On Blu-ray: A Cast of Sympathetic Characters in Battleground (1949)

We must be smart enough and tough enough in the beginning. To put out the fire before it starts spreading.

Battleground (1949) performs a balancing act of great precision. It plunges you into the devastation of war, but it also shows flickers of light. Though it can often be difficult to watch, this is an entertaining, engrossing film that succeeds because of and despite its bleak message. Now it is available on Blu-ray from Warner Archive.

The setting is Belgium in 1944. A platoon of American soldiers struggle with homesickness, discomfort, loss and the horrors of war as they fight the Battle of Bastogne in a final, horrific counteroffensive against Hitler. With an Oscar-winning screenplay written by Robert Pirosh, a veteran of the stand-off, this is a tense film because the details feel true-to-life.

It opens with a shot of a Christmas tree, decorated with the naked leg of a female mannequin. Soldiers in formation sing about the home they left, the baby they left. Though they constantly make jokes and lightly jibe at each other, you can feel how homesickness continually plagues them. A piece of bread or the prospect of getting real food, like a plate of eggs, symbolizes not only comfort, but the homes to which they wish to return.

To make it all the more touching, director William Wellman's cast is packed with some of the most likeable actors in Hollywood. Most famous for lighter musical and comedy fare, it is almost disorienting to see stars like Van Johnson, Ricardo Montalban and George Murphy in such a bleak milieu. The actors who are more strongly associated with dramas, like James Whitmore and John Hodiak, serve as a sort of comfort, because you know how the characters they play have triumphed over darkness.

It's an interesting cast, diverse in character, but simpatico. They play off of each other with such lightness that when they can no longer shut out or gloss over the tragedy surrounding them, there is a feeling of profound loss. One moment they attempt to casually chat during a bombing, the next, they face death.

For all the forced gaiety among the soldiers, the atmosphere is one of pure horror. A haunting fog envelopes most of the action, and is a constant reminder of their vulnerability to sneak attacks and starvation due to the lack of supply drops. The battlefield covered in snow hints at the discomfort of the men and the fear of muffled steps in the snow masking a deadly approach. Half the time the soldiers can't see their target, the rest they are unsure if they are speaking to Americans or German soldiers succeeding at a brilliant masquerade.

Audiences must have still felt raw from the wounds of World War II as they watched this upon its first release. This is the fear that they either felt themselves or saw their loved ones experience. That terror is stripped down to the basics, where a makeshift shelter under a jeep can be a tomb or a pair of empty boots can cause a man to choke in helpless grief.

A harrowing experience, Battleground is nevertheless a deeply satisfying film that rewards multiple viewings. It elicits empathy by drawing you into the battle, the boots and helmets of these brave, but ultimately vulnerable men.

The black and white imagery on the disc is especially striking, with a soft, velvety look that enhances the feeling of a disconnect from reality on the fog-shrouded battlefield. Special features include a trailer for the film, a vintage featurette and the cartoon, Little Red Riding Hood.

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

On Blu-ray: Twiggy Literally Kicks Up Her Heels in The Boyfriend (1971)

Director Ken Russell's take on Sandy Wilson's stage musical, The Boyfriend (1971), is cheerful and bright to the point of insanity. It's full of colorful sets and vigorous toe tapping, while mod British supermodel Twiggy shines as the effortlessly sparkling center of it all. This unusual film is now available on Blu-ray from Warner Archive.

Twiggy is Polly Browne, a seemingly awkward stage assistant at a small time theater. When the leading lady of the current production breaks her leg, the errand-running ingénue is pushed into the spotlight; apparently it is part of her job duties. Her director gives her the same pep talk Warner Baxter gave Ruby Keeler in 42nd Street (1933), but instead of prancing onstage to entertain the masses, she faces an uninspiring sprinkling of bored daytime patrons.

No matter though, because there is a Hollywood director sitting in a box above the stage who is looking for new talent. Everyone but Polly performs directly for him (even Russell's camera), which of course makes her irresistible to him. The newly-minted stage star is oblivious to it all though, focusing all her attention on her dreamy blonde co-star Tony (Christopher Gable), on whom she has a devastating crush.

Whatever shape this big and boisterous musical took onstage, it has fully translated to the screen as a Russell production. The wild-eyed boldness of his style is a good fit for the always-on energy of show people. Supernaturally long and lean Tommy Tune clicks his heels in impossible ways as he dances down the hallway of the theater, demonstrating the inborn drive to perform, but it is also simply fun to watch this unusual dancer at play, and Russell seems to know it.

The action is divided into three parts: backstage intrigue, the company's stage production, and a series of larger-than-life dream sequences. The backstage bits glue everything together, setting up alliances and rivalries. Onstage, you get not the glamour, but the effort of performance: scenery squeaks, makeup is garish and you feel every bit of the strain on the dancer's calves and strenuously grinning faces. The fanciful joy of musicals, where you have distance from any sense of effort on the part of the players is in the fantasy elements, where boisterous woodland frolics are alternated with the kind of kaleidoscopic Busby Berkeley-style dances that could never work in a theater.

This juxtaposition of intrigue, sweat and glitter is presented with outrageous costumes, dramatic sets throbbing with color, and chorus girls with enormous wide-open eyes. Watching it is to gorge yourself on sensation. The Boyfriend may be G-rated, but it still has the sensual, overblown thrust of a Russell production.

While the spectacle has its appeal, it can also be disturbing. When you can see the seams in a production, it begins to lose its charm. Uneven floorboards and the sound of stomping, rather than lightly tapping feet dilute the magic. While having all the elements of a musical, this is also a rebellion against its artifice.

Though she is the focus of the film, Twiggy seems almost untouched by the insanity. Polly has not been seduced by the spotlights and the bone-thin model seems much the same. She is an unaffected and natural performer. It's delightful to watch her run through the hallways of the theater with a little spring to her step, very much the flapper. 

It must have been a surprise to see how a woman famous for her long eyelashes and pixie persona was also an intensely charismatic performer and delightful vocalist (she sings in a simple, but smooth way that is a lot like Janet Gaynor's style in her early 1930s musicals) . There's a subtle, entrancing confidence to her that is unusual in any actress, let alone one who had so little experience.

For the most part the Blu-ray image is good, though in some of the outdoor scenes the color is a bit washed out. The bold colors and bright silvers of the costumes and stage sets are presented to satisfying effect. The sole special feature on the disc is an entertaining vintage featurette about the movie filmed at the time of production.

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

UPDATED WITH WINNER! Enter The TCM Classic Film Festival Button Pack Giveaway!

From April 6-9, I will be attending the TCM Classic Film Festival for the fourth year as a member of the media. As some of you may remember, last year artist, classic movie fanatic and festivalgoer Kate Gabrielle created a great set of buttons to help film fans celebrate the highlights of the festival and connect more easily with each other in person. These are perfect to pin onto your pass lanyard, though they are also quite attractive on bags, jackets or whatever surface you might like to lend a little classic movie flair.

Kate is selling the packs (pictured above) on her website. Each set includes:

-One 2.25" social media introduction button. You can choose your username for Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. 

-One 2.25" button displaying how many years you've been attending the festival. You have a choice of Barbara Stanwyck or Gary Cooper on your button.

-Two 1.5" matching buttons featuring Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart to celebrate the 75th anniversary screening of Casablanca

-Five 1" buttons with a selection of images of the attendees  and featured films at the 2017 festival

It was great fun to have this set at the festival last year. It really is a great conversation starter. 

I did a button pack giveaway in 2016, and once again, I want to share one with all of you. 

I will be awarding one lucky TCM Classic Film Festival attendee (or classic film fan) with a personalized set of Kate's buttons.

All you need to do is tell me in the comments:

What are you most excited to see or do at this year's festival? If you are not attending: what films, events or guests look most interesting to you?

It can be one thing or twenty! I love to hear what brings you all from all over the world to this event that is as much about connecting with other film fans as it is seeing the stars and watching movies.

The rules:

-Only US residents please.
-While this is an ideal prize for TCMFF attendees, you do not need to be going to the festival to enter.

-All entries must be made by midnight PST, Monday, March 13

-Only guesses made in the comments below are eligible.

I will announce the winner, and share the answers in an update to this post and on my social media accounts on Tuesday, March 14

Good Luck!

UPDATE:

I drew a name out of my hat:

and the big winner is...

Thank you to everyone who entered! Paulet, please send me an email at classicmovieblog (at) gmail.com with: 

-Your mailing address

-The Twitter, Instagram or Facebook tag you want on your ID button

-The number of years you have gone to TCMFF and your choice of Barbara Stanwyck or Gary Cooper for your other personalized button

Your prize will be coming directly from Kate Gabrielle. Enjoy! 

Book Review--Young Orson: The Years of Luck and Genius on the Path to Citizen Kane

Young Orson: The Years of Luck and Genius on the Path to Citizen Kane
Patrick McGilligan
Harper, 2015

The universally acclaimed Citizen Kane (1941) alone would have assured Orson Welles a solid place in entertainment history. That the 25 years leading up to that unique cinematic achievement were filled with enough success for a lifetime makes the novice filmmaker's accomplishment all the more remarkable. I've taken my time reading the 747 pages of Young Orson: The Years of Luck and Genius on the Path to Citizen Kane in which Patrick McGilligan tells that story and I am glad I allowed myself to linger. This is a fascinating book about one of the greatest artists to have existed.

McGilligan offers a thorough background to Welles' story, devoting nearly three chapters to his family and hometown Kenosha, Wisconsin before the baby genius is born. Even before his birth, you see the seeds of his work in his mother Beatrice and father Richard. The stage is set for a childhood of affluence, but much turbulence.

Beatrice Welles is most responsible for bringing out young Orson's artistic side. A devoted patron of the arts and piano recitalist herself, she schooled him in music, art and literature. As a child he spent a lot of time in the company of the famous singers, writers and actors who were a part of her social circle. When she died in 1924, at age 42, Dick Welles was not as able to take up the reigns of parenting as his by then estranged spouse had been, but the inventor and alcoholic gave his son another education as he accompanied him on travels around the world.

Papa Welles would die six years later, but not before he had ensured his son was firmly in the care of Dr. Maurice Bernstein, a close family friend. Known as "Dada", he would have a major, if complicated, influence on Orson. The young Welles was sent to the Todd School, where he would meet another caretaker of sorts and lifelong friend Roger Hill, who was headmaster and teacher and the first to give the teenage Orson the chance to direct a stage production. The two men would be as important as his parents, if not more so throughout his life. These varied early influencers are shown to form the foundation for Welles' remarkable early career.

As a teen, Orson traveled alone to Ireland, where he first found success on the stage. That early minor fame led him to New York City, where he would write a book of Shakespearean play adaptations, star on Broadway, become a director for the government theater WPA, start his own Mercury Theater company with the Brit John Houseman, become a famed radio player and somehow find the time to marry all before he was barely out of his teens.

Among the great successes of those early years: an all-black production of Macbeth with a voodoo theme set in Haiti, the controversy-plagued political musical The Cradle Will Rock, which would eventually be the subject of its own movie, and the legendary scandal that was Welles' all-too-realistic radio production of The War of the Worlds. These high notes, and the myriad successes and failures in between are dissected in great detail, with accounts from many of the players involved.

You get a great sense for how absorbed Welles was in his work, with little care for material gain, sleep or any sort of personal stability. He would drive himself to exhaustion, gorge himself on elaborate meals and forge forward with the next idea, or as was often the case, many ideas at once. It is exhilarating and draining to absorb all that Welles did in these years.

While the essential concept of the book is to take Welles' story up to the filming of Kane, McGilligan does describe aspects of the filming his first Hollywood movie while telling the story of its pre-production. These chapters are among the most interesting, because they show how deeply the roots of the filmmaker's childhood, education, early work and relationships are embedded in his first movie. In many ways, it would be his most personal work.

Young Orson would have been more effective had it ended with the director's first call to action on the set of Kane. The final chapter is a weak spot, full of interesting tidbits about the later years of his life and those who were close to him, but gathered in a jumble of incidents and anecdotes which lacks the flow of the rest of the book. It is possible that everything shared here could have been expanded into yet another biography about the last years of Welles' life.

Overall this is a stunning work. Drawing heavily on previous Welles biographies, including Simon Callow's acclaimed work and Barbara Leaming's version which was supported by the director, McGilligan prods at some of the assertions in these works, often correcting or at least thoughtfully question the record. Along with Harlan Lebo's Citizen Kane: A Filmmaker's Journey and Josh Karp's The Making of The Other Side of the Wind: Orson Welles' Last Movie, I find it to be a deeply satisfying portrait of one of the many artist phases of this unique craftsman.

Many thanks to Harper for providing a copy of the book for review.

On Blu-ray: Judy Holliday and Dean Martin Charm in Bells Are Ringing (1960)

Director Vincent Minnelli's Bells Are Ringing (1960) has its fans, but I've never felt this musical gets the love it deserves. Perhaps stars Judy Holliday and Dean Martin don't offer vocal or dancing pyrotechnics, but they are nevertheless perfectly suited to the genre, giving performances that are uniquely charming and laid back. Now available on Blu-ray from Warner Archive, I recently had the chance to revisit the jaunty tunes and lively humor of this irresistible film.

Holliday is Ella Peterson, an operator at the small-time Brooklyn answering service Susanswerphone. She is constantly irritating company owner Sue (Jean Stapleton), by becoming inappropriately involved with the customers. Ella can't help her big-hearted self: when she has a hot tip, she gives it; when she thinks a dentist should drop his practice and pursue his songwriting dreams, she uses her connections to make it happen. Her favorite customer is playwright Jeffrey Moss (Dean Martin), for whom she adopts the persona of a grandmotherly character he calls "Mom".

Of course the pair can't remain strangers forever. After logging plenty of time making dreams come true for her clients, Ella settles into finding her own happy ending. Her romance with Jeffrey, buoyed by a pair of amusing side plots, carries the rest of the film.

The score, with music by Jule Styne (Gypsy [1962], Funny Girl [1968]) and lyrics by Holliday's longtime friends and former stage mates Betty Comden and Adolph Green, is bouncy, lively and often seems more carefree than it really is. While Better Than a Dream and Mu Cha Cha are blithely joyful, the airy feel of I Met a Girl and It's a Perfect Relationship conceal a lonely vein of sadness. Just in Time is the one bonafide classic in the score; it's slick, jazzy tone is a perfect fit for Martin and Holliday adds wonderful eccentricity to this version. Perhaps the most moving moment though is Holliday's rendition of The Party's Over, which is melancholy enough on its own, but is downright tear-jerking when you realize that this is the star's last film and breast cancer would take her life only a few years later.

While many musical fans don't concern themselves too much with the bits between numbers, it's always nice when the comedy is as good as the production numbers. A bubbly supporting cast, with Stapleton as the exasperated standout, is a colorful counterpoint to the well-matched Martin and Holliday. Always funnier with somebody to play off of, the singer is greatly boosted by Holliday's warmly comic manner.

What a shame Judy Holliday didn't make more musicals; she is such a purely loveable star and music lifts her that much higher. Her unpretentious manner takes the air out of the snobs in Jeffrey's shallow showbiz crowd. Comic bits like a scene on a busy New York City crosswalk where Ella decides to introduce herself to some of the grim-faced people in the crowd, and her amusing turn as a bohemian in an underground club, all end up making the film longer and busier than it needs to be, but Minnelli keeps things moving and it is hard not to be greedy for more Holliday.

The Blu-ray is presented with sharp, clear sound and a good image that shows the bright hues of this typically plush MGM musical to nice advantage. Special features on the disc include a featurette, outtakes and alternate versions of musical numbers 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: Late Career Robert Mitchum in The Yakuza (1974)

Robert Mitchum is extremely moving in The Yakuza (1974), a modern noir directed by Sydney Pollack, and one of the star's late career triumphs. This elegantly melancholy film is now available on Blu-ray from Warner Archive.

Mitchum is Harry Kilmer, a former private eye who is summoned to Tokyo by former Marine MP buddy George Tanner (Brian Keith), who he knew during the post-war occupation. He asks his friend to help him deal with the machinations of Yakuza members looking for leverage in a gun deal. Settling in with another Marine pal, Oliver Wheat (Herb Edelman), he enlists the help of former Yakuza Ken (Ken Takakura), whom he finds by visiting former lover Eiko (Keiko Kishi), whom he has been told is the man's sister.

Ken resents Kilmer for his relationship with Eiko in the post-war years, but the PI helped to save her and her daughter's life, so he feels a sense of giri, a term meaning he has an unpayable debt to Harry. Things get bloody and complex, and secrets from the past come up to surprise and hurt Kilmer. He gets in over his head quickly, but following Ken's lead, he learns to face his fears with honor and respect for the traditions of the country in which he is a guest.

I'm fascinated by Mitchum's late career work, which has a wonderful gravity and sincerity. Here, as in films like The Big Sleep (1978) and The Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973), he is somber and focused. You feel the weight of age on him, but not that he is a fading star. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he never descended into camp or roles that didn't suit his abilities as he aged. Instead, he abandons some of the laconic cool of his younger years to create more realistic and fully realized performances. Both sides of Mitchum are marvelous, even complementary.

In The Yakuza, he is all these things, making you feel his Harry Kilmer right to the core of the man. While it helps to have his background story, as told by Wheat while Kilmer essentially walks to the next chapter of the tale, you almost don't need the information. Mitchum achingly communicates the love and passion of his past and the regrets that have stayed with him over the years.

As Harry barges through paper screens and blows away Yakuza thugs with his gun, you can almost feel the man's shame about his bombastic American ways. In contrast, Ken slides through murderous scenes with his razor-sharp blade, giving the mayhem an almost ceremonial feel. 

You get this sense of ceremony and tradition in the film as well. It has a steady, solemn tone that so infuses the proceedings that even the few explosives scenes of violence have an odd feeling of control.

The Yakuza is an interesting title, because this is really a three-hander between Eiko, Ken and Harry. They are not fazed by the violence around them, because it isn't shocking to them; it matches their inner turmoil. Being reunited, they realize they have not resolved their past issues and that they cannot abandon the old ways of thinking in facing them. Harry understands this most of all.

This is such an unusual film. Though it is made up of familiar elements, the pieces are put together with more sensitivity for the characters than the workings of the plot. I think that's what makes it special.

A decent print shows off the muted tones of the cinematography, capturing the details of Yakuza tattoos and hues of the odd splashes of color in a mostly somber setting. The disc includes a fascinating featurette about the film made at the time of its production, a trailer and commentary by director Pollack.

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

Book Review--The Art of Selling Movies

The Art of Selling Movies
John McElwee
GoodKnight Books, 2017

In the early years of cinema, movie theater owners in cities and towns across the USA found that drawing crowds was just as much an art as the film itself. Before radio ads and TV commercials, pen and ink advertisements in print media were the primary tool for attracting an audience to the latest release. In The Art of Selling Movies, Greenbriar Picture show blogger, author, and film historian John McElwee shares sixty years of ads and the history behind them.

Many of the ads are from McElwee's own collection, the result of an obsession that started in childhood. The images are beautifully restored, reportedly due to new technology which enabled the full restoration of details. This is important, because seeing all the elements, from the fine points of faces, to the tiny print of sensational ad copy, to the delicate background patterns and dramatic fonts, is key to appreciating this form that McElwee calls a "folk art".

The preface and introduction to the book are kind of rough going, both could have used a good edit, which is a shame, because they offer fascinating information about the history and evolution of newspaper movie ads. The rest of the book is all advertisements and other promotional images, with shorter, and more comprehensible blurbs that share a remarkable amount of information given their brevity.

The ads presented cover the heyday of newspaper film advertising, from the silents to the early sixties, when television took over shilling for cinemas. Seen all together, this is a fascinating document of changing times, covering jaunty silents, racy pre-codes, and the dark film noir of post-World War II, all the way to the swinging sixties. You see how much has changed in those years, but also how similarly the methods of sex and sensation are used across decades.

McElwee shares interesting tidbits about the way ads were used in various decades and even how they were made. He describes circuit artists creating remarkably detailed work for small town theater owners, who would use their own creativity to make ads memorable and impossible to resist. There were tricks of the trade, like arranging the most important image in the top right or center of the ad and always making sure actors were portrayed looking into the ad, as a gaze towards the edges could take a reader's attention along with it.

For the most part the book is easy on the eyes, with varied layouts and clean lines. Some pages can get a little crowded, with too many ads competing for attention, but for the most part this is a pleasing visual presentation.

I thought this was a great education in early print film advertising. It was mesmerizing to examine all the details in these ads which were created with care, only to be discarded a week later. Thank heaven there are historians like McElwee who cared enough to preserve this interesting bit of film history.

Many thanks to GoodKnight Books for providing a copy of the book for review.