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.
What is there to say about an icon like John Carpenter? An auteur with the skill to make dynamic features with a minuscule budget, his film Halloween majorly influenced the slasher sub-genre (along with gialli, and other movies such as Peeping Tom, Psycho, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Black Christmas). One of the most prolific horror filmmakers since the 1970s, he followed up the October 31st related motion picture with titles like The Fog, The Thing, Christine, They Live, amongst many others, whilst he has branched out into other genres with films like Assault on Precinct 13 (action), Escape From New York and its sequel Escape From L.A. (sci-fi action), Starman (a sci-fi romance), and Big Trouble in Little China (an action adventure comedy).
With the “based on real events” thing getting a bit old, some recent films have started to have fun with this oft-used opening – American Hustle introed with “Some of this actually happened”, while today’s film, Doug Liman’s American Made, was described by the director as “a fun lie based on a true story”. . . a clever way to accentuate the addition of many fictional plot points to enrich the narrative. Tom Cruise plays Barry Seal, a seemingly staid airplane pilot secretly looking for a thrill in his exhausting, routine-driven life. Married to Lucy (Sarah Wright), they have what a traditionalist would coin – the middle class dream – family, home, and solid income. Yet, a well informed CIA agent, Monty ‘Schafer’ (Domhnall Gleeson), tracks Barry down at the end of one of his flights – it does not take much to convince the pilot to sign up, and he is soon working questionable missions for the agency all over Central America.
Tackling Raymond Chandler’s1953 novel “The Long Goodbye” (which features detective Philip Marlowe) in a unique way, director Robert Altman decided to, “call him Rip Van Marlowe, and we took the position that he had been asleep for twenty years, woke up, and Elliott [Gould] just wandered through that film. . . and that was our idea – that he was wandering through this landscape, the film trying to invoke the morals of a previous time into this early seventies.” Set exactly twenty years after the novel’s release date, detective Philip Marlowe (Gould) awakes in the middle of the night from a deep sleep – voice raspy, five o’clock shadow quickly moving onto six. . . a man in an endless stupor. His retro suits, skinny ties and constant smoking are out of place, much like his 1948 Cabriolet Lincoln Continental Convertible – a gent who is undoubtably from another time (even his salary closely resembles what a detective would make in the late 40s or early 50s).
In this era of female empowerment, a name from the past that must be highlighted is Dorothy Arzner. Starting as a typist in the film business for director William C. de Mille (the older brother of Cecil), less than a year later, she had worked her way up to screenwriter, soon after, promoted to editor. Editing star Rudolph Valentino’s Blood and Sand, her impressive skill was immediately evident. Continuing to do stellar work, she eventually threatened to move from Paramount to rival Columbia if not given a directorial job, the studio conceding in 1927. The only major female director in Hollywood during its “Golden Age”, she was able to transition from silent films to talkies (the first female director to make one), and, while filming 1929's The Wild Party, is credited with essentially developing the first boom mike – some say it was to help star Clara Bow get over her fear of talking on camera, others to end her frustration of always having to hide a microphone in one spot on set. . . in any case, she had technicians rig a microphone onto a fishing rod, solving the problem (and, though she did not patent the idea, Edmund H. Hansen did one year later, she is credited with its invention).
Sometimes, you need luck on your side. As you can probably imagine, many of the celebrity interviews I conduct are arranged well in advance. . . though, not always. A prime example of said luck, as I attended a National Hockey League game a few months back, I just happened to bump into the one and only Alex Trebek. A man who definitely does not need an introduction, he has hosted one of the most popular game shows in the history of television – Jeopardy, since its revival in 1984 (when it became a daily syndicated show). . . he has also emceed many others, including High Rollers and Classic Concentration, to name but a few. So popular in fact, Trebek was spoofed for years by Will Ferrell on Saturday Night Live (always the butt end of one of Darrell Hammond’s Sean Connery puns/gags about his mother).
Perhaps the end of something very special. . . that is, if Daniel Day-Lewis does follow through and retire from acting after his most recent lauded performance in Paul Thomas Anderson’s Academy Award Best Picture nominee Phantom Thread. It is this nuanced role that will bookend a career that has consisted of six deserving nominations and three well earned Oscars (four, if he wins this year). At the heart of this tale of gothic romance (Anderson’s narrative and classic visual aesthetic reminiscent of movies like Rebecca), Reynolds Woodcock (Day-Lewis) is a renowned dressmaker (circa the 1950s), a man who, like his flawlessly tailored clothing (he hides secrets in the work), expects everything to be just perfect. He is peculiar in his cleanliness and rigidity – every hair in its place, absolute quiet at breakfast (his entire day ruined if his stringent routine interrupted). . . obsessive in every which way, including in that he is still haunted by the death of his mother. An example of this fiefdom of rules and attitude – after tea is brought to him at the wrong time, he exasperatingly exclaims, “the tea is going out; the interruption is staying right here with me”.