Classic Movies…Today!

Samson and Delilah Still Enchanting
By Kristin Battestella

So I’m up all night with the flu and lo and behold what’s on Turner Classic Movies but one of my all time favorite films: Cecil B. DeMille’s 1949 essential Samson and Delilah. This epic tale from the Book of Judges has lost none of its charm.
Respected and revered Danite strongman Samson (Victor Mature) falls in love with Philistine beauty Semadar (Angela Lansbury). They plan to marry, despite the objects of Gaza Captain Ahtur (Heny Wilcoxon). Samson is tricked by Ahrtur and Semadar’s scheming sister Delilah (Hedy Lemarr) and becomes an outlaw. After he defeats The Saran of Gaza (George Sanders) and his army ‘with the jawbone of an ass’, Delilah plots to destroy Samson and his legendary strength-by cutting off his long hair.

Alright, I’ll say it. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I’m sure that phrase has been used to describe Delilah before. Hedy Lamarr had a relatively short film career, and today she’s probably more well known for later controversies and scientific work-if at all. There’s no mistake, however, that Samson and Delilah is Lamarr’s film. Although I sometimes wonder if her sultry delivery was dubbed, Lamarr’s vixen villainy and ruthless love give Delilah all the allure and power she needs. Heaven forbid we see her navel, of course, but the tight wraps and halter tops show plenty of cleavage and a lot of leg. What a delightful shock to post World War II America!
I’ve seen plenty of Victor Mature films (My Darling Clementine, Chief Crazy Horse, The Robe) but he’s not one of my favorite classic leading men. He’s a little too dramatic and droopy eyed for my tastes. However, as big and angry strongman Samson, these qualities work. In fine epic support is the young and beautiful Murder She Wrote star Angela Lansbury. As many times as I’ve seen Samson and Delilah, it’s still a novelty to see Lansbury beyond her spunky detective old lady. George Sanders (Rebecca, All About Eve) is his usual vile self, and DeMille staple Henry Wilcoxon (The Ten Commandments, Mrs. Miniver) always fits in historical garb. I must also note a fine Olive Deering as Miriam, a role she would reprise-sort of- in The Ten Commandments.

After spending my childhood watching Samson and Delilah almost daily (I had to make time for The Ten Commandments, too), I hadn’t seen the film in years. I’ll admit some folks don’t like old school classics because they think older films look hokey and people act over the top. Samson and Delilah, however, is as perfect today as it was in 1949. It’s a shame that later sprawling DeMille epics and sandal flicks seems to overshadow this fine film. Maybe they aren’t historically authentic, but the costumes are metallic, colorful, still gorgeous. The landscapes and ancient tents are lush as ever, and the action still looks cool. I was expecting Samson’s fight with the lion to look silly and the destruction of the temple cheesy. The beauty onscreen and the powerful story, however, forgive any jump cuts remaining.
There are old school tricks to be had in Samson and Delilah, of course, but this was a DeMille epic-top of the line stuff, none of that B production shoestring stuff. So we know it isn’t Victor Mature battling the lion, yep. Our titular couple is supposed to be so passionate, yet they only kiss a handful of times-and remember that three second kiss rule! I also love the color of these old bible sword and sandal epics. It’s so bright and rich. It’s literally like you can’t look away for all the flash catching your eye.
If the sights don’t get you, the sound certainly will. 22 time Oscar nominee Victor Young’s (Around The World In Eighty Days) score was nominated for an Academy Award. It’s instantly recognizable, and all the booms and strings come and go in the right places. I also love DeMille’s touch of onscreen music in Samson and Delilah. Lyres and harps and ancient feasts allow for more enchanting tunes for Delilah to bat her eyes to.
Last but certainly but not least, Samson and Delilah has a dang good story beneath all its Hollywood spectacle. Love and revenge, Israel versus the Philistines, Prayer, betrayal, Monotheism. It’s all there. The Bible doesn’t give writers Jesse Lasky Jr. (Salome, The Ten Commandments) and Fredric M. Frank (The Greatest Show On Earth) much to go on, but the essence of this tale speaks for itself. The dialogue is crisp and memorable. Despite its familiarity, the tale isn’t predictable and stale. On the contrary, Samson and Delilah has aged in reverence like a fine wine.

In this era or remakes and reboots, its refreshing to see only one major attempt has been made to recapture the story of the strongman and his vengeful woman. TNT’s miniseries Samson and Delilah received mixed reviews for length and content, further proving some classics are classic for a reason. Part of me wants to say that I would love a big screen lush and lavish biblical interpretation, but with the story such as it is, an update could quickly turn into a sex and spectacle fest. I find it amusing that we need silly role reversal films like Enchanted to empower women, but this classic Delilah is getting no respect.
I am very disappointed to see the limited availability of Samson and Delilah on DVD. Several editions have been previously released, but now these appear out of print. How dare Turner Classic Movies spoil me with a restored and perfect showing then make me return to my jumping and faded taped from TV VHS. It should be required that every film on the National Registry be preserved on DVD before Disney can make another direct to video release. Whatever version of Samson and Delilah you have, love it, cherish it, and share this wonderful morality tale with future generations.

For more, visit http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_gw?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=samson+and+delilah+dvd&x=0&y=0

Rediscover We’re No Angels This Christmas

By Kristin Battestella

Robert De’Niro, Sean Penn, Demi Moore. I love the 1989 drama We’re No Angels. But that’s not what I’m talking about here. No, that departure stems from the 1955 classic of the same name. Humphrey Bogart, Aldo Ray, Peter Ustinov. That’s what I’m talking about.

Maybe you’ve heard the story. Three convicts (Bogart, Ray, Ustinov) escape from a prison on Devil’s Island just before Christmas. They want to steal some money and clothes, then be ship bound and on their way, but they take a liking to Felix Ducotel (Leo G. Carroll) and his general store. Instead of stealing from Felix and his family-wife Amelie (Joan Bennett) and daughter Isabelle (Gloria Talbott) the criminals seek to keep up the family’s Christmas Cheer against the vile Uncle Andre Trouchard (Basil Rathbone)-who’s trying to close the store that’s making no money for him.

The story is heartwarming enough for a tune in. Scrooges dethawing, crooks doing right, a family trying to keep things together at Christmas. Written Ranald MacDougall from a play by Albert Husson and Directed by Michael Curtiz, We’re No Angels is sold by its cast and its cast alone. Casual fans know Bogie for his dramatic turns in Casablanca (Also directed by Curtiz) or The Desperate Hours or his Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon- or many others, of course. Here-in color no less- Bogart shows a wry, underutilized comedy note that delivers just as many quotable lines as Casablanca. Together with Ray (Battle Cry) and Ustinov (Spartacus), talents also known more for drama, the trio creates a witty, intellectual comedy. There isn’t much side splitting laughter in We’re No Angels-simply quirky puns, funny mannerisms, and quick, but light physical comedy. It’s not The Three Stooges. It’s better.

Of course, humor isn’t funny unless there’s a straight man. Hitchcock alum Leo Carroll’s Felix is wonderful as the kindly, but financially troubled storekeeper who can’t see the crooks for what they really are. He’s blissfully innocent and trusting, as is Joan Bennett as Amelie. Strange on my part that I recognized her voice from Dark Shadows, but the hint of chemistry between Bennett and Bogart is delightful. Likewise Aldo Ray’s liking of church-going daughter Isabelle adds another dimension to the film. She also, is innocent and accepting-not seeing the criminals as such, but rather as angels.

Even the notion of their pet snake Adolf could be handled very poorly in today’s cinema, cgi and all the hijinks. Bogart, Ray, and Ustinov, however, do most of the work regarding the snake simply by looking into its basket. Some dismiss comedy as easy, or of a lesser value, but the cast here proves that humor is not done lightly. On the contrary, one false move, and the entire illusion falls apart. Everyone in We’re No Angels is on his or her mark. A case for each as the star could be made. The script is tight, quick, all the storylines and misunderstandings weave into a fine conclusion.

Traditional villain Basil Rathbone (The Mark of Zorro, alas a hero as Sherlock Holmes) also serves perfectly as snooty rich Uncle Trouchard. His uppity attitude versus the average joe crooks makes it easy for the audience. We want the crooks to be our good guys. Even Bogart says you meet better people in prison. I can’t spoil the ending, but as unbelievable as the starting premise may be, the conclusion has you believing that angelic peoples do in fact walk among us.

Young folks may find We’re No Angels slow, as there are several segments of silence that require complete attention to catch the onscreen hijinks-probably lingering from its transition from stage to screen. The coloration on my VHS is odd, too, and the younger set might also chuckle at such signs of the times-both in the onscreen turn of the century style and the fifties film making look and techniques. By contrast, also check out the aforementioned 1989 remake. It’s serious, heavy, and dark. Still good, but not as charming. We’re No Angels is kind of like those weird big old fashioned outdoor lights on your grandparents house. They are still ticking, after all these years, aren’t they?

Fans of classics no doubt already know and love We’re No Angels. Upgrade to DVD and share this one with anyone who’s willing to view this Christmas season.

The Innocents Not an Innocent Old Film

By Kristin Battestella

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Best Years of Our Lives Still One of The Best

By Kristin Battestella

I consider myself a serious classic movie buff. Friends can’t understand my affinity for black and white pictures-my husband hates them! After this renown for such classics, my father was miffed that I had missed one of the greatest films of all time: The Best Years of Our Lives.

Now certainly I’d heard of William Wyler’s haunting classic about a trio of soldiers adjusting to life in post World War II America. I love Wyler’s previous works- The Big Country, The Depsperate Hours, The Heiress, and of course Ben-Hur. I’m also fan of war movies- The Longest Day, From Here To Eternity, Mr. Roberts-even Wyler’s own The Memphis Belle: A Story of a Flying Fortress. The stars, however, seemed lined against me and this film (and The Sand Pebbles for some reason. I can’t catch that one, either.) Every time The Best Years of Our Lives was slated on television I missed it. Until at last, this summer the stars realigned!

PBS. No power outages, no place to be but before the tele with my dad. A blank tape was in the VCR, too. I was taking no chances for this momentous occasion. Only twice before have I taped a movie without having seen it, and both films I now absolutely adore-Laura and Rebecca.

Speaking of Laura, I was confused at first by its stars Gene Tierney and Dana Andrews-I thought Dana was Laura! No mistaking it here- Dana Andrews, Fredric March and Harold Russell are the triple focus of Best Picture winner The Best Years of Our Lives. The three neighbors meet by chance while returning home from Europe after the war. Former uppity banker Al Stephenson has to adjust to the poor life with his wife Milly (Myrna Loy) and daughter Peggy (Teresa Wright) while decorated Captain Fred Derry (Andrews) has no opportunity on the home front- he returns to his previous job as a soda jerk. His wife (Virginia Mayo) can’t get used to him out of uniform, and the quickie marriage falls apart. By contrast Homer Parrish (Russell) would seem to have it all. He returns to his family home and the perfect girl who loves him-but he wavers between happiness and despair while he and his family come to terms with the loss of not one, but both of his hands.

Unlike pro war movies made during the battles-everyone’s a hero, evil is defeated, the good guys always get the girl- The Best Years of Our Lives sheds light on the plight of the soldiers’ return. Indeed it is not all parades and parties and everything one desires on a silver platter. How can a man who’s gone for five years and taught to kill or drops bombs be expected to fit into civilian society? How does society deal with the influx of such thousands? Work, housing, money, relationships, these aspects and more all have a serious statement to make in The Best Years of Our Lives.

Strange that The Best Years of Our Lives hits the nail on the head with the post World War II troubles, but what saddens me the most is that we seemed to have learned nothing since this 1946 release. When a simple soldier comes to Al’s bank for a loan with no collateral, home, or money but a dream of a farm of his own-banking wise, he should be denied. When Al gives him the loan, I cried. I cried because we are still dealing with the mistreatment of veterans in this country.

Google it and you’ll see all the statistics about American veterans in the 21^st Century. One in four veterans is homeless, and one million are uninsured and ineligible for VA assistance. If The Best Years of Our Lives were in color and the women took off their hats, it would be today. This timeless quality and truth is what kept the boomers hounding me about seeing this film. Gone With The Wind, Citizen Kane, Casablanca. You talk to a classics fan, it’s only a matter of time before you’re asked, “Have you ever seen The Best Years of Our Lives?”

The title alone is haunting and deserves analysis. This is supposed to be the best time of these people’s lives? Are you for real? It’s the worst. Why is that? It shouldn’t be.

Of course, there’d be none of this deserved hype for The Best Years of Our Lives without the spot on cast. Dana Andrews (Crash Dive, The Ox-Bow Incident) looks like a suave bombardier and no doubt he’s got the range to be suave and in love or angry as the over grown soda jerk. WWII movies today don’t have the air as the films of old, largely because modern actors don’t have the look and style of the forties. It looks like playing dress up.

Fredric March (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde) plays the high scale banker to a Best Actor winning T. He can’t get used to no servants and nasty bosses, yet March sells the drunken slumbers and problem conversations with his wife, son, and daughter. The Thin Man alum Myrna Loy and Teresa Wright (The Pride of the Yankees) are also stellar as the patient ladies who’ve held things together before, during, and now after the war.

But of course, real life veteran and double Harold Russell steals the show as Homer. A good chunk of time on film is spent in silence watching Homer use his hooks to do-or not do- routine tasks. The audience watches in twisted fascination at his skill to eat or light a cigarette, but Homer can’t button his shirt or close his door at night because he can’t turn the handle. Today, a film would never spend time on a real life person like this; much less let this heartbreaking situation speak for itself. Cudos to Best Supporting Actor winner Russell and Best Director Wyler for rising to the occasion. Some dialogue you can tell that this is Russell’s first film, but he holds his own against the stellar cast around him. In fact, his simplicity makes the film in many ways.

Based on a script by Robert Sherwood (who was also nominated for the adaptation of Rebecca) from the novel by MacKinlay Kantor, The Best Years of Our Lives won seven Oscars-including Adapted Screenplay. Words like this just aren’t spoken onscreen anymore. What’s said needs to be said. All the cues are made and lines delivered, but Wyler and Sherwood also know where to let the expressions, lighting, music, and action speak for itself. As heavy as The Best Years of Our Lives is, the audience is never hit over the head or underestimated.

There’s just so much to be said for a film of old, and The Best Years of Our Lives is the perfect time capsule. Not only could the style, look, and feel, of the post war era not be replicated today, but such a serious topic would not receive the direction, script, and time it deserves. Young folks today will probably find Best too slow, melodramatic, and cliché. Some might even laugh at the signs of the time captured on film. Women in hats and gloves, the slide across the front seat of a car (that’s not even possible in today’s models!), even the drinking, smoking, and eating habits portrayed have changed. We don’t even have soda jerks anymore-and Dollar Tree and Five Below have replaced five and ten cent stores.

All these changes and yet The Best Years of Our Lives captures America’s reactions and relationships to soldiers then and now. Not one minute of its near three hour run time is wasted, and once you sit down, you can’t turn away, despite how uncomfortable some scenes can make you feel. These things need to be witnessed.

The Best Years of Our Lives can’t be appreciated by cgi spoiled young folks. Although there’s no blood, little violence, and no language to speak of, the subject matter in The Best Years of Our Lives is not suitable for children or the overly sensitive. Boomers no doubt know the film by heart, and a DVD upgrade is definitely necessary for the tech savvy and collectors. If you’re interested in war films or are a budding classic enthusiast, you can’t watch The Best Years of Our Lives soon enough.