Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte

Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte a Delicious Gothic Treat

by Kristin Battestella

Director and producer Richard Aldrich capitalized on Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? with the chilling but no less sophisticated Southern Gothic examination of murder, gossip, and madness in 1964's Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte.

After Charlotte Hollis' (Bette Davis) father Big Sam (Victor Buono) insists she break off her dalliance with the married John Mayhew (Bruce Dern), Charlotte enters the cotillion covered in blood. Decades later, Charlotte remains an infamous murderess and recluse, living alone save for housekeeper Velma Cruther (Agnes Moorehead). The state of Louisiana plans to tear down the crumbling Hollis House to build a bridge, and with Doctor Drew Bayliss' (Joseph Cotten) help, cousin Miriam Deering (Olivia de Havilland) returns to convince Charlotte she must leave. Unfortunately, ghostly violence terrorizes the women, blurring past crimes, contemporary suspicions, and deadly delusions.

Happening jazz, dancing, and 1927 good times hide the illicit schemes, secret elopements, and vicious murder opening Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte. We think we've seen a cold hearted kill thanks to intercut chopping, gruesome slices, and screams, but is this crime all it seems? Wind chimes and silent shocks lead to 1964 cemeteries and youthful rhymes detailing the chop chop legend of headless lovers as boys sneak in the desolate ballroom ruined by passion, scandal, and insanity. Construction vehicles rumble nearby, yet there's a certain gentility to the venomous shouts. Everyone says miss or sir, using full names and regional colloquialisms despite the ten day eviction notice, paranoid conspiracies, suspicious old enemies, and secrets coming back to haunt one and all. Talk of an innocent teen girl having a dirty affair with a married man and calling each other bitches was shocking dialogue at the time, but there are also regrets, tears, and wishful thinking of an inheritance that should have been well spent instead of wasted on the lonely, dilapidated decades. The dramatically paced conversations are layered with talk of the past, current states of mind, double entendres, and shade – creating zingers and story telling comforts before wardrobes that open by themselves, slashed clothing, crank letters, and unforgiving threats quicken the pulse. Creaking doors, cleavers, and severed limbs scare the women – our eponymous character may be a little mad, but others are experiencing the frights, too. Crimes of Passion magazine reporters are excited that now in the sixties they can play up the murder's sex angle, and there's no one to trust amid phantom figures strolling the grounds and ghostly harpsichord playing. Storms, lightning, and winds blowing across the balcony lead to breaking windows and shattered mirrors. Today we have crazy versus ghost horrors, but they are often teen light rather than sophisticated dramas with performances free to carry the murderous motives behind the frights. Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte provides superb scenes with heavyweight talent, and revelations in the final act place the viewer within the footsteps, physical bouts, and shocking violence. The southern gentility degrades into cruel intensity as the sense of dread escalates without any need for in your face jump scares. Deaths we've seen happen are said to have happened entirely differently, and the women do what has to be done thanks to the men's messes – be he builder, destroyer, father, doctor, or lover. Beckoning echoes and tormenting serenades are twisted, sad, and delicious all at once thanks to eerie masks, gunshots, headless suitors, and nightmares. Delusions revisit the original crime while chilling visuals, bitch slaps, and dead bodies rolled up in the carpet contribute to the hysteria. These dames won't suffer for the lies, blackmail, and cruelty anymore, but the can't take it with you and what was it all for pain serves up a few more frights before the madness is all said and done.

Is Bette Davis' (All About Eve) Charlotte a crazy killer, abused, or just misunderstood? She's mad one minute pushing planters off the balcony at construction workers but demure in white, crying, and heartbroken the next. Charlotte's an unreliable old woman dealing with trespassers and losing her home. She doesn't need sympathy or company, just help in saving Hollis House. At times she is very sharp, but she's also caught in the moment of her lover's murder, dressed up and waiting for a dead beau. She knows the townsfolk think she got away with murder, however the audience likes her moxie. We're on her side when the sheriff insists she only acts loony because it's what's expected of her, and we pity Charlotte's sobbing sing a longs to their song. She wakes up in the night, for her fantasies are only real in the dark – Charlotte used to be positive she wasn't crazy, but now she isn't so sure thanks to ghostly visions, medication, and nightly damaged she swears she didn't do. Mad murderess or not, she is certainly scared, and the family pride, fatal disgrace, gossip, and the irony of letting go make for a sad vindication. Olivia de Havilland's (The Heiress) cousin Miriam Deering tries to make it easier for Charlotte to leave, reminiscing and sharing fond memories of sliding down the banister. She makes Charlotte laugh, telling her not to pay any attention to trash rags, old rivals, or nasty letters but come back to reality. Unfortunately, Miriam can't stop the state's eviction, and she's always looking out for herself first. Charlotte says her public relations job “sounds dirty,” and past tattle tales on who was the poor relation or favored daughter make Miriam wish she had never come back. Nonetheless, she increasingly takes over the household, packing and making Charlotte say goodbye to Hollis House whether she is ready or not.

According to Joseph Cotten's (Duel in the Sun) Dr. Drew Bayliss, Charlotte has nothing more than a persecution complex. He insists the state's condemned order is solely about the bridge construction and not Charlotte's infamy – although he has looked into committing her but doesn't have enough evidence. Drew calls himself an old man who missed out, regretting choosing his career and breaking off his past romance with Miriam. She, however, insists he's too quick with his compliments and intentions. He flirts with her as he did in their youth, preying upon her even as he wants to protect her – giving her a handgun in case there are any more trespassers. Unfortunately, only more memories of the past come back, and Drew wonders if Charlotte isn't creating her own company and reliving her debutante days with newly fixed delusions. Surprisingly, only Agnes Moorehead (The Bat) as loyal housekeeper and sassy defender Velma Cruther received hardware for her performance in Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte – a shiny Best supporting Actress Golden Globe contrasting her crusty, cranky self. Velma dislikes Miriam, mocking her before sulking behind a column and muttering comebacks between her chores. Although initially humorous, Velma isn't stupid. She tries phoning for help and confronts Miriam outright when told she's being dismissed with the month's wages. Velma only takes her orders from Charlotte, and the imminent tearing down of Hollis House does not mean she won't be needed when the manor's gone. Velma sees through Miriam's high and mighty behavior in several taut confrontations that become scrumptiously physical. Certainly there are a few superfluous characters – utility players dispensing exposition yet detracting from the taught hysteria, but Mary Astor (The Maltese Falcon) makes the most of her brief time as Jewel Mayhew, the widow of Charlotte's mutilated lover. Although Charlotte suspects Jewel is out to get her, she's not afraid to tell Miriam and her vicious tongue off in public. Jewel is gravely ill and ready for the truth to be heard. Victor Buono (King Tut in Batman, people!) mostly appears in the prologue as Charlotte's stern father Big Sam, but his threatening presence lingers throughout the film. He disapproves of some lothario like the married Bruce Dern (The 'burbs) intending to elope with Charlotte and ruin the family legacy he has rebuilt – and his orchestrations ironically cause exactly what he was trying to prevent in memorializing the Hollis name. Unfortunately, George Kennedy (Earthquake) appears too briefly as the foreman ready to bulldoze the manor standing in the way of his bridge project. He's tried being kind to Charlotte and objects to her shooting at his crew. It might have been interesting to have seen him appear more as a physical reminder of the ten day requisitions countdown, for at times the need to vacate for the tear down is almost forgotten in Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte's crazy horrors.

Art Direction, Cinematography, and Editing nominations abound for Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte thanks to excellent gray scale schemes, symbolic shadows, scary silhouettes, and askew camera angles that remain sharp on 4K screens. Overhead visuals peer into the scene with our point of view in tight for the harsh, angry faces or panning wide to capture the empty, stage-like mansion interiors. Choice zooms, distorted up shots, and foreboding down angles accent the spinning ceiling fans – we feel the congested southern heat despite breezy lace curtains, open windows, wispy willows, and dangling moss. Trees and balconies are high, but Hollis House is dimly lit with few candles at the dinner table and dark strolls on the veranda leaving room for those disturbing severed heads, phantom hands, and great horror effects. The expansive locales mean every scene takes its time, laid back with people made small in the Louisiana inside out lifestyle. There's no rush to walk down the long corridors as mishaps belie the grand staircase and grandfather clocks tick tock. Barking dogs and silent pauses add to the atmosphere alongside the nominated Score with its angry crescendos, sad melodies, and bittersweet lyrics. Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte has ye olde big newspapers with thick headlines, flashbulb cameras, and $2.50 for a cab drive after which he's told to keep the change! There's a firmly sixties mood thanks to the big cruising cars, hats, gloves, white suits, and cigarettes – however the grandeur is also trapped in time with tall columns, wallpaper, tea in the garden, chandeliers, telegrams, leather libraries, and looming large family portraits. And bench car seats mean we see some good old fashioned slide across!

Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte has always seemed a little less beloved than it's exceptional predecessor Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? and video options remain slightly elusive thanks to unavailability on Netlix and a limited edition blu-ray. Some audiences may find the psycho biddy style too camp – at times there's certainly over the top inducing laughter to the scary. At two hours and fifteen minutes, Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte may also be too long and not all out horror enough for viewers accustomed to contemporary, formulaic slashers. For others there may not be full rewatch value once one knows how it ends, but Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte is worth repeat viewings for all the graceful clues and nuances amid the Southern Gothic terror – remaining a gripping, can't look away master class of chilling moments and staple performances.

Thriller: Season 1

Boris Karloff’s Thriller Debuts with Spooky Quality

by Kristin Battestella

Oft bespectacled and mustachioed horror guru Boris Karloff came to the small screen in 1960 as host of Thriller, and though uneven to start, the black and white anthology series’ 37-episode Season One debut packs a wallop of suspense, drama, and scares.

Businessman with a stalker Leslie Nielson (The Naked Gun) is the first of many guest stars on Thriller in “The Twisted Image.” The implied vices, family secrets, violent subtext, and domineering dames may not be anything we haven't seen before, yet we know the suspicion, schemes, and opportunist desperation can’t end well. Then scandalous topics and saucy literary sources give Thriller a mature tone, and blackmail, wills, and murder keep the sly, vindictive players entertaining to watch. Without the effects of today, Thriller relies on the players and the plot to craft well paced episodes and escalating acts – “The Mark of the Hand” uses flashback recountings, distorted investigations, and non-speaking child witnesses for its suburban scandals and askew twists. Mary Astor (The Maltese Falcon) may be a bit obvious in “Rose’s Last Summer,” but its fun to see how the fading stars, would be comebacks, and alcoholism will play out. Disc Two, however, provides the first whiff of the supernatural on Thriller with “The Purple Room.” Rip Torn (Men in Black) and Richard Anderson (The Six Million Dollar Man) spend the night in the house from Psycho and great atmosphere, isolation, hauntings, and hysteria follow in this deadly, scary tale. “The Prediction” continues the bizarre with Karloff himself doing double duty as host and performing as an aging psychic for play within a play theatrics, deadly intuitions, and crazy Cassandra circumstances. Even though it probably would have meant even less episodes for Thriller, I wish Karloff could have played a macabre part in every show.

Blink and you will miss a very young Mary Tyler Moore alongside Robert Lansing (Star Trek’s Gary Seven) for “The Fatal Impulse,” an intriguing look at mid century bomb plots, politicians, and murder threats complete with a ticking clock and unknown peril. Of course, “The Cheaters” may be Thriller’s most famous episode. From the period piece science and accursed spectacles to an antique mood and desperation, the vignettes here offer a disturbing perspective with props to match. What if one could see another’s true, cruel thoughts – or maybe even our own? It would certainly come in handy over poker! This hour makes for a wild precursor to the spooky antiques of Friday the 13th: The Series. The stars continue on Disc Four with more cobwebs, stormy cliff side locales, and creepy mirrors in “The Hungry Glass.” Kirk himself William Shatner and Gilligan’s Island Professor Russell Johnson add to the atmospheric reflections and what you may or may not see, and the proverbial smoke, mirrors, shadows, and lighting tricks set off this simmering spooky and period panache. Likewise, “The Posioner” is delightfully gothic and operatic thanks to a Jerry Goldsmith score, past waistcoats, paintings, pesky family fortunes, and that suspicious titular tea. The beach bum con artists and rich dames of “Choose a Victim” may be too gullible to be believable; however, kinky swindles and double crossings see it through to the end. Dated witchcraft perceptions may also hinder “Hay-Fork and Bill-Hook,” but eerie chases, Stonehenge accents, and pitchfork imagery keeps this one perfect for Halloween – and look its Batman’s butler Alan Napier! Goldsmith’s music again matches the sacrifice discussion and superstitious ways ala The Wicker Man, and these great supernatural outings just seem to be the better episodes on Thriller.

“The Merriweather File” opens Disc Five with dangerous gas, a deceased child, and dead bodies in the trunk as touchy feely, supposedly friendly lawyers bring subtext and tawdry secrets to light. “The Fingers of Fear” implies more than just child murder to match the quite creepy abductions, sociopathy, and pursuit twists. It’s neat to see how town apprehension, suspicion, evidence, public opinion, and what’s in the newspaper influence the case – especially compared to today. The late Richard Kiel (The Spy Who Loved Me) looms over the “Well of Doom” along with a booming score, roadside terror, and castle evils. Is this a scheme or the supernatural? The picture is too dark at times during the titular dungeon escapes, but the desperation and atmosphere work. Likewise, fun science equipment goes awry for Robert Vaughn (The Magnificent Seven) in “The Ordeal of Dr. Cordell.” Pleasing paranoia, spinning effects, unknown trauma, and dangerous triggers accent the escalating laboratory obsessions and frayed tensions. Oft-Thriller director Ida Lupino (The Hitch-Hiker) helms the anthology within an anthology episode “Trio for Terror” with 1905 English scenery and heaps of chilling mood. In what might have been a neat design for the series, claret sipping Karloff hosts these segments from inside a pub full of shady characters – telling tales of spooky train car companions, creepy wax artifacts, high stakes suspense, tricked out castles, and serial stranglers. Though disjointed, there’s a little bit of everything to fit one’s scary need, and the smaller literary based stories do well over the hour.

Ironic carnival scoring and a killer sideshow atmosphere lead Disc Six in “Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper.” While mid century suits debate the psychology of the killings and analyze ongoing 70-year patterns, scandalous burlesque dames, beatnik artists, bloody pacts, and a morbid shocker or two create a fun take on the Whitechapel theme. “The Devil’s Ticket” continues the sinister with shady pawn shop dealings and a high price on tokens usually not for barter – such as your soul or your painting talent perhaps. Great dialogue talks about the fantastic, “What the devil do you mean?” “Now, now, let’s not mention any names,” whilst also debating the internal struggle of objective and subjective truths, the games we play, and the prices we pay. These topics aren’t as cut and dry as we hope – especially when a love triangle adds to the devilish deadline. Likewise, surprising innuendo matches the captivity and titular derelict of “Parasite Mansion” along with some pre-Texas Chainsaw Massacre backwoods family shenanigans and one creepy cackling old lady. The moody score fits the tense attempts to flee amid cobwebs and maze like interiors while more twists await within the walls and beyond. Ironically, the crime and scandal with a little something sinister in this hour is a well done combination of the mixed suspense and supernatural vision looking for its footing on Thriller.

Child innocence and warm velvety interiors lead to squabbling relatives and a disembodied, ghostly voice to start the lovely “Mr. George.” Inheritance plots and turnabout on those deadly intentions build suspense thanks to swinging camera work and cleverly edited accidents. “The Terror in Teakwood” continues on Thriller's supernatural superior with Hazel Court (The Premature Burial), romantic rivals, Pandora's Box scares, musical desperation, and piano melodies. Similar to the later The Mephisto Waltz, demented pianist talents and deadly compositions get, well, out of hand, as it were. An opening Paris 1910 charm conceals more menacing tricks and hypnosis alongside Marion Ross (Happy Days) in “Prisoner in the Mirror.” Karloff pops in to update the time line changes, and forgotten burials, beautiful not so dead corpses, and internal plays on mirrors, reflections, and doppelgangers create some fine illusions here. Dark shadows and lighting schemes accent the atmosphere, twists, and through the looking glass spins beautifully. Ominous music immediately sets the tone of “Dark Legacy” as fates are decided with occult motifs and the blurred line between magic and sorcery is explored. The rites, rituals, and fake symbols are a little hokey, but smoke and thunder special effects do wonders in upping the misused incantation temptations. Romance becomes insignificance when black magic leads to stage success – or demonic corruption! Concluding Thriller's First Season on Disc Eight are “Pigeons from Hell” and “The Grim Reaper.” Great swamp fog, overgrown ruins, and avian danger amid the ghostly sounds and off camera screams in “Pigeons” make an excellent Southern Gothic mood for the deadly turnabouts, mistaken investigation, and paranormal afoot – and it's all done with one scary set and three players. “Reaper” brings Shatner to Thriller again, this time with Hearst driving Mrs. Howell Natalie Schafer of Gilligan's Island. Ghoulish paintings, kooky authors, trophy husbands, and cursed artwork do superbly for this blend of superstition and suspense. Great shadows, up close editing, and what you don't see scares hit home, and this final stretch of scary and supernatural sends Thriller's debut session out on a high note.

However, despite its title and horror pedigree, the first half of Thriller seems somewhat weak or unsure what direction the series shall take. Scary fans could even skip Disc One on the set altogether, for one expecting all weird or speculative horror will be disappointed in the straight drama and gun play of “Child's Play” or the stereotypical mobsters from “The Guilty Men.” “The Big Blackout,” “Knock Three-One-Two,” and “Man in the Middle” are also redundant in their similar blackmails and crimes against women. Though workable as an hour of dramatic crime and entertainment, Richard Chamberlain’s (The Thorn Birds) small town scandal in “The Watcher” and Cloris Leachman’s (Phyllis) “Girl with a Secret” heist are nothing new and the Moroccan flavors of “Man in the Cage” don’t sparkle as they should. The simmering score in “Late Date” can’t overcome the run of the mill, get rid of the body, beach side violence, and stereotypical Puerto Rico designs, voodoo scares, and non-believing authorities can’t help John Ireland’s (Red River) looking over his shoulder desperation in “Papa Benjamin.” The creative premeditation, literary inspiration, clever weaponry, and fun performances of “A Good Imagination” would have been a neat as the lone bookish murderer among a season of horrors, but since Thriller starts off the other way around, it's just another more of the same amid too many cheats, blackmails, and revenge.

Fortunately, Thriller provides layers of historical and then-contemporary nostalgia. I’ll take a bottle of your best champagne for fifteen bucks! Sweet cars, swanky music, mid century fashions, and period accents create mood or accessories as needed – although one could lose an eye with these bullet bras! There are unfortunate, of the time subservient minorities but thankfully, past prejudices are few across Thriller’s eight discs for Season One. The DVD designs for the Complete Series set are also a lot of spooky fun with spider webs and skull cursors. While there are no subtitles and the sound is often uneven between soft voices and loud effects, numerous episodes across the discs have commentaries, promos, or isolated scores by Jerry Goldsmith along with trailers, photo galleries, and production stills. This video collection is a bit elusive, but Thriller can be found on retro over the air stations like Me-TV and with other streaming options.

Unlike The Twilight Zone, The Outer Limits or even One Step Beyond, Thriller’s first season is not totally paranormal or speculative in nature and can’t really be compared to such anthologies. The show’s division between straight mystery and macabre may split viewers, but overall, Karloff’s outing is more akin to the suspense of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour thanks to these mostly dramatic fifty minute tales. Big Boris himself is of course always suave as host with a fun style and props to his introductions – even if his greetings often read as double talk shoehorning in a titular pun. It’s not the sardonic of Serling or the humor of Hitchcock, but Karloff’s own charming stature is reason enough for some horror fans to tune in for Thriller, so long as you avoid the purely dramatic episodes. Regardless of scary expectations and a rocky start, there are still numerous hours of entertainment, guest stars, and ghastly for mid century television lovers or creepy enthusiasts to enjoy this First Year of Thriller.

The Maltese Falcon (1941)

How Can You Not Love The Maltese Falcon?

By Kristin Battestella

Generally, one should always begin any form of article or essay with an introduction. Unfortunately, this may be my shortest introduction ever-for there’s film noir and then there’s Humphrey Bogart and The Maltese Falcon.

Detective Sam Spade (Bogart) finds himself in plenty of hot water after the death of his investigative partner Miles Archer (Jerome Cowan, Blondie, Miracle on 34th Street). Mrs. Archer (Gladys George) was hoping to leave her husband for Spade anyway, but the lovely and misunderstood Brigid O'Shaughnessy (Mary Astor) traps spade in a search for the legendary Maltese Falcon. Unfortunately, Kaspar Gutman (Sydney Greenstreet) and Joel Cairo (Peter Lorre) are also after the treasured bird. Each offers to buy the statue from Spade, but Lieutenant Dundy (Barton MacLane) and Detective Tom Polhaus (Ward Bond) are sniffing around, too. Will Spade find the Falcon, ditch the coppers, and save the dame?

First time director but longtime screenwriter John Huston (Sergeant York, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, The Asphalt Jungle, The African Queen) helms his own 1941 adaptation of Dashiell Hammett’s novel with mystery, suspense, and all the staples of film noir. At face value, The Maltese Falcon should be stereotypical and obvious- not only does it have one of our most famous detectives, but also the silver screen’s original MacGuffin. However, fine performances and complex mystery twists keep this film above the imitators. The script is witty and tight-we don’t know who to trust yet we like-or love to hate- each of the players involved. The Maltese Falcon is global-with talk of the Orient and historical treasures-yet it’s a relatively talkative piece with not a lot of action. Huston keeps us tugging at our collar with claustrophobic double crossings and high priced, deadly debates. Though confusing to some and a little tough to follow thanks to some old school fast talking, The Maltese Falcon is an intelligent ride that takes every ounce of cat and mouse to tell its tale.

Of his many exceptional films, Humphrey Bogart (The Petrified Forest, Casablanca, The Desperate Hours, The African Queen) some swear by The Maltese Falcon above others. No matter how many times you’ve seen it, Bogart’s infamous Sam Spade walks the walk and talks the talk. He is fast, slick, and just as coy as all the folks meddling in his business. This is not a film to be viewed casually, thanks to Bogart’s complex dialogue, double duty deals, and shear visual presence. We think we know Spade and what he’s going to do, but Bogart keeps us guessing right up to the end. Though a little subservient and ‘in their place’, the dames in The Maltese Falcon add to the spice and mystery. Oscar winner Mary Astor (The Great Lie, The Prisoner of Zenda, Little Women) is perfection as the quintessential femme fatal who wavers between playing the helpless damsel and using her pretty face to get what she wants. Likewise, Gladys George’s (Valiant Is the Word for Carrie, Best Years of Our Lives) Widow Archer would be the typical faux grieving woman in black if it weren’t for her beautiful charm and deceptive grace. Lee Patrick (Topper, Mildred Pierce) is also great fun as the wise secretary who knows how to handle Spade.

The Maltese Falcon is a star-making vehicle there’s no doubt, but the ensemble is also masterful in the onscreen wit and deception. I swear Peter Lorre (Mr. Moto, Casablanca, The Raven) plays the same part in the same style over and over, and yet he’s always so juicy and captivating onscreen. Maybe it’s those Bette Davis eyes or that nasal little voice, but his Joel Cairo is delightful to watch. ‘The Fat Man’ says so much about Sydney Greenstreet (Casablanca, The Flamingo Road) and yet he is so much more. This debuting Supporting Actor nominee would steal the show-if every other performance in The Maltese Falcon wasn’t a scene stealer, too. Ward Bond (Wagon Train, It’s A Wonderful Life, The Searchers, My Darling Clementine, The Quiet Man-somebody stop me!) and Barton MacLane (I Dream of Jeannie) are also delightful as the cops who like Spade, but are also trying to solve two murders. Who is going to best whom-Spade, the cops, the gals, or the ‘Fat Man and Little Boy’?

I must say, The Maltese Falcon isn’t without controversy. The 1931 edition has been edited and censored over the years thanks to clashes with the uptight Hollywood Code, but comparisons between the versions could be a lot of fun. Thankfully, the 1931 version and the 1936 comedy adaptation Satan Met A Lady- are restored and packaged with the 1941 feature on its special 3 Disc Special Edition DVD. If you’re looking for some of the novel’s supposedly scandalous gay subtext, you can find it here. However, to the mature film student or young classic fan, there isn’t anything shocking. No, what’s worse is that The Maltese Falcon has the dubious distinction of a few dastardly colorizations attempts. The horror!

Oh, but for the cigarettes that are real cigarettes, clutches and pillbox hats, the fedoras and the trench coats- any fashionista of post Depression styles will be in heaven watching The Maltese Falcon. The colloquialisms and mannerisms may be dated and stereotypical, yes, but they are also a great freeze frame of the times. Some of the music is also as over the top as the acting, but other times the crescendos are perfectly timed with those moments that make you gasp. Even though we’ve had seventy years to memorize The Maltese Falcon and every other cheap film noir imitation, the clichés aren’t even that bad. Even if we expect something to happen, there’s still plenty of juice in how it’s all going to play out. In this day of constant updates, reboots, and sequels, I’m surprised someone hasn’t attempted to make another big screen The Maltese Falcon. Thankfully, there is one very good reason why this tale hasn’t been done since. The 1941 version of The Maltese Falcon simply can’t be beat.

Classic fans who know the ending of The Maltese Falcon can still enjoy this timeless noir again and again due to critical suspense and fine performance. If you are lucky enough to find someone who is a completely clueless virgin about this film, God bless you as you tie him to a chair and make him watch. Trust me; he will thank you for the experience. Young folks might be deterred by the black and white, sadly, but you can’t be classic film lover or scholar of film without knowing and loving The Maltese Falcon. As the Fat Man says, ‘if you loose a son, it’s possible to get another. But there is only one Maltese Falcon!’

The Prisoner of Zenda (1937)

The Prisoner of Zenda Dated, but Charming Nonetheless.

By Kristin Battestella

Everyone’s probably heard of The Prisoner of Zenda and refers to the 1894 novel by Anthony Hope as a basis for adventure film, video games, and ‘Ruritanian romance’- but have modern audiences even seen any of the film adaptations of The Prisoner of Zenda? I took in an afternoon with the 1937 version to see this gem for myself.

While on vacation in Ruritania, Rudolf Rassendyll (Ronald Colman) meets his distant royal relative, the soon to be King Rudolph V (also Colman). The cousins look exactly alike; and when the wine loving Rudolph is drugged by his vile illegitimate half brother Duke Michael (Raymond Massey, Abe Lincoln in Illinois), Rudolph’s aides Colonel Zapt (C. Aubrey Smith) and Captain Fritz von Tarlenheim (David Niven) convince Rassendyll to take the would-be king’s place. Matters are further complicated, of course, when Rudolph is taken prisoner at his castle in Zenda. Rassendyll must go on as king, and he quickly falls in love with the beautiful Princess Flavia (Madeleine Carroll).

This tale of romance and mistaken identity needs no additional support, but the subtle talk of abdication and modern political intrigue creep into The Prisoner of Zenda, thanks to producer David O. Selznick’s push for this film in light of the abdication and scandal of Edward VIII and Wallace Simpson. Director John Cromwell (Of Human Bondage, Since You Went Away) saves the big action sequences for the finish, and the talk-heavy script may seem slow and dated compared to today’s films. It’s tough to see all the lavishness of the costumes and set in the tone on tone silver screen, but the ornate chairs and adorned uniforms get the look across just fine. The supposedly big scenes seem a little small scale, too; but it’s the tale at heart that wins out in The Prisoner of Zenda. Could you so easily assume a hostile rule? Could you walk away from such power and love?

I have to admit the dual scenes with Coleman (A Tale of Two Cities, A Double Life) as both Rassendyll and the titular prisoner look dang good, without any of the obvious split screen tricks and such. He’s not bad at hamming it us as the drunk regent to be, either. Colman has the proper blend of hesitancy about kingship, romance with the ladies, and action in protecting his duty. Likewise, the loyal C. Aubrey Smith (The Four Feathers, Rebecca, Little Women) and David Niven (The Bishop’s Wife, Around the World in Eighty Days) look and act the proper aristocrats. As a lover of old school film, it’s a shame to think many of the players here lost most of their prime years to decorated service in World War II. It’s sadder still that the gems we do have- like The Prisoner of Zenda- are growing under appreciated seventy years on.

Although he made many fine pictures including Gunga Din and Little Caesar, Douglas Fairbanks Jr. might be less well known to the classic film layman than his famous father. Nevertheless, Young Fairbanks’ Rupert is so bad it’s good. He’s slick, a snake waiting to strike. If anything is more alluring than the royal look-a-like switch, it’s the swarthy villain who’s seeking to subvert all to his advantage-including the noble women. The ladies in The Prisoner of Zenda are delightful as well. Madeleine Carroll (The 39 Steps, The General Died at Dawn) is I think a little forgotten today, but she is a beautiful woman and fine actress-not nearly as done up and over the top as the women of the day could be. Her lovely air makes us believe in princesses and royal intrigue. Likewise Mary Astor (The Maltese Falcon, Meet Me in St. Louis) is wonderful as the bad but good girl Antoinette de Mauban. As wonderful as the bait and switch and political villainy are, the ladies at stake make The Prisoner of Zenda all worthwhile.

Yes, it might be too old-fashioned for younger, graphic obsessed audiences, but fans of classic films and swashbuckling adventure tales can love The Prisoner of Zenda. There’s nothing offensive here-even the political aspects of the story are fairly innocent. If you’re child is a fan of adventure, try a viewing or offer up the titular novel. It’s such a shame for good fiction and great films to be pushed aside simply because they’re a little old. Fortunately, a dual DVD edition is available, including this film and the sub par 1952 version. That Technicolor version may add spectacle and lavishness to its frame-by-frame update, but the cast isn’t as charming. Actually, in this day of remakes and updates, I’m surprised a proper, lavish, modern interpretation of this timeless tale hasn’t happened yet. Till then, love and cherish this The Prisoner of Zenda.

Little Women (1933) and Little Women (1949)

Little Women and, Well, Little Women

By Kristin Battestella

Last December, I took in a critical of analysis of Gillian Armstrong’s very fine 1994 adaptation of Little Women. But just when you thought I couldn’t whip up any more traditional Christmas sentimentality, this December I’m taking a chilly winter’s night in with not just one Little Women, but both the 1933 and 1949 film versions. Hold on to your hoop skirts!

Although family audiences and even confident men can enjoy Little Women, women young and old especially adore this 19^th century coming of age tearjerker. For every girl’s fancy, there’s a March sister playing and growing up through the seasons in Concord. Looking for Love Meg, tomboy writer Josephine, shy piano player Beth, and materialistic Amy cherish their Marmee while they befriend wealthy next-door neighbor Theodore Laurence and wait for their Father’s return from the Civil War. What’s not to love?

The 1933 first talkie edition from director George Cukor (My Fair Lady, A Star is Born, Gaslight) adapts Louisa May Alcott’s 1868 by adding several expository scenes and transitions at the opening of the film. Of course, there’s also plenty of Christmas enchantment to be had in this heartwarming tale of family loves and loss during the Civil War. The music and old-fashioned December traditions scattered throughout the film will remind the young at heart and sentimental how things used to be. There’s seriously cold weather, the joy of sausage for Christmas Day dinner, and plenty of wartime generosity to warm any grinch.

Naturally, the black and white cinematography doesn’t allow for the bright styles of other Little Women pictures, but the snowy locations and onscreen holiday music make up for the monochromatic silver screen. The costumes by Academy Award winner Walter Plunkett (An American in Paris, How the West Was Won) are the poor man’s hoops skirts we expect, and the Victorian set decoration looks wonderfully authentic. Ironically, Plunkett would also have costuming credit on the 1949 version, along with more credit to screenwriters Sarah Y. Mason and Victor Heerman (Magnificent Obsession). The couple won the Adapted Screenplay Oscar here, and this 1933 version also saw nominations for Best Picture and Director.

Why is it that in Little Women films, the stars always end up being the ladies who play Jo and Amy? An older Katharine Hepburn made to look younger and a blonde Joan Bennett (We’re No Angels, Dark Shadows) too old to play the littlest March sister battle it out in proper over the top thirties fashion. Hepburn is clearly having a good time with this much beloved character. She gives all of herself in the outspoken, yet classy tomboy fashion old school fans have come to expect from the future star of classics such as The Philadelphia Story and Bringing Up Baby. Of course, the budding icon would win her first of four Best Actress Oscars for the more mature Morning Glory, also released in 1933. It’s not so much the peculiar ages and casting of Hepburn, but that she has the wonderful range for the part.

Bennett, of course, was pregnant and in her early twenties while playing the school aged Amy. Her acting family pedigree, however, strengthens her high-class portrayal of the youngest, most uppity March girl who covets the finest things and wishes her family returned to wealth and good standing. Spring Byington (December Bride, You Can’t Take it With You) is ever charming as the good hearted Marmee, and Edna May Oliver (Drums Along the Mohawk) is delightfully crotchety as Old Aunt March. Jean Parker (The Gunfighter) and Frances Dee (Of Human Bondage- but perhaps better known as Mrs. Joel McCrea) are also wonderfully marshmallow as Meg and Beth, respectively; but the first and third girls are always overshadowed by their star sisters.

The 1949 color extravaganza is no different in its star treatment of Jo and Amy, casting the 32 year old June Allyson (The Glenn Miller Story, Executive Suite) and a be-blonded Elizabeth Taylor (A Place in the Sun, Cleopatra, Butterfield 8)-who’s now the number three March sister instead of the youngest. Wouldn’t you change your literary classic to make room for Elizabeth Taylor?

Traditionally a blonde herself, Allyson dons Jo’s dark hair and spunky style. Despite her being way too old for the part, we can’t help but like feisty little June and her button nose-especially in the famous scene were Jo has sold her hair. Her spontaneity is a treat, too. Unlike other Amys past and future, Elizabeth Taylor is also charming. She’s prim and uppity yes, but somehow likeable in her expressions. Like the rest of the cast, she’s enjoying herself. A very young Janet Leigh (Psycho, Touch of Evil) also looks delightful as Meg, and Margaret O’Brien (Meet Me in St. Louis) is adorable as the now youngest, but still tragic Beth.

Where Douglass Montgomery is a little bland in our 1933 edition, Peter Lawford (It Happened in Brooklyn, Easter Parade) makes his presence known here as Laurie. Well and sure, he’s a fine actor and all of that, but it’s a little more of his Kennedy and Rat Pack connections that have us noting each of his scenes with ‘It’s Peter Lawford!’ Oscar Winner Mary Astor (The Maltese Falcon, The Great Lie) is also perfect as Marmee.

Charming as our prior adaptation is, there’s a little more Christmas here in all its Technicolor glory. The poor, homemade but splendid Victoria décor, the joy of a dollar to spend on presents-and all they could get for their dollars! The onscreen caroling is also delightful, along with snowy escapades, good deeds, and bundles of petticoats. Little Women looks heartwarming despite the March family’s seeming depravity, and this 1949 take won the Color Art and Set Decoration Oscar. In sharing an almost identical script and screenplay, there shouldn’t be that many differences amid these two Little Women takes-but oh, there are. Some of the scenes are in a different order, and there’s no European travels here. Yet, somehow, the 1949 version is longer. Nevertheless, it’s also great fun to hear some of the exact same lines delivered by a different cast. Teachers of the novel or literary fans might enjoy a back-to-back viewing for classroom study or comparison. I don’t know that I could choose between these two versions of Little Women. Some of the 1933 tale is a little more over the top, but it has Katharine Hepburn! Then, again 1949 looks so good. Both features are certainly family friendly to young audiences and classic film fans.

I may still have my old VHS, but DVD editions and video on demand options are available for both Little Women and, hee, Little Women. The sets are a little slim on features, but a digitally restored and preserved film copy is plenty enough. Now, I certainly don’t consider myself the sentimental and super girlie type, but one knows a fine character drama when one sees it. Alcott’s true to her time story of sisters growing to womanhood is still a dang fine tale. Naturally, it makes not one, but three exceptional holiday films. Fans of the novel can certainly enjoy the old school films here, and families can enjoy Little Women at Christmas or throughout the year.