What Was The Last Movie You Watched?

[Fading Fast]

A Handful of Dust from 1988 with Kristin Scott Thomas, James Wilby, Rupert Graves, Alec Guinness and Judi Dench


This visually appealing adaptation of the Evelyn Waugh novel A Handful of Dust is like an episode of Downton Abbey without the slickness. This more-sedate approach is fine, but unfortunately, the movie still falls short of capturing the nuance and insights of Waugh's novel.

Once you accept that it's not going to live up to the book or zing along like Downton, it's an enjoyable trip to the upper-class world of 1930s England – a world of country estates, fox hunts, London flats, private clubs, and bed-hopping by bored married people.

Kristin Scott Thomas plays one of those bored married people whose bed-hopping wrecks what should have been a happy marriage and family. Her husband, played by James Wilby, is a kind man – their life on a country estate, with their young boy, seems quite nice.

Wilby loves the estate, which absorbs most of their substantial income to maintain, but he's content just being there. Scott Thomas, though, is bored, which has her eyeing London society and a young handsome bounder of a man, played by Rupert Graves.

The estate itself centers the picture by serving as a symbol of an "Old England" which is too expensive to maintain, like the Empire itself would soon become. For many, though, like Wilby, it is hard to give it up, as they don't want to let the England of Shakespeare and Camelot go.

In this vein, Scott Thomas' quest for freedom from the estate is really asking for a different kind of marriage, which she will make for herself when Wilby won't give it to her. Unfortunately, she does a shabby job of it, not unlike the way England would eventually give up her Empire.

Back in the narrative, Scott Thomas, pretty in a thin, wan way, drives the affair as younger Graves is a bit naive, but Scott Thomas knows what she wants. For modern audiences, part of the fun is seeing how there is an "acceptable" way these things are done in England's upper class.

In 1930s England, "class consciousness" is everywhere, as even the servants have their hierarchies, which they guard as passionately as the upper classes guard theirs. Thus, the family's nanny demands to receive the appropriate amount of "respect" from the estate's groom.

All of this – all the proper respect, public face, presenting of cards, deference, etc. – works until it doesn't. Here, a tragic event breaks the social wall of silence, which leads to Wilby learning of the affair.

The movie now shifts gears from a story with a pleasant surface but plenty of subterfuge, to Scott Thomas requesting a divorce from a temporarily benumbed Wilby who truly thought he had a good, safe marriage. Things get rough for everyone from here.

Scott Thomas must now try to turn an affair, whose oxygen was its "secrecy" and freshness, into a regular old relationship, with all its mundane issues and pressures – especially now that money isn't freely flowing her way.

Wilby, almost on a whim, joins an expedition planning to go deep into Brazil, where he falls ill, loses his guide, and winds up "saved" by a quirky German, played by Alec Guinness, who lives permanently in the rainforest. Guiness' role here is a small but pivotal one.

As always, Guinness somehow managed to play Alec Guinness, but also creates a notable character you'll remember. He's like a quirky version of Cary Grant. In this one, Guinness brings the story to a truly surprising conclusion.

There is, though unfortunately, a lot of nuance in the book regarding events, including the affair, the divorce, how the estate runs, and how Graves lets Thomas manipulate him for his advantage, that isn't fully captured on screen owing to the movie's need to cover a lot of ground quickly.

This leaves the movie feeling ordinary, as without those nuanes, it's just another story of decadence and decline in England's upper-classes, which was already on its last legs by the 1930s anyway. That is a story that's been told countless times in other books and movies.

It is beautifully filmed with lovely period details, but the effort, overall, comes across as a bit bland. The acting is professional – look for Judi Dench playing Grave's shrewd but irritating mother – but nobody other than Guinness gives a memorable performance.

A Handful of Dust is not Waugh's best novel (comments on the book here: #9,231 ), but it is a fun read full of humor and insightful digs at the ridiculousness of society and class structure in 1930s England. On-screen, however, much of that is lost, leaving it just another pretty movie about England's decline.

It is, though, an elegant period piece that provides a look at the faded glory of the Empire, as we see a new generation buffeted by winds of change it cannot stop or control. Flaws and all, the movie is a small, imperfect window into a pivotal moment in twentieth century history.

 

[Trenchfriend]

@Fading Fast
What a cast!

 

[Julian Shellhammer]

Too Late for Tears (1949) with Lizabeth Scott, Dan Duryea, Arthur Kennedy, and amiable Don Defore, dir. Byron (Robinson Crusoe on Mars) Haskins. I have posted on this a long time ago, but the Missus and I introduced this gritty noir to the relatives, and they were stunned by how rotten Scott's character is.

After Office Hours (1935) with Clark Gable, Constance Bennett, and many others. Hard-bitten, hard-driving Gable is a news reporter who'll do anything to nab a story. Bennett is a socialite connected to a murder. Night club life, fabulously wealthy capitalists, and Billie Burke doing her best Billie Burke. Murder erupts and Gable et al figure it out.

Four's a Crowd (1938) with Errol Flynn as a rascally PR genius, Olivia DeHavilland as the granddaughter of millionaire Walter Connelly, Rosalind Russell as an ace reporter, and a ton of dependable second-bananas. Flynn wants to land a PR contract with Connelly, Russell wants to save a bankrupt newspaper, and DeHavilland is involved with the another millionaire. Each of them loves the person they're not with. IMDb alleges this was a flop with the public. It doesn't quite attain screwball status, but it filled our evening just fine.

 

[Fading Fast]

Too Late for Tears (1949) with Lizabeth Scott, Dan Duryea, Arthur Kennedy, and amiable Don Defore, dir. Byron (Robinson Crusoe on Mars) Haskins. I have posted on this a long time ago, but the Missus and I introduced this gritty noir to the relatives, and they were stunned by how rotten Scott's character is.

After Office Hours (1935) with Clark Gable, Constance Bennett, and many others. Hard-bitten, hard-driving Gable is a news reporter who'll do anything to nab a story. Bennett is a socialite connected to a murder. Night club life, fabulously wealthy capitalists, and Billie Burke doing her best Billie Burke. Murder erupts and Gable et al figure it out.

Four's a Crowd (1938) with Errol Flynn as a rascally PR genius, Olivia DeHavilland as the granddaughter of millionaire Walter Connelly, Rosalind Russell as an ace reporter, and a ton of dependable second-bananas. Flynn wants to land a PR contract with Connelly, Russell wants to save a bankrupt newspaper, and DeHavilland is involved with the another millionaire. Each of them loves the person they're not with. IMDb alleges this was a flop with the public. It doesn't quite attain screwball status, but it filled our evening just fine.

Agreed, all are good movies.

"Four's a Crowd" has one of the best model train scenes of all the old movies (which had a good number of them):

https://www.tiktok.com/video/7247120296359087361

 

[Fading Fast]

This Could Be the Night from 1957 with Jean Simmons, Paul Douglas, Anthony Franciosa, Julie Wilson, Joan Blondell, and Neile Adams


This Could Be the Night is a pleasant, lighthearted, slow-burn romcom between two true opposites set in a lively Runyonesque New York City nightclub populated with several "characters" who have their own smaller stories playing out.

The main story follows Jean Simmons as a well-bred, college-educated young woman from Massachusetts who moves to New York City to take a teaching job, but really to experience life out of her comfort zone.

To do that, she also takes an after-school job as a secretary at a rambunctious nightclub owned by two "guys from the street:" one, played by Paul Douglas, is a former bootlegger (many nightclub owners in this era truly were), and the other is played by Anthony Franciosa.

Douglas likes Simmons because she "classes up" the joint, while she's intrigued by all the "characters" she meets, including a vampy street-smart chanteuse, a sexy dancer with a stage mom, and a Muslim kid who wants to change his name so he doesn't keep getting beaten up.

It's a fish-out-of-water story where much of the humor is in small asides, like when proper and diligent Simmons takes a message from a bookmaker word for word, with a confused look on her face as terms like 'scratched' and 'on the nose' don't mean what she thinks they do.

Bouncing around in the story is the theme of class distinction, as almost everyone in the club feels self-conscious to some extent around Simmons. She can't help reading college educated and well mannered, which throws the rhythm of the club off a bit.

That turns into fun, though, as Simmons is a genuinely nice girl who becomes helpful in the lives of her co-workers. Funny scenes follow around cooking contests and algebra problems being solved with a mix of Boston Brahmin pragmatism and New York City street smarts.

Simmons, however, immediately rubs Franciosa the wrong way. He's a rough young guy whose skills are fighting and reading people. He immediately reads her as all wrong for the club. Later, we'll see that his insecurity over his lack of education - the class divide thing - play into this.

Her presence drives a wedge between him and Douglas – good friends and partners – leading Franciosa to fire Simmons, only for Douglas to force him to hire her back. Look for the scene where Franciosa shows up at Simmons' school to do so.

Now Franciosa is the fish out of water because academia isn't his comfort zone, but he knows how to read a room and assess a situation. He takes control of Simmons' momentarily rowdy class with bravado and presence, which makes Simmons look at him anew.

Most of the movie is Simmons swimming in the club's strange waters: she nearly drowns a few times, helps some of the local fish, recognizes she has much to learn, and battles with one of the two head fish, despite beginning to respect him – but there's one more thing in the water: sex.

The overarching tension, never openly discussed, but fully understood, is that Simmons is a virgin. An adult female virgin is a rare species in this urban club environment, and Franciosa, with his swinging bachelor pad, is a threat.

That premise, however – the premise of numerous 1950s battle-of-the-sexes movies – is flipped here, as Franciosa, even though he'd never admit it, respects Simmons. She represents a world he outwardly derides, as he knows it looks down on guys like him, but inwardly, he respects it.

That's why he doesn't want to "conquer" her. Simmons, however, whether on a rumspringa from her safe Boston world or truly forging a new path in life, is intrigued by Franciosa and probably wouldn't mind a tumble – a girl's gotta start sometime.

The climax is the movie's one flaw – no spoilers coming – as it's dragged out too long, feels a bit forced, and leaves things somewhat open-ended. But that's a quibble in a movie that is frivolously funny, smart, and entertaining.

Much of that credit belongs to the cast, with too many outstanding performances to note them all here, but give Simmons a big hand for playing her fish out of water with a pitch-perfect nuance of gumption, smarts, naïveté, and quiet sexiness.

Douglas, too, as the rough, club-running old bootlegger who takes a shine to Simmons, is likable and shows his talent by being not a bit creepy. Sure, he wishes he was twenty years younger, but despite a lack of polish, he's a gentleman in the truest sense of the word.

Franciosa, in his big-screen debut, is enjoyable if a bit showy, but he grows on you. Joan Blondell, Neile Adams (the King of Cool’s wife at the time), and Julie Wilson—who sings her own songs while absolutely smoldering—deserve shoutouts.

Managing this many characters and stories is director Robert Wise, who keeps a brisk pace – he's got a lot to fit in. That makes the movie more enjoyable on subsequent viewings, when it's easier to appreciate the one-liners and club atmosphere.

The movie can easily be dismissed as silly—and it is—but it's also well-crafted entertainment, a goal more movies should aspire to. Hollywood’s true magic – the best thing it sells – is escapism. This Could Be the Night is proudly nothing more than a fun piece of Tinseltown escapism.

 

[Doctor Strange]

I saw it a year or two ago and really liked it. As a Jean Simmons completist, it's always a treat to see her stretch in a somewhat different role.

Note that this film was directed by Robert Wise, who'd also include Simmons in the cast of his next film, Until They Sail. I seem to recall that we all liked that one too.

 

[Fading Fast]

I saw it a year or two ago and really liked it. As a Jean Simmons completist, it's always a treat to see her stretch in a somewhat different role.

Note that this film was directed by Robert Wise, who'd also include Simmons in the cast of his next film, Until They Sail. I seem to recall that we all liked that one too.

We did like that one, very much. I'm a Simmons and Wise fan, too. So put the two together and I'm three-quarters of the way to liking the movie before I've even seen it.

 

[Julian Shellhammer]

Thanksgiving is only two weeks from today: my, oh, my, where does the time go...
A lot of the time goes into watching old old old movies, such as Flaxy Martin (1949), headlined by Virginia Mayo, with Zachary Scott, and Dorothy Malone, under the direction of Richard L. Bare, who did tons of tv work, and scads of short subjects. Also in the story is Elisha Cook, Jr., playing his can't-miss characterization of filmdom's favorite low-level creep. Mayo plays title character Flaxy, a shimmering glowing singer in a nightclub run by Hap Richie, well-upholstered mob boss. Scott is the attorney who gets Hap's criminal minions off the hook in court. But through a series of Hollywood plot hallucinations, Scott ends up railroaded for a murder rap. He escapes and tries to clear his name. It turns into revenge-ing. Though Flaxy's name is top-billed, most of the screen time is Scott on the run.
And some made-for-tv Christmas rom-coms, when I don't want Megalopolis or The Seventh Seal.

 

[Fading Fast]

Thanksgiving is only two weeks from today: my, oh, my, where does the time go...
A lot of the time goes into watching old old old movies, such as Flaxy Martin (1949), headlined by Virginia Mayo, with Zachary Scott, and Dorothy Malone, under the direction of Richard L. Bare, who did tons of tv work, and scads of short subjects. Also in the story is Elisha Cook, Jr., playing his can't-miss characterization of filmdom's favorite low-level creep. Mayo plays title character Flaxy, a shimmering glowing singer in a nightclub run by Hap Richie, well-upholstered mob boss. Scott is the attorney who gets Hap's criminal minions off the hook in court. But through a series of Hollywood plot hallucinations, Scott ends up railroaded for a murder rap. He escapes and tries to clear his name. It turns into revenge-ing. Though Flaxy's name is top-billed, most of the screen time is Scott on the run.
And some made-for-tv Christmas rom-coms, when I don't want Megalopolis or The Seventh Seal.

I enjoyed that one a lot, too. My comments on it here #30,722 (As always, feel free to ignore, we all have too much to do.)

I've watched a few Hallmark Xmas ones, too (kinda in the background). I did enjoy "Rescuing Christmas" and "The Christmas charade."

 

[Fading Fast]

Under Eighteen from 1931 with Marion Marsh, Warren William, Anita Page and Norman Foster


It's not easy to pigeonhole Under Eighteen, an engaging picture that is part kitchen-sink drama (before that name existed), part romcom, and part pre-code sexcapade. Here, these disparate parts are impressively held together by lithe, baby-faced, eighteen-year-old Marian Marsh.

When the Depression hits, Marsh's once middle-class character gets a job as a seamstress at a couture shop to support herself and her mom. Marsh is also in love with a delivery driver, played by Regis Toomey, but she – not he – wants to wait to get married until they have saved more money.

Things then get worse – kitchen-sink-drama worse – when Marsh's older sister, played by Anita Page, and her husband, played by Norman Foster, move in with their baby because Foster gambled away his pool hall business. The couple fights, so Page wants a divorce, but divorces cost money.

The family's survival now rests solely on the delicate shoulders of Marsh, who turns against marriage after watching Page and Foster fight over a lack of money. Worse for her moral compass, Marsh sees all the models at work living upscale lives, funded by their "boyfriends."

The "boyfriends" are either wealthy married men or wealthy playboys who have no intention of getting married. Yet when you can hardly put food on the table, and want to help pay for your sister's divorce attorney, "protecting your virtue" seems trivial.

Enter Warren William playing a rich, hawkish playboy – a familiar role for him in precode Hollywood. Despite already "dating" one of the models in the shop, he takes a shine to Marsh, who looks dewy fresh compared to the hard-boiled pretty models who are really high-end escorts.

That takes you through most of the movie, but the big question still looms: Will Marsh become Willam's "girlfriend" in return for (stripped of its niceties) compensation? You'll have to watch to learn what happens, but the climactic scene at William's Park Avenue Penthouse is a hoot.

The party Marsh walks into at the climax at his apartment, complete with a full-sized rooftop swimming pool, is a modern-day Roman bacchanalia, replete with young, nubile women in tiny bathing suits, freely flowing liquor, and plenty of comings and goings in the bedrooms.

Warner Bros. used its precode freedom here to show life in an honest and raw way; a portrayal that would soon disappear from movies until the kitchen-sink dramas started coming out in the late 1950s / early 1960s. What Warner Bros. put on the screen in 1931 is something to behold.

A family falls from middle class to near poverty; a man gambles away his business; women exchange sex for money (under the guise of "gifts"), and a young girl refuses a nice boy because he's poor, but not because she's greedy, but because she's thinking far ahead.

Central to all of this is that young girl, Marsh, who has to grow up in a hurry. While she makes mistakes, she proves equal to the challenge. It shows there was a genuine "girl power" respect in the culture until the coming enforcement of the movie "Code" pushed it off theater screens.

Marsh's performance is key as she starts out sweet and innocent but not silly. Once life turns against her, she evolves as a person. When reality beats some of the sweetness out of her, she becomes wise but not too bitter. It's an impressively nuanced portrayal of growth.

Honesty, virtue, poverty, pragmatism, reputation, budget struggles, morality, sex, prostitution, and more are all tossed in the blender in Under Eighteen. It's a bit of a muddle, but today you feel like you're getting a peek at the 1930s in a way that only the precode movies showed it.

Managing that mix and the blended styles of kitchen-sink drama, romcom, and sexcapade resulted in a few bumpy scene transitions. Yet overall, director Alexander Hall, by staying honest, captured real life's contradictions, which includes dramatic shifts like in the movie.

Marsh's career never equaled its promise, but in this one, she shows she can carry a complex movie with talent and spirit. The story is a good soap opera, and it's a revealing window into the 1930s with a strong cast, but it's one blonde slip of a woman who makes it a joy to watch.


N.B. Marsh's "missed career opportunity" resulted from a few bad pictures at the wrong time, a few bad career moves on her part – it was hard to buck the studio system in those days – and then a marriage that changed her priorities. A shame for us, but she had a fulfilling life away from the screen.

 

[Fading Fast]

Politics from 1931 with Marie Dressler, Poly Moran, Karen Morley and Roscoe Ates


"I couldn't do it... I don't know a thing about politics... I have all my preserving to do."


If Hallmark and Frank Capra teamed up to make a low-budget short movie with early 1930s sui generis star Marie Dressler, Politics would be the result. It's silly and predictable almost from the first frame, but it's also perfect Depression-Era movie comfort food.

Dressler, in her sixties, built like a refrigerator and with thyroiditis eyes, was a big star for MGM until her death in 1934 at the age of sixty-five. Dressler's acting brand – a combination of kindness, smarts, caring, and strength – struck a chord with struggling audiences.

Here, teamed up with her regular sidekick Polly Moran, Dressler plays a widowed housewife. After a friend of Dressler is shot in a gang-style rub-out at a speakeasy, Dressler confronts the current mayor at a reelection rally.

When the slick male mayor tries to rudely brush Dressler off, the women in the audience, spurred on by Moran, spontaneously nominate Dressler for mayor. Dressler initially demures; as noted in the quote at the top, she has to get her preserving done.

That is Dressler's character in a nutshell: She's just a regular woman who is not personally ambitious, but finally accepts the nomination so she can root out corruption. It's America's Founding Fathers' vision of the average citizen serving for a time in government.

The story gets complicated, though, because Dressler's daughter, played by Karen Morley, is dating a young man in a gang. Because he wants out of the gang, he was the actual target during the same rub-out where Dressler's friend's daughter was killed.

Morley then hides her wounded boyfriend in Dressler's attic as he's afraid he'll be implicated in the murder if the police find out he was there. Of course, if this comes out, it would destroy Dressler's chance of becoming mayor.

All of this is handled in a lighthearted manner with the theme being women – fed up with the poor way men have been handling politics – taking matters into their own hands. There's a strong thread of 1930s proto-feminism woven throughout.

When the men, almost all portrayed as stupid and bullying, refuse to vote for Dressler and even try to break up one of her rallies, the women respond by going on "strike:" no cooking, cleaning or nooky. It is Capraesque cartoonish good versus bad.

Thrown into the mix is an offensive to our modern ears character, the stuttering husband of Moran, played by Roscoe Ates. His speech impediment is played for laughs, but his entire character simply grates today.

If you are new to this style of movie, then the ending might surprise you, but regular fans know that after all the secrets spill out and all hope looks lost, things will work out for Dressler and the young lovers. It's a Hallmark-Capra mashup.

It's mainly Dressler, though, who makes the picture a success. She's a comedic genius whose timing is incredible, and she's simply likable. While she looks like an unmade bed, you love her because she's funny, kind and well meaning.

She knows most of the people around her are stupid, lazy or selfish, but she is forgiving in a genuine way. Dressler simply accepts people's faults and looks for the good in them. She also takes on too much, but soldiers on. She's who you want to be on your best day.

Moran, Dressler's foil, is a bit cartoonish - her emotions are all over the place and her character is written in an inconsistent fashion - but she has undeniable screen chemistry with Dressler.

The other joy in this one is pretty Morley. She, like her mother, has a brain, but like many teenagers makes some poor decisions. Still, she conveys her mother's character; you know she'll get smarter with experience and, heck, you just want her romance to work out.

Taken seriously, Politics doesn't work. But go in with a fun and forgiving attitude, and it is an enjoyable quick hit of a quirky blend of homespun politics, slapstick comedy, and romance.

Today, movies like these have their politics amped way up to make you angry, or they are shuffled off to the land of treacly, made-for-TV cable movies. But in the 1930s, driven by one atypical star, nice movies that blended politics, kindness, and romance enjoyed a brief vogue.

 

[Julian Shellhammer]

Mirage from 1965, in black and white, from director Edward (The Caine Mutiny) Dmytryk, with Gregory Peck and Diane Baker. Walter Matthau gets his own screen credit as a PI. Peck can't remember the past two years of his life, nor can he remember Baker, with whom he may or may not have had a relationship. Sinister types want Peck to turn over something he has, or maybe they'll kill him.

Watch to the end when a.) the source of amnesia is explained, b.) just what the Big Secret is, and c.) the source of those bad guys who want the Big Secret. It's mid-sixties nuclear paranoia, a lot of New York City locations, a sort of Hitchcockian "wrong man" vibe, and a lot of asking us to accept weird events or characters one after another without getting a hint at what's going on.

Quite honestly, the visuals, dialogue, and who-can-you-trust suspense plays out like a feature length Twilight Zone episode. A TZ presentation, at 30 minutes minus commercials, could have told the story.