Translate

Showing posts with label liquor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label liquor. Show all posts

Thursday, October 15, 2015

FILM REVIEW OF ''THE HALLELUJAH TRAIL" (1965)


In his well-researched landmark biography of John Sturges, film critic Glenn Lovall points out the failure of “The Hallelujah Trail” at the box office forced John Sturges back into being a contract director. Unfortunately, this ambitious, $ 7 million dollar, two-hour and forty-five minute western extravaganza did prove to be Sturges’ undoing.  Sadly, according to Wikipedia, this United Artists’ release generated only $4 million during its initial release. Nevertheless, I’ve always thought it was an incredibly hilarious and splendidly staged western comedy.  The closest that Sturges had come to making a comedy was the Frank Sinatra & Dean Martin western “Sergeants Three,” but “The Hallelujah Trail” (*** OUT OF ****) was far from anything that “The Magnificent Seven” helmer had ever undertaken.  Sturges assembled a first-rate cast.  Burt Lancaster, who starred in Sturges’ first big western “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral,” took top billing as Colonel Thaddeus Gearhart.  Gearhart was a traditional, straight-laced U.S. Calvary commander who is in charge of a frontier fort who has a beautiful daughter, Louise Gearhart (Pamela Tiffin of “One, Two, Three”), who is hopelessly in love with an officer, Captain Paul Slater (Jim Hutton of “Major Dundee”), who serves under Gearhart at the fort.  At one point, Gearhart finds Slater and his daughter rolling around on his bear skin rug.  The hugely funny western takes advantage of the usual elements of most standard-issue oaters.  There is the inevitable clash between the U.S. Calvary and the Native Americans.  Similarly, the alcoholic frontiersmen ruffle the feathers of the Ladies of the Temperance Movement.  This sprawling, ‘battle of the sexes’ western brings together all these parties for an incredible finale in a swamp.

John Gay’s complicated screenplay based on William Gulick’s entertaining western novel concerns the efforts of desperate Denver merchants inspired by 'Oracle' Jones (Donald Pleasence of “The Great Escape”) to get a wagon train of liquor to them before they exhaust their supplies for the winter.  Signs indicate that the winter will be the worst in years, and the merchants refuse to run out of suds.  Moreover, a citizens’ committee shares the merchant’s anxiety.  Meantime, beer merchant Frank Wallingham (Brian Keith of “The Wind and the Lion”) organizes an emergency shipment of booze to Denver. However, he must contend with some obnoxious Irish teamsters, led by Kevin O'Flaherty (Tom Stern of “Clay Pigeon”), who feel he is exploiting them.  O'Flaherty constantly addresses Wallingham as “your lordship,” and Wallingham grumbles about it the entire time.  Of course, when the Indians learn about this huge shipment of liquor, they decide to help themselves to it.  Walllingham demands that Gearhart provide an escort to safeguard his booze from Chief Walks-Stooped-Over (Martin Landau of “Impossible Impossible”) as well as Chief Five Barrels (Robert J. Wilke of “The Magnificent Seven”) and they bring along their respective tribes.  If contending with Indians armed with Winchester repeating rifles weren’t enough of a challenge, Wallingham faces opposition from a well-known Temperance champion, Miss Cora Templeton Massingale (Lee Remick of “The Omen”), who just happens to be holding meetings at Gearhart’s fort.  Massingale decides to intercept the shipment of suds and destroy the cargo, and Gearhart’s daughter joins her. Naturally, an upset Colonel Gearhart decides Sergeant Buell (John Anderson of “The Satan Bug”) and he must provide an escort for these dames to keep them out of harm’s way.

Lancaster is absolutely brilliant as the square-jawed, Calvary colonel who must supervise everything in this massive sagebrusher. His comic timing is impeccable.  The scenes he has with Lee Remick will keep you in stitches as she manipulates him skillfully throughout the narrative. The contempt these two characters have for each other inevitably brings them together in the long run. The dialogue is crisp and smirk inducing, especially when Gearhart reprimands his top sergeant to his lack of Army strategy.  Sturges doesn’t slight anybody, and he gives some rather unusual parts to actors who had never done anything like these roles. Martin Landau is terrifically amusing as Chief Who Walks Stooped Over, and British actor Donald Pleasence, who eventually played villain in “Will Penny,” is cast as a barfly.  Crowning all these wonderful performances is Elmer Bernstein’s impressive orchestral score and “Satan Bug” lenser Robert Surtee’s radiant widescreen photography. In addition to “The Hallelujah Trail,” Surtees photographed not only “Escape from Fort Bravo,” but also “The Law and Jake Wade” for Sturges.  If you enjoy happily-ever-after comedies where the performers behave as if they were is a serious dramatic saga, “The Hallelujah Trail” qualifies as ideal entertainment.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

FILM REVIEW OF ''THE RAVEN" (2012)



The age old issue that arises for every generation is the impact of the media on society. Does watching movies, playing video games, and perusing literature prompt us to imitate the actions of fictional characters in certain situations?  “V for Vendetta” director James McTeigue with “Loverboy” scenarist Hannah Shakespeare and rookie writer Ben Livingston have contrived a complicated but uninspired serial killer murder mystery about Edgar Allan Poe.  Basically, an anonymous criminal has decided to use Poe as a blueprint for his diabolical deeds.  The idea isn’t even that original.  Back in 1973, horror icon Vincent Price played a vengeful Shakespearean actor in “Theatre of Blood” who murdered several callous theater critics in re-enactments of death in Shakespeare’s plays. No, Poe is not the serial killer stalking and killing innocent victims.  Beware, although “The Raven” (** out of ****) gets some of Poe’s biographical details correct, the filmmakers err horribly in other instances.  Ironically, the poor slob cut in two by a giant pendulum outlived Poe and did his best to destroy Poe’s literary legacy.  The individual referred to here is Rufus Wilmot Griswold.  Sadly, “The Raven” unravels about an hour into the narrative, and McTeigue and his scribes have tacked on a finale that looks like loose threads being tied up.  The biggest mistake that the filmmakers make is the absence of red herrings to throw us off the scent.  Simply put, "The Raven" never allows us to guess the identity of the villain and the alternatives to the villain are none.  Consequently, the mystery part of this movie is woefully underwritten.

  
 You can almost imagine how this formulaic thriller with gorgeous costumes and atmospheric locales came about during the pre-production phrase.  Presumably, the studio picked Poe not only because he was one of America’s leading literary lights of the nineteenth century, but also the copyright has long since lapsed on his literature.  Imagine this scenario at a production conference.  Studio Executive # 1: “Let’s make Edgar into an action hero like they did Sherlock Holmes?”  Studio Executive # 2: “Of course, the authorities will threaten to arrest Poe if he refuses to help them solve the crime.”  Studio Executive # 1:  “The police want Poe to psychoanalyze the killer to predict his next move.”  Studio Executive # 3: “Our killer must imitate the homicides from Poe's stories.”  Studio Executive # 2, “Naturally, Poe has a blonde girlfriend straight off the cover of Cosmo.  She must be abducted by the killer and held hostage.”  Finally, Studio Executive # 1 says: “Presto, we’ve got the greatest hits of Edgar Allan Poe.  We can make allusions to “The Pit and Pendulum,” “The Tell-Tale Heart,” "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," “The Cask of Amontillado,” and “The Mystery of Marie Roget.”

 “The Raven” opens with some minor biographical details about Poe and his mysterious death on May 7, 1849, in Baltimore, Maryland.  Typically, movies about a hero who dies are usually box office poison.  Moreover, Poe is such an obnoxious fellow that you don’t care what happens to him.  He admits at one point, “I’ve got nothing left,” adding, “I’ve used up all my tricks.”  The Edgar Allan Poe that “The Raven” presents is an egomaniac skidding into obscurity.  A hopeless alcoholic, Poe doesn’t possess enough money to purchase his next drink.  Initially, it appears that he has no friends except for a pet raccoon named Carl. If all this weren’t awful enough, Edgar learns he is not going to be published.  Earlier, he assured a bartender that he would be living like a sultan when the newspaper published his literary criticism.  Since he cannot pay for a drink, Poe appropriates a stranger’s drink. outside Before he realizes what has happened, Poe finds himself unceremoniously expelled from the taven.  Actor John Cusack strives to make this tortured, nineteenth century genius appear sympathetic, but there is little to like about him.

Predictably, the first image is a raven perched on a tree branch overlooking a park where our dour protagonist is sitting on a bench. Afterward, the filmmakers backtrack about a week before with a scene that looks straight out of the first “Sherlock Holmes” movie with Robert Downey, Jr.  A madman has slashed a woman’s throat with a razor, strangled her daughter, and stuffed the daughter’s body in a chimney. When the police arrive, they hear a key locking the door from within and have to smash their way into the room.  They are genuinely puzzled because they can find nobody else in the room.  Further, the window through which the suspect could only have escaped is nailed shut.  Detective Inspector Fields (Luke Evans of “The Three Musketeers”) arrives and manages to open the window.  Eventually, he remembers that he read about a similar incident in the macabre fiction of Edgar Allan Poe.  Fields recruits a reluctant Poe to serve as a crime consultant.

When Poe isn’t dabbling in real-life murders, he is having an affair with stunning Emily Hamilton (Alice Eve of “Sex in the City 2”) whose father has nothing but contempt for him.  Indeed, Captain Hamilton (Brendan Gleeson of “Safe House”) threatens to shoot Poe on sight if he catches the renowned author with his daughter.   No sooner does Poe propose to Emily than the insane psycho kidnaps her, and things really come to a boil. The murders in “The Raven” are not for the squeamish.  Make no mistake, McTeigue earns his R-rating for bloody violence and grisly images.  The pendulum scene ranks as the most graphic as the descending blade eviscerates a book critic and then gets jammed in the table where the man lay.  The problem with “The Raven” is that it lacks the compelling quality that a good murder-mystery requires if we the audience are to overlook some of the far-fetched plot logistics.  Reconsider the pendulum scene.  When Poe visits the scene of the crime, he is impressed by the size of the counterweight.  Where could a killer—insane or not—buy a pendulum of that size and install it without attracting attention?  This question and others—like the spring loaded window nails are things that shouldn’t concern us. Furthermore, The filmmakers never provide us with a gallery of suspects to choose from as the killer before the reprobate reveals himself.  Ultimately, the villain doesn't amount to much.  Despite his diabolical exploits, he comes off as hopeless colorless. Unfortunately, McTeigue doesn’t orchestrate the action with enough verve to distract us from these questions.  "The Raven" stumbles from one anemic scene to next with little energy. 


Cusack is acceptable as Poe, but looks morose and miscast.   Poe probably was never in the physical shape required to  pull off the stunts that Cusack's double does.  Luke Evans does an exceptional job as the police inspector who will go to any lengths to solve the crime and get his man.  Alice Eve is a feast for the eyes.  Meanwhile, Brendan Gleeson and Kevin McNally, who plays Poe’s editor, are squandered in thankless peripheral roles. "The Raven" qualifies as Poe-thetic!



Thursday, December 30, 2010

FILM REVIEW OF ''TRUE GRIT" (2010)

Remaking a classic movie is often a risky proposition. More often than not, Hollywood filmmakers aim high but wind up shooting low. "O, Brother Where Art Thou?" co-writer and directors Ethan and Joel Coens' remake of director Henry Hathaway's "True Grit" (1969), with John Wayne in his only Oscar winning performance, qualifies as the exception to the rule. Not only do the Coens aim high, but they also hit the bull's-eye. Ostensibly, they have done a splendid job with their first horse opera, and Jeff Bridges has filled some mighty big boots without stumbling. Strictly speaking, the Coens' "True Grit" (***1/2 OUT OF ****) isn't the first remake. Few remember director Richard T. Heffron's TV remake of "True Grit" with character actor Warren Oates donning the eye patch as Marshal Rooster Cogburn. Heffron's 1978 television pilot for a proposed TV series went belly up. Meanwhile, the salient differences between Hathaway's version and the Coens' remake boils down to the differences in the respective performances between Wayne and Bridges. Mind you, Bridges doesn't impersonate Wayne so much as deliver his own interpretation of the cantankerous protagonist from author Charles Portis' western bestseller. Indeed, Bridges sports his eye patch over his right eye rather than the left as Wayne did. The Coens have gone back to the Charles Portis novel and shifted the emphasis from the pugnacious Cogburn to plucky teenage heroine Mattie Ross.

When family man Frank Ross is gunned down in cold blood in Fort Smith, Arkansas, his 14-year old daughter Mattie (newcomer Hailee Steinfeld) leaves her ranch in Yell County near Dardanelle to avenge his death. Hired hand Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin of "Jonah Hex") murdered the Ross patriarch, robbed him, stole his horse and then disappeared into the Indian Territory. The Indian Territory here is what eventually became the state of Oklahoma . Mattie arrives in Fort Smith by train determined to bring her father's killer to justice. She learns that the Fort Smith authorities have issued a warrant on Chaney. Unfortunately, they can't arrest Chaney since the Indian nation lies beyond their jurisdiction. Eventually, Mattie finds the right man to help her. U.S. Marshal Reuben J. Cogburn, better known thereabouts as 'Rooster,' is described to her by the sheriff as "a pitiless man, double-tough, and fear don't enter into his thinking." The sheriff adds that Rooster craves liquor. Mattie manages to recruit Rooster (Jeff Bridges of "The Big Lebowski") with an offer to pay him $100. About that time an upstart, cocksure Texas Ranger, LaBoeuf (Matt Damon of "The Departed"), shows up and derails Mattie's plans. LaBoeuf convinces Rooster to leave Mattie behind. Chaney, it seems, shot a Texas senator, and LaBeouf has been tracking him for the enormous reward that the family will pay. LaBoeuf promises to share the reward with Rooster.

Tenacious little Mattie refuses to be left behind. She pursues Rooster and LaBoeuf, swims her horse across a treacherous river, and demands that the marshal return her money. She threatens to prosecute Rooster for betraying her, and LaBoeuf gives her a spanking to silence her. The sight of LaBoeuf whipping the poor teen changes Rooster's mind, and he allows Mattie to ride along with them. A disgusted LaBoeuf parts company with them. Later, Rooster and Mattie sneak up on two grubby gunmen inside a remote cabin. Rooster shoots one of them after the other kills his criminal cohort. The two outlaws fell out with each other after the younger one informed Rooster that they were holding fresh horses for notorious outlaw Lucky Ned Pepper. When Ned (Barry Pepper of "Saving Private Ryan") and his gang show up at the cabin, they run into LaBoeuf. LaBoeuf finds himself caught up in the cross-fire between Rooster and Ned. Accidentally, Rooster wounds LaBoeuf in the melee, and Ned escapes. Inexplicably, this is the only scene that the Coens changed substantially that Portis did not have in his novel.

Mattie cannot believe they have lost their only lead to Tom Chaney. Earlier, the Fort Smith authorities said that Chaney had thrown in with Ned and helped rob a train. Everybody is set to ride their separate ways when Mattie stumbles onto Chaney. She has gone to the river to fetch water for Rooster when she encounters Chaney. Without a qualm, Mattie brandishes her father's black powder revolver and shoots Chaney. The villainous Chaney survives Mattie's shot and takes her prisoner. Ned rides up and warns Rooster that he will kill Mattie if Rooster doesn't ride off. Ned leaves Mattie with Chaney and warns the outlaw to refrain from harming her. Naturally, Chaney has other ideas. Anybody who has seen the original knows about the infamous snake pit scene when Mattie tumbles into the craggy rocks and gets snake bitten. The consequences are more realistic in this version.

You'll have to look long and hard to complain about the differences between the Coens' "True Grit" and the Hathaway original. Sure, some differences are obvious. Ultimately, however, those differences don't amount to much. The opening and the ending scenes differ. The original "True Grit" dramatized the exposition that opens the new "True Grit." Mattie appears as a fully grown woman in the ending. Bridges doesn't leap a four-rail fence with his horse, and co-star Matt Damon fares better than country music crooner Glen Campbell did in the Wayne version. Actually, Damon winds up in what constitutes a supporting role rather than a co-starring role. Josh Brolin is probably too luminous a star to be shoe-horned into his cameo as the villain that character actor Jeff Corey created. Barry Pepper has a difficult time banishing the memory of Robert Duvall who played the first Lucky Ned Pepper. As Mattie Ross, Hailee Steinfeld is closer in actual age to the heroine than 21-year old Kim Darby was in the first film. The audiences that may be most upset with the new "True Grit" will likely be those who have seen every Coen movie. "True Grit" doesn't bristle with their usual trademark helping of irony and eccentricity. Surprisingly, for a change, the Coens play things pretty much straight down the line. In other words, their remake of the Hathaway classic is reverential.