George Stevens Crafts a 1956 Epic of Giant Proportions

                Standing out among the decade’s most engrossing and entertaining dramatically-inclined  screen offerings, director George Stevens’ sprawling Giant, based on Edna Ferber’s 1952 bestseller, manages to keep audiences riveted throughout its ample 201 minutes, during a cinematic year wherein lengthy runtimes proved to be something of a norm, with Giant vying for moviegoers’ attention alongside the imposing likes of Around the World in Eight Days, The Ten Commandments, The King and I and War and Peace, abet through a more modern 20^th century storyline. In detailing the lives of a Texas ranching family, the Benedicts, and a wayward associate, Jett Rink, over several decades, Stevens, gifted with a strong storyline via the solid adaptation by Fred Guiol and Ivan Moffat, is allowed to artfully delve into themes involving wealth, power and prejudices of various ilk, and how these dynamics come into play as conflicts aplenty arise throughout the film. A powerful Dimitri Tiomkin score with an appropriate grandiose feel and a top-tier cast ably help create the proper milieu for the action, with a trio of magnetic young stars, Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor and James Dean, each witnessing career milestones via Giant and, for Dean, a fitting final cinematic tribute to his singular thespian talents.

As proved to be the case with his later-career, serious offerings, George Stevens took abundant care in piecing together the film, serving as a co-producer (with Henry Ginsberg) and, as well as handling directional chores, working closely in pre- and post-production to endure the ambitious project would connect on every level with moviegoers. Starting his film career as in teen in the early 1920s working for Hal Roach, Stevens would thrive in the thirties and forties directing often-lighter fare, such as 1935’s Alice Adams, featuring one of Katharine Hepburn’s best performances, the classic Astaire/Rogers musical Swing Time, the raucous, irreverent 1939 comic adventure Gunga Din, and the endearing WWII comedy The More the Merrier, which gained Stevens his first Best Director Oscar nomination. Serving as a lieutenant colonel and documentary filmmaker during the war, including lensing concentration camps that had a profound effect on Stevens, led to a postwar career shift to more serious material, with the heartwarming 1948 I Remember Mama followed by his first Best Director Academy Award for A Place in the Sun, his stark-yet-sometimes-glamorous 1951 update of Theodore Dreisler’s An American Tragedy. After another major critical and box-office hit with the 1953 Western Shane, Stevens stayed the Western-tinged course with Giant, although on a much grander scale. At times the film might come across as a bit heavy-handled as main points are driven home in a manner that suggests Stevens could place more trust in the audience’s intelligence to understand the themes, his love for the project and the film medium in general are never in doubt, and one has to admire how all the effort Stevens put into the work paid off onscreen. After this peak, Stevens would gain a final success in the decade via 1959’s The Diary of Anne Frank, before taking on the massive The Greatest Story Ever Told with diminishing returns, then ending his impressive career with 1970’s The Only Game in Town.

For top-billed Elizabeth Taylor, Giant would mark a critical turning point in her path to mega-stardom as one of filmdom’s top box-office attractions and most highly praised actors. Gaining fame at twelve via impeccable work in 1944’s National Velvet, as an MGM contract player Taylor’s output would prove hit-and-miss, with her blossoming ultra-beauty shown to Technicolor perfection in 1948’s A Date with Judy, impressive comic flair as Amy in 1949’s Little Women, and charming work in Father of the Bride standing out. Teaming with Stevens on loan-out to Paramount for Sun brought Taylor increased attention as a young screen talent of considerable merit, and the warmth and sensitivity she brings to the movie, along with imposing romantic chemistry with the equaling-alluring and moving Montgomery Clift, endures as one of her best efforts. After this highlight, Taylor toiled for a few years in standard MGM fare such as The Girl Who Had Everything and Rhapsody, with the big-scale Ivanhoe serving as Taylor’s most widely seen work during this time, before another loan-out, again helmed by Stevens, gained Taylor the kind of meaty role in a class production that signaled a welcome upturn in her career fortunes. Stepping into the lead role of Leslie Benedict after Grace Kelly opted for Monaco, Taylor proved to have the ideal temperament to convey the headstrong, forward-thinking and humorous aspects of Leslie’s persona, as well as showing a maturity and intelligence that helped keep the spirited character believable over the narrative’s several decades, from Leslie meeting and falling for the handsome, stoic Bick Benedict, to the many personal trials Leslie faces as she attempts to adapt to Bick’s way of life at Reata, the Benedict’s cattle ranch, and raise a family with him. With Taylor in the role, it’s clear Leslie is a woman of considerable strength and ethics, who stands up to chauvinism and bias with force and determination in some of the film’s most intriguing passages. Following Giant, Taylor would quickly reach the top of the Hollywood peak, with four consecutive Best Actress Oscar nominations (and a win for 1960’s BUtterfield 8), ranking as the #1 box-office attraction of 1961, and the recording-breaking $1,000,000 payday for Cleopatra just some of her achievements (with Oscar #2 still to come) during her Golden Period following Giant.

Rock Hudson also witnessed a major career uptick due to his stellar work in Giant. Starting as a Universal-International contract player with a debut in 1948’s Fighter Squadron, the untrained but strapping and incredibly photogenic Hudson earnestly honed his craft and slowly worked his way up to leading man status at the studio via Winchester ’73, Bend of the River, the colorful and fun The Golden Blade and, with frequent director Douglas Sirk guiding him, Hudson’s claim to major stardom via 1954’s hit Magnificent Obsession. Beating out others, including William Holden, for the plum role of Jordan “Bick” Benedict, Hudson utilized his low-key, thoughtful acting style and heroic countenance to convincingly portray Bick’s resolute, firm nature while also suggesting the character’s decency and goodness as Bick evolves over the years into a more compassionate and understanding man, leading to possibly the film’s most iconic scene, with Bick taking on a bigoted, physically imposing café worker as the strains of “The Yellow Rose of Texas” set the proper tone. After this early-career triumph, Hudson would cement his position as Hollywood’s top male draw with appropriately somber work in another classic drama with Texas flavor, Sirk’s Written on the Wind, before landing as the #1 box-office draw for 1957. A switch to comedy in 1959’s smash Pillow Talk opposite ideal costar Doris Day again placed him at #1 for the year, and Hudson would alternate comedies and dramas into the 1960s with fine results, until ironically losing his ranking as one of the premier male stars with possibly his best dramatic performance in the eerie 1966 cult classic Seconds. The 1970s brought renewed success on television’s McMillian & Wife, then Hudson found enjoyment working in the theater between t.v. and films assignments, before passing away of AIDS at age 59 in 1985, in the process serving as a face for bringing the disease to the forefront for many Americans, and leading to longtime friend Elizabeth Taylor working hard to raise funds for a cure, while his best onscreen output would endure as a reminder of how persuasive Hudson could be in his signature roles.

In his last role, as introverted outsider Jett Rink, James Dean brings a sense of excitement, unpredictability and an invaluable comic verve to the proceedings in a magnetic, highly entertaining performance. Slyly adding playfulness, spontaneity and a refreshing individuality to Jett, Dean makes it difficult for a viewer to focus on anything or anyone else as he emotes front-and-center offering a colorful, completely riveting take on the charismatic antihero. Starting in film with fleeting appearances in 1951’s Fixed Bayonets (his debut), then ringside in the Dean Martin/Jerry Lewis hit Sailor Beware and making a “Who is that?” type of cameo at a soda fountain in Sirk’s Has Anybody Seen My Gal? starring Piper Laurie and Hudson, Dean would first gain attention with several roles on live television and, while attending the Actor’s Studio, Broadway fame via See the Jaguar and 1954’s The Immoralist. In his first leading film role as the troubled, multi-complex and fascinating Cal Trask in 1955’s East of Eden, his only major screen work released during his lifetime, Dean brought great torment and conviction to his scenes, allowing audiences to see naked emotionalism in a manner seldom witnessed onscreen, before his legend was secured with equally compelling and intense work as the misunderstand teen Jim Stark in Rebel Without a Cause, released just after his untimely death on September 30, 1955 to avid audience response, especially from young viewers who strongly identified with the iconic Dean and the Generation Gap Jim encounters in the narrative. With Giant, Dean would impressively shift gears to offer a skillful, carefully delineated take on Jett that displayed the craftsmanship of a thespian and character actor of the highest order, whether Dean is illustrating the demure manner in which Jett outwits Bick and his cronies in regards to Rink’s inherited property, being bashfully endearing during a meeting with Leslie or, in his latter scenes, vividly showing the pitiful Jett’s drunken descent. Although Dean’s reign as the most gifted young dramatic male star in films was sadly brief, fans can be grateful he was able to complete his filmography standing out among a high-powered cast in perhaps his most inventive, daring performance in one of the 1950s most impactful movies.

As Dean’s career closed, his Actors Studio colleague Carroll Baker witnessed one of the more incredible starts as a blossoming screen performer during 1956.  Born in 1931, Baker made her entry into movies via a bit in 1953’s Easy to Love, then would toil in television and on the Broadway stage before landing the top ingenue role as Luz Benedict II, Leslie and Bick’s alluring, knowing daughter, whose attraction to Rink causes family concern. Baker particularly shines in several scenes with Dean, as the two uniquely gifted talents create sparks while lending a modern thespian vibe to their playing. Immediately following Giant, Baker would cause a much bigger stir with her creative, funny, and ultra-sensual work as the title role in one of the decade’s most controversial films, Baby Doll, giving perhaps the performance of her career and gaining a Best Actress Oscar nomination in the process. Following this hard-to-match year, Baker would alternate between top studio productions (The Big Country, How the West Was Won) and intriguing smaller-scale offerings (Something Wild) before a mid-1960s career surge after her sexy, colorful depiction of Rina Marlowe in another huge hit, The Carpetbaggers. Following her Hollywood heyday, Baker would turn to making semi-erotic offerings overseas, such as the hard-to-forget 1968 title The Sweet Body of Deborah, before moving in character roles in later years, often seen on television while also making her presence felt on the big screen in 1977’s Andy Warhol’s Bad, Star 80, moving opposite Jack Nicholson in Ironweed and in the 1997 hit The Game.

Chief among the others standing out in the A-list cast apropos for Steven’s monumental vision is Mercedes McCambridge, who vividly holds the screen with steely resolve and her famously high-pitched, sinister vocal prowess as Luz, Bick’s tough sister leery of Leslie’s sudden entrance into the Benedict household. Dennis Hopper, at the start of his fascinating cinematic career, is properly sensitive as Leslie and Bick’s son Jordan, and has the added bonus of possessing a beatific countenance beyond measure even Elizabeth Taylor might envy. Earl Holliman, having a terrific year with Giant, Forbidden Planet and his awesomely endearing, Golden Globe winning work in The Rainmaker to his credit, is likable to the nth degree as Bob Dace, husband to the Benedict’s eldest daughter, Judy Benedict (played by Fran Bennett). Chill Willis fits the role of Bick’s Uncle Bawley as to the manner born, and gets one of the more memorable lines to Bick concerning Jett’s sudden change in fortunes. Sal Mineo makes a brief but memorable appearance as Angel, a young enlistee born and raised around the Reata Ranch, while former 1930’s child star Jane Withers makes her most significant later career big screen appearance as Vashti, a neighbor of the Benedicts. Other well-known names with limited screentime include the handsome up-and-coming Rod Taylor, the lovely Elsa Cárdenas as Jordan’s wife, Judith Evelyn and Paul Fix as Leslie’s parents, Sheb Wooley, after his appearance in “High Noon” but before his greatest fame penning and singing the #1 1958 hit “The Purple People Eater,” Monte Hale, Alexander Scourby and, in a bit, Barbara Barrie.

            With a Grauman's Chinese Theater premiere in October 1956, Giant met with rave review and massive audience turnout, amassing initial box-office rental returns of $14,000,000 and leading to the Warner Bros. release placing among the top ten hits of the decade, according to Variety. During awards season, Giant was a frontrunner for accolades, with Stevens picking up the Best Director prize from the Screen Directors Guild and Guiol and Moffat nominees at the Writers Guild for Best Written Drama, while both Time magazine and The New York Times granted the movie a place on their Top Ten lists. After nominations for Best Drama and Director at the Golden Globes (but oddly no acting nominations) Giant would fare considerably better come Academy Awards time, with ten nominations in total (this time with acting nods for Hudson, Dean (posthumously- one wonders if, released today, Warners would opt to place Dean in the Supporting Actor field, instead of vying with Hudson for Best Actor, thereby vastly increasing Dean’s chances for a deserved win) and McCambridge) and, in an extremely competitive year given all those epics, a sole Oscar win for Best Director. Over the decades, Giant has maintained its status as a touchstone film of the 1950s, eventually making the National Film Registry’s 2005 list of inductees. With a rich, distinctive narrative and colorful characters put over with elan by a gifted cast, all overseen by a director working on all cylinders to ensure his film merits lasting appeal for both classic movie lovers and anyone interested in catching a screen drama of the highest caliber, Giant is expansive, must-see cinema. 

            And a fond farewell to Barbara Barrie, who passed away at age 95 on October 28th. Born in Chicago, Barrie was reared in Corpus Christi, Texas, and earned a BFA from the University of Texas- Austin, before moving to New York to hone her acting skills in off-Broadway and regional theater and on television. After her film debut in Giant, Barrie went on to a varied, esteemed career, with highlights including a Cannes Best Actress award for moving work in 1964’s noteworthy interracial drama One Potato, Two Potato, Tony-nominated work on Broadway in 1970’s Company among her many stage credits, an Oscar nomination for 1979’s Breaking Away followed by a smash hit, Private Benjamin and decades of television work, including Barney Miller, Suddenly Susan and Emmy nods for reprising her Breaking Away role and as a guest star on Law and Order. R.I.P. to a reliable pro who managed to bring her unique flair and sensibility to each character, Barbara Barrie. 

A Fond Farewell to a Lovely, Serene Screen Icon, Eva Marie Saint

                One of the legendary leading ladies of the Silver Screen, the talented and beautiful Eva Marie Saint passed away on October 6^th at age 102. A native of New Jersey, Saint developed an interest in acting early on and, after college, worked on honing her craft via early live television in the late 1940s, gaining her first exposure in Life magazine, who profiled her efforts as a young aspiring actress in New York. Greater success came with a 1953 live televised appearance opposite Lilliah Gish in The Trip to Bountiful, which led to a brief Broadway production of the play that gained Saint considerable praise. Following this, Saint achieved one of filmdom’s most impressive debuts with her intelligent, persuasive work opposite Marlon Brando in one of the decade’s most esteemed movies, 1954’s On the Waterfront, which immediately established Saint as an actor gifted with intuitive skill on camera, while also winning Saint her Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress.

                Following this triumph, Saint displayed a knack for carefully balancing quality projects while raising a family with husband Jeffrey Hayden, with whom Saint shared one of the most successful marriages, from 1951 until Hayden’s death in 2016. In 1955 she appeared on television opposite Paul Newman and Frank Sinatra (introducing “Love and Marriage”) in a musical version of “Our Town,” then the next year showed comic flair costarring with Bob Hope in one of his best and most underrated vehicles, That Certain Feeling. 1957 proved to be a benchmark year in films for Saint, with fine work in MGM’s grand-scale Raintree Country with Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift, and award-worthy dramatic work in the screen adaptation of the hit Broadway drama A Hatful of Rain. Saint would then close out the decade with her most famous role this side of Waterfront as Eve Kendall, taking her place alongside other “Hitchcock Blondes” of note in one of the Master of Suspense’s most entertaining diversions, North by Northwest, wherein she shared several seductive interludes with Cary Grant at his late-career peak.

                After the major success of Northwest, Saint’s run of top-profile movies continued in the 1960s, starting with Otto Preminger’s all-star epic Exodus and including other major hits such as The Sandpiper, The Russians Are Coming, The Russians are Coming and Grand Prix, while Saint offered compelling performances in smaller-scale works such as 1962’s fascinating All Fall Down, with Saint at her most vulnerable and emotionally compelling, and the intriguing thriller 36 Hours opposite James Garner. Later quality roles came with incisive work in 1970’s Loving and 1986’s Nothing in Common opposite Jackie Gleason and Tom Hanks, as well as an Emmy win for 1990’s People Like Us, and via a return to the stage starting in the early 1970’s, which afforded Saint the opportunity to take on choice parts in top fare such as the The Country Girl and Death of a Salesman. Saint would make her final impact in a large-scale movie as Martha Kent in 2006’s Superman Returns before her touching appearance in her final film, 2014’s Winter’s Tale.

                As a Santa Monica local, Saint would frequently appear at showings of her films in her later years, allowing the author to see the Hollywood legend graciously offering insightful, funny and absorbing stories concerning her life and career on several occasions, wherein Ms. Saint always came across as friendly, down-to-earth and relatable to the enthralled audiences. I was able to film a great 2010 interview at a showing of North by Northwest here, and afterwards corresponded a couple of times with her, gaining autographed movie stills on one occasion, and a nice note from Ms. Saint later after I wrote to her concerning a screening of That Certain Feeling that she attended (the movie went over great with the engaged audience). I also created a tribute video to her that can be viewed here. A gifted thespian of class and distinction, Ms. Saint’s superb work on screen will endure as long as movies do- R.I.P. to a true cinema legend, Eva Marie Saint.

Sissy Spacek Brings Supernatural Conviction to De Palma's Astonishing Carrie

 

               Ranking high on lists of top horror and high school movies, 1976’s Carrie offered major career boosts to director Brian De Palma and a perfectly selected cast giving individual, indelible performances that ring true 50 years on. Based on Stephen King’s landmark 1974 debut novel, the inventive, incisive and at times slyly amusing screenplay by Lawrence D. Cohen outlines the fascinating story of outcast teen Carrie White, who catches few breaks in life at school or home, wherein her domineering, religious fanatic mother Maragret rules with an imposing force that would make Joan Crawford at her (alleged) worst blush. How Carrie evolves throughout a tight 98-minute runtime as the introverted heroine discovers telekinesis gifts keeps an audience completely enthralled, with De Palma masterfully detailing each major plot point, including a “jump scare” sequence rarely matched, while guiding his terrific actors to deliver work that ranks among their best, including Sissy Spacek’s haunting interpretation of the title role and Piper Laurie, returning to films after 15 years, deftly adding layers of humor and sexiness to her colorful, emotionally-driven portrayal of the unhinged Margaret.

                Brian De Palma’s filmography gained hefty stature with the success of Carrie after he’d toiled for over a decade primarily in independent films as a writer, director and editor, including collaborations with Robert DeNiro at the outset of his career. 1973’s Sisters and the following year’s Phantom of the Paradise brought attention to De Palma, before Carrie brought him to the forefront among the most creative forces in American cinema. Although De Palma’s output, both pre (Obsession) and post Carrie (specifically 1980’s controversial hit Dressed to Kill), would face comparisons, both good and bad, to his most influential directorial forerunner, Alfred Hitchcock, with his singular take on King’s macabre story, the young director proved himself second-to-none in crafting a suspense-ladened movie mixing a consistently unsettling tone with a perverse sense of fun, all brought to life with a compelling artistic vision that captures a high school setting, including the innocence and hatefulness found therein among the teen set, as well as any film. Sequences such as the climatic prom set piece, which De Palma lends a dreamlike tone to, aided by Pino Donaggio’s eerily lush score, perfectly illustrating every emotion Carrie goes through as she experiences the eventful night’s highs and lows, or the deceptively serene opening scene shot in slo-mo through a steamy mist as girl’s cavort through their locker room before Carrie is introduced, leading to the first of many unnerving moments, offer proof how the confident, talented De Palma was fully prepared to bring all his filmmaking gifts to the screen, thrilling audiences in a manner rarely experienced. Following this achievement, De Palma would go on to an eclectic career featuring returns to the horror/suspense genre (Kill, Blow Out, Body Double) as well as scoring with mainstream fare such as The Untouchables and Mission: Impossible, while also tackling challenging projects such as Casualties of War and the fascinatingly woe begotten production of The Bonfire of the Vanities.

                Sissy Spacek also moved significantly up the Tinseltown ladder via Carrie, managing to bring both an ethereal, incandescent quality and a bizarre, “Creepy Carrie” aspect to her landmark work that places the viewer on the fragile wallflower’s side even as she demonstrates signs of ominous, otherworldly powers. Starting in films with 1972’s Prime Cut, Spacek would immediately score the following year with standout work in Terrence Malick’s tense crime thriller Badlands, setting her up nicely for a star breakthrough with Carrie. Spacek appears to intuitively understand how to carefully modulate each of the character’s diverse moods, ranging from heartbreaking shyness to terrifying vengefulness. Spacek never appears to lose belief of the central truths of the role in her sublime portrayal, regardless of how wild the circumstances surrounding the lost girl become. For example, the tour de force prom scene could not work as believably without Spacek’s sublime handling of the vast emotional arc Carrie is subjected to; similarly, she brings a fervent realism to highly dramatic scenes such as the film’s opening or during Carrie’s confrontations with Margaret, while also adding subtleties that help convey the generally quiet nature of the character. After Carrie, Spacek would receive further critical acclaim with on-target work in another key 1970’s film, Robert Altman’s 3 Women, before starting the 1980’s off with possible her screen peak winning an Oscar for her pitch-perfect interpretation of Loretta Lynn in Coal Miner’s Daughter, the smash hit film adaptation of Lynn’s autobiography. After a fruitful decade which brough Spacek three additional Oscar nominations, her screen output slowed considerably, before she made a major comeback with 2001’s In the Bedroom, which once again placed Spacek among the Best Actress contenders. Since then, Spacek has thrived in films and television with artful character work in offers such as 2011’s The Help, mostly recently showing up in 2025 on the big screen in 2025’s Die, My Love and in the Dying for Sex miniseries.

                Performing one of the more spectacular comebacks in films, Piper Laurie brings amazing skill, intensity and wit to her stunningly original work as one of the cinema’s most perplexing and riveting mothers. Born in 1932, Laurie gained a Universal Studios contract at the tender age of 17, leading to a 1950 film debut and years as a charming ingenue in escapist fare such as The Prince Who Was a Thief and The Golden Blade before turning to New York City to hone her acting skills. Her prodigious thespian talent was put on view thereafter, with incredibly moving dramatic work on television in the live television version of Days of Wine and Roses and in films via The Hustler demonstrating what Laurie could do with a meaty role. However, after her Oscar-nominated work in Hustler, Laurie stepped away from the camera to focus on her family, only returning to films when the opportunity to play Margaret White arose. Laurie has stated she thought of the role in comedic aspects, and she superbly blends lighter moments (her indelible reading of “Prom?” backed by lightening for example) into the stark material, as well as using her husky voice and unabashed appearance (that uninhibited hair!) to indicate the erotically-charged nature lurking beneath Maragret’s repressed exterior. Working in perfect sync with Spacek, they create unforgettable moments of profound impact depicting a Generation Chasm. Following Carrie, Laurie would grace the screen with more frequent appearances, in the process gaining an Oscar nomination for Children of a Lesser God, an Emmy for Promise and reaching a wide audience with Emmy-nominate work on Twin Peaks, before her final film work in 2018, followed by her passing in 2023 at age 91.

                A phenomenal group of supporting players, each coming through with expert, distinct and creative performances, aid in marking Carrie as one of filmdom’s definitive casts. As Chris, the chief mean girl on campus, Nancy Allen (similar to Laurie) also held the idea the role was comic in nature, and she manages to invest the part with a sense of lively fun while simultaneously making the alluring yet sneering prima donna an ultimate example of the villain you love to hate. As her hunky, horny and dim boyfriend Billy, John Travolta shows the star charisma and impressive comic and dramatic acting chops that would place him at the top of the Hollywood echelon the following year with Saturday Night Fever. Amy Irving holds the screen with a delicacy and quiet fortitude as Sue, the school’s nice girl wanting to help Carrie, while Willian Katt grants a beguiling good-natured down-to-earth quality to his role of Tommy, the handsome BMOC boyfriend of Sue also interested in Carrie’s plight. Betty Buckley is welcomingly both compassionate and tough as Miss Collins, the gym teacher protective of Carrie and willing to go toe-to-toe with Chris and her similarly unsympathetic ilk. Irving’s real-life mother, Priscilla Pointer, carries a wry knowingness to her brief part as Sue’s mother and adeptly shares the screen with Irving in one of the movie’s most unforgettable moments, while P.J. Soles and Edie McClurg also can be spotted in early roles before gaining greater career fame.

                Released in November of 1976, Carrie quickly found favor with critics who marveled at the accomplished, astounding manner in which De Palma and his formidable cast and crew brought off the fantastic and lurid tale with such conviction and power. Strong word-of-mouth caused audiences to turn out in droves, allowing Carrie to place among 1976’s major hits, amassing $15,000,000 in U.S./Canadian first-run rentals, according to Variety (side note: as a wee lad too small to see the film during its original run, the author can confirm the movie was the talk of playgrounds everywhere, with kids desperate to get a peek at this one-of-a-kind thriller). The film also scored impressively during awards season, with placement on Time magazine’s top ten movies and a Best Actress prize for Spacek from the National Society of Film Critics, and a Golden Globe nomination for Laurie in her comeback role. Rare for a horror movie, both Spacek and Laurie also gained Oscar nominations (for Best Actress and Supporting Actress, respectively) for their stunning teamwork in creating a mother/daughter duo unlike any other found in film. The passage of time only solidifies how correct the Academy was in citing their memorable portrayals, and how wayward, even in a strong movie year (All the President’s Men, Network, Rocky, etc.), they were in overlooking other key aspects of the singular film, including noms for De Palma, Cohen and Best Picture. The influence of Carrie has seen subpar remakes and even a musical take on the story, with none coming close to capturing the viewer’s imagination and admiration as in the alternately scary, funny and heartbreaking first and best screen adaptation of King’s unforgettable classic tale.

                  And a fond farewell to Tom Skerritt, who passed away on October 21^st at age 93. An Air Force veteran, Skerritt made his big screen debut in 1962 visa War Hunt, then would do much work in television during the decade (Combat!, Death Valley Days, Gunsmoke, etc.) before making an impact on the silver screen as one of the stars of 1970’s M*A*S*H. Following this significant breakthrough, Skerritt became a reliable presence in film as a frequently stable, down-to-earth leading man and character player, with memorable work in such top films as 1977’s The Turning Point (for which he won the National Board of Review’s Best Supporting Actor Award), Alien, Top Gun, Steel Magnolias, A River Runs Through It and Contact. Skerritt also remained a welcome, recognizable face in television, with a recurring role on Cheers and Emmy-winning work on Picket Fences two of his most high-profile offerings and continued to work up until a final role in 2025’s Broke. R.I.P. to Tom Skerritt, a great pro often acting as a calming, trustworthy onscreen identification point for audiences.

Ida Lupino Achieves Her Dramatic Peak The Hard Way

 

A bleak but exceptionally involving 1943 Warner Brothers’ drama, The Hard Way details the unorthodox rags-to-riches story of Helen Chernen and her kid sister Katie, who are witnessing their youth and opportunities passing as they toil in a dead-end town at the film’s outset. Vincent Sherman, a prime director for the studio entering a fruitful period of guiding Warner’s leading ladies (Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, Ann Sheridan, etc.) to top performances, shows a keen talent for maintaining a tense, compelling tone in an atmospheric show-biz milieu while bringing the incisive script by Daniel Fuchs and Peter Viertel (based on a story by producer Jerry Wald) to life onscreen, which finds Helen going to extreme measures to ensure Katie gets all the proper breaks in gaining stardom. Sherman, who started as an actor before his rewarding career behind the cameras, demonstrates great care in ensuring his top roster of players, led by Ida Lupino, Joan Leslie, Jack Carson and Dennis Morgan, are given opportunities to create portrayals of depth, honesty and complexity that rank among their best work while keeping the highly theatrical material in the realm of believability, helping the audience to become absorbed in an engrossing tale of ambition and its irrevocable impact on those near-and-dear relationships.     

                For Sherman, The Hard Way would provide an important turning point in his career at Warners. Born in 1906, Sherman started his acting career onstage in the 1920s before making a film debut opposite John Barrymore in Counsellor at Law, followed by several programmers before his switch to direction at Warners via 1939’s The Return of Doctor X. Several other features followed, including two 1942 hits starring Humphrey Bogart, All Through the Night and (taking over from John Huston) Across the Pacific just prior to his impressive work on Way. Sherman, aided by James Wong Howe’s mood-enhancing B&W cinematography, establishes a sense of foreboding unease, from the early scenes wherein Helen and Katie appear to be doomed to the poverty their small-town and Helen’s older, tired husband Sam offers, to later moments illustrating how Helen’s machinations cause plenty of discord among her, Katie and anyone else Helen comes in contact with. Sherman’s ace work with his cast may have been a primary factor in him landing choice assignments thereafter, following Way with a bigger 1943 hit, Old Acquaintance¸ starring Bette Davis and Miriam Hopkins, then leading Davis and Claude Rains to Oscar nominations for 1944’s Mr. Skeffington while also reteaming with Lupino for In Our Time and Pillow to Post before scoring additional success with noirish fare such as 1947’s Nora Prentiss starring Ann Sheridan and 1950’s The Damned Don’t Cry, his first of three with Joan Crawford. Sherman also would score in the 1950s with the Rita Hayworth/Glenn Ford Affair in Trinidad in 1952, then close out the decade with the entertaining melodrama The Young Philadelphians starring on-the-rise Paul Newman, before slowing down his output, with his last feature coming in 1967 via the international production of Cervantes. A lengthy retirement thereafter found Sherman living to the ripe age of 99 before his passing in 2006, long enough for him to record several invaluable audio commentaries for his key films, including his first as a director, Return of Doctor X.

                Ida Lupino is in her element as the hard-nosed but understandably determined Helen, adding rich shadings to the role that help an audience identify with her often-self-serving actions. Born in London in 1918 to showbiz parents, Lupino displayed an early knack for performing and made her film debut in 1931 via her father Stanley’s vehicle The Love Race before an early run of bad girl roles in British films led the fifteen-year-old Lupino to a Hollywood debut in 1934’s lively Search for Beauty. Proceeding through most of the decade in light entertainments such as Anything Goes, The Gay Desperado and Artists and Models, Lupino would witness a major career upswing in 1939 with riveting dramatic work in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and, specifically, The Light That Failed, wherein she showed her overpowering finesse for playing in unscrupulous mode as guttersnipe Bessie Broke, who gives Ronald Colman’s more altruistic artist a wealth of trouble, which Lupino depicts with relish while walking off with the picture. She solidified this great year and started her rewarding run at Warners with 1940’s They Drive by Night, again taking top acting honors in a stellar cast with excitingly emotional work as a selfish, nefarious vixen, Lana Carlsen, who becomes memorably unhinged in a courtroom scene wherein Lupino matches the theatrically driven work of Bette Davis in a similar role in Bordertown. Lupino would continue apace during this most fruitful period for her career as a leading lady with an edge, tough enough to stand alongside Humphery Bogart in High Sierra or Edward G. Robinson and John Garfield in The Sea Wolf and make her presence felt in equal measure to theirs, leading to possibly her most demanding role in The Hard Way.

Regarding her major assignment as Helen, as is normally the case in classic movies, just about any woman with ambitions is painted as a villain who must pay for her tough, focused efforts, but in Lupino’s hands much of what Helen does in her quest to guide her sister to fame and both of them to fortune makes sense, even if the decisions she makes with or without Katie’s knowledge may sometimes be ignoble in nature. Lupino does a great job illustrating Helen’s mindset and is fascinating to watch as she shows Helen’s reactions to others, allowing viewers to see, whether verbally or otherwise, Helen knows the consequences of her actions and isn’t necessarily happy about what she feels she has to do on the upward climb to success, in a manner more subtlety etched than in her previous bold portrayals of women or uncertain morals, allowing viewers to identify with Helen as a believable if flawed protagonist. After this career highlight, Lupino would continue as a top-billed star in titles such as Escape Me Never opposite Errol Flynn before making a wonderful impression in 1948’s noir classic Road House. At the end of the 1940s, Lupino would add substantially to her filmography and her place in film history by becoming a movie director of merit with thought-provoking dramas such as Outrage, The Hitch-Hiker and The Bigamist and much work helming television productions, while continuing to shine acting-wise in The Big Knife, While the City Sleeps and then a nice comeback after years off the screen in 1972’s Junior Bonner opposite Steve McQueen, before her final film appearance in 1978. Her reputation as top actor and pioneering female director of Hollywood Golden Age secure, Lupino would pass in 1995 at age 77.

                Starting in films at age eleven in 1936’s Camille, by the early 1940s Joan Leslie had established herself as perhaps the screen’s chief ingenue, with prominent roles in two massive hits, 1941’s Sergeant York and opposite James Cagney the following year in Yankee Doodle Dandy. Although efficient enough playing in an eager-to-please, perky manner whether acting, singing or dancing, Leslie found perhaps her best opportunity to shine onscreen with the complex role of Katie, displaying a more mature, involved acting style than in previous parts. Katie may present a more compassionate nature than Helen, but Leslie adeptly brings the character’s intriguing willingness to go along with her older sister’s ploys to the forefront at key moments, allowing the viewer to see Katie’s conflicting emotions as her career rises. Leslie seems committed to the role in admirable fashion, showing a performing skill and professionalism rare in a seventeen-year-old as Katie faces some hard lessons and decisions, both pre and post stardom. Leslie’s fine work in Way was followed by additional 1943 coups onscreen, as she costarred opposite no less than Fred Astaire in The Sky’s the Limit, as well as taking the female lead in two WWII all-star diversions, Thank Your Lucky Stars and another top 1940’s smash, This is the Army. After this banner year, Leslie would continue largely as one of Warner’s charming “good girl” go-tos via fare such as Rhapsody in Blue, Cinderella Jones and Janie gets Married, before leaving the studio to freelance with more erratic success, with 1956’s The Revolt of Mamie Stover marking Leslie’s final big screen appearance, followed by occasional guest roles on television in hits such as Charlie’s Angels and Murder, She Wrote before her passing in 2015 at age 90.

                As Albert Runkel, the lower-tier song-and-dance man who aids Katie’s entry into show business while romancing her, Jack Carson gives a performance of astounding tenderness and depth. An all-purpose contract player who started in films 1937 via a wealth of bit roles, popping up in classics such as Stage Door and Bringing Up Baby, then working his way up at Warners as an amiable second lead in top output such as The Strawberry Blonde and Gentleman Jim, The Hard Way would allow Carson his best chance to exhibit the prodigious dramatic talent that lie underneath his often happy-go-lucky exterior. With great sensitivity and skill, Carson illustrates Albert’s kind, decent and vulnerable persona with moving force, as the character struggles to find his place onstage and in Katie’s life, without ever overplaying the role. For example, in one unforgettable moment, Carson employs a quavering voice and unsettled disposition as a devasted Albert tries to act upbeat while congratulating Katie on a great career opportunity that will also tear them apart that clearly shows the caring, earnest Albert’s heartbreak. Carson would go on to a rewarding career for the next twenty years until his death in 1963, with roles in Midred Pierce, having Doris Day sing “It’s Magic” to him in her Romance on the High Seas screen debut, then maintaining a strong profile with solid dramatic work in films such as A Star is Born, The Tarnished Angels and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. However, it’s possible Carson never again played with such persuasion and complexity as he brings to the part of the sweet, well-meaning Albert Runkel.

                Dennis Morgan also makes a solid impression as Paul Collins, Albert’s sage, worldly-wise stage partner, who quickly reads how far Helen is willing to go to achieve prominence in the theatrical world for Katie and herself. Starting in films in 1929 as Stanley Morner, Morgan would famously appear in 1936’s The Great Ziegfeld as (dubbed by Allan Jones, even though Morgan had a fine singing voice) the crooner of “A Pretty Girl is Like a Melody” on a mammoth MGM set, then have a leading man breakthrough opposite Oscar-winning Ginger Rogers in 1940’s Kitty Foyle. As with Carson, his frequent costar at Warners during the 1940s, Morgan would regularly star in lighter musical and comedies, such as 1943’s The Desert Song, opposite Barbara Stanwyck in Christmas in Connecticut and scoring one of his biggest hits via 1947’s My Wild Irish Rose. Occasionally Morgan would show a tougher, more acerbic side with, after a strong 1942 wherein Morgan featured in two hits, the war-themed Captain of the Clouds opposite James Cagney and as the vixenish Bette Davis’ object of affection in the wild, entertaining melodrama In This Our Life, The Hard Way granting him a prime role in this more cynical area, as Morgan convinces viewers Paul is an apt adversary capable of putting Helen in her place if needed. After a period of continual success in the 1940s, Morgan’s screen output lessened with more sporadic appearances, with his final role coming via a cameo in 1976’s Won Ton Ton, the Dog Who Saved Hollywood, before retirement until his passing in 1994 at age 85.

In other roles, Gladys George is ideally cast as Lily Emery, an aging Broadway diva who unfortunately encounters Helen during a bad day at the center stage, utilizing her raspy, gin-soaked voice to maximum effect in a few standout moments, as she did regularly at Warners (The Maltese Falcon, Flamingo Road) and elsewhere (The Best Years of Our Lives, Detective Story). George expertly shows the egomania and insecurity that makes Lily both a pathetic and relatable character, and one is sympathetically drawn to her plight as Lily recounts past glories and hopes to rekindle her fame. As Helen’s weary, ineffectual husband Sam, Roman Bohnen makes a nice impression in his brief appearance, while Leona Maricle lends an urbane touch to her work as Laura Britton, a playwright interested in working with Katie. Faye Emerson, years before her greater stardom on television, also is seen to good advantage as a waitress who catches Paul’s eye, while other familiar faces that pop up include Virginia Brissac, Ann Doran, and William Hopper.

                Released in February of 1943, The Hard Way was a solid critical and box-office success, lingering enough in memory to factor into the year-end awards, with the film placing on The National Board of Review’s top ten list and Lupino winning Best Actress from the New York Film Critics, and the movie, Lupino and Carson receiving awards from Photoplay magazine. Come Oscar time the film was unfortunately overlooked, possibly due to the uncompromising nature of the material, when nominations for (at least) Best Picture, Actress (Lupino) and Supporting Actor (Carson) were merit worthy. However, over the years the incisive screenplay, directing and performances have allowed The Hard Way to uphold the strong impact on audiences it had during its initial release. A recent Warner Archive Blu-ray provides a pristine print of the film, allowing an ideal format for movie lovers to discover the gratifying virtues found in one of the overlooked dramatic gems from the studio’s rich trove of 1940’s classics. 

                And a fond Farewell to a trio of performers who made their singular marks on the entertainment industry. Tim Curry, who passed away on August 25^th at 80, made his 1968 West End debut in Hair, before the 1970s sealed his greatest claim to fame with his indelible, fearless work as Dr. Frank-N-Furter on stage and, specifically, the 1975 film version of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Although first-run audiences didn’t know what to make of all the onscreen shenanigans, the ultra-charismatic work of Curry helped ensure the movie would gain fame as the ultimate late-night cult viewing, leading the gifted thespian to thrive on stage, television and film for the remainer of his rich career, with highlights including three Tony nominations for his stage endeavors, frequent television appearances, such as his creepy, vivid work as Pennywise in the 1990 miniseries It and an Emmy award for his voiceover work as Captain Hook, while also bringing to life a host of significant and lively characters on the big screen via appearances in such high-profile movies as Annie, Clue, The Hunt for Red October and The Three Musketeers.

                A constant presence on television from a 1954 debut at age 10 through the 1990s, Shelly Fabares also made her mark in movies as a three-time costar of the King, Elvis Presley, as well as on record via a 1962 #1 pop hit. First gaining wide renown on The Donna Reed Show, which aired from 1958-63, Fabares career would witness a substantial uptake when some behind-the-scenes Reed personnel thought it wise to have Fabares and her onscreen bother, Paul Petersen, try their hand at pop music. Although Petersen would also gain success in this field with a top ten hit, “My Dad,” Fabares’ recording of “Johnny Angel,” wherein, backed by the Blossoms including Darlene Love, the virtually untried (as a singer) seventeen-year-old’s pleasant, sincere vocal perfectly matched the lyrics which found a young girl hopelessly devoted to the song’s title figure, leading to major success on the airwaves and on vinyl, with the song landing at #1 on Billboard’s Top 100 chart in April of 1962 to mark its claim as one of the biggest female solo hits of the era.

It’s likely her recording fame helped Fabares land roles opposite Elvis in Girl Happy, Spinout and Clambake, which constituted the major part of her film career after starting out in bit parts in 1955. Continuing on television in the next two decades as a reliable guest star as well as the female lead in one of the most successful made-for-tv movies ever, 1971’s Brian Song, Fabares would find her career take a swift uprise with her work as Christine Armstrong in the 1989-1997 run of the hit sitcom Coach, which would finally bring Fabares Emmy recognition, with two Supporting Actress in a Comedy Series nominations after honing her craft for 35 years on television. Fabares would largely retire from the industry post-Coach, with one tv movie a few vocal credits to her name thereafter, focusing instead on work as a producer of the Screen Actors Guild Awards and her marriage (since 1984) to fellow television icon (via M*A*S*H) Mike Farrell before her death at 82 on August 22nd.

                An appealing presence in several top films of the 1950s and 1960s, who specialized in mixing sexual allure with a sweet, endearing persona, Leslie Parrish first studied music before initial fame on NBC as “Miss Color TV” led to movies. After debuting in brief roles in 1955, including A Man Called Peter and Daddy Long Legs, Parrish honed her skills until breaking through as Daisy Mae in the 1959 upbeat film adaptation of the Broadway hit Li’l Abner. 1962 brought Parrish the role for which her cinematic legacy rests upon, as the beguiling Jocelyn Jordan in one of the finest films of the decade, The Manchurian Candidate. Other key films of the period included Sex and the Single Girl and opposite Jerry Lewis in 1966’s Three on a Couch. Parrish would continue on films and television for another decade before her final credit in 1978, then retire to focus on environmental activism until her death on November 14, 2025, which was only publicly disclosed on August 23^rd. RIP to each of these talented, memorable performers. 

A Fond Farewell to an Always Beloved Icon, Dolly Parton

 

The sad news of Dolly Parton’s death at 80 on August 25^th hit much harder than usual when hearing of a celebrity passing. Growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, I became a fan of Parton from early childhood, from the early solo country hits she wrote and sang (after her first success dueting with Porter Wagoner starting in the late 1960s) such as her first #1, “Joshua,” the poignant “Coat of Many Colors,” and two enduring smashes legend has Parton penned on the same day, “Jolene” and “I Will Always Love You,” written with Wagoner in mind after Parton inevitably moved on to wider acclaim and success as a solo artist. Another #1, “Love is Like a Butterfly,” served as the theme song to Parton’s television variety show, wherein her warmth and sincerity indicated a screen presence of singular appeal might be utilized in film. Late 1977 into 1978 witnessed wide musical crossover success from country to pop with the infectious “Here You Come Again,” which landed at #1 for five weeks on the Country charts before hitting #3 on the pop charts, followed by “Two Doors Down,” which also gained solid county and pop airplay.

                With Parton continuing to build her legacy in music late in the 1970s (“Heartbreaker,” “You’re the Only One”), a major leap to superstardom awaited with the new decade. Jane Fonda had caught Parton on television and felt that, although untried as an actor, Parton would be a perfect fit for a project Fonda was working on involving three female office workers embroiled in a battle of wills with their unscrupulous boss. Released just before Christmas in 1980, the comic-ladened 9 to 5 became not only the rare smash of the period to top $100 million in box office figures, but also propelled Parton to major screen stardom and one of her biggest solo hits, with her infectious title song making it to #1 on the country and pop charts, and gaining Parton an Oscar nomination for Best Song. Parton also was granted critical praise for her triumph on screen her first time out, wherein she easily kept pace with costars Fonda, an inspired Lily Tomlin, and Dabey Coleman as Frank Hart, aka the Boss from Hell. As Doralee, Hart’s sweet, humorous and upbeat secretary, Parton won over vast audiences with a naturalness, sincerity and intuitive comic spark onscreen that couldn’t be beat. Among the impressed viewers was this author, who was ecstatic to see Parton was as gifted onscreen as on her recordings.

                9 to 5 propelled Parton to a place among the cinematic elite, including gaining the position as the top female box office draw for 1981 (according to the esteemed Quigley Publishing poll), a feat she was able to match the following year with another huge hit, teaming with the #1 male draw, Burt Reynolds, for the film adaptation of the musical The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Although the movie’s uneven in tone, Parton’s melodious voice, honesty and likability shine throughout, and do much to keep the film afloat. She has an infectious, robust joy for performing and magnetic presence that completely draws a viewer in, hitting exactly the right comic or dramatic notes as Miss Mona, the no-nonsense businesswoman who runs the title establishment. Although there’s a wealth of lighter fare on display, including a sexy, playful duet with a game Reynolds as the Sheriff, Parton illustrates how impactful she could be dramatically with her heartfelt rendering of “I Will Always Love You,” which was wisely added to the film and became a #1 Country hit again for Parton, a decade before Whitney Houston would send through the stratosphere on the pop charts. Set towards the end of the film wherein Miss Mona attempts to bid adieu to her sheriff/lover, the song opens with the camera on Parton’s back, before Miss Mona turns and sings “If I should stay. . .” The simple purity, fragility and depth of emotion Parton’s displays during the number is profound, and demonstrates how Parton had an intuitive knack for fine screen acting, whatever genre she was playing, leading to high praise from such critical notables as Robert Ebert and the difficult-to-please Pauline Kael.

 

 A big follow-up undertaking, 1984’s Rhinestone, stopped her momentum onscreen, but she ended the decade on a high note as part of the star-powered female lineup in the film version of the deft comedy/tearjerker Steel Magnolias, wherein as down-to-earth beautician Truvy Jones Parton again displays fine comic chops and a perchance for incredibly moving dramatic moments, such as Truvy’s gentle remark to her husband, “It makes you pretty” concerning a beauty product he’s asked about, while the characters are simultaneously re-bonding, and her reaction at a climatic post-funeral scene with her costars, wherein Parton’s completely true and instinctive performance style is overwhelmingly touching (rather than acting to a fare thee well as her costars do with great zeal and conviction, the focused Parton appears to be spontaneously taking in the moment as if it’s really happening, serving as a surrogate to audience members who are also emotionally gutted by the events unfolding onscreen).

                Parton continued to thrive during the later decades of her career, launching another entertainment cash cow with her Dollywood theme park. while continuing to reap accomplishments in musical, television and film, among them amassing a total of eleven career Grammys (including a Lifetime Achievement Grammy), another Best Song Oscar nomination for “Travelin’ Thru” and later a Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award from the Academy, a 2006 Kennedy Center honor, as well as involvement in many philanthropic endeavors including literacy programs for children, and a recent venture creating a Broadway musical based on her life and career. Through every enterprise and appearance, Parton’s talent, wisdom, humor and kindness burned bright, making her deservedly one of the most cherished entertainers ever, to the extent that her passing felt like the loss of a best friend to many. RIP to a true legend of various mediums; we will always love you, Dolly.

Paul Reubens as Pee-wee Herman Joins Filmdom's Elite with His Big Adventure

 

            Among Hollywood’s most imaginative and briskly entertaining comedies, Pee-wee’s Big Adventure granted Paul Reubens (as Pee-wee) and director Tim Burton the chance to join creative forces to concoct one of 1985’s most surprisingly original and beguiling screen entertainments, as Reubens translates his famous manchild persona from television’s The Pee-wee Herman Show to the movies with aplomb and gleeful enthusiasm. Working with a fun-filled, clever screenplay by Reubens and cowriters Phil Hartman and Michael Varhol, the scenario offers a fascinating riff on the Road Movie genre, with Pee-wee encountering a wealth of colorful characters and situations as he sets out on a quest to recapture his prized possession, the uniquely designed bike of his dreams, literally in some cases. Meetings with a convict, bike gang, “Large Marge” and a diabolically perky Alamo tour guide are some aspects that allow the film to speed by in a fast-paced 91 minutes, with Burton fully seizing his feature film directorial debut to showcase the offbeat style that would thereafter mark him as one of the Cinema’s most daringly innovative and prodigious talents.

The alternatively touching and unsettling short Frankenweenie, Burton’s primary film credit prior to Adventure, gave Reubens a chance to see the unique vision Burton possessed in forming a singular world onscreen, helping convince the star and producers that the young maverick was the ideal candidate to helm the zany, live-action cartoon universe found in Pee-wee’s venue. From the opening sequences showing Pee-wee in a dream winning the Tour de France, then rising to create one of the most elaborately devised breakfasts ever seen, it’s clear Burton is relishing his chance to let his imagination run loose depicting the expansive environment Pee-wee toils in. Burton’s perchance for   envisioning weird set designs and dark situations is evident throughout the movie, both in Pee-Wee’s “real” existence (Pee-wee standing in front of a bike shop with wheels spinning ominously behind him, a menacing mechanical clown outside a mall taunting Pee-wee) and in nightmare sequences wherein Pee-Wee imagines what could have become of his bike.

Frequent Burton collaborator Danny Elfman adds immensely to setting the proper otherworldly, eerily comic and cartoony vibe with a florid, playfully upbeat score that brings a carnival-like atmosphere to the often-outlandish events, while cinematographer Victor J. Klemper perfectly captures both the lighter, looser aspects of the vignettes, while also (sometimes simultaneously) granting a more sinister tone to the proceedings, such as Pee-wee’s amusing but somewhat unsettling visit to a magic shop, his meeting with an on-the-run convict, or his supernatural, memorable encounter with Large Marge. Following the success of Adventure, Burton would soon rise to the top of the Hollywood heap with hits such as Beetlejuice, Batman and Edward Scissorhands, while the distinct charms of his first major success would continue to hold a special place in Burton’s filmography for an ever-growing wealth of Adventure fans.

                By the time of filming, Reubens had finely crafted his vivid portrayal of Pee-wee on television, enabling him to put over his jubilant, wry, gleefully perverse bow-tied icon with confidence, skill and unmitigated comic brio. Whether Pee-wee is displaying unmitigated passion towards his prized bike, engaging in a childish “I know you are, but what am I?” battle with chief nemesis Francis or, in one of the film’s most indelible passages, calming a riotous gang of bikers with his nerdy but ultra-cool interpretive dance to “Tequila,” Reubens fully invests the role with a high-spirited, sometimes manic energy that draws the viewer to his plight, even when Pee-wee is not displaying the most noble or compassionate behavior, such as his dismissive attitude towards his adoring girl Friday, Dottie or when throwing out snide retorts, often just because he feels like it, so there. As Pee-wee traverses around seeking his lost cycle, Reubens and Burton have fun addressing a variety of stereotypes and putting a spin on these parts, such as Mickey, the convict who picks up Pee-wee, then appears to form a homoerotic bond with him, especially once Pee-wee goes drag to attempt to bypass authorities, or Simone, the melancholic waitress who shares a few choice double entendres with Pee-wee as they watch the sunrise inside a dinosaur. 

                The dynamic Reubens appears fully at home and confident putting over Pee-wee in his big screen venture as he combines frantic, unnerving gusto with sly wit and artful vocal work. For example, his obsession with finding “the best bike ever” is rendered wholly believable in a sequence wherein Pee-wee addresses a group of friends in a hours-long basement presentation, wherein he desperately details a throve of insignificant facts and becomes increasingly and hilariously agitated and forceful, shouting out his findings in a frenzied manner as he risks alienating everyone he knows. Conversely, Reubens often employs a calmer, sublime tongue-in-cheek style for maximum comic effect, such as in his stoic, deer-in-the-headlights appearance as a hotel clerk in the screen adaptation of his adventure, or when throwing out dryly sarcastic quips as he spars with Dottie, Francis, or anyone else who he finds bothersome.

                The adept supporting cast put over the various florid types with distinction and flair. Elizabeth Dailey, with her girlish voice and quirky but sincere delivery, proves an ideal mate for Pee-wee in their oddball pairing, while Judd Omen has a fine comic intensity as the brooding Mickey. Diane Salinger, with her haunting voice and fragile, desperate demeanor, makes Simone a compelling figure who adds a nice humane touch to the story, and Mark Holton is appropriately over-the-top as Francis, throwing himself into Francis’ contentious run-ins with Pee-wee with a campy verve that is well-match to Reubens’ equally aggressive but lighthearted emoting. In a brief passage with Reubens, Alice Nunn scores mightily as the foreboding Large Marge, leaving a lasting mark on viewers with only a couple minutes of screentime. James Brolin and Morgan Fairchild help cap off the movie with style and humor as the dashing and sexy screen incarnations of Pee-wee and Dottie, while Milton Berle, Tony Bill, Phil Hartman and Dee Snider with Twister Sister and Burton himself (as a thug) also pop up in fun cameos, as well as Cassandra Peterson as an alluring biker chick putting the moves on Pee-wee, while elsewhere she was gaining greater fame as the daffy but enticing Elviria. Finally, the great Jan Hooks gets perhaps the best screen chance to exhibit her brilliant comic timing as Tina, the slick, ebullient Alamo tour guide who drives Pee-wee to distraction with her inane, over-rehearsed yet cheerful musings of Alamo folklore, in the process ensuring herself a small but memorable place in the annals of prime comedic moments from 1980’s movies.

Released in July, Pee-wee’s Big Adventure became a surprise critical and financial success, as the uniquely offbeat comedy proved to be a perfect carefree vehicle for a summer night at the movies. Reviewers largely gave Reubens and Burton full credit for smartly expanding the Pee-wee Herman role into more adult territory without losing his appeal for the younger set, which he would establish further via Pee-wee’s Playhouse, while audiences turned out in substantial numbers, allowing the low-budget ($3,000,000) production to gain (according to Box Office Mojo) over $40,000,000 in ticket sales. Although mostly overlooked come award season, unsurprising for a high comedy with plenty of slapstick elements, Adventure has built a strong cult reputation over the years as a key film in Burton’s canon and of its era, as well as Paul Reubens crowning achievement on film. A 1988 sequel without Burton, Big Top Pee-wee, failed to merit the same reaction as Adventure, but in 2016 a Netflix release, Pee-wee’s Big Holiday, fared much better with critics and eager fans as a welcome return to form for both Reubens and his now-legendary creation. Both those uninitiated with Reubens’ flamboyant, eccentric, avant-garde take on the role or others fully attuned with Pee-wee’s vibe will be amply rewarded by taking an unforgettably fantastical trek with the lively extrovert as he embarks on a cinematic Big Adventure like no other.