On Blu-ray: Young Elizabeth Taylor in National Velvet (1944) and Ivanhoe (1952)

 

 I’ve always felt like Elizabeth Taylor doesn’t get enough credit. Attention and admiration yes, but not enough praise for the variety she managed in her career. She was unique in the way she triumphed as a child actress and then moved through her teenage years gracefully before progressing to a higher level of acting and winning the greatest praise her industry had to offer. I thought about this as I watched a pair of new Warner Archive Blu-rays featuring the star in two early films: National Velvet (1944) and Ivanhoe (1952). 

Taylor showed the special passion for life that would fuel her many triumphs in her breakout performance as the horse-obsessed Velvet Brown in National Velvet. She glows with enthusiasm, entirely unable to show any teenage gawkiness despite the metal brace plate she keeps clicking in and out of her mouth. 

As a young rider who masquerades as a boy to compete in the Grand National Steeplechase, she emulates the strength of her mother (Anne Revere), a former champion swimmer who has a glint in her eye that implies a past of wild times behind her calm, maternal façade. As drifter and former jockey Mi, Mickey Rooney guides Velvet to the top, showing her the ropes when his initial impulse to take the race entry money and bolt is trumped by her infectious enthusiasm. This was the first time I tapped into Rooney’s talent. I never understood why he was so beloved until I saw him here, working in a lower-key register, revealing depths that could never come out in a musical. 

The rest of the cast is full of actors that always bring a smile; they’re like visual comfort food. There’s a young and pretty Angela Lansbury as Velvet’s sister and the always reliable Donald Crisp as the Brown patriarch. Freckle-faced, gap-toothed, sleepy-eyed Jackie “Butch” Jenkins is also there as Velvet’s brother, stealing scenes as he always does. 

I always find the middle part of the film drags, but the final race scene offers enough excitement to make up for the slack. Overall it’s a great tribute to the worth of taking risks simply because it makes you feel more alive. 

The sole special feature on the disc is a theatrical trailer.

While I am not generally a fan of period pictures like Ivanhoe, I find this production objectively pleasing. It is filmed in bold, beautiful color, the stars, costumes, and sets are attractive, and there are some decent action scenes. 

In the title role Robert Taylor is pretty, but bland. In one of his standard villain roles George Sanders is more exciting, though it’s creepy to see him put the moves on a young Elizabeth Taylor as a Jew who loves and strives to protect Ivanhoe. Her romantic rival is Joan Fontaine, who has almost nothing to do but look lovely. 

Taylor’s role is not much more substantial. While this is a movie of men, she can’t help but have a little steel behind her words, though she has clearly been directed to look passive and pretty. After the fire of youth roles like National Velvet, it’s hard to see her playing such a bland character, but she already had A Place in the Sun (1951) under her belt and more engrossing films were yet to come. 

The jousting scenes in the final portion of the film are the most rousing part of the action, with more thrills than any of Ivanhoe’s romantic life. 

Special features on the disc include the Tom and Jerry cartoon The Two Mouseketeers and a theatrical trailer.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review.

On Blu-ray: Vivien Leigh and Robert Taylor in Waterloo Bridge (1940)

 

Vivien Leigh made so few films that every opportunity to see her is a great pleasure. She achieved one of her best screen performances in Waterloo Bridge (1940). I recently watched the World War I-set romantic tragedy on a new Blu-ray release from Warner Archive. 

Adapted from a Robert E. Sherwood play based on his own experiences, this version of the story followed a more gritty take from the pre-code era directed by James Whale and starring Mae Clarke, and preceded the less faithful color adaptation Gaby from 1956 starring Leslie Caron. Director Mervyn LeRoy’s slick, but emotionally wrenching 1940 adaptation benefits from its sympathetic leads and solid supporting performances by reliable character actors including Maria Ouspenskaya and C. Aubrey Smith. It is perfectly engineered studio filmmaking, but Leigh’s performance gives it guts. 

Leigh plays Myra Lester, a young ballet dancer in wartime London who struggles to adhere to her dance mistress’ (Ouspenskaya) strict rules. She meets army colonel Roy Cronin on Waterloo Bridge and quickly bonds with him as the pair shelter together during an air raid. Their courtship advances speedily to engagement, but then Roy is abruptly called to battle, so they cannot be married. Myra loses her job and can’t find more work in war ravaged London. 

When Myra receives a mistaken notice that Roy has died in battle, she wearily turns to prostitution to make ends meet. She eventually finds Roy has actually been a POW, and is both elated and devastated to be reunited with him. For a time she continues their relationship, but she fears for his reputation if her secret is discovered. 

One of the best things about Waterloo Bridge is the way the leads subvert the norms of this kind of story. Vivien Leigh’s Myra could have easily slipped into weepy melodramatic mannerisms, but she remains grounded, mostly due to her steady intensity, but also because instead of becoming sentimental, she always stays firmly in the reality of her predicament. Taylor’s character is written to be more compassionate than men typically are towards a woman in Myra’s situation, and he enhances that kindness with a sort of wonder in the magnificence of this woman he loves. For this reason, their connection feels real in a film where the plot tosses them around with brutal efficiency. 

It is ultimately a story of how easily those who are marginalized can be destroyed. Myra and Roy can’t be married because of a law about when marriages can be performed, and it seals her fate. Myra nearly starves because she has no family or husband to protect her and there are few opportunities for young women to find steady employment in wartime London. When Myra meets Roy’s mother, the wealthy older woman has no understanding of her vulnerability, she takes her existential distress as a personal insult. Likewise, Roy fails to see the struggles a woman like Myra must endure simply to survive; he has only known luxury and the privilege of being a man. As a result, an innocent woman is devoured by a society that fails to support her. 

While it all sounds unbearably bleak, the couple's relationship is charming, Leigh is mesmerizing, and it is a beautifully filmed production. It breaks your heart, but with great elegance. 

Special features on the disc include a trailer for the film and a radio production of the drama starring Norma Shearer in the role of Myra.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

On Blu-ray: Robert Taylor and Stewart Granger in The Last Hunt (1956)

Based on a novel by Milton Lott, but featuring real buffalo herd thinning, the Richard Brooks-directed The Last Hunt (1956) is an unusual mix of fact and fiction. It comes from a period where westerns took on more moral complexity. Heroes are less certain, violence isn't as superficial, and a feeling of weariness is in the air. The film is now available on Blu-ray from Warner Archive, with a few vintage special features.

Stewart Granger stars as Sandy McKenzie, a skilled buffalo hunter who is aching to get out of the business. He is dragged back in by the cruel Charlie Gibson (Robert Taylor), who takes pleasure in the killing that increasingly repulses Sandy. Gibson also kidnaps drunken skinner Woodfoot (Lloyd Nolan) to join them, while Sandy hires the half-native ginger Jimmy (Russ Tamblyn) to skin as well.

They are an efficient team, setting up stands and piling up skins, working as well together professionally as they clash personally. It’s stunning to watch the massive herds of buffalo in their crosshairs. The footage was captured during the annual herd thinning at Badlands National Park and Custer State Park in South Dakota and the energy of the animals is palpable. It makes it all the more brutal to watch these magnificent beasts sink to their knees one at a time, their power extinguished, as the men ambush them.

Gibson doesn’t reserve his killing for animals, murdering a tribe of natives who he believes have stolen his horses. He spares a young woman (Debra Paget) and her child, forcing her to cook for the group. She is resigned to her fate, eventually falling in love with the gentler Sandy.

There’s a deep sense of loss and resignation to The Last Hunt. Sandy, Woodfoot, and Jimmy are all participants in a violent profession, but they are essentially tender. They are disturbed by Gibson’s sadism; his job as much a joy for him as a way to make money. Paget is given little to do in this scenario, but even she has more courage and strength than her captor, making her less passive than she seems at first. Tamblyn gets a little more opportunity to develop his conflicted, mixed-race character, but is also a mostly passive presence.

Taylor is at his best here: grizzled, mean, and yet still a little pretty. He’s nasty, but you can’t look away. That said, Nolan steals the show as a battered, but still joyfully messy character that’s a lot more fun than the rigid men he portrayed for most of his career. He is so uncharacteristically loose and relaxed that he is almost unrecognizable. Granger is a solid presence alongside them. While he not as commanding in his performance, he's appealingly dignified in his pursuit of decency.

It’s a brutal film, but infused with a compelling moodiness which the cast embodies effectively.

Special features on the disc include a pair of TV promo spots for the film, one which includes a brief glimpse of Tamblyn’s incredible tumbling skills. There’s also an original theatrical trailer.


Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review.To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

DVD Review: Katharine Hepburn in Sylvia Scarlett (1935) and Undercurrent (1946)

A new wave of Katharine Hepburn flicks recently released on DVD from Warner Archive drew me to a pair of titles that, while not among her most celebrated, were of interest to me because of their unusual quirks. Sylvia Scarlett (1935) and Undercurrent (1946) vary in critical, box office and artistic success, but it is worth shining a light on both of these underseen films.

Sylvia Scarlett was a critical and box office bomb upon its release and time has not revealed that response to be unjust. It is a Hepburn picture by billing, but it is perhaps most notable for being the film where Cary Grant's persona truly began to take shape. Kate plays the daughter of an embezzler and thief (Edmund Gwenn) who must masquerade as the teenage Sylvester in order to escape the authorities with her father. They meet grifter Jimmy Monkley (Cary Grant) in their travels and team up with him to attempt to make a living without stooping to work.

Hepburn is handsome, but profoundly irritating as a boy and the action zig zags in an erratic way, sort of moving forward, sort of getting nowhere, but it is all so bizarre that you can't look away. Fluffy-haired Brian Aherne is appealing as Michael Fane a cheerful artist who is drawn to Sylvia, but doesn't quite understand what he sees in this handsome young boy. His confusion and the female advances "Sylvester" must manage are among the most interesting elements of the film.

While homosexuality was seen as repellant, even deviant at the time, the characters here don't seem overly concerned when they touch upon it. It makes you wonder if there were a few closeted souls in the audience who took this as a positive bit of representation. Sylvia is repulsed,but not too scandalized by the prospect of gay eroticism, but the lady who attempts the seduction seems mostly amused by her mistake. Michael is not only less tortured, but a bit intrigued.

Romantic maneuverings aside, it is Cary Grant's transformation from handsome mannequin to sexy devil that distinguishes the film. While his lame Cockney accent hits the ears with a splat, his charm makes up for much of that awkwardness. This is the true screen debut of the debonair, mischievous and dangerously flirtatious Grant that would become a legend even outside of his own understanding.

In the more critically and financially successful romantic noir Undercurrent, Hepburn is Ann Hamilton, a wealthy socialite approaching middle age, who unexpectedly veers into marriage with handsome businessman Alan Garroway. Perplexed by his reluctance to discuss his brother Michael (Robert Mitchum), who seems to have disappeared due to some kind of disgrace, she tries to learn more about this scorned sibling. In the process she finds herself drawn to this figure of mystery, at least partly because he is so elusive, but also because he seems to perfectly fit her sensibilities.

I love the idea of falling in love with someone you've never seen and director Vincent Minnelli creates a dreamy feeling of romance even though the prospective lovers are not acquainted for much of the film. That mood is so intense that when Alan becomes jealous of his wife's obsession, the change in tone feels like a brutal intrusion.

Undercurrent is ultimately an odd film, because the leads are brilliantly cast, but they don't quite fit together. Mitchum perfectly fits the image of Michael that Ann has created, but Hepburn is not a good fit for him. They are discordant in temperament onscreen and apparently were in real life as well, where she seemed to think he was a no-talent skating by on his looks. It's an odd situation where she is not well cast opposite her love interest, but she also fits her role quite well. It is the same for Taylor, who is dangerously seductive, but not believable as a man obsessed with Hepburn. In a way, that lack of cohesion adds intrigue to the film, because it creates an imbalance that keeps you slightly on edge.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copies of the films for review. These are Manufacture on Demand (MOD) DVDs. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.