Revisionist Almanac 1956 Guest Podcast

 

It's very exciting to be part of other podcast ventures and appearances! After taking part in The Revisionist Almanac Let's Get Spooky Collab last year, it was my turn to take part in The Almanac's 1956 episode. See and Hear as at long last I rectified the award wrongs for The Searchers!

Thank you Andrew for inviting me to take part! With all the terrible things happening recently, it's a comfort to know my voice has meaning – even if it's in a tiny capacity talking about the movies we love.

You can also pick up some @RevAlmanac swag, but my cat photobombed my show and tell attempt! 

Follow our Podcast tag for more and revisit previous guest appearances:

Greatest Movies of All Time – Ben-Hur

Making Tarantino – House of Dark Shadows and Frankenstein Must be Destroyed

The Lone Screenplay Nominee – Stand by Me

A Tudor Potluck

A Tudor Potluck

by Kristin Battestella

These miniseries, movies, and documentaries both modern and classic shine the light on Good Queen Bess and company – juicy details, scandals, beheadings, and all.

Elizabeth I – Helen Mirren (The Tempest), Jeremy Irons (High Rise), Toby Jones (Berberian Sound Studio), and Hugh Dancy (Hannibal) star in this acclaimed 2005 two-part HBO co-production. It's 1579 and the unmarried Bess is still without an heir despite the vulnerability of succession, religious strife, and courtiers disliking the overly familiar Earl of Leicester. A symbolic dressing down removes the bejeweled gowns and gilded facade in favor of stays and medical exams saying she's still capable of bearing children – because marriage is for heirs only according to her chancellors. Affectionate bedside chats let the viewer in with the woman behind the throne as she remains outwardly bemused and unfettered by the marital talk but inwardly bored with her council questioning when she is allowed to think or feel anything for herself. Chamberlains are aware of the coming and goings between the bedroom back stairs, and the men look the right mature with swords, capes, and plumes. Despite assassination attempts, dungeons, the rack, and slightly small sets; the golds, rich reds, detailed woodwork, candles, lovely window light, and bright courtyards create an intimate warmth. The camera flows with the movements from room to room – crossing the fine line between private woman and public chambers. Jealous Bess can't marry the earl she wants, courtiers go behind her back, and there are few people to trust amid awkward French courtships, boat rides, and disguises. Of course certain elements are familiar to the well versed Tudor audience, yet the made under Mirren shines with Elizabeth's impressive personality, dancing charm, and lovable infectiousness. It's ironic, however, that everyone says she is so beautiful in obvious flattery, and The Queen is rightfully annoyed when one and all push against her happiness – doubling her heartbreak after falling through proposals. Leicester thinks too highly of his position, yet she will not suffer fools no matter how disappointed. Elizabeth chops off the hand of a writer for his protesting pamphlet, and her chancellors prefer that made of stone rule who does what they tell her, caring not whether she wants a child or to be loved. Surprise meetings with Mary of Scots provide great woman to woman conversation, for only these two ladies can completely understand such an impasse before Dutch aide, conspiracy letters, and executions. After all, women can't be the gentle sex because they know more cruelty. Brutal flayings, quartering alive, and Latin prayers create intensity, however this drama relies less on the lavishness of other melodramatic productions and more on the politics of words and intrigue in the interplay. The first hour alone is dense, award worthy television taking the crown deeper with humility, personal frank, and religious war often spoken in same breath. There's a delicate balance between letting privy men influence her and showing them who's anointed queen. Bess honors the army for their love and sacrifice rather than courage as a king would, but she rises to the armada occasion with famous speeches as the off camera battle sharpens the personal poignant. By 1589, Elizabeth has a slightly pathetic crush on the Earl of Essex, and her elder pure white make up contrasts the womanly undressing that started Part 1. Mirrors are banished and jousts are more about courtiers and spectators whispering on who's in The Queen's favor. Bess watches the men spar, dresses a leg wound, and has some symbolic ankle saucy – she knows its foolish to be desired when she can't show her love. The Queen won't stay in the bedroom but goes to her council where she can whip the men into shape with her leadership. She's not afraid to lash out and show her anger but does threaten the witnesses to her outrage with death. Can one enjoy her royal company or is it all using each other for more influence? Rumors of poison, finger pointing accusations, and false evidence help the not so suave Essex move above his station. New love triangles, deaths, and secret meetings with James VI accelerate Irish discord, divided opinions, and would be rebellions – but it's nothing an arrest or graphic beheading can't fix. While this series doesn't feature all her favorites or serve as a total later reign biography, the focus on such two related loves shows how Bess may have bent from time to time but never totally yields. The Queen goes from romantic tears to Royal We, placing public devotion over self with surreal color and camerawork combining for a graceful denouement.

Henry VII: The Winter King – Author Thomas Penn hosts this 2013 documentary hour chronicling the somewhat obscure – compared to the Richard III infamy before and head rolling Henry VIII after – but no less ruthless, paranoid, dark, and oppressive reign of Henry VII. From the 1485 Millford Haven landing to gaining support for an unlikely victory at Bosworth Field, onscreen text dates and places the previous Wars of the Roses with the Earl of Richmond's precarious claim to the throne through illegitimate Beauforts and a strategic marriage to Elizabeth of York. On location Bosworth prayers, Westminster Abbey art, Hampton Court comparisons, and Parliament archives detail the coronation and dynastic struggles through medieval scrolls, period paintings, music texts, and genealogical rolls. Henry feared he'd loose the crown the way he got it, but shrewd legislation and assuring his lineage help quell any rebellions and eliminate rivals to the throne. Visits to the Medieval Coin Collection at the British Museum present vintage gold pieces stamped with the Tudor rose – despite extensive architecture projects and increasing wealth, Henry used spies to root out corrupt chamberlains and previous allies bankrolling York revivals. The king himself was vigilant with his own financial books and privy accounts, and surviving documents reveal standard payments for falcons from Hungary as well as rewards from some undercover espionage. By the turn of the century, there was little resistance to his tight, underhanded grip thanks to new engagements with Spain, however fatal family illnesses and Elizabeth's death in childbirth cause the distrustful Henry to retreat before cracking down with more building splendor, ruling with fear rather than love thanks to extortion fines and financial ruin making it too costly for anyone to usurp him. Henry's controversial Council Learned in the Law covertly circumvents any legalese with prison sentences, rigged juries, and intimated judges, but threats from Suffolk and dangerous jousts take a toll on his health. Period depictions show Henry VII's deathbed transition – which was kept secret for two days while courtiers cleaned up the regime's loose ends with trumped up executions of unlikable chancellors, allowing young seventeen year old Henry VIII to issue kinder reform. Henry VII's reign was a rocky but necessary road assuring a new English dynasty; his architectural achievements still stand, and this tour fittingly concludes at his grand mausoleum silently beside his tomb. Although the booming music and night time scenery plays at something sinister, the moody here remains scholarly before flashy, keeping this friendly for the classroom or the more learned Tudor audience.

A Stuart Bonus!

Mary Queen of Scots: The Red Queen – Scottish castles, ruinous abbeys, and highland scenery anchor this 2014 documentary on that other devout catholic Mary thorn in protestant Elizabeth's side. The narration admits the similar names are confusing, but the voiceover meanders with unnecessary time on Mary's parents James V and his french wife Mary of Guise amid Henry VIII marital turmoil, perilous successions, and religious switches. Opera arias interfere further as we stray into Mary Mary quite contrary rhymes, earlier Robert the Bruce connections, Tudor rivalries, French alliances, and the possible poisoning of infant Stuart sons before finally getting to Mary being crowned at nine months old in defiance of male inheritance laws. Rough Wooing tensions and early betrothal plans with Edward VI lead to isolation at Stirling Castle before a pleasant childhood at the French court, but a princess education and marriage to the Dauphin in 1558 ultimately send the young widow back to Scotland as regent in 1561. Catholic unrest always leaves Mary on unfriendly terms with Bess alongside John Knox reformations at home, misogynist rhetoric, and a nasty marriage to her first cousin Henry Stuart. The need for an heir, murdered lovers, adulterous pregnancies, revenge – loyal nobles take sides as the Catholic baptism of the future James VI divides public opinion. Men with syphilis, suspicious gunpowder accidents, marital traps, and final meetings with her year old son begat possible kidnappings, a new marriage to the Earl of Bothwell, revolts, imprisonment at Loch Leven, abdication, and rumors of stillborn twins with unknown fathers. It might have been interesting to see scholars contrasting bad girl Mary with her marriages and male interference versus Elizabeth The Virgin Queen rather than the all over the place narrative. Bess holds Mary captive in various English castles for eighteen years until religious coups, forged letters, an absentee trial, and the final treasonous Babington Plot. Mary goes out in style with symbolic red despite her botched beheading, with an ironic final resting place at Westminster Abbey beside Mary Tudor and Elizabeth I. This rambling hour confuses itself and repeats anecdotes in what should have been a tighter, more informative focus. However, such superficial storyteller basics can actually be a good classroom compliment with additional materials.

But A Surprising Skip

Young Bess – Charles Laughton (reprising his role from The Private life of Henry VIII), Deborah Kerr (From Here to Eternity), and Stewart Granger (Caesar and Cleopatra) join the eponymous Jean Simmons (Guys and Dolls) for this romanticized 1953 tale featuring pomp scoring, medieval title cards, fine castle interiors, Tudor hoods, colorful frocks, royal feasts, and bitter beheadings. Unfortunately, annoying, over the top support recounts the already familiar Anne Boleyn exit and repeated new wife introductions in an out of place Mother Goose style narration. The bemusing, petulant little girl whimsy is at odds with the serious chopping block drama, and the defiant teen Bess rolls over once Thomas Seymour sweeps in to subdue her. Now, not only was the older Granger married to the supple Simmons, but he also had an affair with Kerr – who plays his wife onscreen. History would also describe Thomas Seymour's relationship with the young Elizabeth as not exactly healthy to say the least, and it's uncomfortably odd to see such a great, shrewd queen reduced to a stubborn, moon-eyed princess. Can you imagine the uproar today if a historic abusive relationship was depicted as a romance orchestrated by the victim? o_O Bess makes her stepfather jealous of her Danish marriage proposals by kissing Barnaby the whipping boy before getting slapped by her Admiral Uncle Dad Tom, which she loves! Soft glow cameras on the ladies are likewise so fuzzy that the picture looks blurry to HD accustomed eyes. The sets are small, outdoor scenes and matte shots are obvious fakery, brief naval scenes and hokey armor are almost humorous, and the villainous Lord Protector is apparent thanks to his greasy mustache. Henry's larger than life whims and death bed sincere make up for the slow start and the bright, colorful dance scene is the best part of the film – yet for something supposedly about Bess, the focus strays with arguing councilors and ambitious relations. An entire segment is narrated by the typically mid century little brother King Edward, transitioning from his intended as humorous wish that his uncle would “D-Y-E” to inquests and solemn betrayals. Meandering character motivations add to the inaccuracies, the behind the scenes relationships muddle with what's onscreen, and the of its time artistic license feels embarrassing to the well versed Tudor viewer. Simmons gives a lovely performance, and audiences who love classic melodrama can enjoy this. However, it's tough to suspense belief with this kind of blind fiction.

From Here to Eternity

From Here to Eternity as Awesome as Awesome Gets, Period.

By Kristin Battestella

Everyone has seen that snip of the waves crashing over Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster in their steamy beach bound lip lock from this 1953 Hawaiian military epic. The shot’s famous, the film’s a bonafide classic, and yet there is so much more to From Here to Eternity.

After injuring a friend in the ring, bugler Private Robert E. Lee Prewitt (Montgomery Clift) won’t box for his new CO, Captain Holmes (Philip Ober) in the upcoming tournament.  Sergeant Warden (Lancaster) tries to get the stubborn Prewitt to see reason and even puts him on extra detail rather than see Prewitt punished by Holmes.  Unfortunately, Warden has his own hang ups- namely that affair with Holmes’ wife Karen (Kerr) - who pressures Warden to seek a commission.  Prewitt and his friend Maggio (Frank Sinatra) try to take the army life easy by visiting the New Congress Club for drinks and girls, and Prewitt makes plans with Lorene (Donna Reed).  Maggio, however, runs into trouble with the stockade sergeant, Fatso Judson (Ernest Borgnine). Jealously, vengeance, pride, and romance eventually collide as the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor commences.

I feel like I’m going to ramble.  What can I say about From Here to Eternity that hasn’t already been said?  Then again, this isn’t nearly enough analysisizing over Best Director winner Fred Zinnermann’s (High Noon, A Man for All Seasons) adaptation of  James Jones’ then scandalous novel and Daniel Taradash’s (Don’t Bother to Knock) Best Adapted Screenplay, either.  Multiple viewings are indeed necessary to fully appreciate and properly study all the great dialogue, complex characters, Oscar winning cinematography, and star-studded performances. Maybe the melodrama will seem tame to some today, but From Here to Eternity still offers plenty of Pearl Harbor heavy.  I simply love this movie and have to tune in whenever it is on television. A viewer thinks he knows it line by line and can just leave it on the tele in the background. But no, the torment, romance, toughness, and intensity call you to the screen.  Is it over the top by today’s standards? Perhaps- but the fifties flair and form works for the archetype characters. For better or worse, these are these characters’ shining moments. From Here to Eternity’s journey is in seeing which player will burn out, fade away, win, or survive- and we’re not even talking about World War II yet!  Strategically placed couples and intimate photography match the suggestive relationships while balancing nicely with wider shots and the foreboding historical background. The focus here is on the little people and the Oscar winning editing mirrors the personal taboos of the time perfectly.  The camera sweeps down with Lancaster as he kneels to kiss Kerr and brings a long focus as Clift takes slow drags on a smoldering cigarette after going to the upstairs parlor with Lorene.  Audiences know what’s happening, and I actually find it pleasing that we can take the hint. Today’s films would be dominated by the raunchy base lifestyle and TnA brothel action. There’s an element of class amid the scandal here.  Life sucks, America’s not the best of the best can’t always deal- and yet From Here to Eternity shows it all in style.

If From Here to Eternity has a fault, it is that both its Best Actor nominees cancelled each other out in favor of William Holden in Stalag 17.  Holden is good, very good; perhaps it is indeed his best. Sixty years later, however, our boys look decidedly robbed. Future Oscar winner Burt Lancaster (Elmer Gantry) is just wonderful as the stiff all business sergeant who keeps the men in line while his jerky captain seeks glory. Lancaster looks good as Warden- acrobat fit, natural in uniform, and shirtless for his fans. He looks tough and cold hearted yet has a soft spot for his company- not to mention a brimming passion for his CO’s wife. Warden knows how to handle the hard, worn, and broken of the army, and we like him for it.  Somehow, we like him even more when he loosens up his prison alluding name and button up attitude to go after the wrong woman. He’s the last man we’d expect to get caught up with another man’s wife- the seemingly used and denied pencil pusher who cleans up his captain’s messes because he wants the company to remain a well oiled machine. Yet Warden’s a hunk of sergeant so overdue some leeway loving and getting drunk- which Lancaster and Clift really did, by the way!  What’s proper? What’s respectable? Since we know Pearl Harbor looms, these people don’t have time to worry about morality, do they? From Here to Eternity gives us wonderfully flawed and multi dimensional characters.

Rather than an acting rivalry, Warden and Private Prewitt have an unusual rapport, even a friendship as far as enlisted men and NCOs can have. In this, Montgomery Clift (Red River, A Place in the Sun) is equally awesome to Lancaster and just as beautiful.  Clift embodies Prewitt like no one’s business- complete with a slender uniform and a chip on his shoulder.  Any man who wants to know how to act should watch Clift here. Prew is a military man through and through- he just refuses to simply do and die and not reason why. He loves his bugle but won’t to back down to pressure to join the boxing team- even if it means continued hazing and difficulty on the base.  Principles onscreen and off are such a lost art! Clift exudes the straight back uniform style, the contrasting slouched and ruined hunch of an AWOL tropical shirt, and all the range of emotion and torment in between.  So what if the boxing scenes are hokey.  The idea of not wanting to box after blinding a friend may seem cliché to contemporary audiences, but Clift sells the pain perfectly, as if it is an integral part of who Prewitt is. The punishments he receives may just seem merely asinine, yes- today’s films would frontload this kind of plot point with unwatchable brutality before despicable character focus. Nonetheless, Clift plays the anger as fundamental, with no separation between himself and Prewitt.  Sure, he had his off screen troubles, but the viewer never thinks Clift is angry or playing himself, no.  Prewitt’s turmoil is simply so seamless- the music, the boxing, the love and loss. This is a completely three dimensional character thanks to Clift.

Perhaps I gloat over Clift, but I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I don’t like Deborah Kerr.  Fortunately, The Innocents, The King and I, and From Here to Eternity create a trio of her best.  Kerr doesn’t look the expected English pretty in tight sweaters and short shorts, and all those wet dialogue references up the innuendo.  Karen has been around the block- and a base or two- for all the wrong reasons, and yet we don’t blame her.  She’s a fast woman carrying plenty of pent up issues, but she struts her stuff and knows how to shake those hips. We see her coming and yet the audience can sympathize with this wasted and wronged captain’s wife. This affair can’t end well- the would be scandal, Pearl Harbor is imminent, Warden doesn’t want to be an officer and Karen won’t marry an enlisted man.  It isn’t good and yet these people need some happiness, dreams, and all the misery that comes along with love. Although she went home with the Best Supporting Actress Oscar, I’m still not so sure Donna Reed was the right choice for the prostitute Lorene.  She’s great and has the acting chops to turn our It’s a Wonderful Life and Donna Reed Show expectations, yes. However, you can’t quite forget this “It’s Donna Reed! As a prostitute!” feeling. Fortunately, Reed does match Clift’s charm, and together they develop a tender but broken kind of chemistry and bitterness.  Do they love each other? Without a doubt. Will the military action behind the scenes and on the battle lines eat them alive? Definitely. 

 

Surprising, the one who exceeds expectations in From Here to Eternity is revitalized crooner Frank Sinatra (The Manchurian Candidate and my personal favorite Robin and the 7 Hoods) as the loyal friend who cracks under the ruthlessness of the late Ernest Borgnine’s Fatso. The ill-fated best friend is the very definition of a supporting character, and Maggio is simply classic for that final scene alone.  He lifts, inspires, and sets Prewitt’s actions into motion for the final third of the film. Today’s speculation about Mafia involvement in his casting and debate about his Oscar win unfortunately seem to overshadow his actual performance, but Sinatra is worth another look here. Perhaps also a stereotypically styled villain, Borgnine (Marty, McHale’s Navy) is nevertheless an imposing, multi dimensional figure both in stature and in performance. He’s gritty, wicked, and we immediately hate that people like him get ahead while honest soldiers like Maggio are chewed up and spit out.  But oiy, it must have been tough for him with all that wop talk! Philip Ober (North by Northwest) is despicably love to hate worthy as Dynamite Holmes, too.

Despite winning awards for its black and white cinematography, I can’t help but wonder what From Here to Eternity would look like in full fifties color and splendor.  The onscreen forties styles and accessories, those swanky parlors, lovely palm trees, and handsome starch uniforms in all their glory! Not that I condone colorization by any means, and besides, this film is not about dazzling visuals and little else like the 2001 Michael Bay stinking spectacle Pearl Harbor.  The battle finale here is sweet though; and the real military locations and authentic drilling, equipment, and protocols give us the wartime vibe needed.  Bittersweet bugle tributes, fun piano music, period swing and aloha sounds also do wonders- along with “Re-enlistment Blues.”  Even the cigarettes in From Here to Eternity shine. The way our players hold them and their shot glasses or brush their hair- most young stars and ‘celebrities’ today simply cannot ‘act’ like this.  They can’t embody the tense mood, atmosphere, pressure, and grace tying From Here to Eternity in a pretty bow.

Simply put (a thousand words too late!) this film is a must see. Maybe you don’t like Best Picture hardware laden classics or any of the cast. Perhaps you don’t like wartime films or have no interested in seeing a film of acting, direction, and cinematic perfection.  Too bad. You can’t be a fan of dramatic cinema and movies themselves without having seen From Here to Eternity. So why wait?

The Innocents

The Innocents Not an Innocent Old Film

By Kristin Battestella

So my honey and I are having weekend horror movie marathons leading up to Halloween. Alone at 2 a.m., I discovered The Innocents on television. I’m not a Deborah Kerr fan, but I put The King And I aside for this scary 1961 adaptation of Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw.

 

Shocker of shockers, Kerr stars as young Miss Giddens, the new governess to a boy named Miles (Martin Stephens) and his sister Flora (Pamela Franklin). Their Uncle (Michael Redgrave) is always away on business and Miss Giddens is left in charge of the massive family estate, the children, and several servants. Stalwart maid Mrs. Grose (Meg Jenkins) is tight lipped about the previous butler Quint (Peter Wyngarde) but his iron fist is still felt in the household. Soon Miles acts out, and Miss Giddens sees Quint and the previous young governess Miss Jessel (Clytie Jessop) about the estate-though both died mysteriously the year before.

Kerr’s stuck up British Lady roles in films like The Grass is Greener and An Affair To Remember have always put me off, but here Kerr turns the persona into a voice of reason for her down spiraling charges-or so it seems. They say never act with children or dogs, but the pint size actors in The Innocents do well. Director Jack Clayton’s production is thoroughly British, and the children’s accents are very strong. The language twists, however, helps the atmosphere. People often find accents attractive, so when Quint finally appears to Kerr and the audience, we already know something about him; Strict, formal, yet rugged and alluring; the perfect mix of naughty and nice for a butler who is abusive in life and death.

 

I’ve been very tempted to read The Turn of the Screw since viewing The Innocents again. I love two other adaptations, 1994’s The Turn of The Screw starring Julian Sands and Patsy Kensit, and but of course, Dark Shadows introduced Quentin Collins as their spin on the possessive ghost Quint. As Quentin terrorized on Dark Shadows, Quint haunts and slowly takes over the children. The Innocents is black and white, so Clayton makes the most of every shadow and lighting trick in the book for Quint’s creeps. Fading light and darkness, blurry imagery, entire sequences of Kerr in the dark or only with a candle add to the spooks and gothic drama. Today’s films are so jammed packed with special effects, but sometimes being unable to see is best. Hearing what you can not see, the disorientation it creates; in the darkest scenes, Clayton turns up the ghost sounds, laughter, and storms. We’re as confused as Miss Giddens. You can’t see, but you know, or rather, you speculate with your own fear. This makes The Innocents down right creepy.

It may jar modern folks, but The Innocents uses the old fashioned extreme close up shot for another spooky layer. Instead of giving us some smoke and mirrors or jumpy photography, the camera is on Kerr, Quint, or the kids. The infinite possibilities and expressions of the human face far out way any sill effect that would not stand the test of time. When a person watches another person in fear, pain, or anguish, we can’t help but be drawn in-hooked and wanting to help. Likewise we recoil at Quint’s evil and edgy face. Still close ups of Kerr listening to the wind, her hair blowing ever so lightly-it’s all the ghostly hints one needs.

 

Good old time horror fans no doubt already enjoy The Innocents, but I recommend it for all classic buffs. Fans of other slightly kinky gothic films like Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights will enjoy The Innocents. Victorian era fans will love the styling, too- even though you can see Kerr and those big hoop skirts in color elsewhere. If you can get them to sit still for a black and white picture, even kids might like The Innocents. There’s nothing overtly scary, sexual, or offensive for today’s wise tweens. And hey, they might learn a lesson about what happens to seemingly bad kids!

 

One point of concern for The Innocents is the ending. I don’t get it. Kerr and Martin Stephen’s performances are fine, but the film ends very abruptly. Intelligent audiences may be confused or enjoy the questions raised. The book of course, offers plenty of ambiguity as well. I won’t spoil anything by sharing my thoughts, oh no. Still, I would have liked five more minutes of resolution instead of a potentially unsatisfactory conclusion, but The Innocents is worth the view for spook fans. Indeed, multiple viewings to enjoy the subtleties are in order. Sure you may chuckle at a few old fashioned or Brit things, but once you’re into the film, you’re hooked. Look for The Innocents on dvd or catch a sample on television this Halloween.