TomJH

I've been looking forward to this one but now my Canadian supplier says they are showing The Heavenly Body instead. DAMN, DAMN, DAMN!

Well all I can say is that I will never say or write his Lithuanian name either. I feel extremely confident that this is a vow that will NEVER be broken (if only because I won't remember his name)..

Good to see you back, Lawrence, and thanks for the double reminders. Aside from He Who Shall Not Be Named, I can't stand Jerry Lewis. Not funny, not funny, not funny! But loud and annoying, yes. I do like the Stooges, except for their final shorts in which they recruited Joe Besser as the third stooge. Joe Besser is painfully unfunny, with an emphasis on the pain part.

It depends upon which version of Hunchback you've seen. Quasimodo dies in the Chaney silent, for example. I can't remember how the Anthony Quinn version ended but at the end of Hugo's novel Quasimodo's breathing days are all over, too (not to mention those of Esmeralda).

Now you spoiled it! Nevertheless, alone as I may be, I shall proudly continue to refuse to either say or write the name of this actor who brings with him the same delirious joy as a trip to the dentist.

Thanks for keeping him nameless, Dargo. That's the 'I refuse to say this turkey's name" spirit!

I don't like one actor,my dislike of him is so extensive that I have neither said nor written his name for about 30 years. He did appear, though, in Room at the Top and The Manchurian Candidate so I guess you know who this cold stuffed shirt is.

Possibly Quasimodo, associated with the gypsy girl with whom he is in love but can never have, is classified in the minds of many as yet another of the Beauty and the Beast stories. That, combined with the hunchback's unfortunate appearance, is probably enough for the tale to be classified as "horror" in the minds of many. Having said that, I can understand why someone might question the classification.

I have nothing but sympathy for coyotes forced to live in suburbs. I once had one rush past me as I was walking my small dog, no more than a foot from my pet. I didn't see him as he came from behind and he just wanted to get away from us. I've seen more than a few people panic and shout and even scream when they saw a coyote, afraid they might be attacked by him. The poor animal just ran faster than ever to get away. Of course they often say that shouting will frighten these animals but, in these cases, these people were shouting because they were almost as afraid as the coyote.

Cry of the Werewolf should be supplied with a pillow to make it that much more comfortable for you when you sleep through the thing.

I just viewed Cry of the Werewolf for the first time. Competition for Lon Chaney Jr. in The Wolf Man this film is not. In fact I think I had a better time earlier in the day when I had to unplug my toilet. Columbia produced it, not a studio known for its horror films and it showed here, even though that same studio had produced the atmospheric, entertaining Return of the Vampire only a view months before. Speaking of atmosphere, Cry could have used some, as well as a leading man who didn't have the excitement of a vacuum cleaner salesman. Done on the cheap with somebody's german shepherd substituting as a werewolf. A total waste of good actors like Nina Foch (as a gypsy queen yet) and Blanche Yurka (who had a better time rolling around on the floor with Edna May Oliver - talk about erotic! - in A Tale of Two Cities). The next time you're having a difficult time getting to sleep I highly recommend putting this film on. It may be almost as good as trying to read the first two pages of Silas Marner (I've never made it to page 3). Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz . . .

One of the hammiest performances Laughton ever gave. And to think, this was done the same year that he would later give his great performance as Quasimodo. O'Hara, though, is quite good in the Hitchcock film.

Coyotes are in the suburbs in southern Ontario. I frequently see a mangy one rushing along side a creek nearby, as well as having seen a young one in the park behind my house. Some people are afraid of them, and there may be reason to be concerned if you have a cat or small dog. But I find coyotes to be very skittish around people and don't find them a threat in any way. Just shout or bang something and they will probably take off. Coyotes are truly victims with their natural habitat disappearing on them due to developers. The animals have to go somewhere so they invade suburbs, much to the consternation of many of their inhabitants. They don't want to be in the burbs, I'm sure, any more than suburbanites want to see them there. In that respect, we're all victims.

There are a lot of great Barrymore anecdotes, with the following one a nice illustration. Not long after Jack's 101 night run as Hamlet to smash theatrical reviews in 1922, Warner Brothers was determined to lure the actor to their studio for the prestige that his name would bring to their fledgling organization. Barrymore had already made a few silent films for other studios but his status zoomed to greater heights (not to mention his income) and he was soon being entertained by Mary Pickford and Doug Fairbanks at Pickfair (anyone invited there knew they were "in" in Hollywood society), as well as by William Randolph Hearst at his San Simeone castle. Charlie Chaplin's second wife later recounted that the comedian went into a strange retreat at the time, feeling that Barrymore had automatically overshadowed him. On one occasion, while making the social rounds, Barrymore met Elinor Glyn, the portly British authoress, known at the time for her erotic fiction and perhaps best remembered today for coining the expression "It" as a description of sexual allure. Clara Bow would soon become known as the "It Girl" due to Glyn. Upon their meeting Glyn asked the celebrated actor, "Mr. Barrymore, are you passionate?" as she held his hand to her expansive bosom. "I have been and I have high hopes of being again," he replied, "but, at the moment, not in the least." ". . . not in the least." "I may be feeling a little something now, though."

What is it with these women who love their bad boys?

I agree that Flynn was touching when he played Barrymore. However, just as the film's screenplay jettisoned a lot of the truth behind the stories of Diana and John Barrymore, I think Errol gave a gentle toned down portrait of his old friend and drinking buddy. The real Barrymore, towards the end, was often a crude vulgarian, none of which is even hinted at in the film, thus making Flynn's portrait of Barrymore a more sympathetic one than would have been a more historically accurate account. But Flynn's portrait did capture the tragic ruin that comes with alcoholism, as well as the often dysfunctional family relationships that are a result of it. Flynn knew all about the physical and spiritual decline as well as self loathing that Barrymore went through only too well.

Except for the word "tragic" being added, it's completely a Flynn quote.

These tragic men with a zest for living but, as Flynn wrote, twice an urge to die.

This is the only photograph I have ever seen of the two of them together. Judging by his appearance this looks like it's clearly towards the end of Barrymore's life. According to those in attendance at the time Flynn was providing anecdotes about Barrymore, among other Hollywood legends, just an hour or so before his own death. Two decades later here's a photo of their sons together, taken when John Drew Barrymore visited Sean Flynn in his dressing room when the latter was filming Son of Captain Blood.

Anything that I've read of The Man from Blankley's indicates that Barrymore's light comedy skills were on full enviable display. It's a shame this one is lost. It's interesting, though, that the soundtrack disks still survive. Another lost Barrymore is the silent version of his last silent, General Crack. There is a talkie version still in existence (I saw a very grim looking version of it) but, apparently, the silent version is the superior one. Here's an existing clip of the silent version

I'm a big fan of Topaze (a really lovely, gentle performance by Barrymore, particularly in his earlier scenes when he plays an idealistic, naive school teacher who has never lived outside of academic circles) and State's Attorney. In the latter John plays his character as slightly potted in most of his scenes, one of the first films in which audiences must have been starting to see Barrymore's real life character merging with that played on screen. The film is slick, efficient and Barrymore delivers a commanding, completely charismatic performance. He was also fun to watch in The Invisible Woman even if he can be accused of playing his character "cutesy." It's a shame that one of Barrymore's earliest talkies, a comedy, The Man from Blankley's, is a lost film. The actor got solid reviews at the time playing a character in a slightly inebriated condition throughout the film. One of our fellow posters here, Arturo, said that he saw a print of this film when he was young. He may be the only one on these boards to be able to make the claim. The lost Man from Blankley's

I agree. The Barrymore brothers are both at the top of their game in Arsene Lupin and make very entertaining cat and mouse antagonists with one another. John is charming and elegant in his role. This part can be seen as pretty much the same one he would play again in Grand Hotel. As far as the writing is concerned, though, for a "smart cookie," don't you think Lupin puts an awful lot of stock in depending upon his many underlings to not spill the beans on him? I also watched Night Club Scandal again, an efficient B programmer, I thought, one of those many films in which a smart aleck reporter gets to follow cops around on a murder investigation and even ask questions of suspects in the middle of the cop's investigation. Barrymore is understated and, you're right, missing from the film for stretches of time. It's certainly not a Barrymore star vehicle. My favourite moment of his performance is when he is about to operate on J. Carol Naish and Naish is indicating the possibility of giving away the game on him. There is a telling closeup of Barrymore's face, his features eerily hardening and a fierce look in his eyes as he hears Carol speak. You can tell that something significant is about to happen as a result of this verbal exchange.

Poor old Wally Beery. He's not half bad and he was the only cast member to attempt a German accent. But few seem to talk about his performance in Grand Hotel. For me it's Crawford and the Barrymore brothers who run away with the film.

You daren't? If you're leery of being assaulted by a stream of Garbo fans for criticizing her performance just tell them you vant to be alone.