TomJH

Yup, the thread itself would be pitchforked by the moderators within a day.

Hard To Handle (1933) Zippy little Depression era comedy with James Cagney as a fast talking promoter and his various schemes to try to come up with money. Those schemes range from a fixed dance marathon to a thick cream that won't vanish when rubbed promoted as a weight reducer to an 18 day grapefruit diet. The film opens impressively with the last two exhausted couples still standing in a dance marathon as crowds watch to see who will fall (two falls and you're out and both couples have fallen once). Mary Brian is one of the two contestants, upon whom marathon promoter Cagney is sweet and for whom he hopes to rig the contest. You'll recognize Sterling Holloway as the male partner of the other couple and, in an engaging performance, Allen Jenkins as the motor mouth marathon commentator with a series of amusing observations. Cagney is a marvel in this fast moving comedy (he refers to the public as "a big cow waiting to be milked"), constantly angling, in money one day, out the next then back in again. Mary Brian, cute but looking a little tacky with blonde hair, is the girl he pursues (literally, across the country). She doesn't make much of a contribution to the comedy of the film, merely a romantic prop (and inspiration) for Cagney and his schemes. Brian's character is a "nice girl," but hilariously cast as her gold digging mother is Ruth Donnelly, who comes very close to stealing the film. Donnelly is looking for a gold mine for her daughter to marry to put them both in the gravy and her attitude towards Cagney throughout the film turns on a dime depending upon what Jimmy's financial prospects may be. Cagney cheerfully accepts Donnelly for what she is because, when it comes to hustling, they're two of a kind (though Ruth may be a little more mercenary). At one point Donnelly threatens to put her foot in Cagney's mouth to which Jimmy gleefully responds, "My mouth's not that big!" as he ducks out a window to escape from her. At another point in the film Cagney and Brian are having a private conversation in a room. Cagney opens the door and Donnelly falls into the room flat on her face. It's that kind of comedy and, if you're in the right mood for it, can be a lot of unpretentious fun. Cagney always looked down upon the series of low budget comedies in which Warners cast him during the pre Code period but, in many respects, he was at his whirling dervish peak as a performer then and gave some of his funniest performances. The films may lack substance but the best of them do entertain. Hard to Handle is a fine illustration of it. The grapefruit references in the film can be seen as homage to Cagney's Public Enemy association with the fruit. 2.5 out of 4

Straight's scene in which she confronts Holden always impressed me. Her anguish is truly palpable. But I think it is one of the shortest screen appearances to get an Oscar.

If I really get into a film emotionally I will probably not notice aspects of the film along this nature. Most of the time, though, I'm noticing the little things like stunt doubles or rear screen projection. That also includes flubs such as Scarlett O'Hara leaving the Wilkes home and momentarily placing her hand on a porch post which wobbles after she removes her hand from it or the shadow of a boom microphone appearing on a door as Scarlett speaks (both of which occur in the film). Yes, it can be distracting to spot stuff like this, at times. Other times, though, I find it kinda fun to catch the errors, particularly if it is in a big film like GWTW dripping with lavish production values. But there are times, MissW, when I suspect that even you would notice a stunt double. There is a scene in Universal's The Mummy's Hand (1940) in which character actor George Zucco who, if not actually bald, certainly had a profound lack of hair, is shot. As his body rolls down a long flight of stone stairs he is doubled by a man with a full head of dark hair.

Sylvia Miles in Farewell My Lovely

Balloon Guy in The Third Man A real character face who merely repeats the word, "Balloon" several times. Somewhere I read that this guy was a local that director Carol Reed found when the film was shot on location in Vienna. I wonder if anyone even knows the name of the performer (I don't see him listed anywhere in IMDb's extensive cast list) , but Balloon Guy's brief moment on screen stays with me. Of course, it helps that the director gave this character a great introduction

Thanks for the thoughtful review, Miss W. While the Tracy version of Stevenson's novella is not my favourite screen adaption (I find the Rouben Mamoulian-Fredric March version more exciting and bolder as far as sexuality is concerned, being done in the pre Code period; I'm also partial to the Jack Palance take, a Canadian production, from the late '60s), the 1941 MGM version is interesting, mostly for Ingrid Bergman being cast against type as Ivy. I happened to catch the ending today and laughed a little when I saw the surprised look on Ian Hunter's face when he saw Tracy transform from Mr. Hyde to Dr. Jekyll. I mean, come on, Tracy's Mr Hyde looks like Tracy's Dr. Jekyll on a rough day with his hair messed up and a bit of a hangover. Did Hunter really not have a clue that one could be the other (unlike the Mr. Hydes in the March and Palance versions which bore no physical resemblance to their Jekyll counterparts). You made reference to Tracy's nimbleness in leaping over wrought iron fences in the film, MissW. We might also give a little credit to the actor's stunt doubles in those same scenes, as well. I was struck (to my eyes, at least) by the obviousness of the doubling in any of the action scenes in the film's latter part. Spotting stunt doubles like that always take me a little bit out of the scene for a moment, even if I appreciate the skill of the stunt men involved.

I watched The Big Sleep again last night. Great film, one of my favourites. And, once again, I took chilling note of Bob Steele's performance as the cold blooded killer-for-hire Canino. But in viewing the film it occurred to me that it's doubtful that Steele has much more than twelve minutes or so on the screen, all in the film's last half hour. But his is a performance of malevolence that stays with you. Elisha Cook Jr, as little Jonesy, in that same film also falls into the same category. Has anyone else got any favourite "small" performances, small in screen time but big in impact.

A friend of mine said that she saw Cyd Charisse and Tony Martin together in, I believe, Puerto Rico. Now this was quite a few years ago, maybe in the '70s or '80s. She commented that while Martin hadn't aged very well, Cyd looked fabulous.

Some Socket Hot A man takes a bet he can stick his wet toe in an electrical socket and still be OK, leading to an inscription on his tombstone, "WE TOLD YOU HE WAS STUPID."

Sweet Smell of Undress The story of a woman who was very proud of her under arm deodorant The Honeymoon Killer Story of a guy who liked to surprise people Gone With The Wind Story of a guy who ate fourteen cans of beans one day

Here's a shot of Harold Lloyd from the spine tingling The Man Who Hung Around Clocks Too Much, one of Alfred Hatchplot's lesser known films

I almost gagged when I heard that Burton had been considered for the role of Marlowe. Sorry, too much the Welshman. I'm glad Mitchum got the role. He's very credible as an older Marlowe. The only thing stranger than casting Burton as Chandler's private eye would have been to cast Elliot Gould. Thank God that never hap . . . Yikes, I just remembered! Okay, see what I mean?

Here's a shot of the three Barrymores in their younger days. Sorry, I couldn't find a date for this pix. Lionel, in particular, looks like a kid here, compared to the character actor we're so used to seeing. I wonder if Ethel was regarded as a beauty by some then. Based on these photos, quite possibly so.

Actually, what I said is that Tempest probably has Barrymore's best performance of the silent era. But I very much like the film itself, as well, ranking it as one of my three favourites of his of that era, along with Don Juan and The Beloved Rogue. The latter film has him swashbuckling, but combined with much physical humour in the early scenes, as he portrays Francois Villon. This is the closest that he came to competing with Fairbanks when it came to a physical costume performance. He turns melodramatically hammy in the film's final scenes but, prior to that, he's quite delightful to watch. Neither of the films you mentioned made much of an impression upon me, though I suspect that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is Barrymore's most famous (and viewed) silent. Beau Brummel I found pretty stiff as a film and John really overdoes the mad scene. Another silent in which he is really over the top is The Sea Beast, the first of two adaptions of Moby Dick he would be in. It's tough to find a decent looking print of this one, though, and, I admit, it's been quite a few years since I last saw it.

Hopefully the big screen with make a difference for you with Grand Hotel. The first time I saw it was in the basement of a church where a film society held their screenings. Around 30 of us watched it then. I enjoy the performances of much of the cast. The two Barrymores are both wonders for me, particularly good in any of the scenes they share together. Again, watch the sensitivity and sympathy that John extends towards Lionel in their scenes together. Lionel is at his peak as a scene stealer here. And Crawford, not one of my favourite actresses, is extremely impressive, as well. There's not a false, "actressy" note in her portrayal. Some think she takes the film with this performance. I'll even give Wally Beery credit for being the one cast member who attempts a German accent. The only performer in Grand Hotel whose work dates terribly for me is Garbo. In trying to portray the emotional highs and moody lows of an "artiste" I think she way overdoes it and her scenes are the hardest for me to get through, including her love scenes with John. The first time I saw this film was the first time I ever saw Garbo and I didn't quite know what to make of her as an actress. Since then I've seen her other films, realize how much more understated and effective she could be and now regard her performance as the ballerina here as close to the worst of her career. Ironically, though, Grand Hotel may be the film of her career that I like the most. When Garbo says, "I vant to be alone," I think, "Yeh, let's do that. Let's all just move on to someone else in this film."

"What do you mean Theodore Roberts did it better than me?"

"Let's get this thread back on its proper track again. And if any of you disagree with me I'll put your head on a pike!"

Thanks, Detective Jim. There was a lot of expository dialogue between Frank (Mr. Nosey) Craven and J. Edward Bromberg (the Van Helsing clone) in the film and I missed that reference you caught to Alucard's ancestry. I think you're being rather kind, though, to Robert Paige's character when you say he's "kind of neurotic and reckless" when he shoots a character six times after being knocked down by him and sets a bedroom on fire (no matter what the reason). Using fire to destroy a vampire rather than a stake through the heart I guess was considered less violent. Even when Lugosi got the stake in Dracula it was done off camera with just a groan heard from Bela. But Son of Dracula is definitely a fun ride and I find Louise Allbritton's attraction to vampirism one of the film's most interesting aspects, certainly for a film of its time. I suspect she was the first female character in any vampire movie to be obsessed with immortality of the undead like that.

Really, TikiSoo? Amazing how two people can see the same performance and come away with different impressions of it. I think John Barrymore is at his most elegant as the Baron in Grand Hotel. He is charming, amusing and flirtatious in his scenes with Crawford, while later showing sensitivity in those he shares with brother Lionel. John also hints that beneath his debonair appearance the Baron is a lonely man, bringing a little vulnerability to the role. Only his love scenes with Garbo now seem over done and dated to me. Nevertheless that's just one film and it's apparent that, like me, you appreciate Barrymore's versatility and talent. With his great speaking voice stilled during the silent era Barrymore was denied the opportunity to flourish at his best (such as he would have in the pre Code era) , and a lot of ham can be seen in his work then. However, one very effective performance that he gave during that period, and probably Barrymore's finest performance of the silents, was in Tempest (1928), a costume production set just prior to and during the Russian Revolution. The film gets quite melodramatic, of course, typical of films of its period, but Barrymore is dashing, charming and sympathetic as a commoner who becomes a soldier but is looked down upon by all the aristocrats who share the military with him. He's also looked down upon by a royal Princess, whom he sets out to rescue when the revolution erupts. Barrymore shows considerable charm and sensitivity, at times, in this film while also docking his shirt to show that, at age 44, he was probably at the peak of his male beauty. Louis Wolheim, two years prior to All Quiet on the Western Front, plays Barrymore's jovial, booming companion, his one true friend. There will also be a melodramatic mad scene in a prison cell for John. All in all, for Barrymore fans, it's an impressive show. TCM has never shown Tempest, to the best of my knowledge, but KINO has released an okay looking print of the film on DVD a few years ago. My favourite moment in the film is relatively early when Barrymore, as a soldier, is invited to a royal ball. His outsider status (because of his peasant stock) is beautifully established in a shot of Barrymore standing in shadow on the outside of the ball room. It reminds me of a similar image of Chaplin from The Gold Rush, shot three years before.

Errol would be so disappointed in you for making this statement, Speedy, and would encourage you to take another look. John Barrymore, particularly during the pre-Code period, demonstrated remarkable versatility as an actor. Fortunately the majority of his films from this period come on TCM, ranging from swashbucklers (Don Juan) to Grand Guignol melodrama (Svengali, Mad Genius) to romantic drama (Grand Hotel, Arsene Lupin) to character comedy and drama (Topaze, Councillor at Law) to screwball comedy (20th Century). Yes, he could be a ham at times, particularly in his final years when playing self spoofing comedy, but, when he was inspired in the right role (ie Topaze) he was also capable of great sensitivity. He could be a romantic figure, as well as a scoundrel.

Yes, The Mad Genius is a fun film, directed by Michael Curtiz, making me wish that Curtiz had directed Svengali, as well. Barrymore's a lot of fun in this film. And what a bizarre ending! The film even had pre Code drug activity through shadows.