Monthly Archives: May 2019

1968 Films, British, British Horror, Horror

Witchfinder General-1968

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Witchfinder General-1968

Director Michael Reeves

Starring Vincent Price, Ian Ogilvy, Hilary Dwyer

Scott’s Review #904

Reviewed May 31, 2019

Grade: B+

Witchfinder General (1968) is a macabre horror film that creates an intense atmosphere amid a gruesome story centered on witch-hunting.

By the late 1960s, violence and bloodletting in cinema had become more lenient and acceptable. Hence, the film takes full advantage of the timing with an unusual amount of torture, cruelty, and brutality.

The mid-seventeenth-century English period is highly effective, as is the ghastly religious angle, making for compelling filmmaking.

Vincent Price is delicious in any film he appears in, having amassed over one hundred cinematic credits alone, to say nothing of his television appearances.

Practically trademarking his over-the-top comic wittiness and campy performances, his role in Witchfinder General may be his best yet, as he plays the character straight and deadly serious.

This succeeds in making his character chilling and, maybe, the best role of his career, despite numerous disputes with director Michael Reeves over motivation.

During the English Civil War, Mathew Hopkins (Price) took advantage of the unrest, profiting from witch-hunting. He travels from town to town, accusing the unfortunate of witchcraft, until they are mercilessly executed, after which he is paid handsomely.

Matthew is assisted in the accusations and torments by John Stearne (Robert Russell), a man his equal in brutality. Knowing these two men were real-life historical figures makes the action even more challenging to watch.

When he arrests and tortures Father Lowes (Rupert Davies), Lowes’s niece’s fiancé (Ian Ogilvy) decides to put an end to Hopkins’s sleazy practices and goes on a quest to seek vengeance.

The mixture of a romantic love story, as Richard Marshall (Ogilvy) and Sara (Hilary Dwyer) marry, and a revenge tale, as Marshall vows to destroy Hopkins, is a nice combination, as are the numerous outdoor scenes.

Witchfinder General has much going on, and the pieces all come together.

The most horrific moments of the film come during the death scenes as the victims, whom logical viewers can ascertain are innocent. The characters are merely perceived as peculiar, therefore deemed to be up to witchcraft, and do not stand much of a chance despite their endless pleas and cries.

Before they are murdered, they are typically tortured until they ultimately confess to crimes out of desperation and perceived relief. The standard mode of death is either hanging or burning to death.

In one sickening scene, victims are assumed to be witches if they can swim and then are subsequently burned at the stake; if they drown, they are innocent, but of course die anyway.

One unfortunate victim has her hands and legs bound and drowns, followed by one of the witch hunters professing how her death was tragic because she was innocent all along.

In horror films, the most frightening situations are the ones that can conceivably occur in real life, whether it be a home invasion, a psycho with a knife, or being burned at the stake in the 1600s.

The fact that witch-hunting did happen is shocking and resoundingly makes Witchfinder General creepier, especially given that most scenes take place in the daytime. Anyone can create a studio monster, but the realism of the events is the key to the film’s power.

As an aside, while watching the film, I was keen to keep in mind how many countries still treat certain classes and groups of people differently, or even oppress them in the name of God.

Food for thought and an additional component that makes Witchfinder General relevant.

The story and the screenplay are not brilliant, nor do they necessarily need to be, given the treasures existing among the elements. The writing is your basic villains getting their comeuppance with a love story thrown in, standard fare, and adequate.

While pointing out some negatives is “Witchfinder General,” the best title that Reeves could come up with, or anyone else, for that matter? The title does not exactly roll off the tongue, nor does the renamed United States release, The Conqueror Worm, sound much better.

Witchfinder General (1968) is not an easy watch, and the faint of heart may want to avoid it, but its realism and rich atmosphere make it a success.

The lit candles, an old castle, potent red and blue costumes, and one of the greatest horror legends of all time make this a must-watch among horror fans.

1958 Films, Musical

South Pacific-1958

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South Pacific-1958

Director Joshua Logan

Starring Rossano Brazzi, Mitzi Gaynor

Scott’s Review #903

Reviewed May 29, 2019

Grade: A-

South Pacific (1958) contains a magical and romantic aura that will mesmerize the dreamy viewer seeking exotic paradise and cinematic escapism.

Marveling at distinctive and experimental color hues to shift from sequence to sequence, usually from romantic to ordinary scenes, the film has otherworldly appeal and lavish locale sequences, some actual, others studio manipulations.

The surrounding war story is relevant, the interracial relationship is more progressive than the times were, and the two leads share tremendous chemistry.

Combined with catchy songs, these qualities make the film a darling watch, providing tremendous enjoyment and an impassioned payoff.

The film may not be the best of all musicals, but there is little to criticize.

Attractive Navy nurse Nellie (Mitzy Gaynor) falls head over heels for suave French plantation officer Emile (Rosanno Brazzi) as the pair enjoy an excellent date amidst the gorgeous beach landscape. The feeling is mutual, and Nellie and Emile seem destined for happiness.

He confides to her that he once killed a man in his native France, causing him to flee his country, never to return. The Navy requests Nellie spy on Emile to utilize him against their hated Japanese enemy.

In a separate but just as romantic story, Tonkinese trader Bloody Mary (Juanita Hall) is determined to marry her beautiful, dark-skinned daughter Liat (France Nuyen) to handsome Lt. Joseph Cable (John Kerr). However, he refuses to marry her due to prejudicial feelings, throwing away a chance at lasting happiness.

Despite his best efforts, he cannot get her out of his mind, and the couple reunites briefly before tragedy strikes.

The World War II backdrop plays heavily into the story, and atmospheric elements make the film ooze with sensuality and sunny desire. The result is good, escapist fun, with brazen musical numbers added to set the perfect tone.

They contrast the island where most events occur with foreboding military airplanes flying overhead, some manned by the main characters dangerously, with a hint of foreshadowing.

South Pacific has much to be treasured for, especially with its songs.

For one thing, all of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s immortal songs from the stage productions “Some Enchanted Evening,” “Bali Hai,” “There Is Nothing Like a Dame,” “I’m in Love With a Wonderful Guy,” “Younger Than Springtime” is retained, and, as a bonus, a song cut from the original stage production, “My Girl Back Home,” is revived herein.

The songs are integral to the plot and hold up well, especially the robust “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair,” which is naughty as Nellie sings it from the shower.

After the successful release of the film version of Oklahoma! (1955) Rodgers & Hammerstein decided to tackle the South Pacific as their next big project. The stakes were high due to the success achieved by the former, but the latter did not measure up.

Some thought Gaynor was miscast, but I personally like her just fine.

Nonetheless, the production is gorgeous and entirely on par with Oklahoma! Because the films were produced by the same people and were released close together, many similarities can be ascertained between them.

Although the South Pacific may be a far cry from the midwestern USA, both films have an outdoorsy feel. Numerous scenes use luscious natural landscapes to add beauty to the big screen.

A key point to remember is that the South Pacific is far from fluff despite the tendency for comic scenes or light-sounding numbers.

The film distinguishes itself quite well with a strong anti-war slant as Emile decries killing and promotes harmony in more than one scene, almost like the film encourages us to learn from a French man rather than an American.

To this end, the critical subject of racism is brought up not only in the Liat/Cable story but also when Nellie struggles with the notion of raising two children of a different race.

Although not revisited as often as unforgettable genre contemporaries like West Side Story (1960) or The Sound of Music (1965) and justifiably not as dynamic, South Pacific (1958) is a lovely film with impressive key production values, a worthy story, and enough sing-along tunes to keep one humming for days.

The picture never feels dated and exists as a timeless member of the stage productions magically brought to the big screen club.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Scoring of a Musical Picture, Best Sound (won), Best Cinematography, Color

1961 Films, British, British Horror, Horror, Thriller

Taste of Fear-1961

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Taste of Fear-1961

Director Seth Holt

Starring Susan Strasberg, Ronald Lewis

Scott’s Review #901

Reviewed May 21, 2019

Grade: A-

Though Taste of Fear (1961) is a Hammer Production, a British film company known for its heavy horror offerings, it plays more like an intense and chilling thriller with a Gothic, ghostly feel than a full-throttled horror display.

The title was changed for US marketing purposes to Scream of Fear, and neither the US nor the UK title quite works, lacking the appropriate pizzazz that the film warrants.

The result is a razor-edged spellbinder with marvelous cinematography and more than a few surprise twists.

The action gets off to an exciting start as a female body is suddenly discovered in the waters of coastal Italy; a young woman has taken her own life by drowning.

Soon after, a heiress who uses a wheelchair, Penny Appleby (Susan Strasberg), arrives at her father’s estate in the lavish French Riviera to bond with her new stepmother, Jane (Ann Todd), and await her father’s return from vacation.

It is explained that the deceased woman was a close friend of Penny’s.

Penny distrusts her stepmother immensely but is unsure why since the woman is more than accommodating during her stay.

Immediately, strange events begin to occur at a rapid rate, most notably seeing her father’s corpse in odd places around the house and the grounds. The body disappears when Penny calls for help, leaving the household members questioning her sanity and Penny starting to agree.

She befriends the handsome family chauffeur, Robert (Ronald Lewis), and the pair are determined to figure out what is happening.

Cleverly, the audience knows something is amiss but not what the entire puzzle will add to, which is an excellent part of the viewing pleasure. Director Seth Holt enjoys toying with his viewers, keeping them guessing at every dark turn.

The biggest questions are these: If Penny’s father is dead, where is the body being hidden? Who is responsible and why? Why does Jane leave the house for drives every night? What does the family doctor (Christopher Lee) do with the story?

The best visual aspect of Taste of Fear is the black-and-white cinematography, which adds foreboding and brooding elements throughout the film’s short running time of eighty minutes.

The grand estate with creepy nooks and crannies provides plenty of prop potential. A grand piano that seems to play by itself is pivotal to the story, as is a murky pool, shockingly deep and unkempt for such a residence. Finally, the mansion boathouse that may or may not contain lit candles takes center stage during the film.

The storytelling is quick-paced and robust, never dragging. Layers unfold as the story progresses, but the developments are necessary instead of overkill as the conclusion comes into view.

Assumptions about which character’s motivations are devious begin to unravel. The illustrious dialogue crackles with spunk, and by the time we figure out what is going on, we scratch our heads in disbelief, finally surrendering to the film’s manipulations.

Taste of Fear falters slightly when an attempt to make the story ultimately add up is pondered. Liberties must be taken happily so, as what could be deemed silly or superfluous instead results in thrilling fun.

Once or twice, I thought the setup was too contrived, but I just as quickly tabled the inquisition instead of choosing to revel in the story.

The more than adequate cast performs their roles with professionalism and energy, always careful to make the unbelievable believable. Any film starring the legendary Christopher Lee is worthy of praise, even if the actor only has a supporting role.

Justice is eventually served, though, as his character becomes central to the plot.

A fun fact is that Lee said, “Taste of Fear was the best film I was in that Hammer ever made. It had the best director, the best cast, and the best story.” Given the actor’s catalog of treasures, this is not to be easily dismissed.

A forgotten delight, Taste of Fear (1961), is a prime example of a film that does everything correctly.

It is an excellent story, Gothic gloominess, and a foray for Hammer Production company into the new psychological thriller genre. The piece is never over-the-top and is a production sure to impress Hitchcock himself.

1960 Films, British, British Horror, Horror

Never Take Sweets from a Stranger-1960

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Never Take Sweets from a Stranger-1960

Director Cyril Frankel

Starring Patrick Allen, Gwen Watford

Scott’s Review #900

Reviewed May 17, 2019

Grade: A

Never Take Sweets from a Stranger (modified to Never Take Candy from a Stranger in the US for marketing purposes) is a 1960 British film directed by Cyril Frankel and released by Hammer Film Productions.

The film contains brilliant cinematography and cerebral quality, and it is pretty daring for the time it was made. It combines a story of pedophilia with manipulations of the legal system, allowing those to get away with this most heinous crime because of their status.

Despite the production company name being marketed as a horror film, the film is more left-of-center than a traditional horror film.

The locale is a small, sleepy lakefront Canadian town that seems like an everyday US town. The Carter family (Peter, Sally, and their 9-year-old daughter Jean) has just moved there to give Peter a fantastic job opportunity as the school principal.

Jean confides to her parents that while playing in the woods, she and her friend Lucille went into the house of an elderly man. The man asked them to remove their clothes and dance naked for him in return for some candy, which they did.

Peter and Sally are appalled and decide to file a complaint. The elderly man is one of the wealthiest and most influential in the town, the respected Clarence Olderberry, Sr.

Jean’s experience is downplayed, and the town largely shuns the Carter family. As a trial against Olderberry commences, Jean is ridiculed on the stand and her story ripped to shreds by attorneys.

After Olderberry is acquitted, he pursues Jean and Lucille in the woods, eventually catching the girls during a harrowing lakefront chase and murdering Lucille. Jean escapes, and the truth is revealed to the shocked and devastated town.

Although the cast of Never Take Sweets from a Stranger is not a household name, each performs well.

As the parents, Patrick Allen and Gwen Watford are well-cast and believable. They are upstanding strangers in the town, wanting to protect their daughter without smothering.

As old man Olderberry, Felix Aylmer plays the role not as menacing but by providing glimpses of pain and sympathy. The audience is unclear whether the man has dementia or Alzheimer’s disease, perhaps not even knowing what he has done.

The black-and-white cinematography is gorgeous, surreal, and tremendously effective.

With ghostly tones, the film gets off to a mysterious and prominent start as we see Jean and Lucille casually playing in the woods, startled to glance up at a menacing mansion (perfect for a Hammer production) to see elderly Olderberry leering at them with binoculars.

The lakefront sequences and the chase through the woods are among the best at providing superior camera angles.

As Lucille talks Jean into entering Oldberry’s house, we presume she has done this before. She knows Oldberry will provide the girls with candy, but does she understand this comes at a price?

Immediately, there is a shred of doubt about the children’s innocence—ever so quickly. The film’s decision and Oldberry’s representation are pivotal in casting even the slightest doubt on the motivations or decisions of the main characters.

Comparisons to the brilliant The Night of the Hunter (1955) are rapid. Themes of child abuse, young children in front and center roles, a creepy lake with a prominent boat, and macabre adults are prevalent, at least to some degree, in both films.

Additionally, both films were shunned at the time of release, misunderstood, and later rediscovered, subsequently seen as treasures of brilliant filmmaking.  Measuring both films as tragedies is also apparent; each results in pain and sadness for the children involved.

Never Take Sweets from a Stranger (1960) was released decades ago. It took years for its brilliance to be recognized and appreciated, as it added admirable and thought-provoking nuances to the viewer.

The subtle qualities make this film a world of its own. Sadly, the best movies are often overlooked, marinating the flavorful juices rather than a sudden bombastic reaction.

1960, the world was not ready for this film, but it is remembered as a brave, disturbing, and relevant film offering.

1969 Films, British, British Horror, Horror, Science Fiction

Scream and Scream Again-1969

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Scream and Scream Again-1969

Director Gordon Hessler

Starring Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing

Scott’s Review #899

Reviewed May 16, 2019

Grade: B+

Any film featuring horror heavyweights and great actors like Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, and Peter Cushing is well worth the price of admission for the name value alone. Each is a mainstay attraction in its own right and, combined, results in an orgy of riches.

Scream and Scream Again (1969) sputters by limiting the on-screen interaction between the actors. Still, after a reflective pause, I realize the picture is to be revered for its creativity and for its use of intersecting plotlines to build a thrilling crescendo into a surprise ending.

The audience is offered three segments of the story, each revisited periodically as a stand-alone segment that culminates in overlapping components.

An athletic runner trots along the streets of London, suddenly suffering from an attack, only to awaken in the hospital with no legs.

Elsewhere, a deadly intelligence operative reports back to his repressed Eastern European country, only to murder his commanding officer with a fatal paralyzing hold.

Finally, a London detective investigates the brutal deaths of several young women in metropolitan nightclubs.

Cushing, reduced to merely a cameo-sized role as the ill-fated officer, is barely worth mentioning and adds little to the film besides appearing in it.

Lee, like Fremont, the head of Britain’s intelligence agency, plays a straight role with not much zest.

Price, with the meatiest role as a mysterious doctor specializing in limb replacement, can give anyone the creeps with his scowl and eerie mannerisms. Still, the film misses the mark by wasting the talents of the other legendary actors.

The film is not at all what a fan of Hammer horror would expect, given the familiar horror cast and the gory-sounding title.

Heaping buckets of blood or ghoulish vampires were on the anticipated menu, but that does not mean the film fails to deliver. It may not please a fan of traditional horror films, as the genres of political espionage and science fiction come into play heavily.

However, the fantastic, peculiar nightclub-serial-killer storyline will satisfy fans eager for a good kill or two.

My initial reaction to Scream and Scream Again was that it was over-complicated and had too much going on at once, especially for a horror film.

After the film concludes and the surprise ending is revealed, I realized that the numerous tidbits are necessary to achieve the desired effect, and that the events will make the viewer ponder when the film ends.

Not to ruin the big reveal, but the filmmakers borrow a healthy dose of Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) in a more macabre way, naturally.

Fans of the 1960s British television series The Avengers will be pleased with Scream and Scream Again, as a similar tone exists in both.

The distinctive musical soundtrack, popular in the 1960s, works well, and the nightclub sequences and some of the detectives feel reminiscent of the show.

The feel of the film is not limited to an episodic television story but contains a similar style.

High British 1960s fashion is also prevalent and pleasing to the eye.

A couple of supporting characters strike a fascination in small and almost entirely non-verbal performances.

A sexy red-headed hospital nurse with superhuman powers and a penchant for amputating limbs, combined with a brooding, mysterious serial killer, provides dubious intrigue about who the actual characters are.

What is their motivation? Do they work for someone or something sinister? Questions like these will keep the viewer occupied and thirsty for an explanation.

Bizarrely, British film and television director Gordon Hessler crafts an implausible yet fascinating story that keeps the viewer guessing.

Featuring horror superstars Price, Cushing, and Lee would seem like an assured horror masterpiece, but the stars’ limited time on-screen brings the overall project down a notch.

Scream and Scream Again (1969) still achieves a good measure of worthy entertainment.

1965 Films, Drama, Romantic Drama

The Sandpiper-1965

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The Sandpiper-1965

Director Vincente Minnelli

Starring Richard Burton, Elizabeth Taylor, Eva Marie Saint

Scott’s Review #897

Reviewed May 12, 2019

Grade: B+

The Sandpiper (1965) is a film that stars Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, released at the very height of their fame.

It capitalized on their notoriety as one of the world’s most famous couples and their well-known romantic tribulations. Although they portrayed adulterous lovers, they were married shortly before filming began.

The film’s theme of adultery closely mirrored their own lives at the time, as each very publicly conducted an affair with each other while married to spouses.

The film is a lavish and sweeping production. It is one of the few major studio pictures ever filmed in Big Sur, and the story is expressly set there.

Big Sur is a rugged and mountainous section of the Central Coast of California between where the Santa Lucia Mountains rise abruptly from the Pacific Ocean. It is frequently praised for its dramatic scenery and is the perfect location for a film with romance.

The Sandpiper (1965) is a romantic drama featuring the two stars’ chemistry. It is a pure case of art mimicking real life, at least in some way. Watching the actors work off one another is fascinating and wonderful. It makes me wonder what life would have been like on the set amidst the dreamlike and steamy locale and the fresh romance.

The story is not dynamic but quite theatrical, the actors being the main reason for watching.

Taylor plays Laura Reynolds, a bohemian, free-spirited single mother who lives in Big Sur, California, with her young son, Danny. Laura makes a living as an artist while homeschooling her son, who has gotten into trouble with the law.

When Danny is sent to an Episcopal boarding school, Laura meets the headmaster, Dr. Edward Hewitt (Burton). The duo falls madly in love despite Edward marrying teacher Claire (Eva Marie Saint).

The melodrama only escalates as those close to the pair catch on to their infidelity.

The gorgeous locale of Big Sur is second to none and exudes romance and sexual tension with the crashing waves against the mountainous terrain, symbolic of a passionate love affair. As the characters capitulate to each other, the lavish weather only infuses the titillating experience.

Taylor is lovely to look at throughout the film, and the erotic nude chest of the character plays a significant role. I wondered if the inclusion had the desired effect or resulted in unintended humor, as the endowed sculpture is quite busty.

The film belongs to Taylor and Burton, but the supporting cast deserves mention for creating robust characters that add flavor.

Eva Marie Saint plays the amiable wife, distraught by her husband’s infidelity but later coming to an understanding. Charles Bronson plays Cos Erickson, Laura’s protective friend, who despises Edward’s hypocrisy.

Finally, Robert Webber is effective as Ward Hendricks, a former beau of Laura’s, eager for another chance with the violet-eyed bombshell.

The film’s title represents a sandpiper with a broken wing that Laura nurses as Edward looks on. The bird lives in her home until healed and then flies free, though it returns occasionally.

This sandpiper is a central symbol in the movie, illustrating the themes of growth and freedom. Its sweetness is appropriate for the love story between Laura and Edward.

The Sandpiper is an entertaining film but not a great one. It suffers from mediocre writing and cliched storytelling but is a vehicle for Taylor and Burton.

The fascination is watching the actors, not for a great cinematic experience; the film is not very well remembered but for fans of the supercouple.

The film was made one year before the dreary yet brilliant Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) starring the same husband and wife duo as does The Sandpiper (1965).

Laura and Edward are worlds apart from George and Martha, and when watched in close sequence, one can marvel at the acting chops of each star.

The film won the Academy Award for Best Original Song for the sentimental “The Shadow of Your Smile.”

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Song-“The Shadow of Your Smile” (won)

1963 Films, Animated, Disney, Kids

The Sword in the Stone-1963

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The Sword in the Stone-1963

Director Wolfgang Reitherman

Voices Sebastian Cabot, Rickie Sorensen, Karl Swenson

Scott’s Review #896

Reviewed May 10, 2019

Grade: B

The 1960s, while not known as the best of decades for Walt Disney productions, offers a small gem of a film in The Sword in the Stone (1963).

Flying marginally under the radar, the film is not typically well-remembered but is a solid offering. It mixes elements of magic and royalty within a cute story.

The production has the dubious honor of being the final Disney animated film released before Walt Disney’s death.

While the film is not great, neither is it bad.

Engaging and innocent, it does not offer the ravaging tragedy of Bambi (1942), the emotion of Dumbo (1941), or the beauty of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937).

The Sword in the Stone offers an adventure with an appealing lead character, mildly entertaining supporting characters, and a host of fun antics surrounding education.

Set in ancient times, the King of England has died, leaving no heir to the throne. This situation elicits peril and worries, as the country is doomed to war with no successor.

One day, a miracle occurs, and an odd “Sword in the Stone” appears inside a sturdy anvil in London. The anvil’s inscription proclaims that whoever removes it will be the new king.

Despite many attempts, no strong citizens succeeded, and England was reduced to the Dark Ages, leaving the sword and the stone forgotten.

One day, a twelve-year-old boy named Arthur appears. He teams up with his tutor, Merlin the wizard, and the adventures commence.

Inevitably, Arthur can remove the sword from the stone and lead the Knights of the Round Table, accomplishing many amazing feats and becoming one of the most famous figures in history- King Arthur.

The Sword in the Stone entertains and pleases the eyes in many regards, with vibrant colors and an array of bells and whistles creatively interspersed throughout many scenes.

The main villain, Madam Mim, is Merlin’s main nemesis. Haggard and dripping with black magic powers, she can turn from a pink elephant into a queen with the flick of her wrist as she giggles and prances about.

Despite being dastardly, she is also fun and zany and delights in her brief screen time.

The whimsical antics of Merlin are the best aspects of The Sword in the Stone as the senior gentleman bursts and bumbles from one oddity to another in earnest attempts to aid Arthur.

Thanks to clever writing, an educational angle is robustly incorporated into the story. Merlin can see into the future, such as knowing that the world is round, not flat.

What a great learning tool the film provides for young kids to discover.

The story risks playing juvenile in some parts where I can see children under age twelve enthralled but adults finding the film too childish to take seriously.

Despite my efforts to stay tuned, I noticed tidbits of the film that seemed too cute.

When Merlin and Arthur are turned into squirrels and strike the fancy of adorable but clueless female squirrels, the scene seems best catered to very young audiences.

What would give the film some excitement would be a good, solid theme song or a powerful love story. Both aspects, which can solidify a hit for Disney, are glaringly missing.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs contain the lovely “Someday My Prince Will Come,” while Snow White and the Prince offer a rich love story.

While sound, The Sword in the Stone can only reach the second tier of Disney classics, missing the upper echelon with its only so-so musical offerings.

A slight miss is how Arthur’s voice changes back and forth between a child and a teenager going through puberty. This is drastically noticeable.

When analyzed, the reason is somewhat perplexing because three different actors were used to play Arthur, resulting in some consistency issues.

Why not just use one actor or age the character slowly and gradually deepen his voice? The back and forth feels sloppy.

The criticisms targeted at The Sword in the Stone (1963) are minor and forgivable as the film plays above average graded on its terms.

The film has a lovely message for children about the importance of education and is a delight best enjoyed by the whole family.

Oscar Nominations: Best Scoring of Music-Adaptation or Treatment

1956 Films, Horror, Science Fiction

Invasion of the Body Snatchers-1956

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Invasion of the Body Snatchers-1956

Director Don Siegel

Starring Kevin McCarthy, Dana Wynter

Scott’s Review #895

Reviewed May 8, 2019

Grade: B+

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), released during the mid-1950s, a time of post-War World II unity and prosperity in America where neighborhoods snuggled cheerily by the fireplaces with nary a care in the world, sought to make the public paranoid, and it worked.

Thanks to a foreboding premise, audiences got to ponder the possibilities of pod people cloning human beings and invading the planet, scaring the daylights out of the masses, and resonating with critics.

Playing like an extended episode of The Twilight Zone, and to the film’s credit, it preceded the television series. The film successfully achieves thought-provoking post-film dialogue at a brief one-hour and twenty-minute running time. It has been crowned with cult-classic status and similar creepy-themed genre films that blossomed during the 1950s.

Set in the fictional sunny California town of Santa Mira, the film gets off to an exciting start as we witness a screaming man in an emergency room attempting to be calmed by staff. The harried man claims to be a doctor and recounts, via flashbacks, the events leading up to the present day.

Our main character, Dr. Miles Bennell (Kevin McCarthy), and his ex-girlfriend Becky (Dana Wynter) team up after several patients report relatives acting robotic and strange.

When half-created bodies in pods are soon discovered, Miles and Becky know something is amiss in their town and race to figure out the mystery of the “pod people” while others turn into emotionless human-like beings.

The epidemic is caused by extraterrestrial life. The intention is for humanity to lose all emotions and a sense of individuality, creating a simplistic, stress-free world.

An interesting facet of Invasion of the Body Snatchers is how time has changed the reaction to the film. In 1956, the thought of aliens taking over the world seemed plausible and frightening since the man had not yet walked on the moon, and astronomy was a new venture.

The peaceful tranquility of the United States of America was in danger of being overtaken, the film exclaimed, and viewers fell for the scare tactics.

The film was created to be a political allegory, and boy did this sure work.

Decades later, the United States’ vibe is more integrated and flourishes with more diversity and acceptance of other cultures and beings. The country is also more chaotic, so the invasion of the “pod people” is less scary and perhaps even more embraced by those living in Malcontent.

Invasion of the Body Snatchers suffers from poor aging and a message rethink and teeters on feeling dated.

The acting is marginally good, if not spectacular, but it does not need to be Oscar-worthy to have the desired effect. The actors deliver their lines with dramatic gusto, successfully conveying suburban Americans’ troubled paranoia to audiences who will surely be on the edge of their seats as the drama unfolds.

The characters never think outside the box, only in straightforward terms, so the motivations are earnest.

The black and white cinematography is palpable yet subdued, and the lack of colors provides substance. While the 1950s was a wonderful time for film, it was also a less edgy time for cinema.

The 1960s brought fewer restrictions and more shocking elements, but Invasion of the Body Snatchers is compartmentalized, feeling more like a long episodic television thriller.

Double-billed with the equally frightening The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) would make for delicious 1950s science-fiction viewing.

I remain partial to the stunning, vibrantly colored 1978 remake, which features superior filmmaking and more layered production values. The original Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) holds its own and is a recommended watch.

1955 Films, Animated, Disney, Kids, Musical

Lady and the Tramp-1955

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Lady and the Tramp-1955

Director Clyde Geronimi

Voices Peggy Lee, Barbara Luddy, Larry Roberts

Scott’s Review #894

Reviewed May 5, 2019

Grade: A-

Released midway through a decade of prosperity, Lady and the Tramp (1955) is a lovely production that represents an innocent time and still holds up well decades later.

The Walt Disney film’s story, animations, and characters are charming, with a wholesome yet sophisticated vibrancy. A year in the life of its main character (Lady) has never been more richly created, providing adventure, romance, and fun for the entire family.

At the turn of the twentieth century, John Dear, presumed to be somewhere in the midwestern part of the United States, gives his wife Darling a Cocker Spaniel puppy that she names Lady.

The couple is immediately smitten with Lady, who provides her with all the comforts of warm and lavish country living.

After months, the Dears become pregnant, causing Lady to feel left out. When the baby arrives and the Dear’s go on a trip, their dog-hating and incompetent Aunt Sarah arrives, leaving poor Lady at risk for her life.

Meanwhile, a stray mixed-breed named Tramp prowls the streets, protecting his friends and avoiding the dog catcher. He dines on Italian leftovers at Tony’s and lives his idyllic life, proud not to be owned and able to live on his terms.

He befriends Lady through mutual acquaintances Jock and Trusty, who reside nearby.

When Lady faces peril, the duo embarks on an exciting escapade that leads them to a dog shelter and a farm. They fall in love, resulting in a candlelit dinner for two at Tony’s, which is the highlight.

All the animals are treasures and voiced appropriately, giving Lady and the Tramp life and zest. Tramp is gruff yet lovable, with a “footloose and collar-free” outlook. He is charming and bold in his determination.

Lady’s voice is the polar opposite—demure, feminine, and proper. It is cultured without being too snobbish.

In supporting roles, Tramp’s fellow strays Peg (a Pekingese) and Bull (a bulldog) possess a New York street-savvy, perfect for their characters.

Besides Aunt Sarah, the dog catcher, and a hungry rat, Lady and the Tramp contain no villains, and each character is somewhat justified in their motivations. The rat wants to eat, the dog catcher is doing his job, and Aunt Sarah, a cat lover with two Siamese pets, is foolhardier and more clueless.

She can be forgiven for wanting Lady to have a muzzle because she misunderstands Lady’s intentions toward the newborn baby. These characters are more comical than deadly, and Si and Am add mischievous shenanigans to further the plot.

The heart belongs to the sweet romance between Lady and Tramp. The two dogs immediately appeal to the audience with instant chemistry.

The “Footloose and Collar-Free / A Night at the Restaurant / Bella Notte” medley is the best arrangement of the songs, as the duo shares a delicious plate of spaghetti and meatballs.

In the film’s most iconic and recognizable scene, the pair lovingly munches on the same spaghetti noodle—if that is not love, what is?

Lady and the Tramp (1955) is a charmer containing innocence, vivid colors, and a rich, welcoming story.

Beginning on Christmas and ending precisely a year later, Lady and Tramp’s incredible journey is topsy-turvy but culminates in the birth of a litter of puppies cheerily celebrating life.

The happy ending is a perfect bow on a Disney film that is enchanting, harmless, and inspiring.

The quintessential American love story between the pampered heiress and the spontaneous, fun-loving pup from the wrong side of the tracks — has rarely been more elegantly and entertainingly told.

1946 Films, Animated, Disney, Kids, Musical, Musical Drama

Song of the South-1946

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Song of the South-1946

Director Harve Foster, Wilfred Jackson

Starring James Baskett, Billy Driscoll

Scott’s Review #893

Reviewed May 4, 2019

Grade: B+

Song of the South (1946) is a Walt Disney film buried in the chambers of cinema history, reportedly an embarrassment never too soon forgotten by the legendary producer and his company.

The reason for the ruckus is the numerous overtones of racism that emerge throughout an otherwise darling film.

Admittedly, the film contains a racial cheeriness that cannot be interpreted as anything other than condescension to black folk, and numerous stereotypes abound.

The mysterious appeal of the film during modern times is undoubted because of the surrounding controversies that hopefully can be put aside in favor of a resoundingly positive message and glimmering childlike innocence that resonates throughout the film.

The hybrid choice of live-action and animation is superlative, eliciting a new progressive experience. Given the surrounding controversies, it would be shameful to spoil it.

The film takes place during the Reformation Era in Georgia, the United States of America, a period of American history shortly after the end of the Civil War and the abolition of slavery. It has a pretty Southern flavor and feel.

Seven-year-old Johnny (Bobby Driscoll) is excited to visit his grandmother’s (Lucile Watson) lavish plantation outside of Atlanta along with his mother, Sally (Ruth Warrick), and father (Erik Rolf). He is soon devastated to learn that his father will return to Atlanta for business, leaving Johnny behind.

Johnny plots to run away from the plantation and return to Atlanta but develops a special friendship with kindly Uncle Remus (James Baskett). Uncle Remus enchants the young boy with sentimental lesson stories about Br’er Rabbit and his foils, Br’er Fox and Br’er Bear.

Drama ensues when Johnny feuds with two poor neighbor boys and develops friendships with their sister, Ginny. He also bonds with Toby, a young black boy who lives on the plantation.

Thunderous applause must go to the creative minds who thought of mixing the animations with the live-action drama, resulting in positive and compelling effects.

As Uncle Remus repeatedly embarks on a new story for Johnny to listen to, the audience knows they will be transported into a magical land of make-believe as a precise lesson results from these stories.

Uncle Remus is an inspiring character- it is rare to find a black character written this way in 1946. Often, black characters were reduced to maids, butlers, farmhands, or other servant roles.

While the film does not stray from the course by casting many of these roles, including Uncle Remus himself, his character is different because he is beloved by little Johnny, respected by the grandmother, and treated as part of the family. His opinion counts for something and is not merely dismissed as rubbish.

The musical soundtrack to Song of the South is particularly cheery and easy to hum along to. The most recognizable song is “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah,” which recurs several times throughout the feature. The best rendition is at the end, when the mix of live-action and animation culminates with the sing-along.

My favorite appearance is when the “bluebird” referenced in the lyric comes into play, resting on one character’s shoulder, true to the lyrical content.

The accusations of racism are justified as keen viewers will understand the condescension towards blacks in several scenes.

More than once, a parade of black people is seen traipsing through the plantation, singing songs, not precisely cheerfully but not despondent.

The scenes have eerie slavery overtones- despite the black character’s all presumably being free to come and go, the reality is they all work for white folk. The black plight and struggle are completely sugar-coated and dismissed.

The animated characters are voiced by strong ethnic voices and are presumed to be ridiculous. The usage of a Tar-Baby character, ultimately enshrined in black tar, seems offensive, almost teetering on the implication of promoting a blackface minstrel show moment as the character, once white, is then turned black because of the tar.

Song of the South is not the only film of its time to face racist accusations- the enormous Gone with the Wind (1939) and Jezebel (1938) faced similar heat.

Song of the South (1946) is recommended for those who recognize the existing racism and appreciate the film’s artistic merits. Wise and resounding friendships between white and black characters are evident, and it is a lovely story about determination, fairness, and respect.

The film should be treasured for its lovely moments and scolded for racist overtones.

Oscar Nominations: 1 win-Best Original Song-“Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah” (won)

2018 Films, Drama

Welcome to Marwen-2018

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Welcome to Marwen-2018

Director Robert Zemeckis

Starring Steve Carell, Leslie Mann

Scott’s Review #892

Reviewed May 1, 2019

Grade: B

Welcome to Marwen (2018) is a feature film that flew under the radar at the time of release, suffering from mostly poor, if not scathing, reviews.

Having debuted in the last quarter of the year, the anticipation was assuredly for Oscar love, but this was not to be, as the film was a box office and critical disappointment.

Despite a marvelous and sympathetic portrayal by Steve Carell and bold creativity in the animation, the film lags and misfires in the storytelling, never completely coming together despite a heartfelt effort.

Based on a powerful true story chronicled much better in documentary form, the film follows Mark Hogancamp (Carell), a man struggling with post-traumatic stress syndrome after being physically assaulted.

He creates a fictional village to deal with his violent trauma as a form of escapism. Mark teeters between fantasy and reality as his various action figures mirror both himself and other people in his life, from the benevolent – his pretty new next-door neighbor, Nicol (Leslie Mann) – to the malicious – his attackers.

Director Zemeckis is no stranger to cool and innovative visual effects. Having created films like Back to the Future (1985), Death Becomes Her (1992), and Forrest Gump (1994), his track record is proven.

Though far from a masterpiece, Welcome to Marwen’s most outstanding achievement is its look, with stunning and realistic figurines coming to life with splendid effect.

The modified fashion dolls are morphed into action heroes, livening up the film and making it a spectacle compared to the morose everyday life that Mark lives in.

As Mark frequently escapes into his soothing, self-created fantasy world, named Marwen, the mostly female characters are strong, resilient, and protective of him. He even embarks on a fantasy romance with Nicol and faces both sweet moments with her as well as a peril from Nazis.

The negative to the fantasy sequences is in the climax, as Zemeckis teeters too broadly towards a full-fledged action film with over-the-top segments and an overly lengthy battle scene.

The real-life scenes don’t work as well, as Mark’s small-town residence is gloomy and depressing, offering little interest. Presumed to be two hours outside of New York City, the reason Nicol moves to the town is never explained, and her true intentions remain mysterious.

The presence of her aggressive ex-boyfriend seems forced, and Mark’s romantic interest in her becomes awkward. The main drawback is a lack of romantic chemistry between Carell and Mann, which results in little reason to root for the pair to be together.

The film contains an admirable progressive slant as Mark, while straight in his sexuality, is enamored with women’s shoes and collects hundreds of sensible and erotic pairs.

The key to his attack as briefly shown via flashback is his boasting to redneck types while inebriated, his love of the shoes. This plot point is essential to the film, yet not fleshed out well. What do we know about his attackers? Did they assume Mark was gay, prompting the attack?

Since the attack is deemed a hate crime, we can only assume the answer is yes, but I had hoped for a bit more depth and more about Mark’s backstory.

Based on the 2010 documentary Marwencol, Welcome to Marwen (2018) is a production that asks the viewer to revel in a wonderful fantasy world and marvel at the resulting creativity, escaping into a life-like adventure zone.

The story remains uneven with a bandied-about romance that never comes together, uneven storytelling, and a mediocre conclusion. While I admire Welcome to Marwen’s intentions, the film ultimately falls short of delivering.