What classics did you see last week ? (9 Dec - 15 Dec 2018)
Dec 16, 2018 1:52:16 GMT
spiderwort, teleadm, and 4 more like this
Post by Doghouse6 on Dec 16, 2018 1:52:16 GMT
Thanks for stepping in, teleadm . I was just on the point of wondering where to put this.
Whistling In the Dark (1933)
Classic film fans are likely to be more familiar with the 1941 Red Skelton film of the same title (and its two Whistling offshoots) than with this 1933 original, which was produced by MGM the same year the Broadway play from which it was adapted closed after 265 performances. Absent Skelton's manic energy and zaniness, it plays more like a Paramount comedy of the same era with its sly tone that leans more in the direction of drollery than farce, and centers around a reluctant hero of decidedly different mild manners. In place of Wally "The Fox" Benton, radio crime-solver, is novelist Wally Porter, who happens upon the secluded Hudson Valley hideout of racketeer Jake Dillon when his car breaks down on the way to elopement with sweetheart Toby Van Buren, and is pressed into service to employ his expertise in devising a perfect murder.
Imagine a cross-pollination of Robert Benchley's distracted geniality and Bob Hope's false bravado, with a pinch of Edward Everett Horton's fussy indignation added, and the combination presents itself in the diminutive form of Ernest Truex as Wally (recreating the role he originated on Broadway). Truex's feature film appearances, while numerous, perhaps weren't as notable as his collection of B'way ones, with nearly four dozen shows to his credit over roughly as many years. He's probably best remembered by film buffs as the prissy reporter Bensinger in 1940's His Girl Friday.
Here, with an arsenal of tics, takes and disarming inflections at his disposal, Truex's performance is full of charming inventiveness, no doubt well-honed after a year on the boards but deftly modulated for the camera under the direction of Elliot Nugent (who also adapted the material for the screen), giving free rein to a hundred subtle yet attention-commanding mannerisms. As Dillon, the imposing and always-wonderful Edward Arnold (also recreating his stage role) executes expert timing, working with Truex like a vital component of a well-tuned machine.
Alternating between silky smoothness and sinister intimidation, Arnold displays his own inventory of adroit nuances. One running bit is his repeated dismissal of taciturn and watchful housekeeper Hilda (Marcelle Corday) with a brusque "Scram." Late in the proceedings, after the devoted Hilda has alerted Dillon to dissension within his ranks, Arnold tenderly places a hand on Corday's shoulder and says, "I'll never forget what you did for me tonight," and when the inevitable "Scram" follows, he delivers it with the hint of a smile and warmth that transform it into an endearment. Una Merkel is everything from adorable to exasperating as fiance Toby (played on B'way by Claire Trevor), and goonish Nat Pendleton fills the role played by "Rags" Ragland in '41.
The target for assassination this first time around is a prominent brewer who's interfering with Dillon's protection racket, but viewers of the later version will recognize basic plot devices: the poisoned toothpaste; the radio re-wired to transmit as well as receive; attempts to flip members of the gang. Free of the "third wheel" character played by Virginia Grey in '41, this pre-PCA outing delights with an extended scene missing from the later film, in which Toby, sharing a bedroom with him for the night, not-so-coyly attempts to lure the diffident Wally into bed with repeated reminders that this may be the last night of their lives. Also present are topical Depression-era references, such as Merkel's chirpy pronouncement that they'll be "as safe as a bank," which elicits from Truex a slow take and a dubious, "WHAT bank?"
After only one viewing, this '33 version has become a sudden rival for the affection I have for the '41, but I anticipate peaceful coexistence between the two, and I'm so glad I finally caught up with it, most especially for the understated but captivating work of Ernest Truex. It's available for the rest of the month through the TCM website's "Watch Now" feature (the listing for which is erroneously accompanied by artwork from the later one), and I recommend checking it out.
Whistling In the Dark (1933)
Classic film fans are likely to be more familiar with the 1941 Red Skelton film of the same title (and its two Whistling offshoots) than with this 1933 original, which was produced by MGM the same year the Broadway play from which it was adapted closed after 265 performances. Absent Skelton's manic energy and zaniness, it plays more like a Paramount comedy of the same era with its sly tone that leans more in the direction of drollery than farce, and centers around a reluctant hero of decidedly different mild manners. In place of Wally "The Fox" Benton, radio crime-solver, is novelist Wally Porter, who happens upon the secluded Hudson Valley hideout of racketeer Jake Dillon when his car breaks down on the way to elopement with sweetheart Toby Van Buren, and is pressed into service to employ his expertise in devising a perfect murder.
Imagine a cross-pollination of Robert Benchley's distracted geniality and Bob Hope's false bravado, with a pinch of Edward Everett Horton's fussy indignation added, and the combination presents itself in the diminutive form of Ernest Truex as Wally (recreating the role he originated on Broadway). Truex's feature film appearances, while numerous, perhaps weren't as notable as his collection of B'way ones, with nearly four dozen shows to his credit over roughly as many years. He's probably best remembered by film buffs as the prissy reporter Bensinger in 1940's His Girl Friday.
Here, with an arsenal of tics, takes and disarming inflections at his disposal, Truex's performance is full of charming inventiveness, no doubt well-honed after a year on the boards but deftly modulated for the camera under the direction of Elliot Nugent (who also adapted the material for the screen), giving free rein to a hundred subtle yet attention-commanding mannerisms. As Dillon, the imposing and always-wonderful Edward Arnold (also recreating his stage role) executes expert timing, working with Truex like a vital component of a well-tuned machine.
Alternating between silky smoothness and sinister intimidation, Arnold displays his own inventory of adroit nuances. One running bit is his repeated dismissal of taciturn and watchful housekeeper Hilda (Marcelle Corday) with a brusque "Scram." Late in the proceedings, after the devoted Hilda has alerted Dillon to dissension within his ranks, Arnold tenderly places a hand on Corday's shoulder and says, "I'll never forget what you did for me tonight," and when the inevitable "Scram" follows, he delivers it with the hint of a smile and warmth that transform it into an endearment. Una Merkel is everything from adorable to exasperating as fiance Toby (played on B'way by Claire Trevor), and goonish Nat Pendleton fills the role played by "Rags" Ragland in '41.
The target for assassination this first time around is a prominent brewer who's interfering with Dillon's protection racket, but viewers of the later version will recognize basic plot devices: the poisoned toothpaste; the radio re-wired to transmit as well as receive; attempts to flip members of the gang. Free of the "third wheel" character played by Virginia Grey in '41, this pre-PCA outing delights with an extended scene missing from the later film, in which Toby, sharing a bedroom with him for the night, not-so-coyly attempts to lure the diffident Wally into bed with repeated reminders that this may be the last night of their lives. Also present are topical Depression-era references, such as Merkel's chirpy pronouncement that they'll be "as safe as a bank," which elicits from Truex a slow take and a dubious, "WHAT bank?"
After only one viewing, this '33 version has become a sudden rival for the affection I have for the '41, but I anticipate peaceful coexistence between the two, and I'm so glad I finally caught up with it, most especially for the understated but captivating work of Ernest Truex. It's available for the rest of the month through the TCM website's "Watch Now" feature (the listing for which is erroneously accompanied by artwork from the later one), and I recommend checking it out.