Machu Picchu
rises like a metaphor above Cuzco. Four
factors dominate the theme, the enterprise of an honest chevalier d’industrie, the outright thieving of a
“crud”, the good work of a
university-trained museum archæologist, and the love of liberty in an escapee
from the Iron Curtain.
King
Solomon’s Mines is finally
understood to be at the basis of this, as the last scene shows.
A.W. of the New
York Times saw it all before, he thought, but was able to admire the
Peruvian location work and Yma Sumac. Halliwell’s
Film Guide did not get so far.
Randsberg, turn of the century, a place to make one’s
fortune. “You see, it takes a certain talent to
handle money. You might even call it an art.”
The dance hall girl and the senator’s daughter, he’s the bank
president as well.
The Technicolor
compositions by Maury Gertsman on costume and setting and makeup are a delight
in themselves, the weft of the dramatic warp. Fanny and Alexander (dir. Ingmar
Bergman) initiates the third act, nothing less. Respectability,
it’s called. “No decent man can ever be proud of a cheap woman.” So it comes to quibbling over a price,
“I’ve got a lot of dough.” The works
of John Singer Sargent appear to have been consulted. It ends on a windy New
Year’s Eve, in flames, a venture that comes to nothing...
H.H.T. of the New York Times, “suds are suds.” Catholic News Service Media Review Office,
“sudsy”. Leonard Maltin, “standard soaper.” TV Guide, “mounted with a
sincerity that keeps it from degenerating into soap opera.”
Hal Erickson (All Movie Guide),
“produced by Ross Hunter with a veneer of class that the material itself
lacks.” Halliwell’s
Film Guide, “tawdry”.
Preminger’s
The Court-Martial of Billy Mitchell came five months later to analyze
the significance of Hopper’s film, which provides a rigorous summation of
the circumstances and the outcome in quite fictional array, and by a director
whose skill and genius make the grand order of difficulties faced a mere
barcarolle to all appearances.
Bosley Crowther of the New
York Times didn’t understand it at all, of course, and thought it a
“popular” swipe at a military man. Preminger was no help to him, a
whitewash job, thought Crowther.
Heston’s comic gifts went for nothing in Gotham
like the rest of it, but time will tell is the point of both films.
The Sharkfighters
With the Navy in
Cuba to find a repellent for sailors adrift and downed airmen, a 1943 “top
priority”.
“The
passion of the scientist, the precision of the artist” (Nabokov). Among the caimaneros on the Isle of Pines, a youthful longing to be
somebody in Havana driving a machine, mirrored by the Mister Roberts theme.
Lee Garmes entirely on location with CinemaScope and
Technicolor evoking Orson Welles in Brazil (It’s
All True), score Jerome Moross.
Nothing for the critics (“if you like swimming
in polluted water with sharks,” says Albee), “bland”, says Leonard Maltin
dining out, Sandra Brennan (All Movie
Guide) has the plot all wrong, something about “an unscrupulous scientist”.
TV Guide, “not much to get excited
about.” Halliwell’s Film
Guide, “straightforward... suspenseful”.
The Dutch Schultz Story
The
Untouchables
Schultz
is first seen at the height of his power, boss of all rackets in New York. He
blinds a soda-fountain proprietor and policy banker who has accepted Lucky Luciano’s lower price for protection. Mrs. Flegenheimer is in the hospital,
her daughter has just been born.
Flaherty
gets the goods on Schultz’s operation, headquartered in Harlem, by
undercover work. A raid secures evidence for an indictment on charges of income
tax evasion. Schultz offers $75,000 for it.
Schultz
pleads bias (LaGuardia has called him a “dirty rat”, editorials
decry his sway), a trial upstate bogs down in details, Schultz buys favor with
charitable donations all over town. Ness brings in
Schultz’s victims to testify. With the unwitting help of his wife,
Schultz drugs and frames a schoolteacher at a roadhouse. Her uncle is the jury
foreman.
The
judge is shocked and shamed by the verdict. Ness is undaunted, he or Luciano will bring the Dutchman down. The
Italian forces a parley, Schultz is double-crossed and powerless, dies
“by the law of the jungle, in a hail of machine-gun bullets”.
The Case of the Tarnished Trademark
Perry
Mason
Crawford
& Zimm’s King Lear is an answer
to the unposed question of Robert Wise’s Executive Suite, what happens when the financial manager takes over
a manufacturing company, in the person of a villainous con man who delays his
own extinction by speedily running the company into the ground (cp. The Anniversary, dir. Roy Ward Baker)?
A
Danish furniture-maker who has nourished a lifelong dream of founding a
children’s hospital sells his trademark to the villain, and his workshop
as well. In a trice the new owner has the materials degraded, floods the market
at insupportably low prices, and figures to have worn out the trademark in six
months.
He
frames a middleman for his own phony check, allowing the hospital land to be
purchased by another buyer. A rare villain, inside deals are his
stock-in-trade, check-kiting his specialty. A rival for the land puts him under
it.
The Case of the Counterfeit Crank
Perry
Mason
This
is protective coloration partly, by one who knows himself to be sane in a world
gone mad, and interestingly the effect of age on his contemporaries. The young
sharpers he’s in business with don’t see the counterfeit (Mason
does, instantly) but only the crank, “Napoleon B. Santa Claus”,
with no method in his madness. They want a downtown investment in Barlow, money
is missing for the crank’s dream of a city in the desert. He takes refuge
in his seeming folly, but the sheer unthinkable thing happens to him, his
desert property is sold out from under him.
There
are more questions asked in the murder of the embezzler than can be answered
comfortably within a surreal framework, or nearly. Mineral extraction is given
out as the profit motive in the new city, but that is proven to be baseless.
The air force has an eye on the area, a source generating income for a sizable
population. But the crank has plans to donate land to the air force, it was his
nephew who made the sale to cover his own malfeasance.
Not
Napoleon B. Santa Claus, but Uncle Sam.
Day of Reckoning
The
Alfred Hitchcock Hour
It’s almost
like an Ibsen play, but it’s set on a motor yacht for the murder during a
riparian card party. The wife on the afterdeck announces that she’s
leaving the husband for another man, he grapples with her and she is flung
overboard. They’ve been drinking, she can’t swim, in a few seconds
she’s out of view as he stares in a slow realization of his victory.
Hopper sets this up with moonlight, the wife setting the automatic pilot and
admiring the scene and one-second shots deploying her in the water, then puts
the camera on Barry Sullivan in a medium shot for his long take.
The casting is
unusually broad and deep so as to provide a solid weight for what follows.
After the husband artfully covers his tracks by returning to the cabin below
while the yacht continues on and eventually goes aground, the wife is thought
to have fallen over the side, a search is made and there is an official
investigation. The husband’s insane jealousy carries him through this,
he’s trying to find the other man, perhaps the golf pro who’s been
their houseguest, no, it’s the judge who tells investigators he saw it
all from the cabin, no harm was done by the husband to the wife during their
conversation. The judge isn’t under oath and couldn’t see anything,
but he doesn’t want to allow a man he takes to be innocent to suffer
needlessly a routine police interrogation.
At length, the
husband resolves to confess his crime. He tells his family and friends, but
they won’t hear of it. He’s suffering delusions brought on by grief
and a misplaced sense of guilt. They have a reputation to uphold and a standing
in the community that he would jeopardize by going to the police with such a
story, they tell him.
He escapes from
their constant attentions and makes a confession to the authorities, who
disbelieve him. He is committed by his family and friends to a mental asylum.
Under Hopper’s
direction, Sullivan reveals or fabricates in moments of stress a style founded
on Humphrey Bogart that is fascinating to watch. The cast includes Claude
Akins, Dee Hartford, Hugh Marlowe, Katharine Bard, Jeremy Slate and Louis
Hayward.
The Case of the Avenging Angel
Perry
Mason
This beautiful
composition by Lawrence Louis Goldman is laid out with an unusual clarity in
some aspects, notably in the red herrings, so as to trump more effectively
certain twinnings and mirror effects that dissolve when looked at
directly—and Hopper’s direction is exactly to the mark, floating a
line that stays steady while the action seethes or recedes, a sort of
unblinking study well-suited to a tale of show business.
A wealthy man
silently promotes his English son’s career as a pop star, not having
known of the boy’s existence previously thanks to the mother’s
secretiveness. The hired manager is a blackmailing tyrant whose assistant and
the patron’s wife are both having affairs with, the musical side of the
business is ruthlessly exploited, and the nightclub owner who gave the boy his
break is cut out.
One of the many
feints has the wife a suspect in the murder of the manager by dint of jealousy
over the decades-old English tryst, to frame the boy, but she reveals her true
involvement on the witness stand contrarily “to save her husband’s
son”.
The Case of the Crafty Kidnapper
Perry
Mason
George
Stevens’ Penny Serenade gets orchestrated by William Bast in such
a way as to promulgate Graham Greene’s eight Japanese gentlemen and wind
up on the other side of Preminger’s Bunny Lake Is Missing.
Danny Shine knows
all about everything, he is silenced before his column can go to print. A
subordinate is tried, the boss’s infant son has been kidnapped.
All of this
hugger-mugger has to do with a single multiplied image of chicanery and
deception at the Globe News Syndicate.