The front door to an apartment swings open... an unseen figure walks through the living area and approaches a beautiful blonde woman wearing a robe as she walks around the bathroom... he then deliberately empties the barrel of his revolver into her – this is the jarring cold opening to the film noir Illegal (1955), and one thing is for sure, it knows how to grab your attention. Funnily enough, this was the third adaptation of the 1929 play “The Mouthpiece” by Frank J. Collins, following Mouthpiece (1932) and The Man Who Talked Too Much (1940) – and they say movies are remade too much today. Flash to Victor Scott (Edward G. Robinson), a district attorney who is wise to all the angles and is graced with a silver tongue. With an unyielding desire to win (he got it from growing up and fighting his way out of the slums), he argues every case like it is his last.
An unbelievable look back at 1920's New York City, Harold Lloyd’s final silent feature, 1928's Speedy, depicts The Big Apple in all of its hopeful Jazz Age glory. Featuring mind-boggling action and footage shot around the city, including old Yankee Stadium, down Broadway at beautiful Bowling Green, Coney Island in all of its former glory (Luna Park is on full display – it was ravaged by fire in 1944 and closed for good in 1946), Union Square in Manhattan, a ridiculous stunt in Washington Square Park as well as under the Brooklyn Bridge, and so many other places, it is a sweeping look at a city that has changed so very much over the ninety years since it was filmed there. The portion set near Sheridan Square in Greenwich Village (which is actually mostly an intricate set that Lloyd built in Hollywood), features a slower paced part of the city. With it having the last remaining horse-drawn streetcar route remaining, it highlights the final place in the metropolitan that has not been replaced by the hustle and bustle of the modern age. The streetcar owner is Pop Dillon (Bert Woodruff), whose granddaughter is Jane (Ann Christy), a young woman who is dating the job hunting Harold ‘Speedy’ Swift (Lloyd) – an ardent Yankees fan.
Alfred Hitchcock once said "if it’s a good movie, the sound could go off and the audience would still have a perfectly clear idea of what was going on". A perfect example of this is the first sixteen minutes of the 1972 action film The Mechanic. Directed by Michael Winner and starring Charles Bronson (the pair, who had made one film previously, would go on to make a total of six together), the plot follows an aging hit-man in Los Angeles. The opening sixteen minutes is a masterclass in patience, restraint and telling a visual story, without any dialogue. We watch as the man, named Arthur Bishop, intricately plans his next kill. No dialogue is needed to make this an effective scene, as it captures a tense atmosphere and places us in the mind set of our lead, as we now know that he has a deft touch at killing and is not to be messed with. It is a bold choice to open a movie and it is all the richer for it.
Perhaps more relevant today than it was when it was released, Hal Ashby’s 1979 feature film Being There, based on Jerzy Kosinski’s 1970 novel of the same name (he also wrote the screenplay), speaks to the fickleness of fame – how, by random happenstance, one can be projected into a position of power and ‘celebrity’. Some time back, I spoke to actress Hayley Atwell. A major player in the Marvel universe, she has starred as Peggy Carter in four films, including Captain America: The First Avenger and its 2014 sequel. This spawned the critically acclaimed series Agent Carter, which sadly got cancelled after two seasons. Currently starring on the ABC show Conviction, the British star has also appeared in excellent smaller movies like 2012's The Sweeney and 2008's The Duchess, as well as the entertaining mini-series The Pillars of the Earth. When I posed my favourite question to her (i.e. her favourite film), she had two prompt responses. Speaking of her love of Bette Davis, it is fitting that one of her top films was All About Eve, mostly due to the superb performance from the iconic actress. Secondly, she spoke of the above mentioned Being There. Stating that she loved the book, she originally knew nothing about there being a movie. When she finally saw it, like the novel, it stuck with her, including Peter Sellers’ amazing portrayal as the lead character, making it one of her all-time favourites.
"Grand Hotel. . . always the same. People come, people go. Nothing ever happens". But we know this is not so. The winner of Best Picture at the 1932 Academy Awards (the only film to ever win the big prize without being nominated for any other Oscar), Grand Hotel is the first film to ever bring together a who’s who cast to create an ensemble. Breaking the mould, where studios would have had only one or two of their stars in a single film (to cut down on costs as well as avoid strife), MGM united five of their top actors. The iridescent Greta Garbo plays Grusinskaya, a temperamental prima ballerina who is depressed and disillusioned, feeling like her best days are behind her. The versatile John Barrymore plays the Baron, a man who, despite his aristocratic title, has fallen on hard times, desperate for money.
There is a scene about a quarter of the way into Elia Kazan’s Viva Zapata! where our protagonist, Emiliano Zapata (Marlon Brando), has been arrested for attempting to save the life of a peasant who has been unlawfully arrested. Failing, a number of the impoverished, who witnessed the attempt, plead for Zapata to hide in one of their homes. Moving on, he is soon arrested, and the villagers clap with whatever they have in their reach; working tools, rocks or any other implements, as a way to show their support for the hero as he is ushered away. As the officers transport the man through the wilderness, people pour out of the mountainous forest – soon, droves are leading, following and walking beside the police procession. Eventually overwhelmed by the masses, they free the man, aware that they will never be able to manage the united crowd. It is this scene that perhaps best exemplifies the film. A heartfelt sequence, it shows that solidarity in the face of oppression, that boldly standing up for what is right, is a righteous, albeit difficult stance.
One of the most prolific westerns (and sometimes argued to be the last great western) to come out of Hollywood, George Roy Hill adapts William Goldman’s script that brings to life the real, mythical-type figures of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The background of the script is quite something, with Goldman sending it out to all of the studios – only one was interested (and that was if he made a major change to it). Instead, a few minor adjustments were made, after which Goldman discovered that every studio in town now desperately wanted it. In the end, it was 20th Century Fox President Richard D. Zanuck (son of co-founder Darryl F. Zanuck) who purchased the screenplay for a whopping 400,000 dollars (the biggest sum ever spent on a script up to that point) – and 200,000 higher than he was allowed to spend. Putting his job on the line, it was a wise choice, as it became the highest grossing motion picture of 1969. Goldman ended up winning the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay. Originally titled ‘The Sundance Kid and Butch Cassidy’, Zanuck didn’t find that the title sounded right when it was reversed to its final iteration – funnily enough, it now feels utterly awkward in its original form.