1954


dial_m_for_murder

If I were to list some of my favourite film directors of all time, I can safely say that Alfred Hitchcock would top the list or, at the very least, come very close. His films, along with those of Woody Allen, Federico Fellini, and Martin Scorsese, have always made me sit up and take notice. Hitchcock simply has a way about him that infuses his movies with humour, wit, and staggering suspense.

1954’s Dial M for Murder finds Hitch working the inverted detective story angle. Essentially the commission of the crime is shown and the identity of the perpetrator is known to the audience. The film then works through the process of identifying the perpetrator and restoring justice. The inverted detective story was used frequently during television programs like Matlock and the like, but here Hitchcock gives it his own slightly askew treatment.

Based on a play by Frederick Knott, Dial M for Murder took the work from the stage play and transferred it to film format with a few subtle changes. The movie takes place in very few settings, with the majority of the action occurring in the main characters’ flat. There is the addition of a second setting, a gentlemen’s club, but Hitch mainly does his work from one vantage point using a variety of camera angles and a handful of style shots.

Smartly, Hitchcock had Knott write the screenplay for the motion picture. Knott’s play, described by critic Stanley Richards as “one of the theatre’s most adroit and ingenious tales of blackmail, murder, and sleuthing,” had its first public performance on BBC television in 1952 and received rave reviews. After a 552 performance run in New York, it was only a matter of time before the issue of film rights came up. Sir Alexander Korda bought it for a thousand pounds. Hitchcock asked Warner Brothers to obtain the rights and the studio wound up paying thirty times that amount to Korda.

Grace Kelly stars in her first of three Hitchcock movies as Margot. Margot is married to Tony Wendice (Ray Milland). Tony used to be a tennis player but now he’s living off of his wife’s fortune. Margot has begun a “friendship” with a young mystery writer named Mark Halliday (Robert Cummings), so Tony begins to feel threatened that he’ll be written out of Margot’s will. For some reason, Tony doesn’t seem all that concerned about the affair…

Tony has been slyly withdrawing money from Margot’s account for a year, intending to use the cash to hire a contract killer to do in his wife. He decides on blackmailing a former acquaintance (Anthony Dawson) to do the job instead and plans the crime out to the letter. Unfortunately for poor Tony, the event is foiled by Margot. Much stronger than anticipated, she overwhelms her attacker and stabs him with a pair of scissors. An investigation is begun by the one and only Inspector Hubbard (John Williams) and the truth is pursued with enchanting, moustache-combing glee.

Hitchcock conducts the events beautifully, cheerfully monitoring the course of Tony in fleeting attempts at getting away with it all. The direction is impeccable, from the high ceiling shots to his observational, meddling camera. Interestingly, Hitch shot the flick using M.L. Gunzberg’s 3-D rig. Unfortunately, the infatuation of the public over 3-D had died down and theatres running the picture didn’t do all that well. Dial M For Murder was revived in 1982 in its 3-D version, however.

The casting is perfect, with Grace Kelly’s natural beauty reflecting marvellously on the screen. She is innocent despite her indiscretions with Mark and it is easy for her to become a cherished heroine to the audience. Her Margot is a woman being used, making her position all the more reasonable. Milland, who intensely played the alcoholic writer in The Lost Weekend, is a fitting creep here and plays his part flawlessly. Williams – the actor, not the composer- is humorous and charming as Hubbard.

Hitchcock’s Dial M for Murder is the perfect example of how to operate the inverted detective story. His use of plot devices, props, the “keys,” and his direction of the performers helps create legitimate thrills despite knowing “whodunit.” The process is what Dial M for Murder is all about and, as usual, Hitchcock has developed and constructed the model for others to follow.

9.4/10

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Akira Kurosawa’s quintessential masterpiece Seven Samurai set the bar pretty high for epic movies. This 1954 classic is considered one of the most influential films of all time and represents the single largest undertaking by a Japanese director at the time.

Seven Samurai is important not only because of its greatness as a standalone film, but because of the genre it kick-started. Kurosawa’s epic is the first film in which a team (yes, even before The A-Team) is assembled to complete a mission of some sort. This concept became a Hollywood favourite, as other films began to use the format to great success. Think The Dirty Dozen or The Guns of Navarone.

Regardless of its possible influence, Seven Samurai is a hell of a film. Clocking in at just a touch under three and a half hours, this is epic stuff. Kurosawa’s purpose here is clear: to create a samurai story with elements of humanism. By giving his characters depth and personalities, he grants them the ability to connect with the audience.

One of the focal points of Seven Samurai is the notion of different classes. The samurai are hired by villagers and never the two castes shall mingle. The villagers, as we learn, have been hostile to samurai in the past (but likely had good reasons). The relationship between the samurai and the villagers is somewhat fragile, to say the least. Yet there is a common enemy in the bandits and the samurai represent the lesser of two evils in the eyes of the farmers.

Kurosawa also examines the nature of the samurai. Why do the samurai take the job? Why would they risk their lives for a mere handful of rice a day? Surely these greatly skilled men can do better. Kurosawa’s explanation of societal roles is at the core of Seven Samurai. The explanation for why the samurai help the farmers is related to the nature of the men and the roles they fulfill in society. It is considered a cultural trait in Japan to fulfill complex social obligations at great peril. This is why both the samurai and the bandits persevere, even to death. They must.

The plot of Seven Samurai is reasonably simple and familiar, so I won’t spend much time on it. There is a village constantly under the terror of bandits. The villagers tire of being relentlessly attacked and pillaged by this heinous crew of baddies, so they aim to recruit mercenaries to fight for their cause. The villagers only have rice to offer in return, however, so the quest to find mercenaries who will fight only for food is a complex one. Eventually, a crew of seven samurai arrange to defend the villagers. The samurai train the villagers to defend their homes and crops, too, and the battle to save the village is on.

The leader of the group is Kambei Shimada (Takashi Shimura). He is the first recruited by the villagers and is very wise and thoughtful. Kambei is very methodical in his approach and is the ideal organizer for this mission. Gorōbei Katayama (Yoshio Inaba) is the second samurai hired. He helps Kambei with the planning of the defence of the village. Shichirōji (Daisuke Katō) has worked with Kambei before and agrees to join as the third samurai in the crew. Heihachi Hayashida (Minoru Chiaki) is the jokester of the group. Katsushirō Okamoto (Isao Kimura) is a young samurai who wants to be Kambei’s disciple. Kyūzō (Seiji Miyaguchi) is a stone-faced swordsman, the most skilled of the group. Finally, Kikuchiyo (Toshiro Mifune) is the loose cannon of the group.

Each samurai has an important role to play and each is given plenty of screen time with which to work. The characters are enticing and the performances are tremendous, allowing for connection to each of the seven samurai. The way the team works together would set the prototype for other films based around this concept, as the various character types are now common in group dynamics.

The depth to Seven Samurai can not be done justice in a review of any length. Essays have been written about that reveal multiple aspects of Kurosawa’s masterpiece, including his use of focus to reveal actions of equal importance in the foreground and background. Kurosawa also uses repeated mirrored scenes to show the growth and change of characters, such as scenes which show the villagers in various attitudes towards the onrushing bandits. One moment the villagers are fearful, yet in the next scene the villagers have become courageous and even vengeful.

Seven Samurai is the ultimate epic film. It should be required viewing for anyone with a love of movies. Kurosawa has created the ultimate action film about social roles and responsibility, as each individual in this classic act with a sense of duty and responsibility. When the characters experience changes or loss or gain, it is no matter because that is their lot in life. At the end of the day, when it is the farmers who have won and the samurai have lost another battle, we understand why.

10/10

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La Strada

Italian neorealism is a style of film branded by stories set against a milieu of the poor or working class. Neorealism usually uses a good amount of amateur actors and is often filmed on location. Most Italian neorealist films contend with the economic and moral conditions of Italy after World War II, thus reflecting the change in the consciousness of the Italian people as they encounter change, poverty, despair, and defeat. Federico Fellini worked with neorealism a few times in his career, but his films often reflected a shift from neorealism to the tragic malfunction of the human condition to rise to the challenges set after the war.

La Strada is one such transitional movie. Fellini’s 1954 masterpiece reflects the shift from the neorealist notion of social concerns to the concerns of the individual, namely that of compassion in the face of desolation. The title, which means “The Road,” refers in part to the journey Fellini’s characters take throughout the film. Along the road, his characters meet a cast of humans gifted with compassion and warmth. This reflects the true heart of La Strada, demonstrating that this plain and frank little film has something affectionate at its core.

La Strada is very wistful in its nature and this point is heavily accented by the film’s Nino Rota score and by the performance of Giulietta Masina. Masina is Gelsomina, a clownish young girl sold for a few coins by her poor mother to strongman Zampano (Anthony Quinn). Zampano is a performer and drives around the country performing his trick, which is to break a chain with his chest and pass the hat for donations. Zampano is a brusque individual and he abuses Gelsomina as he trains her to be his sidekick. Gelsomina is delicate, but she cannot avoid the effects of Zampano on her spirit. Ever the optimist, Gelsomina remains with Zampano as her spirit crumbles.

A light enters the life of Gelsomina in the appearance of The Fool (Richard Baseheart). The Fool is a circus acrobat who teaches Gelsomina that there is more to her life than pitiless and gratuitous servitude. In telling her that even the slightest of pebbles has a purpose in the universe, The Fool introduces Gelsomina to hope. It turns out that Zampano and The Fool have a long-standing enmity and it eventually boils over, causing Gelsomina to see her hope crushed out and have her spirit broken once and for all. Zampano and Gelsomina deal with the changes in her spirit in their own ways, leading to one of the most memorable finales in all of film history.

Like many films of this nature, page after page of analysis and artistic investigation has been dedicated to figuring out Fellini’s symbolism and his inner workings. La Strada is, perhaps like all of Fellini’s work, reasonably effortless to take hold of. You need not be a film expert or a cinephile to understand what La Strada means or what purpose the characters serve. Fellini’s motion picture is based around the simple concept of a brute in the company of an angel. The brute, Zampano, is based largely on Fellini’s own experiences from his youth in Rimini. According to Fellini, there was a pig castrator who lived there who was known as a loutish womanizer. The disposition of Zampano came from his memories of the castrator.

Fellini’s approach to telling the story here is almost down-to-earth in its plainness, making it one of the easiest of his films to get into for newcomers. He leaves out some of the visual bluster of his other works and instead tells the story with slight camera movements and little trickery in the editing process. The results are fresh and distinctive. The characters are the focus here and La Strada is more a mythology passed down through the ages and less an exercise in neorealist film style. The plot is straightforward too, unlike many neorealist films.

La Strada picked up the Academy Award for Best Foreign Film. Fellini would win that Oscar three more times with Nights of Cabiria, 8 ½, and Amarcord. All of those films are excellent in their own way, but La Strada is perhaps the only film of the four Oscar winners that delivers the moral compass of its characters in such a reflective and simplistic way. After its release, the Catholics were all over La Strada and endorsed it because of its apparent proclamation of faith. Conversely, Marxists and others were all over it because they had assumed that Fellini had “sold out.” But here was a simple story about a woman in the face of brutishness. Additional meaning comes from within the viewer, not inevitably from within the film itself.

With most films of this nature and, to an extent, with most films in general, there is an inclination to perform scrupulous examinations of the material to find veiled meanings and infinitesimal details. The study of film is an interesting one, but sometimes the study of film can prove to strip away meaning rather than add more. After reading meticulous extrapolations of meaning about La Strada and after considering the film, its performances, and Fellini’s direction, I still reach the conclusion that it is a simple story with heart and simplicity at its core. It is also an exceptionally gorgeous and poignant motion picture that should be seen by anyone with an interest in Fellini or wonderful movies.

10/10

Rear Window

Hitchcock’s 1954 classic Rear Window is often considered one of his very best. Based on Cornell Woolrich’s short story It Had to be Murder, Rear Window is a wonderfully crafted suspense thriller. It won four Academy Awards, including Best Director, Best Screenplay for John Michael Hayes, Best Cinematography, and Best Sound Recording. In 1997, the film was selected for preservation by the National Film Registry and ranks at #14 on AFI’s 100 Years…100 Thrills list. It is also one of the most critically acclaimed films of all time and ranks at #14 on IMBD.com’s Top 250.

James Stewart stars as L.B. “Jeff” Jefferies, a professional photographer who is laid up in his Greenwich Village apartment after an accident that left him with his leg broken. Suffering from boredom, Jeff begins to spy a little on his neighbours through his window. The neighbourhood appears normal, as various people are going about their business. Hitchcock’s direction keys in on this point beautifully, as we never leave Jeff’s apartment viewpoint and always see things through his eyes. His neighbours become as interesting to us as they are to him. We share his obsession and, through the magic of the movies, we share in his life.

Jeff has two regular visitors to his apartment: Nurse Stella (Thelma Ritter) and his fiancée Lisa Fremont (Grace Kelly). Thelma Ritter is great as the nurse, getting all of the great lines and gifted with a wit of ice and iron. She predicts trouble for Jeff’s spying ways. Kelly’s Fremont is a rich young woman who is madly in love with Jeff. Jeff feels out of her league, however, and can’t wrap his head around the fact that she loves him so dearly. Soon enough, Lisa beings to feel a kinship with Jeff, possibly for the first time, as the pair share in the lives of those in the neighbourhood through Jeff’s rear window.

Eventually, Jeff begins to notice a strange series of events coming from an apartment across the way. A man, Thorwald (Raymond Burr), with a wife who spends all day in bed making life miserable starts to act strangely. One day, the wife is gone and Jeff begins to think the unthinkable. Suspecting that a murder has taken place, Jeff and Lisa begin to look for clues. Together with Stella, the group’s suspicions lead them to some pretty dangerous places and conclusions arrive naturally. Because we see things how Jeff sees things, the process is unique and innate, giving the audience a share in the experience rather than just an observational seat.

One of the more interesting things about Rear Window is how the relationships in the community parallel the relationship between Jeff and Lisa. For one thing, the relationship between Thorwald and his wife is a direct inversion of the relationship between Jeff and Lisa. Lisa takes care of Jeff, while Thorwald takes care of his invalid wife. The newlywed couple represent idealism at the start of a relationship, but as the shades are pulled up after days of lovemaking, arguments take place. This represents Jeff’s fear with Lisa, as he fears the “nagging wife” ideal and the notion of being tied down. Jeff also dreads an uneventful life, which is likely the idea that leads Lisa to become so invested in Jeff’s little mystery of the murdering neighbour.

Jimmy Stewart, who has appeared in four Hitchcock films, is always an interesting choice to play these sorts of roles. I consider him to be a bit of a Tom Hanks-type actor, as he is generally well-liked and perhaps more noted for characters we like. Yet in the fantasy sequences in It’s a Wonderful Life, there was a glimmer of darkness in Stewart. Hitchcock grabbed hold of that darkness and exploited it, turning Stewart into the ultimately believable character he plays in Rear Window. This is an important transformation because Jeff isn’t particularly a moralist or a do-gooder, as he might have been had any other director made this movie. Instead, Jeff is absorbed as a passive individual who often does not act and often forgets how.

It’s this nature that makes Grace Kelly the ideal opposite and the ideal counterpart. She is graceful; he is sweaty. She is dressed in fine gowns that cost thousands of dollars; Jeff is bumming around in tawdry pyjamas. She is elegant and refined; he appears a little rough around the edges. Their relationship functions as well as it could, seeing as how the pair appears to have little to nothing in common. Yet the effort that Lisa makes in the film is heartbreaking at times and the idea that Jeff almost barely realizes it until moments of danger seems pitch perfect for a Hitchcock character.

The tension in Rear Window is astounding and far exceeds all modern incarnations of suspense. As we watch various characters becoming trapped in ugly or dangerous situations, we cringe, we jump, we even sweat a little like Jeff sweats. It’s all a part of one of the most organic experiences ever put to the film. With Hitchcock’s masterful suspense, it’s really all about the build, the rush, and the foreplay. Rear Window is a stunning piece of filmmaking and arguably the best thriller of all time.

10/10

Trailer:

Brigadoon

1954’s musical-comedy Brigadoon is a film adaptation of the Broadway musical hit. It stars legendary song and dance man Gene Kelly as Tommy Albright, a man with a belief in love that transcends where his life is. Brigadoon also features Van Johnson as Albright’s hunting partner, Jeff Douglas, and Cyd Charisse as the love interest, Fiona Campbell.

The film opens with two American hunters on a trip in Scotland. It doesn’t take long before they are lost in the woods and they come across a small village that isn’t on any map. The people in the village live as if they were still two hundred years in the past, causing great confusion on behalf of Douglas and Albright. Albright, nearly immediately, becomes smitten with Fiona despite having a significant relationship back home in New York. As the plot unfolds, the secret of the town becomes apparent and Albright has a choice to make.

The film is packed with song and dance numbers, some of which are very lively and colorful while others are more subtle and subdued. The songs are quite good, but several of them were cut from the original Broadway production due to a combination of time and a lack of confidence in Gene Kelly’s vocal performances. What resulted on screen was passable, but much of it was uninspired.

The colors and creative set design stand out in the film. The preference of the production staff on Brigadoon was to have much of it shot on location, but the budget for the film lacked and was poured into other areas on the MGM schedule, leaving Brigadoon with a minimal budget. With this, the set design appears to look quite luminous and almost epic in nature. This is especially notable when one considers the ease at which CGI takes the place of backdrops and other film elements in today’s films.

Much of the film is a convoluted mess, unfortunately. While the dance numbers and the music is pleasant, the plot is utterly confusing and perplexing, especially in the revelation of the big secret about Brigadoon. Of course, we likely have the Broadway production to blame for the flimsy plot, but the film does not better in trying to make heads or tails out of the conundrum. The audience is left to simply turn the brain off, despite a seeming desire of the picture to be a lot smarter than it actually is.

The performances are good enough, but many of the Scottish accents flip-flop from time to time and really feel elementally forced even for the most basic of acting talents. The whole film lacks any effort or heart, especially when compared to some of Gene Kelly’s other films. It is passable, however, and is a decent piece of entertainment if only to revel in the sing-songy nature of Brigadoon and the impressive set design created on a minimal budget.

5/10