sing with the vibrancy, energy, and, above all, the ENTHUSIASM and VULNERABILITY with which she performs here - by the time she gets to that Central Park concert only 2 or 3 years later, she'd been filming FUNNY GIRL in Hollywood and her performing style has become less spontaneous and more reserved, more rehearsed (and, let's face it: more angry) - there's a wall between her and the audience. Live performing was never what she really enjoyed - she did it because she knew it was her ticket to Hollywood, and once she no longer had to do it she's done it as little as possible (and oh, that legendary stage fright provides such a good excuse!).

Her vocals here and on her earlier Judy Garland Show appearance are incredible: Streisand could truly make an old song sound new again, and composers such as Richard Rodgers and Harold Arlen loved her for it. But by the 1970s Streisand was trying to be a "rock" singer, her albums pandering to the younger audiences, with over-wrought shrieking of songs that were unworthy of her effort or her voice.

In the '80s she came back with that brilliant "Broadway Album," but went on and on about what a struggle it was to get it done, how "they" told her not to do it, etc. Oh please - when has anyone told Streisand what to do? She could have been doing good stuff like that all along, bringing audiences UP to her level instead of stooping to what she thought the young public wanted. (The "Back to Broadway" sequel wasn't nearly as good, as Streisand seems to feel it necessary to improve on other composers' work: if he were alive at the time, would Richard Rodgers have even recognized his own "Some Enchanted Evening"? Rodgers, notorious for taking singers to task for playing around with his melodies, would undoubtedly have been after Streisand to sing what he'd written! She also blows Michael Crawford off the CD in their duet of "Music of the Night" - apparently reminding him just whose CD this is. Why does she insist on taking songs that are duets and singing them by herself, and songs that aren't duets and singing them as duets with someone else who she then goes on to diminish?)

Supposedly Judy Garland took Streisand aside and advised her, "Don't let them do to you what they did to me," advice Streisand wasted no time in heeding - despite her protestations to the contrary, surely it looks like it's always been her way or the highway. Just imagine - SHE told the CBS brass how her first TV special would be done - no guests, just HER.

But nobody can argue with the results that are so evident here. Treat yourself to this brilliant musical phenomenon BEFORE she was a legend - you'll be absolutely amazed at the difference!

PS - I watched this again last night (12/01) after not having seen it for many years - it was even BETTER than I remembered! The 1st Act begins with "I'm Late" and includes "Make Believe" and "How Does the Wine Taste," and Barbra's homage to childhood, "I'm Five" - it climaxes as Streisand appears with full (and I mean FULL) orchestra to sing "People" - she wasn't bored with the song yet and although it's a somewhat shorter rendition it really soars - compare it to some of her later "auto-pilot" versions. The 2nd act (after Streisand's "kooky" schtick-patter, which hasn't changed much over the years) is the famous series of Depression songs set amidst the extravagance of Bergdorf-Goodman's.

The 3rd Act is the stunner - call it "Streisand, the Orchestra, and the Audience" (although we never see the audience that supposedly witness this historic event). With her fear of audiences and dislike of such performing, this may have been the toughest part for her, but if so, to her credit it doesn't show. She tears through "Lover Come Back to Me" and the torchy "When the Sun Comes Out" (though I can't remember in which order!), the poignant "Why Did I Choose You? (one of my all-time favorite Streisand performances) and offers a medley of FUNNY GIRL songs, including (of course) "Don't Rain on My Parade" and my favorite song from the score, "The Music That Makes Me Dance". Explaining that "Fanny Brice sang a song like that in 1922, and it made her the toast of Broadway", Streisand then sings "My Man", and it's almost a dress-rehearsal template for her later screen rendition in the FUNNY GIRL film (the main difference being that the black gown here is sleeveless - her film gown had long sleeves and against the black background all we saw were her hands and face), but the vocal here is more urgent and charged than her later film vocal. (Her performance of the song has everything to do with Streisand and nothing to do with Fanny Brice who, of course, never sang the song in such an all-out manner as Streisand does here or in the film - see THE GREAT ZIEGFIELD for a glimpse of Brice's more understated version.) The show ends with Streisand singing "Happy Days Are Here Again" over the credits.

When it was over I said to the friend I was watching it with, "She has NEVER, EVER, done anything better!"

And she was TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD!

Although THE MUSIC MAN received an Oscar nomination as Best Picture, the Academy's failure to nominate Robert Preston as Best Actor remains one of their most embarrassing oversights. With all due respect, compare the electrifying exuberance of Preston's Harold Hill to the stuffiness of Rex Harrison's Professor Henry Higgins in MY FAIR LADY (a film so studio-bound it seems to have been filmed in a vacuum - there isn't a breath of air in it). Preston practically leaps off the screen and his performance is as fresh and energetic as though it had been captured on opening night on Broadway. A legendary performance on stage, Preston's is one of the greatest musical comedy performances ever captured on film in one of the best film musicals ever made.

This film has some of the most bizarre casting in Hollywood history - who could possibly conceive of Gene Kelly playing a Jew? Yes, an 'assimilated Jew," but a Jew nonetheless. Maybe the same Warner exec who a few years later envisioned WASP-ish Rosalind Russell as Mrs. Jacobi in A MAJORITY OF ONE? With the exception of Everett Sloane (who may have been Jewish - I've never been able to confirm this) and Ed Wynn (who was), this is the most goyishe-looking family imaginable. Claire Trevor was from Brooklyn - I guess they thought this qualified her to "pass". Everyone looks like they just got back from church, not a synagogue.

Hollywood and the movie industry were built by Jews - except for Darryl F. Zanuck, all the major movie moguls - Mayer, Selznick, Cohn, Goldwyn, Warner, Laemmle - were Jewish - yet they were frightened of portraying Jews honestly on screen, and many an actor had to subdue his "Jewishness" and change his name to 'blend in' - could John Garfield have become a movie star under his real name, Julius Garfinkle?

MARJORIE MORNINGSTAR hasn't held up well as a film or on the printed page - maybe in the 1950s she was the gal every young woman wanted to be or know, but when I finally got through the book a few years ago, I found her to be not only irritating but a tease of the first order - few men or women would have much patience with her superficial personality today. I wondered at the book's popularity - somehow it managed to nudge past AUNTIE MAME and become the #1 bestselling novel of 1955.

This is, quite simply, my favorite film. Note that I said my 'favorite' film, not 'the best film I've ever seen' or anything like that. I've seen it countless times over the past 35+ years, and with increasing frequency, of course, since since the advent of VCRs, Turner Classic Movies, and DVDs. On two occasions I even got to see it in a theater on the big screen (the way movies were originally meant to be seen - remember?)

I just want to say that this film features not only one of Bette Davis's 'cornerstone' performances, but also her most magically beautiful moments on film - anyone who doesn't think Davis was beautiful hasn't seen her here, particularly in the scene in which her tyrannical mother threatens to cut off financial support. It's late at night, the lights are low, and something happens to Davis and to Charlotte Vale: actress and character achieve complete, glorious unification (Davis's performances were always sparked when she played opposite another strong actress: Gladys Cooper in this case). Without a moment's hesitation or indecision she deflects her mother's threat with "I don't think so, Mother. I'm not afraid." Here Max Steiner's music chimes in gently as Davis/Charlotte realizes what she's has said. She repeats it almost wonderingly, "I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid, Mother!" and realizes that it's true: she is no longer afraid of her mother, or of anything life may hold for her. At this moment, with this realization, everything comes together and Charlotte Vale is reborn.

Davis's genius and belief in her character, Sol Polito's excellent lighting and photography, and Steiner's music - all work in perfect harmony to give Davis what is truly her most radiantly beautiful moment on the screen.

I've noticed that people seem surprised that MGM attempted to suppress the 1940 British version of GASLIGHT to avoid any competition with their version. I don't know why anyone should be surprised - Hollywood's business is a cut-throat one: remember that L.B. Mayer, along with Jack Warner and others, offered to buy CITIZEN KANE from RKO and then destroy it, all to appease William R. Hearst - fortunately they didn't (just imagine the history of film since 1941 if they had!) And although MGM didn't destroy all prints of GASLIGHT, they did manage to keep it out of sight for many years - I think I first saw it on a cable station in the early 1980s - I tuned in expecting Boyer and Bergman and got Walbrook and Wynyard - as it turned out I didn't mind at all, and have enjoyed it many times since! MGM did the same thing with Paramount's 1932 DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE which, except for an occasional screening, went unseen (but much written about) until it came out on video around 1990 (under the MGM label - imagine that!)

I have a particular affection for this film, having seen it during its 1966 theatrical run (double-billed with Dracula, PRINCE OF DARKNESS, when I'm sure I must have sat through it at least twice), and most recently this afternoon (not to mention a few times in-between). It's one of those 'comfort' movies I can re-visit every year or two for a pleasantly chilling and nostalgic 90 minutes or so.

It remains one of Hammer's most enjoyable efforts, and really represents Hammer at its best - production values, script, direction, photography, and acting - all are really first-rate here, considering how tightly their films were budgeted (although there are a few too many of another Hammer trademark: their obvious day-for-night scenes).

I always enjoy Andre Morrell here, though his gray hair color was a lit-tle too phony - all of the performances are excellent, from the leads to the smaller roles. I usually notice something new every time I re-visit a film: this time around, for the first time, I noticed John Carson's rather plummy voice, and decided he was a 'bargain-basement James Mason' - then I read the comments here and learned I'm not the first to make that comparison! If you haven't been spoiled by the out-and-out gore that's filled films in the decades since "Plague" I can highly recommend this film.

This is a top-of-the-line Sci-Fi thriller from the studio that did 'em best in the 1950s - Universal-International. Produced by William Alland (who also produced "Creature From the Black Lagoon" and "It Came From Outer Space", and directed by Jack Arnold (who directed those films) it has an intelligent script and good acting all the way around. Arnold does a great job of building suspense as he cleverly keeps the titular monster mostly off-screen for the first 2/3 of the film until it's simply too big to hide. And then --- watch out, folks! As in many another sci-fi story, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and if there's a villain of the piece, it's the Nuclear Age - the spider of the title is merely doing it's natural thing: searching for food. Except that, thanks to Leo G. Carroll's well-meaning experiments (to increase the world's supply of food), this is one BIG spider with an equally BIG appetite! Universal's special effects department just about out-did themselves here - the matte work is almost flawless (check out Leo G. Carroll's house after the spider's visit), and the make-up department did excellent work as well. This is one of the best of it's kind, and great fun on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

I'm not surprised that many viewers find this film frustrating, particularly those unfamiliar with the novels or the later TV adaptations - coming to this film with such knowledge definitely helps one be more charitable towards it.

THAT FORSYTE WOMAN is one of MGM's "prestige" literary productions, tackling the first novel of one of Britain's most beloved series of novels by one of its most beloved authors, John Galsworthy. It's another well-executed, professional MGM effort. Yet it's another strange choice for MGM (as was THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY earlier in the decade), since in this case the story's main plot is an adulterous affair,casting its two leading players (Flynn and Garson) very much 'against type' - one can't blame Flynn for being willing, but I'd like to know just exactly which MGM executive thought to cast Greer Garson as the adulteress! The lady was simply too likable!

These are complex characters, and it actually took Galsworthy 6 novels to reveal them fully to the reader. Neither Soames nor Irene (the Garson role) are particularly likable in the first novel - both seem selfish and willful, but the reader ultimately comes to understand both of them better (although Galsworthy never really does give a satisfactory reason for Irene's loathing of Soames).

MGM originally produced the film under the title THE FORSYTE SAGA (I have a copy of the movie tie-in edition of the novel published by Scribners in 1949)) but, since the film was merely a slice of the Saga anyway, they changed the title to the more catchy THAT FORSYTE WOMAN emphasizing Irene's 'fast' nature. It remained THE FORSYTE SAGA in the UK.

One has to admire MGM's ambitious attempt, but let's face it, they'd really bitten off more than they could chew: THE FORSYTE SAGA was too big, too rich, and too multi-layered for one film. Rather, it was a work destined for success in another medium which was still in its infancy - television, in a format to which its breadth, length and varied cast of characters would be perfectly suited - the "mini-series", for which it would provide the pioneer effort with spectacular success in the late 1960s.

This is the film of which Davis is supposed to have said "There are some pictures that should nevah be remade!" - and time has proved that she was right. Despite two updates/remakes, one theatrical ("Stolen Hours" with Susan Hayward) and one for TV (as "Dark Victory" with Elizabeth Montgomery) it's this 1939 Warner Bros. film which is still best remembered today. The reason, of course, is Bette Davis. She often insisted that there wasn't one of her greatest roles she didn't have to fight to get, and Judith Traherne was one of those roles. She pestered Jack Warner to buy it for her, and when he responded "Who wants to see a picture about a dame who goes blind and dies?" Davis assured him that at least ten million women would - and she was right.

And so we have a vibrant, touching performance that is among the most famous jewels in the crown of Bette Davis. "I'm young and strong and nothing can touch me!" she proclaims, and almost makes us believe it. We see her go through the denial/anger/bargaining/acceptance phases of her illness long before anyone named those stages. And when she looks George Brent in the eye and says "Poor fool - don't you know I'm in love with you?" we know from the way she says it that she's never said it before. Yes, it's quite possible that had GWTW not been released in the last weeks of December 1939, the question of who would be the first actress to win 3 Best Actress Oscars might well have been settled long before 1968.

Yes - we have to suspend disbelief here - Bogart with an Irish brogue? Surely his name - O'Leary - should have been enough. And the scene near the end when Davis packs Brent's suitcase to send him off - how could he not notice her fumbling around the room? Ah well, "it's only a mooovie, Ingrid. . . ." as a famous director once said.

"Dark Victory" may not be great cinematic art, but it's a thoroughly professional effort and it's obvious that the people who made it cared about it. Movie fans have been caring about it for 66 years, and continue to do so: a newly-remastered DVD will be released in June.