TomJH

I bet that really would have been the case if Movie Madness have been in charge.

I recall that the first time I saw GWTW was when my parents took me to see it at its 1967 revival. There was a general sadness at the time as Vivien Leigh had just passed away that year, leaving Olivia de Havilland as the only principle cast member still around (which is STILL the case, of course, all these decades later). I enjoyed the film very much but was stuck by what TERRIBLE colour it had. Everything on the screen seemed so orange. I was a fan of The Adventures of Robin Hood and proclaimed far and wide afterward to anyone who would listen just how superior its colour was to that in Wind. It wasn't until later that I discovered that the Technicolor prints of GWTW had badly discoloured with time, and it wouldn't be until some years later that the film was restored bringing it back to the outstanding Technicolor with which we associate it today. But, believe me, folks, in 1967 GWTW's colour was in a very sad condition, and that is the version that people paid money to see at its re-release in the theatres that year. I'm not certain, however, that the Technicolor quality we see in the film, since it went through a restoration process, is exactly the same as audiences viewed in 1939.

Constance Collier in KITTY (1945) That's Collier on the left. A wonderful, rich, detailed character performance from a British stage veteran (at age 3 she had played a fairy in a stage adaption of A Midsummer Night's Dream). Collier had a big personality and delivers a grand theatrical portrayal in this production that is clearly a reflection of her stage origins. It's a delight to watch her in this Pygmalion derived tale as she teaches etiquette and voice training to guttersnipe Paulette Goddard. At the same time Collier has comedic fun playing a character deep in her cups as she recuperates in bed in her first scene. And the casting of Collier in this role, by the way, couldn't be more appropriate. Remember those priceless scenes of voice training during the transition from silents to talkies in Singin' in the Rain? Well, that's what Collier was doing in Hollywood during that period as a voice coach (working with, among others, Colleen Moore and later Luise Rainer; still later a drama coach working with Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe). In 1932 it was Collier who originated the role of Carlotta Vance on the stage in Dinner at Eight, the year before Marie Dressler memorably played the same role in the movies. Fans of Stage Door may recognize her as Mrs. Luther in that film. Collier's friendship with Katharine Hepburn would endure to her death in 1955. It's a shame that Collier's work in Dinner at Eight was not immortalized on film. At least we do have her in a few screen performances, however, of which Kitty is a prime illustration of the lady's prodigious acting talents. In Hitchcock's Rope

I agree, though Errol was playing it strictly tongue-in-cheek in Thank Your Lucky Stars, especially since he's faking his singing in this scene. And , in a moment, he'll openly admit it, when he says, "Oh that voice is so divine. I only wish that it was mine."

Dwight Frye as Renfield in DRACULA Subtle he ain't

"Arrrrr. You got that right, matey! Who'd cut a Bible?"

John Barrymore in a joyous parody of Broadway eccentrics in 20TH CENTURY. The actor's tendency towards ham was never more appropriate.

To me over theatrical sounds like a nice way of saying hammy.

No, I'm not talking about what you may have had for dinner last night. I'm speaking, instead, about those rich over-the-top performances usually called "ham" that you find enjoyable and think add to the fun of a film. I realize that some actors or actresses are downright annoying when they do this but, then, there are the others that get away with it. Here's one of my favourites as an illustration, Basil Rathbone in CAPTAIN BLOOD. He played that dastardly pirate Captain Levasseur, a curly haired, French accented dandy with flair and, yes, a lot of tongue rolling ham. I find that the best actors can get away with this kind of performance. Rathbone looks like he's having a lot of fun in the role and that fun is infectious to the audience. At least it was to me. Here he is with the "rosary of pain" in his hands. It is "poseeeble" to screw a man's eyes out of his head with this device, he enthusiastically tells one captive. No party would be complete without one and a guy like Levasseur eager to give a demonstration. So what are some of the hammy screen performances that have given you the most pleasure?

I can understand that, TikiSoo. For my money there is no more powerful or inspiration scene in GWTW than this one, with Scarlett's declaration to God that neither she nor her family will ever starve again. Along with its stunning photography and Max Steiner's glorious musical score which slowly builds, oh how the passion and strength of Vivien Leigh sells it! This is truly one of the great moments of the movies.

George Kennedy as the sadistic prison guard in LONELY ARE THE BRAVE. Kennedy gives a hate filled performance. One of the most satisfying moments in the film is pictured below, when Kirk Douglas finally gets the drop on a man who relishes being in a power position over others.

Yeh, probably, but . . .

That makes me recall a school party I went to in the mid- '70s in which two women were recreating and then re-recreating the scene in which Scarlett slaps Prissy. "I don't know nothin' 'bout birthing no babies," one kept saying as the other one would grab her and make a sweeping motion with her flattened hand just missing the other's face as she yelled "SLAP!" Everyone was laughing and I joined in, fancying that I could do a pretty fair Gable impersonation, pulling out my ears for added effect as I growled, "Now, Scarlett, you STOP THAT!" Of course she didn't as the fake slaps continued. It was a lot of fun at the time and everybody there "got it" without anyone having to explain to anybody that we doing GWTW. I wonder if something like that could happen at a party today.

GWTW would, I suspect, look like a pretty postcard film, a relic of its time in its romantic fanciful presentation of the antebellum South as well as a politically incorrect movie (its racism walking gently through the back door as opposed to Birth of a Nation which bursts in its full ugliness through the front door) if it was not for the magnificence of Vivien Leigh's portrayal. Leigh's Scarlett O'Hara remains the focal point of the film throughout. Even when the production's interest threatens to totter to a degree in its soap opera second half the depth of the actress's performance keeps this epic standing straight.

I see that TCM is showing The Sea Wolf at 2 am Wednesday morning. Their schedule says it will be the 100 minute version, rather than the 87 minute version they have shown for years. In view of that, here is a review that I wrote a couple of years ago after having seen the restored version. The Sea Wolf (1941) Many posters, I'm sure, will be familiar with this vivid Warner Brothers adaption of the Jack London novel since it has been shown so many times over the years on TCM. If you haven't caught this production, however, you're overdue to do so. Only now there is a difference. The Warners Archive Collection has just released the full original version of the film on DVD, available for viewing in its complete version for the first time since 1941. This film was re-released in 1947 (in combination with Warners' The Sea Hawk) but both films were edited so more tickets could be sold for extra daily viewings for a shorter double bill. The Sea Hawk's edited scenes were restored to that film a number of years ago but, until this week with the DVD release, The Sea Wolf's television broadcasts were always the 1947 re-edited version. For the record the running time of the print shown on TCM has been 87:12, while the print on the Archive release runs 99:46. The Sea Wolf is representative of Warners at the peak of its studio expertise. With Michael Curtiz in full dynamic directorial form, accompanied by his favourite cinematographer, Sol Polito, and sets by Anton Grot, a terrific ensemble cast all rise to the top with vivid characterizations. All of this plus a dark, at times ominous, musical score by Erich Wolfgang Korngold, makes for a stirring tale of brutality and oppression set aboard a sealing vessel, The Ghost. As the brutal, sadistic captain of the ship, Wolf Larsen, Edward G. Robinson gives one of the great performances of his career. In fact this has long been my favourite Robinson film and performance, and that's saying a lot considering the often brilliant work this actor accomplished throughout his career. It's a complex characterization, however, he's not just a mere brute. But the supporting cast is a standout, as well. John Garfield brings sensitivity to his role as a rebellious crew member, and Ida Lupino is terrific as an escaped convict (we never know her crime) who finds herself aboard The Ghost because of circumstances, and is tormented by Robinson as much as any of the male crew members. But there is also Gene Lockhart as the pathetic alcoholic ship's doctor who wants to be treated with dignity (something the sadistic Larsen will never allow) and Barry Fitzgerald as Cookie, the ship's knife wielding cook and chief informant to the captain, a conniving, evil little man who cackles with glee as others around him are tormented but remains fearful of the captain himself. In viewing the twelve and a half minutes restored to the film it is apparent there was no one big scene missing all these years. Scenes in the film were trimmed, so you might catch selections of a 30 second bit here or there that you've never seen before. There's a small bit at the film's beginning, for example, in which Garfield is hiding from police on a Frisco street that's new, later you see the character of the bookish Van Weyden (played, and played well, by Alexander Knox) when he first wakes up on The Ghost after being fished out of the drink. My favourite restored scene runs about 75 seconds, and it was gratifying to see it for the first time. It's when Lupino's character is first revealed as a jailbird on the ship before the laughing crew and she begs Robinson to set her ashore somewhere other than return her to Frisco (where police are looking for her). Lupino is stunning in this scene, pleading in vain with Robinson, even to the extent of offering to make it "worthwhile" for him if he does so, to which he barks at her she's not on the Barbary Coast. Lupino pleads, cries and collapses. It's a great moment for her, showing her full dramatic force as an actress, and there is also a telling closeup of Garfield, his eyes filled with pain, as he sees her grovel before a brute like Wolf Larsen. "Don't beg him," he tells her as he leaps beside her, ready to spit in Robinson's eye even if it means another beating. "Beg?" a distraught Lupino responds, "I'd crawl on my knees over every inch of this deck. I'd do anything, ANYTHING, to not have to go back!" It's a very strong scene, and it's great to see it restored to the film. One more thing. I know the Archive Collection doesn't spend any more money on these prints than is necessary but this 35 mil. print of The Sea Wolf is beautiful, with all of the new scenes seamlessly restored to the production. Warners really did do this film justice with this release. I'm assuming that TCM will eventually broadcast this version of the film, for those who don't care to spend the money on the DVD. The Sea Wolf is one of those dramatically stirring productions that fully deserves to be hailed as a film classic, in my opinion. It has always mystified me that this film is not better known. 3.5 out of 4

Wednesday, February 26 2 am (EST) THE SEA WOLF TCM has shown this classic version of the Jack London tale many times but I see that they are listing this version as 100 minutes. If so then the channel is showing the version that was recently restored to its full length rather than the 87 minute version they have broadcast for years. Edward G. Robinson at his most brilliant, with an outstanding supporting cast all under the direction of Michael Curtiz in peak form.

I can see why some might say that but I thought he was more of an emotionally distant man who had difficulty relating to others in that film than he was an out and out cad. Flynn called That Forsyte Woman one of his favourite films, and I can understand why, though, having said that, I don't care for the film that much. I think he's the best thing in the film, mind you, but I prefer much of his work at Warners (Silver River, for example).

Well, I'm sure that Speedy will probably concur. Not only did Errol play a louse in Silver River but he did it a few years before in Uncertain Glory, as well. And Flynn gave, for my money, two of his best performances in those films. If you want to add another heroic screen figure into the mix try Ty Power in Nightmare Alley. There was something about the post war period that had some screen heroic figures wanting to play ambitious louses, for a change. Interestingly, though, the Power film, as well as the two Flynn films, were all box office turkeys. The public didn't seem to want to see its heroes change, it would appear, frustrating, I'm sure, for the actors involved. Bright Leaf, though, did well at the 1950 box office, but Coop only started to experiment with his screen image, playing somewhat darker characters at the very end of his career, in The Hanging Tree, Wreck of the Mary Deare and, as a murder suspect in The Naked Edge.

I don't know if you've seen Silver River, with Errol Flynn as another ambitious ruthless louse (dealing with the silver mining industry) who goes one step beyond Coop in Bright Leaf and deliberately sends a man into Indian territory hoping that he will be killed by Indians on the warpath (which does happen) so he can claim his wife. You might throw him into the mix with the others, but, of course, Day Lewis, without the Producton Code's overview, as you pointed out, is far more extreme and gets away with even more.

I hadn't considered that. Both characters are ruthless though, of course, Day Lewis becomes psychotic. I have to call this comparison a stretch, Dargo, unless you have some interesting insights I hadn't considered.

Patricia Neal and Lauren Bacall both wanted the same role, that of the good hearted madame in Bright Leaf. Bogart, who had a big influence at Warners, heavily lobbied for his wife to get the role, while Neal was disappointed in Cooper for not doing the same thing for her (but that was typical Cooper, he wasn't a fighter, not even for himself when it came to getting film roles). We have a difference of opinion about the performances of the two actresses in this film, sewhite. I think Neal is wide eyed hysterical in her spoiled southern belle role while Bacall is warm and appealing in a more sympathetic part. I agree, though, that it's interesting watching Cooper play an ambitious louse, for a change, and it's not a bad performance. This may have been the most dislikable role that Gary Cooper ever played.

For anyone interested in Patricia Neal this is a remarkable read about a life of pain and forgiveness, and the most unexpected friendships that can form Patricia Neal's Dramatic Journey of Love, Healing & Forgiveness https://www.forbes.com/sites/maryclairekendall/2013/08/08/patricia-neals-dramatic-journey-of-love-healing-forgiveness/#9551983783bd

There's nothing quite so inspirational as hearing someone half my age refer to himself as "old." It makes me feel I'm lucky the dirt wasn't thrown over my head a long time ago.

Ah, another jungle film fan speaks! Ungawa!!!

Often, in spotting an airplane, my terminology for the plane will be a throwback to my Tarzan watching days . . . "Big iron bird."