Monthly Archives: May 2016

  • Red Dust

    Victor Fleming (1932)

    Dennis Carson (Clark Gable) runs a rubber plantation in Indochina.  Gary Willis (Gene Raymond) is an engineer, eager to learn the ropes and devoted to his ladylike wife Barbara (Mary Astor).  An unladylike prostitute called Vantine (Jean Harlow) fetches up on the plantation, on the lam from the authorities in Saigon.  (The names are just right for the characters.)  Both women take a shine to Carson – Vantine from the word go and Barbara while her husband is recovering from a tropical fever.  In both cases, Carson returns the compliment.   It’s monsoon season and the torrential rain, the wind and the lightning, and the rumbling thunder are very enjoyable (as is a cameo from a tiger).  The moral of the story is that Gable and Harlow, both sexually forthright and daring, ‘belong’ in this environment in a way that the naïve Raymond and the exquisitely tortured Astor do not.  The Willises eventually return home to America as Vantine reads Carson – who’s convalescing from a bullet wound from a gun fired by Barbara – a bedtime story (it’s a children’s story in a newspaper) ‘… about a chipmunk and a rabbit – say, I wonder how this comes out …’   The contrasts between the two men and, especially, the two women are very funny.   It’s amusing too that Astor skilfully develops the sensual side of Barbara’s character but remains a pain whereas you root for the wisecracking Harlow however annoying Vantine is being.   Red Dust was made before the introduction of the Hays Code so the film is more verbally suggestive and physically frank than you might expect.  An especially good moment when the two women are on screen together sees Astor mooching around neurasthenically while Harlow, exposing a good deal of thigh, sits filing her nails at furious speed.

    Jean Harlow was only twenty-one at the time (only twenty-six when she died) and, although Vantine has been around, Harlow’s face still seems to have the inchoate quality of a child’s, which makes her libidinousness very distinctive.  Clark Gable’s particular skill of being confrontational and relaxed at the same time is strongly in evidence.   (John Ford remade the material, based on a play by Wilson Collison, as Mogambo twenty years later, with Gable doing the same role, this time in Africa, with Ava Gardner and Grace Kelly as the two other sides of the love triangle – and, of course, with the blonde and brunette character types reversed.)    The screenplay by John Lee Mahin and the direction by Victor Fleming are fit for purpose – although the presentation of the Asian labourers on the plantation is appalling now, both in what Carson has to say about their idleness and untrustworthiness and in the way that Willie Fung has been made to play the main coolie (as a grinning idiot).  With Tully Marshall, Forrester Harvey and Donald Crisp.  The last-named is one of the few people on the plantation who, like Vantine, is under no illusions about the moral character of its owner-manager.

    4 March 2010

  • Rear Window

    Alfred Hitchcock (1954)

    Based on a 1942 short story called It Had to Be Murder by Cornell Woolrich, Rear Window is an excellent idea and a very entertaining movie.  Photographer ‘Jeff’ Jeffries (James Stewart) is stuck in a wheelchair in his Greenwich Village apartment, his broken leg encased in plaster.  To stave off boredom and stir craziness, he watches what the various inhabitants of the block opposite are up to.  Jeff becomes convinced that one of them has done away with his wife but is he, in his anxiety to keep his mind active, imagining things?   His observation is enjoyable but it makes you a little queasy too – Jeff is a nosy neighbour verging on a peeping Tom.  This man, who makes a living taking pictures, uses binoculars but he might just as well be the man with a movie camera:  Hitchcock is cheerfully unashamed of his complicity with his protagonist – and his/Jeff’s focus on a semi-undressed blonde across the way has a particular charge (especially with Grace Kelly in the role of Jeff’s socialite girlfriend Lisa).  The company of neighbours becomes familiar to us rather in the way that neighbours really do, through seeing part of their routines, but with the vast difference that these are private routines:  Hitchcock reminds the audience that we too are voyeurs.  The dialogue by John Michael Hayes is crisp and clever and the scene-setting in Rear Window is Hitchcock at his amusing and inventive best.  The movement of the camera across the apartments (the DoP was Robert Burks) and the build-up of noise from the buildings, its environs and New York City not far beyond are alluring.  The many elements of the soundtrack are always in dynamic competition and there’s an abundance of eccentric visual details, like a dog going up and down the height of the apartment block in a Moses basket.  The film predates West Side Story by a few years but Franz Waxman’s score, heard at this distance in time, calls to mind the famous Leonard Bernstein music.

    Rear Window is first-rate entertainment, even though it goes on a little too long and there’s not enough mystery to solve.  James Stewart makes a fine job of Jeff’s exasperated recuperation (especially when his plastered leg is itching) although there are signs and sounds here of the mannerisms that eventually turned Stewart into a caricature of himself.  Jeff’s exchanges with Thelma Ritter, as the insurance company nurse who comes to his apartment each day, are spot on – Ritter handles the lines superlatively.  As the main woman in Jeff’s life, Grace Kelly looks spectacular.  The sequence in which he voices his growing suspicions and Lisa keeps kissing him is a splendid example of how to get across information at the same time as you describe a relationship (and make an audience laugh).  Lisa is too otherwise engaged here to listen to what Jeff is saying, but we listen as well as watch.  Grace Kelly becomes rather tedious, though.  She botches the moment when suspicion dawns on Lisa and she generally seems too pleased with herself.   Her expression in the film’s final shot is especially irritating (and reminds you why Nicole Kidman will be well cast in the upcoming Kelly biopic).  The murderous neighbour is Raymond Burr in the days before he brought other killers to book as Perry Mason and, as Jeff Jeffries’ wheelchair reminds you, a man called Ironside.

    10 June 2012

Posts navigation