CinemaScope One
STUPENDOUS IN ’SCOPE
John Howard Reid
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Howard Reid at Smashwords
Copyright (c) 2011 by John Howard Reid
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Original text copyright
2011 by John Howard Reid. All rights reserved.
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Books in the “Hollywood Classics” series:
1. New Light on Movie Bests
2. “B” Movies, Bad Movies, Good Movies
3. Award-Winning Films of the 1930s
4. Movie Westerns: Hollywood Films the Wild, Wild West
5. Memorable Films of the Forties
6. Popular Pictures of the Hollywood 1940s
7. Your Colossal Main Feature Plus Full Supporting Program
8. Hollywood’s Movie Miracles of Entertainment
9. Hollywood Gold: Famous Films of the Forties and Fifties
10. Hollywood “B” Movies: A Treasury of Spills, Chills & Thrills
11. Movies Magnificent: 150 Must-See Cinema Classics
12. These Great Movies Won No Hollywood Awards
13. Movie Mystery & Suspense
14. Movies International: America’s Best, Britain’s Finest
15. Films Famous, Fanciful, Frolicsome and Fantastic
16. Hollywood Movie Musicals
17. “Hollywood Classics” Index Books 1-16
18. More Movie Musicals
19. Success in the Cinema
20. Best Western Movies
21. Great Cinema Detectives
22. Great Hollywood Westerns
23. Science-Fiction & Fantasy Cinema
24. Hollywood’s Classic Comedies
25. Hollywood Classics Title Index to All Movies Reviewed in Books 1-24
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Additional Movie Books by John Howard Reid
CinemaScope
One: Stupendous in ’Scope
CinemaScope
Two: 20th
Century-Fox
CinemaScope 3:
Hollywood Takes the Plunge
Mystery, Suspense, Film Noir and Detective Movies on DVD: A Guide to the Best in Cinema Thrills
Silent Films & Early Talkies on DVD
WESTERNS: A Guide to the Best (and Worst) Western Movies on DVD
British Movie Entertainments on VHS and DVD
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Table of Contents
Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1960)
All This and Money Too (see “Love Is a Ball”)
And Woman Was Created (see “And God Created Woman”)
Another Time, Another Place (1958)
B
Barbarian and the Geisha (1958)
Black Shield of Falworth (1954)
C
Campaign Burma (see “Never So Few”)
Cent mille dollars au soleil (1965)
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (1968)
D
E
Et Dieu Crea la Femme (see “And God Created Woman”)
F
Fall of Lola Montes (see “Lola Montes”)
Figlio di Cleopatra (see “Son of Cleopatra”)
G
Greed in the Sun (see “Cent mille dollars au soleil”)
Guns of the Magnificent Seven (1969)
H
I
J
K
L
M
N
Night of the Quarter Moon (1959)
O
Oh! For a Man! (see “Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?”)
P
Peking Medallion (see “Corrupt Ones”)
R
Robin and the Seven Hoods (1964)
S
Saboteur—Code Name Morituri (see “Morituri”)
Sait-On Jamais (see “No Sun in Venice”)
Sins of Lola Montes (see “Lola Montes”)
Space Travelers (see “Marooned”)
T
Tess of the Storm Country (1960)
20,000 Leagues under the Sea (1954)
23 Paces to Baker Street (1956)
U
V
W
When the Devil Drives (see “No Sun in Venice”)
Where Were You When the Lights Went Out? (1968)
Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957)
Witness for the Defence (see “Johnny Nobody”)
Wreck of the Mary Deare (1959)
Y
Year of Living Dangerously (1982)
You Can’t Run Away From It (1956)
Z
Zany Adventures of Robin Hood (1984)
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For descriptions of various ’Scope processes, and other ’Scope information, see YOU LUCKY PEOPLE.
For a listing of Fox’s first twenty CinemaScope shorts, see VESUVIUS EXPRESS.
For a short account of Regal Films, see MORITURI
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Welcome
Welcome to the first book in a series detailing The CinemaScope Revolution. As this survey serves as an Introduction to the whole series, I have tried not to focus on most of the well-known CinemaScope blockbusters like “The Robe”, “How To Marry a Millionaire”, “The King and I”, etc. These I have saved for a later book that specifically homes in on the Revolution’s initiator and leader, 20th Century-Fox. 3-D, of course, is an intrinsic part of the Revolution, as are non-anamorphic widescreen innovations such as Metroscope and VistaVision. Here, I have lined up many of the usual suspects, including:— the popular successes like “No Sun in Venice”, “The Black Shield of Falworth”, “Auntie Mame”, “And God Created Woman”, “Lola Montes”, “Manhattan”, “Hombre”, “Man of the West”, “Pal Joey”, “Year of Living Dangerously”, “Star Wars” and “Comanche Station”, nearly all of which have managed to retain a considerable cult following today; the films that I admire personally such as “Love Is a Ball”, “Raggedy Ann and Andy”, “Inferno” and “Johnny Nobody”; the mixed blessings that both picturegoers and critics raved on about at the time, but that have since passed into obscurity; the movies I’ve always hated like “Merry Andrew” and “Up Periscope”; plus a few disasters that everyone wants to forget (especially Doris Day). And the historically important, “You Lucky People.”
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Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Eddie Hodges (Huckleberry Finn), Archie Moore (Jim), Tony Randall (the king), Mickey Shaughnessy (the duke), Patty McCormack (Joanna Wilks), Neville Brand (Finn), Judy Canova (sheriff’s wife), Andy Devine (Carmody), Sherry Jackson (Mary Jane Wilks), Buster Keaton (lion tamer), Finlay Currie (Captain Sellers), Josephine Hutchinson (Widow Douglas), John Carradine, Dean Stanton (slave catchers), Royal Dano, Fred Coby (sheriffs), Parley Baer (Grangerford man), Dolores Hawkins (river boat singer), Sterling Holloway (barber), Minerva Urecal (Miss Watson), Sam McDaniel (servant), Henry Corden, Fred Kohler, Jr (mates), Roy Glenn (drayman), Rickey Murray (cabin boy), Patric Whyte (Uncle Harvey), Virginia Rose (woman at circus), Eddie Fetherstone (townsman).
Director: MICHAEL CURTIZ. Screenplay: James Lee. Based on the 1884 novel by Samuel Langhorne Clemens [Mark Twain]. Photographed in CinemaScope and Eastman Color by Ted McCord. Film editor: Frederic Steinkamp. Art directors: George W. Davis, McClure Capps. Costumes designed by Jack Martell. Songs by Burton Lane (music) and Alan Jay Lerner (lyrics). Music: Jerome Moross. Make-up: William Tuttle. Special effects: A. Arnold Gillespie. Sound recording: Franklin Milton. Producer: Sam Goldwyn, Jr. A Samuel Goldwyn Jr—Formosa Production. Location scenes filmed in Stockton, California, and on or near the Sacramento River, California.
Copyright 1960 by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. New York opening at Loew’s: 3 August 1960. U.S. release: May 1960. U.K. release: 14 August 1960. Australian release: 24 December 1960. 9,612 feet. 107 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: Hannibal, Missouri, 1840s: A daredevil youngster runs away from home.
COMMENT: This large cast, under the expert direction of Mike Curtiz, does more than justice to the Twain novel. In fact, with its beautiful photography, large budget and fine music score, one wonders why this really superior version of the Clemens’ classic has rarely been shown on TV (and then, of course, in a grossly mutilated version). As far as I’m aware, it’s not at present available on DVD either. Amazing! Episodes such as that on the deserted boat, tipped at a crazy angle, lapped by the green slime of the swamp, and the scene on board the steamer in which Finlay Currie expounds, in his delightfully resonant voice, the splendor and treachery of the Mississippi, are absolutely unforgettable.
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Brigitte Bardot (Juliette Hardy), Curd Jurgens (Eric Carradine), Jean-Louis Trintignant (Michel Tardieu), Charistian Marquand (Antoine Tardieu), George Poujouly (Christian Tardieu), Marie Glory (Madame Tardieu), Jeanne Marken (Madame Morin), Paul Faivre (Monsieur Morin), Jean Tissier (Monsieur Vigier-Lefrance), Jacqueline Ventura (Madame Vigier Lefrance), Isabelle Corey (Lucienne), Jean Lefebvre (man who wants to dance), Philippe Grenier (Perri), Jany Mourey (good woman), Jacques Ciron (Carradine’s secretary, Eric), Leopoldo Frances (dancer), Jean Toscano (René), Roger Vadim (a friend of Antoine), Claude Vega (Roger), Raoul J. Levy (a player).
Director: ROGER VADIM. Screenplay: Roger Vadim, Raoul J. Lévy. Photographed in CinemaScope and Eastman Color by Armand Thirard. Film editor: Victoria Mercanton. Assistant film editor: Suzanne Cabon. Art director: Jean André. Assistant art directors: Louis Née, Robert Florent, Marc Champion. Set decorator: Jean André. Assistant set decorators: Jean Forestier and Georges Petitot. Make-up: Hagop Arakelian. Music: Paul Misraki. Music director: Marc Lanjean. Songs: “Mon coeur éclate” [“My Broken Heart”] by Gilbert Bécaud and “Dis-moi quelque chose de gentil” [“Tell Me Something Nice”] by Solange Berry. 2nd unit director: Bernardi. Stills: Leo Mirkine. Script girl: Suzanne Durremberger. Assistant directors: Paul Feyder, Pierre Boursaus. Production administrator: Jacqueline Leroux-Cabuis. Production manager: Michel Choquet. Unit production manager: Claude Ganz. Sound recording: Pierre-Louis Calvet. Assistant sound engineers: Maurice Dagonneau, Georges Vaglio. Westrex Sound System. Producer: Raoul J. Lévy.
An Iena-UCIL-Cocinor Production, made in 1956. A Raoul J. Lévy Presentation. U.S. release through Kingsley International. New York opening at the Paris: 21 October 1957. U.K. release through Miracle. London opening at the Cameo-Royal: March 1957. U.K. general release: 17 June 1957. Australian release through Columbia: 11 April 1958. Sydney opening at the Victory. 95 minutes. Censored in the U.K. and Australia to 91 minutes and 90 minutes, respectively.
U.K. release title: And Woman... Was Created.
Original French title: Et Dieu Crea la Femme. Released in France by Cocinor.
SYNOPSIS: A boat-builder’s eighteen-year-old wife is in love with his older brother.
NOTES: Exterior locations in St Tropez.
First film directed by Roger Vadim (then the husband of Brigitte Bardot), a scriptwriter and former assistant director.
U.S./Canadian rentals grossed $4 million, making it one of the top twenty-five box-office attractions of the year.
COMMENT: For fans of Brigitte Bardot (and they are legion), this vehicle is an absolute must. Occasionally hoydenish BB dances up a storm, but mostly she just pouts, swaggers and sulks her way through a somewhat contrived, unsatisfying and unsatisfactory story of a teenager and her three admirers. Two of her lovers are just as unsympathetic and mixed-up as she is. In fact it’s hard to pick who is the least likeable — emotionally immature Jean-Louis Trintignant or viciously opportunistic Christian Marquand. In fact, the only player who manages to engage audience sympathy is Curd Jurgens who presents a nicely rounded study of a businessman distracted by our teenage tyrant.
Vadim has directed with a main eye on Miss Bardot and only a secondary glance at some magnificent St Tropez scenery. All the same, no doubt thanks to the skill and advice of cinematographer Thirard, he does manage to fill the CinemaScope screen attractively.
Despite its word-of-mouth reputation and its box-office success (particularly in France and the United States), Et Dieu Crea la Femme is not one of Vadim’s best films by any means. Nonetheless, he was soon to hit his stride with No Sun in Venice (see later in this book). Also worthy of note are the wonderfully exotic Barbarella (1968) and the tingling suspenser Pretty Maids All in a Row (1971) which features (in my opinion) Rock Hudson’s best performance.
OTHER VIEWS: The much-touted BB is on display here for all to see and admire. But frankly, she looks more provocative in the stills and posters outside the cinema than she does in the movie itself. It’s an uninspired little quadrangle tale in which a boring lot of unsympathetic characters posture pathetically against authentic St Tropez backgrounds. In the course of over ninety minutes, nothing much of interest happens. It’s one of these stories in which a lot of detailed groundwork is constantly being laid to give the audience the impression that something dramatically involving is just about to happen — but it never does. The businessman’s efforts to acquire waterfront land suddenly bear fruit halfway through by a simple stratagem (and why is the anchorage allegedly worth millions anyway?) and how come the Morins who are painted as villainous “step-parents” at the beginning and from whom we expect some dazzling opposition to BB’s plans, supportively change colour without any explanation? Even the long-awaited climax in which one of the leading characters gets shot proves an absolute fizzer.
— John Howard Reid writing as George Addison.
The early scenes indicate a sharp eye for social behaviour and a wry sense of humor. The subsequent plot manipulations are less convincing, thanks partly to an absence of depth in the characterization. Bardot’s acting has improved since her earlier pictures, but it still lacks force.
— Monthly Film Bulletin.
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Lana Turner (Sara Scott), Barry Sullivan (Carter Reynolds), Glynis Johns (Kay Trevor), Sean Connery (Mark Trevor), Sidney James (Jake Klein), Terence Longden (Alan Thompson), Doris Hare (Mrs Bunker), Martin Stephens (Brian Trevor), Julian Somers (hotel manager), John Le Mesurier (Dr Aldridge), Cameron Hall (Alfy), Robin Bailey (Captain Barnes), Bill Fraser (R.E. sergeant), Jane Welsh (Jonesy).
Directed by LEWIS ALLEN from a screenplay by Stanley Mann, based on the novel entitled “Another Time, Another Place” in the U.K. and “Weep No More” in the U.S.A. by Lenore Coffee. Photographed in VistaVision by Jack Hildyard. Film editor: Geoffrey Foot. Art director: Tom Morahan. Music composed by Douglas Gamley and conducted by Muir Mathieson. Title song (for U.S. version) by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans. Wardrobe: Laura Nightingale. Hair styles: Ann Box. Make-up: Stuart Freeborn. Assistant director: Rene Dupont. Production manager: John F. Workman. Camera operator: Jim Bawden. Set continuity: Lee Turner. Dubbing editor: Leslie Hodgson. Assistant producer for Lanturn company: Del Armstrong. Associate producer: Smedley Aston. Sound recording: Gerry Turner and J.B. Smith. Producer: Lewis Allen. Executive producers: Joseph Kaufman and Lana Turner.
A Kaydor/Lanturn Production released by Paramount. Australian release date: 4 July 1958. U.S. release date: June 1958. New York opening at Loew’s State: 2 May 1958. U.K. release: 2 June 1958. Running times: 95 minutes (8,593 feet) (U.K.); 98 minutes (U.S.); 75 minutes (Australia).
SYNOPSIS: In London during World War II, American newspaperwoman Sara Scott falls in love with BBC war correspondent Mark Trevor. Just as she is about to break her engagement to her employer, Carter Reynolds, she learns Mark has a wife and child. The next day Mark is killed in a plane crash and Sara suffers emotional collapse. After six weeks in a rest home, she visits the little village of Cornwall where he lived and meets his widow Kay. Keeping her association with Mark a secret, Sara helps Kay write a biography of her late husband. Eventually...
NOTES: Locations in the fishing village of Polperro, Cornwall. Interiors filmed at Elstree Studios, London.
COMMENT: Out of a dime-store women’s novel, Stanley Mann has constructed a screenplay of stupefying boredom, indifferently acted, and directed with suitable dullness. The film’s only attractive feature is Jack Hildyard’s black-and-white VistaVision photography, particularly of the locations in a small village in Cornwall. For a while there, it looked as if VistaVision was going to pose as a serious rival to CinemaScope, but this didn’t happen. The fact that VistaVision (a non-anamorphic process achieved by the simple expedient of running standard 35mm film horizontally – instead of vertically – through the camera) produced a much sharper image failed to impress audiences who were sold on the much wider ’Scope screen.
OTHER VIEWS: Fine players trying to force their way through the gloom of this sob story is indeed sad to see. Lewis Allen lacks the persuasive style of such directors as John Stahl and Frank Borzage who might have made something of it and his mediocrity permeates the whole production.
— E.V.D.
Despite some nice black-and-white views of a little Cornish village, (it) is a generally drab and sadly undistinguished film with strong leanings toward the soap opera genre... Incessant shots of telephones, radios, coffee cups, tea cups and door buzzers. This... can be quite telling a device for pointing up suspense in a dramatic story, but in this instance there simply isn’t enough drama to make such a device anything but boring.
— Paul V. Beckley in The N.Y. Herald Tribune.
Paramount is rushing release... hoping to pick up some business on current headlines. Film will need some such stimulant, because otherwise it is a weeper without anything special to recommend it... A conclusion that is neither satisfactory nor believable... Miss Turner is photographed beautifully... but she only occasionally cuts loose with the kind of dramatic fireworks the picture needs. Glynis Johns, less tenderly lensed, makes a poignant and convincing figure of the wife. Sean Connery, who gets ‘introducing’ billing... is obviously capable but plays somewhat pallidly for a romantic lead... Sidney James is a standout, bringing some needed humor to the otherwise soggy drama.
— “Powe” in Variety.
When Actress Turner’s name flashed on the screen, cheers rocked the galleries. The picture itself might more suitably be greeted with groans... Unfortunately Actress Turner is responsible for more than her own acting. As proprietor of the company that co-produced this picture, Cinemagnate Turner must also take some of the credit for the picture’s treacly taste, clumsy structure and prevailing mood of moral Lanarchy.
— Time.
A long way from making any contact with interests that might serve to entertain... Made in England by Joseph Kaufman, a fugitive from Hollywood, evidently as a part of the current Go-Home-Yank plan... Miss Turner’s performance does more credit to her hairdresser than it does to Lewis Allen, who directed.
— Bosley Crowther in The N.Y. Times.
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Audie Murphy (Jeff Stanton), Michael Dante (Red Hawk), Linda Lawson (Dawn Gillis), L.Q. Jones (Mike Greer), Ken Lynch (Hodges), Joseph A. Vitale (Victorio), Robert Brubaker (Sergeant Cobb), Eugene Iglesias (Corporal Ramirez), J. Pat O’Malley (Captain Thatcher), John Archer (Colonel Perry), Charles Watts (Crawford Owens), Howard Wright (Thompson), Peter Hansen (Captain Green), Robert Karnes (sheriff), Hugh Sanders (Arizona delegate), Sydney Smith (general of the army), S. John Launer (General Nelson), Robert B. Williams (Miller).
Director: WILLIAM WITNEY. Screenplay: Charles B. Smith. Photographed in DeLuxe Color by Arch R. Dalzell. Supervising film editor: Grant Whytock. Art director: Frank Sylos. Music: Richard La Salle. Production manager: Joseph Small. Sound: Lambert Day. Producer: Grant Whytock. Original story: Kenneth Gamett and Richard Schayer. Set decorator: Morris Hoffman. Make-up: Vincent Romaine. Hair styles: Gladys Witten. Wardrobe: Alexis Davidoff. Property master: Max Frankel. Assistant director: Herbert S. Greene. Music editor: Sid Sidney. Sound editor: James A. Richard.
Copyright 30 September 1964 by Admiral Pictures. Released by 20th Century-Fox. U.S. release: 30 September 1964. No New York opening. U.K. release: 16 November 1964. Australian release: 25 March 1965. 8,260 feet. 92 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: A racist army commander in Arizona, falls for a half-breed missionary.
NOTES: Crunch time for Fox. For the first time since 1953, the number of the studio’s non-CinemaScope releases exceeded the number of its CinemaScope movies. Here was a movie presented in an ordinary wide-screen format, a result that was achieved not with any special anamorphic lens. but by simply masking the top and bottom of the frame to achieve the desired wide-screen ratio. Mostly, the masking was actually left to the cinema, so sometimes the movie was simply projected on to the theater’s normal postage-stamp screen. In order to prevent this happening, meticulous directors asked the photographer to mask the film in the camera, so that even if projected on the old 1.33:1 screen, the 1.85:1 aspect ratio was preserved and carefully composed scenes were not compromised by a lot of waste space top and bottom. And in some cases, the sound boom actually penetrated this top space where normally it would be masked from view.
COMMENT: Yes, this entry does have a superior script to the usual run of Audie Murphy westerns, but it is saddled (hah!) with William Witney’s steadfastly routine and completely lackluster direction. Fortunately, Mr Witney’s usual reliable hand does come into play in the action sequences (despite obvious use of stock footage) and the climax itself is put across with a reasonable amount of well-judged suspense. A bit of location lensing also helps.
Performances are no more than adequate. To give you an indication of the general standard, it’s Charles Watts (of all people) who makes the running in his earlier scenes. Linda Lawson, admittedly, rates highly as an attractive girl, though her part is small, while Jones and Lynch make fairly convincing villains.
OTHER VIEWS: Like Showdown this is one of the better of the later Audie Murphy westerns. The central idea of an Indian-hating officer forced to protect the tribe is an intriguing one and it works out forcefully in such scenes as Murphy ordering the troops to fire on the whites who have just slaughtered the mission Indians, with the discovery that the girl is a half-breed still fresh. The direction is occasionally inventive (e.g. the gun blasting through the curtain) but the playing lacks conviction and the colour is so coarse-grained it looks like a blow-up from 16 mm.
— B.P.
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Rory Calhoun (Jim Walker), Corinne Calvet (Janice MacKenzie), John Russell (Vance Buckner), Lon Chaney (Charlie Russell), Gene Evans (Jess Cooney), DeForest Kelley (Toby Jack Saunders), Arthur Hunnicutt (Bill Gibson), Richard Arlen (Captain Gannon), Robert H. Harris (Hoyt Taylor), George Chandler (Jace Asher), Johnny Mack Brown (Sheriff Ben Hall), Robert Carricart (Chico Lopez), Jean Parker (Mrs Hawkes), Abel Fernandez (Apache chief), Donald Barry (Henry Belden), Paul Daniel (Chief Antone), and Reg Parton, Dan White, Ben Stanton, Roy Jenson, Rodd Redwing.
Director: R. G. SPRINGSTEEN. Screenplay: Harry Sanford, Max Lamb. Based on the novel “Way Station” by Harry Sanford and Max Steeber. Photographed in Technicolor and Techniscope by W. Wallace Kelley. Film editor: John Schreyer. Art directors: Hal Pereira, Franz Bachelin. Set decorations: Ray Moyer. Make-up: Wally Westmore, Del Acevedo. Hair styles: Nellie Manley, Dean Cole. Wardrobe: Veda Carroll, Tony Scarano. Music: Jimmie Haskell. Assistant directors: Dale Coleman, Bob Templeton. Production manager: Howard Roessell. Sound: Harry Lindgren. Producer: A. C. Lyles. Process photography: Farciot Edouart. Sound engineer: John Wilkinson.
Copyright December 1965 by A. C. Lyles Productions. Released by Paramount Pictures. No New York opening. U.S. release: January 1966. U.K. release: 14 March 1966. Australian release: 28 April 1967. 90 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: A stagecoach operator plans to rob a relay station of its gold.
NOTES: Locations in the Mojave Desert.
COMMENT: While not quite up to their usual actionful, briskly-paced standard, this A. C. Lyles/R. G. Springsteen western is worth seeing if only for the opportunity of renewing screen acquaintance with such a grand roster of veteran players, particularly John Russell as the criminal mastermind, Johnny Mack Brown as a self-seeking sheriff, Lon Chaney as a laughing stage driver and DeForest Kelley as a schizoid gunfighter. Arlen’s part is small, but Gene Evans is delightful as Kelley’s sidekick. Technically, the film shows signs of hasty shooting, particularly in its variable colour photography and obvious back projection. Production values are fair — though the film was made on a very limited budget, there is no utilization of stock footage.
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Rosalind Russell (Auntie Mame), Forrest Tucker (Beauregard Burnside), Coral Browne (Vera Charles), Fred Clark (Babcock), Roger Smith (Patrick Dennis), Patric Knowles (Lindsay Woolsey), Peggy Cass (Agnes Gooch), Jan Handzlik (Patrick Dennis as a child), Joanna Barnes (Gloria Upson), Pippa Scott (Pegeen Ryan), Lee Patrick (Mrs Upson), Willard Waterman (Upson), Robin Hughes (Brian O’Bannion), Connie Gilchrist (Norah Muldoon), Yuki Shimoda (Ito), Brook Byron (Sally Cato), Carol Veazie (Mrs Burnside), Henry Brandon (Acacius Page), Butch Hengen (Emory), Dub Taylor (veterinarian), Evelyn Ceder (woman in white), Doye O’Dell (Cousin Jeff), Terry Kelman (Michael), Morton DaCosta (Edwin Dennis), Rand Harper (pianist), Gregory Gay (Vladimir Klinkoff), Gladys Roach (Mrs Klinkoff), Booth Colman (Perry), Charles Heard (Dr Feuchtwanger), Paul Davis (stage manager), Olive Blakeney (dowager), Margaret Dumont (noblewoman), Owen McGiveney (man with monocle), Robert Gates (Lord Dudley), Mark Dana (Reginald), Dick Reeves (Krantz), Barbara Pepper (Mrs Krantz), Chris Alexander (Loomis), Ruth Warren (Mrs Jennings).
Director: MORTON DaCOSTA. Screenplay: Betty Comden, Adolph Green. From the stage play by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee, based on the novel by Patrick Dennis. Photographed in Technicolor and Technirama by Harry Stradling. Film editor: William Ziegler. Music composed by Bronislau Kaper, directed by Ray Heindorf. Art director: Malcolm Bert. Set decorations: George James Hopkins. Consultant for interior decor: Robert Hanley. Make-up supervision: Gordon Bau. Miss Russell’s make-up: Gene Hibbs. Hair styles: Myrl Stoltz. Costumes: Orry-Kelly. Assistant director: Don Page. Sound: M. A. Merrick. Producer: Jack L. Warner. Make-up artist: Robert J. Schiffer. Stunts: Roydon Clark.
Copyright 1958 by Warner Bros Pictures. New York opening at the Radio City Music Hall: 4 December 1958 (ran seven weeks). U.S. release: December 1958. U.K. release: 29 March 1959. Australian release: 17 March 1960 (sic). Sydney opening at the Regent. 12,898 feet. 143 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: Hoydenish, eccentric Auntie Mame raises her nephew, Dennis, after the death of his father.
NOTES: The stage play opened on Broadway at the Broadhurst Theatre on 31 October 1956, running a most successful 639 performances. Robert Fryer and Lawrence Carr produced and Morton DaCosta also directed the play. In the film, Russell, Cass, Handzlik and Shimoda recreate their stage roles... Other stage Auntie Mames: Greer Garson (Broadway), Bea Lillie (Broadway and London), Eve Arden (West Coast), Constance Bennett (Road Company), Sylvia Sidney (Road Company) and Shirl Conway (Summer Tents).
COMMENT: Like a great many other long-touted Broadway successes, Auntie Mame does not survive the translation to film. Morton DaCosta is chiefly to blame. His direction is not only inept, but dull. But the screenplay (a watered-down rather than an expanded version of the stage play), the garish photography, sets and costumes, the strident music score, and particularly Miss Russell’s heavily theatrical performance (she is repeating her Broadway role) also contribute. Admittedly, there are one or two laughs and maybe half-a-dozen dry smiles, but that’s not enough to justify this length. At least 30 minutes could come out. The best scenes are those involving Peggy Cass, who is here reprising her Broadway role.
OTHER VIEWS: This film is obviously DaCosta’s first and shows the unevenness and theatrical qualities which are apparent in decreasing amounts in his later work. It varies from the cinematic opening where the nephew is brought into the arty party to the Old Southern Home scenes played in opened-out proscenium style. This mixture of styles is disturbing at times — Knowles playing his scenes perfectly straight, the mountaineering death of the husband seen as comedy, etc. Stradling’s off-beat colour photography produces some striking effects from the kaleidoscope titles through the odd-ball apartment settings to the stage device of closing down the lighting to isolate a face.
— B.P.
I have been a life-long admirer of Rosalind Russell and it pains me to say she becomes a bit of a bore in... this Technirama flap-doodle. Maybe I’ve just had enough of Auntie Mame. ...Dennis’ novel was about as original and subtle as a Joe Miller’s joke book. Then there was the play, in which there wasn’t a vestige of characterization and the dialogue consisted of nothing but the lines of comedy skits. And now there’s this film... [Comden and Green] merely de-blued the play a little. And Morton DaCosta, who directed La Russell on the stage, has been allowed to direct her in this film. I suspect he’s never been to the movies, for his ignorance of things cinematic seems total.
— Ellen Fitzpatrick in Films in Review.
Whatever its faults, Auntie Mame on film is a very big sack of entertainment... Most of the sharp lines are intact (though an unaccountable lurch into poignancy now and then disturbs the old satirical flow) and the main point, the indestructible, freewhelming Auntie Mame, is still as frenzied as ever... It is hard to understand just why [the moviemakers] felt it necessary to let the story sag uncharacteristically into pathos in a number of sequences. Still nothing can really daunt the flamboyant Miss Russell, and when she sails onto the screen in a pair of her extraordinary pajamas and a Martini-tinted cape, flourishing a cigarette holder as long as a cane, the effect is electric and awesome.
— Paul V. Beckley in The New York Herald Tribune.
Still good fun, but the pace of the film never touches the wild frivolity of the stage version... Many of [Auntie Mame’s] actions and reactions, projected on the wide screen either in mid-shot or close-up, seem to be simply pasted in. The line of her movement is broken by the need to simulate cinematic movement through editing. The result, even with the dynamic Miss Russell on the screen most of the time, is a disturbingly static picture — made all the more so by the script’s few attempts to broaden out the play with scenes of a fox hunt or a dinner party in a gadget-filled room with all the machinery gone beserk.
— Arthur Knight in Saturday Review.
The film, like the play, is no more than a slick succession of ancient blackouts and vaudeville wheezes.
— Time.
The story is actually not very convincing, the characterizations of little depth, dialogue is really only a series of comedy skits.
— Variety.
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Bob Hope (Adam), Lana Turner (Rosemary Howard), Janis Paige (Dolores Jynson), Don Porter (Jynson), Jim Hutton (Larry Delavane), Paula Prentiss (Linda Delavane), Virginia Grey (Camille Quinlaw), Agnes Moorehead (Judge Peterson), Clinton Sundberg (Rodney Jones), Reta Shaw (Mrs Brown), John McGiver (Austin Palfrey), Florence Sundstrom (Mrs Pickering), Mary Treen (Mrs Freedman), Lee Goodman (Leland Quinlaw), Alan Hewitt (Backett), Tracy Stratford (Mrs McGonigle), Joy Monroe (Miss Voluptuous), Billy McLean (cab-driver).
Director: JACK ARNOLD. Screenplay: Valentine Davies, Hal Kanter, Charles Lederer. Story: Vera Caspary. Photographed in CinemaScope and Eastman Color by Joseph Ruttenberg. Film editor: Richard W. Farrell. Art directors: George W. Davis and Hans Peters. Costumes designed by Helen Rose. Music: Henry Mancini. Title song by Henry Mancini and Mack David. Make-up: William Tuttle. Assistant director: Erich von Stroheim Jr. Sound recording: Franklin Milton. Producer: Ted Richmond.
Copyright 23 October 1961 by Ted Richmond Productions. New York opening at the Capitol: 16 November 1961 (also U.S. release date). U.K. release: 17 December 1961. 9,797 feet. 109 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: Bestselling author is induced to write a book on how America lives, so he moves into Paradise Hill village to become chummy with the local housewives. His chief target, of course, is…
NOTES: The title song was nominated for a prestigious Hollywood award, losing out to Mancini’s own “Moon River”.
COMMENT: For the first half-hour, this is a very promising comedy. Not only do the wise-cracks come thick and fast, but they are delivered with Hope’s usual expertise. Unfortunately, the satire promised by the script is all too soon deflected into a very tame variation of the old mistaken identity gag. As if this wasn’t irksome enough, the pic also tries to turn Hope into a romantic lead. Needless to say, both ideas fall flat. In fact, after that initial promise, both undermine the movie and become very disappointing turns of events.
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Spencer Tracy (MacReedy), Robert Ryan (Reno), Anne Francis (Liz Wirth), Ernest Borgnine (Coley Trimble), Dean Jagger (Tim Horn), Walter Brennan (Doc Velie), Lee Marvin (Hector David) John Ericson (Pete Wirth), Russell Collins (Hastings), Walter Sande (Sam).
Director: JOHN STURGES. Screenplay: Millard Kaufman. Adapted by Don McGuire from a story by Howard Breslin. Photographed in CinemaScope and Eastman Color by William C. Mellor. Film editor: Newell P. Kimlin. Art directors: Cedric Gibbons and Makcolm Brown. Set decorators: Edwin B. Willis and Fred MacLean. Music: Andre Previn. Make-up: William Tuttle. Hair styles: Sydney Guilaroff. Special effects: A. Arnold Gillespie, Warren Newcombe. Color consultant: Alvord Eiseman. Assistant director: Joel Freeman. Sound supervisor: Wesley C. Miller. Associate producer: Herman Hoffman. Producer: Dore Schary.
Copyright 6 December 1954 by Loew’s Inc. A Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer picture. New York opening at the Rivoli: 1 February 1955. U.S. release: 7 January 1955. U.K. release: 28 March 1955. Australian release: 21 May 1955. Sydney opening at the St James. 7,305 feet. 81 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: A mysterious, one-armed stranger arrives at a lonely western whistle-stop. What’s his purpose? Why is he asking questions?
NOTES: Nominated for the following prestigious Hollywood awards: Best Actor, Spencer Tracy, who lost out to Ernest Borgnine’s performance, not in this picture, but Marty; Best Director, John Sturges, who lost out to Marty’s Delbert Mann; Best Screenplay, Millard Kaufman. This award was actually won, of course, by Paddy Chayefsky for Marty.
Number five in The Film Daily’s annual “Best Films” poll of USA and Canadian movie critics. Number four on the the National Board of Review’s list of the Best American Films of the Year.
Negative cost (excluding studio overheads): $1.2 million. Domestic rental gross: In excess of $3 million.
Re-made in 1960 as Platinum High School.
COMMENT: “Back in the early days of CinemaScope,” John Sturges tells us, “the wide, wide wide-screen was considered desirable only for enormous spectacles using thousands of people and mile-high sets. I thought it ought to be the other way around. Here I was with one man stuck in the desert. It occurred to me that the way to show the isolation of this one man in the desert was to use all this space, to surround him with space. The more space you have around him, the more you isolate him. And the more you isolate him, the more suspenseful your story becomes.” Of course, Spence wasn’t the only man in the town. He was the stranger, probing, asking questions, interacting with the tight-lipped townsmen who regarded him with suspicion, distrust, and even hate. Why? Under Sturges’ riveting direction, Bad Day at Black Rock comes across as an engrossingly suspenseful story, stunningly directed, atmospherically photographed and vividly enacted by a first-rate cast led by Spencer Tracy, Robert Ryan, Anne Francis and Ernest Borgnine.
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Doris Day (Josie Minick), Peter Graves (Jason Meredith), George Kennedy (Arch Ogden), Andy Devine (Judge Tatum), William Talman (Charlie Lord), David Hartman (Fonse Pruitt), Guy Raymond (Doc), Audrey Christie (Annabelle Pettijohn), Karen Jensen (Deborah Wilkes), Elisabeth Fraser (Widow Renfrew), Linda Meiklejohn (Jenny), Shirley O’Hara (Elizabeth), Timothy Scott (Klugg), Don Stroud (Bratsch), Paul Fix (Alpheus Minick), Harry Carey (Mooney), John Fiedler (Simpson), Robert Lowery (Whit Minick), Teddy Quinn (Luther Minick), Edward Faulkner (juror, livery man), Mike Lally (juror), James Seay (politician).
Director: ANDREW V. McLAGLEN. Screenplay: Harold Swanton. Photographed in Techniscope and Technicolor by Milton Krasner. Film editors: Otho S. Lovering, Fred A. Chulak. Music composed by DeVol, supervised by Joseph Gershenson. Songs: “Wait Till Tomorrow” by Gene De Paul (music) and Jack Lloyd (lyrics) sung by The Sun Set Group; “The Ballad of Josie” by Don Costa (music) and Floyd Huddleston (lyrics) sung by Ronnie Dante. Art directors: Alexander Golitzen, Addison Hehr. Set decorations: John McCarthy, James Redd. Gowns: Jean Louis. Make-up: Bud Westmore. Hair styles: Larry Germain. Miss Day’s hair styles: Barbara Lampson. Matte supervisor: Albert Whitlock. Stunt co-ordinator: Hal Needham. Production manager: Hal Polaire. Assistant directors: Terry Morse, Jr., Newt Arnold, John Anderson. Titles: National Screen Service. Sound: Waldon O. Watson, Frank H. Wilkinson. Producer: Norman MacDonnell. Executive producer: Martin Melcher. A Universal Picture.
Copyright 24 February 1967 by Universal Pictures. U.S. release: 12 January 1968. New York opening on a double bill with Counterpoint at neighborhood theatres: 13 March 1968. U.K. release: 12 May 1968. Australian release: 4 October 1968. Sydney opening at the Capitol (ran one week). 9,177 feet. 102 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: Accused and then acquitted of killing her husband, Doris Day tries to run a sheep farm, much to the amusement and/or dismay of the locals.
NOTES: Doris Day’s third last movie. After this one she made Where Were You When the Lights Went Out? (1968) and With Six You Get Egg Roll (1968).
COMMENT: Doris Day’s first western since Calamity Jane (1953) isn’t half as bad as most critics (including Doris herself) make out. It not only boasts bright color and sets, but our Day looks quite attractive. The support cast is worthwhile too, featuring wonderfully scatty performances by Andy Devine, William Talman, Paul Fix and John Fiedler (as a nervous storekeeper). One of the funniest touches is provided by the uncredited cafe proprietor whose eyes roll delightfully every time Miss Day moves from one accident to another in what is undoubtedly the film’s best scene. A pity director Andrew V. McLaglen’s control of the rest of the film is not as tight. George Kennedy is pretty well wasted, though he does figure in some exciting action highlights. Milton Krasner’s color photography also impresses as a major asset. One big disappointment, however, is that Doris herself doesn’t sing a note, the warbling chores being handled by The Sun Set Group and Ronnie Dante. DeVol’s excellent score, with its astute combination of familiar folk airs, would seem to provide some excellent opportunities for vocalizing, but this doesn’t happen. Ronnie Dante does an excellent job with the pleasant title tune, but this was no doubt added after the movie was completed, as the song is not used at all once the credits roll by.
OTHER VIEWS: Ballad of Josie was nothing more than a second-rate television western. A terrible movie!
—Doris Day.
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John Wayne (Townsend Harris), Eiko Ando (Okichi), Sam Jaffe (Henry Heusken), James Robbins (Lieutenant Fisher), Norman Thomson (ship’s captain), So Yamamura (Tamura), Morita (prime minister), Kodaya Ichikawa (Damiyo), Hiroshi Yamato (shogun), Fuji Kasai (Lord Hotta), Tokujiro Iketaniuchi (Harusha), Takeshi Kumagai (chamberlain), Kohichi Umino (Tamura’s aide), Minanogawa (giant Ronin), Rintaro Kaga (dwarf).
Director: JOHN HUSTON. Screenplay: Charles Grayson. Uncredited script contributors: Alfred Hayes, Nigel Balchin, John Huston. Screen story: Ellis St Joseph. Based on historical fact and the diaries of Townsend Harris. Photographed in CinemaScope and DeLuxe Color by Charles G. Clarke. Film editor: Stuart Gilmore. Music: Hugo Friedhofer. Art directors: Lyle Wheeler, Jack Martin Smith. Set decorators: Walter M. Scott, Don B. Greenwood. Executive wardrobe designer: Charles Le Maire. Make-up: Webb Overlander. Technical art advisor: Kisaku Itoh. Technical supervisor: Mitsuo Hirotsu. Japanese technical advisor: Kampo Yoshikawa. Script supervisor: Teinosuke Kinugasa. Dialogue coach: Minoru Inuzuka. Camera operator: T.L. Gubbins. Music director: Lionel Newman. CinemaScope lenses by Bausch & Lomb. Assistant director: Joseph E. Rickards. Assistant to producer: Paul Nakaoka. Sound recording: W.D. Flick, Warren Delaplain. Westrex Sound System. Producer: Eugene Frenke.
Copyright October 1958 by 20th Century-Fox Film Corporation. New York opening at the Paramount: 2 October 1958. U.S. release: 30 September 1958. U.K. release: 9 November 1958. Australian release: 13 November 1958. Sydney opening at the Regent (ran two weeks). 9,414 feet. 102 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: For 200 years, Japan had been “the forbidden empire,” turning away all foreigners, and abusing (and even killing) shipwrecked mariners. But in August, 1856, an American Navy frigate put into the tiny seaport of Shimoda. A longboat slowly made its way towards shore, carrying Townsend Harris (the first U.S. ambassador to Japan), his interpreter, Henry Heusken, and three Chinese servants. The city officials order Harris off, but he ignores the order and takes up residence in a ruined temple. The Japanese refuse to sell him food and keep his party under constant observation.
NOTES: Fox’s 114th CinemaScope movie, and the first American film to be photographed in its entirety (both indoors and outdoors) in Japan… Only film appearance of Eiki Ando… Although Fox reported a loss of only $2 million on a negative cost of $3.5 million, it’s hard to believe that worldwide rentals returned as much as $2.5 million (allowing an extra million to cover print, advertising and distribution expenses). No doubt John Wayne’s solid allure at the domestic box-office helped no end.
VIEWER’S GUIDE: Suitable for all, though parental guidance is advised.
COMMENT: Understandably, The Barbarian and the Geisha is one of the least popular of the big-budget CinemaScope movies. A preachy, reach-me-down tone is set right from the beginning, where a patronising, off-camera commentary explains both the action and Japanese dialogue for us. At least we are spared the verbal assault of Japanese peasants speaking pidgin English, but why are there no sub-titles?
As for Big John himself, he is not so much miscast as unbelievable. I feel he could have made a reasonably good fist of the role, despite the handicap of stilted and ridiculous dialogue, but he doesn’t even try. What’s worse, his fans are going to be mighty disappointed to find there’s so little action in the picture. True, the script does occasionally ring in a bit of humor, but humor without action for the true Wayne devotee is like mustard without meat.
Although often visually attractive, The Barbarian and the Geisha misses the pictorial richness of contemporary Japanese period films like Gate of Hell. In fact, by Huston’s high standards, the direction and camerawork could be described as comparatively unimaginative, even stodgy. You can see that a lot of money was spent. It’s right up there on the screen. But the result—ponderous, slow-moving, heavy-handed, patronisingly juvenile—will please neither Wayne’s fervent admirers nor the general, entertainment-seeking picturegoer.
OTHER VIEWS: John Wayne and Sam Jaffe are embarrassing… The art direction and set decoration were far below the high standard of Gate of Hell… Lionel Newman’s music score did not seem very appropriate.
—Films In Review.
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James Mason (Ed Avery), Barbara Rush (Lou), Walter Matthau (Wally), Robert Simon (Dr Norton), Christopher Olsen (Richie Avery), Roland Winters (Dr Ruric), Rusty Lane (La Porte), Rachel Stevens (nurse), Kipp Hamilton (Pat Wade), Betty Caulfield (Mrs La Porte), Virginia Carroll (Mrs Jones), Renny McEvoy (Jones), Bill Jones (Byron), Lee Aaker (Joe), Jerry Mather (Freddie), Portland Mason (Nancy), Natalie Masters (Mrs Tyndal), Richard Collier (milkman), Lewis Charles (Dr MacLennan), William Schallert (pharmacist), John Monoghan (cabby), Gus Schilling (druggist), Alex Frazer (clergyman), Mary McAdoo (Mrs Edwards), Mary Carver, Eugenia Paul (salesladies), Gladys Richards (laboratory nurse), David Bedell (X-ray doctor), Ann Spencer (nurse), Nan Dolan (Dr Norton’s nurse), Sid Melton (cabby), Mary Margaret Robinson (child).
Director: NICHOLAS RAY. Shooting script: Nicholas Ray and Clifford Odets. Based on a screen treatment by Cyril Hume and Richard Maibaum of an article, “Ten Feet Tall”, by Berton Roueche. [Describing an actual case history in the series, “Annals of Medicine”, the article appeared in “The New Yorker” magazine for September 19, 1955]. Photographed in CinemaScope and DeLuxe Color by Joe MacDonald. Film editor: Louis Loeffler. Art directors: Lyle R. Wheeler, Jack Martin Smith. Set decorators: Walter M. Scott, Stuart A. Reiss. Music composed by David Raksin. Music director: Lionel Newman. Music orchestrations: Edward B. Powell. Special photographic effects: Ray Kellogg. Color consultant : Leonard Doss. Wardrobe direction: Charles Le Maire. Costume design: Mary Wills. Make-up: Ben Nye. Hair styles: Helen Turpin. CinemaScope lenses by Bausch & Lomb. Assistant director: Eli Dunn. Sound recording: W.D. Flick, Harry M. Leonard. Westrex Sound System. Producer: James Mason.
Copyright August 1956 by 20th Century-Fox Film Corporation. New York opening at the Victoria: 2 August 1956. U.S. release: August 1956. U.K. release: 29 October 1956. Australian release: 15 November 1956. Sydney opening at the Century. 8,553 feet. 95 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: Based on an actual case history, this movie “dramatically poprtrays the evils of an indiscriminate use of drugs” such as cortisone and similar steroids like prednisone.
NOTES: Mason’s first film as a producer and Fox’s 59th CinemaScope feature.
COMMENT: All the controversy surrounding this film when it was first released has now been forgotten. Although there are still people in the community who would undoubtedly benefit by its message, the film must ultimately stand or fall by the power of its own dramatic story, the credibility of its characterizations, the realism of its acting, and the vigor of its direction. On all these counts, it fails dismally. The story is not forceful. It is dull, long and over-drawn. The characters come over as humdrum, uninteresting, pasteboard figures. They seem not bigger than life, but smaller. Much smaller. The acting, especially by the principals, is often unconvincing. And as for the direction, plodding and uninspired seem too mild to describe the lifeless, static, pedestrian and completely lacking in visual appeal picturization here presented by Nicholas Ray. To quote Rupert Butler: “Some of the CinemaScope set-ups are noticeably awkward and primitive. The use of the wider screen and color seem unnecessary.”
OTHER VIEWS: Downright tedious.
—The New York Times.
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Tony Curtis (Myles Falworth), Janet Leigh (Lady Anne), David Farrar (Earl of Alban), Barbara Rush (Meg Falworth), Herbert Marshall (Earl of Mackworth), Rhys Williams (Diccon Bowman), Daniel O’Herlihy (Prince Hal), Torin Thatcher (Sir James), Ian Keith (King Henry IV), Patrick O’Neal (Walter Blunt), Craig Hill (Francis Gascoyne), Leo Britt (Sir Robert), Gary Montgomery (Peter), Claud Allister (Sir George), Robin Camp (Roger Ingoldsby), Charles Fitzsimons (Giles), Maurice Marsac (Count de Vermois), Leonard Mudie (Friar Edward), Doris Lloyd (Dame Ellen), Lane Fuller (knight), Brett Halsey (squire), Harry Cording (captain of the king’s guard), Nelson Leigh (priest at Myles’ investiture).
Director: RUDOLPH MATE. Screenplay: Oscar Brodney. Based on the 1892 novel Men of Iron by Howard Pyle. Photographed in CinemaScope and Technicolor by Irving Glassberg. Technicolor color consultant: Monroe W. Burbank. Film editor: Ted J. Kent. Art directors: Alexander Golitzen and Richard H. Riedel. Set decorators: Russell A. Gausman and Oliver Emert. Costumes designed by Rosemary Odell. Hair styles: Joan St Oegger. Make-up: Bud Westmore. 2nd unit director: James C. Havens. Fencing master and stunt double for Tony Curtis: David Sharpe. Assistant stunt director: Robert F. Hoy. Music supervisor: Joseph Gershenson. Miss Leigh’s gold-dipped lace bodice lent by Countess Jalle Delees. Assistant director: Tom Shaw. Sound recording: Leslie I. Carey, Joe Lapis. Western Electric Sound Recording. Associate producer: Melville Tucker. Producer: Robert Arthur.
Copyright 13 September 1954 by Universal Pictures Co., Inc. A Universal-International Picture. New York opening at Loew’s State: 6 October 1954. U.S. release: September 1954. U.K. release: 8 November 1954. Australian release: 30 September 1955 (sic). 8,900 feet. 99 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: King Henry IV of England is dominated by the ambitious Earl of Alban. The Earl of Mackworth attempts to thwart his rival. Pawns in his strategy are the disgraced Myles Falworth and his sister, Meg, whose father was executed for treason.
NOTES: Universal’s first CinemaScope film was also released in a normal widescreen version… This is the second teaming of Tony Curtis and his real-life wife, Janet Leigh. Their first joint outing was in Paramount’s Houdini (1953).
COMMENT: For those of us who dote on the exploits of ye knightes of olde, The Black Shield of Falworth—especially in its richly pictorial CinemaScope version—is an absolute must. Howard Pyle’s once-famous novel is vigorously brought to teeming life by as fine a group of players as such derring-do ever assembled. True, the accents of Mr Curtis and Miss Leigh, don’t altogether conjure up the medieval courts and pageants of Merrie England, but really those momentary distractions are of small acount. What really matters is that both players not only look their parts but enter into their roles with enthusiasm and panache. This they definitely do. And of course no such piffling complaints can be leveled against the delightfully villainous David Farrar or suavely scheming Herbert Marshall and company. Here are 99 minutes packed with action and excitement, a bit of romance and even a jesting touch or two of welcome humor. And all not only briskly paced by director Rudolph Maté, but also most colorfully and vividly photographed by Irving Glassberg (a much under-rated cinematographer, if ever there was one).
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Guy Madison (Steve), Rhonda Fleming (Cheyenne), James Griffith (Karp), Don Beddoe (judge), Peter Adams (Parnell), Dan Sheridan (Podo), Burt Nelson (Pine Hawk), Al Terr (Lem), Tim Graham (Pete), Hank Worden (Tex), Rick Vallin (marshal), Wayne Mallory (Larry), Barbara Woodell (Mrs Mason), Rush Williams (Judd), Don Shelton (hotel keeper), Jack Reynolds (sheriff), Frank Griffin (Keeler), J. W. Cody (Indian chief), Jack Carr (Trimble), Saul Gorss (Deputy Luke).
Narrated by Rhonda Fleming.
Director: HARMON JONES. Screenplay: Adele Buffington. Executive producer: William F. Broidy. Photography: John J. Martin. Editor: Thor Brooks. Sound: Al Overton. Production supervisor: Erwin Yessin. Assistant director: Ralph Slosser. Set decoration: Herman Schoenbrun. Art direction: George Troast. Set continuity: Eleanor Donahoe. Wardrobe: Bert Henrikson. Costumes: Marjorie D. Corso. Make-up: Carlie Taylor. Music: Leith Stevens. Title song: Hal Hooper and James Griffith; sung by Frankie Laine. Filmed on location in Sonora and Angels Camp, Calif. CinemaScope. DeLuxe Color. Dialogue director: David Bond. Property master: Arthur Wasson. A Romson-Broidy Production for Allied Artists. Producer: Helen Ainsworth.
Copyright 1958 by Romson-Broidy Productions. No New York opening. U.S. release: 25 May 1958. U.K. release through Associated British-Pathé: 30 November 1958. Australian release through Paramount: 21 April 1960 (sic). 81 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: Too-cute western version of “The Taming of the Shrew” stars Madison as a man about to hang for a crime he didn’t commit. At the last moment he is saved if he will marry a woman, Fleming, and then disappear. The grateful man agrees, but his curiosity is peaked and he follows Fleming back to her home.
— Motion Picture Guide.
NOTES: Re-made as Goin’ South (1978).
COMMENT: In a word: Dull. Miss Buffington (alias Jess Bowers) is a staple contributor to B-grade oaters. The accent is firmly on talk-talk-talk as much as possible, inside some of the smallest interior sets ever to penetrate the CinemaScope screen. Jones’ direction is as tedious as the dialogue, his only concession to competence being to often stage speeches with characters at either end of a table. There are two or three bursts of mild action with stunt men very obviously doing the honors. Aside from James Griffith’s likeable, drawling bushwacker, the support cast is even more charmless and wooden than the leads. Photography is washed out and exterior locations are dull. In all, a wearisome and eminently unwatchable effort from Poverty Row.
OTHER VIEWS: Aside from James Griffith, even the villains are a dull lot, both in writing and playing. Something could have been made of the Griffith relationship with our heroes but little — disappointingly — is developed.
— G.A.
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Rock Hudson (Michael Martin), Barbara Rush (Aga Doherty), Jeff Morrow (John Doherty), Kathleen Ryan (Lady Anne More), Finlay Currie (Callahan), Denis O’Dea (Regis Donnell), Geoffrey Toone (Captain Hood), Hilton Edwards (Lord Glen), Sheila Brennan (waitress), Harry Goldblatt (Brady), Charles B. Fitzsimons (Dan Shanley), Christopher Casson (Lord Clonmel), Philip O’Flynn (Trim), Shay Gorman (Tim Keenan), Kenneth MacDonald (Desmond, high steward), Robert Bernal (Clagett), Louise Studley (Cathy), James G. Devlin (Tuer O’Brian), Mike Nolan (Willie the Goat), Edward Aylward (Big Tom), Lord Mount Charles (English gentleman), Lady Mount Charles (English lady), George Blankley (the dragoon), Peter Dix (dragoon lieutenant), Paul Farrell (the magistrate), Nigel Fitzgerald (Sir George Bracey), Aiden Grennell (the umpire), Edward Lexy (army general), Oliver McGauley (Shamus O’Neill), Austin Meldon (Sir Edward Grant), Sean Mooney (surgeon), Philomena Tubridy (ballroom flirt).
Directed by DOUGLAS SIRK. Based on the novel by W.R. Burnett. Screenplay: W.R. Burnett and Oscar Brodney. Original music composed by Heinz Roemheld, Hans J. Salter, Frank Skinner and Herman Stein. Cinematography: Irving Glassberg in Technicolor and CinemaScope. Film editing: Frank Gross. Art direction: Alexander Golitzen, Eric Orbom. Set decorations: Oliver Emert, Russell A. Gausman. Costume design: Bill Thomas. Hair stylist: Joan St Oegger. Make-up: Bud Westmore. Assistant director: John Sherwood. Sound recording: Glenn E. Anderson and Leslie I. Carey. Supervisor (Irish location shooting): Charles B. Fitzsimons. Color consultant: William Fritzsche. Music supervisor: Joseph Gershenson. Producer: Ross Hunter.
Copyright 1955 by Universal-International Pictures. No recorded New York opening. U.S. release: March 1955. U.K. release: May 1955. Australian release: 17 June 1955. Sydney opening at the State. 8,225 feet. 91 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: A group of Irish patriots rob the rich to further their cause.
COMMENT: Singularly lacking in power and excitement, despite actual lensing in Ireland in CinemaScope and color. Despite lavish production values, the story is weak, the dialogue weaker and the acting tepid. Sirk’s perfunctory direction does not help. It’s one of those films in which the music score attempts to do all the work of building up suspense, excitement and atmosphere — an attempt which is by no means a successful one.
Every bit as boring as I remembered it on its first release, Lightfoot is not only thoroughly routine and thoroughly dull, but totally without interest in acting, writing, direction or production. It’s dull enough with Jeff Morrow partnering Rock in “hairbreadth” escapades, but with the entry of Barbara Rush as Rock’s romantic interest it gets even duller, even more predictable and even less interesting. You need a big supply of stay-awake pills to sit this one through.
OTHER VIEWS: The weather’s uncertain (and that’s a kind word) again. Rainy one day, overcast the next, maybe a splash of sunshine somewhere in between. That’s how it’s been going.
Every evening there’s the same problem to face: shall we, next morning, set up in the grounds of Powerscourt House for exteriors, or inside the house itself?
This Powerscourt is quite a place. The house (or is it a castle?) has 105 rooms. It stands in 32,000 acres. Just about the only thing it seems to lack is its own private ruins in the front yard.
In the matter of ruins, Italy has it over Ireland. In Italy, you fall over ruins at every step. And one baron’s castle I dined at there did have its own ruins in the front yard, believe it or not!
This morning we shot the very first scene of Captain Lightfoot in the tree-lined drive leading up to Powerscourt House. I had to hold up a coach and rob the passengers, played by Lord and Lady Mount Charles. Wonderful people and competent actors even though they’ve never stood in front of a movie camera before.
They’ve invited Betty, Barbara [Betty Abbott, continuity girl and co-star Barbara Rush] and me and Charlie FitzSimons to the Meath Hunt early in August. It’s one of the big affairs of the season here. That I’m looking forward to — that and maybe getting across to the Venice Film Festival same month.
Betty has her troubles with Cinemascope shooting. Not that a continuity girl ever has an easy working day; but with that vast expanse of screen, the smallest slip-up in detail can stick out like a sore thumb. So she has to concentrate even more so than usual.
Barbara has a new admirers’ club, consisting of the unit and cast. At first, she was a little nervous. She’s okay now. That warm nature of hers, and her willingness to rehearse conscientiously, have endeared her to everyone.
I guess I felt the same as she did at first when I started “Magnificent Obsession” at Universal City. With me, though, it was just sheer nervousness at the thought of acting with a big star, Jane Wyman. I’d never done that before. Jane went out of her way to be nice to me.
I think, in fact, I can claim now that Jane is one of my friends. By and large, I haven’t many friends among the stars. I’m on friendly terms with plenty, sure enough; but a person doesn’t have many real friends. Put me down as basically something of a shy character, anyway.
Today we had hoped to get the duel scene in the can. For that, we want to move up to the waterfall in the Powerscourt grounds — the biggest falls in the British Isles, they say.
But Mr Weatherman began to cry, and we shot inside Powerscourt House instead. What a place! Huge rooms, priceless heirlooms, fabulous décor. Quite a background to our activity.
The ballroom, where Barbara and I will go through our corranto dance paces in company with 150 extras, hasn’t been used for thirty years. Not used for a big function, that is. King George IV got slightly the worse for liquor in this very room, so Lord Powerscourt told me.
His lordship, a breezy, informal character in corduroy trousers and sports jacket, is full of anecdotes about the ancestral home. He says with a twinkle that we ought to leave the wooden steps that the carpenters knocked up to get the equipment inside the house.
They’d do fine for one of his barns, especially as he says he has no money to buy a new stairway — because of high taxes.
— Rock Hudson, transcribed by Universal-International Publicity.
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Charlotte Rampling (Lila), David Birney (Neil Bowman), Michael Lonsdale (Duc de Croyter), Marcel Bozzuffi (Henri Czerda), Michael Bryant (Stefan Zuger), Manitas De Plata (Ricardo), Serge Marquand (Ferenc), Marianne Eggerickx (Cecile), Françoise Brion (Stella), Vania Vilers (1st guardian), Graham Hill (helicopter pilot), Jeane-Pierre Cargol (Jules), Jean-Pierre Castaldi (Pierre), Jean-Yves Gautier (gendarme), Marcella Markham, Gordon Tanner (American guests), Jean Michaux (waiter), Alan Scott (receptionist).
Directed by GEOFFREY REEVE. Writing credits: Alistair MacLean (novel), Paul Wheeler. Original music composed by Stanley Myers. Cinematography: Fred Tammes. Film editing: Robert Morgan. Production designer: Frank White. Art direction: Georges Petitot. Associate producer: George Davis. Producers: Richard Morris-Adams and Geoffrey Reeve.