Reviews

Much of the time, if you profess to not like Breathless, a few New Wave devotees kind of sniff and intimate that, obviously, you didn't understand it.

The hell I didn't. I was a teenager when the New Wave (Godard, Truffaut, Chabrol, Resnais, et. al) erupted. I saw ALL the key films when they came out. I tried very hard to be impressed, to string along with the huge number of critics who oohed with delight about cinema verité, hand-held cameras and improvised dialogue. But I couldn't do it then, and I still can't.

I've watched Breathless twice completely and half a dozen times incompletely, over the past 50+ years.

Yes, I understand it's a milestone. Yes, the film was a radical departure from standard studio-produced fare. Yes, it broke many so-called 'rules' of feature film-making.

But sorry. All that doesn't make for a movie that's good. It bores. It rambles. It irritates by its ineptness. The images are very uneven in quality. The sound is pretty bad. In truth, one is expected, even urged, to admire it for its defects.

Jean-Luc Godard (who is Swiss, though considered one of the pillars of the French New Wave) still makes movies today in 2018, at 87 years of age. Still does the festival circuit. And his movies are much improved technically. Almost all have a few pretty good scenes. But by and large, they're not meant to entertain. They're supposed to make you think. To react and reflect on the images and ideas he's throwing out at you.

Now, back to Breathless (which a poor translation of the original French title 'A bout de souffle' that really means 'out of steam, out of energy, near the end of the line'.)

If you've never seen it, by all means do so, simply for its reputation. And if like me, you were lucky enough to visit Paris in the 1950s and early 1960s, you'll be rewarded by once again seeing the city as it really was. Complete with a girl (the late, beloved Jean Seberg) on foot, hawking the late, beloved International Herald Tribune to American tourists. Just for those delights, my rating is 4/10 - about two points higher than it might otherwise receive from soft-hearted me.

PS: If you find New Wave really hard to get through, stick with Truffaut. He rarely bores the way Godard and Resnais do. And how he evolved, year by year, into a master film craftsman is a story in itself.

No need for me to give an in-depth review of this terrible, boring, clumsily-made turkey. Just check out the multitude of one star reviews it's gotten and you'll see what I mean.

Watched it last night with the family, confident that the many glowing 10 and 9 star reviews meant that Silent Running would be at least a fairly good, reasonably interesting sci-fi outing.

But everyone in my sci-fi loving family started groaning about two minutes into the film. Nevertheless, we watched it, from boring beginning to boring end, mainly hoping it was going to get good at some point.

But it never did.

So the real and extremely valuable lesson here is simply this: be skeptical. Don't rely just on the glowing user reviews to decide what you'll watch tonight. Take the trouble to sort the reviews by negative rating first (i.e. after sorting by review rating, just reverse the order by clicking on the little arrow).

Really wish I had done that last night.

Let me start by saying I'm a HUGE Barbara Stanwyck devotee. But the role she is given in this hapless movie is so phony that nobody could have played it successfully. The story is of course, the stuff that vintage weepies are made from. And I have nothing against weepies: as long as the characters move me, I'll happily string along, no matter how ridiculous the story.

But the characters in Always Goodbye are uniformly made of paper-maché. The actors seem to know it: Ian Hunter and Herbert Marshall give mechanical performances, and Cesar Romero bounces through his role as if he's anxious to quickly get off the set.

Special note: if you detest obnoxious Hollywood child actors, little Johnny Russell's performance as Stanwyck's little boy is about as excruciating as they come. Don't say I didn't warn you.

One thing that bothers me about typical reviews of Hollywood westerns is that every modest picture with horses, six-guns and saloons gets thrown into the same 'just another western' sack. If it's not The Big Country, or High Noon, or Rio Bravo, or a John Ford classic, then it's usually 'just another routine oater'.

Of course, way too many westerns are cliché ridden and flat. But there are scores of really good ones. Westerns that not only hold your interest, but also make you marvel at what a difference a good director, a good cast and a good script can make.

The Rawhide Years is one such picture. Expertly directed by Rudolph Maté and flawlessly filmed by Irving Glassberg, this movie has an exciting story, a terrific cast and carefully distilled themes of betrayal, friendship, courage and redemption.

It's on a par with the best westerns of Anthony Mann or Budd Boetticher. I've seen it many times, and it never disappoints. Very highly recommended, even for viewers who don't usually cater to oats.

As a mild fan of Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, I've watched perhaps a third of all the episodes.They're usually fun, though rarely very inspired. But this episode is by far the worst I've seen. What astonishes me is how the heartless story - centering on a lone whale and a nuclear bomb - ever got past the show's editors. I realize that this was the 1960s, when animal lovers and ecologists were not much to the fore. But even so, the callousness of the attitudes displayed by every single character in this episode is alarming, even nauseating. Today, no one would even dare write a script of this kind, let alone bring it to the screen.

PS: Even if you're not a whale lover, this episode is pretty poor in any case. Slow-moving, not much suspense, tons of stock footage, a surprisingly inept Admiral Nelson, and a Seaview crew that bumbles along from start to finish. Give it a miss.

Agatha Christie was a top-drawer playwright as well as a novelist, and this film is based on her successful comedy thriller 'Spider's Web' (there was no 'The' in the original title). It had a successful run in London in 1954-56 and starred the wonderful Margaret Lockwood, who also starred in a 1955 TV movie versiion (which I've never seen, alas).

In this very plush technicolor adaptation, Glynis Johns steps into Lockwood's shoes, and does a creditable job. It's a high-energy role, and she overplays her part just a bit. This was probably at the urging of director Godfrey Grayson, a competent director of crime movies who perhaps found himself in unfamiliar comedy territory. In fact, Godfrey's uninspired direction is probably why the film starts to plod about halfway through, and never really recovers.

For the complicated plot, Christie may have borrowed an idea or two from Jack Trevor Story's novel The Trouble With Harry, which of course was the foundation for Hitchcock's classic 1955 movie. The Spider's Web is no classic, however, and probably won't stick in your memory. But it makes for OK viewing, with some laughs and a few thrills. The acting all around is commendable, and, best of all, the sets are gorgeous and definitely worth a peek.

Since the consensus on IMDB seems to be that this James Garner vehicle is really outstanding, I'm only adding this short critique to warn hard-boiled and picky viewers that they might be a little disappointed if they're expecting something extraordinary.

Sure, James Garner is as charismatic as ever - though in this picture he perhaps overplays his trademark easygoing persona. The supporting actors are all fine as well, and the film moves along quickly and pleasantly. It's a good movie, sure enough.

But the script is more 'amusing' than funny, and is by no means as original as it is sometimes made out to be. Might seem that way to folks who aren't western addicts, but if you've seen Destry Rides Again or The Boy From Oklahoma or Cat Ballou or even the Audie Murphy version of Destry, you'll have seen much better satires of the western genre.

And if it's pure laughs in a western you're looking for, The Paleface, Son of Paleface and Alias Jesse James are probably at the top of the heap.

Still, if you're in the mood for something light, colorful and enjoyable, Support Your Local Sheriff will do nicely. And for Garner fans, it will be a delight.

Saw this on late-night French tv, with the notion that if it was programmed, it must be an overlooked gem from the post-war period. But a gem it definitely isn't.

Basically it plays like a 1930s Hollywood b-movie in the madcap mystery vein. But a key positive part of those movies was that they were fast-paced and short. La Dame d'Onze Heures, though, is way too long, and suffers from many dull moments.

A veteran cast performs adequately, but without the gusto that this type of film requires. Most of the players, including top-billed Paul Meurisse, are obviously walking through their roles.

Also on the negative side is the tinny sound, which plagues many French pictures filmed before 1955 or so. And if you're an animal-lover, be warned that halfway through the story, the treatment of a kitten in this film is abominable.

Must admit though, that getting nicely-photographed glimpses of post-war France was definitely a pleasure. But in truth, that's about all this picture has going for it.

Great script, brilliant casting, fine direction and excellent black and white camera-work make The Woman Who Wouldn't Die (aka Catacombs) one of the most compelling low-budget thrillers of the 1960s. It received only a limited release back in 1965, when I first saw it (three or four times). And though I've kept my eyes peeled ever since, I've never encountered it on TV.

So I was very happy to finally find it on DVD (excellent HD print) -- and it is as gripping as ever.

Jane Merrow has the ingenue role and she was never as alluring. Georgina Cookson is truly terrific as her domineering rich aunt. The two main men in this story, Gary Merrill and Neil McCallum, are just perfect .

Will not give away ANY of the plot here and adamantly advise you not to read any synopses. But believe me, if you enjoy old-time low-budget thrillers in the William Castle or Roy William Neill vein, you shouldn't miss this one. A treat from start to finish.

I was looking for a TV movie to watch as a change of pace from my usual vintage Hollywood feature fare. Soon, I was lured by the high IMDB ratings bestowed on Murder, She Baked: A Deadly Recipe. Most of the time, I find the ratings reliable, give or take a couple of points. But not this time. Not by a very long chalk

I always try to be charitable in grading, but this picture marks my first one star rating. Here's why:

• boring and extremely lame plot line, littered with equally boring subplots, capped by a clichéd and predictable resolution to the 'mystery'.

• very unconvincing and uncharismatic performances by ALL the main players

• flat, witless scripting, unattractive sets, humdrum camera work, and a distinct feeling that nobody at all was directing this hodge-podge or really cared about it. Just more fodder for the small screen.

I'd never seen or heard anything about the Murder, She Baked series, but to my mind, anything modeled on the venerable Angela Lansbury series couldn't be too bad.

Boy, was I wrong. Take me back to Mrs. Fletcher and Cabot Cove, any day of the week.

Mario Bava has many staunch fans and rightfully so. His outstanding talent as a cinematographer marked all of his stints as a director, and Black Sabbath shows him at his most impressive best.

But for me...and I'm a compulsive fan of vintage horror movies...Bava's great visuals are almost always undone by his shortcomings as a storyteller. In almost all his films, the narrative thread is weak. The suspense just isn't there. The black humor doesn't resonate the way it does in the best pictures from Universal, AIP or Hammer. And the lead characters rarely have the charisma necessary to keep the audience fascinated.

I've just finished watching a beautiful widescreen DVD release of the original European version of Black Sabbath, called 'The Three Faces of Fear'. Having given up on Bava many years ago, I thought this was a good opportunity to try again, and to see what many regard as his masterpiece.

Yes, it is gorgeous to look at: great framing, great tracking, great panning shots, haunting atmosphere. So by all means, try to find a good full-length HD print to appreciate this one.

But for me, each of the three tales in this anthology has the same weaknesses of Bava's other films. No compelling plotlines, and none of the fascinating characterizations needed to keep the audience in a tight grip. Even Boris Karloff, while always a pleasure to watch, is not as engrossing as usual.

Still, Black Sabbath is a remarkable accomplishment. So in a nutshell, maybe one should borrow François Truffaut's famous comment to Alfred Hitchcock, regarding Under Capricorn: 'Perhaps not a good film, but a beautiful film.'

Other reviewers of The Doctor and the Girl have rightfully praised its excellent treatment of a plot-line that at first glance seems familiar, even hackneyed. Of course, the sterling performances of everybody on screen are a huge asset to the picture. But for me, the gold medal has to be given to Curtis Bernhardt's expert handling of Theodore Reeves' adroit screenplay.

It's a tightly-paced film, with very few exteriors. But Bernhardt's brilliant interiors give superb depth to each scene and each character, from stern Charles Coburn to sylphlike Janet Leigh to earnest Bruce Bennett (in a great supporting role as an unassuming ENT specialist). The director keeps everybody's performance low-key and believable. In her first scenes, sickly Janet Leigh seems to be wearing no makeup at all. And even Charles Coburn isn't allowed to milk his scenes to the limit.

A master of lighting and camera angles, Bernhardt was one of the numerous excellent filmmakers in exile from Nazi Germany. His filmography is a strong one, studded with many entertaining films of the forties and fifties. Conflict, starring a quintessential Humphrey Bogart, and My Reputation with Barbara Stanwyck at her best, are two goodies that come to mind. And let's not forget Possessed, highlighted by Joan Crawford's hallucinatory performance.

But unlike some other exiled directors - such as Wilder, Lubitsch, Lang and Sirk - Curtis Bernhardt hasn't got any universally acclaimed masterpieces on his résumé, so he is often neglected by movie historians. But he was certainly a talent to reckon with, and any of his pictures deserve a careful look.

P.S. I totally concur with EliotTempleton's comments about Hollywood having a very long history of movies with medical themes. In fact Theodore Reeves, the main writer for this film, was the author of many medical screenplays dating back to the 1930s.

In a nutshell, I'd call this police drama 'pretty good'. But not nearly as excellent as some reviewers have made it out to be. On the plus side are the standout performances of tough cop Lino Ventura and his rookie assistant, the enchanting Marlène Jobert.

In the early 1970s Jobert was probably France's most in-demand actress, so lovely and so endearing that it was hard not to fall in love with her. I succombed immediately on seeing her irresistible performance in René Clément's classic Rider on the Rain, where she is perfectly paired with the redoubtable Charles Bronson.

Also on the plus side are many gorgeous glimpses of Paris, by day and by night. On the minus side though, is the contrived drama of the movie. Like many French police films of the period, it tries too hard to be more than a police story. It strives to be a meaningful essay on modern society, morality and lost illusions.

Still, it's pretty good, and if you're a fan of directors like Sidney Lumet, Arthur Penn and Elia Kazan, you'll probably find a great deal to like in Dernier domicile connu.

But if your taste runs more toward Alfred Hitchcock and Fritz Lang, you can skip this one and go directly to Rider on the Rain.

Caught this virtually unknown British crime film recently, only because I enjoy almost any British feature made in the early 1950s. Wasn't expecting much, but what a surprise! The Secret's unusual plot line involves a police search for a missing mother of two children, who is feared drowned in the sea off Brighton. The brilliant Sam Wanamaker, in exile in Britain due to fears of McCarthyism back home, leads a very capable cast. There are believable and touching performances all around, with special mentions going to André Morell and to child actress 'Mandy' (Katie Martin). The Eastmancolor in the print I viewed was badly faded, but it was easy to see how beautiful The Secret must have looked when first released in 1955. The location filming all over Brighton is a treat, and Cy Endfield's direction is more than competent. So glad I saw this one...it knocked me out.

My main trepidation when tuning in to this costumer was that there would be California accents ringing all around Richard Greene and Merrie England...but no! Everyone from lovely Barbara Hale to the slew of Hollywood western veterans that surround her (including Ray Teal, Harry Lauter, and the always excellent Myron Healy) all come up with admirable mid-Atlantic intonations. Yes, the plot is old as the hills, and the production values are B+ rather than A. But the technicolor is great, and the drama and thrills are definitely there. This overlooked movie is pure comfort viewing for anyone who enjoys ridiculous historical adventures from 1950s Hollywood. Loved it.

Have seen this film several times and always enjoy it. Very typical John Ford: easy-going, some high drama, some great on-location color photography, wonderful performances (with quite a bit of Fordian over-acting).

There have been some frankly negative reviews of this picture (Leonard Maltin's book gives it just 1 and a half stars!) but don't let that deter you if you just want to be entertained for 90 minutes and transported to London 1958.

It's not a thriller, not a who-done-it. It's just John Ford's treatment of a colorful day in the life of a Scotland Yard inspector and his family. If that's something that appeals to you, then by all means sit back and enjoy.