Reviews

Glorious Betsy's only reason for its production and our reason to watch, is the beauty of Dolores Costello. The plot is exceeding simple. In the old South, Betsy, the daughter of a wealthy plantation owner, has a French teacher (Conrad Nagle) she is sweet on, but because of the difference in their stations, romance is impossible. Nagle shows his true spirit when challenged to a rapier duel with John Miljan, and easily defeats him. You see, Nagle is Jerome, the brother of Napoleon, for some reason hiding in America. News comes to Nagle that he is expected to appear at a gala in Baltimore. Naturally, he doesn't want to leave until he finds that the gala is being given by Betsy's father. Betsy asks Jerome to come with her, but he demurs. She is insulted. At the gala, Jerome arrives in secret, his uniform covered by a cloak. He gets Betsy out on the terrace, where they declare their love for one another. He asks her to marry him that night, and she consents. He then appears as Napoleon's brother, where he is feted. He announces that he and Betsy will be married. Almost immediately, a letter arrives from France, demanding his return so that he can marry the Princess of Wittenburg to cement relations with France. He returns, but with Betsy. They meet Napoleon on board ship at the harbor, where he convinces Betsy that she must give up Jerome for the good of France. She tearfully agrees. With the promise that she will join him tomorrow, the brothers leave the ship. The ship immediate returns to America, with the pregnant Betsy in mourning. Jerome is held captive until Napoleon manages to obtain an annulment. Jerome is sent to Wittenberg, but he never arrives. Instead, he joins Betsy in Baltimore, and they happily ever after.

Warner Brothers pulled out all the stops for this A production. Lots of giant sets, augmented by glass shots, and many extras. It was produced both in silent and part talkie versions. The version available is the latter, but with the sound disks missing. Apparently, there are only two talking sequences: when letter arrives from Napoleon; and the final scenes, where the slaves are singing, the Mammy is talking to Betsy, and Jerome arrives. Probably more were planned. Nagle was a Voice, but hardly a masculine hero, with lots of scenes, and John Miljan, another Voice, played the villain. The intertitles in the first reel are almost impossible to read. If they were re-done, and intertitles created for the talking parts, a serviceable film could be salvaged.

The film is replete with love scenes, with Costello lovingly photographed. Nagle is adequate as her lover. Close-ups of them kissing, silent style, could easily make up a quarter of the film. The film does flow well, however, aided my the high production values. Worth watching for Costello, and for those interested in the transition from silent to sound.

I'm reading a biography of Disraeli, so I thought I'd dig out the film to watch again. While the screen play uses the basics of the Suez Canal episode as a starting point, like so many film biographies, it plays fast and loose with the truth.

Disraeli's wife had died several years before. There was no intrigue with Russia. The race to buy the company shares was to beat out two French consortiums. As it turned out, the French couldn't raise the money, so the race was unnecessary. The purchase of the Khedive's shares gave the English only 44% of the shares, but did prevent a French monopoly. By international agreement, ships of all nations could use the canal, despite who owned the shares, but the purchase did insure that the French couldn't meddle unchecked. And Queen Victoria wasn't named Empress of India until two years later.

That said, George Arliss is marvelous in an old fashioned play, that is made more old fashioned by the limitations of early sound. It positively creaks. Joan Benet is ravishing in a second lead part. Too bad they didn't give her more closeups, but that is remedied by watching Moby Dick (1930). I like Disraeli more as a cultural artifact than as a film. In another ten years , I may watch it again.

Love Bound is a typical B picture from poverty row. The cast is impressive - names of has-beens slogging along with whatever work they could get. Natalie Moorhead and Jack Mulhall top the bill. Moorhead was a femme fatale in early sound, whose work I could never comprehend. She wasn't beautiful and couldn't act. Mulhall was too old for the role. The directing by Robert Hill was uninspired, as you would expect of a poverty row B western director who was paid to do things fast and cheap. The plot didn't make much sense. Somehow, the vamp fell in love with the fake servant after hardly any interaction with him. The vamp's emotions seemed to flip from moment to moment, which made her change to "face" unbelievable. As she walks off into the dark, I felt sure she would change her mind again by morning. The rented sets of the apartments were excellent, but the boat sets were so small they had to be used ad nauseam.

I watched the film particularly to see Richard Alexander. He is listed far down in the cast credits, even though he has the third most time on screen. Alexander worked in big films in late silents and early sound, working for De Mille, Keaton, Murnau, Milestone, and Niblo. But by 1933 he was a B western henchman for the rest of his 300 film career. I always wondered why. Now I know. In this big role, which requires a lot of exposition, he just can't act. And his weight gain leaves him a hulk, rather than a hail fellow well met. Too bad. Now he's only remembered (when remembered at all) for his Prince Barin role in the Flash Gordon serials.

The Johnstown Flood recently became available on YouTube in a rather poor 16 mm print, with the last few minutes missing. The plot is standard for the period, raised above the usual fare by the A picture quality. I watched it to see Janet Gaynor in what was claimed to be her star making role. Certainly, she looks cute, and emoted appealingly, but third billed, she has much less screen time than Florence Gilbert. Almost all the characters lack depth except she and George O'Brien.. The logging scenes were genuine and interesting. Of course, the special effects of the flood were the reason for watch the film. They were of the same high quality as The Trail of 98 (1928), with persons being mowed under by water and logs. The matted scene of the water flowing through the town was as good as when water roars down Times Square in When Worlds Collide (1951). I was disappointed in the extent of Gaynor's appearance, but I assume that the missing footage showed she was the real love of O'Brien, and sparks flew. If so, this was the reason for their re-teaming in Sunrise (1927)

I agree with the majority of reviewers that Murnau took a hackneyed story, but by virtue of his direction and sense of the potential of the medium, produced a memorable and beautiful film. The character I remembered most from my first viewing was Richard Alexander, whose naturalness stood out from some of the overplaying of the leads. Upon watching it again, I was surprised that he wasn't listed in the opening titles, despite the fact that he probably had the third most screen time.

To me, it seems obvious that Guinn Williams was supposed to have this role. He played the amoral, genial villain in Lucky Star (1928), and was Fox's natural pick for the villain here. I think Murnau found out early in the filming that Williams was unsuited for the role of immoral, conniving rapist. As in some films of the period (The Public Enemy comes to mind) it wasn't unusual for roles to be switched if the lead was found wanting. The choice of Alexander was perfect. How it came about would be an interesting story.

We've been watching Murdoch Mysteries since year one. We love the intricate plots, amazing inventions, that the series accurately follows the history of Toronto, and the guest historical figures. However, season 13 is a great disappointment. All of the above has been sacrificed for soapy interpersonal relationships. In episode 9, Constable Crabtree continues to sneak into his girlfriend's apartment for sex. Detective Watts continues to sneak into his boyfriend's apartment for sex. But now they find those apartments are just down the hall of an apartment house! Dr. Ogden performs a mercy killing, without any regard to how this will affect her marriage to the staunch Catholic, Detective Murdoch. Meanwhile, the mystery is whether a few dollars was stolen from a lock box. That's it; I'm not watching Murdoch any more.

I watched Dr. Mabuse again after about 10 years. I hadn't remembered much of it, except the extraordinary sets. To put this review in perspective, I have hundreds of silents. I find that, with few exceptions, pre-1925 films are not as good as 1925+. But I respect the work gone into them, and am not turned off by the crudity of most. That said, I found the sets, acting, and cinematography to be excellent. However, the screen play was more than absurd, it was downright ludacris. Mabuse needlessly complicated every action. And with his powers, he could have attained domination without a single plot line. Anyone with a keen eye could have seen though his disguises; his eyes and build never changed. That makes his opponent pretty dense. Mabuse's minions were limited to a sorry lot. One would think he could command armies if he desired. The pace was glacial; at best it is a 2-hour film. The editing left much to be desired. Flipping between stories was not well done. It left me wondering what was going on.

Apparently, other film makers watched the film with interest. The gun battle in The Man Who Knew Too Much (1936) seems a direct copy. The woman's bed could have influenced Phantom of the Opera (1925). And, of course, all the Bond villains.

All together, Mabuse is a striking, innovative film that misses the mark.

I watched this film only because Egon Brecher was in it. As a pleasant surprise, so was Dwight Frye. Brecher appeared almost unnoticed in many classic horror films: The Black Cat, The Werewolf on London, The Black Room, The Devil Doll, and Mark of the Vampire. His secret was two-fold: he is ordinary looking, and has different makeup in each role. Here he is a murderous scientist with thick glasses. In other roles he has sported wigs and various style mustaches. Over his career, his English improved to be almost without an accent, so finding him by voice is also difficult.

I enjoyed the film. Unlike other reviewers, I though this was C. Henry Gordon's finest role. His cool evil is more affecting than when he shouts and leers in other films. Usually, when I see Herbert Mundin in the cast, I shrivel a bit; his comic characters ruin virtually every film he's in. Here he's a pleasant surprise, as an effective sidekick. Alan Marshall is an stalwart but human hero, an excellent foil for Gordon. A lot of the dialog reminds me of James Bond films. The actresses aren't very well fleshed out, but who cares? Despite a lack of action, the plot is exciting, and the villain's demise quite satisfactory. The only problem was the quality of the print. Quite a few splices make the dialog jumpy. Other than that, a satisfactory experience.

I didn't know A Game of Death existed until recently. I tried to watch it on YouTube, but all that popped up was 1932's Most Dangerous Game. There was a colorized version available, so I thought I'd watch this old favorite. Good thing, too. Because this morning I found the 1945 version. Having seen the two films, basically back to back, it gave me chance to compare them.

Game of Death is, through it's first third, an almost scene for scene copy of Dangerous Game. It then diverges until the final third, when it returns to the old plot. Virtually every external shot is taken from the original: the sinking of the model ship, including the view from the bridge, the persons diving into the water, and except for the new captain, Jason Robards, all of the folks eaten by sharks. Finally, it's Joel McCrea staggering ashore. At the castle we meet Nobel Johnson, now a pirate, but a cossack in 1932. The early Johnson lets the dogs loose, and dies in Fog Hollow, while the 1945 Johnson is at the other end of the hollow. Too bad they didn't try split screen. Only one dog is used in the new version; the dog pack is entirely 1932. The heroine has long blond hair, a big mistake. In one scene in the hollow, and another where the couple escape, it is clearly dark, short haired Fay Wray. The excellent waterfall sequence in 1932 is absent in 1945; it would have cost too much to duplicate.

Now, as to the 1945 version, the castle set is well designed, and probably used the doors from 1932. Lighting is flat, however. The direction of Robert Wise is adequate, along with the principal players. The 1932 Leslie Banks' Zaroff was better done, but the 1945 brother was much better than the awful drunk act of Robert Armstrong. The jungle set was excellent, but far less extensive than the 1932. Max Steiner's score should have been re-used; the 1945 one is only adequate.

In spite of all this, the film had its exciting moments, and, if seen without the original would fare much better for lack of comparison. The use of old footage makes the film look much bigger; an excellent example going cheap invisibly.

I had seen this film perhaps 50 years ago, and remembered it fondly. Seeing it today, I realize just how good it is. The plot, acting, animal work, and cinematography are superior. It is the better than any Tarzan film with the possible exception of Tarzan and His Mate. Certainly Crabbe looks better than Weissmuller, is a far better actor, and takes more risks with the animals. There is some doubling, of course, but the stunt man is a much better match than in the Tarzans. The animal work is truly exciting, both in Africa and America. The climatic scenes of the animals and people interacting in the fire is astounding. Certainly, it couldn't be made today.

I appreciated that Crabbe's Casper is intelligent. In the first Tarzan book, Tarzan learns French, and in the second, English. MGM probably, wisely, decided Weissmuller wasn't up to the challenge. In sum, Crabbe is in every way superior: looks, acting, stunts. He is surrounded by an excellent cast, as strong as any A picture Paramount would mount. The locations are believable, and photographed to advantage. In all, this is an excellent production, one that deserves a much wider audience.

Stunting has come a long way since Arizona Express was made. Although the extraordinarily dangerous stunts are faked, the merely very dangerous ones are real. And the stars do much of their own. Jumping on a train from the top of a tunnel, exchanging a captive at speed between a train and car, running on car roofs, climbing on car sides, etc., most while the train travels along cliff edges, gives the film a thrill missing from Avengers-type films.

The story is basically the last portion of Intolerance, speeding to save the wrongly accused from execution. The acting is only pro forma, and overacted, even for the period. But the tension - will our heroine get there in time - is immensely heightened by the real danger. See it for the stunts.

None of the previous reviewers seem to have noticed the real similarity between 6 Hours and The Walking Dead (Boris Karloff 1936). Both Baxter and Karloff are innocents who are killed, resuscitated in a modernistic laboratory, know things no human should know, revenge their deaths, and die peacefully. The major difference is that 6 Hours is played for romance, while Walking Dead, for horror. Not to say 6 Hours doesn't have horror touches, but these are subservient to the story. This is a first class production, with the best revival chamber of the 1930s. The actors are excellent. The story is slow and the cinematography tries too hard to be spiritualistic, instead becoming difficult to see. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a direct link between the screen plays of the two films.

The 1945 version of Enchanted Cottage is my favorite romantic film. It is far superior to the 1924 in almost every way. While Barthlemess and McAvoy are wonderful, and equal to the 1945, the remaining characters aren't fleshed out well. As others have noted, the ghosts are a distraction. The sets were cheaply done and too dark to see detail. Perhaps the quality of the print was responsible. The couple don't complete their ceremony by writing on the window, the significant aspect of the story. And the story ends with them seeing each other as perfect. But they must still hide away. The 1945 version adds a postscript, showing that the couple now believe that others see them that way, a much more satisfying conclusion. All that said, I enjoyed the film, and consider it a worthy effort.

This has got to be the most exciting railroad film ever made. The combination of real and model trains,, plus wonderful studio work, mesh beautifully. It's a real thrill ride. But if you're a rail fan, you see gigantic holes that the makers had to gloss over. As mentioned by another reviewer, yes, the deadman found in every locomotive would have prevented any of this from happening. The engineer must be sitting with his foot on a a switch before the engine can be started, and if he takes his foot off while running, the train goes into emergency braking. This is not only the application of brakes but the motors act like a car downshifting (dynamic braking) to further slow it. To make matters worse, the whole train ride could have been prevented if the stowaways had simply uncoupled the last locomotive. Sure the first 3 would need to be derailed, but at no loss of life. Finally, I had an odd feeling that I wasn't watching real trains. Reading the information on IMDb showed I was right. The details were faked to make the Montana and Alaska trains match up. All of this only slightly detracted from my enjoyment of the film.

However, I found all of the characters and their actions not only unbelievable but trite. Compared to the original version of The Taking of Pelham 123 it had the quality of a high school production. Eight stars for the action alone.