Silents are Golden: 8 Great Silent Film Books for Your Library

Silents are Golden: 8 Great Silent Film Books for Your Library

Maybe it’s because of those title cards, but a love of silent films and a love of reading about silent films seem to go hand in hand. If you’re new to books on early cinema and would love to know where to start, I have some handy suggestions–and believe me, paring down the list to just eight choices was quite a challenge!

The Parade’s Gone By by Kevin Brownlow

The Parade’s Gone By by Kevin Brownlow
The Parade’s Gone By by Kevin Brownlow

Every list should naturally start with Brownlow’s milestone book, the gold standard for everything that’s been published since. Based on numerous interviews he conducted in the ‘60s and ‘70s with every former silent film star, director, editor, writer, etc. he could track down, The Parade’s Gone By is a compilation of countless priceless reminisces about the silent days and contains an abundance of detail about every aspect of early film making. It’s woven through with Brownlow’s passionate research and thoughtful observations about an era he was determined to keep from being forgotten–and I’d say he succeeded. 

A Million and One Nights by Terry Ramsaye

A Million and One Nights by Terry Ramsaye
A Million and One Nights by Terry Ramsaye

Written in 1925, this was one of the earliest books to tackle the story of film–starting, ambitiously, with musings on mankind’s advancements in creation and communication throughout history. (A sample chapter title: “From Aristotle to Philadelphia, PA.”) Since cinema was still evolving and maturing as Ramsaye wrote, it’s a fascinating time capsule. While today’s research shows that not all of his facts turned out to be accurate, it’s an enthusiastic, wonderfully written book. How often do you read a sentence like, “The crab-apple of Eden and the orange of Hollywood are undoubtedly of the same tree,” in regards to love stories in art?

The Silent Clowns by Walter Kerr

The Silent Clowns by Walter Kerr
The Silent Clowns by Walter Kerr

Another milestone of great writing on early cinema, Kerr’s passionate, deeply analytical approach to the work of the great silent clowns just about glows with love and admiration for their work. Covering a wide range of talents from Buster Keaton to lesser known figures like Lloyd Hamilton, he examines their unique gifts and makes a thoughtful case for why some comedians stand out above the rest. A remarkable tome that’s been called a love letter to silent comedy more than once.

The Transformation of Cinema: 1907-1915 by Eileen Bowser

The Transformation of Cinema: 1907-1915 by Eileen Bowser
The Transformation of Cinema: 1907-1915 by Eileen Bowser

If you really want to explore some details of early filmmaking, I can think of few works better than Bowser’s deep dive into every aspect of American cinema from the nickelodeon period until 1915. Highly readable and highly fascinating, it covers a gamut of topics from nickelodeon theater interiors to early film advertisements to censorship to styles of acting. Bowser was the former Curator of Film at NYC’s Museum of Modern Art and her wealth of knowledge and meticulous research is practically unparalleled. Whether you’re a hardcore silent film fans and or someone new to the genre, you’ll be glad to have this book.

An Evening’s Entertainment: The Age of the Silent Feature Picture, 1915-1928 by RichardKoszarski

An Evening’s Entertainment: The Age of the Silent Feature Picture, 1915-1928 by RichardKoszarski
An Evening’s Entertainment: The Age of the Silent Feature Picture, 1915-1928 by RichardKoszarski

Picking up where Bowser left off, this volume is equally detailed and equally fascinating.

The number of topics covered is astounding, and its breezy focus on the technical and business sides of filmmaking never gets too dry or academic. Searching for descriptions of film showings in the ‘20s? Looking for some early box office stats or info on theater admissions? Hoping to find overviews of some key directors? Interested in the ins and outs of poster designs? You will find all of this and much, much more in a book that I consider downright indispensable.

The Haunted Screen: Expressionism in the German Cinema and the Influence of Max Reinhardt by Lotte H. Eisner

The Haunted Screen: Expressionism in the German Cinema and the Influence of Max Reinhardt by Lotte H. Eisner
The Haunted Screen: Expressionism in the German Cinema and the Influence of Max Reinhardt by Lotte H. Eisner

The many fans of classics like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) and Nosferatu (1922) can’t go wrong with the great German-French historian’s most acclaimed book. It thoroughly covers the genre of German Expressionism, from its roots in modern art and Expressionist theater to the familiar 1920s masterpieces by F.W. Murnau and Fritz Lang. It also covers a number of minor German Expressionist films that you probably haven’t heard of. All this, combined with Eisner’s incisive analysis and a number of great stills, make it a very useful reference tool on this unique niche of film history.

American Silent Film by William K. Everson

American Silent Film by William K. Everson
American Silent Film by William K. Everson

This classic survey of early American cinema is on many silent film fan’s shelves. Taking the reader on a comprehensive journey from film’s earliest days all the way through to the early talkies, Everson’s book concentrates a bit more on the artistic side of filmmaking and also gives credit to the influence of European filmmaking. It was also one of the first books to thoroughly cover pre-1920 films. It’s a work I’ve referenced many times, and no doubt you’ll find it fascinating too.   

The Keystone Kid: Tales of Early Hollywood by Coy Watson Jr.

The Keystone Kid: Tales of Early Hollywood by Coy Watson Jr.
The Keystone Kid: Tales of Early Hollywood by Coy Watson Jr.

And now for something a little different! Comprehensive surveys and detailed analyses are all well and good, but sometimes it’s nice to see a more personal side of “the industry.” Coy Watson Jr. grew up quite literally down the street from Mack Sennett’s Keystone studio, and his father was one of the first official special effects experts in Hollywood. Coy and his eight siblings would all act in the movies alongside numerous great stars, both silents and talkies. In 2001 he decided to share his family’s memories and release this charming memoir. It’s both a priceless, up-close-and-personal account of early Hollywood and an affectionate portrait of a very close and hardworking family. It’s a beautiful book that more people could stand to know about.

Obviously this is a very brief starting point for building your very own silent film library, but I hope it helps! Much like the films themselves, these are books that can be enjoyed and pondered for many years to come.

–Lea Stans for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Lea’s Silents are Golden articles here.

Lea Stans is a born-and-raised Minnesotan with a degree in English and an obsessive interest in the silent film era (which she largely blames on Buster Keaton). In addition to blogging about her passion at her site Silent-ology, she is a columnist for the Silent Film Quarterly and has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.

Posted in Posts by Lea Stans, Silents are Golden | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Silver Screen Standards: The Wolf Man (1941)

Silver Screen Standards: The Wolf Man (1941)

The Wolf Man (1941) Lon Chaney Jr.
Chaney’s werewolf form makes him monstrous but retains enough of his humanity to be unsettling, especially because we can see his very human eyes in the monster’s face.

When I’m asked to choose a favorite among the classic Universal monster movies, I always pick The Wolf Man (1941). As much as I love Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi in their iconic monster roles, there’s something profoundly tragic about Lon Chaney Jr. as the unwilling werewolf, and the story always gets into my psyche and prowls around there in the dark corners, sniffing at my suspicion that the monster I most fear is the one who lives inside me. Unlike his monstrous peers, the Wolf Man is a living human being, guilty of no wrong, who is as horrified by his transformation as anyone else but utterly unable to stop it or prevent his bestial alter ego from wreaking havoc. What could be more terrifying? It’s this deeply sad and terrible premise that makes The Wolf Man such a great horror movie and an inspiration to the many stories that have followed it.

The Wolf Man (1941) Lon Chaney Jr. and Evelyn Ankers
Unable to control his bestial urges, Larry attacks Gwen (Evelyn Ankers), the girl he loves.

It’s true that The Wolf Man has its weaknesses as a picture, and Lon Chaney Jr. is not the gruesome chameleon that his father was in silent horror masterpieces, but Chaney’s ordinary face and manner remind us that this is the story of an everyman, not an extraordinary fiend or a lunatic driven by his unholy passions. Larry Talbot is the Americanized, prodigal son of an old English family; the disconnect between Chaney’s size and accent when compared to those of Claude Rains, who plays his father, Sir John, can seem a bit absurd but also emphasizes their emotional separation. As modern viewers we’re rightly troubled by the stereotyped depiction of the story’s Romani characters, but still Maria Ouspenskaya moves and compels us with her portrayal of Maleva, a sympathetic mother grieving the fate of her son and striving to help Larry even though the odds are against him. Maleva’s doomed son Bela, played by none other than Lugosi himself, is no more willingly culpable for his actions than Larry. The “wolf” we occasionally see might not fool anyone who has ever seen either a wolf or a German Shepherd, but it takes a lot of trust between man and dog for those scenes, and it’s weirdly heartwarming to know that Chaney’s pet dog, Moose, substitutes for the fearsome predator.

The Wolf Man (1941) Maria Ouspenskaya
Maleva (Maria Ouspenskaya) loses her son to the curse but tries to help Larry resist his murderous moonlight urges.

The message of The Wolf Man is best expressed by the ominous verse that we hear repeated throughout the picture: “Even a man who is pure of heart,/ And says his prayers by night,/ May become a wolf when the wolfsbane blooms/ And the autumn moon is bright.” The lines have the ring of an old nursery rhyme but were written by Curt Siodmak, who penned the original screenplay. As a Polish Jew born in Germany, Siodmak knew too well the way fate forces people into monstrous situations; he had fled Europe for the United States in 1937 as the Nazis ramped up their anti-Semitic aggression. Siodmak might have had his own powerlessness against fate in mind when he wrote the screenplay, but it speaks to the universal fear we share of being unable to stop terrible things from happening. Even more troubling is the fear that we cannot stop ourselves from becoming the monsters we abhor.

Siodmak’s story also taps into the medieval sense of the Wheel of Fortune and de casibus tragedy, in which people fall into the worst suffering from the promising heights of happiness. Larry Talbot is such a person, tied to Fortune’s relentlessly spinning wheel. He comes home, is reconciled with his father, meets a girl he likes, and is poised to inherit his father’s estate, but the werewolf’s fatal bite turns everything to ruin. Larry commits no crime to merit such a fate; he is simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to do the right thing by rushing to the aid of the werewolf’s latest victim. He’s not a mad scientist playing God, an adulterer performing profane rituals, or a bloodthirsty count enjoying his immortality. That’s what makes Larry’s story both moving and terrifying. He’s a normal person, just like us, living his normal life until something horrific snatches it all away.

The Wolf Man (1941) Claude Rains
The final twist of the curse makes Sir John (Claude Rains) his son’s unwitting executioner.

The tragic power of The Wolf Man has been harnessed many times since Chaney first donned the iconic werewolf makeup and stalked Evelyn Ankers through the foggy moonlit wood, with Chaney himself revisiting the role numerous times. He played Larry Talbot again in Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943), House of Frankenstein (1944), House of Dracula (1945), and Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), proving that one of Larry’s worst torments is his inability to die and end the curse. Simone Simon provides a feminine take on the story in Cat People (1942), while David Naughton plays a younger but no less tortured lycanthrope in An American Werewolf in London (1981). Even the cult horror comedy classic, Monster Squad (1987), understands that the werewolf is best understand as a victim of his fate. For a precursor to the 1941 picture, see Werewolf of London (1935), starring Henry Hull. If you’re interested in the medieval roots of werewolf lore, read the 12th century French “Bisclavret,” written by Marie de France.

— Jennifer Garlen for Classic Movie Hub

Jennifer Garlen pens our monthly Silver Screen Standards column. You can read all of Jennifer’s Silver Screen Standards articles here.

Jennifer is a former college professor with a PhD in English Literature and a lifelong obsession with film. She writes about classic movies at her blog, Virtual Virago, and presents classic film programs for lifetime learning groups and retirement communities. She’s the author of Beyond Casablanca: 100 Classic Movies Worth Watching and its sequel, Beyond Casablanca II: 101 Classic Movies Worth Watching, and she is also the co-editor of two books about the works of Jim Henson.

Posted in Posts by Jennifer Garlen, Silver Screen Standards | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Monsters and Matinees: A Tribute to Carl Kolchak, Monster Hunter

A Tribute to Carl Kolchak, Monster Hunter

Let’s be honest creature feature fans. We may love the monsters, but we enjoy the hunt, too.

Van Helsing, Hellboy, Solomon Kane and yes, the Scooby Gang, are among the most well-known of that special breed of monster hunters, but tops on my list is Carl Kolchak.

Without this fictional newspaper reporter who battled monsters to save the world on 1970s television, we wouldn’t have the likes of Mulder and Scully (The X-Files), Buffy (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), and the Winchester brothers (Supernatural).

Kolchak debuted in the 1972 TV movie The Night Stalker and is immortalized as a pop-culture icon in his trademark straw hat, seersucker suit and white sneakers.

That was 50 years ago, yet new books, graphic novels and home video releases continue to be created; fan art and watch parties are shared through Facebook groups dedicated to Kolchak. Pilgrimages are still made to the Old Colony Building in Chicago, which was the exterior for Kolchak’s office, the International News Service.

One reason for the continued interest is that Kolchak reminds fans of their childhood, said Gregg Davis, founder of the “Kolchak: The Night Stalker” Facebook group. “So many have memories of watching with a parent and being terrified – it was the first really scary show many members ever watched. Those memories are burned into their minds and finding others who share those memories is exciting,” said Davis who started his group, which now has 29,000 members, in 2005. 

Played by the engaging Darren McGavin, Kolchak battled more than 20 different creatures all in the name of getting a good story. There were the “usuals” like vampires, werewolves and witches, along with creepy creatures like an energy-eating entity, invisible aliens, a headless motorcyclist, succubus and ape-man.

Darren McGavin is Carl Kolchak.

But the emphasis through two TV movies and a 20-episode series was on Kolchak, not the monsters, and that “solidified the character of Kolchak in the history of television,” said Kendall R. Phillips, author of the new book “Kolchak: The Night Stalker,” part of the TV Milestones series from Wayne State University Press.

“Previously the focus was on the victim or the monster, or it would bounce back and forth between the two. If you had a monster hunter like Van Helsing, he showed up in the third act,” Phillips said, adding that focusing on Kolchak, “changed the face of horror.”

And, let’s be honest, that was an accomplishment for a character who was learning monster hunting on the job. Luckily, he was a darn good reporter. So, while he didn’t know science, folklore or mythology, he expertly wielded tough questions which usually got him in trouble but also provided answers.

“I ask a lot of questions; seems nobody likes that – cops, voodooists or politicians,” Kolchak says in The Zombie.

He was persistent and stubborn, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He wouldn’t let go of a good story, not even for a ticket to see the Cubs in the World Series. And he was willing to explore the most unbelievable possibilities to solve murders and investigate strange phenomenon.

Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) may be afraid of his shadow, but he still puts himself at risk by going alone into dangerous areas, to get his story.

Like the modern-day horror character who walks into the dark basement, Kolchak was always going where he shouldn’t – into an old house, an abandoned property, the sewers or the woods. Stumbling and bumbling, he knocked things over and made noise, drawing dangerous attention to himself. If there was a closet or doorway, Kolchak will surely back up against it and into the deadly arms of whatever terror awaits.

He was a fraidy cat who would jump at his own shadow, but he was somehow also foolishly brave. My favorite moment, if you can call it a favorite since it’s so creepy, is the scene where a clearly terrified Kolchak crawls into a hearse to “kill” a zombie by putting sugar in its mouth and sewing its lips shut (The Zombie).

He’s usually out of his league and that perennial underdog status is another aspect his enduring appeal, Davis of “Kolchak: The Night Stalker” Facebook group said.

“Kolchak always fights back and always triumphs, even if no one ever believes him,” Davis said. “His sense of humor makes him especially likable. Lots of great writers and directors were a part of the show, and it was generally a step above other TV shows of the time.”

While reporting, Kolchak discovered things so fantastic that authorities made sure his stories never saw the light of the day. They ripped film from his camera, the tape from his recorder and confiscated photos from his office. Stories were pulled and replaced with safe, sanitized versions of the “truth.”

Carl Kolchak is on the other side of the crucifix as he fends off vampire Janos Skorzeny (played by Barry Atwater) in The Night Stalker movie.

Since he couldn’t share his stories with readers of the International News Service, he told them to TV viewers in the always entertaining and mood-setting monologues that opened and closed each story.

“Chicago was being stalked by a horror so frightening, so fascinating, that it ranks with the great mysteries of all times. It’s been the fictional subject of novels, plays, films, even an opera. Now, here, are the true facts,” he tells us in the opening of The Ripper, the first episode in the TV series.

He knew how to grab our attention and we were happy to give it to him. It’s no wonder that Chris Carter was so inspired by watching Kolchak as a kid that he created his own truth-seekers in The X-Files.

The history of Kolchak

Carl Kolchak was introduced in The Kolchak Papers, an unpublished novel by Jeff Rice who was a reporter at the Las Vegas Sun. Though it failed to garner the interest of publishers, it was picked up by ABC Studios and turned into the made-for-TV movie The Night Stalker written by Richard Matheson for producer Dan Curtis.

In the movie, Kolchak is working for the International News Service in Las Vegas and complaining, as is his nature, about his latest assignment, a “two-day-old, third-rate murder.”

It quickly becomes his No. 1 priority when he learns the enticing news that victims were drained of blood. When the suspect is identified as a 70-year-old man named Janos Skorzeny (played by Barry Atwater) with superhuman strength and a body that can withstand point-blank bullets, Kolchak’s Spidey sense goes up.

It doesn’t take long for him to say the “V” word, nor to pull out a hammer and stake, imploring police authorities to “proceed under the assumption that he’s a vampire.”

“Are you suggesting that we pound one of those in Skorzeny’s chest?” Kolchak is asked.

“No, into his heart,” he says, speaking the language of horror fans.

Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) explains to police how they can kill a vampire in the TV movie The Night Stalker.

The Night Stalker was an overwhelming yet unexpected success, becoming the highest-rated TV movie at the time. (It’s puzzling that anyone would be surprised that a collaboration between Matheson, who wrote such classics as the vampire/zombie novel I Am Legend and many of the most memorable episodes of The Twilight Zone, and Curtis, the man responsible for Dark Shadows, would be a success.)

A sequel was quickly ordered, and The Night Strangler followed in 1973. Kolchak, banished from Las Vegas, was now in Seattle where his reputation – and trouble – followed. Young female murder victims are found with a needle puncture at the base of their scull and rotting pieces of flesh on their neck. With some research and old newspapers, Kolchak finds similar murders have taken place every 21 years going back a century. A trip into Seattle’s fascinating but spooky underground city is the next stop on Kolchak’s agenda.

The Night Strangler was another success, leading ABC to order a series. Kolchak: The Night Stalker premiered on Sept. 13, 1974 with The Ripper and a serial killer, who, you may have guessed, has disturbing similarities to Jack the Ripper.

From there, the episodes kept it fun with talk of a man with X-ray eyes, an Elixir of Life, ancient frozen cells, cursed tablets and oozing substances.

But it also followed a monster-of-the-week format, one reason that star Darren McGavin was so unhappy that he left the series before it completed a full season. But it still made its mark.

“For a show that didn’t last even a full season, it imprinted itself on American popular culture,” Phillips said. “People know that iconic straw hat and that seersucker suit. When he died, virtually every obit mentioned two of his parts: the father in ‘Christmas Story’ and Kolchak. Kolchak took a huge part of America’s imagination – and it continues to keep our imagination.”

Richard Kiel plays a sinister shaman who towers over Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) in the episode Bad Medicine from Kolchak: The Night Stalker.

The guest stars

The Kolchak movies and TV series all boasted great supporting casts led by Simon Oakland as Kolchak’s beleaguered and blustery boss Tony Vincenzo.

The list of police captains Kolchak frustrated and alienated were played by the likes of Keenan Wynn, Charles Aidman, John Marley and Larry Linville.

He also cultivated his reporting sources well. A favorite was Wally Cox who was perfectly cast as mousy researcher Titus Berry. I get caught up in their kid-like excitement as they discover the pattern to a murderer who strikes every 21 years in The Night Strangler. “Shall we try for 1889?” Titus asks.

Villains included Richard Kiel who played different creatures in The Spanish Moss Murders and Bad Medicine, soap star Eric Braeden was the title character in The Werewolf and Cathy Lee Crosby as a lovely woman who retained her youthful beauty at the expense of others in The Youth Killer.

Other familiar faces (and voices) are J. Pat O’Malley, Alice Ghostley, Julie Adams, Jim Backus, Erik Estrada and the wonderful Ruth McDevitt as the news agency’s puzzle maker and advice columnist, Miss Emily, who had an very sweet relationship with Kolchak.

Look for special guest star Kathie Brown, McGavin’s wife, in the episode Sentry.

 Toni Ruberto for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Toni’s Monsters and Matinees articles here.

Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is a member of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and now leads the offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs. She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto.

Posted in Classic TV, Horror, Monsters and Matinees, Posts by Toni Ruberto | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Noir Nook: Best Noir of the Year – Part I

Noir Nook: Best Noir of the Year – Part I

If you know me, you’ll know I love a good list. And what better lists to make than lists about classic film noir features? This time around, I’m serving up my favorite film noir from each year of the classic noir era which, in my estimation, started in 1940 and ended in 1959. As you can imagine, coming up with just one noir per year involved a great deal of thought and some painful decisions, but I managed to settle on a final list of my ultimate picks. For September’s Noir Nook, I’m sharing the first 10 years of the classic noir era – next month, I’ll wrap up the list with 1950 through 1959. Here goes…

1940:

Bette Davis in The Letter (1940)
Bette Davis in The Letter (1940)

This year wasn’t very difficult – the classic film noir era was just getting started, and there were only a handful of pictures that would fit in this category. For sentimental reasons, because I consider it to be the very first noir, I’d like to say Stranger on the Third Floor, but my true favorite is The Letter. This feature stars Bette Davis as Leslie Crosbie, the wife of a rubber plantation owner in Malaysia (and who, incidentally, is deserving of an honorable mention on my list of memorable femme entrances). The picture opens with Leslie’s multiple gunshot murder of her lover, and the defense of her elaborate alibi hinges upon the letter of the film’s title – a missive written from Leslie to her lover, and now in the possession of the dead man’s Malaysian wife (Gale Sondergaard).

1941:

Lana Turner and Robert Taylor in Johnny Eager (1941)
Lana Turner and Robert Taylor in Johnny Eager (1941)

I know that The Maltese Falcon seems like an obvious choice for this year, but I decided to go in a different direction – my choice for the year is Johnny Eager, starring Robert Taylor in the title role of an ex-con who uses the daughter (Lana Turner) of his nemesis to further his criminal exploits. Also in the cast is Van Heflin, who deservedly won an Academy Award for his portrayal of Eager’s loyal, alcoholic best friend. Special shout-out to Patricia Dane who turned in a touching performance as Eager’s discarded lover.

1942:

Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake in This Gun for Hire (1942)
Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake in This Gun for Hire (1942)

Interestingly, this year pits two Alan LaddVeronica Lake noirs against each other: This Gun for Hire and The Glass Key. (It’s also interesting that my favorite Ladd-Lake film is neither of these – it’s The Blue Dahlia! But I digress.) I’m going to go with This Gun for Hire, where Ladd stars as a psychologically damaged hitman named Raven and Lake is a nightclub singer who gets caught up in Raven’s vendetta against his employer (Laird Cregar). There are a lot of moving parts here, and some typical noir confusion, but it’s never boring.

1943:

Teresa Wright and Joseph Cotton in Shadow of a Doubt (1943)
Teresa Wright and Joseph Cotton in Shadow of a Doubt (1943)

A no-brainer for this year – it’s Alfred Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt, which the famed director reportedly identified as his favorite film. Here, Teresa Wright is Charlotte “Charlie” Newton, a small-town girl whose bored existence is significantly altered when her uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotten) comes to visit. Unfortunately for young Charlie, her uncle is a sociopath and a murderer. You can’t choose your relatives.

1944:

Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray in Double Indemnity (1944)
Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray in Double Indemnity (1944)

Things are starting to heat up, folks. The year 1944 presented me with my first set of multiple contenders. Murder, My Sweet? Phantom Lady? Laura? A near-impossible choice, right? Not so fast. If you know me, you know what my favorite noir is and you know that I simply must pick Double Indemnity. Barbara Stanwyck is Phyllis Dietrichson, who teams with a too-smart-for-his-own-good insurance salesman (Fred MacMurray) to bump off Mr. Dietrichson and collect a big insurance payday. But you know what they say about the best laid plans.

1945:

Ann Blyth and Joan Crawford in Mildred Pierce (1945)
Ann Blyth and Joan Crawford in Mildred Pierce (1945)

Another year, another personal favorite. I hate to bypass Detour, The Great Flamarion, My Name Is Julia Ross, and Scarlet Street, but they haven’t got a chance up against Mildred Pierce. Next to Double Indemnity, this is the noir I’ve seen the most often, and the first time I saw it was on the big screen – it’s a sentimental favorite, y’all. Joan Crawford stars in the title role of a single mother whose life is forever altered by her determination to please her snooty older daughter (played to perfection by Ann Blyth).  

1946:

Edward Norris, Jean Gillie and Herbert Rudley in Decoy (1946)
Edward Norris, Jean Gillie and Herbert Rudley in Decoy (1946)

I’m going out on a limb with this one, folks. Numerous first-rate noirs were released in 1946, including Gilda, The Killers, The Locket, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers, and the uber-confusing but undeniably entertaining The Big Sleep. But I’m going with Decoy. This obscure noir stars Jean Gillie as Margot Shelby, a cold-as-dry-ice dame who is mortally wounded at the film’s begin and tells us in flashback how she masterminded a farfetched criminal scheme that centered on reviving her recently executed convict boyfriend. (I kid you not.) Decoy isn’t on YouTube and I’ve never seen it on cable, but it is available on DVD – I strongly recommend that you check it out. I promise that you won’t be sorry.

1947:

Ann Sheridan and Kent Smith in Nora Prentiss (1947)
Ann Sheridan and Kent Smith in Nora Prentiss (1947)

And now we come to 1947, the year that saw the release of oh-so-many noir gems – Out of the Past, The Devil Thumbs a Ride, Born to Kill, They Won’t Believe Me, Nightmare Alley, Body and Soul… the sheer number of outstanding noirs that came out this year is absolutely mind-blowing. I sidestepped these, though, in favor of a film that’s always on my best-of lists – Nora Prentiss. This feature boasts a unique storyline, a perfect noir ending, and top-notch performances from Ann Sheridan as a nightclub singer and Kent Taylor as the very-married doctor who ruins his life – literally – when he falls for her.

1948:

Cathy O'Donnell and Farley Granger in They Live by Night (1948)
Cathy O’Donnell and Farley Granger in They Live by Night (1948)

I thought that I’d have a harder time with this year, but as soon as I spied They Live By Night, I knew what my pick would be. This film stars Farley Granger and Cathy O’Donnell as perfectly cast star-crossed lovers whose quest for a normal life is continuously thwarted by the realities of the criminal milieu in which they exist. Memorable support is provided by noir vets Jay C. Flippen, Will Wright, and Howard DaSilva (whose one-eyed ex-con is one of noir’s creepiest).

1949:

Yvonne DeCarlo and Burt Lancaster in Criss Cross (1949)
Yvonne DeCarlo and Burt Lancaster in Criss Cross (1949)

Wow, this was the hardest year yet, with three superb films vying for my pick: Too Late for Tears, The Set-Up, and Criss Cross. What a quandary! After much consideration, I finally went with Criss Cross, which I consider to be one of noir’s purest. Burt Lancaster is Steve Thompson, who returns to his hometown only to find himself drawn into a web of passion, deception, and murder involving his ex-wife (Yvonne DeCarlo) and her new husband, local mobster Slim Dundee (Dan Duryea). For my money, everything about this film is perfect, from the casting to the plot, and from the first scene to the last. If you’ve never seen this one, do yourself a favor and bump it up to the top of your must-see list. You won’t be sorry.

What are your favorite noirs from 1940 to 1949? Leave a comment and let me know – and join me next month for Part II of Best Noir of the Year!

– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Karen’s Noir Nook articles here.

Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages.
If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here:

Posted in Noir Nook, Posts by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Film Noir Review: The Brasher Doubloon (1947)

“Rule 1 for private detectives: always deposit retainer before client changes mind.”

We all love Philip Marlowe. He’s the essence of film noir distilled to a single character, and he’s responsible for more classics than most screen detectives combined. The roster of actors who have played him is staggering as it is star-studded: Dick Powell, Humphrey Bogart, Robert Montgomery, James Garner, Elliott Gould, Danny Glover and James Caan. Each of them brought a specific aspect of Marlowe to the fore, proving just how versatile and multi-faceted the character has been.

That being said, Marlowe is not an automatic boon for a film. While his screen adventures have fared better than, say, Mike Hammer or Lew Archer, there have been instances where an adaptation completely drops the ball. Case in point: 1947’s The Brasher Doubloon. A film that flirted with greatness at nearly every turn during pre-production, and somehow wound up with the least compelling final product imaginable.

The film’s promotional poster.

Let’s backtrack slightly. Raymond Chandler, the author behind Marlowe, was the hottest ticket in Hollywood circa 1945. He landed an Oscar nomination for co-writing Double Indemnity (1944), and adaptations of the novels Murder, My Sweet (1944) and The Big Sleep (1946) resulted in critical and commercial success. 20th Century Fox took notice, and they dusted off the rights to Chandler’s novel The High Window with the hopes of churning out yet another hit. What could go wrong?

It turns out, a lot. Fasten your seatbelts, because the number of legendary actors that were connected to the film at one point or another is whiplash-inducing. The first official word on The Brasher Doubloon came in May 1945, when it was announced that Fred MacMurray would be playing Marlowe. Before the ink had dried on said report, MacMurray was out and John Payne was in. Curious to see Payne step into Marlowe’s well-worn shoes? Too bad, he got axed two months later to make way for Victor Mature. 20th Century Fox became so committed to making Mature the next Marlowe, in fact, that he was taken off the musical Three Little Girls In Blue (1946) so that he could be given the necessary time to prepare.

Fred MacMurray was the first actor attached to the film.

It doesn’t stop there. Mature eventually walked, which left the door open for Dana Andrews. A report made by the studio in January 1946 confirmed that Gene Tierney would be cast opposite Andrews’s Marlowe, and that John Brahm would be brought in to direct. One part of the report turned out to be true, and it had nothing to do with the stars of Laura (1944). Pressed for options, and with no committed stars in sight, the studio turned to Robert Montgomery. On paper, the actor was as good a choice as any, but he had already committed to a different Marlowe adaptation for RKO, Lady In the Lake (1947), and the double-dip proved too big a hurdle to overcome.

I’ve spent so much time on the casting possibilities of The Brasher Doubloon because any one of these actors would have made an excellent Marlowe. MacMurray and Mature would have harnessed the detective’s steadfastness, Payne would’ve tapped into his underlying tenderness, and Andrews could have given us a steely, slightly uncharacteristic take (akin to the aforementioned Lady In the Lake). There is a fascinating film to be with each of these men, especially when one considers the fact that each of them were in their commercial prime.

Nancy Guild and George Montgomery struggle to get their footing.

What we got instead was George Montgomery and a 1947 release. Now I’m not one to criticize actors outright, and Montgomery was a likable cowboy in Cimarron City (1958-59), but he has no business taking up the mantle of Marlowe. He’s an open book and it shows. He’s too broad and chiseled, and he communicates none of the internal problem-solving that a character like Marlowe requires to make compelling. He’s also too broad-minded. From the opening scene, he aggressively flirts with his client’s secretary (Nancy Guild), despite her making it clear that she has more pressing matters on the brain. Granted, Marlowe has always had a tendency to romance the women he encounters, but Montgomery’s unrelentingness makes the whole enterprise feel, well, creepy. Less Spade and more Archer if you catch my drift.

Guild, who took on the role of timid secretary after Tierney and Ida Lupino (!) passed, is given little to do but look frightened. She fares decently with what she has, but her chemistry with Montgomery is stiff at best, making them easily the least electric pairing in any Marlowe adaptation. Noir enthusiasts will perk up whenever bit players like Roy Roberts (Force of Evil) and Houseley Stevenson (Dark Passage) appear, but they’re gone before they’re able to spike the momentum of the film in any significant way.

Montgomery as the only mustachioed Marlowe to date.

The screenplay doesn’t do the cast any favors. Dorothy Bennett and Leonard Praskins attempt to stay faithful to Chandler’s novel by incorporating narration, but they wind up overexplaining the plot to such an extent that all tension is removed. Marlowe figures things out in record time, and the unconvincing performances make it clear when a particular character is lying. The moment where Guild’s character pulls a gun on Marlowe should be a shocker, but Guild has played all of her previous scenes with such exaggerated innocence that the whole thing feels telegraphed. Even the shamus looks unsurprised.

It’s not all bad. John Brahm is one of those directors who’s only as good as his material, but he manages to stage some interesting visuals nonetheless. Marlowe gets knocked down at one point, and when he looks up, the camera assumes his POV as his captors stand above him. It’s a neat shot, and one that captures the grittiness of the novel. I also like the use of architecture to communicate the gothic ties of Marlowe’s client, the Murdock family.

“You better go easy on that whiskey, Miss Davis. That sounded like a direct answer to a direct question.”

At the risk of making a correlation sound like a causation, the Marlowe adaptations slowed down after the release of The Brasher Doubloon. The film received mixed to negative reviews, and the character wouldn’t be seen again on the big screen until 1969’s Marlowe. The character has obviously survived, leaving this subpar release as little more than a curiosity for noiristas and Raymond Chandler completists. It’s one of those rare, unfortunate films that’s more interesting to read about than it is to watch.

TRIVIA: The film was released under its original title, The High Window, in the UK.

…..

You can find all of Danilo’s Film Noir Review articles here.

Danilo Castro is a film noir aficionado and Contributing Writer for Classic Movie Hub. You can read more of Danilo’s articles and reviews at the Film Noir Archive, or you can follow Danilo on Twitter @DaniloSCastro.

Posted in Film Noir Review, Posts by Danilo Castro | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Western RoundUp: Western Film Book Library – Part 6

Western RoundUp: Western Film Book Library – Part 6

It’s been over a year since my last “Western Film Book Library” post, and in the intervening time I’ve made several interesting additions to my library, so this seems like a good time for a fresh look at some books on the Western genre!

For those who might be new to this topic, my past columns with additional book recommendations are linked at the bottom of this column.

The Heroine or the Horse: Leading Ladies in Republic’s Films by Thomas Burnett Swann is one of the earliest titles I acquired when I was first building my film book library as a teenager. It was published by A.S. Barnes & Co. in 1977. Despite its age, used copies of this book are readily available online for reasonable prices.

The Heroine or the Horse: Leading Ladies in Republic's Films by Thomas Burnett Swann
The Heroine or the Horse: Leading Ladies in Republic’s Films by Thomas Burnett Swann

The Heroine or the Horse isn’t entirely focused on Westerns, but since Westerns were a Republic Studios specialty, a significant number of the films discussed in the book are from that genre.

Some chapters group several actresses for discussion, such as a chapter on John Wayne‘s leading ladies; another chapter on “superstars” features actresses such as Hayworth, Crawford, and Stanwyck. Vera Hruba Ralston, who married studio head Herbert Yates, receives her own chapter, as does author favorite Adela Mara.  The book contains varying amounts of biographical background mixed with information on the films the actresses made at Republic.

This 134-page book is filled with black and white photographs. At the time I first read it, many of the films and actresses seen in the photographs were completely unknown to me, which made it both educational and a tantalizing guide to films I might one day have a chance to see. Today I’m much better acquainted with most of the actresses discussed, but there are still many films mentioned in the book which I’d like to be able to see; Republic “B” films are not always easy to access!

Those Great Cowboy Sidekicks, like several other books I’ve discussed here over the years, was a find at the Lone Pine Museum of Western Film History. It was written by David Rothel, who also wrote the wonderful book on Tim Holt which I recommended here in 2019.

The book can be found with very different covers, including the two above, as it’s been republished a couple of times since its original publication in 1984. It was most recently republished for the Lone Pine Museum by Riverwood Press in 2013; that edition runs 354 pages.

The book is divided into three sections, with the first one focusing on the “Big Three”: George “Gabby” Hayes, Smiley Burnette, and Al “Fuzzy” St. John. The second chapter covers more familiar faces such as Richard “Chito” Martin, Andy “California” Clyde, Lee “Lasses” White, Fuzzy Knight, Raymond Hatton, and more. The final chapter of “strays” has even more actors who appeared as Western sidekicks during their careers, including Gordon Jones, Slim Pickens, Guinn “Big Boy” Williams, and Sterling Holloway.

The book’s photo spreads are quite beautiful, as seen above, and the photos also make the book a great resource for anyone trying to place a familiar face seen in a Western. The book contains a lot of good biographical information unlikely to be found elsewhere, including really interesting primary source interviews with both actors and relatives. Western filmographies are included as well.

The Films and Career of Audie Murphy, America’s Real Hero by Sue Gossett is yet another treasure found in Lone Pine. The museum does a remarkable job carrying not only recent books but older titles, such as this paperback from Empire Publishing, originally published in 1996 and republished in 2003.

The Films and Career of Audie Murphy, America's Real Hero by Sue Gossett
The Films and Career of Audie Murphy, America’s Real Hero by Sue Gossett

Along with some biographical background, the book covers all of Murphy’s films in three- to four-page spreads which include the credits, a plot synopsis, and additional information such as a film’s critical reception. I particularly liked that each film’s locations are included, since that topic is always of particular interest to me.

While some of the material such as plots can be found online these days, the book was written by someone who clearly admires Murphy and it has many good photos, making it a nice career overview and companion to Robert Nott’s Last of the Cowboy Heroes, which was discussed in my 2021 book roundup. It’s worth noting that director Budd Boetticher and two of Murphy’s sisters were among those thanked for their support in the book’s opening acknowledgments.

John Wayne Was Here: The Film Locations and Favorite Places of an American Icon by Roland Schaefli was a key resource for me in finding the Rio Grande (1950) locations in the Moab area which I shared pictures of earlier this summer.

John Wayne Was Here: The Film Locations and Favorite Places of an American Icon by Roland Schaefli
John Wayne Was Here: The Film Locations and Favorite Places of an American Icon by Roland Schaefli

John Wayne Was Here is an impressive 313-page book published by MacFarland, and after using it this year I can say it is the book for anyone interested in Wayne locations as well as significant places in Wayne’s offscreen life, up to and including his gravesite in Corona del Mar, California.

For Rio Grande the book even provided the precise highway mile markers we’d need outside Moab, Utah. The book was remarkably helpful for our locations hunt, and it’s also an interesting read with plentiful photographs.

Where God Put the West: Movie Making in the Desert – A Moab-Monument Valley Movie History by Bette E. Stanton is one of two books on movie locations I came across in the gift shop at Arches National Park this summer. It was published by the Canyonlands Natural History Association.

Where God Put the West: Movie Making in the Desert - A Moab-Monument Valley Movie History by Bette E. Stanton
Where God Put the West: Movie Making in the Desert – A Moab-Monument Valley Movie History by Bette E. Stanton

I really liked this 184-page book, which as the title indicates covers the film history of both Moab and Monument Valley. Having now been to both locations made the book especially meaningful for me. It goes into considerable historical detail, with fairly small print, and contains unique photographs I’ve never seen anywhere else, such as the cast of Rio Grande on location at White Ranch outside Moab.

The book contains some excellent Western film history and will also be useful on future movie location visits.

Cinema Southwest: An Illustrated Guide to the Movies and Their Locations by John A. Murray is the other book I found at Arches National Park, and like the previous title it was published by the Canyonlands Natural History Association.

Cinema Southwest: An Illustrated Guide to the Movies and Their Locations by John A. Murray
Cinema Southwest: An Illustrated Guide to the Movies and Their Locations by John A. Murray

This 196-page book has heavy pages and glossy photographs, including many in color. It groups locations for seven states, from California to Texas. Although the southwestern U.S. locations naturally lead to most of the films discussed being Westerns, non-Westerns are covered as well.

Cinema Southwest includes a number of what I consider “newer” films, but the amount of information on older movies is substantial enough that I found the book worth my while. Like the previously mentioned location books, it also has useful information for visitors, such as describing for readers exactly how to get to Movie Road in the Alabama Hills outside Lone Pine.

A tidbit I was fascinated to learn from this book was that Clint Eastwood‘s High Plains Drifter (1973) filmed at Mono Lake, a site I’ve driven past countless times over the course of my life. That movie is now on my “watch” list!

For more ideas on Western film books, please visit my lists from July 2019November 2019May 2020January 2021, and July 2021.

– Laura Grieve for Classic Movie Hub

Laura can be found at her blog, Laura’s Miscellaneous Musings, where she’s been writing about movies since 2005, and on Twitter at @LaurasMiscMovie. A lifelong film fan, Laura loves the classics including Disney, Film Noir, Musicals, and Westerns.  She regularly covers Southern California classic film festivals.  Laura will scribe on all things western at the ‘Western RoundUp’ for CMH.

Posted in Posts by Laura Grieve, Western RoundUp | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Silents are Golden: A Closer Look At – The Sheik (1921)

Silents are Golden: A Closer Look At – The Sheik (1921)

One of the great sensations of the early 1920s screen, The Sheik (1921) is the kind of silent film that’s almost too easy to mock: it’s melodramatic, it’s cheesy, it’s based on a florid romance novel, and it features plenty of that exaggerated acting people always think was common back then (there was plenty of naturalistic acting, I promise…!).

Rudolph Valentino and Agnes Ayres in The Sheik (1921)
Rudolph Valentino and Agnes Ayres in The Sheik (1921)

And when it comes to analyzing its star, the legendary Rudolph Valentino, some might find themselves scratching their heads. The bulging eyes, the stilted love scenes–it’s a performance that admittedly hasn’t aged like a fine wine. But there are still moments that capture his charisma, helping us understand his singular mystique. And, of course, The Sheik is also a darn good example of early 20th century camp.

The Sheik (1921) Agnes Ayres and Rudolph Valentino
Valentino as The Sheik, Ahmed Ben Hassan, carrying Ayres, Lady Diana Mayo

After his breakout role as the fiery gaucho Julio in The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921), oddly enough, Valentino’s subsequent roles weren’t exactly capitalizing on his talent. Camille (1921), for instance, was mainly an artsy vehicle for its star Alla Nazimova. He finally signed a contract with the more open-minded Famous Players-Lasky, which quickly decided the “exotic” young Italian would make a perfect Sheik Ahmed Ben Hassan for The Sheik, their planned film version of Edith M. Hull’s wildly successful romance novel. His costars would be Agnes Ayres, an unassuming brunette whose petite frame made her costar seem taller than he was (various sources say Valentino was either 5’8” or 5’9”), and the dapper Adolphe Menjou.

The Sheik (1921) Rudolph Valentino, Agnes Ayres and Adolphe Menjou
Valentino, Ayres and Menjou

Not only was this novel popular, but it was very much in tune with the prevailing trend for all things “Oriental.” The Far East was considered a place of lush beauty and mysterious allure, where passions surely ran hot. Various starlets sported turbans and dresses made of “exotic” fabrics and decorated their homes with lacquered tables, painted screens and heaps of silk cushions. Interest in “Orientalism” signaled that you were more mystical and artistic than your average straitlaced type, and certainly more sensual.

In that atmosphere, Hull’s novel was practically made to order. It does have elements that really make us balk today. It tells the tale of Lady Diana Mayo, an adventurous young woman who insists on taking a trip into the Algerian desert accompanied only by a guide. She soon catches the eye of the Sheik Ahmed, who decides that he must have her. He dramatically kidnaps her, has his way with her, and keeps her captive for several months. Although she does attempt to escape, eventually Diana begins falling in love with Ahmed. When Diana’s kidnapped again by a rival sheik, Ahmed realizes that he loves her too, and after some twists and turns all ends happily… so to speak.

The Sheik novel by E.M. Hull
The novel The Sheik by E.M. Hull (1919)

With such a scandalous plot on their hands, Famous Players had to figure out how to get away with filming it. Parts were softened out of concerns that the film would be targeted for depicting miscegenation (despite an eyebrow-raising twist at the end that I won’t spoil here), emphasizing that Ahmed didn’t subject Diana to physical harm during her captivity. Rather awkwardly, Valentino’s narrow eyes were made up to appear rounder and his naturally tan skin tone was lightened. His hands are still noticeably darker than his face, contrasting strongly with Ayres’ delicate pale skin–likely on purpose since the script mentions Ahmed grasping her “white, trembling hands in his firm brown grip.” Interestingly, posters and lobby cards do show Valentino’s Ahmed with a darker complexion. His iconic “sheik” costumes of flowing robes, sashes, tassels and turbans were designed by his significant other Natasha Rambova, who was deeply interested in all things Far East herself.

The Sheik (1921) Rudolph Valentino Costume Design
Valentino’s extravagant costume design by Natasha Rambova

The Sheik was shot on location in the Ventura and Santa Barbara counties, where the desert dunes were a good stand-in for Northern Africa–or its romanticized version. The studio set up two large camps full of extras, making the production feel like a large-scale desert expedition. The director, George Melford, was a fan of westerns and enlisted a number of experienced horsemen for some of the shots. He was happy to discover that Valentino was already an experienced horseback rider and was game to do any sort of action the film needed. Natasha later said Valentino was “in his element.”

A bit of Hollywoodland magic was needed for some of the exotic exteriors. An oasis was created by designing a number of full-size palm trees out of painted wood and canvas. These trees would later end up as decorations in the famous Cocoanut Grove at L.A.’s Ambassador Hotel. Bits of Pathe stock footage of an Algerian town were spliced in for some scenes, giving a bit of realism–but not too much. The overall effect was supposed to be more of an exotic fantasy than strict recreation of real life, and many interior shots took place in elaborate tents where the sides gently fluttered in the breeze and lush curtains framed the scenes. Melford also liked filming scenes through Moorish-shaped doorways, trying to add as much atmosphere as he could.

The Sheik (1921) Rudolph Valentino Agnes Ayres lobby card
“The Sheik is the hectic tale of an English girl in the clutches of an Arabian chief”

The acting, a bit infamously, was also part of the fantasy. Melford like some of the pantomime-inspired tricks Valentino used, like widening his eyes to show desire, and encouraged it to an extreme. Similarly, Agnes Ayres shows a rather limited range of exaggerated emotions, mainly fear, anger, and of course, love. It all makes for a lot of amusement today, but there were a few scenes that Valentino managed to transcend–mainly a key scene where he feels remorse for frightening Diana. His gaze straight into the camera has an arresting quality that can still mesmerize us today.

The Sheik (1921) Rudolph Valentino
Valentino as Ahmed Ben Hassan

The Sheik was a big hit of course, although reviews were mixed. There was quite a bit of snark about the acting, and there were even many complaints that the plot wasn’t as spicy as the book. But it was generally agreed that Valentino carried the film well–and there’s no doubt that his fans thought so. The Sheik officially made the young actor a phenomenon, one of the biggest stars of the 1920s–and biggest names in film history in general. And while his first major starring film might be hard for 21st century audiences to take seriously, it also has a kitschy charm that’s hard to forget. 

–Lea Stans for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Lea’s Silents are Golden articles here.

Lea Stans is a born-and-raised Minnesotan with a degree in English and an obsessive interest in the silent film era (which she largely blames on Buster Keaton). In addition to blogging about her passion at her site Silent-ology, she is a columnist for the Silent Film Quarterly and has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.

Posted in Posts by Lea Stans, Silents are Golden | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Monsters and Matinees: Exploring the Cinematic Roads to ‘The Lost World’

Exploring the Cinematic Roads to ‘The Lost World’

Meet Professor George Edward Challenger, a clever and gruff man with an adventurous spirit but impossible behavior.

He lives up to his name by being a challenge to everyone he meets while also issuing challenges to colleagues and foes. He’s a meaty character who is a “full-charged battery of force and vitality,” as described by his creator Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in the 1912 novel The Lost World. No wonder he has attracted such actors as Wallace Beery, Claude Rains and John Rhys-Davies to play him in three of the multiple screen adaptations.

The 1925 silent version was the first screen adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World.

Though Conan Doyle is better known as the literary father of Sherlock Holmes, The Lost World is famous in its own right. The slim novel opens with an extended scene of a young newspaper reporter whose girlfriend won’t accept his proposal until he does something memorable. Lucky for him, Professor Challenger has returned from South America where he claims he found the existence of dinosaurs. Instead of being heralded for the discovery, Challenger is a joke in the British science community where his ill-temper doesn’t help his case. Only a new expedition with witnesses will prove he’s not a fraud.

Though Doyle’s Lost World has dinosaurs, it is not the basis for the 2007 film of the same name, but rather a distant relative. Jurassic Park author Michael Crichton paid homage to Doyle’s novel by using the title The Lost World for his sequel to both the novel and film.

The first film adaptation of Conan Doyle’s novel was made in 1925, and though it was silent, the imagery was enough to startle and amaze moviegoers at the time.

The directing is tedious, but the dinosaur scenes often exceeded my expectations and I suspect they will at least surprise you. Of course, they can’t compare with today’s CGI-dinosaurs and other technological marvels, but, like Jurassic Park, the original Lost World film showed audiences something they previously could only imagine.

That’s thanks to the legendary Willis O’Brien, a pioneer in the art of stop-motion animation who created one of the greatest beasts in cinematic history with King Kong.

O’Brien had tinkered with dinosaurs starting with his first film, The Dinosaur and the Missing Link: A Prehistoric Tragedy (1917). It was one of several prehistoric shorts he would make for the Thomas Edison Company including The Ghost of Slumber Mountain (1918). But these were only about 5 minutes in length, and O’Brien, though always creative, was using primitive puppetry. Watch those shorts and you will be impressed by how much his talents progressed in only eight years for The Lost World, in which he used 18-inch dinosaurs, and then again when he shook the film world with King Kong.

Wallace Beery wears a perpetual frown as Professor Challenger in The Lost World (1925).

The original movie

Professor Challenger (played with bombast and wild hair by Wallace Beery) is suing the London Record Journal for doubting his tales of dinosaurs while on expedition on a South American plateau. The only “proof” Challenger has about the dinosaurs is a diary kept by another explorer, Maple White, that includes descriptions and hand-drawn pictures. White was lost on the original expedition and a diary is not enough to convince anyone that dinosaurs are alive.

The combative Challenger, now the joke of the science community, won’t talk to reporters to help his case. Still, clumsy young reporter Ed Malone (Lloyd Hughes), who needs to do something “dangerous” to win over his fiancée, volunteers to cover Challenger.

During a speech, Challenger challenges a room of doubters to join him on an expedition to prove the existence of the dinosaurs. Though he gets heckled, an expedition is set. Joining Challenger are the reporter Malone, big-game hunter Sir John Roxton (played by the esteemed Lewis Stone), doubting Professor Summerville (Arthur Hoyt) and Paula White (Bessie Love), daughter of Maple White.

We’re quickly on an expedition with dangers lurking before we spot our first prehistoric creature: there’s a native with a spear hiding in the bushes, an angry leopard, a mean-looking gorilla who will be lurking about throughout the film. (He’s clearly a guy in a suit, but ape-men are part of the original novel and later adaptations.)

A Pterodactyl sits at the top of a summit in the 1925 version of The Lost World.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long to spot our first dinosaur and it’s a spectacular Pterodactyl flying over the pinnacle where Maple White was lost (this pivotal scene is replayed in subsequent versions). Then there’s a Brontosaurus – perfectly harmless “unless it happens to step on us,” Challenger tells his group – but also the vicious meat-eating Allosaurus.

They reach the chasm where Maple White was last seen, cutting down a tree to help them cross to the other side. But trees have leaves, a perfect snack for a dino who accidentally dislodges the tree while munching and traps the explorers with seemingly no way back to camp.

If that’s not enough, a volcano decides to erupt. Our trusty adventurers now need to find a way down the pinnacle, escape the dinosaurs (and that pesky ape-man) and get away before the volcano erupts. Did I mention the love triangle, too? There’s plenty of drama.

An Allosaurus is in a fighting mood in The Lost World (1925).

Though the dinosaurs are often in long shot, the scenes still do their job. O’Brien has his creatures on the move through thick foliage, battles and running from lava. That movement lends them a realism they wouldn’t have if they were static.

Without really spoiling the story, they do make it back to civilization (was there any doubt?) with a specimen that, like all creatures that find themselves in a big city (King Kong, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms) will get loose and wreak havoc.

So break down The Lost World with me to its basics. A man claims to have seen dinosaurs/monsters. No one believes him. There is a diary with a map. Unimaginable danger lurks about. People get trapped with no way home. Mountain caves provide shelter. And there’s a volcano. Perhaps if they escape, they have a trophy to bring to the big city where it will surely get loose.

Sound familiar? Absolutely. The Lost World was the inspiration for a century of films to follow with similar elements such as King Kong, The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, and yes, the Jurassic Park/Jurassic World/Lost World films. At the same time, Conan Doyle’s novel The Lost World followed a tradition of other grand adventures in new worlds such as those written by Jules Verne in the 1880s, Mysterious Island and Journey to the Center of the Earth (which also have multiple adaptations worth watching).

Dangers lurk everywhere in Irwin Allen’s colorful 1960 version of The Lost World.

Other adaptations of The Lost World

The timeless story of The Lost World has been irresistible to filmmakers with multiple versions made for film and television. They generally follow the same storyline with the same characters – Professor Challenger, Professor Summerlee, a reporter, a respected big-game hunter and a young woman with a relationship to someone in the story. The location may change, characters are added and some versions follow closer than others. But the actors playing Challenger are all up to the challenge and give viewers a jolly good time. Here are just two of the other adaptations, each called The Lost World.

1960 film. Directed by Irwin Allen.

Grab the popcorn. This is a fun and very colorful adventure yarn that throws in much more than dinosaurs with cannibals, a giant spider (as bad as it looks, it’s still a giant spider), carnivorous plants, dangerous caverns, a sea creature and lots of lava. We can clearly see Allen’s penchant for disaster films in an early stage.

The gang’s all here for Irwin Allen’s The Lost World including in the front row, Fernando Lamas, Michael Rennie, Jill St. John (and dog), Ray Stricklyn, Claude Rains and Jay Novello.

A red-haired and fiery Claude Rains and his umbrella lead the way as Professor Challenger, the regal Michael Rennie is Lord John Roxton and Al (David) Hedison is our reporter Al Malone. There is the addition of Fernando Lamas as a helicopter pilot named Gomez, who travels with his guitar and is apt to break into a lovely ballad. Jill St. John plays Jennifer Holmes, the publisher’s daughter, whose impractical outfits are reason enough to watch at times. A native girl (Vitina Marcus) helps them out.

David Warner, left, and John Rhys-Davies make excellent frenemies in The Lost World (1992).

1992 TV movie. Directed by Timothy Bond.

This clearly has that look of a made-for-TV movie, but I didn’t mind. Casting John Rhys-Davies and his bellowing voice as Professor Challenger is a no-brainer and ups the entertainment value substantially. The late David Warner play Summerlee; a young Eric McCormick is our newspaper reporter. There’s no Sir Roxton in this version, though he’s not missed because Summerlee has much more to do – and did I mention he’s played by David Warner?

The young female along this time is a photographer named Jenny Nielson (played by Tamara Gorski) whose rich family contributed to the trip. Also along for the ride: A young newsboy stowaway and pretty native Malu (Nathania Stanford) who will guide them and create a love triangle that thankfully doesn’t get in the way of the plot.

An adorable dinosaur in The Lost World (1992).

The action moves to Africa giving us more to fear, including two warring tribes, one of which likes to feed people to the dinosaurs. Still, this film has much more humor than the other versions and isn’t quite so scary since some of the dinosaurs look so warm and cuddly. At the end, our adventurers promise to return to their new friends which they do in the sequel Return to the Lost World, filmed simultaneously with the same cast and director.

And still more

Yes, there are more adaptations, although they aren’t as readily available for viewing. Here’s a super quick take on three. You can also find some animated versions, too.

1998: Handsome Patrick Bergin took on the role of Challenger in this American-Canadian made-for-TV film. Set in Mongolia, it goes for the terror instead of the laughs.

1999: This Australian-Canadian TV series aired for three seasons (22 episodes each) with New Zealand actor Peter McCauley as Challenger.

2001: Bob Hoskins is another solid choice as Challenger in this BBC production, considered the most faithful adaptation of the novel by the Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia. James Fox, Matthew Rhys and Peter Falk co-star.

 Toni Ruberto for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Toni’s Monsters and Matinees articles here.

Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is a member of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and now leads the offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs. She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto.

Posted in Horror, Monsters and Matinees, Posts by Toni Ruberto | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Noir Nook: Femme Entrances – Part 2

Noir Nook: Femme Entrances – Part 2

Last month, I offered up four femmes who provided us with some of the best entrances in film noir: Cora Smith (Lana Turner) in The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946), Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck) in Double Indemnity (1944), Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer) in Out of the Past (1947), and Alice Reed (Joan Bennett) in Woman in the Window (1944). This month, I’m wrapping up this series with four more noir femmes with memorable entrances.


Rita Hayworth in Gilda (1946)

Rita Hayworth in Gilda (1946)
Rita Hayworth in Gilda (1946)

The story of Gilda has a number of themes and several moving parts, including jealousy, revenge, passion, and a “tungsten cartel” (whatever that is) – but at its core is the thin line between love and hate. In the title role, Rita Hayworth plays the mysterious Gilda, whose past is almost completely unfamiliar to us, except that we know she once loved and somehow lost one Johnny Farrell (Glenn Ford), the right-hand man to casino owner Ballin Mundson (George Macready). We find this out when Ballin returns from a trip with a new wife: Gilda. And it’s Gilda’s reunion with Johnny that provides the backdrop for her iconic entrance. Johnny arrives at Ballin’s home, eager to see his boss after his time away. When Ballin opens the door to his bedroom, we hear – along with Johnny – the sultry sounds of a woman’s voice, vocalizing along with a record. As recognition slowly registers on Johnny’s face, Ballin calls out, “Gilda. Are you decent?” Our gaze is taken inside the room where Gilda, from a position below the camera, suddenly sits up, tosses back her mane of hair, and smilingly queries, “Me?” She then sees Johnny as he emerges from the shadows, and her smile fades. “Sure,” she says, pulling up her dress to cover one shoulder. “I’m decent.” It’s an introduction that will practically take your breath away.


Ava Gardner in The Killers (1946)

Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster in The Killers (1946)
Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster in The Killers (1946)

The Killers opens with two hitmen hunting down ex-boxer Ole Andersson (Burt Lancaster), and fatally shooting him in his bed. The remainder of the film focuses on the attempts of an insurance investigator (Edmund O’Brien) to find out who killed Ole and why. As the story unfolds through a series of flashbacks, we get to know Ole, his girlfriend Lilly Harmon (Virginia Christine, later the pitchwoman for Folgers Coffee), his best friend (Sam Levene), and Kitty Collins (Ava Gardner), the woman who steals his heart. More than 30 minutes into the film, we meet Kitty when Ole and Lilly attend a party. Upon their arrival, they’re greeted by the tinkling of piano keys and ushered over to the hostess of the shindig, Kitty, who’s seated on the piano bench with her back to us. She’s dressed in a satiny black, one-shoulder gown, and even before we see her face, we suspect that she’s something special. Mind you, her entrance isn’t at all flashy – it’s brief and low-key. When she’s introduced to Ole and Lilly, Kitty turns toward them, flashes a pleasant smile, offers a simple “hello” and then turns away again. The exchange lasts less than five seconds, but Ole’s drawn to her like he’s made of steel and Kitty has magnets sewn into the hem of her dress. (And in that same span of time, Lilly knows that her relationship with Ole has come to an end.)


Peggy Cummins in Gun Crazy (1950)

Peggy Cummins in Gun Crazy (1950)
Peggy Cummins in Gun Crazy (1950)

Gun Crazy tells the tale of Annie Laurie Starr (Peggy Cummins) and Bart Tare (John Dall), star-crossed lovers a la Bonnie and Clyde who are adept at gun play, fall madly in love, and go on a crime spree. The film’s action begins when Bart returns home after an army stint and hooks up with two boyhood chums to attend a local carnival. When the trio pays a visit to a sharpshooting show – which is right up the gun-loving Bart’s alley – he gets his first eyeful of Laurie. Before she enters, she’s introduced to the crowd by Packy (Berry Kroeger), the carnival’s owner and manager, who gives her quite a build-up, calling her “the famous, the dangerous, the beautiful… direct from London, England, and the capitols of the continent… so appealing, so dangerous, so lovely to look at!” Following this, we hear a series of shots and see smoke from the gunfire – and into the frame enters Laurie, dressed in a western outfit and a gun in each hand. With a sultry gaze, she surveys the crowd, spots Bart (who is excitedly leaning forward in his seat with a face covered in grin), points a gun at him, and pulls the trigger. Bart is hooked.


Jean Wallace in The Big Combo (1955)

Jean Wallace in The Big Combo (1955)
Jean Wallace in The Big Combo (1955)

One of my best-loved noirs, The Big Combo stars Cornel Wilde as Leonard Diamond, a highly principled detective who is determined to bring down local mob boss Mr. Brown (Richard Conte). Jean Wallace is Susan Lowell, a fragile, unstable socialite who is not only Mr. Brown’s mistress, but also the object of Diamond’s desire from afar. We meet Susan as the film opens, in the bowels of a boxing arena. Clad in a strapless black cocktail dress and heels and accompanied by the sounds of the roaring crowd, Susan is running in and out of the shadows; we soon see that she is being chased by two men – Mingo (Earl Holliman) and Fante (Lee Van Cleef), who are minions of Mr. Brown. After managing to elude them for a while, she’s finally caught, with one man on each side and Mingo holding onto her arm. Susan asks them to let her go, but they refuse. (“Mr. Brown is mad already. We lost you for two minutes.”) Susan promises that she won’t run away and Mingo releases her arm. When he does, without missing a beat, Susan smacks him in the face with her clutch purse, gives a haughty sniff, and walks away, her head held high. It may not be the first femme entrance you think of, but it’s one you won’t forget.

And that’s it! Do you have any favorite femme entrances? Let me know!

– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Karen’s Noir Nook articles here.

Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages.
If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here:

Posted in Noir Nook, Posts by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Silver Screen Standards: Bombshell (1933)

Silver Screen Standards: Bombshell (1933)

Bombshell (1933) Jean Harlow bed
With tousled curls, Lola wakes to another day of chaos and early morning studio calls.

Played a different way, Bombshell (1933) would be a tragic drama about the relentless pressures and manipulation faced by a young actress in 1930s Hollywood, and certainly that was a reality that many stars, including Jean Harlow, knew all too well. I find it difficult sometimes to watch Harlow, as sparkling and vivacious as she is, without being constantly aware of the devastating brevity of her life, but we owe it to her to celebrate her comedic genius by laughing at her salty, feisty characters, especially the impulsive, hard-working Lola Burns. Bombshell tells a lot of ugly truths about Hollywood, but it does so with satiric glee, and it features a wealth of crackerjack supporting performances that Harlow keeps pace with like a true champ.

Bombshell (1933) Lee Tracy and Jean Harlow
Despite their constant conflict, Space and Lola have history and chemistry together, and Space resents the other men in Lola’s life.

Harlow plays a semi-autobiographical role as Hollywood It Girl Lola Burns, who makes five pictures a year and supports an extravagant retinue of relatives, parasites, and pets. Her problems are compounded by the studio’s unscrupulous publicist, Space Hanlon (Lee Tracy), who torments Lola with his lies and setups but also jealously undermines her relationships with other men. Fed up with her household and Space’s manipulative plots, Lola flees to a desert resort, where she soon falls into a romance with handsome, aristocratic Gifford Middleton (Franchot Tone), who claims he has never even heard of the famous movie star.

Bombshell (1933) Franchot Tone, Mary Forbes, C. Aubrey Smith, Jean Harlow
Lola falls for Gifford (Franchot Tone), but his aristocratic parents (Mary Forbes and C. Aubrey Smith) are not impressed by her movie star status.

The action of Bombshell never lets up; it approaches comedy in a manner appropriate to its title, with gags blowing up every scene and conversation. It’s stuffed with wacky characters, played by iconic comic actors, and each of them seems determined to steal every scene. Fast-talking Lee Tracy leads the pack with his trademark wisecracks and patter, but Frank Morgan gives him stiff competition as Lola’s incorrigible father, blustering his way through whoppers and looking absurdly dapper in his striped trousers. The equally sharp Una Merkel plays Lola’s opportunistic secretary, Mac, who holds her own against Lola’s male relatives in both hilarity and crookedness, while Louise Beavers plays the loyalist of the lot as Lola’s maid, Loretta. Beavers’ role might have been just another stereotypical maid part for a Black actress, but Loretta gets some very good scenes early on, especially her bit about the ruined negligee and her bold retort to Mac about knowing where the bodies are buried. Even small roles are filled by top-notch players like Pat O’Brien, Ted Healy, C. Aubrey Smith, and Isabel Jewell.

Bombshell (1933) Frank Morgan Jean Harlow
Lola’s father (Frank Morgan) holds forth with another stream of lies about the family history for a magazine interview with the star.

It would be easy to get lost in such a whirlwind, but Harlow shines throughout. Her Lola is a woman of endless variety; she’s glamorous in spangled gowns, sweet for the orphanage committee, furious with Space, and gaga for Gifford, but Harlow makes each mood memorable. Her pining for a baby is noteworthy among the picture’s more dramatic moments, especially when Space’s machinations crush her dream. Just when we’ve decided that she’s really a victim and sensibly done with the movie business, Harlow reveals the truth about Lola’s ambition and vanity, with some help from the ever-scheming Space, of course. Lola thinks she wants retirement and domesticity, but she also wants to sign autographs, beat out her rival for a role, and have her disappearance talked about in all the newspapers. She isn’t charmed that Gifford has never heard of her; she’s shocked. She careens from romance to romance and from one urge to the next, making her departure from Hollywood just another mercurial whim. Only in the middle of the chaos does Lola look like the grounded one. Outside it, we realize that the whirlwind suits her. Harlow, known for her bad girl roles and sex appeal, makes both the softer side and the zaniness of Lola appealing, investing the character with her own tremendous screen presence.

Victor Fleming is uncredited for his directorial work on Bombshell, but he also directed Harlow in Red Dust (1932), the film Lola Burns is supposed to be shooting retakes for with the famous barrel scene. For more of Harlow’s most memorable roles, see The Public Enemy (1931), Dinner at Eight (1933), and Libeled Lady (1936). Lee Tracy also appears in Dinner at Eight, but you can see more of him in Pre-Codes like Doctor X (1932), The Half-Naked Truth (1932), and Blessed Event (1932). The delightful Una Merkel also teams with Harlow in Red-Headed Woman (1932), Riffraff (1936), and Saratoga (1937), while Franchot Tone reunites with her in The Girl from Missouri (1934), Reckless (1935), and Suzy (1936). I like Harlow in all of her pictures, but I’m especially fond of Hold Your Man (1933) and Wife vs. Secretary (1936).

— Jennifer Garlen for Classic Movie Hub

Jennifer Garlen pens our monthly Silver Screen Standards column. You can read all of Jennifer’s Silver Screen Standards articles here.

Jennifer is a former college professor with a PhD in English Literature and a lifelong obsession with film. She writes about classic movies at her blog, Virtual Virago, and presents classic film programs for lifetime learning groups and retirement communities. She’s the author of Beyond Casablanca: 100 Classic Movies Worth Watching and its sequel, Beyond Casablanca II: 101 Classic Movies Worth Watching, and she is also the co-editor of two books about the works of Jim Henson.

Posted in Posts by Jennifer Garlen, Silver Screen Standards | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment