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

Podcasts and More at InSession Film!

 

We've delved into some Alfred Hitchcock discourse recently at InSession Film, both in writing and on the new Women InSession Podcast with my fellow female critics Zita Short, Amy Thomasson, and Erica Richards! 😱

Hitchcock in the 1930s

Two Great, Two Ho-hum Hitchcock

Episode 7: Hitchcock in the 30s and 40s

Episode 8: Hitchock in the 1950s

Women InSession Ep9: @vampfamwriter, @Zita_Short and @athomasson11 discuss Alfred Hitchcock in the late 1950's and his films of the 1960's!

Listen now! --> https://t.co/gd11SLuDWc#PodNation #PodernFamily pic.twitter.com/Tztglc3irt

— InSession Film (@InSessionFilm) September 23, 2022

You can follow all my of work at InSession Film on my Author Page or listen to previous episodes of Women InSession! 

New Happenings at InSession Film!

 

If you've been reading our classic film reviews and actor countdowns moonlighting at InSession Film, you may have heard about the new Women InSession film podcast including Yours Truly alongside my fellow female film critics at InSession! 🙋‍♀️

You can listen to the First Three Episodes of Women InSession wherever you hear your favorite podcasts. This opening trilogy is a bit of a Classic Film dive:

Women InSession Episode 1: Our Top 3 Classics with @Zita Short

Women InSession Episode 2: George Stevens and A Place in the Sun with @ZitaShort and @Amy Thomasson

Women InSession Episode 3: Westerns from a Feminine Perspective with @ZitaShort

We have a fun, new announcement! Beginning this week we have a new podcast to add to the InSession Film family, led by @thereforereview @Zita_Short @filmswithamy @athomasson11 @ShadanLarki and @eRockReviews! pic.twitter.com/w8JzcdDObG

— InSession Film (@InSessionFilm) July 20, 2022

Look for our next Women InSession podcast episodes chatting about everything from Titanic and Kate Winslet to Alfred Hitchcock! Don't forget to read some of our Classic Film essays, too:

An Ingrid Bergman Potluck

A Fun Jane Seymour Trio

Larger than Life Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton Pictures

Stay up to date on the latest from us at InSession Film on Twitter! 🎬

Brooding Victorians and Moody Costume Dramas

Brooding Victorians and Moody Costume Dramas

by Kristin Battestella

Well, the title pretty much says it all. If you're looking for angst, frocks, pathos, or British accents, settle in for these windswept period pieces and literary flavorings.

Jane Eyre – Lace, candles, bonnets, frills, and waist coasts open this eleven episode 1983 adaptation starring Zelah Clarke (Dombey & Son) and Timothy Dalton (The Living Daylights). The print is flat now and the production values hampered, however the attention to detail accents the gloomy manor house and its cruel family, abusive isolation, and rare comfort in books. Supposed problem child Jane is passed along to a terrible school where the punishment only increases because of her defiance in the face of starvation, illness, fatal friends, and instruments of correction. Often excised scenes are here word for word, and the very British glum and decorum may be boring for some before the warmth and comfort found in the governess position at Thornfield Hall. Kindly housekeepers and friendly chats let Jane express herself, but locked rooms, ghostly echoes, and whispers of the peculiar master build ominous before an enigmatic roadside encounter with a handsome stranger. Aren't all Jane Eyres identified by their Rochesters? Dalton's brooding suave is very much what we think of in a Rochester – smoldering and easily flustered by Jane in debates over tea where dialogue and performance are primary. He's used to having his way but this lowly governess won't buckle despite the unresolved sexual tension before there was even UST. Jane isn't exceptional but won't yield on her convictions, earning a begrudging respect from the melancholy Rochester, who can confide in her about reluctant gentry matches and superiority versus equality. He admires Jane's purity and would seek to reform through her, wearing his heart on his sleeve even as his secrets would corrupt her. Sinister violence and mysterious accidents make happiness too good to be true alongside beds set on fire, fascinating dualities on character and wickedness, and wild versus saintly symbolism. Jealous resentments dampen pleasant outdoor scenes, turning charming one on one banter into angry, looming, and yearning repression. Rochester is not the silent type, and the scene chewing in many ways has to speak for both characters and draw out do gooder Jane. In spite of the deathbed confessions, age differences, be on your guard warnings, and symbolic white veils torn in two – talk about red flags, girl – we're here for it hook, line, and sinker, swept up in the impediments at the altar, scary attic scenes, bitter revelations, and fleeing into the moors to forgo love and be true to oneself. Seriously though, what is St. John's problem anyway? While this is a wonderful story, the finale does rely on sudden relatives and coincidental fortunes, and I for one was always disappointing something more spooky wasn't afoot. Late episodes away from Thornfield drag thanks to odd scenes without first person narrator Jane and this is a little too long to marathon all at once, but this unabashedly takes its time to assure a complete adaptation. I love the 2011 version for its compact, more gothic spirit; however this is delightful for fans of the cast, period piece audiences, classroom comparisons, and Bronte lovers.

The Man Who Invented Christmas – Dan Stevens (Downton Abbey) stars as Charles Dickens alongside Christopher Plummer (Somewhere in Time) and Jonathan Pryce (Hysteria) in this whimsical 2017 account on what really happened during the 1843 writing of A Christmas Carol. Our successful author has toured America to much fanfare, but Dickens is ready to get back to work despite unforthcoming publishers thanks to the poor sales of Barnaby Rudge, negative Martin Chuzzlewit reviews, and gasp – writer's block. It's expensive being a London gentleman when the wife is redecorating, bills are mounting, and everyone wants a donation from the exhausted Dickens, who has no creativity and a deadline to meet. Fancy garb, carriages, quills, candles, and humorous crescendos create charm alongside entertaining children with fairy tales and holiday mentions of veils being lifted as spirits roam between worlds. Grim alleys, dark cemeteries, bitter mourners, snobby friends wishing the poor would die, and humbug revelations inspire Dickens to write about a vile money maker learning the err of his ways thanks to sprites and spiritual intervention. Unfortunately, there wasn't a market for Christmas books back then and no profit in such a minor holiday. Going it alone, Dickens bounces about his bower mimicking voices – because if your find the character's name, he will appear. Similar to Miss Potter, Dickens transcribes Carol quotes from bemusing encounters with the famous characters entering his chamber. Scenes we know and love are acted out before him until an abrupt “That's as far as I've gotten” halt while the players add their opinions on the tale whether he wants them to or not. After starting well, begging for money and mooching relatives slow the spirited possibilities, and we shouldn't leave Dickens' breakthrough once the wonderful frenzy happens. There are hints of darker Dickens aspects, but his debtors fears and realistic problems feel shoehorned in once the fanciful comes to life. It's tough to have the author mirror Scrooge with contrived overnight changes and revelations about Dickens' terrible childhood when we know his life story and anything truly heavy is off limits. Problems are created just for a third act resolution, and one on one confrontations with his father regarding Dickens' lingering shame and brokenness are more powerful. The source here is a non-fiction book, but the film is obviously fiction, and viewers know Dickens had success before and will again. Maybe the real world Victorian issues are meant to parallel the Carol constructs, however the narrative can be uneven, interrupting arguments about killing off characters while they wait about his room or repeating his struggle over what of himself to put on the page before wondering what the point of a story is if there is no hope. After all the forgiveness discourse, a quick postscript with newfangled Christmas trees says everything turned out just fine – although writers today seeing Dickens' need to self publish and inability to get a $300 loan know circumstances haven't really changed amirite? This isn't necessarily a Christmas movie, and the family friendly fantasy may be too much for those seeking a hardcore Dickens biography. Some audiences may be sly to the author within his own story gimmick, too. Fortunately, there's enough charm in the wholesome nuggets and inventive twists on the familiar tale, and I'd also here for Plummer playing Scrooge en masse yes please.

The Turn of the Screw – Downton Abbey alum Michelle Dockery joins Dan Stevens (again) and Nicola Walker (MI-5) in this ninety minute 2009 BBC adaptation of the Henry James askew moving the repressed ambiguity to 1921 institutions with post war doctors analyzing our governess' infatuation with her employer, the topsy turvy male shortage, and of kilter Bly Manor. Fashions, hats, sweet automobiles, fine woodwork, and hefty antiques sell the refreshing setting, however the nonsensical strobe flashes look amateur on top of the time wasting, disjointed doctoring add-ons and unnecessary narration. Visions of dalliances that initially upgrade the Victorian scandalous soon hit the viewer over the head one too many times as the governess imagines her master and his saucy approval. She insists she's not the nervous type, but the dark interiors, maze like staircases, and distorted camera angles add to the strange noises and creepy country manor unease. She's in charge, above housekeepers and maids, but there are too many flighty women doing all the work in this house. Parasols and summer white contrast eerie fog and trains as her boy charge is expelled from school without explanation. The cheeky children whisper about their previous, pretty governess – unbothered by screams, accidents, or dying maids. Melancholy piano music, graveyard echoes, dark figures amid the trees, and faces in the window build on the female isolation, yet all insist there are no ghosts – surely she's just hysterical, overwrought, and obsessed with men. Rumors of suicide and a woman ruined by her lover seem proved by hidden pictures of the master's up to no good valet, and tales of his violence among the unprotected women are better than seeing suspect flashbacks. The prim style degrades to loose hair and nightgowns as our governess jumps to dire conclusions and possessive delirium, but the shouting about it afterward with her doctor interruptions break the tainted picnics and frantic tension. We don't need his sounding board to deduce her fears, just let us see the abusive violence and water perils. Crazy laughter and disembodied voices escalate as the phantoms, repression, and projection possibilities culminate in a one on one battle for the truth. The deviations here are flawed, and while the horror lite is fine for gothic period piece fans, some viewers will expect more than the have it both ways attempt at the ghosts and crazy ambiguity. This isn't the best version but thanks to the cast and unique setting, it can be a good introduction for audiences who haven't seen The Innocents.

A Disappointment

Under Capricorn – Ingrid Bergman (Anastasia) and Joseph Cotten (Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte) star in this overlong 1949 mystery from director Alfred Hitchcock (The Birds) with an opening narration filling in the Colonial Australia history and past Ireland secrets before 1831 governors, stiff upper lip politicking, and wooden exposition. Who has money, who's related to whom, who's doing the land deals – it's all clunky and yawn worthy on top of a period setting perhaps obscure for American audiences then and now. Colorful waistcoats, cravats, and frocks alongside muddy frontier streets and carriages attempt an early Victorian meets Wild West tone, but the shrunken heads rolling at their feet is more awkward then shocking. Hitchcock attempts new techniques here in his second Technicolor film – long takes, zooms, and tracking cameras following the players in scene. Unfortunately, the direction is stilted, moving from men talking to other men talking about what the other men just said. The first fifteen minutes of convicts turned businessmen and conversations while bathing in a barrel could have been excised, opening instead with the newly arrived scoundrel eavesdropping on a suspect dinner at the creepy manor house. Iron-fisted housekeepers, beaten staff, and disobedient convicts add to the drinks, whispers, social shunnings, and an intriguingly absent wife – who has some history with the new man in town. So much time is spent talking about the past at the expense of the present, yet people readily drop all their secrets and explain their life stories to folks they've just met. A few sentimental winks and smiles bolster the love story elements, however it's awkward to see Bergman both lighting up the room as well as playing the drunken barefoot and wobbling sickly. Uncharismatic, strong chinned men, swelling crescendos, and fainting women combine for all the things audiences bemoan about period pieces, and the supposedly scandalous love triangles remain undynamic. A stable boy eloping with the master's daughter and killing her brother in the process while the maid secretly poisons the wife would make for an interesting tale, but most of that action is told after the fact rather than shown. The tiara ensemble and divine ball make for the one exceptional, uninterrupted sequence capturing all the guilt and performance lacking in the rest of the film. Despite horse chases, who really shot whom revelations, and deportation threats; the drama never seems to happen before the abrupt happy ending. One can see what Hitchcock is trying to attempt with characters bound to the visual frame as well as their inescapable history. Unfortunately, calling attention to the drama with the camera only shows how thin the story is. Even if viewers leave any Master of Suspense expectations aside and like romantic period yarns, this is really only for the Hitchcock and Bergman completists.

Top Ten: Hitchcock!

Welcome to our new Top Tens series in celebration of I Think, Therefore I Review's Tenth Anniversary! These monthly lists will highlight special themes and topics from our extensive archive of reviews.

This time I Think, Therefore I Review presents in chronological order...

Our Top Ten Alfred Hitchcock Reviews!

The 39 Steps

Rebecca

Suspicion

Spellbound

Lifeboat

Strangers on a Train

I Confess

The Wrong Man

Psycho

The Birds

Please see our Alfred Hitchcock and Horror tags for more suspense or visit our Classics label for more of our critiques thus far!

I Think, Therefore I Review began as the blog home for previously published reviews and reprinted critiques by horror author Kristin Battestella. Naturally older articles linked here may be out of date and codes or formatting may be broken. Please excuse any errors and remember our Top Tens will generally only include films, shows, books, or music previously reviewed at I Think, Therefore I Review. 

 

Gothic Ladies and Noir Thrillers!

Gothic Ladies and Noir Thrillers

by Kristin Battestella

Be it medieval, Victorian, then-contemporary, foreign or domestic, these black and white mid-century Gothic thrillers deliver all the deliciously delightful femme fatales, moody noir dangers, and suspenseful scares.

Fear – Hypnotic credits, eerie music, and spooky headlights give way to more classic cars and Ingrid Bergman dolled up in sophisticated business suits, brooches, and furs for this 1954 black and white noir. Although the opening narration explains the illicit with an expected melodrama and this tale can be confusing with its spoken Italian, English subtitles, and German setting; the voiceover feels unnecessary. We see Bergman's guilt via her ripping up love letters, escalating fears, and nasty arguments. Her superb tearful phone calls and the silent suspense scenes let the viewer enjoy the downward spiral – this once progressive wife who does the driving and runs their laboratory post-war just can't handle the scandalous. Mrs. Wagner says she has nothing to lose, but drop the scoundrel and she still has a career, family, and wealth – in the mid-fifties to boot! There are numerous shots of Bergman coming and going, up and down, or in and out, however these movements keep the audience with her while reflecting the internal hectic and hurried state of mind in the otherwise calm, still settings. Such symbolic action does better than the narration, and car filming both facing fast driving Bergman as she grips the wheel and the crazy twist and turns from her point of view show more angst. Contrasting white rooms and dark figures with stairs or windows breaking the film frame layer the visuals while fun science gizmos, sounds, experiments, and poisons create realistic foreshadowing. Missing toys and absent jewelry accelerate the patience wearing thin amid talks of denial, confessions, shame, love, and disappointment. Our dame can come clean but lies to cover her tracks and argues with both husband and lover instead. This is an interesting subject matter for the real life couple – a bit of life imitating art and at home neorealism from director Roberto Rossellini. Granted, this can feel Hitchcock derivative by recalling the more stylish Spellbound as well as Gaslight. There are some red herrings and an abrupt end to the otherwise swift eighty minutes, too. Fortunately, this remains an interesting psychological examination on external pushes versus internal apprehension while debating two opposite female perceptions. Be it the frazzled classy dame or the smooth dance hall girl, both are being used by high and low men, frequenting hotels, tossing money about, and fooling nobody. Twists and thrills in the final twenty minutes keep the audience hooked for this suspenseful little character study accented by a taboo topic or two.

The Long Hair of Death – The streaming print of this 1964 Italian fifteenth century Karnstein tale starring Barbara Steele (Black Sunday) is a poor quality ninety-four minutes. The English dubbing and volumes are uneven with an innate, drab, unpolishedness and a tough to see dark, choppy bare. Fortunately, ominous music and flickering torches immediately set the Gothic, gray scale castle mood alongside hooded guardsmen, dungeons, secret passages, and witch executions. Chases, cliffside shockers, zooms, and sharp cuts accent the atmospheric winding stairs, shadows, candlelight, and medieval windows as daughters are forced to watch their mother burn at the stake in disturbing, fiery action. The audience is on the wronged women's side thanks to such trials and forced saucy, and generational fears, disobeying sons, and witchy legacies simmer amid plague hysteria, storms, requiem rituals, chanting, and deaths. We don't blame the ladies for their curses and vengeance, and Steele is a lovely anchor as ever with divine hair and costumes. Sadly, the story does drag and at times doesn't seem to know where it is going. Lecherous, manhandling violence against women – who are portrayed as feigning no or liking it rapacious – is unpleasant and plodding relations meander about the castle seeming to change sides as needed while viewers wait for the comeuppance. Crosses and sacrificial motifs, however, add an interesting commentary, as the hypocritical church here is ready to burn the condemned at the stake and bury the supposedly devout whether either is really right or wrong or not. This live-in priest rules the roost with a spiritual quip for everything whichever way the wind blows and uses the plaque superstitions to his own advantage. Grave scenery, creepy resurrections, wicked entries, and fatal switches help this curse come to fruition along with alluring deceptions, poisons, and wild Wicker Man effigies. It might be interesting to see this one updated or at least have this kind of Gothic period piece movie come back in full force, per favore, as some murderous toppers and suspenseful tomb twists keep this turnabout is fair play sweet. 

 

Seance on a Wet Afternoon – Oscar nominated medium Kim Stanley (The Right Stuff) and her husband Richard Attenborough (The Great Escape) star in this moody black and white 1964 British two hours based on the Mark McShane novel. Shadows, candles, weeping ladies in pearls, and whispering circles set the tone immediately alongside classy then contemporary touches such as driving goggles, sidecars, phonographs, and old fashioned, cluttered interiors – it's sixties, but with a faux Victorian mysticism. The lady of the house is domineering, claiming her plans have the blessing to do what needs to be done, yet she wishes she were normal instead of channeling sorrow and makes her weak, complacent husband do the dirty work. Is she crazy or is something paranormal at work? Talk of a mysterious, maybe ghostly, maybe imagined “Arthur,” peep holes, boarded up windows, school bells, and gaslighting actions make the audience take notice. There is a lot of talking set in the few rooms of a creepy, oppressive house, however the unreliable mindset hooks the audience without insulting us. Dangerous drives, escalating music, and camera zooms accent any slip up and or the chance for things go wrong while the editing of a ransom note is almost humorous in its casual word choices and disturbing calculations on this “borrowing” plan. Viewers both understand and like these perpetrators – they are at one strong enough to pull this off yet incredibly vulnerable and taking tremendous risks. However, we are also disgusted by their hospital ruses and psychic ploys even if we feel sorry for the villains, victims, and agree with a rightfully skeptical father and suspicious law enforcement. Tensions escalate along with the crimes – what was once such a perfect plan orchestrated by an unstable wife is now we, we, we intense and ready to snap with the heat showing as sweat on everyone's brow. Layered tours and intercut chases up the nail biting twists as one séance too many might unravel this chance to be famous by solving your own crime. Well acted intensity and warped grief make this taught little thriller perfect for a rainy day.

Uncle Silas – Jean Simmons (Guys and Dolls) is just lovely as an 1845 heiress in this 1947 black and white mystery based on the J. Sheridan Le Fanu novel. While the print looks old and the production itself seems British post-war strapped, there's a green tarnish or mood as if this were nineteenth century footage. Tea and countryside estates carry a grand innocence alongside bonnets, frills, and petticoats – this 16 year old with little girl curls, white gowns, and maids checking for dirty hands still needs a governess. It's a talkative start with a lot of history to address, but these dramatic comforts quickly turn to sullied relations, past scandals, and shocking faces at the window. The Gothic tone increases with rainstorms and stairwell motifs as abrasive teaching montages and harsh French recitations shape a noir-ish, dreamy atmosphere. Wild plumes and contrasting black garb draft a tempting, imposing adulthood with shady folks itching at the reading of the will and creepy singing in the cemetery. Spooky candles, shadowy lanterns, and foreground or background light and dark schemes make the households increasingly darker, and tight zooms fit the melodrama better than the sweeping old fashioned music. Dangerous carriage rides and travel trickery lead to more hazy twists and whirlwind montages not unlike future Bava suave. Cobwebs and locked rooms with crazy surprises sell this change in fortunes despite a predictable middle with a titular move reset, too many surplus characters, and a weaker cast surrounding Simmons. Fortunately, icky cousins, creepy uncles, and inheritance schemes suggesting saucy and abuses rougher than this Bronte veneer invite viewers to read such implications for more wickedness. With the one hour and forty five minute version now available on Amazon Prime, it's surprising this Gothic mystery drama with certainly frightful scenes and discomforting simmer isn't more popular with early horror viewers and Victorian literary fans.

Forties Mysteries and Mayhem Returns!

More Forties Mystery and Mayhem!

By Kristin Battestella

Science run amok, family monsters, mistaken identity, mystery, and murder abounds in these wartime tales inspired by classic literatures and period macabre.  

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – Spencer Tracy (Boys Town), Ingrid Bergman (Casablanca), and Lana Turner (Peyton Place) star in this loose 1941 Robert Louis Stevenson adaptation from director Victor Fleming (Gone with the Wind), itself a remake of the 1931 Fredric March award winner. Though available on DVD sets with its predecessor, the heavy-handed religion good and science bad Hayes Code restrictions here hamper the supposedly scandalous talk of whether the soul is in the realm of science or spirit. The slow, talkative start, dated abstract ideals, and dramatic pacing tell the audience about these radical experiments rather than showing the medical dangers. The design also isn’t as impressive as we might expect, for black and white photography and small set pieces don’t illume all the possible Victorian grandeur. Quick animal testings and laboratory montages represent the science fiction while the up close transformations and intimate camerawork remains on the earnest but out of place Tracy– he ironically looks kind of goofy and doesn’t seem all that different as Hyde. Bergman adds some much needed sassy intrigue, and it’s pleasing to see one normally so demure go from saucy and streetwise to submissive and scared thanks to Hyde. Unfortunately, Turner doesn’t have much to do as the suffering fiancée, and her charming society chaste counter balance isn’t well developed. Escalating violence and bemusing dream sequences of the two women, lotus flowers rising, whipping racing horses, and bottle corks popping do much better with the innuendo. We never get the horror depravity one hopes with this tale thanks to the straightforward presentation and fade to black tame, but it’s nonetheless fun to see just for the classic stars going freaky.

The Invisible Man Returns – Smoky atmosphere, great décor, execution tensions, and reprieve desperation start this 1940 sequel featuring a young Vincent Price as the eponymously afflicted. There’s some confusion in how this plot ties in with the 1933 film but the familial connections are explained soon enough. Objects move by themselves thanks to the invisible tricks and the neat see through effects hold up well along with Scotland Yard investigations, a fun laboratory, innocent romance, and elaborate plans. Animal experiment scenes, however, are bittersweet, and Price’s voice is a bit muffled when under wraps for the fainting ladies. His voice isn’t the raspy smooth, mature sound we love, either, but the invisible science debates and ethical questions amid the escalating violence are intriguing. Why look for a cure when the madness is so much fun? A touch of social commentary, a wronged man, an 80-minute built in ticking clock, and a race for an antidote forgive some bumbling cop work and the cliché, hammy colloquialisms, and there’s a wild, dirty, factory finish. But I’m not going to tell you if we see the young, debonair Vincent, hah! 

The Undying Monster – Great ominous music sets the mood along with family curses, stately but sinister seaside locales, tolling bells, barking dogs, and turn of the 19^th century styles for this 1942 hour. Gas lamps, old time phones, and period laboratories accent the conversational delivery – which isn’t your typical monster exposition. Foreboding uses of shadows and light, up close camera attacks, and wolf howls keep the action moving while a comical older lady, on the case Scotland Yard, and meddling help are smartly utilized. Beware, there is one scene of canine faint, but this leads to intriguing self-aware discussions on the supernatural versus science and ancestral indiscretions like selling one’s soul to the devil. No one wants to believe what’s happening, and as such, the pleasant horror tone takes a backseat to a proactive who done the violence mystery. The ensemble, however, adds well done banter, antagonism, agendas, and evidence. The scares are wisely used as needed, and the time here doesn’t seem so short thanks to a fun action pursuit finish. This is a well put together little eerie, and I sincerely wonder why contemporary horror films just can’t take everything done right here and maximize all the gothic atmosphere and glory.

The Woman in White –The late Eleanor Parker (The Sound of Music) shines amidst the top hats, frilly collars, carriages, white capes, flowing skirts, and asylum escapes in this spooky but alluring 1948 adaptation of the Wilkie Collins novel. Lovely interiors, telescopic effects, camera tricks, black and white photography, and shadowy lighting designs accentuate the titular figure whilst moving candlelight and brimming fog layer the cemeteries and outdoor scenery. The opening and closing narration and tacked on whimsy feel amiss, and there are some hammy characters and melodramatic over acting. However, Parker is doubly charming, and the ill at ease, mistaken identity and family secrets blend well with the budding romantic triangles. A perfectly scheming Sydney Greenstreet (The Maltese Falcon) adds to the suspicions and Agnes Moorehead (Bewitched) drops an intriguing tidbit or two. Granted, several dated plot points may be amusing – a 2-year engagement is considered urgent? A distant relative institutionalized is scandalous? Fortunately, plot twists increase as the mystery, tension, secret passages, and creepy escalates. The audience is forced to pay attention and seek out the subtleties – even if you’re familiar with the story; this version remains fun to watch as all the switcharoos unfold.

One to Skip

The Invisible Woman – Following The Invisible Man Returns, this 1940 double bill is slow to start with anonymous humor and lighthearted talk of money and loveable, hair brained professors. Let’s put an ad in the paper seeking someone who wants to become invisible! The get back at her nasty boss reason for our supposedly so ballsy and beautiful lady applicant – a model aptly named Kitty – is weak, and the invisibility making machine instead of the previous potions is mostly an unexplained MacGuffin. Beyond Wicked Witch of the West Margaret Hamilton and Stooge Shemp Howard, the sassy house staff is annoying and the numerous coming and going people all look the same. Fun laboratories and experiment effects are pleasing along with the softer, melodic scoring. However, the feminine spins seem wasted on scaring off jerks and clothes off or on innuendo. Crooks are after the invisibility machine, there’s somebody named Foghorn, bad Mexican jokes, and the slapstick – eh, I stopped caring and went to clean my tub drain instead. This is harmless fun and dated girl power if you like forties comedy, but it unfortunately doesn’t match the fantastic dilemmas of its predecessors and replaces them with 70 minutes of overlong and loosely tied platitudes.

Anastasia (1956)

Anastasia Remains a Lovely Little Tale

By Kristin Battestella

Granted, we know the fate of the Romanovs was not as hopeful or romantic as the award winning 1956 classic Anastasia makes it out to be – complete with fifties splendor, dashing intrigue, and a whole lot of Cinemascope. However, the what ifs, period charm, and excellent performances here shine nonetheless into the new millennium.

Expatriate Russian General Bounine (Yul Brynner) and his cohorts Petrovin (Sacha Pitoeff) and Chernov (Akim Tamiroff) rescue Anna Koreff (Ingrid Bergman) from the edge of the Seine after her escape from an asylum. Together, the trio intends to capture the inheritance of the rumored to still be alive Grand Duchess Anastasia by presenting an impersonator as the lost survivor. Anna – her past unknown – is likeness enough to the Grand Duchess to proceed, and Bounine educates her to play the part in hopes of impressing the exiled Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna (Helen Hayes). Only her approval of this Anastasia will legitimize Bounine’s claim and release the inheritance. Anna’s memories about who she really is, however, shows signs that she may indeed be the lost Romanov heir – and Bounine is no longer certain of his mercenary intentions once Anastasia’s former betrothed Prince Paul (Ivan Desny) renews his marital pursuit of the would be Grand Duchess.

Based upon Marcelle Maurette’s play about real life Anastasia pretender Anna Anderson, opening scrolls fill in the back-story on the 1917 Revolution and establish the possibility for Anastasia’s Paris 1928 tale from director Anatole Litvak (The Snake Pit) and writers Arthur Laurents (Rope) and Guy Bolton (Easter Parade). Today we’re tainted by knowing how the history actually turned out, however, Anastasia almost makes you believe. The filming is closer to the interwar period than to us in the in 21^st century, further inspiring our suspension of belief and realizations that Grand Duchess or not it may not even really matter who Anna is. From the proverbial princess training to the limited time window of acceptance, Anastasia tells its story in fine progression but doesn’t give the audience everything. Contemporary spoon fed viewers may not like this opportunity to make up their own minds, and when viewing as kids in the eighties, my sister and I always argued as to whether she isn’t or isn’t the titular Grand Duchess. I’m still not so sure we have a definitive answer, yet the nuanced performances, subtle style, and romantic possibilities make for ongoing rewatchability in spite of the real world facts.  

Sure, the tender old ladies and the swelling music accenting their believing will be overly sentimental for some; perhaps too many grumpy old men contest Anastasia just to make a proving point for her. The audience is quickly caught up in each leg of the approve or disprove, however, and thanks to an appropriately regal European cast, we go along with the unforced chemistry. Anna and Bounine have a rocky start and different motives, but scenes with them shouting at each other from opposite rooms are a headstrong treat. The camera remains focused on the common living room with their open doors on either side, and the wit is allowed to blossom with a play within a play wink. This is, after all, an actress hired for the role, people are pretending to endorse her, and when is their show really over? Anastasia’s conclusion may upset some with its was she or wasn’t she, but this is perhaps one of the most memorable classic film endings. It’s totally fitting and could not have been done any other way.  

Is Anna Koreff merely sick after an asylum stay or delusion that she is the Grand Duchess Anastasia? Ingrid Bergman (Casablanca) makes us care regardless of the truth. Anna’s on the run mentality and flight from authorities is understandably based in the fear of what she doesn’t know and can’t remember. Whether she is a princess or not, this is a troubled woman needing redemption. Her desolate wandering Paris scenes may feel fifties overdone, but they are also stunning snapshots of the time and visually represent her on the edge state of mind. Does Anna latch onto Anastasia’s story and tell so many lies that she believes this identity is true? Mixed uses of both “I” and “she” keep the sense of self in crisis, and Bergman is able to be small, meager, and confused like this woman trapped in her little girl in the cellar nightmare. The wavering between Anna’s supposed train accident and the trauma of the Grand Duchess Anastasia becomes a tormenting inner conflict always brimming at the surface. She coughs, hunches over in longtime illness and burdens, yet Berman has some bemusement at the ruse as her class and grace shine and Anna blossoms into confident, regal poise. Will this act heal Anna or will she cut her puppet strings and ruin their inheritance plot? It’s a bittersweet performance from Bergman, as it is both melancholy on the past yet hopeful on the possibilities of a fresh start. Will Anna find her new life as a princess or as a woman in love – and which does she really want?

Now then, not only was he not even nominated for The Ten Commandments, but Yul Brynner never would have won an Oscar for playing the notorious lead villain Ramses II – though I confess I’ve always preferred him to the heroic Charlton Heston! Likewise, he was never going to win anything for Anastasia after the Academy politics already relented and quote forgave Ingrid Bergman for her perceived scandals and rightly awarded her the Best Actress Oscar. Brynner, of course, did ultimately win Best Actor for The King and I, which was perhaps graciously awarded more for his already longstanding history with the character on stage than for the actual movie musical. I would however like to think his Oscar trophy was awarded for this stunning sum trio of 1956 films, as in my mind, General Bounine in Anastasia is Brynner’s best performance. Initially, Bounine seeks to capitalize on the Grand Duchess returned and collect her lost inheritance and takes pride in this subterfuge. Bounine is fast-talking and claims he’s putting on no pressure and wants you to make up your own mind, yet at the same time, he tells you exactly what you are going to think. Anna’s cleverness, clues, and what ifs, unfortunately, do better than he expected, and Bounine’s thought of everything except the possibility of her really being Anastasia. Is this the wrong woman or just the right one pulling the rug out from under his plans? Bounine has faith in nothing but himself and wants a passable fake, yet he goes on his own journey of self-discovery by falling in love with his charge. Brynner sings and plays guitar in Anastasia as well, bringing a sentimental Old World feeling to Bounine. The General would perhaps have things as they were or thinks more of his lost country than he admits, and with such a mix of hardened and romantic, Bounine is not an easy character to pull off. Fortunately, Brynner presents a surprisingly stern but warm company to match Bergman. Who’s really discovering whom in their charade? Simply put a paragraph too late, I don’t think anyone else could have played this part so wonderfully.

Adding to the Imperial poise in Anastasia is the beautifully refined and much lauded Helen Hayes (A Farewell to Arms) as the exiled Dowager Empress. She’s a dolled up little dame, but also an old lady hanging on to this past grandeur – one who’s lost everything but her acerbic wit. The poor thing is understandably crabby after facing all these pretenders and now a “madwoman with a royal obsession,” but she puts down Bounine and sees right thru him even when he won’t say what’s on his mind. Are he and this pretender using her personal tragedy for vulgar reasons as she says? Can the Dowager Empress open herself to believing she may just yet have her granddaughter returned to her? “Wanting a dream doesn’t make it come true,” she says, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t hoping this is the one. It’s a darling performance by Hayes, yet the sappy isn’t without some sass or humor thanks to the banter with Martita Hunt (Brides of Dracula) as the Dowager’s goofy lady-in-waiting Baroness Livenbaum. I love it when the Empress tells the Baroness that for a woman her age, her fantasies of Bounine are disgusting! Likewise, Akim Tamiroff (For Whom the Bell Tolls) and Sacha Pitoeff (Is Paris Burning) are largely for the brevity and questioning of Bounine’s scheme early on in Anastasia. Ivan Desny (Bon Voyage!) as Prince Paul is also a fictitious character designed for romantic conflict – he’s charmed by the eponymous lady whether she is or isn’t his once lost and former intended. Paul unabashedly admits that women and money are certainly worth all this trouble, and though Desny can’t stand up to Brynner, the prince makes an interesting mercenary counterpoint to Bounine in Anastasia’s final act. And say hey, there’s Natalie Schafer – Mrs. Howe on Gilligan’s Island!

Colorful reds, velvets, Old World objects, and cluttered apartments also accent Anastasia with a bittersweet Russian flavoring while a somber Oscar nominated score from Alfred Newman (State Fair) remains classical and period sweeping. Can I get a cheer for that crank record player, too? Though some of the twenties via fifties looks may be inaccurate, there’s a real sense of lost splendor in the Orthodox Easter opening and concluding ballroom ceremonies. The old cars, hats, cigarettes, and time capsule Paris and Copenhagen locales also look divine along with white frocks, sweeping staircases, and onscreen orchestras touting Tchaikovsky. Subtitles will be necessary to catch all the tough to hear Russian names or now less common upscale French phrases, but this whiff off pre-war Edwardian manners and even earlier Victorian pomp and protocol re-imagined as mid century can’t quite be recreated today. Ironically, the DVD menus are surprisingly plain with no music or crafty designs; however, a brief restoration comparison and an old school Biography episode on the real life Anastasia provide film and real world history balance. Though dated, it’s fantastic to compare the grainy black and white photographs and archive footage of the Romanovs against the vivid fifties grandeur just seen – perfect for the historian or classroom to discuss. Now, someone please tell me there are plans for a 60^th Anniversary blu-ray edition coming soon!

Anastasia waxes nostalgic with exiled royals reminiscing on what was supposedly so splendid a time and this might anger viewers who think differently today. Luckily, the charm of the tale, style of the film, and excellent performances win out against any lingering politics or sense of aristocratic mood. In fact, compared to the tragically identified bodies accounted for nearly 100 years later, Anastasia may be even more revered now as a time capsule of past hopes and romantic escape. The Dowager Empress says she can smell the mothballs but the past remains “sweet and familiar.” Somehow, the film’s self-aware Gone with the Wind reflection and celebration of former luxury still let’s you choose which tale you’d rather believe. Fans of history, period dramas, classic film, and powerhouse performances can delight in the always entertaining and charismatic Anastasia.

More 1970s Horror

70s Horror Classics. Again.

By Kristin Battestella

More and more, I am finding myself watching and enjoying more horror and mayhem produced in that shiny, glittery, and be-bell bottomed decade of the 1970s. Here’s a small sampling of our latest late night seventies viewings, because it was ten years with a lot of onscreen scares, shocks, scandals, and sophistication.

Blood on Satan’s Claw –We Americans would call the shaggy hair, peasant costumes, and poor candlelit interiors of this 1970 British scare fest “Colonial.” Great screams, sound effects, and music accent the off-camera frights and country crazies. There are plenty of spooky locales, too; lonely wooden houses and ruined cathedrals out on foggy, overrun and empty greens. Dark, intimate, and up-close photography smartly keeps the villagers’ fear, not the titular hand, as the focus- and it is scary.  Yes, the dialogue scenes in between the scares might be slow, confusing, or tough to understand for some, and having had a horror proper cast would have been nice, too.  Fortunately, the steady reveal, religion versus demons tug and pull, and nasty sexual overtones up the horror ante.  The rapaciousness is not for the faint audience, but the evil temptations, nudity, and demented 17^th century teens aren’t there for the titillation as in today films. Obviously, witchcraft is painted as the devil worship of the day, and this will be an offensive movie for some. However, fans of the genre will enjoy the instrumental, heavy, intense, and hairy finale- literally!

Dracula vs Frankenstein –  Good blood, scary zooms, carnival crazy, scientist mayhem, and cool laboratory works with flashing gizmos and vintage radical machines accent this 1971 swansong for both Lon Chaney Jr. (The Wolf Man) and J. Carrol Naish (Sahara).  It’s pleasing to see Chaney’s silent, big, and scary henchman. He’s used and sympathetic in contrast to the no less intriguing but vengeful and wheelchair bound Nash as Frankenstein. Forrest J Ackerman (The Howling) has a fun appearance, and the crazy credits are a good time, too.  There’s enough homage and sentiment here to keep the bright seventies setting entertaining, although the bizarre UFO-esque sound effects music is too dated. The Vegas singing montages- perhaps to somehow capitalize on the Hello Dolly trend- are also weird, and the hectic, glossed over attention on hipness doesn’t serve this tale well. Regina Carol (Black Heat) is also kind of bad, but she’s not given much guidance from director/her man Al Adamson (Blood of Dracula’s Castle). I’m also not sure about Zandor Vorkov (Brain of Blood) debuting this strange look to Dracula; a young guy made to look, well, kind of like Vincent Price as Dr. Phibes!  The echoing voice effect too tries too hard, and the zooms punctuating the end of his sentence….err no. The disjointed mix of dumb happy summer of love interferes with the fine old school demented monster plots, and the finale melts down to drinking game viewing. Thankfully, it’s all fun, but Sweet Jesus, is the boyfriend upset because he spent $1 on gas? One Dollar.  Pfft!

House of Shadows – There’s not much information on this 1976 Spanish murder mystery starring Yvonne De Carlo (The Munsters) and John Gavin (Psycho). I mean, no Wikipedia page, gasp, the horror!  The stormy scenery, eerie music and sound effects, spooky décor, colorful period costumes, decrepit haunted house vibes, and past luxuries gone awry are all gothic and moody enough- and most importantly, they help disguise the somewhat bemusing English dubbing.  The dialogue seems more like the tone of an audio book than you know, acting.  De Carlo is lovely as always, but it’s weird that she is also dubbed. Something’s lost when we don’t hear her sultry voice, and this contributes to some of the awkward or confusing and slower scenes. Some of the values here are also just too dark to see. Thankfully, a few unexpected scares and deadly twists accentuate the initial mystery, subsequent murders, amateur investigation, and spectacle séances. Yes, this is hampered by some poor post- production. Is it hokey like a telenovela thanks to the dubbed dialogue? For sure. Is it classic? Maybe not.  Nonetheless, there’s a fine little story here for an audience to enjoy solving, and it’s worth a look.  

Murder on the Orient Express – Yes, yes. This 1974 Agatha Christie adaptation starring Albert Finney, Lauren Bacall, Ingrid Bergman, Anthony Perkins, Jacqueline Basset, Sean Connery, Michael York, Vanessa Redgrave, Richard Widmark, John Gielgud, Everyone, and Your Grandmother isn’t really a horror film as we know it. Nonetheless it is dang suspenseful and entertaining with great thirties Art Deco design, tunes, and cars. There’s European and Asian flair, mixed languages, and lots of visual joys and dangers of trains that perhaps some today can’t appreciate. Likewise, director Sidney Lumet’s (Dog Day Afternoon) hectic in a good way pace won’t be for everyone. Some today may find conversational beats too talkative instead of action, but the unwrapping of the crime is pleasing and intelligent, a step above all those other all-star seventies disaster pictures. The suspenseful flashbacks and sudden edits reveal the case with lovely procedures, clues, suspense, and stunning performances.  The whole family can spend an evening guessing with this one or a sophisticated Halloween party might enjoy the debate. Perhaps it’s all old hat to those familiar with Christie or the story, but this one’s delightful for new viewers looking for something beyond Clue.

Night Gallery – Growing up, I really enjoyed watching this 1970-73 Rod Serling follow up to The Twilight Zone. Unfortunately, there is a lot of distaste and confusion surrounding these unloved episodes- from being butchered initially, and then chopped further in syndication, and recently its difficult road to DVD.  All that aside; some of these episodes are damn decent creepy, with Serling’s sense of morbid, demented inspirations from the likes of H.P. Lovecraft, and solid guest players such as Vincent Price, Joan Crawford, Adam West, Leslie Nielson, and more.  “The Housekeeper,” “The House,” “The Doll,” “Lone Survivor,” “The Boy Who Predicted Earthquakes,”  “A Death in the Family,” “Silent Snow, Secret Snow,” and “The Dark Boy” are but a few examples of the quality here.  Due to the behind the scenes troubles, is Night Gallery a step down from The Twilight Zone? Yes.  Is it nonetheless worth a place in your scary viewing marathon? Absolutely.