Martyrs of the Alamo, or
“The Birth of Texas”
The event seen on the ground at
San Antonio and San Jacinto.
A critical view of the dictatorship and its mode of
living precedes the action, which is lightly taken on
by the celebrated pioneers.
A vivid, authentic portrayal of the Mexicans rises
from poltroonery under the regime to reluctant manners in the Republic and the
touching sight of Santa Anna’s soldiers doffing their caps to cross
themselves before the battle. The dictator is a memorable figure in Walter Long’s brilliant performance.
It comes now issued with a tedious electronic score
and an even more tedious introduction to a magnificent film throughout.
Flirting with
Fate
The artist in the last extremity is covered with
riches and glory and success, moreover his enemy is a convert.
The World Gone
Mad
“Corporation looting” is the racket,
one way to get rid of a district attorney is to murder and discredit him, in
that order.
“Pyramiding” is the other side of the
coin, no businessman worth a dime would be involved, there’s one here
that isn’t.
“Falsified statements” are the blanket
that covers all, at least until the final scene, in which a fast-talking
reporter kept off the front page by the closemouthed district attorney winds up
at the church with no pants on.
Mordaunt Hall (New
York Times) considered it “implausible” and unsuited to the
season, Easter 1933.
Night Spot
A case for Jules Dassin (The Naked City) and Gordon Parks (The Super Cops).
Hidden mikes on the nightclub tables, hidden cops
on the bandstand, “there’s no rest for the honest.”
“Something tells me we’re not very
bright.”
“Trying to double-do me, huh?”
The innocent chanteuse thinks the boss is getting a
bum deal.
Van Nest
Polglase sets, Renié gowns, Nicholas Musuraca cinematography.
“What a dope I am!”
“As a policeman, I’m a swell
saxophone-player.”
The Mummy’s
Hand
Cabanne is a
great master of his craft, the significant preparations for filming include the
choice of actors in three main groups, Eduardo Ciannelli
and George Zucco for the father-and-son high priests,
of course, but then Dick Foran and Wallace Ford as
the archæologist and his assistant, finally and most remarkably Cecil Kellaway as the Brooklyn magician Solvani
and Peggy Moran as his daughter in Vera West costumes to draw away the small
role to a central position with the rest.
Kharis is summoned with tanna
leaves to punish defilers of the temple, “gray
streaks on the throat” are his mark. August Wilson in Fences remembers
the pivotal joke, Andoheb
wants the girl for himself. J. Lee Thompson in Firewalker has a
variation (remade as Aaron Norris’s Hellbound).
Woody Allen seems to recall it here and there, The Purple Rose of Cairo,
Scoop etc.
In the Valley of
the Jackals, the dilapidated Temple of Isis atop the Hill of the Seven Jackals
is entered by Kharis with Marta unconscious in his
arms right, the camera pulls back to include his progress left and reveal the
immensity of the interior, the camera moves forward at a slight down-angle to Andoheb and the altar where Marta is strapped down.
The tale of Kharis and the late Princess Ananka
is a vision in a bowl revealed by flashback, Tom Tyler
hews closely to Karloff’s performance and looks
ahead to Christopher Lee.
The Museum of
Manhattan has a job in the back for the down-at-heels archæologist, Andoheb is on the staff of the Cairo Museum, Solvani finances the expedition.
The
assistant’s mind is not on the work, a “blonde from Brooklyn”
won’t write him. “Won’t,” asks the archæologist,
“or can’t?”