gilbertayres

Truly this is one of the top ten greatest films ever made. One very interesting element that makes it incredibly modern is how erotic it is. Yes it is a spy thriller/mystery, but what keeps the film so timeless is its massive sex appeal, something which was all but forbidden at this point in American films. Robert Donat successfully projects the image of a sensitive but nevertheless attractive man who shows believable and genuine affection to the three women he encounters in the film (which in all three instances involve misconceptions and eating).

The first sexual reference is the fact that the film opens at a music hall, where a Mr. Memory refuses to answer a question about the age of Mae West (need I say more?). Here he meets a mysterious woman who, without even getting each others names, asks for him to take her home with him. Although nothing actually happens between them, he is incredibly kind to her even though he doesn't believe her until she gets killed, he thinks it is just persecution mania at first. He both gives her a drink and feeds her (haddock specifically). Notice that when they enter the kitchen, he closes the door behind him and lights up a cigarette, then walks around to her and leans back against the stove. He then butters the bread that he gives her. He cuts the bread with the same knife that is ultimately used to kill her. When she dies she falls directly on top of him sideways.

The next morning he escapes his building by telling the milkman a story about having an affair with a married woman (whose brother and husband are supposedly outside), but only after he first attempted to tell the man the truth and failed to get a reaction out of him. This is an interesting instance in which a man helps him (this never happens again until the very end of the film) and he accomplishes it by making up a sex story.

He ends up in Scotland and pays a farmer to stay at his house overnight. He meets the mans wife, a much younger woman who Donat initially thinks is the mans daughter, and the husband ends up thinking that his wife is planning on committing adultery with the stranger (he leaves after saying grace and watches from the window as the two converse about the murder charge, thinking it is love talk). The husband eventually catches them in the middle of the night, thinking they are about to run off to make love but eventually realizes that Donat really is just running from the law. When he leaves he kisses her on the cheek, and it is implied that she has developed feelings for the stranger in the few hours they have known each other.

Finally, there is the more developed relationship with the Madeleine Carroll role. They first meet on a train to Scotland and he kisses her in order to try to avoid getting caught by the police. A writer for The New Yorker claims that in a way the Donat character is trying to convince her that what he is about to say is the truth by letting her taste it first. She doesn't buy it and tries to help the police in catching him. The next time they meet is at a political rally during which he engages in a brilliant and charismatic speech about left-wing politics. They end up handcuffed together, go to an inn, order a room under which they sign as husband and wife, eat sandwiches, and sleep in the same bed for a while (he also says damn to her three times). Notice that he knows what to do when she takes off her stockings, which have gotten wet earlier, he even hangs them up for her in front of the fireplace. There is something about the way the two act with each other, their chemistry, which implies at the very least that they got along well (an off-camera friendship could explain this).

Ultimately it is as much the dominant performance of Robert Donat as it is the direction of Alfred Hitchcock that make this film immortal. From 1935 to 2019, it has aged well, if at all. Truly one of the greatest films ever.

Much of this film is predictable snuff film material. There is A LOT of rather boring plot forwarding sex here, so unless you are okay with that I would probably skip it. Otherwise, it is oddly rather clean really, little vulgarity, little violence. The birthing scene borders on comic parody (which is not a plus). It does improve at the end if you like sappy happy-ish endings like I do, but otherwise it is easy to see how this brought an end to a studio. The characters are uninteresting and rather stock (although the biggest problem is that the entire film lacks originality), and there are far too many unresolved plot elements which I will not get into here so as to avoid spoilers. It really does not grasp its time period at all, making a poor display of 17th century Amsterdam that comes off as claustrophobic and small. The overall impression is one of randomness, although I could see how, if directed differently and tighter, it might have been a rather good film.

Sure, it isn't a great film, nor even a good film, but it isn't a horrible movie either. It has a strong female lead and an evil Lesbian villain, both probably being the reason why the film failed. The story itself: the quest to destroy a destructive "talisman" that can only be touched by women is good, it leads to the typical conclusion in a castle which gets destroyed but the heroes all escape safely. Oddly, it is neither a kids film nor an adult film. Sure it has references to lesbianism (including brief topless nudity) and decapitations, but the comic relief consists of a child prince and his minder. Because of the female protagonist, the Schwarzanegger character is more the romantic foil although he does so some heavy lifting and sword work. This is actually a bit innovative and cool. Oh, and the score is great.

This is a combination of good cinematography and a very slow and mostly incoherent and very bloody plot. What there is of a story is very good: it is a critical view of the way immigrants have been maltreated in American society. This may also be why the film failed to find an audience in the United States yet has been acclaimed in Europe, it really isn't pro-American and is actively critical of capitalistic exploitation. There is a lot of scenic footage, much of it depicting circa 1890 Wyoming culture and often visually stunning, but this distracts from the plot as filler rather than becoming fully a part of the overall narrative. The performances themselves are not bad, and ultimately the greatest problem with the film is slow pacing (especially the first third) and being incredibly average when so much potential is on display.

This episode was a little weird but also heartwarming at the same time. I knew from the moment Riker woke up and is filled in by Dr. Crusher that something wasn't "real" about the situation which rather spoiled things, although the suspense of "just what is real" will have you rethinking everything in the second half, and the resolution is actually rather touching. I'll give it away here: a little grey alien whose entire species had been wiped out by the Romulans wanted a flesh and blood companion, and chose Riker. Have to admit, I would have too!

This is one of the most subtlety frightening episodes of TNG. The lower score is because I find the drones and the jungle setting to be somewhat cartoony when they shouldn't be. This episode is ultimately about an entire planet that was slaughtered by its own creation, as a warning about the dangers of putting too much trust in weapons, this is good. I'm sort of neutral to this episode.

I had a professor in grad school who was like Okona, even sounded like him. It was nice for once that the Enterprise wasn't in the middle of a deadly situation. Frankly this alone is a bit of relief. This is just a refreshing lighthearted and a little heartwarming break from the usual "someone gets killed" episode. The b-plot isn't very good though, although it is restricted to just two segments and about ten minutes.

This is "the disability" episode, and it is rather good. I have attended lectures done by deaf-mute professors that are verbalized by interpreters. Such people are vital for understanding, for both the mute person and for people who do not understand ASL or other sign language, similarly to Riva's Chorus. The b-plot is about La Forge being able to possibly have eyes, literal eyes. Ultimately both decide to accept themselves for who they are and Riva uses his own victimization to advance peace.

Granting that this is (at least in theory) a family show, and a space opera, this is a rather good examination on the issue of rape. Others might find the tackling of this issue objectionable for their own reasons, but I personally found it very well done. Even the flashback sequences are designed to keep the episode within a PG rating, dream like and psychological, not Hitchcock. Also, having both male and female victims brings in awareness that anyone could be a victim of assault.

The basic idea of this episode is really very interesting, but the conclusion/solution is never fully fleshed out and the motivation of the "villain" such as it is, is never logically presented. In the beginning we get some really interesting ideas, like the signs and one of them meaning death, but the solution isn't so much simple as too easy. The biggest problem with this episode is that it really could have been more interesting, an alien civilization is dumping artefacts everywhere. Why? We never find out! Apparently Data is taken over by well over a thousand personalities, why? We never find out! How is Picard able to so easily trick whatever force is behind all of this? We never find out! Too many questions, no real answers.

At first this episode comes off as a romance novel with mysterious candles, ghosts, a gothic yet picturesque Scottish setting, and an exploration of sex from a female perspective. This last element is the most interesting, the rest is actually rather stupid and more 3/10 territory, especially a rather tacky resurrection sequence. The first thirty minutes or so will have you thinking "there is no plot here", and that is sort of true, apart from an 800 year old "ghost" trying to seduce Beverly Crusher, nothing actually happens apart from some whacky weather. The romance elements are rather predictable in all honesty and the idea of combining the genre with space opera is really a matter of personal taste, which might be why so many people find this thing plain awful. What salvages the episode is its treatment of female sexuality, utilizing Crusher and to a lesser extent her conversations with Troi. Although I found myself at times laughing at the episode rather than with it, this isn't a terrible episode. B-.

This is one of the worst. Troi becomes infested by, not the spirit of a dead woman, but something else entirely. I won't spoil it but what it is makes her extremely sexualized and she becomes horrid to everyone. As the episode goes on it becomes more stupid and yet oddly logically, the connections to Dorian Grey are apt. To a large extent, this episode isn't worth it.

This episode is, frankly, weird. Ashley Judd's guest appearance and the reappearance of Wesley partially make up for what is obviously a narrative solely about gaming addiction. Why Troi doesn't immediately realize that Riker is addicted to the game and alerts Dr. Crusher before anyone else can be affected simply doesn't make sense. The fact that the kids are left to find a solution is also, equally, dumb.

This episode is pretty terrible. The fact that eighteen people are dead to start with and then the entire crew is threatened by not one but two deadly situations, is rather maddening. Some of the scenes are funny, or at least are subject to sexual innuendo, but overall this really is just a rehash of a concept from the Original Series (the same disease!). Although it is interesting to see the crew cast aside their inhibitions, including some interesting revelations regarding Picard/Crusher, Riker/Troi, and Data/Yar, it's ultimately very strange. D.

As an introduction to the various characters this is not so bad, and although delaying the arrivals of Riker, Dr. Crusher, and La Forge for over a half an hour was a good idea, the Q filler is far more horrific here than he would ever be again. The court scene is not just frightful, it is also excessively long and dates the show to its late-1980s release more so than many later episodes of TNG. Thankfully later episodes would improve the series, as would Troi's abilities. Although certainly not the worst (the dividing of the ship and its coming together again save the show, and the scene between the old admiral and Data is great), one can tell that the show is trying to figure out where it is going. Overall grade a C/C+.

This isn't as bad as most people make it out to be, and it certainly doesn't deserve being "the worst" episode of TNG. The a-plot (the only one) is mildly interesting (although admittedly not really that original), and the rest of the episode is filled out with clips from earlier episodes interspersed with scenes set in sickbay as Dr. Polanski and Troi try to save Commander Riker. Towards the end some of the clips are a bit gory for those like me who are not into gore, but if you've watched all the earlier episodes there are no punches here, which is nice. The concept of positive, sex, and survival (primal) emotions making infection worse while negative emotions involving others (empathetic) ones destroy it is deep. Overall not a bad analysis of various emotions utilizing Riker (a good choice) in the first two seasons shot on a minimum budget and in only three days. The first ten minutes or so do demonstrate the minimal effort involved as some of the scenes obviously cut corners with footage, so as a season closer, not that great. Simply as an episode I'd give it a B- or C+.

Although this is hardly the best Disney film, this is almost certainly the most underrated. James Robertson Justice and Glynis Johns are both utterly hilarious and intensely dramatic as the plotting royal siblings. Richard Todd poses a dashing romantic figure as Charles Brandon, and Michael Gough is a sly villainous Duke of Buckingham who at first comes off a lot nicer than he turns out. Clifton Parker's score is subtle in its magnificent usage of leitmotif (the lavolta dance theme from the ball sequence in particular is modified in all sorts of ways to the point where it almost dies and is only half represented in places). There are blatant historical inaccuracies, in particular the character of Queen Catherine as well as Brandon's commoner status (which does add a class element missing in the historical reality), and the female costumes are about as Tudor-era as Henry VIII's being overweight in 1514 (when the events of the film roughly take place).

In context, this film was the third totally live-action production made by the Walt Disney Studios. It was also the third of four Disney live-action films made in Britain, and the second of three to star Richard Todd. Leonard Maltin gives it ***1/2 out of **** and considers it to be as historically significant as 1940's Pinocchio. Although obviously a costume drama, critics have noted that, for a film from 1953, it has a strong liberated bent to it. Glynis John's Mary Tudor is a woman to be reckoned with and in most instances her own agent. The aforementioned ball sequence can be interpreted as a reference to contemporary 1950s youth dances as well as a triumph of love for the two lovers. One can also tell that no expense was spared on this production, Disney had hoped it would at least be nominated for Best Picture, but although not a box office failure, it wasn't a success either. As a film, however, it is certainly Oscar worthy. Thankfully a gem that has grown more well known with time and I think Glynis agrees.

Leonard Maltin gave this ** out of ****. This movie feels at times like two short films, or two parts of a longer series. One is set in the 19th century consisting of two generations of the wealthy Scottish Marshall family whose men are medically inclined and whose women do all sorts of terrible things to their male lovers and visa versa, although thankfully all end up dead by some means (TB, childbirth, poisoning, suicide). The second is a romantic medical drama set before, during, and after the First World War, much of the last twenty minutes set in Italy. The two stories are connected by the character of Dr. William Marshall who ends up as the guardian to all the illegitimate offspring his female family members have only too much time on their hands to produce. Although Richard Todd's brief performance as the lascivious but brilliant and tragically ill Dr. Cameron is a highlight, the first half of the film can be seen as dark, brutal, dull, and very long (51 minutes). Joan Greenwood's performance is probably the biggest draw back here as she seems to be sleeping through most of her screen time and when she does seem alive she drones. I wonder if much of this could be cut. Glynis Johns has second billing but does not appear until an hour into the film. This second half (41 minutes) redeems the film but also seems rushed. Richard Todd is back playing the grandson of the character he played earlier and the characterization is just as good if not better. Oh, and the moustache doesn't hurt! Glynis is rather good as Katherine and a welcomed near comic relief as she goes about drinking, smoking, or war protesting. At first flighty, she matures rapidly and proves herself to be Todd's equal over the course of her half-hour of screen time. The message at the end of the first: Dr. Marshall: "You will make him do great things for the world" Katherine: "If the world is worth it." is both prophetically disturbing and heartwarming at the same time. So overall a good if rushed second act attached to a boring and long set up first act and as usual with their series of films together Todd and Johns are the best part of the film.

Almost everything is wrong with this film. It is two hours too long, the production was frankly insane and involved Robert Mitchum OD-ing Christopher Jones because he did not like Sarah Miles, and seriously, why did John Mills get an Oscar for giving one of the most painful mutes performances ever? The two stars are for the camera work, the film's only merit, although even it is over done at times. In 1970 the film was rightly panned by the critics but it was a huge financial success, the sole reason for this being obviously that it is set in Ireland so every American of Irish descent ran out like a lemming to see it.

The film consists of a series of underdeveloped or overdeveloped scenes, with a lot of Irish crowd violence and Anglophobia (unfunny while attempting to be humorous) and a beta-situation about arms smuggling involving the main character's father to complicate what is otherwise a simple tale of adultery that defies any description other than disturbing. Whether it is a drama or a comedy I do not think anyone truly knows.

I find it rather amazing how some people actually like O'Neil's performance as it is to me the only flaw in an otherwise poignant and beautiful film. I literally scream at the screen when O'Neil's Countess is on because her acting is so ignorant, her motivations so demented and puerile, and I really, really want Boyer's character to finally just kill her already! How was she nominated for an Oscar for inflicting this cinematic torment on the audience? Thankfully death is a mercy and we are spared in the last half hour of the film of her existence because Barbara O'Neil being cast in this film in the first place was just stupid even Anatole Litvak's otherwise magnificent direction couldn't save her (Boyer's mental snap in the murder scene is just SO juicy). Otherwise, I find the chemistry between Boyer and Davis to be amazingly beautiful and the scenes with the children and Bette are just so wonderful and adorable, as is the score, and the sets and literally every other element of this film experience other than O'Neil. The film also has the wonderful ability to be long (2h 22mins) while feeling only about 90 minutes. It is just a shame that the Countess had to exist (as in was a real person who actually lived and was thankfully killed) because otherwise this would be the most perfect black and white film ever made.

I do not usually say this, even of films with actors that I love, but I am very happy that I saw this film. I also do not usually review films on IMDb, this may be either my first or second review in well over a decade, but I feel that it is deserved. Although the first twenty minutes of this film are very, very slow, as soon as you see Dirk Bogarde, in person, the whole screen lights up. He probably looks better in this film than in any post-Victim performance. The cinematography for this film is amazing and dark and although not exactly a scary film, (there is no "monster" in the "Creature of the Black Lagoon" sense) it is nevertheless both terrifying and soul purging. The very best work is to be found in the film's final quarter hour or so with a remarkably realistic (for the 1960s) birthing scene in which you sort of get why Dirk's siblings claim he felt cheated in life for not being a heterosexual, you can see the paternal desire in his eyes in the way he handles the children and the birthing. The scenario is very intriguing, the idea that sensory isolation could cause the mind to be broken down and subjected to any indoctrination is fascinating. Although what the scientists and the Major do is utterly unethical, (Dirk's distant husband of the second half is heartbreaking), Oonagh knows she will eventually get her man back. After all, the brainwashing programmed him to be even more protective of his children, and she is like eight and a half months pregnant....