1940 - The Philadelphia Story

I remember when television shows would screen the end credits in their entirety. Often, there was a voice over while the credits rolled, promoting another show on the same channel. Fair enough. A little while ago, to capitalise on advertising time, some channels began squishing the credits to one side of the screen and presenting a video promo on the other side. Okay, no biggie. But recently I witnessed what must be the conclusion to this escalation. I saw the next show begin as the previous show's credits flashed in a tiny font at the bottom of the screen. Now, that's efficiency.

Yesterday, I had a chance to watch another classic from 1940's Best Picture ballot...

The Philadelphia Story

Director:

George Cukor

Screenplay:

Donald Ogden Stewart

(based on the play by Philip Barry)

Starring:

Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, James Stewart, Ruth Hussey, John Howard

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

2 wins, including Best Actor (Stewart)

Tracy Lord (Hepburn) is an upper-class socialite set to wed the dependable George Kittredge (Howard). Tracy's ex-husband, the arrogant yet suave C.K. Dexter Haven (Grant), shows up the day before the nuptials to stir up some trouble. He brings with him a reporter Macaulay Connor (Stewart) and a photographer Liz Imbrie (Hussey), who are both introduced as "friends of the family" in order that they can secretly cover the wedding of the year. But the evening brings a few surprises, mostly induced by the flow of alcohol, and with three men in her vicinity, Tracy begins to doubt where her affections truly lie.

The entertainment value of The Philadelphia Story lies mostly within its words and its performances. Another adaptation of a stage play, the picture unsurprisingly sees very little action and an abundance of dialogue. Indeed, once the main plot has been set up, not much happens other than conversation. Fortunately, all this talk is delightfully witty, with such gems as Tracy's line regarding her first marriage, "I thought it was for life, but the nice judge gave me a full pardon." Additionally, the words are delivered in a typically effective fast-paced manner. Thus, despite the lack of major activity, there are no lulls and the film feels a lot shorter than it is. The ending may feel a touch too neat, but this is a romantic comedy, after all, so it is an appropriate conclusion, sure to put a heartwarming smile on the faces of fans of the genre.

The three leads are a major reason why this picture has remained such a classic. Grant, Hepburn and Stewart (pictured) are all at the top of their respective games. Stewart, in particular, provides plenty of laughs with his adorable drunken behaviour. Ruth Hussey successfully holds her own amongst that famous trio. Playing Tracy's younger sister Dinah is Virginia Weidler, also seen in another 1940 Best Picture nominee All This, and Heaven Too. Here, she proves her talent, delivering a mature performance, including a delightful rendition of one of Groucho Marx's signature tunes, Lydia the Tattooed Lady.

1940 - All This, and Heaven Too

It is undoubtedly summer in Pennsylvania. This week, the heat has been almost unbearable, topping 38 degrees Celsius, which sounds much more powerful and effective when expressed in Fahrenheit: It's a hundred degrees! As I write this, the weather gadget on my computer desktop is displaying the temperature in Boiling Springs as N/A. I can only assume that the intense heat has broken the recording instruments.

Yesterday, I remained indoors as much as possible, where I watched another film from the selection of 1940's Best Picture nominees...

All This, and Heaven Too

Director:

Anatole Litvak

Screenplay:

Casey Robinson

(based on the novel by Rachel Field)

Starring:

Bette Davis, Charles Boyer, Barbara O'Neil, Jeffrey Lynn

Academy Awards:

3 nominations

0 wins

Mademoiselle Henriette Deluzy (Davis) is the new French teacher at a girls school in mid-nineteenth-century England. Her first day is marred by taunts from her impudent students, who have heard rumours that their teacher was involved in a tragic and sordid scandal, forcing her to leave France. Rather than let the gossip run wild, Deluzy throws away the lesson plan for the day and attempts to set the record straight by narrating her own version of the story.

Several years ago, Mademoiselle Henriette Desportes (as she was known before scandal forced her to change her name) served as governess to the four children of Duc de Praslin (Boyer) and his capriciously moody wife, the Duchesse de Praslin (O'Neil). While Henriette wins the hearts of all the children, she is subjected to the Duchesse's constant emotional episodes. This erratic behaviour has already pushed the Duc away from his wife and he is now secretly smitten with Henriette, who just as secretly reciprocates. Although both dare not act on their feelings, stifling any urges they have, the Duchesse's paranoia translates into bitter jealousy, making life miserable for everybody involved.

The opening of All This, and Heaven Too successfully sets up an intriguing mystery, releasing just the right amount of information so as to make the audience want more. It is this gossip in all of us that delights in uncovering the facts of any juicy scandal, so when Henriette begins to tell her tale, we can't wait to hear all the sordid details. It turns out, however, that the story is actually heart-breakingly poignant, but by the time we have heard it all, we are so invested in the characters, that we can forgive the lack of sordidness.

The screenplay is a prime example of the power of inference. Just like a good British period drama about forbidden love (the ones that Merchant-Ivory do so well), this picture manages to communicate the strong desire and yearning of its two lead characters without having them say a word about it. The love affair between Henriette and the Duc is understated, full of longing looks and subtext-filled metaphors, without any overt mention that they are even attracted to each other. Other people gossip about the pair, but neither Henriette nor the Duc ever let slip their true feelings. Until the end, of course - and I'm about to ruin it for you now - when the Duc makes a deathbed confession of his deep affection for Henriette, a passionate declaration that is made all the more satisfying due to the fact that he has remained so silent about it up until that point. It is like an enormous weight has been lifted and all the tension that has pervaded the story's atmosphere simply fades away.

Bette Davis and Charles Boyer are both superb in their subtlety. Barbara O'Neil (who you may remember as Scarlett O'Hara's mother) is frighteningly convincing as the crazy bitch, earning herself the film's only acting nomination. You may also recognise Isabelle, the eldest daughter. That's 60s sitcom mom June Lockhart. And I cannot go without mentioning Richard Nichols as the youngest child, Reynald, who is possibly the cutest child to appear on screen. He even manages to remain adorable while delivering (in an equally adorable Southern drawl) the morbidly philosophical line, "But my white rabbit died and I loved it better than the brown one that didn't."

1940 - Foreign Correspondent

Life in Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania is quiet. That much is certain. While I enjoy that silence in comparison to the unrelenting noise of New York City, it is accompanied by few options in the way of entertainment. Quiet towns, I guess, are quiet specifically because there is not much going on. Not that I want to discourage people from visiting. I hear there's a very fine playhouse here with a couple of very entertaining shows this summer.

In my down time today, I watched another nominee from 1940's Best Picture shortlist...

Foreign Correspondent

Director:

Alfred Hitchcock

Screenplay:

Charles Bennett, Joan Harrison, James Hilton and Robert Benchley

Starring:

Joel McCrea, Laraine Day, Herbert Marshall, George Sanders, Albert Bassermann, Robert Benchley

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

0 wins

One of two Alfred Hitchcock films nominated for Best Picture in 1940, Foreign Correspondent begins innocently as a drama about New York Globe reporter Johnny Jones (McCrea), whose fresh assignment as a foreign correspondent is to travel to Europe and get the scoop on the impending war. Under the pen name Huntley Haverstock, our intrepid reporter soon becomes embroiled in political intrigue as he witnesses the murder of Dutch diplomat Van Meer (Bassermann) ... or does he? Haverstock uncovers a kidnapping plot at the heart of a larger conspiracy, but establishing it to those around him proves difficult even with the help of British reporter Scott ffolliott (Sanders), who is not at all concerned about his surname's lack of a capital letter. Somehow, during all this excitement, Haverstock also has time to fall in love with peace activist Carol Fisher (Day).

As Foreign Correspondent begins, there is no indication that this is an Alfred Hitchcock film. The opening prologue, written on screen, glorifies the role of the foreign correspondent, leading the audience to believe the ensuing drama will be a realistic portrayal of the sacrifices made by a man living away from home as he attempts to heroically inform the people of his home country of the most important news abroad. And the first twenty minutes or so of the film do well to maintain this charade. Then, suddenly, almost without warning, there is a cold-blooded public murder and our hero becomes involved in chasing the assassin. Throughout the course of the film, he escapes several attempts on his life, as well as surviving a plane crash. While many real-life foreign correspondents might find themselves in dangerous situations, especially in wartime, I suspect there are precious few who have dealt with these kinds of circumstances.

That is not a complaint, by the way. Hitchcock is well-known for surprising his audience, and the political assassination that sparks off the events of the film is enticingly unexpected. The scenes that immediately follow are classic Hitchcock, full of heart-stopping suspense, but the story disappointingly only allows for a few more sequences with that level of tension and, consequently, the picture drags a little in between these moments. The plot is not as simple as it could be and often includes characters making seemingly unjustifiable decisions. Nonetheless, Hitchcock shines when he is given the opportunity. The plane crash sequence is particularly brilliant.

Despite the story flaws, the dialogue is witty and playful, evidenced by an exchange between Haverstock and ffolliott, in which Haverstock informs the other man of Van Meer's death. ffolliott offers a typically British, "Bad show," to which Haverstock replies, "Couldn't be much worse from his point of view."

Joel McCrea as Haverstock is eager and charming. George Sanders plays the British reporter with his usual caustic brilliance. German actor Albert Bassermann delivers a moving performance as Van Meer that earned him a Best Supporting Actor nomination. Spotting Hitchcock's standard cameo is relatively easy in this one. He's on the street reading a paper (pictured) when Haverstock first notices Van Meer. And if I didn't know any better, I could have sworn that was Danny DeVito as the excitable Latvian.

1940 - The Long Voyage Home

Rehearsals are in full swing here at the Allenberry Playhouse in Boiling Springs, Pennsylvania. Fortunately, I have found some free time to continue this silly little project of mine. The poll to decide the next year of review is ready for your input and, considering there are ten nominees in the current year, I suspect you will have plenty of time to vote.

We begin the review of 1940's Best Picture contenders with...

The Long Voyage Home

Director:

John Ford

Screenplay:

Dudley Nichols

(based on the four Glencairn Plays by Eugene O'Neill)

Starring:

John Wayne, Thomas Mitchell, Ian Hunter, Barry Fitzgerald, Wilfrid Lawson, John Qualen, Ward Bond

Academy Awards:

6 nominations

0 wins

One of two John Ford films nominated for Best Picture in 1940, The Long Voyage Home follows the crew of the freighter SS Glencairn as they sail from the West Indies back home to Mother England with a shipment of explosives that they are secretly transporting to aid in the Allies' war effort. The motley crew consists of an Irish troublemaker (Mitchell), a simple Swedish farmboy (Wayne), a furtive ex-alcoholic (Hunter), a caustic steward (Fitzgerald) and a neurotic teetotaler (Qualen), amongst others. They battle through rough seas and enemy fire and, at one point, suspect one of their own of being a spy. Their onboard antics keep them sane, however, as they attempt to make it through ... (wait for it) ... the long voyage home.

Since the script is based on four one-act plays, the story feels decidedly episodic. All the "episodes" involve the same characters so there is still a sense of continuity, but at the same time, the picture is somewhat disjointed. However, taken on their own merits, each vignette stands up very well. In particular, the storyline revolving around the crew's suspicions of a spy in their midst is especially engrossing. Its climax contains the film's most moving moments.

There are several sections in The Long Voyage Home that play out with very few words spoken, making for some captivating cinema. Director John Ford is extremely adept at telling the story visually. In addition, the special effects employed during the storm sequence are effectively simple. Dumping vat loads of water on to the set is all it takes.

John Wayne, in the role of Olsen, is billed first, yet he hardly speaks two sentences until the final act. And the way the other characters treated him, I initially thought that Olsen was slow. Turns out he's just Swedish. Anyway, The Long Voyage Home is clearly an ensemble piece and the cast is very capable. Particularly memorable are John Qualen, Barry Fitzgerald and Thomas Mitchell (pictured). Qualen and Fitzgerald expertly provide the humour. And watching Mitchell has been one of the great joys of this project. Here, he adds to his other Matt vs. the Academy appearances with an absorbing portrayal of the unpredictable yet loyal Driscoll.

Best Picture of 2002

It's hardly worth mentioning any more, but yet again, I have reviewed five more excellent films. The 2002 crop of Best Picture contenders is an impressive assortment worthy of their nominations. My pick of the bunch was not an incredibly difficult decision, but it was a close call, nonetheless.

The nominees for Best Picture of 2002 are:

• Chicago
• Gangs of New York
• The Hours
• The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers
• The Pianist

The fascinating thing about this collection is the level of disillusionment one takes away from each film. Despite their artistic and entertainment value, each picture presents a relatively bleak view of life, sometimes leaving the audience with little faith in humanity. They each retain the positive aspects of their respective genres while introducing some darker themes to boot. Of course, there's nothing wrong with dark themes. The films are all very effective and touching. It's just interesting that they were all nominated together, that's all.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers achieves the awe and wonder inherent in a good fantasy film, but adds to it a good dollop of evil, which occasionally produces some surprisingly naturalistic pathos. The sole musical of the bunch, Chicago, succeeds in providing its genre's greatest assets. Indeed, its enthusiasm and excitement won over the Academy, yet it features as its leads a host of rather despicable characters. The Hours takes on depression as its main area of exploration, particularly the depression associated with the fear of leading a wasted life. It's hard to leave that one with a smile on your face.

Gangs of New York wears its violence on its sleeve, and its protagonist, although motivated by the desire to honour his father, could be more accurately described as being consumed with revenge. Finally, in The Pianist, we are presented with ignorant bigoted genocide, a more depressing theme is hard to find. While it may not have garnered Oscar's top prize (although, the Academy is not shy about its respect for Holocaust films), for its emotionally powerful journey, The Pianist will be declared my choice of Best Picture of 2002.

Best Picture of 2002
Academy's choice: Chicago	Matt's choice: The Pianist

Your choice:

Vote for your own favourite with the poll above. We move now to another year of ten nominees by reviewing the films up for consideration in 1940, a collection which happens to include a number of classics.

And the nominees for Best Picture of 1940 are:

• All This, and Heaven Too
• Foreign Correspondent
• The Grapes of Wrath
• The Great Dictator
• Kitty Foyle
• The Letter
• The Long Voyage Home
• Our Town
• The Philadelphia Story
• Rebecca

My current rehearsal schedule may begin to encroach on my movie-watching duties, so please don't be surprised if there is a short delay before we get to these fine films. I'll do my best to keep the hiatus to a minimum.