A Pre-Code romantic crime drama from Columbia Pictures, 1932's Virtue, directed by Edward Buzzell, got off to a bit of a bumpy start... for when star Carole Lombard (on loan from Paramount) met studio president Harry Cohn (known to be blunt, opinionated, and rather colourful with his language), he told her that her hair was too white – making her look like ‘a whore’. Lombard, no shrinking violet, promptly responded with: “if anyone would know a whore it would be you”. Though the two would soon earn each other’s respect (something that would last for the rest of their lives), this really is a perfect story that exemplifies the edgy themes and style found in these Pre-Code movies. Opening with a black screen that hides the visuals of a criminal sentence, a Judge rather kindly orders several prostitutes to vacate the city, but if they return, they shall be punished to the full extent of the law.
Alfonso Cuarón’s most personal film to date (even more so than Y Tu Mamá También), 2018's Roma seeps to the screen from the filmmaker’s own memories. . . a love letter to his beloved housekeeper who helped raise him in the neighbourhood of Roma in Mexico City all those years ago. His first Netflix feature, the streaming service gave Cuarón the freedom to create his vision his way. . . with a near limitless shoot time, the man not only directed, but also wrote, produced, co-edited, handled cinematography, and even shot the motion picture. Filmed in striking black and white, it is like seeing the most picturesque of monochrome postcards, but eerily intimate ones.
In my recollection, there has never been an Academy Award Best Picture nominee as contentious as this year’s Bohemian Rhapsody. With issues arising from the onset (supposed disputes during production leading to the film’s director, Bryan Singer, being replaced – Dexter Fletcher took over about two thirds of the way through, though Singer still holds the credit of director), it has since received mixed reviews from critics (with a measly 62% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes – extremely low for a Best Picture nominee), yet has been a huge box office success (already having earned over 800 million dollars, most fans have loved it, though there are a vocal group of naysayers). . . the most recent twist – the movie surprisingly took home Best Motion Picture - Drama at the Golden Globes, placing it in a rather intriguing position leading into the upcoming Oscars. A last note, a scene from the film with rather excessive editing has been spreading around the internet (look it up to get an idea of some peoples’ thoughts). The tale of the iconic rock band Queen, the narrative begins all the way back in 1970, wrapping at the band’s Live Aid performance in 1985. The biopic delves into all of the areas one would expect. . . the formation of the group, consisting of singer Freddie Mercury (Rami Malek), guitarist Brian May (Gwilym Lee), bassist John Deacon (Joseph Mazzello), and drummer Roger Taylor (Ben Hardy), their unique and unified way of making music, their dealings with their manager, John Reid (Aiden Gillen), lawyer, Jim Beach (Tom Hollander), record executive (Mike Myers – a nice casting touch, considering the classic Bohemian Rhapsody scene found in Wayne’s World), as well as groupies, their meteoric rise, subsequent trials and tribulations, and of course, the love that grows and fades, as well as the hate and disdain that builds up over the years (after all, what do you expect when rock star egos are involved?).
A film that gives you an excellent idea of how partying has changed, and not, 1932's Hot Saturday, directed by William A. Seiter, is an American pre-Code motion picture that pushed the moral boundaries of the time, or as the tagline put it, “They called me ‘BAD’_ So I tried to live up to my name!”. Following Ruth Brock (Nancy Carroll) , she is a young bank teller, a working girl and morally-minded flirt – loving daughter of a cigar smoking ne-er-do-well (William Collier Sr.) and a taskmaster of a mother (Jane Darwell). Living in the little locale of Maryville, it is an example of gossipy, small-town America.
“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose.” – Oh, the Places You’ll Go! By Dr. Seuss. A classic tale from the one and only, a positive story often gifted to those who are on their way after graduating. . . but, what happens if you take the wrong path, or as the master word twister so cheekily put it, “You can get so confused that you’ll start in a race down long wiggled roads at a break-neck pace and grind on for miles cross weirdish wild space, head, I fear, toward a most useless place. . .”, or, as the title of today’s short film puts it, I Will Crush You and Go to Hell (2016). Co-written and directed by the team of Fabio Soares and Célia Paysan, the twenty-two minute short is actually, in essence, a back door pilot used as a teaser in order to make a feature length film (full warning, no ending as of yet).
A Christmas movie that is truly special has that moment. . . that specific sequence magically able to transcend the medium – enlivening our spirits, touching our hearts, rejuvenating the soul. . . a bell ringing – it giving an angel its wings; a humbug of a man able to get another chance at really living life; a family, despite all odds, getting home to their young son that has been left home alone; and, in today’s film, though the ending could arguably be it, a woman brings her newly adopted (orphaned) Dutch daughter to see Santa Claus at the mall, as the little girl truly believes she will be able to speak to him – her mother, knowing that he can’t speak the language, is gobsmacked when he starts to talk to her – bringing so much joy to her cherub-like face. Of course, you’ve probably guessed it, I am referencing George Seaton’s 1947 classic Miracle on 34th Street (he both writes and directs). After a drunk Santa is removed from his post during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade thanks to the complaint of Kris Kringle (Edmund Gwenn – winning an Oscar for the role), methodical event director Doris Walker (Maureen O’Hara) asks the man to don the suit – filmed during the actual parade.
Arguably one of the most scandalous narratives to come out of the pre-code era, Alfred E. Green’s notorious 1933 romantic drama Baby Face was one of the films that was so very controversial that it ended up giving the Motion Picture Production Code (Hays Code) its bite – the reigning moral guide for the next thirty plus years. With a story from Darryl F. Zanuck (yes, the powerhouse studio head of 20th Century Fox – written under his pseudonym, Mark Canfield), the story follows Lily Powers (Barbara Stanwyck), aptly described by the bawdy tagline – “she had it and made it pay”.