Read my writing on David O. Selznick’s Gone With the Wind (1939) which I wrote after seeing the movie at Sid Grauman’s Chinese Theater in Hollywood this spring during TCM’s annual movie festival.
In the essay, which includes an extended section on my personal context for seeing the film and reading the 1936 novel by Margaret Mitchell, which won a Pulitzer Prize for literature, I examine its treatment of slavery, romance, women, history and war. This includes my analysis of its most famous line, which I think is misunderstood, overestimated or underestimated, and a new discovery about the character Prissy.
Read my analysis of Gone With the Wind on New Romanticist here.
Another movie I had seen before, long ago, but never reviewed, is Samson and Delilah, Cecil B. DeMille’s 1949 Bible epic. This, too, I saw at TCM’s festival. This, too, contains certain aspects that I think today’s audiences (to the degree they’re aware of these movies) may miss. Read my guest review for a classic movies blog of this movie about sex between man and woman here.
Though I had never seen Winchester ’73, a Western starring James Stewart and Shelley Winters, I knew about its anti-Western or modern reputation. I think I detected an aspect about the 1950 film which other analysts may have missed, which I write about in my review. You can read my guest review of Winchester ’73here.
Each new review includes a short postscript on the screening including my thoughts on TCM’s presentation. Additionally, I reported on TCM’s tribute to the 20th Century Fox studio founded by a Hungarian immigrant named William Fox, which like Marvel Comics has been consumed by Disney, for one of the Internet’s best classic movies sites, Once Upon a Screen. Read the appreciation of Fox here, where I also share other classic movies posts, including my roundup of TCM’s 10th annual Classic Film Festival.
One of the TCM event’s best features included a program with the child of Ruby Dee and Ossie Davis, as well as Charlton Heston’s son and Cary Grant’s kid with Dyan Cannon. An article about this discussion, moderated by the granddaughter of Melvyn Douglas (Ninotchka, Hud, The Candidate), will be posted soon.
In the meantime, I’ve also conducted a thorough examination of the 1969 Academy Award-winning Best Picture, Midnight Cowboy, which turns 50 years old this year. I had never seen the movie, which is curiously forgotten, ignored or rarely discussed yet widely heralded as a masterpiece, an assertion which I dispute in my analysis. Read my thoughts on this bleak and miserable gay-themed film, which debuted in the same year as the hippies’ music festival near Woodstock, Charles Manson’s mass murderous hippies in Los Angeles and America’s landing a man on the moon, here.
Recalling the opposite of Midnight Cowboy‘s extremely depraved and influential sensibility, today’s the date that Turner Classic Movies airs its movie marathon in memory of the late Doris Day, who died last month in California. I was moved to write a tribute to this wonderfully American star which I hope you choose to read. Turner Classic Movies features the article, “America Needs Doris Day”, here.
The Manchurian Candidate (1962), a strangely prophetic film starring Laurence Harvey (Butterfield 8), airs this month on Turner Classic Movies (TCM). John Frankenheimer’s controversial conspiracy-themed movie, withdrawn by the studio from distribution after the assassination of President Kennedy, shows on May 18 (check local listings for all movies in May).
Another conspiracy-themed film, the sterling Bad Day at Black Rock (1955), shows on May 23. So does the fine little British war movie, Hope and Glory (1987). On the following day, May 24, TCM airs three unforgettable movies with extremely dark themes about the child in mortal danger: Barbara Stanwyck in 1931’s chillingly exquisite Night Nurse (I rarely say this but do not miss this movie, especially if you like to see strong women depicted in proximity to heroic men); 1955’s Night of the Hunter, based on the novel, starring Lillian Gish and Robert Mitchum as good and evil religious practitioners and John Wayne in The Searchers (1956).
Inherit the Wind, the 1960 motion picture version of the stage play about the trial of a Tennessee teacher who dared to teach Charles Darwin’s Theory of Evolution, shows the next day (May 25), followed by a 1973 romp starring Richard Chamberlain, Charlton Heston and Faye Dunaway based on Alexandre Dumas’ novel The Three Musketeers.
The 1989 movie about an all-black unit of the Union Army in the Civil War, Glory, starring Morgan Freeman and Denzel Washington, screens on May 27 after a showing of the World War 2-era film From Here to Eternity (1953) starring Montgomery Clift, Donna Reed, Ernest Borgnine, Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster. Two classics by director Howard Hawks, 1959’s outstanding moral alternative to the anti-heroic High Noon (1952), Rio Bravo (1959) starring John Wayne, and the romantically heroic Only Angels Have Wings (1939), air on May 30.
With a festival theme of classic movies originating with literature, Turner Classic Movies’ 2018 TCM Classic Film Festival in Hollywood satiated, enticed and, on occasion, stirred in audiences the power and wonder that the original filmmakers intended decades ago.
Event planning in one of the city’s seediest neighborhoods is a challenge. In today’s cultural void, creating a sense of purpose, let alone eliciting an emotional response, around a particular idea is an impressive achievement. That Turner Classic Movies attempts, executes and sustains this festival every year, especially soon after losing its defining host and ambassador, Robert Osborne, and that brand TCM does this in Hollywood, which increasingly resembles a horror film set, astounds.
Senior programmer Charlie Tabesh, as Robert Osborne told me more than once while persuading me to attend the festival, has mastered the metrics of showcasing classic movies. TCM’s theme this year, films based upon a piece of writing, has renewed meaning and relevance. As I told them both, programmers Stephanie Thames and Scott McGee assembled an outstanding program.
New tours and venues, courtesy of the American Society of Cinematographers and the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences, were on the bill. Grand Prix (1966) screened in the ArcLight Hollywood’s Cinerama Dome. Interviews with movie makers James Ivory, Gilliam Armstrong and Robert Benton added value to the festival. So did the presentation of the first Robert Osborne Award, which went to Martin Scorsese at Grauman’s Chinese Theater. Other welcome additions include a tear-out schedule in the program guide. Familiar guest speakers and moderators, such as Cari Beauchamp, Ben Burtt, Leonard Maltin, Wyatt McCrea and Donald Bogle returned for stimulating, thoughtful commentary, perspective and insights.
TCM does get in its own way. I watched A Woman Rebels (1936), a compelling movie starring Katharine Hepburn, on TCM after the festival and learned of its literary origins. This made me wonder what classic movie scholar and author Cari Beauchamp would have to say about it and wish the movie had also been featured. The event lacks wider and deeper philosophical perspectives (as I pointed out in my preview) and this year’s festival is no exception. In retrospect, TCM missed key literary-based pictures, though there are often good reasons, including rights, quality and recent festival screenings.
Other gripes or suggested steps in progress include better red carpet positioning — having movie stars, especially those in their nineties, posing in LA’s late afternoon sun is brutal — handling and presentation of talent. A stellar event such as this requires hands-on attention to detail. It was disappointing that few among the press pool knew that Sounder‘s Cicely Tyson, for instance, had portrayed both Marva Collins and Kunta Kinte’s mother on ABC’s epic Roots.
Speaking of Miss Tyson, whose tale of being tossed out by her mother as a kid for wanting to be an actress is wrenching, the interview with TCM’s host Ben Mankiewicz before Martin Ritt’s Sounder contained one question about the 1972 movie. Sounder co-starred the late Paul Winfield and introduced Kevin Hooks in his film debut. An actress of Miss Tyson’s caliber calls for delving deeper into the movie the audience is about to see.
Speaking of longtime host Ben Mankiewicz, he visibly makes every effort to be his best. Ben treats every festival gathering to his sense of humor. However, segments such as the “Growing Up Mankiewicz” feature, which packed a standing room only audience into Hollywood Roosevelt’s Club TCM, take time from festival programming for and about classic movies qua classic movies.
Indeed, TCM thrives on worshipping movies as movies, down to cinematography, storyboarding, lighting, casting, marketing and that which makes it all possible, the screenwriting. An emphasis on facts, analysis and context for classic movies ought to trump having a blood relation to those who made them. I enjoy witty and knowledgeable commentary by hosts such as Illeana Douglas, for instance, but it’s primarily because she demonstrates enthusiasm for the movies. Part of what makes Robert Osborne an enduring figure in TCM’s legacy is his experience and mastery of movies as a performer, columnist and, ultimately, as a television interviewer and host.
Robert Osborne’s proximity and connection to movie stars and filmmakers informed his insight, wisdom and passion for movies but knowing that he knew Lucille Ball and Olivia De Havilland was not fundamental to appreciating TCM’s brand; it was co-incidental, icing on the cake. What sealed his viewer relationship was his apparent and abundant love for classic movies and, crucially, his accessibility to the audience in sharing what he loved. He always sought to ground his experience in being the boy from Colfax, Washington, who’d immersed himself in the movies. That he later made a living from it was a happy fact which he cherished. He wanted you to cherish it, too.
Robert Osborne’s reverence for movies was the byproduct of, not an afterthought to, his experience and knowledge. He always sought to forge a connection with the audience rather than magnify any other connection he might have had. In every case, he always brought the focus back to classic movies.
Classic movies this year were, as always and in general, superb. Sounder moved me to appreciate rational parenting from the perspective of a poor, black family during the Great Depression. Places in the Heart had a similar impact, though about a family made by choice, not simply by blood. Alfred Hitchcock’s Spellbound was something of a marvel in nitrate at Sid Grauman’s Egyptian Theater. I Take This Woman (1931) allowed me to experience the chemistry of young Gary Cooper and Carole Lombard. Kramer vs. Kramer, written and directed by Robert Benton, whom I had the pleasure to meet and interview during the festival, reminds me that life’s smallest moments, recreated with deliberation, can pack the most attuned emotional wallop.
The single movie that made the most searing impression is William Wellman’s A Star is Born (1937). This film, like 2016’s best movie, La La Land, revels in its screenwriting. The motion picture spins a tantalizing story of abiding romantic love, intoxicating glamour and the unspeakable agony of losing one’s highest value. Like that recent film, and like Hollywood and everything decent, honorable and larger than life about it, particularly as a microcosm for the best of America, this less jaded, more wholesome version of A Star is Born is cautionary, resplendent and redemptive.
The often remade movie ultimately depicts ambition. Wanting more of work one loves is not enough, this classic movie suggests, to fuel one’s life, let alone to let one live large. Whether this desire to create destroys or inspires the one wanting goes to whose sake for which one wants and whether the want is deserved. This makes all the difference.
As cinematic drama, so does A Star is Born, yesteryear, now and, with luck, always. The intelligent movie radiates a kind of glow born of combing through the details of hardship, strength and the relentless, not to be confused with ruthless, pursuit of one’s happiness. This makes the classic movie, the forerunner to another upcoming remake by two talented and luminous stars, a perfect ending for this year’s writing-themed classic film festival.
Marvel’s movies dominated this spring at the box office again. This time, however, the plot and character glut maxes out to the point of fatigue. I was already dissuaded from further investing in Marvel’s comic book-based series, which I’ve favored, defended and enjoyed, by the overwrought, confused and overrated Black Panther. I’m apparently alone in that camp, which is fine with me.
Read the review
Unfortunately, this season’s Avengers: Infinity War is worse; my review explains why. I doubt I’ll look forward to seeing another Marvel movie. Even before I saw the most recent Star Wars picture, I was already starting to lose interest in that series, too, which I’ve never thought were comprised of great motion pictures.
Then, Lucasfilm named director Ron Howard to direct the new movie (an origin story) about the main major Star Wars character I find the least involving, Han Solo, titled Solo. The film debuts later this month. I’ve decided to see the movie, however, because I like some of Ron Howard’s work, especially Frost/Nixon, Cinderella Man and his TV series Parenthood for NBC. As always, I hope for the best.
The best is what I get every time I attend the TCM Classic Film Festival and this year’s events, screenings and movies do not disappoint. After previewing the literary-themed festival, I covered the red carpet affair on opening night. I met and interviewed honored guest Robert Benton, who wrote and directed two movies which screened this year, which I also reviewed.
My roundup of TCM’s 2018 Classic Film Festival, with a critique of what went wrong and an account of what was wonderfully right, is available on The New Romanticist. Among the classic movies screened and reviewed are Alfred Hitchcock’s 1945 murder mystery, Spellbound, Benton’s finely tuned Kramer vs. Kramer and my favorite film of all the pictures I saw, William Wellman’s original version of A Star is Born. They’re each reviewed and linked, with other films such as 1972’s Sounder and 1931’s I Take This Woman, in the roundup.
Alfred Hitchcock’s Spellbound (1945) co-starring Ingrid Bergman and Gregory Peck is a light psychological mystery. Seen by this writer for the first time in nitrate at a screening at the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood during the 2018 TCM Classic Film Festival, this 1945 movie is not director Hitchcock’s best work. Spellbound is nevertheless thoughtful and interesting. With Peck as the handsome but offbeat new head of a mental health center and cigarette holder-smoking Bergman as the lady doctor with whom he falls in love at first sight, Spellbound is, as TCM’s hostess properly introduced it, more than a tad preposterous.
Seeded into this psycho-drama, which also features Norman Lloyd and a capable cast as pseudo-sane, possibly malicious or predatory and mentally unstable doctors and patients, is “a lesson in how to accept reality”. As soon as Peck’s doctor appears on scene as the new chief and author of a scholarly work titled “The Labyrinth of the Guilt Complex”, with frigid Bergman coming undone at the sight of him, it’s clear that Spellbound aims to surprise while spinning into several subplots.
Is Spellbound spellbinding? Not completely, as Peck’s and Bergman’s doctors bond over a common interest in athletics and he subsequently goes bonkers over kidney-shaped designs on a napkin (or is it the stripes?) and she gets excited over the prospect of tending to the helpless male. Spellbound is more fun for picking up clues than it is binding, even as murder comes into play and Peck dashes off to the Empire Hotel.
Subplots come and go. Some converge, some do not, and some stagnate for no apparent plot point or purpose than amusement. There’s the matter of toying with the then-radical notion of a woman in public alone. Or is Hitchcock simply exploring the idea of being suspicious of an attractive woman alone? This is done as he dramatizes harassment of an attractive, professional woman who’s alone.
In any case, Bergman’s competent doctor is subdued in pursuing the handsome, possibly helpless, possibly unhinged, man in room 3033 and this alone raises thought-provoking, or at least entertaining, questions, especially in the context of the year 1945. When someone makes a declaration which begins with “I want…”, it earns the audience attention, even if it hardly amounts to an effective surprise.
Mixed with detectives on the trail, a glass of milk, a dubious claim that “the mind isn’t everything”, and a train to Rochester, all with Hitchcock’s usual visual flourish, Spellbound gets ahead of itself. Murder, of course, is solved in due course, though don’t expect a fully logical, let alone plausible, explanation. That it comes with the additional bit of wisdom that there’s “lots of happiness in working hard” makes Spellbound more enjoyable than bewitching.
I write fiction and non-fiction. Read my blog at left for informal posts on news, ideas and the culture. I am available for contracting, so if you're interested, please start here.
I welcome feedback. To let me know your thoughts, please feel free to contact me.
Event planning in one of the city’s seediest neighborhoods is a challenge. In today’s cultural void, creating a sense of purpose, let alone eliciting an emotional response, around a particular idea is an impressive achievement. That Turner Classic Movies attempts, executes and sustains this festival every year, especially soon after losing its defining host and ambassador, Robert Osborne, and that brand TCM does this in Hollywood, which increasingly resembles a horror film set, astounds.
Spellbound is nevertheless thoughtful and interesting. With Peck as the handsome but offbeat new head of a mental health center and cigarette holder-smoking Bergman as the lady doctor with whom he falls in love at first sight, Spellbound is, as TCM’s hostess properly introduced it, more than a tad preposterous.