Graham Greene’s short novel The End of the Affair is a tale of love, jealousy, pain and Catholic guilt, set against the background of the London Blitz. I’ve read the book many times over the years, since first falling in love with it as a teenager, and have never failed to be gripped by Greene’s haunting prose – but for some reason I’d never seen a film adaptation until now. I decided to watch the British 1955 film starring Van Johnson, Deborah Kerr and Peter Cushing, and found it captures quite a lot of the novel’s disturbing power, even though the censors of the day watered down some elements. Greene later described it in a 1984 Guardian film lecture, included in The Graham Greene Film Reader, as the “least unsatisfactory” adaptation of one of his religious novels.
The film is available on DVD from Columbia Classics in both region 1 and region 2/UK, with different covers. The UK sleeve captures the dark and brooding atmosphere of the film far better than the sweet colour photo on the US sleeve. The UK disc is a barebones presentation, but does have a good quality print. There is also a region 1 double DVD which combines this film with the 1999 remake starring Ralph Fiennes and Julianne Moore. I’m hoping to see and compare that version soon. The movie can also be streamed via Amazon in the US.
This posting is my contribution to the Marathon Stars Blogathon hosted by Virginie at The Wonderful World of Cinema and Crystal at The Good Old Days of Classic Hollywood blogs. Please do visit and read the other postings!
The challenge for the Marathon Stars Blogathon was to watch 5 films featuring a star whom I’d only seen in up to 3 movies previously. I found it quite difficult to pick someone, since often as soon as I notice an actor I rush to see as many of their films as possible, promptly ruling them out for this particular blogathon!
However, I realised I had seen just two films starring Hedy Lamarr, and that she had made a favourable impression on me in both. She is on something of a hiding to nothing in Algiers (John Cromwell, 1938), which is almost a frame by frame remake of the great French drama Pépé le Moko, made only a year earlier – but she still gives a good performance. However, the film I had really liked her in wasCome Live With Me (Clarence Brown, 1941), a bitter-sweet romantic comedy where she plays a Viennese exile in the US who gradually falls for awkward young writer James Stewart. That’s still probably my favourite of hers even after seeing the 5 new-to-me films that I’ve watched for this marathon, which covered a range of genres and were all highly enjoyable.
This is my contribution to the Symbiotic Collaborations blogathon, being hosted by CineMaven’s Essays from the Couch. Please take a look at the other postings, which all focus on collaborations between a director and star.
Both Raoul Walsh and James Cagney are known for their quality of toughness, so it’s no surprise that two of the four movies they made together are famous gangster films. But both director and actor were also interested in focusing on character and, beyond the action sequences, their films also contain equally powerful scenes bringing out the vulnerability of the heroes/villains played by Cagney. I can’t look at every aspect of all four films here, so am concentrating on this theme. I’ve also put a separate bit about some of the films’ endings at the end, including pictures.
This is my contribution to the Remembering Barbara Stanwyck Blogathon, being organised by Crystal at The Good Old Days of Classic Hollywood. Please do visit and look at the other pieces about one of the all-time greatest film stars.
It’s a black and white film full of shadows, with Barbara Stanwyck as the woman tempting Fred MacMurray to abandon his virtuous life. Another leading noir actress, Joan Bennett, also stars. But Douglas Sirk’s domestic melodrama There’s Always Tomorrow is worlds away from Double Indemnity, and Stanwyck’s character here is no femme fatale – or not consciously so. However, her effect on the life of MacMurray’s character could prove to be nearly as devastating as it was in the earlier film.
I have some problems with attitudes woven into this film, which will become clear during my review, but I still find it compelling, as with all the “emotion pictures” by Sirk that I’ve seen so far. And Stanwyck is just as riveting to watch as always, giving depth to a character whose motivation isn’t always clear. This is the second time she had played an outsider returning home in a Sirk film, after the earlier All I Desire, also in black and white.
It’s also one of four films she and MacMurray made together, all very different. After enjoying Double Indemnity, the great Christmas romantic comedy Remember the Night and this one, I’ve only got The Moonlighter still to go. There’s Always Tomorrow was their last time together, though, and that gives an extra poignancy to the film, since they are cast as a couple reunited after years apart.
This is my second contribution to the Sinatra Centennial Blogathon, which I’m hosting together with Emily from The Vintage Cameo. Emily is hosting the last two days of this event, so please head over to her site to see the latest postings. My first contribution was Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby.
It’s not one of Frank Sinatra’s better-known films, and was released as his career was heading for the rocks in the early 1950s. Yet Meet Danny Wilson, an uneven melodrama laced with music and comedy,contains some of his finest singing, and also gives hints of the acting triumphs which were to come. Made in black-and-white, this film was produced on a low budget and is admittedly no masterpiece, but all the same I really enjoyed it and found it a great way to celebrate his centennial.
In particular, he gives an absolutely spellbinding performance of She’s Funny That Way. The film is also interesting to watch because there are quite a few echoes of Sinatra’s real life, something which was commented on at the time. The film is available on DVD in the UK/region 2, from Eureka, but looks as if it is harder to get hold of for those of you in the US. The UK DVD, which I own, has pretty good picture quality, but no extras except for the original trailer.
This piece is my first contribution to the Sinatra Centennial blogathon, which I’m proudly co-hosting with Emily at The Vintage Cameo. I’m also hoping to put a second piece up before the event ends on Sunday!
They might have only co-starred in two movies, but Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby loom large in each other’s legend. Sinatra took inspiration to start out on his singing career from Crosby’s success, while Bing jokingly spoofed Frank on film. Although best-known as singers, both were also Oscar-winning actors. They appeared together on radio and TV over the years, most famously in the TV special Happy Holidays with Bing and Frank, which has recently been resurrected – and is perfect festive viewing for Sinatra’s Centennial.
According to a biography of the young Sinatra I read a few years ago, Frank: The Making of a Legend by James Kaplan, the young Frank had a picture of Bing on his wall and wore the style of cap favoured by his idol. Once Sinatra started to make a name for himself as a singer and followed Crosby into films, comparisons were soon being made between the two.
After watching this powerful and haunting Korean war film, I belatedly realised it wasn’t really a good choice for a Grace Kelly blogathon. Kelly’s screen time is all too limited and her part doesn’t give her much scope as an actress. However, her character, Nancy, is important, giving a glimpse of the life that the reluctant hero, her husband Harry Brubaker (William Holden) has been wrenched away from.
Based on a book by James Michener, whose work also inspired South Pacific, this film has hints of the musical’s mood of disillusion over war. Despite being released only a short time after the end of the Korean War, and made with the co-operation of the US Navy, it isn’t the gung-ho propaganda piece I was half-expecting. The movie pays tribute to the courage of the individuals caught up in the conflict, but suggests that many of them didn’t really know why they were there. Although there are many exciting and stirring scenes, which won the film an Oscar for best special effects, they are often undercut by the sadness and weariness of the central character. This element gives this glossy action picture a surprisingly downbeat feeling at times.