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SCTV, one of the best comedy shows on television is Canadian. Over the years I bumped into three of the cast in Toronto, two in a record store and one in a bar.

My visits to my in-laws in Ottawa were always augmented by watching Elwe Yost and his classic movie presentations. A genuine film enthusiast!

The Jackie Robinson Story (1950) The Greatest (1977) Annie Hall (1977) (loosely) Sophia Loren: Her Own Story (1980) My Big Fat Greek Wedding (2002) The Class (2008)

I once spent a half hour with a friend in Elwy Yost's office. He was just like the person you saw on television, unassuming and an enthusiast. He allowed us to do most of the talking about movies, however, and seemed to want to hear what we had to say. This was in the days of video tapes so we gave him copies of Along Came Jones and Northern Pursuit, both of which he gladly accepted. At the end of our meeting Elwy invited us to come to his home sometime for a beer. We thanked him but just assumed he was being polite. Years later, though, my friend was speaking to a friend of Yost's and when he mentioned the home invitation to him Yost's friend said that Elwy was a shy man so he probably meant it.

Yes Saturday nights at the Movies on TV Ontario was my favorite tv show for many years.Animated by Elwy Yost he was an outstanding movie historian i would call him. even if he was not in title For many years I watched the show the length was 4-5 hours with 2-3 movies.Yost made multiples interviews in Hollywood etc with actors,producers,writers and directors like Robert Wise,R Fleischer etc.It was a condensed TCM many years before TCM existed,he formed my fascination for classic films,my then girlfriend -for many years-nicknamed him 'my buddy'.Imo he was a better presenterand interviewer than Robert Osborne whom I always liked but was a couple of notches below Yost.Several years ago I suggested to TCM on one of these boards or something to try to licensed the hundreds of interviews Yost made.He was unique and the best I have ever seen on tv.

It's tweaking my memory, but I'm going to have to do some digging. I want to say it's a spinoff of The Beachcombers, but I'm not sure. UPDATE: " Adventures in Rainbow Country", and "Search and Rescue" sound close. Either of those ring a bell? The CBC used to play a lot of vintage movies in the afternoon. It's where I got my fix before I discovered TCM. I grew up in the Lower Mainland, so I remember CBUT well. CTV, Canada's first private TV network, used to fill its schedule with a lot of ITV programming. The cult favourite "The Prisoner" actually made its debut on CTV before it as shown in England. Between that, and KVOS in Bellingham showing so many British films and sitcoms, I developed quite a fondness for British film and TV. SCTV is a national treasure. For an earlier generation, Wayne and Shuster were Canadian comedy gold.

I just watched All About Eve, with Ben Mankiewitz hosting the discussion. I love George Sanders' Oscar winning performance. However, I cannot believe how the hosts, such as Ben M., constantly ignore Sanders' major contributions to the success of each of his pictures. Ben only mentions Sanders at the very end, with a cavalier comment "...and also with George Sanders...". Sanders was the only actor in the picture to earn an Oscar, how about discussing his performance? This kind of disrespect constantly happens with Sanders' pictures.

Sous les toits de Paris (1930) Love Me Tonight (1932) One Hour With You (1932) Roberta (1935) April in Paris (1952) Daddy Long Legs (1954) Silk Stockings (1957) Victor/Victoria (1982) Everyone Says I Love You (1996) The Phantom of the Opera (2004)

Odd Man Out is a true gem of British Noir. Of course, Reed's The Third Man is required viewing for any fan of Film Noir. This goes also, but to a lesser extent, for Reed's The Fallen Idol. If you like Robert Newton's performances, you should check out Hitchcock's Jamaica Inn.

Ok, I think I found it: Moonraker? In preparation to write Moonraker, Ian Fleming did research on a WWII German resistance force, called the Werewolves, and German V-2 rockets.

Johns, Glynis

My choices are all very conventional "A" production choices: The Big Sleep, Double Indemnity, Laura, Out of the Past and The Big Heat.

Another one to listen to on YT is Hoyt Curtin (The Flintstones). Not just the theme, but all the background music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jHlYYyM2Gjw

The Story of Will Rogers (1952) The Bob Mathias Story (1954) The Tommy Steele Story (1954) The Tony Fontana Story (1954) The Ferdinand E. Marcos Story (1965) JCVD (2008) - Jean-Claude van Damme

Saturday October 9, 2021 Seldom on TCM track of the cat

Ernie Coombs, the man who was "Mr. Dressup", got his start as a puppeteer for Fred Rogers, (yes the Mr. Rogers), before striking out on his own. On the West Coast, along with the CBC faire already mentioned, we got Peter Rolston, first in Fun Fair, Planet Pals, and then Pete's Place, on the local CTV stations.

It's a shame that Elwy's interviews with film luminaries aren't more readily available. I recall the time he interviewed a very gracious Greer Garson at her New Mexico home and it became apparent that the two really liked one another, making the interview all the more enjoyable. I also recall the time that Otto Preminger was fascinated by Elwy's first name. "Elwy," he said, "What kind of a name is that?" A few of Elwy's interviews can be found on You Tube. Here he is interviewing John Candy in character as Dr. Tongue from SCTV

Bond drove 1931 4.5 Litre Blower Bentley in Casino Royale. I had a feeling you'd know this one, NS! Your thread...

I’m proud to be a poster on this forum, yes sir.

Think because Halloween is end of October, mention should be made of David Cronenberg and his early horror/Sci-fi films like: "Shivers" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shivers_(1975_ "Rabid" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabid_(1977_film) "The Brood" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Brood "Scanners" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scanners "Videodrome" https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Videodrome And there are more you can check out yourselves: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Cronenberg#Film

Last Saturday, October 2, I watched the Dracula and Frankenstein double-feature in a movie theatre, courtesy of Fathom Events. I've seen Dracula on The Big Screen several times, but had not seen Frankenstein in a movie theatre. Looking at the images on a modern-day movie-theatre screen was quite a thrilling experience. The print was superb, revealing set design and costuming details (a friend who accompanied me marveled at the lace designs on bridal gowns) difficult to discern or even lost on a smaller TV screen. On that note, I thought that I spied Fay Wray as one of the bridesmaids to Henry Frankenstein's fiancée Elizabeth. Humorous Highlight: Fritz (Dwight Frye) scuttling up the stairs, stopping to pull up one of his socks.

Yep, was excellent show. Elwy did many interviews with Hollywood greats that were featured between films. Elwy's son, Graham, is a Hollywood screenwriter who has done much stuff: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graham_Yost

Well then, it might be considered surprising that some activist group didn't voice objection to the name "Chicks" and made them consider changing THAT name to "The PEEPS" Sepiatone

What a relief. Whew! I thought it this was another TCM doomsday thread. But it's only Roku. I can live a normal life now. //

Hard for me to pick favorites between this and "Bride of Frankenstein," but I think I give the nod to the Bride. I do enjoy them both very much. Those early Universal horror pics fly by so frighteningly fast -- especially the ones with the Whale touch. Swithin, are you handicapping the match-up between Sven and whomever TCM puts in the ring? Watch out for a ringer at the last minute, though.

Campbell, Glen

Young, Gig

Thanks Bunny! That was a fun one. I didn't realize how often the other 00s show up in the movies. Next: While Aston Martin is usually thought of as the quintessential Bond car, what make of car does Bond drive in the novels, including the first, Casino Royale? The car was "his only personal hobby." He bought it in 1933 and kept it in storage while serving in World War II. "Bond drove it hard and well and with an almost sensual pleasure."

8. The Unholy Three (1930) was his only talking movie.

I am a little disappointed that Ben didn't give George Sanders a bit more of his due because as Maura pointed out, he did earn the Best Supporting Actor Award that year. I always loved (SPOILER) Addison's dressing down of Eve near the end. Surely, the 'alliance' of these two heels should have warranted some discussion.

Love this movie. Boris Karloff is so frightening, and yet so sympathetic as the monster at the same time. Colin Clive's "It's alive!" line is classic.

I agree. He was certainly the most outstanding of the male actors. While there was nothing particularly wrong with them, Lloyd and Bill were portrayed as rather bland, but serviceable.

When I lived in Northwest Montana for a time we only got two broadcast channels. One of the was CBC out of Vancouver BC. It was the better channel for entertainment. That's were we got exposed to lots of British comedies, The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin, Red Dwarf, Fawlty Towers, Hitchhiker's' Guide to the Galaxy, Black Adder. The other was a PBS station where we saw even more British programing with Masterpiece Theater giving us I, Claudius, and Poldark.

I think it was a Google indirect link that may have expired. This looks like the direct link: http://thefilmexperience.net/blog/2021/6/5/1946-martha-vickers-in-the-big-sleep.html (I hope James does not mind me posting this. Please post replies to his original message.)

Saturday, October 9 midnight. Brighton Rock (1947). Young Richard Attenborough and Carol Marsh excel in this Graham Greene story.

On Svengoolie tomorrow, October 9, 2021:

Vaccaro, Brenda

HERE COMES THE GROOM PARIS HONEYMOON LOVELY TO LOOK AT GENTLEMEN PREFER BLONDES GENTLEMEN MARRY BRUNETTES ANYTHING GOES Disney's HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME LES GIRLS (I think) GAY PUREE THE FRENCH LINE THE VAGABOND KING RICH, YOUNG AND PRETTY SO THIS IS PARIS

I personally think Barry Lyndon is fantastic, one of the greatest of all American movies. But don't take my word for it. Read Geoffrey O'Brien's essay for the Criterion edition: In the wake of Dr. Strangelove (1964), 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), and A Clockwork Orange (1971), Stanley Kubrick assumed the figure of a futurologist, at least for his most ardent devotees. Many of these (abounding at the younger end of the cinephile spectrum) saw him as someone endowed with a privileged instinct for what lay ahead and a genius for making his intuitions visible. The four-year wait preceding the release of Barry Lyndon in 1975—no one could know then that such intervals would grow ever longer—allowed ample time to speculate about the fact that he was venturing not deeper into the future but into the past. Kubrick being Kubrick, even the prospect of a historical film took on a science-fiction aura, as if we were now to be taken by time machine into the eighteenth century, much like the astronaut at the end of 2001 who found himself an old man dying in a Louis XVI bedroom somewhere beyond the outer rim of ordinary space-time. Originally, there was to have been an epic Napoleon, for which, after years of preparation, the financing collapsed. After that major disappointment, Kubrick had turned to a fairly obscure novel by William Makepeace Thackeray, published in 1844 as The Luck of Barry Lyndon and reissued in revised form in 1856 as The Memoirs of Barry Lyndon, Esq.—certainly a more downbeat narrative than the imperial saga Kubrick had envisioned, even if, as the French critic Michel Ciment has suggested, it might be taken as a mirror of Napoleon’s tale: “the story of a young islander, thirsting after power, who crosses oceans, fights a continental war, rises in society, then, defeated, returns to his island.” In any case, one of the many mysterious things about Barry Lyndon is why Kubrick chose to film that particular work—a mystery that deepens on comparing book and film. In broad terms, Kubrick made a faithful adaptation, preserving the arc of the story of how an Irish lad of humble origins passes through a series of picaresque scrapes—as hotheaded young lover, fugitive, British soldier, deserter forced into the Prussian military, police spy, professional gambler—until he succeeds in marrying a wealthy countess, only to lose everything in the end. Production designer Ken Adam even stated that, in preparing the film, “basically, we used the novel . . . The original text served as continuity, and we worked with it.” A reading of the book, however, reveals how utterly Kubrick bent it to his purposes. It is not simply that Thackeray tells a more rambling and digressive story, replete with melodramatic incident and unlikely coincidences. Kubrick, while drawing freely from the book’s dialogue, narration, incidents, and physical details, transforms his material alchemically. Thackeray offers the rough comedy of a rogue’s life, recounted in the manner of a shameless and entertaining braggart; the novelist once referred to the Irish as “a nation of liars,” and here he sets out to demonstrate that opinion, as his hero, the most unreliable of narrators, spins a self-aggrandizing memoir that utterly fails to disguise what is transparently the career of a drunken and often brutal cardsharp and confidence man. When he mounts a defense against slander, it is along the lines of: “For the first three years I never struck my wife but when I was in liquor.” Thackeray’s Barry essentially blackmails Lady Lyndon into marriage by threatening lethal violence against her other suitors, and afterward not only despoils her estate but keeps her a virtual prisoner in her own home. The novel’s literary effectiveness, such as it is, resides in the ironic contrast between Barry’s alternately boastful and self-pitying grandiloquence and the sordid realities the reader so easily discerns. Lest the point be missed, Thackeray also makes use of a supposed editor of Barry’s manuscript, who on occasion spells out the obvious contradictions. Such heavy-handed counterpoint is far from the tone that Kubrick develops—a tone more complex and subtly suggestive than Thackeray’s, allowing room for ambiguities and nuances that make the film’s Barry a very different figure. Whether he is finally a particularly sympathetic one—and how much our sense of him has to do with the opacity of Ryan O’Neal’s performance—is something even multiple viewings leave open, but he is not Thackeray’s Irish stereotype. With an altered conception of Barry, everything retained from the novel changes character too; what was raffish comedy becomes a richer and stranger mix of scenes that is almost an exemplary catalog of life experiences, with all their variety and all their oppressive limitations. The form of that catalog is elaborate and very deliberately laid out. There are frames, and frames within frames: chapter titles, spoken narration, stately landscape views, frozen compositions of social rituals seen from a distance. Barry Lyndon’s very first shot fully announces that here nothing will be left to chance. It is a richly colored painterly tableau in which the somber foreground is taken up with a tree branch looming over the left side of the frame and a dilapidated stone wall winding toward another dark tree on the right. At the same time, we make out a pair of duelists framed in brighter light, in the rear of the image, against a view of mountains. We can just about hear the words being spoken as the duel begins, but they are drowned out right away by the measured, cultivated tones of Michael Hordern, whom we will hear as intermittent narrator throughout the film. He is as much a character as anyone—he certainly has more to say than most of them—but is not otherwise identified: he is simply the one who knows what is coming, the historian who understands the world in which these things occur, the ironist who perhaps comprehends the sense of it all. He mentions the death of Barry’s father, and as we try to figure out which of the duelists he is, the question is answered as the one on the left falls dead just as the narrator informs us with dry solemnity that the duel was fought because of a disagreement over a purchase of horses. There is no time to absorb all the visual and narrative information in this astonishingly dense shot, because the narration is already pushing forward, telling us about Barry’s mother as we see her at medium distance—an establishing shot whose bald directness is straight out of a silent movie, except that instead of a title card we have Hordern’s irresistibly mellow voice characterizing her motives and behavior. The voice assures us we will not have to work too hard to make sense of what goes on; the narrator will explain everything, even before it happens. We are being given a guided tour of something that is already done with. But such relief is illusory, however serenely untroubled the narrator may be. Being told in advance that disasters await doesn’t alleviate their impact, any more than does the optical beauty with which we are to be lavished for three hours. There is musical beauty too, an inescapable sonic flow incorporating Handel, Vivaldi, Schubert, and (in the first half) the traditional Irish music of the Chieftains. The music moves with its own sense of purpose, sometimes underscoring, sometimes contradicting what we see. The plaintive “Women of Ireland” theme suffuses the film’s first half with a mood of romantic longing that nothing that actually occurs on-screen comes close to fulfilling. There is in Barry Lyndon a parallel film made up of music, landscape, color, and compositional harmony that unfolds concurrently with the narrative of Barry’s life, evoking the many possibilities that might be imagined by the characters themselves but that have little chance of ever being realized. ***** The film manages to be airy, spacious, sensually gratifying, without ever offering more than curtailed glimpses of anything like human happiness or generosity of spirit or even enduring satisfaction. The pleasures on offer are almost enough to make us overlook all that is lacking: real gaiety, authentic freedom, true faith in any of the social orders in which Barry and the rest are enmeshed. There is, for instance, a thrilling scene early on, in which Barry and his cousin gallop through green countryside as they ride away from a duel in which Barry falsely believes he has killed a rival. For that one exultant moment, we can enjoy the excitement and unfulfillable promise of an adventurous future. Kubrick finds ways to film not only what his characters do but what they think they are doing. The paradox of Barry Lyndon is that it brings us ever nearer to a reality that is made to seem further and further away. Everything on-screen has a palpability that, in 1975, seemed eerie by comparison with earlier historical films. Kubrick used lenses sensitive enough to allow filming interior scenes by candlelight (developed for NASA, no less), paid unparalleled attention to material detail (clothes, wigs, guns, musical instruments), to the compositional effects of Gainsborough, Hogarth, and other painters of the period, to the protocol of the rituals of which we see so many: duels, battles, card games, formal entertainments, the administration of corporal punishment. Yet the more intimately present this reality becomes, the more ephemeral and ghostly the people in it seem. The past never stops being the past; the images freeze and recede into a frame, beyond our reach. That effect of doubleness is compounded by Kubrick’s recurrent visual trope of slow zooms moving back from the action to reveal the indifferent landscape within which it is taking place. Those reverse zooms signal an incursion from the future, a telescope traveling through time as much as through space. Throughout the film, Kubrick cuts into the midst of things, as if selecting from an unbroken stream of surveillance footage just those moments he finds pertinent, whether it’s a Prussian recruit stripped to the waist and submitting to a gauntlet of punishment, or a magician demonstrating his tricks at a lavish birthday celebration while the newly prosperous Barry looks on under the summer sun, or the king of England shaking hands perfunctorily in a reception line, or Barry, stiff as a stone statue, sleeping off a drunken revel. But what is it about, finally? In simple terms, Barry Lyndon is about Barry Lyndon: a nobody who wants to be somebody. In part one—the tale of his wanderings from rural Ireland through central Europe during the Seven Years’ War and back to the British Isles again—he rises finally to the top by marrying the beautiful and moneyed widow Lady Lyndon (Marisa Berenson); in part two, having come close to forcing his way into the aristocracy, he abuses his success, runs afoul of his resentful, mother-fixated stepson Lord Bullingdon (an indelible performance by Leon Vitali), and drops into oblivion, a maimed and pensioned-off exile. O’Neal as Barry is at the center of the film from first to last; all other characters are there only because they contribute in some way to determining his destiny. Many of those characters, no matter how important to the narrative, are given little more than a scene or two to express themselves in words; some, notably Berenson as Lady Lyndon, have scarcely any dialogue at all. Yet the impressions those seeming cameo roles leave behind are fully developed: Barry’s flirtatious and fickle cousin Nora (Gay Hamilton), his calculating and fiercely devoted mother (Marie Kean), the cowardly Captain Quin who steals Nora away (Leonard Rossiter), the feckless but generous Captain Grogan (Godfrey Quigley), the deadbeat aristocratic gambler Lord Ludd (Steven Berkoff), the suavely self-serving high-society intermediary Lord Wendover (André Morell). There are many more, and there is scarcely one who does not register a decisive portrait, sometimes in a matter of seconds. For all its strange silences, it is a remarkably populous film. As for O’Neal, he stands somehow apart, almost abashed, in the film of which he is the center. At the start, he has the naive candor of the adolescent he is playing, and he never quite loses that fresh-faced quality even as we see him evolving into an accomplished gambler, a cynical seducer, a dissolute orgiast, a cunning social climber. He remains the same person, fundamentally simple, almost uninflected; following his instincts, he passes through experiences without learning from them. That he has some measure of sincerity is indicated when he bursts into tears: at the battlefield death of his friend and protector Captain Grogan, at his first encounter in exile with a fellow Irishman (the cardsharp Chevalier de Balibari), and upon the accidental death of his son, Bryan, a scene all the more affecting for how closely it skirts the maudlin. Barry’s greatest naïveté is not, as it turns out, to trust in his cousin Nora but to persuade himself that he can breach social barriers and become an English aristocrat. O’Neal’s performance has been criticized as inexpressive, but without his solidity and directness, the film could have been lost in a whirl of dazzling impressions. He must be the center that gives proportion to that mass of accumulated detail and historical observation, focusing attention on the easily graspable through line: what Barry did. What he does may at last seem like not very much. Much of it is done under compulsion; and when at last seemingly free to act, he invariably does the wrong things. Barry’s most unimpeded violent action takes place not in the early battle scenes, where soldiers advance in strict formation while being cut down by enemy fire, but when, infuriated by Lord Bullingdon’s contemptuous behavior during a sedate music recital, he tackles him savagely in the midst of the astonished guests. The handheld camera moves in close to the action as if at the edge of a boxing ring. It is in fact the moment when he destroys himself, earning him permanent exclusion from the aristocracy he has tried to penetrate. The one uncontestably right thing he does—honorably firing his pistol into the ground in his final confrontation with Lord Bullingdon—proves his undoing, as Bullingdon takes advantage of this reprieve and fires the shot that causes the amputation of Barry’s leg. The last we see of Barry is from the rear, caught in freeze-frame as he hobbles on crutches aboard the carriage leading him ignominiously back to Ireland.

From a tech point of view. A 5 megabyte hard disk drive in 1956. For perspective, nowadays that might hold one pop song and a still image at 1920/1080 resolution on YT. Or not... Especially not if it is good music. You might be especially lucky if this even holds Cardi B's butt for 3-5 minutes. 😁 Back in 1956 this was something to behold. Just Imagine. (1930s....don't even get me started) Also movie buffs, don't forget about Forbidden Planet (1956). My favorite #1 of all time. Walter Pidgeon, Leslie Nielson, et al. Now you know me...best movie ever. It is not so much about acting, as it is about story telling. Leslie Nielson's last words which he horribly bungled for no apparent reason: "After all, we are not G-d." Amen.

Spike Jones is one of my heros. I just love what he did, for many years... Recognized Helen's name before I even clicked on it. Had no idea Helen is still with us. Sure wish Spike was. Love those 1950s Colgate Comedy Hour shows he did (I have on VHS), which his family finally uploaded to YT. A beautiful soul. Wish there were more like him. Honest. I know Richard Carpenter gave it a try.

2616--"The Blues Brothers", I lived in Chicago when they made this film and some of my dance friends were extras. 2617--"Fedora", one of my favorite films for William Holden, one of my favorite actors with one of his favorite directors, Billy Wilder. Captures a very European style for a movie all about Hollywood. 2618--"Scent of a Woman", Stars Al Pacino in his Oscar winning role, one of my favorite actors who should have won two or three Oscars before this one.

Awesome, Peebs! I think an Agent 005 also appears in Thunderball but is unnamed. Your thread, 00-Peebs!

How about this: many 00 agents sit with Bond at a briefing in Thunderball 002 in The Living Daylights at training exercise with 004 & 007 in Gibraltar. 003 found dead in A View to a Kill 006 GoldenEye played by Sean Bean 008 M mentioned 008 in Goldfinger and Living Daylights 009 assassinated in Octopussy. M sent 009 to kill Renard in The World is Not Enough

The F.B.I. ?

The anthology series The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits had some noir elements in those shows. The black and white episodes of The Avengers with Patrick Macnee , Honor Blackman and Diana Rigg had noir elements as well. Thanks

On TCM recently, I saw "The 7th Victim", which I've seen several times before and enjoy watching. It struck me as strange that the ending passed muster with the Production Code, because it was such a bummer. It ends with a suicide (which is not shown, of course) of a person who got wrapped up with some well-heeled devil worshipers. The only reason I can think such an ending would have been allowed was perhaps to serve as a cautionary tale about what happens when you dabble in the occult? Does anyone have any insight on why such an ending would have been permitted? I also caught a couple of Italian flicks as part of TCM's "New Wave Cinema" for October. I had never seen either of them, but I thought they were pretty good. "Rome: Open City" and "Mamma Roma", both of which had Anna Magnani in the cast. She would be a good candidate for a Summer Under The Stars honoree. She can be subtle and even a bit demure, and like a light switch, she can turn it on and become quite demonstrative to the point where you'd think she was way over the top with her acting. In the first movie, Magnani plays a widowed single mother who is engaged to her neighbor who is part of the Italian resistance against the Germans who have occupied Rome after Mussolini was ousted from power. She also happens to be pregnant with his child. The parish priest, who is also part of the underground movement, isn't thrilled about Magnani's condition since she's not married, or the fact that her fiancee is an atheist, but he puts his ecclesiastical theology aside to focus on ridding the city of the occupying forces. Francesco, Magnani's betrothed, is helping an engineer named Giorgio escape from the Nazis who are on his tail. I won't go any further with the plot, but I will say the scenes in this picture, especially over the last 20 minutes, were pretty graphic (for its time). The second film had Magnani playing a single mother again who is a vendor of figs in her neighborhood's produce market. That's her day job. At night, she's a prostitute who is, shall we say, more 'experienced' than the young fillies she runs with on the streets. She's trying to earn enough money to help her son stay away from the kind of sordid and wayward life she had in her youth. She was being extorted with exposure of her past life to her 16-year old son, Ettore, which is why she caved in to the demands made by her former lover, turned pimp, Carmine. But despite her efforts, Ettore seems bent on being the 'big shot' with his neighborhood pals. Will he end up being a known quantity to the cops? Will she be able to break free from Carmine's threats and demands and lead the kind of life she wants? Both pictures were pretty compelling cinema. I give "Rome: Open City" 8 out of 10 on the rating scale, and "Mamma Rosa" 7 out of 10.

The Upturned Glass, 1947 Directed by Lawrence Huntington Written by Pamela Mason and John Monaghan (some dude who mysteriously lived with the Masons for years as a gopher/bodyguard/writer?) Starring James Mason, Pamela Mason 1 hr. 22 min. Crisp and clear print, in the public domain. Above average British murder mystery with noir elements where a brilliant brain surgeon (Mason) is not above avenging the murder of his lover. Is he sane or insane? Excellent performance as always by Mason, who manages to elevate everything he appears in. The story is also very good and held my interest to the shocking end. 7.5/10 Full movie

Amazing Mister X, 1948 1 hr.17 min. Directed by Bernard Vorhaus Starring Turhan Bey, Lynn Bari, Cathy O'Donnell Recommended by Eddie Muller as an underrated B noir that would be perfect as the bottom billed feature with Nightmare Alley. A Horror/Noir thriller and Amazon had it for rent or purchase. Since the purchase price was only $6.00 I pulled the trigger, not knowing the horror was with the print. Extremely grainy and dark, with pops, jumps and muddy sound. Given the glowing reviews there must be a better print out there which would make all the difference, so don't waste your money on this one. I wrongly assumed anyone selling it would have the best version available. The print in the public domain on You Tube actually looks a bit better than the one Amazon is selling. The standard plot makes Nightmare Alley look like Citizen Kane, but the acting is good and the ambience is spooky enough, taking place primarily in a mansion by the sea. Lots of crashing waves, steep cliffs, a mysterious stranger with a squawking black bird, one dead husband and two rich and vulnerable sisters. The charlatan only fools the women 'cause let's just say he's got a magic touch. A suspicious boyfriend hires a debunker like the Amazing Randi, who shows off his old magician trick by barfing up some playing cards, and we're off to the races. ... His bird is actually trained to fetch cigarettes, among other things. ..

Thursday, October 7/8 TCM Horror Month continues with a day full of June Allyson movies. 1 a.m. Bunker Bean (1936). Lucille Ball SOTM