Category Archives: John Ireland

#247 Favorite Film, 1960 Films, Adventure, Charles Laughton, Drama, Epic, Herbert Lom, Jean Simmons, John Gavin, John Ireland, Kirk Douglas, Laurence Olivier, Nina Foch, Peter Ustinov, Stanley Kubrick, Tony Curtis, Top 250 Films

Spartacus-1960

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Spartacus-1960

Director Stanley Kubrick

Starring Kirk Douglas, Laurence Olivier, Jean Simmons

Top 250 Films #247

Scott’s Review #1,250

Reviewed April 30, 2022

Grade: A

Typically, when influential director Stanley Kubrick’s name is uttered, films such as The Shining (1980), 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), and Barry Lyndon (1975) are immediately thought of, and for obvious reasons.

The haunting, moody musical score, the long camera shots, the dark humor, and the clever camera tricks are easy to pinpoint.

1960, the director was hired to direct the gorgeous epic Spartacus after Hollywood star Kirk Russell unceremoniously fired the first director.

None of the previously mentioned elements are easy for me to notice and are more or less absent, but a grand battle scene in a luscious green field is very reminiscent of Barry Lyndon. This is likely because Spartacus was not Kubrick’s film entirely; instead, it belonged to others with more clout.

Spartacus is a brilliant film for many reasons. Some epics suffer from a hokey, cliched feel and can be overwrought, predictable, and tired.

The rebellious Thracian Spartacus (Russell), born and raised a slave, is sold to Gladiator trainer Batiatus (Ustinov). After training to kill for the arena, Spartacus turns on his owners and leads the other slaves in rebellion.

As the rebels move from town to town, their numbers increase as escaped slaves join their ranks. Under the leadership of Spartacus, they make their way to southern Italy, where they intend to cross the sea and return to their homes.

Spartacus is grand, sweeping, cinematically significant, and everything else you’d expect from a 1960s Hollywood epic with enormous stars of its day. Looking beneath the surface, the film is riddled with interesting tidbits like bisexuality, homoeroticism, and violence, more in tune with an art film or modern war film than the safety of a movie made during this time.

Particularly noteworthy is that Dalton Trumbo wrote the screenplay. One of the Hollywood Ten, he refused to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee in 1947 during the committee’s investigation of alleged Communist influences in the motion picture industry.

After the release of Spartacus, it marked the beginning of the end of the Hollywood Blacklist for Trumbo and other affected screenwriters.

Thank goodness.

In a famous scene, recaptured slaves are asked to identify Spartacus in exchange for leniency; instead, each slave proclaims himself to be Spartacus, thus sharing his fate.

The suggestion is that this scene was meant to dramatize the solidarity of those accused of being Communist sympathizers during the McCarthy era.

Besides the political importance, Spartacus showcases a beautiful romance between Spartacus (Russell) and Varinia (Jean Simmons), a gorgeous slave girl. The tenderness and authenticity are palpable as many of their early scenes involve no dialogue but only longing and expression through both actors’ eyes.

I celebrated the connection between the actors at the forefront of much romance. Russell carries the film with calm masculinity, quickly making him heroic and likable.

He is the charismatic, good guy who has been wronged and ill-fated.

A sequence oozing with machismo and homoeroticism occurs when evil Crassus (Olivier) is bathed by his slave boy Antoninus (Tony Curtis). He seductively explains that while sometimes he prefers snails, he also likes oysters. The implication is that he is bisexual, brazenly so, and expects the youngster to become his sex slave.

The warmth of the bathtub and the luxurious atmosphere contrast with the proximity and touch of both male characters.

In 1960, this scene was way ahead of its time.

The conclusion of Spartacus is melancholy and surprising. Having bested Rome’s cruelty, one might have expected to see Spartacus and Varinia happily ride off into the sunset.

This doesn’t happen, and the film is more affluent in it. There is pain and despair as there were in real life. Wisely sparing complete doom and gloom, the ending is satisfying as one central character escapes a deadly demise and conjures ahead.

Spartacus (1960) is one of the greats. It has muscle and texture, and many below-the-surface nuances are ripe for discussion. For these reasons, it’s a must-see.

Oscar Nominations: 4 wins-Best Supporting Actor-Peter Ustinov (won), Best Art Direction-Color (won), Best Cinematography-Color (won), Best Costume Design-Color (won), Best Film Editing, Best Music Score of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture

1955 Films, Barry Sullivan, Betsy Palmer, Camp, Drama, Fay Wray, Joan Crawford, John Ireland, Lucy Marlow, Ranald MacDougall

Queen Bee-1955

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Queen Bee-1955

Director Ranald MacDougall

Starring Joan Crawford, Barry Sullivan, Betsy Palmer

Scott’s Review #1,288

Reviewed August 10, 2022

Grade: B+

Queen Bee (1955) is a drama served in a straight-up Southern style. It is highly recommended only for fans of legendary screen actress Joan Crawford. Made during her career’s downward turn, the character is tailor-made for the actress and her fans.

She struts across the silver screen in flashy gowns and heavy makeup, admiring herself in the mirror and firmly ensconced in bitch mode. With matching garish eyebrows and a sassy smirk, she chews up and spits out every character she crosses paths with.

Otherwise, audience members unfamiliar with or otherwise turned off by Crawford should probably avoid Queen Bee. There is little character development or interesting story other than watching her cause havoc.

Set in the 1950s American South, the vicious and conniving Eva Phillips (Crawford) takes pleasure in making the lives of those around her miserable, especially her husband, Avery (Barry Sullivan), who is so depressed he resorts to heavy drinking and becomes an alcoholic.

Meanwhile, when Eva discovers her sister-in-law (Betsy Palmer) intends to wed her former lover Judson (John Ireland), she decides to ruin their engagement for no reason other than being nasty.

Eva’s niece, Jennifer Stewart (Lucy Marlow), arrives in town and moves in with the family. She becomes Eva’s confidante. Everyone warns her not to cross paths with the scheming vixen, but she must learn how deadly Eva is.

At some point early on, Queen Bee turns from high drama into soap opera camp and becomes silly and plot-driven. It’s also melodramatic and stagey, especially once events spin out of control.

Despite a talented supporting cast, Crawford is the headliner. The part is written with her in mind and intended as a comeback vehicle when her career was dusty and needed a dash of drama.

It’s a delight to watch Crawford as Eva, pouring her heart and soul into a role that allows her to be as vicious as she wants. I guess, in some way, you could say Eva’s manipulative motivation is her claim for love, but that’s a stretch and hardly justifies leading one character to suicide.

At the end of the film, Eva gets her due in proper form, which left me—and likely most audiences—clapping with happiness.

Speaking of the supporting cast, I practically squealed with delight at the appearance of Betsy Palmer, forever known to horror audiences as the knife-wielding maniac on Friday the 13th (1980). Jaw-dropping is to see her play a weak, vulnerable character with no bloody ax anywhere in sight.

Barry Sullivan’s performance as Avery is also noteworthy, as is Fay Wray’s small and odd cameo appearance (King Kong, 1933).

Director Ranald MacDougall wrote the screenplay for Mildred Pierce (1945), which won Crawford the Academy Award and was deemed a significant comeback for her. He also wrote Queen Bee clearly with the idea that she would star and perhaps lightning would strike twice.

It didn’t save for two surprising technical Academy Award nominations.

Palmer’s Carol offers the most poignant character summarization of Eva.  She tells Jennifer that she once read a book about bees and feels that Eva is like a queen bee who stings all her competitors to death.

Queen Bee (1955) is highly recommended for late-night satisfaction. It immerses the reader in an hour and a half of delightful wickedness from Joan Crawford.

Her scheming Atlanta socialite Eva is towards the top of a list of characters one loves to hate.

Oscar Nominations: Best Cinematography, Best Costume Design, Black-and-White

1946 Films, Alan Mowbray, Cathy Downs, Henry Fonda, Jane Darwell, John Ford, John Ireland, Linda Darnell, Victor Mature, Western

My Darling Clementine-1946

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My Darling Clementine-1946

Director John Ford

Starring Henry Fonda, Victor Mature

Scott’s Review #1,017

Reviewed April 30, 2020

Grade: A-

Esteemed director John Ford, mostly known for crafting the very best in the Western genre for four decades, creates a timeless story that is character-driven and unpredictable.

My Darling Clementine (1946) provides a superb atmosphere amid a depressing ambiance led by Henry Fonda, the appealing leading man of the day. The iconic American Western folk ballad, “Oh My Darling, Clementine,” appears during the opening and closing credits to bookend the classic.

In 1882, events began when a group of men herded cattle through the Old West en route to California. The Earp brothers (Wyatt, Morgan, Virgil, and James) encountered the sinister Clanton family, who salivated over the profit the animals could supply them.

After being rebuffed for a sale, the Clantons kill young James and steal the cattle. Wyatt (Fonda) vows revenge and settles in at Tombstone, Arizona, where he befriends the dangerous Doc Holliday (Victor Mature), Clementine Carter (Cathy Downs), the ravishing Chihuahua (Linda Darnell), and Mac, the local bartender.

The film is based on real-life Western figures and events. Wyatt Earp was a lawman and gambler, while Doc Holliday was a gambler, gunslinger, and dentist. Both men participate in the famous and bloody gunfight at the OK Corral, the thirty-second shootout between law enforcement officers and outlaws, regarded as the most well-known battle in the American Wild West.

This makes the film both historical and fun for viewers anticipating some truth. The rest is a created story.

During My Darling Clementine, one can delve into other avenues of enjoyment besides the action on screen. The rich surroundings are glorious and plentiful.

Much of the action takes place outdoors, which is a treat. The spacious and wide-open exteriors are a marvel to watch. The exquisite clouds and sprawling lands are evident, as is the black-and-white cinematography, which adds a measure that color film would have ruined.

Unlike other Westerns, there is surprisingly little racism to be found. Commonly, American Indians are classified as the enemy and subsequently mistreated. Other than one quick scene where an unnamed Indian is booted out of town, a racist moment can be found.

Quite a few Mexican characters appear, most prominently Chihuahua, the apple of every man’s eye. To see Mexican culture represented and celebrated with dancing and country colors is a nice addition.

The pacing is also superior, with little lag or drag time. The short running time of one hour and thirty-six minutes is beneficial, as events get dirty quickly. The saloon scenes, which are simply a must in this genre, are excellent, with their combustible energy.

So much transpires within each scene as the patrons eat, drink, dance, sing, and fight. Interesting characters like the bartender and Granville Thorndyke, a stage actor who performs Shakespeare, make the film very fleshed out from a character perspective.

A minor demerit that must be aimed at the film is the awkward decision to write a perplexing ending that sours the wrap-up. When the big shootout concludes, Wyatt decides to depart Tombstone, bidding adieu to a confused Clementine at the schoolhouse, wistfully promising that he will look her up if he returns.

This is weak and unsatisfying, considering she moved to the West from the East to be with Doc, who dies. Why would she decide to stay, and why would he leave, considering the pair were drawn to each other as the film escalated? I was expecting a “happily ever after” moment.

My Darling Clementine (1946) is an elite treasure in a genre that is commonly one-note and riddled with stereotypes and inadequate treatment of those who are not white, masculine men. Sure, the whiskey flows heavily as the guns are cocked and loaded at a moment’s notice.

But, with arguably two main heroes (Wyatt and Doc), well-crafted supporting characters, and a stoic final fight, this film has it all, providing depth and freshness to an often-stale cinematic genre.