Cameron Mitchell-Hollywood Journeyman

Cameron Mitchell (1918-1994) was a fine and enduring triple-medium actor. His stardom never rose to the upper echelons of the Hollywood firmament, thus denying him status as a true legend. His carelessness in accepting too many film role after the breakdown in the Studio System, most of them in mediocre disaster or action flicks, was a further deterrent. The Seventies alone saw him in such painful fare as 'The Swarm' (1978) and 'Flood!' (1976). Although his roles were limited, from middle-age on, to parts in quickly-forgotten films, his talent and charisma remained strong.

From the boards of Broadway, where he originated the part of 'Happy' in Arthur Miller's 'Death of a Salesman', to the siren's call of studio-era Hollywood, he re-emerged in the 1960's on the vastest medium of all, television, to become a bona-fide star on 'The High Chaparral'.

During his Hollywood heyday, he starred opposite such diverse talent as Marlon Brando and Doris Day, Marilyn Monroe and James Cagney. For some 5 decades he brought grit, sincerity, and well-modulated ability to a surprising array of roles. Armed with a particularly agreeable macho charm, he was a natural in Westerns and all manner of outdoorsy adventures. Never a one-note actor, he also shone in flimsy comedies (opposite that trio of gold-digging lovelies Marilyn Monroe, Lauren Bacall, and Betty Grable in 'How to Marry a Millionaire'-1953) and musicals (starring in the classic 'Carousel' opposite Shirley Jones and Gordon MacRae-1956). He was even at home in costume dramas ('Desiree' with Brando and Jean Simmons-1954).

From 1967-1971 he starred with Leif Erickson on the immensely popular television series 'The High Chaparral'. A few years later he was back on TV as a castaway on the short-lived 'Swiss Family Robinson' with Martin Milner and future Oscar-winner Helen Hunt.

Like many character actors, he chiseled out a long career in a wide spectrum of films. In later years, production quality was often an issue, as was distribution. (Who today has heard of, much less seen, 'Slavers' or 'Rage to Kill'). He also managed dozens of guest appearances on TV. His talent and obvious dedication to his chosen craft remained strong as he worked, one way or another, until the end. In a sense, as a true journeyman, he went where the work took him.

MISSING THE MAGIC....MOVIE MAGIC, THAT IS

I have loved Classic Cinema since my long-ago pre-teen years. I fell hard for its panache, mystery, and glamour. I quickly transferred that instantaneously-ignited passion into something concrete: I trained for the stage and, for a bit, actually trod those New York City boards. Being a writer is a considerably better fit for my creativity, love of language, and control-freak tendencies. Eventually, I started writing about Golden Age film and its shining stars. Although it only fills up a small part of my resume, cinema is one of my favourite article/review subjects.

It occurred to me, out of nowhere this evening, that I have not, of late, dedicated much thought, blog, or column space to this great passion of mine. I have so many balls up in the air that I let this one fall without quite realizing it: and I MISS it! I have been so busy with all manner of things personal and professional that I have not even watched a single old movie for...well, I was going to type "weeks" but, to be honest, it could be months. See, I am not even sure how long it has been.

Now that I have pondered the subject for an hour or two, I am beginning to realize how much impact the flickers have on my day-to-day life. Their visual impact has run the deepest. I have: been inspired to try Flapper hairstyles and 'forties silhouettes; picked up a handful of interesting retro pastimes;learned to thoroughly enjoy listening to crooners;nicely rounded out my vocabulary to include something less than the Queen's English;decorated a room based on a film set; become quite the quirky hostess.
Writing on classic cinema is my small way of giving back to an art form that has enriched my life in countless ways. I think that I am going to make a date with TCM this weekend, just the two of us....and some old friends.
The point to all of this? I promise to be a good girl and post a movie-friendly post at least once a week!

Ronald Colman Appreciation Society

I will begin this post with a disclaimer. If you do not use Facebook, then you will not be able to fully appreciate what follows. While that saddens me--truly, I feel your pain--I will continue on with my intended subject matter with no compunction whatsoever.

No intelligent person would deny that Facebook is the rancid breeding ground to some acutely ridiculous user-generated 'groups'. Some are flat-out offensive. I believe that those should be treated as one would treat an objectionable television show: don't look at it. Go look at something else, leaving it available for those who enjoy it. There is, however, one group that I have, for some months now, been steadily falling in love with: the Ronald Colman Appreciation Society.

It is swell, it is swoon-worthy, it is visually stunning: it is every type of superlative wrapped into one potently suave package. Ronald Colman is in the top three of my (imaginary) HOLLYWOOD VOICES CANON (along with Fredric March and Claude Rains, but that is the subject for another piece). The RCAS is home to more than 600 Colman photographs, many of them quite rare. It is run by avid fans and collectors, so the passion and dedication comes from the right place. It is simply a venue that allows one to share thoughts, experiences, opinions and memorabilia with like-minded others. As such, it is a small but fantastic little niche of the Facebook community.

The RCAS has definitely reminded me why, when I was new to old movies, I found Colman so appealing as an actor. I initially discovered hims as the handsome half of the romantic on-screen Colman-Banky team. There was so much to discover from there, as his talent manifested itself in so many directions. I read James Hilton's "Lost Horizon" at around this time. I was soon thrilled to realize that Colman played Robert Conway in the classic 1937 film adaptation.I may be a movie fanatic, but I am definitely a read-first, watch-after type of girl. I prefer to paint my own pictures, using the author's words and my imagination. Once that has been set in place, it is only with great difficulty that a film or an actor can supersede my peculiar inner vision. The very idea of thinking of an actor while reading the book is anathema to me. Yet, Ronald Colman is one of the few actors that I associate with a novel. That novel is not "Lost Horizon".

By the time that I watched "A Tale of Two Cities" (1935), I had already read the Dickens book twice; my current tally stands at 4. Even though I followed my own protocol, Ronald Colman is indelibly fused with Sidney Carton. From the moment that I open the front cover, Colman is in my mind. He leaps into my psyche if I so much as think about the book. His portrayal seems more of an inhabitation than an impersonation: it is one of the most fully realized and deeply ingrained in all of cinema. This single achievement--hitched to those remarkable looks, that voice--is reason enough to have a Facebook page devoted to the man.

If you have access, I highly recommend that you stop by the Ronald Colman Appreciation Society and become a fan. You can connect and share with others or, if you are like me,you can simply flip through the magnificent gallery of photos.

Photo Courtesy of Ronald Colman Appreciation Society (Helen Lallo).

SOME OF MY FAVOURITE WILLIAM POWELL FILMS

1. Romola (1925)
2. The Kennel Murder Case (1933)
3. Manhattan Melodrama (1934)
4. The Thin Man (1934)
5. After the Thin Man (1936)
6. Ex-Mrs. Bradford (1936)
7. The Great Ziegfeld (1936)
8. My Man Godfrey (1936)
9. Libeled Lady (1936)
10. Double Wedding (1937)
11. I Love You Again (1940)
12. Love Crazy (1941)
13. Life with Father (1947)
14. How to Marry a Millionaire (1953)
15. Mister Roberts (1955)

And a few honourable mentions:

1. The Canary Murder Case (1929)
2. One-Way Passage (1932)

FROM MY VAULT:WILLIAM POWELL-MORE THAN MYRNA'S OTHER HALF

A couple of weeks ago, I posted an old piece about Myrna Loy. The following article about William Powell originally appeared in the same publication.

Debonair.Urbane.Witty.Sophisticated.Irreverent.William Powell wore all of these superlatives like a very expensive,hand-stitched glove.In the era of the young and overpowering Clark Gable and Gary Cooper,Robert Taylor and Tyrone Power,the slightly bug-eyed,lanky Powell was already middle-aged.Distinguished in appearance,with a to-the-tuxedo-born aura,he found leading man success.His attitude,however,was more street savvy,fast-talker than drawing-room polite.He charmed,cajoled and double-talked his way through dozens of films in a career that lasted more than thirty years.His characters were always willing to be a little shady if it furthered their purpose;indeed,they seemed to revel in being sly and less-than-straightforward,their misdeeds often accompanied by a wink.

He was immortalized as Dashiell Hammett's hard-drinking,wise-cracking Nick Charles,a role that he played to acerbic,dissipated perfection in half-a-dozen films. In what is perhaps the most sublime pairing in cinema history,he flirted,argued,bantered and,occasionally,solved crime opposite the incomparable Myrna Loy.As fresh and sexy today as they were an unbelievable 7 decades ago,the proof of their physical chemistry and verbal syncopation is in the watching.

Nick Charles was not his first successful foray into detective-portrayal.He brought Philo Vance to life in four films from the late Twenties through the early Thirties.Lest we try to pigeon-hole him as a suave city-dweller,it pays to remember that he started his celluloid career as a silent film villain in,of all things,Westerns.Silent films enabled actors to readily and believably play characters of various nationalities without the need to master a foreign accent.In this vein,Powell portrayed both King Francis I and The Duke of Orleans.Although,as a former Broadway actor,he had a wider range than the ironic,tippling,slightly ruthless characters that he is most famous for might suggest.

Myrna aside, he starred with the likes of Jean Arthur,Lillian Gish,Louise Brooks and Marilyn Monroe. On the home front,he was married to one co-star and engaged to another.His second wife was the elegant,brash Carole Lombard. He was engaged to tragic sex-symbol Jean Harlow at the time of her death from uremia poisoning in 1937.He ultimately settled down into one of Tinseltown's rare long marriages,to starlet Diana Lewis,in a union that lasted from 1940-1984.He died in 1984,at 91.

He was nominated for the Best Actor Academy Award 3 times but never won.His career steamed through the 1940's with nearly as much momentum as in the 2 previous decades.Still occasionally starring with Loy,he also performed with such up-and-comers as Ann Blythe and Elizabeth Taylor.He received his final Oscar nomination for the 1947 classic "Life with Father" and finished his film career 8 years later as part of the all-star "Mister Roberts".

William Powell's portrayals remain one of the indelible factors of 1930's cinema.He never took himself too seriously on film and his characters,whatever their situation,always seemed to be having a good time....and a good laugh at life's expense.

From My Vault:Myrna Loy-An Appreciation

Old movies first set fire to my imagination when I was 11.It started with "The Moon is Blue"(1953),a romantic trifle starring William Holden and a neophyte Maggie McNamara that ventured to use the V-word (that is, virginity) during the Eisenhower years,hardly a daring exclamation to a 1980's pre-teen.Absurd as this may seem today,this innocuous film was enough to hook me to classic cinema for life.

It didn't take me long to realize that there was higher quality fare to be seen, and I was soon regularly watching old Hollywood classics.'80's television,with few exceptions,paled to a death pallor next to the richness and chic,drama and effervescence of studio-era output.

As a 16-year-old acting student,I breathlessly discovered old-school film stars from a new angle.From Spencer Tracy to Marilyn Monroe,Ronald Colman to Claudette Colbert,they were all beings who dominated the screen.Sometimes glamorous,sometimes tragic,always incandescent,they represented human variety in its stupefying spectrum.

At some point,and with great good fortune (there really is no other phrase for it),I saw a Myrna Loy film.I wish I could say,with assurance,which one it was.My memory leans towards "The Mask of Fu Manchu" (1932),or perhaps one of her earlier 'Oriental' baddie roles.Either way,it was hardly an encouraging introduction to an actress known for her sparkling wit and sophistication, yet it is fitting.In one of the strange twists that Hollywood is so known for Loy,a fresh-faced redhead from Montana,was often cast early in her career as a menacing Asian vamp. Indeed, "The Mask of Fu Manchu" came just 2 years before her star-making turn as Nora Charles in "The Thin Man" (1934).

Combining panache and elegance,she starred in comedies and melodramas,always an intelligent force to be reckoned with.Her star-power was never weakened by the dazzle of her co-stars.The wattage emanating from the likes of Tracy,Clark Gable and,most famously,William Powell only served to play up her command of the screen.Even the shimmering eyeful Jean Harlow,with whom Loy starred in 2 1936 releases ("Libeled Lady" and "Wife Versus Secretary"),did not detract from her vital presence.

At 18,with my acting ambitions still cheerily intact,I received a note from the 86-year-old Loy,by then much my favourite actress.She was gracious to this Ohio teenager with hazy though outlandish ambitions.Let me take a moment here to clarify that I am not,nor have ever been,in spite of my passion for film,star-struck.I am stubbornly hard to impress and wouldn't walk across the room to meet 99% of celebrities who ever drew breath.(Authors,dead ones,are my true weakness).Myrna Loy was the role-model exception.

In "The Best Years of Our Lives" (1946),playing a war-weary wife,she proved her mettle in a drama of depth and realism,endowing the character with poignant maturity.She never played a false-scene,in any genre,never betrayed the machinery at work behind her art.The lady could act.

I eventually gave up acting in favour of writing,for me a more comfortable and primal fit,but my Myrna Loy note,hanging on the wall to the left of my writing desk,remains a treasured possession.It serves as a reminder that,as Myrna Loy proved over the decades,cinema and real life can handle smart,sophisticated,complex and witty women.

PHOTOGRAPH:MYRNA LOY IN "SHADOW OF THE THIN MAN" (1941)

Happy Birthday, Fred!!!!

The Adventures of Robin Hood

Few films are as full of merriment and rollicking action as 1938's "THE ADVENTURES OF ROBIN HOOD". Actors have seldom appeared to be having such a rousing time as this troupe does.The mirth remains infectious even a long lifetime later.Not even the tiniest crack of creative manipulation intrudes into this spirited,witty and handsome re-telling of the most rooted of English legends.It is the kind of romp that no one makes any more. Modern day cinematic exuberance is generally relegated to parodies.(A bit of that kind of elan shows up in "The Pirates of the Caribbean" franchise but they are too self-consciously tongue-in-cheek to have the same impact.)

Norma Desmond, in the person of Gloria Swanson, said that "We didn't need dialogue. We had faces." They also had charisma, highly potent and full of an ease that the Studio System bred, through intense training and repetition,into all of its stars.Errol Flynn was one of Hollywood's most dynamic products, possessing a beacon-like charm and natural athleticism that made him the ideal Robin Hood ( in spite of the fact that the brass at Warner Brothers initially wanted James Cagney for the role).It is impossible to imagine a more ideal cast than those chosen to people this Technicolour version of Nottingham, which is like a stunning storybook sprung to ruddy,rude, pulsing life.

Basil Rathbone, Claude Rains,Eugene Pallette, Alan Hale, Una O'Connor and a heartbreakingly lovely Olivia de Havilland join in the intrigue, romance and revelry of the well-known tale.The sword-fights are real,the words are witty and the action is sublimely engaging.Few films hold such wide appeal: little boys,grown men, and women young and old have been mesmerised by Errol Flynn and gang for 70-plus years. This remains the best of the many renderings. It will never be topped for energy,joyousness,lushness or believability.

PHOTO:A portrait of ERROL FLYNN, shot a couple of years after he played Robin Hood.

Modern Day Doris (Happy 85th, Ms. Day)

Modern Day Doris by amisslis on Polyvore.com

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

Joan Crawford

"I have always known what I wanted, and that was beauty...in every form."-Joan Crawford

Joan Crawford's career spanned nearly fifty years, making her one of the longest-employed movie stars in Hollywood's history. She was able and versatile but, more importantly, she was the possessor of a ferocious tenacity. It was this last quality, rather than exceptional ability, that ensured her longevity.

Madonna was not the originator of physical and career reinvention--Crawford had her beat by half a century. Both started out as sexy, vigorous representations of their generations. In order to move their careers forward, they adapted and, in so doing, often set trends. Joan Crawford transformed herself from jazzy Flapper to Depression-era working girl to Boss Lady, surviving periods where she was distinctly out of fashion to bounce back higher than before.

She exemplified, perhaps more than any other celebrity, what it meant to be famous during Hollywood's Golden Age. She devoted more time,energy and ingenuity into developing and maintaining her image than anyone before or since. She was not an outstanding beauty, and her talent was average. She transformed her ordinary gifts into something that was, while not exactly perfection, an admirable mixture of style, relatability and sexiness.

"Hollywood is like life, you face it with the sum total of your equipment."-Joan Crawford

Happy Birthday, Ms. Crawford

Betsy Blair-1923-2009

Something Extra in Honour of Saint Patrick's Day: Maureen O'Hara

I am breaking my own rule--just this once--by posting something not only pre-written but previously published elsewhere. The below article first appeared, in slightly different form, in The Atomic Tomorrow in September 2005. Enjoy!!

In an industry with few certainties, where yesterday's brightest star is gone tomorrow without a trace, the charming appeal of Maureen O'Hara remains tangibly relevant more than 70 years after her graceful debut. The majority of her impressive body of work spans the 1940's-1960's, with a few decidedly worthy performances book-ending those decades.

Starting out as a player at Dublin's legendary Abbey Theatre, the teenager was soon under personal contract to Charles Laughton, debuting under the directorial genius of Alfred Hitchcock. After being brought to Hollywood to again star opposite Laughton, this time in 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame', she found herself indentured to the studio system when her contract was sold.

Faced with a confused studio hierarchy, who did not know what to do with the regal, intelligent actress, she bounced around in a handful of pretty unimpressive films. She soon found solid footing under the direction of John Ford. 'How Green Was My Valley', Richard Llewellyn's classic tale of family life in a downtrodden Welsh mining village, was magnificently adapted by the already legendary director. Well-built yet gracefully commanding, she soon carved a unique niche for herself as a female 'swashbuckler'. She found solid success by doing her own stunts while displaying a personality both fiery and self-possessed.

Portraying the logical, fairy-tale denying mother of Natalie Wood in 'Miracle on 34th Street' (original version) commenced another successful aspect of her career. Although only 26 years old, she embraced the professional opportunity that this afforded. Today, she is closely identified with a number of maternal roles,endowing her mothers with a hip, breezy, sexy and modern attitude.

She was a most-worthy partner for the otherwise stilted machismo of John Wayne in one of Hollywood's best screen partnerships. Real-life platonic best-friends, they had a sizzling yet affable chemistry that usually revolved around a well-matched battle-of-the-sexes. She hitched Wayne's talent to her own, elevating his wooden but iconic ability far above that which he exhibited on his own or opposite less-dynamic co-stars. 'The Quiet Man' is the ultimate movie of O'Hara, Wayne and director John Ford. As near to perfect as the hollywood movie machine can get, then or now, it remains refreshing, absorbing and delightful nearly sixty years after its release. Worth all 7 years it spent in the planning stages, it has spawned legions of devoted fans known as 'Quiet Maniacs'.

Forever Esmerelda, forever Angharad, forever the mother of the young Natalie Wood and the twinned Hayley Mills, forever Mary Kate Danaher....Maureen O'Hara's roster of classic performances is nearly as interesting as the lady herself. She is a real-life heroine:as a fighter for Irish identity within the American immigration process, she made history. She was the first celebrity to sue a tabloid and win, putting the shady and story-concocting 'Confidential' out of business 50 years ago. After retiring from Hollywood, she became a magazine publisher and airline president, the first woman to hold that position in the US. Tough, elegant and brave, she is one of the few actresses in Hollywood history whose real-life accomplishments and endowments match those of her on-screen counterparts.

John Ford, the quintessential American director, won two of his Academy Awards for films starring Maureen O'Hara: 'How Green Was My Valley' and 'The Quiet Man'.

Photo-Maureen O'Hara in 'The Black Swan' (1942).

John Wayne, Comic Actor-"The Quiet Man"

As performers, John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara were at their best when wooing, fighting and laughing their way across the big screen. Close friends in real life, their chemistry was effortless. He was never more at ease, or disciplined, as an actor than when he had the fiery Irish redhead to play off of: he exhibited a likable charm in their scenes together that he could never muster when playing opposite anyone else.In the films made after John Wayne the actor became John Wayne the icon (Classic Hollywood's favourite method of maintaining Box Office Gold),you never forget who you are watching. The image always comes first, the characterization second.

Only in his films with Maureen O'Hara does John Wayne recede into the background. "The Quiet Man" (1952) is the rarest of films for the American legend. It is quite possibly the sole full characterization he achieved in his nearly forty years of superstardom.In action films, he was a titan:terse, muscular and, even when mortal, somehow untouchable. In "The Quiet Man", he is robust and masculine but also human.He is fine and funny in this fast-paced, intelligent comedy. For 129 minutes, John Wayne does not exist: Sean Thornton does.

We meet the affable yet proud boxer upon his arrival in Innisfree. Newly retired, he falls in love with the spirited, kind and beautiful Mary Kate Danaher, younger sister of the churlish, rascally local Squire. We follow him as he adjusts to life at a different pace, amongst the peculiar villagers. As he falls in love and marries he is accepted by everyone but his traditional and greedy brother-in-law.

The greatest fight in screen history--it is nearly ten minutes of pure perfection-- secures a happy ending that is just right.It involves every element you could possibly need for an impromptu and mobile set-to:wounded masculine pride/honor, water, betting Priests, an entire Irish village egging you and your opponent on, more water,an Intermission pint at the local pub, yet more water and a dying man's spontaneous recovery.

To view the fight scene, click on the YouTube clip embedded below. The film itself airs on TMC at 8:00 PM EST, on St. Patrick's Day. It is a truly delectable and infectious comedy classic, capturing the cast ( including Victor McLaglen, Barry Fitzgerald, Mildred Natwick and Ward Bond) and director John Ford at the height of their always stellar powers.

John Ford won the Academy Award for Best Director. Winton C. Hoch and Archie Stout were awarded the Oscar for Best Cinematography, Color. It received 5 other nominations, including Victor McLaglen (Best Actor in a Supporting Role), Frank S. Nugent (Best Writing, Screenplay) and Best Picture.

Photo-John Wayne in Australia, 1943.

The Greatest Cinematic Fight Scene Ever

The Edge of the World-1937

The wind rings fierce in its desolation. Seagulls somehow manage to stay aloft, their cries barely reaching the ears of those below. Half-wild, dirty sheep, fleet-hoofed of necessity, have run of the fields and tor-sides and stone paths, their guard-dogs always within sight. Waves torment the rocks, spitting sea spray in all directions.

There is entrancing beauty to be found within the isolated fishing island's physical struggle with the elements. Born of green meadows, the cliffs drop off perilously to the moving water below. Houses, village buildings--even the kirk--are carved from the hillsides. Nothing in Hirta is separate from the earth or the weather.Everything that has been made from the hands of man is as tied to nature as the inhabitants are to their Lord and their Laird.

We first meet the final residents of Hirta, already a decade gone, as their memories move ghost-like through the village, treading down the path to shore. From this point, to the closing credits, we are given their story first-hand.

Although, elsewhere, it is the Roaring Twenties, the island is a living museum to the old ways. The residents have become increasing aged, as youth--particularly males--flee to the mainland as soon as they are able.It is a vast old folks home, where even the middle-aged, though infectiously hearty,seem older than they are.

Robbie, Ruth and Andrew's youth shines forth like a beacon. The trio of young-adults represents the best hope for the island's future. Robbie and Ruth are amicable twins, Andrew is best-friends with the former and betrothed to the latter.

The fate of Hirta itself has already divided the small community, with some favouring abandonment and removal to Scotland and others preferring to stick it out. The two young men are in strong disagreement. A lazy Sabbath afternoon turns quickly from camaraderie to a stand-off, resulting in a silly boy's bet that ends with death, feuding and broken promises.

Andrew successfully completes the wager by climbing, without gear, the tallest cliff on the island. Robbie plunges to a sodden death in the sea below. The entire village is plunged into mourning. It is a culture where a tragedy affects everyone, and where celebration is equally shared. There will be no wedding, only a funeral. Robbie's father, Peter Manson, delivers the funeral invitations orally, as he solemnly walks from house to house with the news that they already know.

Andrew leaves Hirta for a life elsewhere. He cannot stay so near to the woman whom he is no longer allowed to marry. Small dramas unfold herein,including the birth and sickness of Ruth's daughter, illegitimate but welcomed as a gift by every islander. The reconciliation of Andrew, Ruth and her father is expected but not forced. It is a small point of happiness in a film barren of either hope or a conciliatory happy ending.

It is Peter Manson who ultimately signs the letter of appeal that is sent to the mainland. His daughter and her family now safe off of the island, he prepares to depart along with the others. Families, their belongings and livestock are all en route to the boat that will take them away from their embattled but beloved island home. A girl shepherds her kittens into a basket, signs are torn from businesses, keys are turned in locks one last time. They are removing themselves wholesale from the only place they have ever loved because their way of life is no longer tenable in the modern world.

The end of the film is anticipated from the very beginning yet it is wrenching in the most unexpected ways. I held my fingers to my lips,actually biting my nails, as the last tragedy unfolded terrifyingly slowly. It plays out in real time, taking several minutes to occur.

"The Edge of the World" (1937)begins with a prologue, set in the year of its release. A party of three, two men and a woman, sail to the island on a day-excursion. One of the former knows the sad events behind the island's abandonment; it is he who starts the narration, giving us the story behind a tombstone bearing the inscription "Peter Manson-GONE OVER."

It is easy to imagine "The Edge of the World" as a silent film. The dialogue is appropriately spare, direct and passionate. Yet it is a logical step to think of how it would play if words were excised altogether. The cutting of the film would lend itself admirably to a silent feature: it moves quickly from scene to scene, allowing for no smooth transition. There is no time to mull things over and it is visually jumpy.The black and white cinematography is balm to the harsh landscape, resulting in something that is wonderful to watch. The Women of The Glasgow Orpheus Choir provide the mournful soundtrack to the drama, infusing it with the only other stimulus needed.

So many of the scenes seem like tableaux from an earlier cinematic era: fiddlers and dancers alike moving to a reel; Andrew's father clicking his heels together as he walks with a lantern in one hand, a pipe in the other; the old women of the village, sitting arow on a hillside, knitting for the newborn babe, while she is being rocked by her mother.

"The Edge of the World" is an endangered species: it is a film that crawls in your head and sticks there, for all of the best reasons. It is not memorable for violence, sex, or action. It is stark and visually stunning. Its story, inspired by real life events, is forceful, empathetic, unvarnished and understated. It improves with each viewing yet its impact does not become diluted.

"THE EDGE OF THE WORLD"-1937 Written and Directed by Michael Powell

Starring-

John Laurie

Belle Chrystall

Eric Berry

Finlay Currie

Niall MacGinnis

Grant Sutherland

and, in the Prologue:

Michael Powell and his wife Frankie Reidy

The photo is of the subtle, superlative John Laurie, taken during the production of a later film, "Happy Go Lovely".

Remembering Betty Hutton- 26 February 1921-11 March 2007

Umbrella Series #2-"What you say when you don't know what to say"

I need to toss an opinion out into the world. I realize that, at the risk of appearing hard-hearted, tasteless or elitist, I may incur mass censure. However, it must be noted: I do not like 'The Sound of Music' (1965). Even though it was inspired by the real-life drama of the Von Trapp's , I have never, for a split second, been able to force myself, even through liberal self-application of guilt, to give a fig about their fictionalized stand-ins. The song 'My Favorite Things' serves only to nauseate me. I dodge it as best I can every Christmas time, when it is treated as some sort of holiday anthem.
The only vintage Julie Andrews film I truly appreciate is, of course, 'Mary Poppins' (1964). Not only does it feature an enjoyably miscast Dick Van Dyke, it is replete with goofily addictive tunes and trippy sets. I loved to sing along with it as a kid. Its saccharine moral message was lost on me but I could spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious at quite a precocious age.
From an episode of The Simpsons to Anne Hathaway's recent SNL sketch, parodies abound: a sure, affectionate indication of its permanent place in pop-culture. Re-viewing it as an adult, it is not so sweet after all. As an engagingly sly fantasy, it is way less sugar-coated than 'Music'. Plus, it has that aerodynamic umbrella, surely the most famous in cinema history, behind Gene Kelly's 'Singin' in the Rain' dance partner. Not just a prop, the enigmatic Mary Poppins' black brolly is integral to the plot, giving definition to her character as soon as she comes into view: this is no wall-flower. Anyone willing to so serenely fly over the city of London, clutching nothing but an umbrella ,with one hand, is obviously balls-out fabulous.

(This is #2 in a series inspired by National Umbrella Month)

Spoonful of Sugar