On DVD: Eddie Cantor 4-Film Collection

In a new collection from Warner Archive, four Eddie Cantor films produced by Samuel Goldwyn offer a glimpse into some of the popular comedian's best cinematic offerings. Palmy Days (1931), The Kid From Spain (1932), Roman Scandals (1933) and Strike Me Pink (1936) were an extension of the star's already phenomenal success on Broadway and the radio.

Though there was a time when he was beloved by millions, the appeal of Eddie Cantor has not translated to modern times as well as that of his peers. While the regular inclusion of blackface in his act can make latter day audiences squirm, I've always felt that the main issue is that his humor was particularly suited to his times. The more evergreen elements of his shtick are often physical--and in that area he amuses with a wide-eyed panic unlike any other star.

While Cantor's image was that of an innocent stunned by the sensuality of beautiful women, the camera in the three earlier films is not nearly so shy. Goldwyn packed these productions with scantily dressed Goldwyn Girls (including Paulette Godard, Betty Grable and Toby Wing) who would shimmy and shake in braless abandon. Strike Me Pink is notably more modest, relying more on costar Ethel Merman's astonishing pipes to draw attention.

As a set, the films helped me to better understand the Cantor appeal. While he didn't completely captivate me, I did appreciate how many facets there were to his talent. He really did know how to sell a song; it's easy to see how Depression era audiences could have felt encouraged by his energetic prancing and confident delivery. When he sings, he gives the impression of being out on a brisk walk. Cantor also had an unusual way with physical comedy, where he sometimes seemed simultaneously out of control and possessed with superhuman strength in a way that reminded me of Buster Keaton.

It is often the bits of patter that date Cantor. The rhythm of the comedy seems more suited to the vaudeville stage than film. Here he is at his best when he embraces absurdity, like the way he randomly makes duck noises in Palmy Days and somehow inspires other people to join him.

Palmy Days was Cantor's second film for Goldwyn, after the dreamy two-strip Technicolor Whoopee! (1930), a co-production with the comedian's former boss Florenz Ziegfeld. Though only filmed a year later, it's a markedly more assured production technically.

It takes a while for Cantor to appear. The opening number focuses on a most unusual bakery, where the bakers all look like showgirls. They dress in revealing halters, and in a most bizarre twist, break in the middle of the day to work out in the bakery's expansive gym and strip down for cold plunges in the indoor pool.

Cantor comes to the bakery undercover as an efficiency expert. He's really the abused employee of a fake psychic, and has been sent there to fulfill the man's prophecy that supervisor Charlotte Greenwood will meet her true love the day after their session together.

This was one of Busby Berkeley's early turns as dance director, and you can already see his talent for kaleidoscopic dancer formations, though on a more modest scale than he would achieve in later years. 

While I most admired the racy musical numbers and spotless Art Deco sets, I did enjoy the chemistry between Greenwood and Cantor. They're especially funny together in the closing scenes as they scramble to escape the evil psychic, doing everything wrong in the most oddly graceful way.

I found The Kid From Spain the weakest film in the set, partly because I could not accept Robert Taylor as a Mexican. As the college friend of Cantor in this Mexican-set comedy romance, he is handsome, but bland and just got in the way.

Though for the most part I felt the film lacked the peppy pace of the other titles in the set, it has some of the best standout moments as well. Most of these happen in the bullfighting climax, which is both funny and scary.

Of the four films, Roman Scandals dips the deepest into fantasy and has some of the best music. It is the story of a humble resident (Cantor) of the small town of West Rome, who uncovers a corrupt plan to evict several townspeople to build a jail the town doesn't need. Before he can blow the whistle, he finds himself transported back to ancient Rome.

There he has the good fortune to meet Ruth Etting, a torch singer whose appeal has similarly failed to bridge time with a widespread audience. He is also beguiled by Gloria Stuart, who plays a kidnapped princess. David Manners is typically bland as the hero and love interest, but his legs look pretty darn good in a toga. Character actor Edward Arnold has just the right girth and point to his nose to play the evil emperor.

Among the most memorable songs are the jaunty, earworm opening number Build a Little Home and Etting's devastating rendition of No More Love. You can just see the end of the pre-code era coming as Berkeley's numbers unfold to that last tune. They are among the most lurid of the period, depicting a highly eroticized slave auction with nude girls covered by their long platinum hair and leering buyers clearly imagining what they will do with their purchases. Those showgirls really were naked from the waist up too; Berkeley paid them extra to come in after hours and film their scenes with a skeleton crew.

Overall the production is better written too, with funnier gags and better verbal humor than in Cantor's earlier films. It is almost as if the comedian is finally translating his humor from the stage to the screen. The physical humor, the best of which can be seen in the riotous chariot race finale is also more polished, inspiring both thrills and laughs.

Strike Me Pink is more reliant on laughs, as the enforcement of the Code meant those Goldwyn Girls had to put on some clothes. Ethel Merman makes up for the end of the sexy fun by showing some serious pipes in this early film role. She is a nightclub singer with mob connections, who is also idolized by meek dry cleaner Eddie Pink (Cantor).

When Pink is hired to manage an amusement park, he finds he must leap out of his comfort zone to protect his employer's investment against mobsters who want their dirty slot machines in the park. The best of the humor arises from the way Pink tricks the mobsters into thinking he is a force to be reckoned with.

It's a well-paced flick, with a screwball approach that makes it feel a bit more timeless than Cantor's earlier films. 

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.

On DVD: Lucille Ball and Chester Morris in John Farrow's Five Came Back (1939)

Twelve people take a flight to Panama City, but as the title warns, Five Came Back. While there is great tension as to who makes that return journey, it is the interactions among a strong cast of characters, and economical, skillful direction by John Farrow that make this recent release from Warner Archives special.

The group is a tidy selection of types, among them a good-hearted prostitute (Lucille Ball), eloping socialites (Wendy Barrie and Patric Knowles), a kindly elderly couple (C. Aubrey Smith and Elizabeth Risdon) and a mob gunsel (Allen Jenkins) with some decent impulses, if not a heart of gold, with the young son (Casey Johnson) of a crime boss in his care.

They crash in the jungle, miles away from civilization, and it's a Hollywood-style crack-up all the way. No one appears to be injured, or even ruffled by the experience. Suits are unwrinkled and clean, Ball's hair remains perfectly curled, and even the little boy doesn't seem too fazed by the ordeal. Though the group appears to face near certain death, they collectively shrug their shoulders and make the best of it.

Still, it's an effectively made film, pulling at your emotions without dripping into sentiment. Though the RKO production had a lower budget than the studio's typical output, it never feels cramped or static. Farrow uses close-ups and sweeping shots of jungle foliage to give the proceedings texture, injecting enough life that it's hard to believe the actors are confined to a set. With so few settings that the film could easily be translated as a stage play the director makes you feel the danger lurking in the trees beyond their campfire.

The cast is fascinating as well. Rising star Lucille Ball is a standout as the tarnished but decent lady-of-the-night, while Chester Morris shows unusual depth as one of the pilots, just a couple of years away from his Boston Blackie series. John Carradine, Allen Jenkins and C. Aubrey Smith are always good to see in the credits, and they are reliably charismatic here. I thought Smith was particularly warm and sympathetic in his role, an interesting change from his typically more severe and elitist characters.

Child actor Casey Johnson is cute in a refreshingly natural way and Wendy Barrie and Kent Taylor are nicely nuanced in less showy roles. I was particularly impressed with Maltese actor Joseph Calleia as an anarchist on his way to be executed. I've seen him in several other films, but never has his intensity grabbed me as it does here. He demonstrates through his actions just why he got himself in trouble--and how he still might have more sense than any of the other passengers.

While I'm not claiming that Five Came Back is as good as Casablanca (1942), given the limited resources Farrow had I think it similarly ended up being much better than expected. If it hadn't been released in a year packed with instant classics, it might have gotten a bit more breathing room and the acclaim it deserves.

Farrow would remake his own film as Back from Eternity (1956), starring Anita Ekberg and Robert Ryan. While I don't think that more lavish version was as elegantly conceived, it is also a solid production and well worth checking out. It is currently available on the Warner Archive Instant streaming service.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. This is a Manufacture on Demand (MOD) DVD. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

Book Review: Missing Reels, by Farran Smith Nehme

Missing Reels
Farran Smith Nehme
Overlook Press (US)/Duckworth Publishers (UK)
2014

Missing Reels is a novel about the search for a lost film, filled with characters in 1980s Manhattan who act like the fast-talking denizens of a 1930s screwball comedy. That's a lot of nostalgia pulling from different directions, but all the elements come together nicely in this addictively entertaining debut from Farran Smith Nehme, better known in the classic film world as the beloved writer of the popular movie blog Self-Styled Siren.

Yazoo City, Mississippi transplant Ceinwin Kelly (pronounced KINE-win) works behind the jewelry counter of a New York City vintage clothing store, where she admires the merchandise, but is constantly tortured by her ill-tempered boss. At night she chain smokes and watches old movies on VHS with her two gay roommates, or goes to the repertoire theater by herself. 

She dresses like a 1930s starlet, or 1920s, depending on what one of her roommates can snag with his five finger discount. An elegant and mysterious elderly woman in her building named Miriam attracts her attention, and it isn't long before she learns that she had a brief career in film.

Miriam had one starring role, in the long thought lost silent film The Mysteries of Udolpho. Ceinwin becomes obsessed with finding the film, and she enlists a growing cast of characters in her quest, among them collectors, preservationists and Hollywood old-timers. She also falls in love with British mathematician and academic Matthew, who provides crucial aid in her search.

This book is tailor made for fans of classic Hollywood. There are loads of mentions of films, stars and other bits of history from the golden age of the industry. I always lit up with pleasure when another reference worked its way into the story, be it a nod to Jean Harlow, or a line quoted from All About Eve (1950). I can see how Missing Reels could appeal to fans of quirky romances and those who are nostalgic about New York City in the eighties as well.

The search for the movie doesn't begin until nearly a third of the way into the novel, which I think bothered me because I found the romance that made up the rest of the story less engrossing. 

Part of my problem was that I couldn't warm up to Matthew. I can't have much love for a guy who cheats on his overseas fiancée and strings along a much less experienced woman. I found him more overbearing than charming. It was hard to root for this pair when I kept thinking Ceinwin could do better.

However, the man is extremely helpful when it comes to tracking down information in the pre-internet age. In that regard, Matthew and Ceinwin are a good team. 

Once the cinematic detective work began, I couldn't put the book down. Real details about film, like the different ways nitrate and safety reels smell and how the preservation process works are combined with "if only it were so" fictional creations like the Brody Institute, a remarkably resourceful organization dedicated preserving film and the prickly Miriam who I would love to encounter in real life.

The characters Ceinwin meets in her quest are a varied lot, and her dialogue with them is witty and often funny. I laughed out loud throughout a bizarre scene featuring a Topo Gigio puppet. 

These quirks made the twists and turns of the amateur sleuth's detective work all the more entertaining. I keep referring to the action as "scenes" because the whole thing felt like a movie unreeling before me, not striving for reality, but rather the heightened romance, action and brilliance of an entertaining flick.

On top of all that, Missing Reels contains a plea that we take film preservation seriously, and realize that films in need of restoration are crumbling away in archives, sheds, attics and barns all over the world. That this serious message is at the core of such an amusing read makes me love it all the more.

Thank you to Duckworth Publishers for providing a copy of the book for review.

On DVD: Robert Morse in Quick! Before it Melts (1964) and Sandra Dee in Doctor, You've Got to Be Kidding! (1966)

While I'm normally wary of any film that has an explanation point in its title, I found the sixties comedies Doctor, You've Got to Be Kidding! (1966) and Quick! Before it Melts (1964) to be a lot of fun. Both are newly released on DVD from Warner Archive.

Doctor, You've Got to Be Kidding is both very much of its time and slightly ahead of the curve. It draws its laughs out of the horrors of attempted date rape, sexual objectification and an overbearing stage mother, but it also features a heroine who isn't shamed for becoming pregnant out of wedlock and who is celebrated for her independent nature.

Sandra Dee stars as young secretary Heather Halloran, who finds she's got a baby on board after a night of passion with her boss (an unpleasantly stiff George Hamilton). They are in love, and he has already proposed, but she has turned him down because of his stuffy ideas about keeping a wife in the home. Heather has other options though, her vocal coach, a friendly shoe salesman and a randy next door neighbor are all eager to take her to the altar (Dick Kallman, Dwayne Hickman and Bill Bixby respectively).

To further complicate matters, Heather's mother (Celeste Holm) has been on a lifelong quest to force her marginally talented daughter into a career as a singer. Heather fights this all the way through college, and then suddenly, oddly becomes interested in pursuing the stage, even though she is gainfully employed and apparently happy in her job-- expect for that whole sexual tension with the boss thing.

Though it is full of the sort of farcical humor and visual quirks (SO many comical freeze frames) that could sink a 1960s comedy, Doctor floats along giddily with good-natured goofiness. The cast members appear to be having fun, digging into the absurdity of their roles and playing slightly, and entertainingly over-the-top. Bixby is especially amusing; he seems to delight in the sexual amorality of his essentially good-hearted character. He demonstrates solid comic chops here.

As good as the supporting cast is, it is Sandra Dee who makes all the insanity work. I've always found her to be a remarkable star. She's got all the gloss of an adorably glamorous sixties ingénue, but veers from that role just enough to show a bit of grit and naughty glee. The perpetually perky Dee is perfectly suited to frothy flicks, but is never insubstantial herself. There are moments when a giggle slides into a warmer, more knowing laugh, or the look in her eyes hints at something darker within.

Dee is given a great character to work with too. She is seen to be in a predicament when she becomes pregnant, but is never judged for her sexual encounter. Even when she cuts loose in an effort to forget Hamilton, her actions are seen as amusing, rather than problematic. She smokes, drinks and parties, but she is never degraded.

It's an interesting comedy that tangles lightly with issues from a time of dramatic social change.

Quick! Before it Melts has a similar attitude about women and sex. The film approves of the former being barefoot and pregnant and the latter happening after marriage, but acknowledges that it can be exciting to explore other possibilities.

It stars Robert Morse and George Maharis as a journalist and photographer team who are sent to Antarctica to dig up stories. Morse is engaged, but susceptible to beauties like Tiara (Anjanette Comer) a mixed-race beauty with Maori blood he meets on a stopover in New Zealand. Maharis is a ladies' man, adored by every woman he meets and drunk on their charms himself.

Though the comedy can drag a bit in the early scenes, it's an amusing novelty, not above using the cutesy appeal of penguins, but also with a bit of a racy feel. The script keeps you on your toes, starting to lead you down a certain path and then making amusing diversions.

When Morse's boss, who is also father to his fiancée calls, he asks what he is doing, and the younger man bluntly answers, "I'm trying to seduce your daughter," to which the unfazed bossman replies that he hopes he has better luck than he did with his wife. There's also a charming love scene where Morse sighs to Comer, "You're so beautiful" and she groans, "I know, it's a bore," before she pulls him into a passionate kiss.

An unusual flick, with lots of second tier stars doing first rate work.

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.

Quote of the Week: Vittorio De Sica

Image Source

Never shed tears for something that cannot shed tears for you.

-Vittorio De Sica, to Sophia Loren

On DVD: Bette Davis and Warren William in The Dark Horse (1932)

In a bit of political maneuvering gone awry, dimwitted Zachary Hicks (Guy Kibbee) is nominated as an unlikely candidate for Governor at a Progressive party convention. The insanity that follows often does not see far removed from the current political landscape. This new release from Warner Archive is like a Frank Capra film with noble sentiment excised, to be replaced with gleeful cynicism.

As Hicks is clearly unlikely to win the election, secretary Kay Russell (Bette Davis) is easily able to convince party leaders that her boyfriend, Hal S. Blake (Warren William) is the campaign manager who can lead them to success. She manages this despite the fact that he needs to be sprung from jail for missing alimony payments.

Blake confidently takes the reigns from Kay once he gains his freedom. He coaches Hicks to a win by working with his idiocy to make him look smarter. With every movement plotted like the script of a play, he approaches politics as a performance.

William and Kibbee are perfectly cast. The pair were members of the consistently reliable stable of Warner Bros players in the pre-code years and they play their familiar character types with confident ease. Buoyed by a sharp script by the famously witty Wilson Mizner and the snappy efficiency of the studio's best early talkies, they fall comfortably in its familiar and consistently successful formula for comedy.

A very young Bette Davis plays what would probably have otherwise been the Joan Blondell role. While Blondell might have brought it a bit more zing, Davis is lots of fun to watch. She isn't the larger-than-life "Bette Davis" yet, but you can see her emerging. The budding actress already has the brisk, proud walk, those sweepingly expressive eyes and her voice is building up to that legendary grandeur.

Often Davis was the flirtatious, sexy and essentially sweet blonde in her early roles; here she is more powerful. Already, she could command a room. While she isn't the center of attention, she has plenty of opportunity to give a preview of what was to come.

This is a happy diversion for fans of the leads, lovers of pre-code movies and those who like their politics with a side of acid.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. This is a Manufacture on Demand (MOD) DVD. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

On DVD: Crime and Intrigue in Once a Thief (1965), The Secret Partner (1961) and Signpost to Murder (1964)

I recently watched three very different takes on the 1960s crime thriller now available on DVD from Warner Archive. Once a Thief (1965), The Secret Partner (1961) and Signpost to Murder (1964) tread similar ground, from bleak situations to twisty plots, but each film has its own unusual character.

French star Alain Delon and Ann-Margret as a couple? That's all I needed to draw me to Once a Thief. That pairing, and an unusual cast including Jack Palance, Van Heflin and John Davis Chandler as an incredibly creepy, subhuman thug, are what bring distinction to this otherwise routine take on a former convict who struggles to stay honest after serving eighteen months for armed robbery.

Director Ralph Nelson (Lilies of the Field [1963]) sets a good scene, with friendly, if scrappy teens hanging out on a city stoop, and stores, streets and nightclubs that feel real. A laidback Lalo Schifrin score, more jazzy than his typical groovy vibe, gives the drama a cool feel. You know what's going to happen though--Delon's going to be drawn back into crime, it's not going to go well.

So you are left with Delon and Ann-Margret, who are pretty hot together. They're married, with a kid, but they can barely wait for the little one to drop off to sleep before they launch into foreplay in the doorway. Ann-Margret can go a bit over-the-top when she gets angry, but for the most part, you feel her dilemma as a woman who knows she's married a man who is bad for her, but wants him so bad she can't leave him.

I had trouble watching Delon as an English-speaking character, he seems meaner, and less erotic when not speaking his native tongue. It struck me how the much older and less conventionally handsome Heflin as a detective almost seemed sexier than him sometimes, just by the force of his charisma. 

The action in The Secret Partner is preceded by a dying marriage, and the film has the same cold fish feel as a fizzling love affair. Stewart Granger stars as a shipping executive who is being blackmailed by his dentist because of a crime in his past. He is then framed for another theft, all while his wife (Haya Harareet) leaves him because she thinks all his payments are funding extramarital trysts.

This is a slow-moving, but attractive production, also with a fine jazzy score. I was struck by some of the unusual angles that Basil Dearden used to heighten the sense of dread and peril. However, there isn't much of interest to enliven the pretty feel of it. 

Most of the cast is effective enough, and there are some novel twists, it's just not terribly exciting. It's easy to see why Harareet (Ben-Hur [1959]) didn't have much of a film career. She's attractive, but so lacking in interest she's almost a void onscreen.

That said, the film held a muted appeal for me. Its twists were just novel enough to surprise me and keep my attention to its bitter end, where I wondered if there was anyone worth rooting for.

I enjoyed seeing Stuart Whitman take on a rare starring turn in Signpost to Murder. He's an unusual star, not exactly handsome leading man material, but not quite a character actor either. With his slender waist, high shoulders and square chest, even his appearance seems to defy categorization.

Here Whitman stars with Joanne Woodward, in a nearly house-bound film that clearly shows its roots on the stage. He's Alex Forrestor, a man who has been committed to a mental institution for the murder of his wife. 

The hopeful, and seemingly cured convict breaks out when a doctor tells him of an old law which grants a new trial to escapees who can elude capture for two weeks. His hiding place: Molly Thomas' (Woodward) house, which is down the road from the institution.

And what a bizarre house it is. Filled with oddly placed chairs and couches, all of them seeming to discourage any sort of interaction between guests, the most unusual feature is a creaky old mill wheel which is visible through a large window in the living room and the bedroom on the floor above. The drippy squeaks of this odd feature punctuate the film's soundtrack for almost the entire running time and you can't help but wonder how Molly keeps from going crazy.

Though she is at first understandably reluctant to harbor a fugitive, Molly becomes attracted to Alex very quickly. You can only guess that she's got a taste for bad boys, or maybe the rush she gets from fear. 

Police detectives, her maid, even the local pastor tromp through her house, looking for Alex and trying to comfort her over the murder of her husband in the woods the day of Forrest's escape. Though the man hiding in her bedroom could have made her a widow, she never thinks to give him up, even though she easily could.

Whitman and Woodward are an uncomfortable match. It isn't easy to accept them as irresistibly attracted to each other, but they commit to the convictions of their characters with fascinating intensity.

It doesn't all quite come together as it should, but these people are so strange, so off-center in their behavior, that the film is fascinating in an unsettling way. There were a few twists that surprised me, even though in retrospect I couldn't believe I didn't see them coming. It was almost as if I had been sold on the character's odd sense of logic.

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.