A Grandiose Charlton Heston Guides the Masses in DeMille's Towering Ten Commandments

A true old-school Hollywood blockbuster in the best biblical sense, Paramount’s 1956 rendering of the story of Moses allows Epic genre maestro Cecil B. DeMille his grand finale behind the camera. After decades of mixing elements of religion and titillation to score massive box-office numbers, including the intriguing 1923 version of Commandments, which combines modern era material with passages from the Good Book, 1927’s King of Kings, 1932’s The Sign of the Cross, with both Claudette Colbert and Charles Laughton vamping it up with glee, and Samson and Delilah, the Hedy Lamarr/Victor Mature potboiler which got the 1950s off to a great start for DeMille, at least judging by the public’s reaction at the box office. On the event of his Commandments redux, DeMille was clearly in complete control of his particular artform and fully capable of mounting a mammoth undertaking with great flair, while keeping a firm eye on bringing moviegoers exactly the kind of enticing entertainment they wanted and expected from him. The ace director served the populace well, with The Ten Commandments’ awesome production values, including VistaVision scope, gorgeous Technicolor lensed by Loyal Griggs, A-1 production and costume designs by a host of top craftsmen and women, including Hal Pereira and Edith Head, and an impactful Elmer Bernstein score, combined with DeMille’s confident helming and a top cast of players in synch with their often-florid roles, managing to keep audiences enthralled throughout the narrative’s 220 minutes, regardless of how many seasonal (or otherwise) watches may be involved.

                A true cinema pioneer, DeMille gained major success from the start of this art form, launching his career with 1914’s The Squaw Man, thereby codirecting Hollywood’s first feature film with Oscar Apfel. During the 1910s and 1920s DeMille would continue to thrive as he honed his skills behind the camera, directing such escapist entertainment as 1919’s Male and Female, which helped Gloria Swanson become one of the silent era’s biggest draws, and reaching box-office heights he would become renown for with Commandments and Kings. With the event of sound pictures, after a few attempts (including a remake of Squaw Man), DeMille would make his affluent mark with Cross, then remain one of Hollywood’s most reliable hit makers for the rest of his life with Cleopatra, The Plainsman, Reap the Wild Wind, finishing his director/producer efforts in awesome, megahit fashion with three films that placed among the highest grossing ever: Samson, 1952’s Oscar-winning Best Picture The Greatest Show on Earth and Commandments. With his final directional endeavor, all the years DeMille spent as a master craftsman of large-scale storytelling is in evidence, from the interweaving of the many scenarios and characters in the film, to set pieces such as Moses’ receiving the Commandments on the mountain, to the (for 1956) daring Golden Calf kind-of orgy sequence, to the still-remarkable parting of the Rea Sea, one of filmdom’s most transfixing scenes, with its revolutionary use of special effects. DeMille also utilizes his deep, imposing voice as the movie’s narrator, making sure audiences are reminded who’s responsible for this all-mighty production. Although he left behind a rich filmography, his work on Commandments primarily assures his name will endure with filmgoers.

                Charlton Heston had witnessed a smooth transaction into films after studying drama at Northwestern University, then serving during WWII with the U.S. Air Force, finding his stoic-yet-intense demeanor and chiseled features made him an ideal fit for both idealist heroes and, on occasion, those with a more ambiguous moral bent, as seen in his Hollywood debut Dark City (after Heston had appeared in a student film and a low-budget adaption of Julius Caesar), 1952’s enjoyably overblown Ruby Gentry and The Naked Jungle, 1954’s other great ant-themed film after Them! The same year as Ruby¸ Heston set himself up as the go-to leading man for stupendous studio productions when DeMille picked him of one of the main stars of Greatest Show. After this noteworthy success, the in-demand Heston bided his time is a variety of dramas, adventures and even an attempt at comedy via 1955’s The Private War of Major Benson before DeMille came calling again to offer him the career-defining role of Moses. Heston brings great authority and nobility to the prime role, and suggests both the decency and strength the hero needs to face the wealth of challenges imposed on him throughout the lengthy storyline, while still remaining a figure audiences can identify with and root for. After sealing his fate as himself as (literally) an epic force in film, Heston would in short order reach his pinnacle in this mode with Oscar-winning work as the title figure in another monumental piece of cinema, 1959’s Ben-Hur. Continuing in (mainly) heroic mode with the hits El Cid and Planet of the Apes, and via intriguing more personal fare such as Major Dundee and Will Penny, Heston would build on his solid filmography during the 1960s. Embracing villainy with glee, Heston was in fine form as Cardinal Richelieu in 1973’s The Three Musketeers and its sequel, while convincingly tackling the popular disaster genre with Earthquake and Airport 1975 and gaining one of his most quotable lines in Soylent Green. Moving into the 1980s and beyond, as a Hollywood elder stateman Heston would focus more on offscreen endeavors, but return with his customary forceful presence intact for “guest” type appearances in hits such as Tombstone, Wayne’s World 2, True Lies, then two apropos entries among his final credits (before his death in 2008), in the 2001 update of Planet of the Apes and as the voice of Judah Ben-Hur in the 2003 remake.

                1956 brought one of the greatest years ever onscreen for a performer, with Yul Brynner a magnetic standout in three of the year’s major critical and box-office successes, Anatasia, The King and I and Commandments. Making his film debut in 1949’s Port of New York after a fascinating globe-trotting life (starting with his 1920 birth in Russia) which included working as a bilingual radio announcer during WWII, appearing on Broadway opposite Mary Martin in Lute Song and serving as a director of live television at CBS during the network’s early years, Brynner would break through to major fame with his singular, Tony-winning work in The King and I, which opened on Broadway in 1951, a role he would end up playing over 4,600 times on stage, up until just before his 1985 death. Recreating the flavorful role on film to astounding critical and audience reaction, with an Oscar his ultimate victory after such stellar 1956 output, Brynner followed this with equally authoritative, mesmerizing work as Ramesses II, Moses’ chief counterpoint (DeMille had offered him the role after seeing him onstage in King). Imbuing an exotic sensuality and dynamic emotionally driven performance style, Brynner enlivens Commandments with each formidable appearance. Brynner would complete his awesome 1956 hat trick with another engaging, sexy account opposite Ingrid Bergman (his female Oscar counterpart for the year) in Anatasia. Inevitably Brynner, now a superstar and top ten box-office draw as the most famous screen baldy since Erich von Stroheim, would never match this once-in-a-generation type of cinematic year (see also Gloria Grahame’s 1952 and Sidney Poitier’s 1967). However, plenty of interesting work lay ahead, including 1958’s The Brothers Karamazov (as Dmitri), Solomon and Sheba with the equally alluring Gina Lollobrigida, then another major classic with 1960’s The Magnificent Seven, a late career hit with 1973’s sci-fi Westworld, and frequent returns to the stage to gain new legions of fans with The King and I.

                In the two main leading female roles, Yvonne DeCarlo and Anne Baxter offer satisfying contrasting takes, with De Carlo bringing warmth and subtilty to her portrayal of Sephora, Moses’ supportive, understanding wife, while Anne Baxter goes full 1950’s melodramatic mode as Nefretiri, the seductive princess with her own designs on Moses. The earnestness and skill De Carlo brought to her best roles, such as one of film noir’s most believable and captivating femme fatales in Criss Cross, is in full evidence in Commandments, with De Carlo adding admirable focus and conviction to the part, while matching the daunting Heston strength-for-strength as they illustrate the strong bond between Moses and Sephora. Baxter lends the florid intensity that helped land her an Oscar for The Razor’s Edge and convey the proper venom as the title character in All About Eve to her grandiloquent work as Nefretiri. In a huge production enacting alongside two imposing male costars, Baxter appears intent on keeping pace with all the flamboyant onscreen activity, and succeeds in vividly embellishing each of Nefretiri’s ignoble actions with energy and a hefty amount of emoting, resulting in a performance that may not be among Baxter’s most dexterous work, but one that fits in well with the general fun, elaborate tone of DeMille’s vision.

Several other members of the stacked, all-star cast also instill plenty of ham into their meaty roles. As the underhanded Dathan, Edward G. Robinson is in his liveliest gangster mode, and therefore ranks high among the most noticeable portrayals. Others adept at often being up to no good in films, including Vincent Price, Sir Cedric Hardwicke and Judith Anderson, stand out with their typical aplomb. Regarding those taking a more subdued approach, Nina Foch and Martha Scott are both believable and likeable as Moses’ adopted and biological mothers, and Olive Deering, whom DeMille first used in Samson, has her ultra-soulful eyes and haunting presence well-utilized as Moses’ sister, Miriam. The lovely, ethereal Debra Paget solidifies her place as one of the era’s top ingenues, after starting off the decade in fine fashion with Broken Arrow then, around the same time as Commandments, appearing as Elvis Presley’s first onscreen romantic interest in Love Me Tender. In Commandments, as Lilia Paget maintains a wide-eyed, appealing innocence, even when placed (abet against her will) in close proximity to that Golden Calf, with its inherent debaucheries. Handsome, stoic John Derek, in his signature role as Joshua, falls somewhere into between the overt playing and a more straightforward style of acting, while other well-known names are seen to good advantage, including DeMille regular Henry Wilcoxon, John Carradine (as Moses’ brother, Aaron), Douglas Dumbrille, H.B. Warner, Ian Keith and Woody Strode, properly majestic as the King of Ethiopia. In bit parts, ten-year-old (or so) Kathy Garver can be spotted before greater fame on television, ditto Clint Walker, Michael Ansara, Robert Vaughn and Mike (Touch) Connors, Herb Alpert pops up as a drummer and Heston’s son, Fraser, appears as the infant Moses.

During a year of immense productions (Giant, War and Peace and the eventual Best Picture winner Around the World in Eighty Days chief among these) The Ten Commandments placed at the top of the heap, at least in terms of a box-office pull as colossal as the sites seen onscreen. After its initial first run, with rentals of $43,000,000 (according to Variety) the epic challenged Gone with the Wind and newcomer Ben-Hur in regards to highest box-office take ever (re-releases of Wind would move it ahead, with Commandments eventually outdoing Hur); today Commandments still sits among the top ten hits ever, when figures are adjusted for inflation. Unlike some other DeMille tour de forces, reviewers were largely also onboard with Commandments from the start, with many citing the film as the ultimate DeMille achievement. Come awards season, the film made a nice showing (outside of DeMille, who did not place among the top directors either at the Director’s Guild Awards or at the Oscars), with Brynner’s work being cited in his Best Actor win from the National Board of Review (along with his other two 1956 screen ventures), helping him to later sew up that Best Actor Oscar win over imposing competition, specifically Kirk Douglas as Vincent van Gogh in Lust for Life. Heston was nominated for a Golden Globe, and come Oscar time the movie made the Best Picture lineup among its seven nominations and won an Oscar for John P. Fulton’s superb special effects. More recent accolades include placement at #10 on the AFI 2008 list of the top epics and inclusion on the National Film Registry’s 1999 list. With yearly television screenings over the last 50 years or so around Easter, DeMille’s classic saga has not diminished in appeal, with each new generation finding avid audiences ready to indulge in the movie’s juicy merits, whether one is viewing the film for the first time or as many times as there are commandments. With staggering production values, a “Cast of Thousands” eagerly selling every aspect of the outsized scenario, and a director determined to make his final journey behind the camera his most enduring, The Ten Commandments still reigns supreme as one of the 1950’s definitive films, worthy of a watch during Eastertime, or elsewhere on the calendar.

 

Buster Keaton Sails to Cinematic Glory in The Navigator

 

                 Among a rich filmography containing some of the greatest comedies ever made, with a plethora of ingenious sight gags marking the sign of a true master of the genre, 1924’s production of The Navigator stands as a peak example of the artistry the inspired Buster Keaton brought to the screen. After an early period of success with a series of highly imaginative short films, wherein Keaton developed his craft as a true visionary, he moved into feature-length productions starting with 1920’s The Saphead, then entered a golden period with such classics as Our Hospitality and, just before The Navigator, Sherlock Jr., also from 1924. Solid box office returns from his early films allowed Keaton to produce The Navigator on a larger scale in unfolding the tale of hapless heir Rollo Treadway (Keaton), who through a series of misadventures finds himself aboard the title vessel and lost at sea with his beloved, the charming, spirited and also affluent Betsy O’Brian (Kathyn McGuire, fresh from costarring with Keaton in Sherlock). How Rollo and Betsy manage to endure such calamities as a wayward ship seemingly intent on keeping the duo in a constant state of disarray and a group of cannibals also determined to bring catastrophe to the couple provides an entertaining and rollicking showcase of Keaton at the height of creative powers.

                Deftly adapting the amusing screenplay by Clyde Bruckman, Jean C. Havez, Joesph A. Mitchell and himself, with the help of co-director Donald Crisp, who focused on the more straightforward dramatic segments (also Keaton stated Crisp became too interested in the comedic elements of the story) while Keaton worked out the comedy sequences, such as an awesomely staged chase around the deck of the ship (really the USTA Bulford, first launched in 1890) wherein Rollo and Betsy seek out each other in a progressively more frantic state, Keaton appears to thrive illustrating the complex set pieces involved in the story. In one of the more daringly filmed escapades found in his work, Keaton finds a way to navigate the camera around bits of business filmed underwater, as Rollo attempts to mend the ship, with inference from sea creatures (namely swordfish and a territorial octopus), while also dealing with lack of oxygen due to an onslaught by cannibals aboveboard. Keaton had to experiment with filming in several locales, including Santa Catalina and a swimming pool, before finally completing the stirring scene via the icy waters of Lake Tahoe, with an admirable dedication that saw Keaton fighting the chills throughout filming, while maintaining Rollo’s stoic demeanor with a professional verve that belie the calumnious nature of the actual filming.

                In addition to the accomplished underwater centerpiece segment, Keaton properly utilizes his “stone face” persona to maximum effect throughout the film, while lending a more animated visage when appropriate, such as when Besty rebuffs his advances, or when battling adversaries both above deck, underwater or, briefly, while among the island natives after emerging from the sea to rescue Betsy before she suffers a sure-to-be fate worse than death. Keaton’s complete involvement in the movie shines through, as a viewer senses the strong will and talent at hand in forming his seamless, constantly amusing and riveting entertainment. Sustaining a very fruitful and artistically rewarding period in the 1920’s post-The Navigator, Keaton would thrive directing and starring in such dynamic offerings as Seven Chances, Go West, The General, College, Steamboat Bill, Jr. and The Cameraman before, along with many of his silent film contemporaries, slowly losing his place among the Hollywood elite with the event of sound films. However, Keaton would remain a presence in films until his death in 1966 at age 70, working at a variety of studios in the 1930s-40s before returning to MGM, wherein he had created some of his finest films, to costar in high-profile A-features such as 1946’s Easy to Wed and two of 1949’s big MGM hits, Take Me out to the Ballgame and In the Good Old Summertime. The 1950s brought a resurgence for Keaton, starting with a brief appearance in Sunset Boulevard as himself, followed by work opposite Chaplin in Limelight and television output which helped raise his profile to a new generation of fans interested in his masterful cinematic works, leading to a 1957 biopic starring Donald O’Connor as Keaton and cameos in two blockbusters, 1956’s Oscar-winning Around the World in Eighty Days and the all-star mammoth 1963 comedy It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad World. After lending class and his distinct, invaluable comic expertise to a series of films from the “Beach Party” genre, including Pajama Party, How to Stuff a Wild Bikini and the best of the bunch, the lively, frivolous Beach Blanket Bingo, before aptly rating a final screen appearance among other top comics such as Zero Mostel and Phil Silvers in 1966’s zany A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.

                The petite but sturdy Kathyn McGuire proves herself an ideal leading lady for Keaton, committing to the various athletically inclined visual gags by exhibiting the same adventurous spirit and derring-do as her fearless costar. Trained as a dancer and pegged a new star after selection in 1922 as a “WAMPAS Baby Star,” the lovely and energetic McGuire uses her agile deftness to great effect, both in and out of the water as Betsy and Rollo continually work to find ways to manage daily living on the ship while surviving one setback after another. McGuire also graces the screen with a natural presence nicely suitable to Betsy, whether the character is demurely refusing the tactless Rollo’s direct offers of marriage at the film’s outset, or becoming more devoted to her admirer as time passes and the couple overcome a series of obstacles as their relationship develops under the most unorthodox conditions, lending them to ultimately find a level of comfort in their new surroundings. McGuire and Keaton create a sense of playful teamwork throughout the film, helping the audience believe in their pairing and the difficult state of affairs they find themselves privy to, while hoping this endearing couple will survive the assortment of adversities they face to gain happiness at the film’s end. Although McGuire’s film career only spanned the 1920’s (she married late in the decade and abandoned her burgeoning career), her terrific chemistry with Keaton and honest, beguiling playing in two of his greatest films ensure her a place among the most appealing ingenues of her era.

                Due to the nature of the script, few supporting characters factor in the story to any substantial extent, although Crisp makes a vivid appearance in photo form as a menacing picture that unsettles both Rollo and Betsy to a considerable degree in one of the film’s most amusing passages, as his image weaves in and out of sight in front of a porthole. Among the others, a talented monkey, possibly Josephine, who also turns up in other famous works, such as Keaton’s Cameraman and Chaplin’s The Circus, gains one of the movie’s biggest laughs throwing a coconut with perfect precision during a lively sequence wherein the cannibals attempt to overtake the ship using the coconut tree as a ladder to get onboard, with the mischievous simian apparently all for the idea as he spots Rollo, then forcefully hurls his round missile at the hero, resulting in Keaton delivering a beautiful pratfall to great comic effect.

Released in October of 1924 at New York’s Capital Theater, The Navigator found favor with audiences and critics, furthering Keaton’s status as a cinematic comic genius and placing on Photoplay’s list of top films and performances in December 1924. Keaton went on to claim the movie among his best, an opinion shared by the National Film Registry, which included The Navigator among its selections for preservation in 2018, and the American Film Institute, which placed the singular work at #82 on its 2000 list of the top comedies, one of three Keaton classic mentioned, along with Sherlock Jr. (at #62) and The General (at #18). The decades have only increased the reputation of one of Keaton’s most carefully-crafted and innovative endeavors, to the extent that The Navigator remains among the most indelible and captivating comedies to come out of Hollywood, containing the sincere, touching-yet-unsentimental approach that were a hallmark of Keaton’s trove of classic comedies, allowing them to maintain a freshness and undiminished modern air a century removed from Keaton’s 1920’s heyday.

Claudette Colbert Reigns Supreme in Mitchell Leisen’s Sparkling Midnight

 

Among the 1930’s treasure trove of light, sophisticated comedies, few shine as bright as one entry not always mentioned among the likes of My Man Godfrey, The Awful Truth or Bringing Up Baby. However, in what is largely considered Hollywood’s “Golden Year” for films, Paramount Pictures had a truly sterling offering among the multitude of 1939 classics with the classy, whimsical Midnight. Mitchell Leisen, helming Arthur Hornblow Jr.’s first-rate production with great finesse, beautifully transfers the wealth of comic highlights and ingenious plot twists found in the imaginative script by Charles Brackett and Billy Wilder (adapted from a story by Edwin Justus Mayer and Franz Schultz) to the screen with precise pacing that maintains a consistently beguiling tone. Leisen also showcases his roster of top talent in front of the screen perfectly, allowing each player to shine in skillfully modulated performances rife with deft comic timing, in the process creating some of the breeziest, most stylish 94 minutes found in the screwball comedy genre, or anywhere else.

Claudette Colbert, at the height of her career after scoring a multitude of hits, including a mammoth 1934 that featured her in the title role of Cleopatra as well as Imitation of Life and her Oscar-winning role in the landmark It Happened One Night, is ideally suited to the role of Eve Peabody, a young woman finding herself stranded in Paris on a rainy night after losing her assets gambling in Monte Carlo but, gowned in the first of a series of gorgeous gowns by Irene, clearly not without other assets, setting her up for the Cinderella run alluded to by the movie’s title. Although the character might be irresponsible and troublesome on paper, with charm and warmth the chic, bemused Colbert gets the audience on Eve’s aside from the get-go, coming across as so good-natured and worldly-wise it’s impossible not to root for Eve, even at her most coquettish. Colbert slyly captures the duplicity of the character as Eve concocts some of the aforementioned plot twists, and she’s so crafty and funny bringing off the ruses one eagerly looks forward to each of her vastly entertaining deceptions. Colbert would continue to thrive in films throughout the 1940s, gaining an Oscar nomination for a matronly role in Since You Went Way and landing one of her biggest hits via 1947’s The Egg and I, before lessening her film output in the 1950s as she focused on other endeavors, including a return to Broadway, wherein she had attained early-career notice. 1961’s Parrish represented Colbert’s last feature film, followed years later by a nice career adieu with a Golden Globe winning, Emmy nominated turn on television in 1987’s The Two Mrs. Grenvilles.

Don Ameche rates one of his best roles and performances as Tibor Czerny, the taxicab driver who meets Eve at the film’s outset and quickly becomes enamored of her charms as he takes her around Paris. Obtaining success as a contract player at 20^th Century Fox in the mid-1930s opposite the likes of Alice Faye and Tyrone Power in popular output such as in In Old Chicago, 1939 would prove a prime year for the handsome star, with his amiable work in Midnight immediately followed by a signature role in a more dramatic vein, portraying the title figure in The Story of Alexander Graham Bell. For Midnight, Ameche graces Tibor with an attractive matter-of-fact air and playfulness in key early scenes with Colbert whom he shares an easy chemistry with, and he cuts a fine romantic figure as an everyman who is loyal, generous and humorous. Later, as the action moves to a country estate and Tibor finds himself at odds with Eve’s coy tactics, Ameche’s high-pitched tonal shift in delivery as Tibor becomes agitated with and embroiled in a stream of confusing contrivances is adorable and very funny. Ameche would continue to proper at Fox during the 1940s, with first-class work in Ernst Lubitsch’s Heaven Can Wait particularly noteworthy, before witnessing a professional ebb onscreen that ended with a resounding surge in the 1980s, brought about by the huge success of Trading Places and Cocoon, which brought Ameche a late-career Oscar.

                John Barrymore also finds a top career assignment as Georges Flammarion, the alert and mischievous member of the upper-class who takes a great interest in Eve’s affairs (literally). Barrymore may have been near the end of his career and life at the Midnight stage, but based on his lively, scene-stealing work in the film, hard-living had done little to dim his theatrical gifts and screen magnetism, as Barrymore appears to be relishing the chance to tackle the high-comedy aspects of the part with a thespian flourish that’s a delight to behold. As Georges’ philandering, cosmopolitan wife, Helene, Mary Astor appears every inch the part of a high society matron and trades barbs with Colbert with delightfully bitchy brio, while also demonstrating a deeper, more serious tone when apt. It’s also interesting to see Astor paired up with Barrymore, her former flame who helped bring the beautiful young Astor to screen stardom in the mid 1920’s via Beau Brumell and Don Juan. Georges and Helene represent one of the more forward-thinking married couples in classic film, suggesting a seemingly open relationship, which Brackett and Wilder artfully scripted to get past the rigid production code, and Barrymore and Astor do a terrific job making the Flammarions’ unorthodox bond believable. Post-Midnight, Astor would find her peak in 1941 with imperishable work as the conniving Brigid O’Shaughnessy in The Maltese Falcon and a Supporting Actress Oscar for once again being at odds onscreen with a major femme star (this time Bette Davis) in The Great Lie.

Handsome, genital Francis Lederer is also an ideal fit as rich playboy Jacques, who sets his cap for Eva in love-at-first-sight fashion, much to Helene’s chagrin. Lederer does a fine job of making Jacques serenely appealing in his pursuit of Eve at Helene’s expense, instead of coming across as the rakish cad he would be in real life. Rex O’Malley gets his share of zingers as the jet-setting, highly urbane (code for gay in the 1930s) Marcel Renaud, who first discovers the party-crashing Eve at a soirée and introduces her to the Flammarions and Jacques, thereby setting the film’s mistaken identity scenario in motion. As Stephanie, the socialite who hosts the party that enlivens the plot considerably, Hedda Hopper looks elegant and has a pleasant, friendly demeanor not seen as frequently in her more famous off-screen role as one of Hollywood’s most powerful columnists. Finally, Elaine Barrie, aka Mrs. John Barrymore at the time, does very well in the small role of Simone, the knowing milliner who offers a few observations on the tantalizing activities surrounding her.

Released in March of 1939, Midnight found favor with audiences and critics but, in a highly competitive year, failed to be cited much during the awards season. Through the passing decades, as the screwball genre rose in merit and elevated many of the decade’s top comedies included therein to classic status, Midnight was somehow often not listed among the chief films considered the most noteworthy. However, more recent showings on television and through releases on physical media have given movie lovers a chance to rediscover one of the true gems of 1930’s cinema. Filled with witty repertoire, glamourous settings, and a director and cast in beautiful synch with the spirited-yet-elegant flavor of the piece, this escapist tale of love and machinations found among the elite and would-be elite remains a fresh and enchanting viewing experience for those looking to be amused at Midnight, or any other time. 

Ann-Margret Soars to Stardom in Bye Bye Birdie

                Harkening back to an innocent, Baby Boomer-style Americana prior to upheavals shortly to come, 1963’s Bye Bye Birdie from Columbia Pictures offers a lively musical/comedy entertainment that wins an audience over with plenty of upbeat numbers inventively choregraphed by Oona White, a fun, good-natured tone upheld throughout the whimsical story’s unfolding by veteran director George Sidney and via the star-making, dedicated performance of the gifted, alluring and magnetic Ann-Margret, whom Sidney wisely centers many key musical segments around, including the iconic opening and closing retentions of the title song created for the movie. Based on the hit 1960 Broadway success, with book by Michael Stewart, lyrics by Lee Adams and music by Charles Strouse, the Irving Brecher screenplay adroitly transfers the material involving the title figure, Conrad Birdie, an Elvis-inspired teen idol, his induction into the Army and the frenzy it causes among his followers, while Sidney sets up tunes such as “The Telephone Hour,” “Honestly Sincere” and “A Lot of Livin’ to Do” with ingratiating style and humor. With a game, energetic cast lead by Dick Van Dyke recreating his Tony-winning role and a buoyant, playful scoring by Johnny Green that is in perfect sync with Sidney’s high-spirited helming, Bye Bye Birdie offers viewers a nostalgic opportunity to spend 111 minutes looking back at a more carefree cinematic era.

By 1963 George Sidney had solidified his position among the top film directors of the musical/comedy ilk, finding great success at the outset of his career in the 1940s via his rich association with MGM with hits such as Anchors Aweigh, the 1946 Judy Garland vehicle The Harvey Girls, huge early 1950’s Technicolor smashes Annie Get Your Gun and Showboat, Kiss Me Kate and, post-MGM, continuing his box-office hits at Columbia with 1956’s The Eddy Dunchin Story and the following year’s screen adaptation of Pal Joey, with an ideally cast Frank Sinatra. Helming the all-star 1960 Pepe, meant to be a smash follow-up for the beloved comedian Cantinflas after his triumph in the Oscar winning blockbuster Around the World in Eighty Days, set Sidney back when the film met with a tepid critical and box office reception. However, Sidney appeared invigorated by the choice Birdie assignment, bringing flair and distinction to the carefully crafted musical sequences, and showcasing Ann-Margret to ensure she’s seen to best advantage in the excitingly mounted songs. Although some of the comic material falls flat and there are romantic complications that wear thin, Sidney keeps the action apace enough to ensure the movie doesn’t grow tiresome and, with nearly every number an enlivening winner, helps place Birdie among the better stage-to-film musicals of the period. Following this return to form, Sidney would reteam with Ann-Margret for another big hit, Viva Las Vegas, and a not-so-big hit, The Swinger, before concluding his fruitful career with 1967’s Half a Sixpence.

As Kim MacAfee, the sweet sixteen Sweet Apple, Ohio resident chosen to bestow “One Last Kiss” on Conrad before his Army departure, Ann-Margret justifies the trust Sidney places in her, exhibiting a sense of confidence, talent and love of performing that is overwhelming to watch. The vibrant star takes what could be a standard ingenue role and adds startling charisma and sensuality to the part which, along with her high-powered singing and dancing abilities, allows audiences to become enthralled by her presence, specifically in the famous opening and closing moments wherein, against a dark blue background, as Kim Ann-Margret first laments the drafting of Birdie, then seductively bids him adieu in an exuberant, mischievous fare-thee-well fashion. During these bookends, Ann-Margret performs directly to the camera with such an all-out verve for performing and emotional resonance she places the movie on another level, lingering in memory enough to later inspire a great Mad Men episode based on her unusual impact in these sequences. She also thrives in the showpiece “Livin’” number, dancing with a vigor and abandon that are eye-catching, while also displaying slyness and energy in her opening solo, “How Lovely to Be a Woman,” then bringing a more subtle skill to her plaintive trilling of “One Boy.” After her enormous breakthrough in Birdie, Ann-Margret would banter and generate electric chemistry with her most famous costar, Elvis Presley, in Viva Las Vegas, then proceed throughout the 1960s with a hit-and-miss filmography, gaining a high point via 1965’s The Cincinnati Kid as a flirty vixen opposite Steve McQueen, before reinventing herself as a dramatic star of depth and perception with Oscar-nominated work in 1971’s Carnal Knowledge, then carefully balancing her career afterwards with high voltage appearances on stage and screen (including another Oscar nom, mixing flagrancy and a touching vulnerability in 1975’s wild rock opera Tommy) with moving performances in fare such as television’s Who Will Love My Children?, in the process amassing four Golden Globes to go with her “Best Newcomer of 1962” Globe and, after six nominations, finally winning an Emmy for a 2010 episode of Law & Order: SVU.

For Dick Van Dyke, riding high at the time on television via his self-titled show, with Birdie he launched his feature film career in fitting fashion, bringing his Broadway role of hack songwriter/would be chemist Albert Peterson to the screen with the light, good-natured, boyish charm and agility that made him so easy for audiences to identify with. His earnestness is nicely matched by Janet Leigh as his Girl Friday and fiancée, Rosie. Leigh was at a career high after her legendary performance in Psycho, followed by ace work in another all-time classic, The Manchurian Candidate. Although she may not be an ideal stand-in for Chita Rivera’s acclaimed stage interpretation of Rosie, Leigh’s gifts as an instinctive screen actor, honed since her 1947 debut in MGM’s The Romance of Rosy Ridge, lends a fresh presence to the part, as the star enacts Rosie with focus and energy. She and Van Dyke work very well together, both in narrative scenes and their two numbers together, possibly the best-known standard, “Put on a Happy Face,” and their final scene, singing and dancing to Albert’s ode to his ladylove, “Rosie.” Post-Birdie, Van Dyke soon followed with his biggest screen success in Mary Poppins, then continued to thrive on film and television, while Leigh would pare back her film output as she raised a family, with Harper, The Fog and a nice, touching cameo opposite daughter Jamie Lee Curtis in 1998’s Halloween: H20 representing some of her best later-career work.

Chief among the supporting players, Paul Lynde, a hit in the Broadway production, gains some of the film’s biggest guffaws as Kim’s acerbic father, who is unnerved by the event of Conrad Birdie in Sweet Apple. Lynde’s great comic timing and colorful playing in Birdie helped set him up for a strong list of credits in film and television for the rest of the decade and beyond, including standout work on Bewitched, then major stardom as the center of Hollywood Squares, while Mary LaRoche does a nice job emulating the perfect Donna Reed-type housewife as Kim’s also-concerned mother. Maureen Stapleton is prominent as Albert’s possessive mom, getting her best moment dueting with Lynde on the amusing “Kids.” True teen idol Bobby Rydell, sporting an amazing pompadour and toothy grin, matches up well with Ann-Margret as Hugo, Kim’s boyfriend jealous of Birdie’s connection to Kim, and demonstrates the strong vocal prowess that made him such a hit on records during the early-mid 1960s during the “Livin’” number.  As the title character, Jesse Pearson captures Birdie’s egocentric nature and brings a playful liveliness to his big “Honesty Sincere” showcase and while singing his portion of “Livin’.” Playing themselves, John Daly (from What’s My Line?) and Ed Sullivan (who is paid tribute to in song) add to the merriment and help firmly set the movie’s early 1960’s sense of time-and-place.

With an April 1963 opening, Bye Bye Birdie went on to set a box office record at the Radio City Music Hall and placed in the top ten hits of the year with $6,000,000 in rentals (according to Variety). The film garnered some mixed reviews but propelled Ann-Margret, who graced the cover of Life magazine shortly before the release of Birdie, to major stardom. During awards season, both the movie and Ann-Margret would gain Golden Globe nominations in the Musical/Comedy category, while the Oscars would nominate Birdie for Best Scoring- Adaptation or Treatment (Johnny Green) and Best Sound (Charles Rice). The soundtrack also met with success, rising to #2 for two weeks on the Billboard album chart. Physical media releases, television showings, several songs becoming standards with pop cultural references in shows such as the aforementioned Mad Men, The Simpsons and Friends, and Ann-Margret’s iconic opening and closing of the film have allowed Birdie to remain among the most beloved musicals of its era, while gaining additional fans with each new generation. Those looking for a diverting, satirical musical/comedy featuring a remarkable star-making performance should ignore the title and welcome a watch of this high-flying Birdie.

Cary Grant Stylishly Treks North By Northwest in a Classic Hitchcock Romp

 

Constituting one of the most perfectly-packaged entertainments of its era, MGM’s sleek 1959 production of Northwest by Northwest provides filmgoers avid for an enthralling night at the movies the ideal venue to forgo reality and dive into a thrilling adventure guided by the masterful hand of Alfred Hitchcock. Armed with a Grade-A cast and top talent in every department, including a typically rousing score, artful editing and ace cinematography by regular Hitchcock collaborators Bernard Herrmann, George Tomasini and Robert Burks, respectfully, and a terrific original screenplay by Ernest Lehman that could serve as a blueprint for all mistaken-identity storylines featuring a charismatic hero haplessly caught in a web of intrigue and in the arms of a mysterious could-be femme fatale. Mixing a host of intoxicating elements together with great wit and clarity, Hitchcock concocts one of his classiest and most enduring capers with his exhilarating trip North by Northwest.

Nearing the end of a decade wherein he witnessed a peak period of creativeness and popularity, both in films and on television with the event of Alfred Hitchcock Presents in 1955, the prodigiously talented director was surely looking for a viable commercial property to end the 1950s on a high note, after his previous, possible most personal work, Vertigo, brought in decent returns but failed to meet with the public enthusiasm granted other recent Hitchcock offerings such as Rear Window and To Catch a Thief. Lehman’s escapade-laden scenario, featuring aspects of comedy, romance and suspense, with memorably-drawn characters, both of noble and disreputable inclinations, gave Hitchcock ample material to work up some of his most lasting imagery onscreen, while also taking care of his famous cameo appearance more swiftly than, but as amusingly as in any other of his films. The film’s other wealth of assets exciting, including superlatively staged set pieces, specifically the famous crop duster sequence and imperiling Mount Rushmore finale, allows a top-of-his-game Hitchcock to display all of his formidable skills, once again proving his fully warranted “Master of Suspense” title in the process.

Cary Grant slips into the role of Roger Thornhill, the beleaguered advertising executive unwittingly drawn into the central plot surrounding the enigmatic “George Kaplan,” with apparently effortless class and charm. Grant, at the peak of his abilities and star charisma after over twenty years as a top male draw in such classic films as The Awful Truth, His Girl Friday and three previous Hitchcock outings, confidently depicts Roger’s mounting confusion and desperate attempts to avoid run-ins with said crop duster and other adversaries with the skill of a screen veteran who knows how to make his character’s every move come across as persuasive and relatable to audiences. In one of his best moments, Grant deftly maneuvers through a sequence wherein a drunken Roger deals with an out-of-control car, then the police, with a perfect blend of comic deftness and believability, not once making the bit come across as hokey. Judiciously utilizing his acute acting skill, Grant makes Roger a simultaneously cool and affable hero one is drawn to from the first frame to last, allowing a viewer to except all the improbable circumstances he becomes embroiled in, while enjoying every minute of watching how Thornhill/Grant will attempt to escape from his latest dangerous obstacle.

Northwest represented a change-of-pace for lovely, talented Eva Marie Saint, playing the alluring Eve Kendall, who seductively meets Roger on a train and quickly trysts with him, before plot entanglements reveal deeper motives on Eve’s part. Starting in television and on the stage in the late 1940s Saint, in a manner apropos to her surname, established herself as a moralistic, dramatic heroine of rare persuasion in films with her Oscar-winning debut in 1954’s On the Waterfront, and continued in this vein via Raintree County and riveting work in A Hatful of Rain. Hitchcock, deploying Saint as his latest enticing blonde, allows the star a chance to add glamour and some morally ambiguous shadings to allow Eve to attract a viewer’s interest from her first run-in with Roger as strangers on a train, a meeting that works out as stimulatingly as in an earlier Hitchcock classic. Saint appears to be relishing playing opposite Grant, especially in their romantic moments, including some clever, suggestive banter, while also using her strong dramatic gifts to later vividly show the turmoil Eve feels entrapped in as plot complications thicken and Eve is caught up with Grant between Mount Rushmore and a hard place. Saint would remain a foremost leading lady in films throughout the 1960s, starring in top offerings such as Exodus, Grand Prix and The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming, while carefully balancing a fruitful career with alternate roles as wife and mother, then continue to work in films and one television, gaining an Emmy in the process. North would join Waterfront as one of the bona fide seminal works in her filmography, with Saint honoring these and other quality films on her resume by serving as an unofficial ambassador for classic movies, appearing in the L.A. area frequently to offer wonderful interviews to rapt audiences, wherein she discussed her involvement with specific films being screened, and her fascinating career in general.

As Roger’s chief North adversary, Phillip Vandamm, James Mason imbues the role with a calm, disarming self-satisfaction that marks him a perfect dastardly counterpoint to Grant’s smooth playing in heroic mode. Mason was having a fine run in the 1950s, scoring with portrayals of difficult, morose men facing serious conflicts, specifically as a Norman Maine and Captain Nemo for the ages in his incredible 1954 one-two punch of A Star is Born and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, and in possibly the decade’s most surprising and harrowing suburban drama, Bigger Than Life, playing a teacher and family man who gets hooked on cortisone and goes berserk. Playing an outright villain in North, Mason is clearly in his element and appears to be having a lot of fun in the part, taunting Thornhill with a relaxed dexterity that indicates Vandamm is so assured a rogue that any explanation Roger offers Philip concerning who he is will be simply dismissed. With Mason’s firm grasp of the role, one believes Philip will gain his objectives by any means necessary, however macabre they may be, not minding and even enjoying it if a murder or two comes into play. Post-North, Mason would close out the decade with the vastly enjoyable sci-fi smash Journey to the Center of the Earth, then find later-career success in character parts, specifically with his wonderful work as Humbert Humbert in Lolita and Oscar nominations for Georgy Girl and The Verdict.

Jessie Royce Landis, returning to Hitchcock and Grant with aplomb after her success in Thief, steals several moments with her florid portrayal of Roger’s non-nonsense, wry mother, Clara. With her sly retorts and exasperation at her son’s seemingly far-fetched but true claims someone is trying to kill him, Landis’ and her killer comic timing prove North highlights during her brief appearances, making one wish for a follow-up film featuring Roger going South by Southwest with mother in tow. Martin Landau, in one of his key early roles, utilizes an icy blue-eyed gaze to great effect as Leonard, Vandamm’s ultra-loyal key henchman, artfully suggesting just how deep Leonard’s affection for his boss might go, during a period wherein the Production Code frowned on any hint of homosexuality on screen. Hitchcock regular Leo G. Carroll once again lends his urbane presence as a contact aiding Roger as he tries to figure out which way is up as he traverses throughout the film’s title. In other roles, Les Tremayne and his rich vocal tones are perfectly cast as the auctioneer perplexed by Roger’s unusual bidding technique, Josephine Hutchinson makes a strong, eerie impression early on as the duplicitous “Mrs. Townsend” and several other familiar character actors, including Edward Binns, Philip Ober, Edeward Platt, Maudie Prickett and Adam Williams also rate notice in small roles.

Upon its release in July of 1959, North by Northwest indeed proved to be quintessential summertime fare for patrons eager to take in Hitchcock’s latest tension-addled adventure, but one blessed with a light touch. At the box-office, the movie earned a hefty $5,250,000 in initial rentals (according to Variety), placing it among the top ten hits of the year. Critically the film also found favor, with many praising it as one of Hitchcock’s most ingenious and entertaining offerings, helping North to place on both The New York Times and the National Board of Review lists of the year’s top ten movies, while Hitchcock and Lehman also were mentioned by the Director’s and Writer’s Guild branches, respectively. At the Oscars, North would garner Lehman one of the more deserved nominations for Best Original Screenplay, along with nods for Best Art Direction and Tomasini’s editing, with Grant, alas, once again being overlook for one of his most indelible performances and Hitchcock also missing out on a warranted place among the top five. Time has only increased the appraisal of and public adoration for the film, with North growing a strong fanbase via television showings and various physical media releases, including a new 4K release featuring a pristine print of the movie. Those interested in seeing one of Hitchcock’s liveliest diversions featuring Grant at his suave best will find an irresistible venture awaits them with a journey North by Northwest.

And a fond farewell to Richard Chamberlain, who passed away March 29^th at age 90. Although the handsome, skillful and serene actor built a nice big screen filmography over the course of his esteemed career, including Petulia, The Three (and Four) Musketeers, The Towering Inferno (in a nice against-type turn as a villain) and The Last Wave, it was in television that Chamberlain sealed his superstardom, first during his 1961-66 run as heartthrob Dr. Kildare, with his fame carrying over to a top ten hit on the Billboard charts via his rendition of the show’s theme song, then a huge career boost in the 1980s as the “King of the Mini-Series” with the invent of Shõgun and an even bigger blockbuster, 1983's The Thorn Birds, both of which brough him Golden Globe awards and Emmy nominations. Chamberlain would continue in films and t.v., ending his television endeavors on a high note in 2017 via David Lynch’s Twin Peaks update. With his 2003 autobiography, Chamberlain also came out, in doing so exhibiting the same class, charm and intelligence that were integral aspects of his signature roles. Rest in peace to a fine talent, Richard Chamberlain.

Betty Hutton and Eddie Bracken Ascend in Preston Sturges' Miracle

 

Possibly the 1940’s wildest, sauciest and most inventive comedy, ace writer-director Preston Sturges’ uninhibited The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek provides a riotous ride for viewers during its 99 minutes, while artfully dodging Hays Code edicts throughout. Concerning the exploits of Trudy Kockenlocker, a lively young woman who sends the boys off to WWII with flair but later regrets her avidness, as she can’t remember who she might have married during an eventful night on the town, Sturges concocts an original screenplay that remains surprising and bold eighty years later. A top cast, led by Betty Hutton as Trudy, Eddie Bracken as her nervously nebbish suitor Norville, William Demarest as continually perplexed father, Diana Lynn as one of cinema’s sagest and snappiest little sisters, and a slew of Sturges regulars, dive into their roles with aplomb, skill and great comic dexterity, aiding in making this 1944 classic one of the era’s most enjoyable and memorable films.

At the height of his powers after a string of hits, the multi-talented Sturges’ creative juices were in full flow while devising Miracle in late 1942-early 1943 (the film’s release was delayed about a year). A true renaissance man after a fascinating childhood which included traveling with Isadora Duncan’s dance troupe, Sturges dabbled as an inventor and in the U.S. Army among other interests before starting his successful career as a writer for stage and films, breaking through with 1929’s Strictly Dishonorable on Broadway and as a writer-for-hire in movies and, starting with 1933’s The Power and the Glory, creating solo screenplays, with The Good Fairy, Easy Living and Remember the Night among his best script. Looking to gain more control of his work, starting in 1940 Sturges entered a golden period as writer/director at Paramount Studios with The Great McGinty, which brought him an Oscar for Original Screenplay, followed by (in short order) classics such as The Lady Eve, Sullivans Travels and The Palm Beach Story prior to helming Miracle. Clearly understanding his craft, it’s been stated Sturges would have to stuff a handkerchief in his mouth during takes to stifle his laughter, and his skill in setting up scenes for maximum hilarity is in full evidence in Miracle, with slapstick sequences and deft twists in the plot keeping the story moving in a consistently mesmerizing and amusing manner. Sturges would follow up Miracle with another classic WWII-themed comedy in 1944, Hail the Conquering Hero, before his fortunes onscreen would take a drastic downturn, with 1948’s Unfaithfully Yours, a flop in its day but now largely considered among Sturges’ best work, a late-career highlight for one of the cinema’s the most imposing talents.

The irrepressible Betty Hutton, a recent Paramount contract player after achieving success on Broadway, found her ticket to top stardom as the livewire-ish Trudy. Often explosive onscreen to the delight of many and regret of some, the buoyant Hutton’s talents prove an ideal fit for the free-spirited, extroverted and jovial Trudy. Working in terrific tandem with Sturges, Hutton reigns in her expansive emoting style enough to find a believable emotional balance in the character, illustrating both Trudy’s gregarious attitude while whooping it up with the G.I.’s while also adding dramatic complexity to the heroine when faced with conflict before and after her night of frivolity, managing to keep Trudy rooted in Sturges’ realm of boisterous comedy throughout. It’s a rich, entertaining portrayal that shows how appealing and effective Hutton could be onscreen with the right material and direction. Hutton would go on to resounding success during the next ten years, highlighted by her moving, vibrant work in the smash 1950 film adaptation of Annie Get Your Gun and a lead role in 1952’s Nest Picture Oscar winner, The Greatest Show on Earth, in addition to a string of 1940’s pop hits as a star Capital Records’ recording artist, including a #1 hit, “Doctor, Lawyer and Indian Chief.” However, after the blockbuster success of Greatest Show and starring in a Blossom Seeley biopic, Somebody Loves Me, the temperamental Hutton had a falling out with Paramount and quickly found her fortunes ebbing. Several comeback attempts reaped scant results in regard to rebuilding her career, but shortly before her death she gave a touching interview with Robert Osborne on TCM whereupon she reflected on her life (including an admirable, successful return to college during her later years) and amazing career.

Eddie Bracken was also on a sharp rise career-wise in 1944. As the earnest, nervous Norval Jone, who bears a lifelong endearment towards Trudy and proves his devotion in unorthodox ways, often to uproarious effect, Bracken holds the screen with energetic comic brio as Norval chaotically attempts to handle a series of mishaps with an increasingly jittery demeanor. He teams perfectly with Hutton in some of these scenes, with the dynamic duo creating a level of vibrancy rarely seen on the screen. With one of the greatest onscreen one-two punches ever in a single year, Bracken would follow-up Miracle with possible even more impactful work as a similarly hapless but identifiable and humane protagonist in Sturges’ supreme Conquering Hero follow-up. After this incredible year, Bracken would work in films and television to lesser effect, with a welcome late-career return to the spotlight alongside the Griswolds near the end of 1983’s hit National Lampoon’s Vacation.

Diane Lynn, after gaining much attention as the precocious teenage sidekick to Ginger Rogers in 1942’s The Major and the Minor, scores even more resoundingly in her distinct mature-beyond-her-years mode as Emmy, Trudy’s, wise-cracking, ultra-sage sister, who offers her befuddled sibling pertinent advice regarding her predicament, while trading barbs with her constantly exasperated father. As Constable Kockenlocker, Sturges’ regular William Demarest has perhaps his finest screen role, emphasizing both the Constable’s frequently irascible state, and his more caring, protective nature towards his daughters (Demarest would also score heavily opposite Bracken in Conquering Hero). Other key players, including several from Sturges’ “stock company,” include Porter Hall, Al Bridge, Emory Parrell, Esther Howard, Almira Sessions and, zestfully reprising their roles from McGinty to open Miracle and set the tone for the madcap antics to come, Brian Donlevy and Akim Tamiroff.

An outstanding success upon release in February of 1944, The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek became one of Paramount’s leading money makers for the year, as well as scoring with awed critics who marveled at the latest example of Sturges’ mastery with the comedy genre. The film would go on to place among the top ten films of the year on both The New York Times and The National Board of Review lists, with the Board also singling out Hutton among the best actors of the year. At the Oscars, in a rare occurrence Sturges found himself cited twice in the Original Screenplay category, for both Miracle and Conquering Hero. Time has validated the movie’s place among Sturges’ greatest work (and therefore among the best comedies ever), with its position at #54 on the AFI’s 100 Years. . .100 Laughs list in 2000 and inclusion on the 2001 National Film Registry preservation list. Viewers searching for one of the zaniest, cleverest film classics will have an easy time rolling along with this true cinematic Miracle.

William Wyler Cinematically Rises with the Incisive Dodsworth

 

                In an era overseen by the almighty Production Code, wherein few major studio films were given the chance to address adult themes in direct fashion, Samuel Goldwyn’s thought-provoking 1936 production of Dodsworth, a class adaptation of the Sidney Howard play (with screenplay by Howard, based on the Sinclair Lewis 1929 novel), does a remarkably straightforward job of depicting the middle-age marital woes and infidelities of an affluent couple. Centered around the titular characters of Sam and Fran Dodsworth and the complications that arise as down-to-earth business magnate Sam retires and seeks to travel the world with the more flighty and sexually adventurous Fran, the absorbing drama examines their taut relationship and interactions with others who enter their world in a frank, arresting manner. Helmed by William Wyler at his most inspired and featuring an established cast doing top-flight work across the board, Dodsworth is enacted and lensed with a skill and perceptiveness that allows the movie to endure as an honest, inciteful portrayal of marriage (and lives) at a crossroads.

In a banner year that witnessed his rise to the top of the Hollywood directional pack with his helming of the stellar These Three, Come and Get it and Dodsworth, William Wyler demonstrated his gifts as a director of rare discernment, specifically in his talent for working with actors to gain complex, sensitive performances. This trait serves him particularly well in Dodsworth, as the story’s characters, particularly title character and his wife, possess multi-faceted personas that need careful handling by both director and his stars to bring the roles off with believable clarity. Wyler, showing an attention-to-detail and subtleness that were hallmarks of his filmography, enables his cast to give deft shadings to their telling portrayals resonating with truth. Both Wyler and screenwriter Howard clearly trust audiences to form their own opinions while interpreting the story’s themes and actions of the characters, granting an intelligence to the depictions on view that help lend a modern tone to the film nearly ninety years after its release. Following Dodsworth, Wyler would reap one of the most notable runs in films, with a record twelve Academy Award nominations for Best Director and three wins, building a roster that includes such classics as Wuthering Heights, The Letter, The Best Years of Our Lives, The Heiress, Roman Holiday and Ben Hur, among many others.

Walter Huston, sublimely recreating his Broadway triumph as Sam Dodsworth, gives a tour de force performance that captures every mood of the complicated tycoon, from his boyish enthusiasm over the simple pleasures in life, such as seeing the lighthouse rays from afar while on ship, to his tough demeanor when confronting Fran over her elitist and reckless behavior, to his forlornness over the possibility of a life without Fran. Huston plays a range of emotions with earnestness and imposing skill, from lighter moments wherein Sam shows excitement over setting out to discover new horizons, people and business opportunities, to deeply felt heartbreak Sam encounters when unexpected hindrances cause rifts in his marriage. Huston illustrates both the good fortunes and plights of a thoroughly decent man with moving empathy, causing a viewer to root for the noble, deserving Dodsworth to achieve a fulfilling life, with or without Fran. With this major screen accomplishment, Huston would become one of the most highly acclaimed and sought-after actors in film until his death in 1950, with four Oscar nominations, including a win for his unforgettable work as the sage prospector in The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, directed by his son John.

Ruth Chatterton, in her most memorable role after previously triumphing on stage, then on screen as a leading star of the early Talkies period, with Oscar nominations for Madame X and Sarah and Son, also offers a masterful portrait as the coquettish, restless and pretentious Mrs. Dodsworth, who’s terrified of aging and appears willing to do everything she can to escape a life of small-town domesticated bliss with Sam in favor of adopting a frivolous, jet set lifestyle. It’s a tricky, highly unsympathetic role, but Chatterton clearly understands the many conflicting emotions driving Fran, vividly illustrating such character aspects as her love for and petulance towards Sam, an ever-burgeoning need for grasping the passion she’s missed, and her guilt for diving into a cosmopolitan lifestyle at Sam’s expense. Chatterton admirably holds nothing back in vividly delineating the egocentric Fran’s often selfish mindset, as she demonstrates her unwillingness to compromise her lofty attitude and fickle behavior to work with Sam on their future. She also exhibits Fran’s fears about losing her youth with a deft forthrightness that at least allows the audience to understand some of the insecurities behind her maddeningly erratic behavior. Following her indelible work as Fran, Chatterton’s career onscreen would abruptly end in 1938 after just two more movies, before she would move on to become a novelist, while also occasionally making appearances on television, including recreating her signature work as Fran in 1950 on Prudential Family Playhouse.

Mary Astor witnessed an important turning point in her career with her mature, insightful work as Edith Cortright, a traveling socialite who takes an interest in Sam. Exuding grace, dignity and a maturity well beyond her years, but suitable for the worldly-wise character, Astor creates in Edith a figure of great warmth and strength, in direct contrast to the self-centered, insecure Fran. Her calm, sage and compassionate demeanor is transfixing to watch, establishing Edith as the true heroine of the film from her first appearance. The simple economy found in Astor’s straightforward playing also result in one of the movie’s key exchanges, as Edith departs a dinner party with the Dodsworths and, encountering Fran preparing for a transgression with a lothario, throws a knowing and helpful “Don’t” Fran’s way as she exits. The timing of Dodsworth was fortuitous, as the glowing reviews for Astor immediately followed a scandalous custody battle between Astor and her ex-husband, and proved her onscreen popularity, which had started in the silent era during her teen years, was undiminished, leading to a big upswing in the quality of movies Astor was offered thereafter, with subsequent years bringing such sterling entertainments as The Hurricane, Midnight, The Palm Beach Story, Meet Me in St. Louis, a fitting swansong in 1964 via Hush. . .Hush, Sweet Charlotte and her 1941 career peak, with her pitch-perfect work as one of Noir’s earliest and most duplicitous femme fatales in The Maltese Falcon and an Oscar for going toe-to-toe with Bette Davis in The Great Lie.

As Fran’s chief paramour, Paul Lukas is casually urbane while putting the moves on a willing Fran in direct fashion. As Fran’s first possible Casanova on board the Europe-bound voyage, the young David Niven is also cool and collected, making the most of a great moment wherein he tells Fran exactly what he thinks of her coy behavior. Gregory Gaye nicely illustrates a more caring nature as Kurt Von Obersdorf, yet another on Fran’s list of handsome prospects, while as Kurt’s sage, domineering mother, the revered stage star and acting teacher Maria Ouspenskaya makes a forceful screen debut, capturing the audience’s complete attention with her steely glaze and regal air as she sums up Fran’s makeup in a brief, all-knowing manner. Spring Byington also scores as a sympathetic friend of Sam’s who lends him an ear at a critical juncture, while ingenue Kathryn Marlowe adds the appropriate freshness to her role as the Dodsworth’s daughter, Emily. Finally, in his film debut as Emily’s well-meaning husband Harry, John Payne is boyishly charming and so gorgeous that the top career he soon obtained at 20^th Century Fox and beyond as a prime leading man seems inevitable, based on his short but stunning Dodsworth appearance.

                Upon release in September of 1936, Dodsworth received an enthusiast reception from both general moviegoers and the critical sector, with the film placing among the top hits of 1936/37 (according to Variety) while gaining abundant praise for its savvy study of adult relationships. Among hosannas, the film place on the New York Times Ten Best list for the year, and Huston won a well-merited Best Actor prize from the New York Film Critics. At the Academy Awards, Dodsworth reaped seven nominations, including ones for Best Picture, Director, Actor, Supporting Actress (Ouspenskaya, setting the standard for one-scene wonders at the Oscars), Screenplay (but alas, nothing for Chatterton or Astor) and a win for Best Art Direction, to gain one of the most impressive dramas from classic Hollywood its rightful status as an Academy Award-winning film. More recent honors include placement on the National Film Registry’s 1990 list, and no less than the late, esteemed TCM host Robert Osborne selecting the movie as his all-time favorite. Film buffs looking for a classic that deals with grown-up issues without pretense or pandering should delve into following the Dodsworths as they traverse through parts unknown, both geographically and in a more personal, internal manner, in the process reassessing their own purpose and desires for an enticing and thought-provoking watch.