On Blu-Ray: Judy Garland and Robert Walker in Vincente Minnelli's The Clock (1945)

 

While drama wasn’t Judy Garland’s core competency, she was nevertheless an accomplished dramatic actress. Her sincerity and the way she wore her heart on her sleeve gave her everything she needed to succeed in the genre. She’s well-matched with Robert Walker in the World War II-era The Clock (1945), her first non-singing lead, because he also had those qualities. I recently revisited the film on a gorgeous new Blu-ray from Warner Archive. 

Walker is Joe Allen, an Army corporal on a two-day pass in New York who wants to see the best sights the city has to offer. With his baby-faced earnestness and innocent enthusiasm, he looks like the sort of guy who would be gobbled up by Manhattan. You wait in suspense for someone to pick his pocket or otherwise take advantage of him. 

He is saved from such a fate by Alice Maybery (Garland), another innocent not long in the city herself. The soldier helps her to retrieve and fix a broken heel and soon convinces her to accompany him to the museum she has suggested. They hit it off immediately; their chemistry so strong that by the end of the 48 hours they know that they want to spend the rest of their lives together. 

The budding lovers get to know each other in a city that encourages their romance. A lonely man across the dining room pays for their meal in a restaurant. In another sequence, Alice and Joe take a ride from a milk delivery man who insists he wants their company in his truck. It ends up being more complicated than that and the way the pair help the man through adversity shows how they share a moral core and the ability to work together, both strong elements for a good marriage. 

Their experiences together in the city made me think of other New York-set films. The missed connections they overcome and their youthful loneliness evokes the equally touching silent-talkie hybrid Lonesome (1928). I also saw elements of bizarre nighttime chaos in the city that foreshadowed Martin Scorsese’s After Hours (1985) and that sparkle of instant chemistry and companionability was in the spirit of Richard Linklater’s Before Sunrise (1995). 

Director Vincente Minnelli, who would marry Garland in 1945, films his star with loving care. She glows with the beauty of a woman who is treasured and celebrated. As someone who wanted to be as gorgeous as the most desirable movie goddesses, this must have been a moving tribute for the star. 

The film strikes a good balance between the various perils that threaten to part the couple and long, uninterrupted stretches where Alice and Joe get to know each other. While their emotional bond is instant, the world around them is complicated and they overcome a lot within 48 hours of knowing each other. When that time is over and Joe must return to service, the memory of their struggle and persistence inspires a feeling of faith that he will return. 

Special features on the disc include the vintage Pete Smith specialty short Hollywood Scout, the cartoon The Screwy Truant, a radio show adaptation of The Clock starring Garland and John Hodiak, and a theatrical trailer. 

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

On Blu-Ray: Frank Sinatra, Shirley MacLaine and Dean Martin in Vincente Minnelli's Some Came Running (1958)

 

Going into Some Came Running (1958), I anticipated the steamy small town melodrama portrayed in the film’s trailer. It promised piano-pounding passion and a repressed mid-century society bursting from within. Perhaps it could have been about that, but in director Vincente Minnelli’s hands, James Jones’ (From Here to Eternity) massive tome evolved into something more sensitive and insightful, if still pulsating with the excitement promised in its marketing. This often somber, but engrossing Cinemascope production looks beautiful on a new Blu-ray release from Warner Archive.

Frank Sinatra stars as Dave Hirsh, a World War II veteran who reluctantly finds himself home in Parkman, Indiana. He is accompanied, in a fashion, by Ginnie Moorehead (Shirley MacLaine) a gaudy, but sweet dame he picked up while under the influence. Saddled with unwanted female attention, he also attempts, and fails to avoid his wealthy and self-absorbed brother Frank (Arthur Kennedy). Dave’s frustrations ebb when he meets Gwen French (Martha Hyer) a repressed school teacher who admires the works of his long abandoned writing career.

There is nothing in the town’s high society for Dave; he finds more comfort in the less restrained company of cardsharp Bama Dillert (Dean Martin). Ginnie seems a natural fit in that world, but Dave finds himself drawn to Gwen. In the midst of it all, just about everyone in the town misbehaves in one way or another, which makes it especially rich when Dave’s criticized for his drama simply because it’s published in the town paper instead of hidden behind doors.

While I find Sinatra’s restrained performance admirable, this film is stolen by MacLaine, with an assist by Martin. Minnelli seems to know this in the way he frames his scenes. Sinatra is always at his best with Martin, the shorthand of their friendship comes through on the screen and that is spotlighted with wisely balanced shots which feature both stars equally.

All of Minnelli’s sympathy goes to Ginnie though. His camera always seems to be checking in on her, framing her in windows, watching her adoringly as she peers through a classroom doorway. It is as if he wants to protect her, particularly from the toxic men in her life. She is the most vulnerable to the bad behavior that inevitably emerges when the males around her become adrift and insecure.

It’s heartrending to watch Ginnie beg for Dave’s love, she doesn’t deserve his snobbery and it’s horrifying to realize he’s actually treating her better than the other men she’s known. With her cheeks blasted with streaks of hot pink blush and a bedraggled purse shaped like a stuffed animal hanging from her arm, she seems like a child trying to play at being an adult, but beneath that façade is the core of the movie’s wisdom. Sinatra seemed to know that, and he felt that his costar deserved her flowers; he even had a key scene of the film altered to increase the emotional power of her role.

The film looks great, thanks to Minnelli’s experience in helming colorful, big budget musicals. He uses those skills in an artful way here, with careful compositions that use color, light, and various structures for maximum emotional impact. You see what particularly made him a great filmmaker when he is separated from the genre brought him fame.

Special features on the disc include a trailer and the featurette The Story of Some Came Running, which offers interesting insight into the film and its times.

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

On Blu-ray: The Bizarre, Beautiful Spectacle of The Pirate (1948)

You never hear anyone say that The Pirate (1948) is their favorite musical, or even their favorite MGM musical, but this unusual and boldly vibrant film is worthy of its own pedestal. I recently re-watched the Vincente Minnelli-directed production on a new Blu-ray release from Warner Archive and I found the gaudy delight that I had admired in past viewings has retained its appeal.

Of all the set-bound musicals, The Pirate is perhaps the most tightly-confined. It exists in a brightly-colored bubble consisting of a few settings, but for the most part centers on a bustling public square meant to represent a Caribbean town. 

It is there that Gene Kelly bursts onto the scene as Serafin a mischievous traveling actor setting up shop with his troop. Judy Garland is Manuela a local who is just about to marry the mayor of the city; yes it is a stretch to accept her as a Manuela.

Manuela is obsessed with the notorious Macoco, a pirate who represents adventure, virility, and escape. She is about to embark upon a life of comfort and ease as a wealthy man’s wife and the thought horrifies her. When she believes Serafin is Macoco, she falls hard, but the problem is that she sees what she wants to see when the truth is right in front of her.

This light plot serves as the structure for a giddy, lively scenario. The town square is full of extras in bizarre costumes. They are swathed in velvets and silks, stripes and polka dots, with outrageous splashes of color and clashing patterns. It’s busy and a lot to process visually, but it perfectly expresses the chaos of Manuela’s inner life which is now marching out for public view.

Kelly has played his share of rascals, but I’ve never seen him as randy as he is here. In his first number, he swirls around a cast of beautiful, haughty women, making it abundantly clear exactly what he wants and that he’s not the type to settle down. As he leans in to kiss a lovely lady, he sucks his lit cigarette into his mouth, letting it pop out when his task is completed. It is a precursor to the first time he sees Manuela, when in reaction to her beauty he lets a slow stream of smoke trail out of his mouth.

In line with the heated Mr. Kelly, Garland has never been so sultry. With her bright red lips and dreamy fits of fantasy, she is passion incarnate. Minnelli knew just how to show his star, and wife, to her best advantage. Here under his tender care she is transformed into a glowing temptress. It’s a pleasure simply to watch her raise a questioning eyebrow because she is so lovingly filmed.

The vibrant cast of characters gathered in the square does much to add to the mood of vibrancy and excitement. I found it exciting to see so many Black actors in dignified and lavish dress included in the mix, something you rarely got to see in that era. There are moments that drag a bit in The Pirate, but a glimpse of this milieu always gets things going again.

While the Cole Porter score doesn’t have the fire of his best works, the cheerfully tuneful Be a Clown is a high point. Garland and Kelly dance to the tune, but the highlight is Kelly’s dance with the Nicholas Brothers Harold and Fayard. They were a well-matched trio because all three dancers favored athletic, precise moves and high-energy choreography.

While it doesn’t have the robust roster of tunes to make it the best and brightest of the MGM musicals, this delightfully odd production is hugely entertaining, with its stars clearly enjoying the strange, but fascinating tone of it all.

Special features on the disc include commentary by historian John Fricke, a making-of featurette, a vintage comedy short and cartoon, a stereo remix of Mack the Black, song outtakes, promotional radio interviews with Garland and Kelly, and a theatrical trailer. 

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

On Blu-ray: Kay Kendall and Sandra Dee in The Reluctant Debutante (1958)

The Reluctant Debutante (1958) is one of those rare raved-about films that I couldn’t access for years, but found it lived up to my expectations when I could finally watch it. Based on a play by British writer William Davis-Home (also co-scriptwriter here with Julius Epstein) and directed by Vincent Minnelli, it hurtles through predictable plot points in a delightfully unusual and offbeat way. This has much to do with its lively cast, led by the bizarre and hilarious Kay Kendall in a rare starring role. I was delighted when this film that I once struggled to find on VHS was recently released on Blu-ray from Warner Archive.

Set during the debutante season, The Reluctant Debutante stars real life husband and wife Rex Harrison and Kendall as the also married Jimmy and Sheila Broadbent. Sheila is Jimmy’s second wife; he was once married to an American. The product of that first union, seventeen-year-old Jane (Sandra Dee) travels from the US to London to have a long visit with her father and the stepmother she has never met.

While Jane and Sheila get on well, their values are vastly different. The second Mrs. Broadbent wants very much for her stepdaughter to be a sensation during the season. Jane couldn’t care less about status and husband searching on the circuit, instead looking for fascinating subjects to photograph and much more interesting boys than the snooty bores circulating the balls.

Angela Lansbury complicates matters as Sheila’s nosy, but not unfriendly rival Mabel, who is also invested in propping up a young debutante: her daughter Clarissa (Diane Clare). A ridiculously boyish John Saxon adds more chaos as the polite, but worldly drum player with a reputation that Jane prefers to the upper crust swells.

Director Minnelli made little attempt to expand the action beyond the proscenium. With a cast like that he didn’t need to move far beyond four walls. Kendall had a way of expanding everything: herself, her surroundings, and the situation at hand. In a way you want her in a confined space so that you can appreciate every detail of her performance, because she works both big and small and it is a lot to take in. Harrison is a perfect foil for Kendall, essentially letting her have the fire, stepping out of the way, and taking his demotion to supporting spouse good-naturedly.

Tragically, Kendall was dying of cancer at the time of filming, a fact Harrison kept hidden from the actress, who thought she was suffering from an iron deficiency. She would die at age 33 in 1959. While she made several films throughout the 40s and 50s, she rarely found a role as juicy and well-suited to her talents as this one (Les Girls [1957] gave her another rare chance to shine).

With her sharp-edged beauty and screwball temperament, Kendall would have been a movie queen in the 1930s. Both onscreen and off she had the same merry, pedal-to-the-floor approach to living as Carole Lombard. Apparently she was also as joyfully foul-mouthed as her comedic soul sister.

As Jane, Sandra Dee is a precocious oasis of calm in the midst of Kendall’s whirlwind. Most young actresses would have faded away into dull straight-womanhood in this role. Dee can’t help but be compelling though. Even here at the age of fourteen she has a thoughtful gravity and a rare habit of listening carefully and learning quickly about the motives of those around her.

Saxon is equally calm, but magnetic. Having watched him play grizzled police detectives innumerable times over the years, it was amusing to see him in his dewy youth. These were the years where Hollywood seemed to think the Brooklyn-born actor should play Mexicans. He’s a good match for Dee, despite the slightly unsettling fact that this man is courting a girl who appears much younger than she is supposed to be.

With so many fascinating performers and the irresistible appeal of Kendall, this is a comedy romance that deserves more attention.


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

On Blu-Ray: The Luscious, Vicious Hollywood of The Bad and the Beautiful (1952)

In telling the story of a charismatic cad, The Bad and the Beautiful (1952) encapsulates all the glory, glamour, despair, and depravity of Hollywood. Director Vincente Minnelli’s portrait of the manipulative filmmaker Jonathan Shields (Kirk Douglas) feels so real that you can’t help wondering who was the inspiration for this man and the cast of characters that surrounds him. Now available on Blu-ray from Warner Archive, the film looks great and has retained its devastating power.

The story plays mostly in flashback, with a framing device in which producer Harry Pebbel (Walter Pidgeon) tries to convince actress Georgia Lorrison (Lana Turner), screenwriter James Lee Bartlow (Dick Powell), and director Fred Amiel (Barry Sullivan) to speak with Shields about a new production. The filmmaker is down-and-out, but this trio has taken plenty of professional and personal grief from Shields and they are understandably wary of him. Pebbel tries the risky tactic of asking them to reminisce about their times together, in the hopes they will find something good that makes them want to work with him again.

This vibrantly-told tale was based on George Bradshaw’s 1949 story Of Good and Evil, which was later released in an expanded version as Memorial to a Bad Man. It was originally set in the New York theater world, but producer John Houseman found it more interesting and novel to focus on Hollywood. He certainly had plenty of material to work with; it is rumored that Shields was crafted out of the personalities of Val Lewton, Orson Welles, and David O. Selznick.

The film made a profit, and won many accolades, including five Academy Awards out of six nominations. Douglas was nominated, and Gloria Grahame won supporting actress for barely over nine minutes of screen time, a record for shortest nominated appearance at the time.

While any acting nomination for The Bad and the Beautiful would be well deserved, it is always Lana Turner who gets to me the most. She so effectively communicates the hurt and yearning beneath her perfect blonde beauty. You could see just about anyone in this film bouncing back from disappointment, even Shields, but Turner’s take on Lorrison gives you the impression that she will always be a bit haunted and that feeling, coupled with the genetic burden of alcoholism, seems constantly ready to claim her.

Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of the film is that while it is so much about the dark side of Hollywood, it is also a perfectly pleasing Tinsel Town product: lushly glamorous, passionate, and vibrant with the charisma of its astonishing cast.

Special features on the Blu-ray include the TCM-produced documentary Lana Turner…A Daughter’s Memoir (2001), scoring session music cues, and theatrical trailers.


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

On Blu-ray: Bacall and Peck in Designing Woman (1957)

There’s a particular kind of mood that a film like Vincente Minnelli’s Designing Woman (1957) fulfills. It doesn’t go deep, but sometimes it is the beautiful milieu you deeply desire. Everyone onscreen looks well groomed, even the people who are supposed to be slobs, the sets are gorgeous, the clothes a marvel of construction, every character has something funny to say, and no one ever seems to truly suffer. Now on Blu-ray from Warner Archive, this bit of cinematic eye candy looks even better.

Gregory Peck and Lauren Bacall star as a sportswriter and fashion designer respectively, who meet cute, then ugly, then cute again and quickly marry. They barely know each other, which makes adjusting to daily life together an adventure. Her friends are arty, his are gruff. Clearly these social circles are hilariously not going to mesh well. And then there’s Peck’s ex, a sexy, and intellectually substantial showgirl played by eternal film stealer Dolores Gray.

There’s also a subplot about a gangster out to get Peck, but for the most part Designing Woman addresses the problem of how these people who are profoundly attracted to each other are going to bear living with each other. It’s a serious subject approached with hardly a forehead crease of concern.

Peck and Bacall don’t set off fireworks together romantically, but they are a pleasing comedy team. Both are more famous for dramas, but did just fine drawing laughs if they had the right script. This is perhaps the most success they both had in the genre, though Bacall's haughtily hilarious performance in How to Marry a Millionaire (1953) is a contender.

Gray owns all of her scenes, firmly equating sex appeal and class. She was made for the colorful, Cinemascope fifties, with her magnetic, if not too showy glamour and penchant for elegantly dominating a room. She’s also got a seductively lovely singing voice which she gets to show off in the production numbers There'll Be Some Changes Made and Music Is Better than Words both of which she is performing for a television camera, an amusing set up in that age.

For a film that looks so good, it isn’t surprising that the idea for it came from costume designer Helen Rose, who also created the costumes for Designing Woman. I'm sure plenty of ideas like that came from staff behind the scenes who didn’t get credit. Here Rose not only got credit, but her involvement was used to promote the film. One of the special features on the Blu-ray is an awkward, but amusing "interview" with Rose, where she filmed responses to pre-written questions for the use of the media.

In addition to the Rose interview, the disc includes a trailer for the film.


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