misswonderly3

Just a couple more comments about "The Man Who Cheated Himself": John Dall is one of those actors who I like, even though he's not what you'd call a great actor. I find his screen presence likable (well, maybe not so much in "Rope").He's extremely sympathetic in "Gun Crazy", for instance. I've heard that the director of "Gun Crazy", Joseph Lewis, wanted a gay actor to play the part of Bart Tare, not that the character is gay (he's definitely not), but because Lewis thought a gay actor like Dall would, perhaps even just unconsciously, project a kind of "differentness" and vulnerability the character is supposed to have. And I believe Dall does just that. It's true, in "The Man Who Cheated Himself" Dall kind of smirks a lot, Eddie comments on that. But I don't mind a bit of smirking; anyway, he's supposed to be happy, at least for most of the movie, so why shouldn't he smile? He's got the promotion he wanted, he's working alongside his brother, and he's in love. As for a plot point a couple of people here have mentioned, about the murder itself: It is not at all clear what the husband, (Howard Frazer), intended to do when he returned home, more or less bursting in. Maybe he did mean to kill his wife, since he knew she was planning to change her will and quite likely wanted to stop her from doing this (we can assume her will at the time of action left everything to her husband.) And he had left the gun there, hidden in his "den" (or whatever that room is). He did not notice the bill of sale that had dropped onto the floor before he burned all the other evidence of the gun purchase, so from his point of view, his wife was unaware that he had a gun there at all. Plus we saw him tamper with the balcony door, presumably with the intention of enabling him to enter Lois' home unexpectedly, possibly grab his newly purchased gun, and shoot her. His plane ticket could be his alibi. Oh, I dunno....I'm just saying, although Lois flipped out and killed the man without waiting to find out why he'd returned, it does look as though he might very well have been planning to murder her. So she could theoretically have pleaded self-defence.

Well, I guess I missed that. I do listen pretty carefully to the dialogue in films, but of course there's always a moment sometimes when one doesn't hear a line or so, for whatever reason. For some reason I felt I was being gently reproved that I hadn't heard them say it was "Fort Point". Anyway, it's a fantastic setting for that final scene. I hope it's still around, but wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't.

I'm not a bit offended. I don't agree that Mary Astor was "frumpy" or a "bowser", as cigarjoe says. (Hey, cigarjoe, I looked up "bowser", never having heard the term before, but couldn't find any definition relating to an unattractive woman. However, I figured you meant "bowser" as in "bow wow" as in, she's a dog.) I don't think she was a jaw-droppingly beautiful babe, but nor do I see her as a "dog". However, I've noticed that here on the boards many men do seem to perceive her that way; she'd never be voted in the top 20 (or possibly even top 100) sexiest woman of the classic Hollywood era. I like her, I like her acting, her persona, her style, and most of the movies I've seen her in. "That said", I'm not a hard-core devoted Mary Astor fan, so criticism of her looks (or anything else about her) doesn't bother me. Actually, since we're talking about this, I'll just say that the reason I chose that avatar pic has nothing to do with Mary Astor herself; it's just that she played "Miss Wonderly", aka Brigid O'Shaughnessy, in "The Maltese Falcon" ( as I'm sure everyone reading this knows.) When I was deciding what "screen name" to use on these boards, way back years ago when I first joined the TCM message board community, I picked "Miss Wonderly" because I'd always thought it was a really funny name, so improbable, so obviously fake. I just liked the name, plus it was an obvious allusion to a great classic movie. I use that Mary Astor avatar because it's her as "Miss Wonderly", that's all.

Ok, "The ManWho Cheated Himself". Notes: Yes, I have to agree with all who have observed that Jane Wyatt has no sex appeal, and that it's hard to imagine her seducing anyone into doing anything for her. It's interesting, it's hard to pin down what makes a woman in these movies seductive and attractive, certainly enough to persuade normally "decent" men to break the law for them. I mean, it's not technically "beauty", since Babs Stanwyck is not as "pretty" as Jane Wyatt. I love Miss Stanwyck, but she is not what is "traditionally" called "beautiful" or even "pretty". Same with Joan Crawford. What these woman do have is a kind of magnetism, appeal, that makes you think they're beautiful while you're watching them. It doesn't matter if they're actually beautiful or not, they come across as irresistibly attractive, you believe they are, and that's what makes them credible "femmes fatales". Now back to Jane Wyatt: While technically, she's "prettier" than either Joan or Barbara (and others), you just don't believe she has the kind of strength of personality which would give her power over men. She's lightweight. (And I don't mean her figure, although she is certainly trim and slim. ) This "lightweight" quality may explain why we're not convinced that Lt. Ed would go to such lengths to cover up her murder. There's no chemistry between Wyatt and Cobb. I just don't believe that he's head over heels in love, or even in lust, with her. Anyway, other than that small flaw with the film, I really enjoyed "The Man Who Cheated Himself". Funny thing is, I'd seen it before and been unimpressed with it. I have a collection of obscure noirs on a sketchy DVD set I picked up in the early 2000s. I suspect the set's just barely legal - maybe back then nobody was as concerned with "rights" as they seem to be now. Regardless, I saw quite a few rare and little-known noirs thanks to that dubious DVD set, including this one. But I remember not liking "The Man Who Cheated Himself" that much with that earlier viewing. This time around, I found it very engaging. The best thing about the film is the final scene, rather a long one for a noir made in 1950. I absolutely love that setting, the abandoned courtyard / prison/ whatthehellisitanyway? anyway that mysterious place where Cobb and Wyatt hide out in tower while John Dall, who's convinced they're there somewhere, searches for them. Eddie was right to give kudos to the cinematographer, Russell Harlan. That scene alone would justify the entire movie; it's deliciously atmospheric and, well, noirish. I gather it's the same place where Kim Novak's character meets her fate in Vertigo, eight years later. But I didn't really recognize it, the tower looks different to me. It's the long shots of Dall walking through the corridors of this mystery place, and the silence - no soundtrack music, all you hear is the wind - that's so memorable. It's what one of my noir books calls a "terrain vague" : a nowhereland, a strange unpopulated place where the protagonist - or the "bad guy" - usually meets his end. They're just eerie empty spaces, often old factories or warehouses, but also railway junctions or even amusement parks (as in the ferris wheel in "The Third Man" or the Hall of Mirrors in "The Lady from Shanghai".) I love these mysterious obscure places, they're one of my favourite things about noir. What is this place?

Once again the noxious spam has taken over the boards. The only way I was able to get to this thread was to click my own profile and find a post I'd written recently for "Noir Alley" and click on it. This "Noir Alley" thread is probably about 20 pages in... I have to say, I HATE the spam thing. I know we all do. But what really gets me about it is, I cannot fathom what possible purpose it serves for whoever is doing it, whether it's a human being, or a "bot", or a human being programming the "bot". All it does is make it extremely frustrating and off-putting for us board members who want to post here. Shirley the spammer doesn't profit from it in any way?? So why do they do it?

No, I never saw the series, nor have even heard of it. Still, thanks for explaining the "ritual mention" of the , uh, unmentionable.

Oh dear.

Why would you feel dumb? It's my guess that there are very few people who've ever heard that word. I would have expected it to have some kind of root with "feline" somewhere in there. Wonder what the etymological origin of"ailuro" is? ("phobia", of course, is just "fear". Or maybe "fear of -")

What "little gem from 1934" ? You don't name the movie. Ok, I looked it up. You could have said "It's called 'The Black youknowwhat'.

Sounds like a remake of a 1971 film of the same name, starring Clint Eastwood as the wounded soldier. I've never seen it, but I've always kind of wanted to. Didn't know there was a remake. I assume Colin Farrell plays the Union soldier. I like this actor, however, he's Irish. (I like Irish people too.) I don't know why they do this, I guess it has something to do with the "Hey, they can act, they can put on an American (or fill in whatever country) accent, so why not?" school of thinking. But honestly, there are so many good American actors who could have played that part, I don't know why they get a non-American to play such a quintessentially American role. ( And I'll say it again, I do like Colin Farrell, it's not that...)

Hmm, kind of like when people say "If you think that, you've got another thing coming!" , while I believe the original expression is "If you think that, you've got another think coming !" "Thing" and "think" sound so much alike. And then there's "Music soothes the savage beast", when it's actually "Music soothes the savage breast" . But anyway it's actually "Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast". But, just like "ditchwater" and "dishwater", and "thing" and "think", one can see why people would believe it was "savage beast", which makes as much sense as "savage breast". Apropos of nothing: I cannot and do not pretend to be a knowledgeable person, whether we're talking film noir or commonly used quotations and expressions (or anything else, for that matter). So I will freely admit I am often wrong. And I was wrong about "music hath charms to soothe a savage breast" (perhaps it would be better to say "a savage beast's breast", then we'd be covering all our bases.) Anyway, I thought it was from "Twelfth Night", but no, it's from William Congreve's obscure play , "The Mourning Bride". Who knew? Pas moi.

I think it's "dishwater". But I don't think old Dick Powell is dull at all, whether you prefer ditchwater or dishwater. I really like him as a noir protagonist. I enjoy his dry line deliveries. And two of my favourite noirs star Powell: "Murder My Sweet" and "Cry Danger !" True, he's kind of goofy-looking. But so is Fred MacMurray. Goofiness in itself doesn't preclude being a noir hero. And I think Dick often shows a bit of a sense of humour, sometimes even a slightly self-mocking one. No, I don't believe I'd toss a pan of dishwater over Dick Powell. Or toss him into a ditch, either.

I would argue that the Bette Davis character is NOT a "femme fatale", a trope that is not nearly as prevalent in noir as many seem to believe. Leslie Crosbie is unfaithful to her husband, yes. And she does kill her lover, yes. But those two acts alone do not necessarily render her a "femme fatale". The classic noir "femme fatale" is a woman who deliberately leads a man to disaster, who holds a man in thrall to her sexually, and who cares only for herself and her own gain, and uses the man to obtain this gain (money, status, power...) Leslie Crosbie does not do any of those things. Just because a married woman has a lover does not make her a femme fatale. And she killed her lover in a fit of jealous passion, not for any calculated reason. She does not fit the noir definition of "femme fatale" at all.

I like Eddie Muller and have difficulty understanding people who don't. He's the opposite of "self- important"; he often gently mocks himself. The "let's knock Eddie" faction here reminds me of a few years ago, when a bunch of posters here were always complaining about Ben Mankiewicz - and with the same criticism, that they thought he was "self-important". Maybe they're just jealous.

That's interesting, Hibi. this must have been at least the 4th time I've seen The Letter, and I still missed that. SPOILERAMA : I will say, my memory of the film's ending was incorrect: For some reason I'd always thought it was Hammond's wife (Gale Sondergaard) who actually stabs Leslie. But in fact it's the man who always seems to accompany her ( paid assistant? brother? friend? ) who grabs Leslie and kills her. And I don't think she's even stabbed to death by that dagger, it looks more like she's strangled. But Mrs. Hammond / Sondergaard just looks on - in fact, she's clasping the dagger the whole time. Even though the dagger ( well, there seem to be two daggers, in a set, which Leslie observed when she meets Madame Hammond for the letter exchange...) is left on the porch pointing towards her, it's not specifically the instrument of death for Leslie. At least, I don't think so. Not that it matters, really; what matters is that Leslie is killed, either by the actual hand of the vengeful Mrs. Hammond, or by her assistant / friend / brother / whoever he is. I cannot remember if this is the way it ends in the Maugham story. If it's not, it should be; it's a very dramatic and effective finish to the film. I know Leslie had to die because of the Code, she couldn't be allowed to get away with murder. But even aside from that, I think it's the right way to end the film. And in fact, I believe we're supposed to think that Leslie knows what's going to happen to her and chooses her fate knowlingly; she sees the dagger on the porch, she goes out into the night to meet her end. I just think it would have been more fitting, somehow more satisfying, if Hammond's wife herself had done the killing. Also, I kind of wish she and her assistant had not been arrested as soon as they've done the deed. It would have been more interesting, more bleak and noirish, if the two assassins had simply murdered their victim and then disappeared into the night.

Oh, by the way, also about James Stephenson: I happened to watch TCM's airing of Three Strangers last night. I think it's a very good film, deserving to be much better-known than it is. Anyway, when I saw James Stephenson this morning in The Letter, I thought at first it was the same actor who played David Shackelford, the husband of the obsessive destructive woman in Three Strangers. They really look alike ! However, I looked them up and found out I was wrong. Still, I think people will have to agree there's quite a resemblance between them. Here's James Stephenson, who plays lawyer Howard Joyce in The Letter: And here's Alan Napier, who plays the hapless Mr. Shackleton in Three Strangers: Whaddya think? Real look-alikes, and it's not just the mustache.

I think The Letter is a great movie. I've seen it several times now, and it passes the "does it still hold my interest after several viewings?" test quite nicely. Something I noticed more this time around than in the previous times I've watched it is the performance of James Stephenson as Bette's lawyer, Howard Joyce. I thought he was excellent as the conflicted attorney; he regards himself as an "honourable man", and an honest lawyer. Yet in order to save Leslie's life, he has to commit the highly unethical act of buying and suppressing a key piece of evidence. Stephenson conveys the man's ambivalent feelings about Leslie and the choices he must make to protect her - - or send her to almost certain death - - subtly and effectively. Stephenson is in fact in nearly every scene, certainly more scenes than Herbert Marshall, and he is both convincing and sympathetic throughout. A frequent theme in W. Somerset Maugham's work is the unknowable quality of human beings, that people are not who we think they are. Someone who presents a virtuous face to the world often turns out to be immoral in some way, either in thrall to some sexual obsession ( usually involving adultery or incest or something else perverse or decadent in some way) or they've been embezzling the company funds for years, or they're concealing some dire family secret... I like this aspect of Maugham's writing; the topic he seems most interested in is that of the complexity and unfathomableness of human nature. There's no better example of this than The Letter.

? ? ! ? You must be one of those people who tends to think the worst of others. Why do you ascribe this smug "We've heard of X ( classic film director, actor, old song writer, whatever) and you haven't !" attitude to the Coens? Besides, obviously you've heard of all the old Hollywood talent they refer to, and so have I. So that makes at least two people who have. Obviously people who are drawn to Coen brothers movies have too. I have never once felt that they were assuming some kind of air of superiority over their audience; rather, I've thought that they know there are people out there who are familiar with and do care about the same things they do, and those are the people they make their movies for. Looks like you're not one of them, so why not just not watch their movies ( for someone who doesn't like the Coens you seem to have viewed quite a lot of their work ) and then you can stop attributing this nasty arrogance to them. An arrogance which I believe is totally non-existent.

I would not be numbered among such fair-weather music fans. I've always loved that kind of music, and pursue it and listen to and recognize how beautiful and profound it is. Far from scattering if you played it around me, I'd ask for more.

Well, Eric, I often find that you as a poster here come off with a sort of bored sense of superiority. So if that's how you think of the Coen brothers, I would expect you to relate to them. But in fact, I could not disagree with you more. What's wrong with filmmakers who clearly love old movies making allusions to them in their own films? what you seem to perceive as snarky, mocking, and smug I perceive as affectionate and respectful. Yes, the Coens do have a sardonic sense of humour, but I've never felt that sardony (yup I made that word up) is directed in a negative way towards classic old films. Both Coen brothers love and respect old movies - and yes, old music too - and they sometimes like to have fun making "homage" films. Regarding "The Odyssey": they were just having a bit of fun, they were quite honest about not being scholars of ancient Greek poetry. So what if the film's narrative does not follow the exact peregrinations of Odysseus? As for the critics not mentioning the Preston Sturges film when "O Brother" came out, I honestly think that most of them did not get it. And if they did get it, why would they roll their eyes? I remember being delighted that there was a new movie out there that was openly making an allusion to a Preston Sturges film; whether most contemporary audiences had even heard of Preston Sturges is unlikely. I thought the Coens had made a joyful, funny, life-embracing movie, and the fact that its title referred to a movie from the early 1940s ( which by the way, I also find joyful, funny, and life-embracing) was just another thing to celebrate about it.

NickandNora, thanks for posting about this great Coen brothers film. I'm a big Coen brothers fan, and "O Brother Where Art Thou?" is one of my favourites from these quirky, smart, original filmmakers. A few things you might already know, NickandNora, but I'll mention them just in case: The Coens claim that "O Brother Where Art Thou?" is based on Homer's The Odyssey. Ok, maybe. I can see there are definitely some allusions to it, and it's fun to pick them out. But even Joel and Ethan have admitted that their screenplay should be seen as a very loose, very open, 1930s era version of Homer's epic. In fact , I think one of them conceded that he'd never actually read "The Odyssey", at least not all of it. Still, every now and then you can see a reference to it. I remember being surprised when "O Brother Where Art Thou?" first came out and not one film critic I read mentioned this: classic film-fans that they are, the Coens were referencing "Sullivan's Travels", the 1941 Preston Sturges adventure/comedy in which Joel McCrea's character as a successful film director declares he wants to make a "serious" picture, which he intends to title "O Brother Where Art Thou?" I agree with you, "O Brother Where Art Thou?" (the Coen brothers movie, not the fictional one in the Preston Sturges story) is completely enjoyable, not least because of the great music you get to hear throughout. Although it's technically not a musical, the film is chock full of absolutely first-rate songs, mostly "roots" music, bluegrass, folk, traditional, whatever you want to call it, plus some really fine blues. I'm happy to say I have the soundtrack album. It's all truly great music, but my favourites are "Man of Constant Sorrow" (the version that kind of rocks, the one the boys perform at the community gathering) and "I'll Fly Away". This last is sung by Gillian Welch and Alison Krauss and is literally divinely beautiful.

Some observations about "Crime Wave": What is it about Noir that it's so good at giving us little details, bits, odd random characters that don't matter at all to the plot but somehow matter in the way they make up the sum total of the film, they contribute to the feel of the movie. Some of my favourite noirs have this quality. For example: When the cops call a general round-up of usual suspects and also anyone who's gotten hauled into the police station that night, we're treated to a brief but highly entertaining scene in which a number of random people are explaining to the police why they're there, and why they shouldn't be. There's a couple that looks like they've had a fight ( and it's the man who looks like he's been beaten up ! ), a woman who swears that for years she's had nothing to do with one of the suspects the police are asking about ("Are you kidding? I hate his guts !"), and a bookie ( I think - can't remember for sure...) My point is, these three characters are never seen again and really have nothing whatever to do with the story, but their mini-dramas add colour and humanity to the film. It's as though Sterling Hayden's cop is mentally doing a "face palm" when he hears their sordid little tales, as though he's thinking "Damn, there's a lot of trashy people in the world. I wish I could have a cigarette...." And those three are just miniature examples of how characters are given their moment in the film. Other players who feature a little more in the story include the poor old "defrocked" doctor - turned- vet, who insists on taking the dead crook's money (rotten ) but then goes home to treat some poor abandoned dog ( admirable.) Thanks to Yanceycravat and james for mentioning him. But there are other little details in "Crime Wave" that I love. Like, I always enjoy noticing the everyday household objects in old movies, especially noirs. In the Laceys' apartment, for instance, they've got that standard early 50's kitchen table, always with an oilcloth on it ( I would love to find one of those things...I'd use it on my kitchen table !) ; and of course they're planning to have the requisite steak and baked potato dinner (as in "The Big Heat"). Did anyone else notice at one point, the camera's on Phyllis Kirk, but behind her, on the living room wall, there's a picture of Don Quixote ! I think it's that famous one by Picasso. It just seems funny ( as in comical, NOT odd), that Steve and Ellen Lacey have a print of Picasso's Don Quixote up on their wall. Well, why not? One last detail I can't resist mentioning - this is the third time I've seen "Crime Wave", and I never noticed this before: in the final 15 minutes or so of the film, there's an extended scene at the crooks' hide-out (next to a Chinese restaurant - I love it !) Of course they have the usual discussion around the table to plan the heist. And they're using an old cardboard box as a lampshade ! At first I couldn't figure out what it was. When I did, I had to laugh. Whether it was Andre deToth himself who thought of these kind of details, or the set designer ( did they have set designers for B movies in 1952?) the sets and entire mise-en-scene in "Crime Wave" greatly enhance the atmosphere and realism of the film. Ok, I know this is long. But I just have to say how much I delight in the crazy toothy five minutes we get of Timothy Carey. This guy just eats up the screen in any film he's in. Why the hell is he mugging like that, all teeth and grins and strange lingo that we can hardly make out, when we first see him at the hide-out? There's a bit, it's only about a minute long, where "Doc" Penny is finalizing the robbery plans, and Carey is for some reason sitting on the floor, in the background. But it's Carey I'm looking at, not Ted de Corsia. He's presumably guarding the bathroom door where Ellen Lacey is, but the whole thing seems extremely odd and creepy. And the whole time "Doc" is speaking, Carey's madly grinning and widening his eyes, etc. What a shameless exuberant ham ! I love this guy.

Guys ! This argument you're having really isn't very interesting - except, obviously, to the two of you. Of course you both have every right to pursue it, and I do hate officious people who try to referee internet sites, which I guess in a way is what I'm doing by posting this. But honestly, there's more interesting stuff to talk about. I probably shouldn't say this, since I don't want to take sides (and therefore possibly prolong the tedious debate), but I will admit that I am very good at the "willing suspension of disbelief " thing in movies, and I've never had a problem with the many scenes in old ( and even not so old) films in which someone's running along the top of a train. Yeah, sure, in real life they probably would fall off and be killed. But it's a movie. So I'm ok with it. "That said", I respect cigarjoe's detailed knowledge on such matters.

If I knew how to put two quotes in a single post, I'd have included Swithin's comments on D.H. Lawrence here. (I was going to just say "Lawrence" and then worried that some people might think I was talking about one of our faithful posters here...) So, to all you D.H. Lawrence fans out there - including the gentlemanly Swithin - - I have to say, I've tried reading this writer, and I just can't handle it. My primary objection to his writing is, as far as I can tell, he has absolutely NO sense of humour. A writer does not have to be funny or make me laugh for me to like him or her. In fact, most of my favourite writers I would not say were known as comic writers. But they do all have a certain wit, or at the very least, a certain self-awareness that saves them from sounding pompous or grandiose or at any rate, too damn serious for their own good. Sorry Swithin baby, I realize it's not nice to hear someone call one of your favourite writers names. And ok, I'll back off applying the "pompous" and "grandiose" epithets to Lawrence. But I will continue to maintain that Mr. D.H.Lawrence seems to take himself extremely seriously, and that somehow spoils the reading fun for me. An exception: I do like his short story "The Rocking Horse Winner". The story's very good. It was made into a movie, quite a good one that actually did the story justice, in 1949. The film retains the mysterious and oddly erotic quality of the story.

Well, what can you expect from anything based on D.H.Lawrence?