Black Narcissus (1947)

During the decades of the 1940s and 1950s, filmmakers Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger crafted a series of films in the United Kingdom under the banner of The Archers, their production company. Working in tandem, Powell and Pressburger developed an unusual method of work in which both shared the credits of writer, producer and director, gaining a full creative liberty regarding the visual style and themes they wanted for their movies. Beginning in 1942 with "One of Our Aircraft is Missing", Powell and Pressburger quickly established a pretty unique style that would be polished with every film made by the duo. By 1946, The Archers were releasing their romantic fantasy classic "A Matter of Life and Death" and were ready to begin a new project of a significantly different nature: a psychological drama based on a 1939 novel, "Black Narcissus", written by popular British author Rumor Godden. The story, set in an isolated valley in the Himalayas, would be the perfect frame to show the mastery of cinematographer Jack Cardiff at using Technicolor. However, "Black Narcissus" is a lot more than just a beautiful photography.

As mentioned before, the story in "Black Narcissus" is set in a remote region in the Himalayas, the palace of Mopu (near Darjeeling), where a little group of five Anglican nuns must travel with the mission of establishing a convent to serve as school and hospital to the inhabitants of that remote place. Sister Clodagh (Deborah Kerr), is a young Irish nun with a strong character that has been sent to lead the mission as the superior in the convent. The other nuns in the mission include sister Philippa (Flora Robson) in charge of agriculture, the kind sister Honey (Jenny Laird) and the strong sister Briony (Judith Furse) to work as teachers and nurses, and finally sister Ruth (Kathleen Byron), who has been sick. At the convent the nuns meet Mr. Dean (David Farrar), a British agent living in the region that becomes their contact with the local government. The governor, the Old General (Esmond Knight), is happy to have the nuns opening a hospital, but soon the tensions within the walls of the convent arise, tensions that young sister Clodagh may not be ready to handle.

The screenplay, written of course by Powell and Pressburger, is a real psychological study on its characters that, living in isolation and facing a diametrically opposite culture, become an easy prey for fears and anxieties that they thought had been left in the past when they became nuns. Sister Clodagh, determined to have success with the mission, finds herself in the middle of everything, trying gallantly to handle the diverse crisis that take place in the convent, as well as her own crisis of faith, tempted by Mr. Dean's flirting words. Sister Clodagh is an extraordinarily complex character, brilliantly developed with a tempestuous sensuality that she tries to contain with the armor of her own discipline. The interesting things is that this armor is not some religious hypocrisy or an uptight moralism, but simply the desire for triumph of a woman that no longer wishes to be defeated. And while sister Clodagh could rightfully be seen as the protagonist of this story, the rest of the characters are not there just for mere support, as they truly experiment their own crisis of faith through the story.

The work of directing done by Powell and Pressburger is simply impeccable, with a superb use of the camera that enhances the tension lived within the walls of the convent at the Himalaya. Despite the fact that "Black Narcissus" was mainly shot on a studio, there's a sensation of majesty about the cultural shock lived by the Anglican nuns upon meeting the culture of India. Without a doubt this is a theme that couldn't go untouched by The Archers (specially when India's independence would become a reality within months from the film's release date), and in "Black Narcissus" the image shown is one of a rich exotic culture that marvels enormously, but still can't be tamed or understood by the sober British civilization. Something remarkable about Powell and Pressburger's film is the subtle eroticism that permeates through the film, as even when the latent sensuality is one of the most important themes in the film, this remains always contained, growing little by little as the wilderness of the environment begins to enter the lives of the nuns, only exploding in the film's powerful climax.

In a film like "Black Narcissus", based entirely in the relationships between the characters, the success depends a lot on the quality of the performances done by the cast, and fortunately, this is one of the movie's most notable aspects. Leading the cast is Deborah Kerr in the role of sister Clodagh, making one of the best jobs in her career. As mentioned before, sister Clodagh is a complex character that has not only a repressed sensuality, but also a terrible fair of failure and a strong determination. With a role full of so many facets, Kerr makes a solid and unforgettable job. Kathleen Byron, whom as sister Ruth takes the role of being a counterpart of sorts to sister Clodagh, makes the best performance in the movie as a disturbed nun with a serious emotional conflict. This is a character that easily could had ended up as the caricature of a histerical nun, but Byron manages to gift her character with great deepness in a thrilling, yet restrained performance. The acting duel between Kerr and Byron is one of the many elements that make of "Black Narcissus" a real gem.

As a whole, the rest of the cast keeps the same quality level, shining above them David Farrat as the charming Mr. Dean, and Flora Robson as the lovely sister Philippa. Also in the film appear Indian actor Sabu and a young Jean Simmons in a subplot that works more thanks to the wit of the screenplay than to their performances, as theirs are probably the worst in the film. However, those problems do not demerit in any way the quality of "Black Narcissus", film that seemed to be ahead of its time not only in terms of themes but also in the spectacular work of cinematography in Technicolor done by Jack Cardiff, that truly make the film look like no other movie of its time (with the exception of course, of "The Red Shoes", also by Cardiff for The Archers). The brilliant of the Technicolor in "Black Narcissus" isn't only the beautiful colors that Jack Cardiff puts on the film, but the highly expressive use that Powell and Pressburger give to them. Color is not just an effect devised to impress, but a complete narrative tool used to great effect in the contrast done between the plain whiteness of the nuns' uniforms and the region's colorful landscape.

Director Michael Powell once said that he considered "Black Narcissus" to be his most erotic film, and probably he was right in that statement. In the microcosm that is the convent in "Black narcissus", what is implied by glances and silences is way more important than what's actually said, and this is something that Powell and Pressburger truly understood, making of subtlety a key piece of the film. The masterful way in which the filmmakers use it in their narrative is a testament of the directors' great talent, and proof that without a doubt this duo of filmmakers earned their place in the history of British cinema. Film of great aesthetic beauty and tremendous energy, "Black Narcissus" is a movie where every element of cinematography are combined to make a masterpiece. Normally, melodrama is accused of being a populist and low brow genre, but Powell and Pressburger show in "Black Narcissus" that melodrama can be true art.

10/10

-------------------------------

The Ape Man (1943)

Truly a real icon of the horror genre, Hungarian actor Bela Lugosi was immortalized when he played the legendary vampire, Count Dracula, in the film adaptation directed by Tod Browning for Universal Studios in 1931. However, after the role that would take him to the top, Lugosi would face the problem of being type-casted as a horror villain, thanks in part to his heavy foreign accent. While at first Lugosi enjoyed constant work at Universal Studios, when the company decided to close the production of horror films, Lugosi saw himself forced to work in low budget films in the harsh world of B-movies. Working for Sam Katzman's Monogram Pictures during the decade of the 1940s, Lugosi would perform in films of regular quality, as his career was being forgotten by mainstream audiences. "The Ape Man", directed by William Beaudine and released in 1943, is a clear example of this, as it presents Bela Lugosi working under a badly done work of make up as the titular ape man. While it's worth to point out that, despite this, the Hungarian actor does a quite professional job.

"The Ape Man" begins with the arrival of Agatha Brewster (Minerva Urecal), a professional ghost-hunter, who's coming to the city after receiving the news of the disappearance of her brother, the famed scientist Dr. James Brewster (Bela Lugosi). Reporter Jeff Carter (Wallace Ford) is waiting for her, eager to get an interview, but unfortunately Agatha is in a hurry, and his attempt ends in failure, as even the photograph taken is a mess. The reason of Agatha Brewster's hurry is that Dr. Randall (Henry Hall), her brother's colleague, has informed her that James has not disappeared, but that after a tragic lab accident, he has been turned into an ape man. In the meantime, Jeff Carter receives the mission of making a proper interview with Mrs. Brewster, and much to his dismay, he is partnered with a new photographer, Billie Mason (Louise Currie). The team will try to find out why is Mrs. Brewster so secretive, but they'll discover the twisted mind of Dr. Brewster, whom is now desperate to find a cure for his condition, and with that in mind he's willing to do the unthinkable.

The screenplay for "The Ape Man" was written by Barney A. Sarecky, taking as basis a story by Karel Brown, whom was a famous cinematographer of the days of silent cinema that later became a writer during the 30s, penning among others, the classic thrillers "The Man they Could Not Hang" and "Before I Hang". As in those films (by the way, both starring Boris Karloff), the main character is a scientist facing the tragic consequences of having experimented with himself. Being a victim of his own experiment, Dr. James Brewster has become a violent sociopath interested only in his own recovery. Certainly, this makes Dr. Brewster a quite interesting character, but Sarecky's screenplay opts to leave him aside in favor of the couple made by Carter and Mason, the classic wisecracking reporters that were so common in horror films during the 30s and 40s. It may seem as if with this choice, "The Ape Man" was now turned into a pretty ordinary film, but actually Sarecky's screenplay generates interesting dynamics between the two reporters, playing with Carter's uneasiness at having a woman in his team.

The role of director is taken by the veteran b-movies filmmaker William Beaudine, whom by then already had the reputation of being an efficient and practical craftsman. However, this emphasis on practicality often resulted in a sacrifice of the film's quality in general, not to mention the downplaying of other artistic values. And unfortunately, "The Ape Man" is a clear example of this, as while the screenplay isn't really a bad idea, Beaudine limits himself merely to shoot the film without caring too much for creating atmospheres or a particular emotion with it. Beaudine's style is quite conservative, and while it may be a style that could work in less fantastic melodramas (in fact, the screwball comedy between the reporters actually works just fine), "The Ape Man" would had been benefited by a more creative approach from the director, more willing to take risks and innovate. The result is that "The Ape Man" is ultimately a lot less interesting that what could had been, with a pretty slow rhythm only improved by the good performances the film has.

And that's because if there's something valuable in "The Ape Man" is that in general it has a good amount of pretty good performances (in comparison to other B-films of its time). First of course is Bela Lugosi, whom despite having a badly done work of make up in his face, does a pretty professional job as Dr. Brewster, turned into a being half man half ape. There's a certain care in the way that Lugosi creates his character, as rather than making a mere caricature of an ape, Lugosi makes a restrained, perhaps even subtle performance out of it. Wallace Ford, famous for his role in Tod Browning's "Freaks", shines with his particular charm and comedic talent in his role as wisecracking reporter Jeff Carter. However, his character wouldn't be the same without his counterpart, Billie Mason, played with great talent by Louise Currie, the film's true surprise. Veteran actress Minerva Urecal isn't that lucky, and her performance as the sister of the unfortunate Dr. Brewster, Agatha, is a tad exaggerated and overacted.

The case of "The Ape Man" is definitely one of wasted potential, as amongst the many movies done about murdering apes (which were pretty popular during the 30s and 40s), this one is certainly amongst the best written. Scriptwriter Barney A. Sarecky balances quite well comedy and horror, and there are even some clever situations and pretty interesting moments through the story. However, William Beaudine's work as a director turns ordinary a tale that could had resulted in a remarkable film. As mentioned before, Beaudine's simplistic narrative manages to work well in the comedy scenes (which also are enhanced by the great chemistry between Ford and Currie), but not in the horror ones, which look even stagy in their execution. On top of that, the poor quality of the special effects truly harm the film, particularly the make up done for Bela Lugosi and Emil Van Horn (who plays an ape) is of an awful quality (though of course, with a better done work of cinematography, this could still had worked, with those flaws hidden in the shadows as in 1932' "Murders in the Rue Morgue").

There's no doubt that William Beaudine's working style was pretty functional for film studios eager of having new material to show in little time (in fact, that's precisely the reason why Beaudine would later work in television), however, films like "The Ape Man" certainly deserved a bit more of care in its making. There are many good and interesting elements in "The Ape Man" (the cast for example), but they are inevitably overshadowed by the uninspired work of director Beaudine, who merely translates what's on the script to the silver screen without putting any emotion in it. Finally, a film that could had been quite entertaining, ends up looking a bit silly, slow and even boring. "The Ape Man" isn't really a bad film per se, but it's truly a pretty average one, and it leaves the sensation that the story deserved something better. The work of Currie, Ford and Lugosi certainly deserved better.

5/10
-------------------------------

Man with Two Lives (1942)

Across the history of cinema, very few events have had the tremendous impact that the arrival of sound had. As a factor that redefined the art of cinema for ever, it meant as well a forced changed in the careers of many artists. Naturally, this is of course more than obvious in the case of actors, forced to adapt themselves to the changing art; however, it also represented a challenge for the filmmakers, who experienced the shaking of the foundations of an art they had come to dominate. While some of them, like Fritz Lang, managed to make a notable transition from silent cinema to "talkies", many others weren't that lucky and saw their careers finished. The case of director Phil Rosen could be considered a middle ground, as while Rosen could still work in sound films, he went from being a filmmaker of a certain name to an unknown yet efficient artisan making genre films in the world of B-movies. The film "Man with Two Lives", a mix of horror and science fiction released in 1942, is a typical example of the kind of cinema that Rosen would do in the sound era.

"Man with Two Lives" begins in the laboratory of Dr. Richard Clark (Edward Keane), whom along his young assistant Reginald Bennett (Tom Seidel), has dedicated his job to find a way to resurrect the dead. So far, it seems that Dr. Clark has achieved his goal, having been able to keep a heart beating for days; however, he hasn't been able to try his theories on a human being. The opportunity would come to him in a tragic way, when Reginald's brother, Philip Bennett (Edward Norris), loses his life in an unfortunately fatal car accident. Desperate, Philip's father, Hobart Bennett (Frederick Burton), begs Dr. Clark to put his theories to the test in order to resurrect his son, who had a promising future and was set to marry the beautiful Helen Lengel (Marlo Dwyer) in the following days. Dr. Clark accepts, though not without some reluctance. Fortunately, the experiment success and Philip Bennet is alive again. However, something is not right with Philip, who doesn't remember anyone and on the contrary, seems to know a lot about Wold Panino, a criminal who was executed at the same time Philip was resurrected.

Written by veteran scriptwriter Joseph Hoffman (who would have a prolific career in B-movie cinema), "Man with Two Lives" is another reinterpretation of the popular theme of change of personalities, having in this case the soul of a gangster in the body of kind and responsible Philip Bennett. Thus, Hoffman's tale moves between science fiction and crime melodrama, as the recently resurrected Panino uses Bennett's body to try to recover his criminal empire. As can be guessed, a lot of the drama in "Man with Two Lives" comes from the fact that Philip is a well liked member of high society, so his family and friends end up shocked as they discover the places and the people that Bennet is now visiting after his resurrection (not to mention his new activities). Hoffman's script is a tad predictable (not to mention it borrows a bit too much from Arthur Lubin's "Black Friday", released just two years before), though it does include a couple of interesting moments where the ruthless personality of Panino is evident. Sadly, Hoffman fails to explore more this aspect and even betrays himself with pretty cheap finale.

Director Phil Rosen gives life to Hoffman's screenplay in a pretty simple and traditional way. In fact, this simplicity in its visual narrative, though certainly effective to work with little time and low budget, results in a movie that feels even more antiquated than it really is. With a pretty static style that opts for practicality instead of a properly defined artistic vision, Rosen crafts an uninspired film that hardly takes advantage of the locations and props the film has (which include laboratory devices brought from previously done horror films). Despite the touches of horror and science fiction the story has, Rosen builds up his movie without paying too much attention to those aspects, leaving "Man with Two Lives" as mainly a gangster film and focusing more in the contrast between the two lives that his character experiences: the luxury existence of wealthy Bennett and the sordid life of ruthless criminal Panino. Even when Rosen himself had a solid background as cinematographer, the use he gives to the work of Harry Neumann in this department is pretty simplistic.

The performances by the cast in "Man with Two Lives" aren't really bad, so it's a bit sad that they hadn't a better material to work in this movie. Edward Norris plays the nice Philip Bennet, whom after suffering the unfortunate accident finds himself with the personality of the violent Panino. As Bennett, Norris is a bit wooden, even stagy in his performance, though once the personality of the criminal begins to control his character, Norris actually makes a pretty good job (certainly Norris was more comfortable playing the gangster than the nice guy). Marlo Dwyer, playing socialité Helen Lengel isn't bad in her role, though she's overshadowed a lot by actress Eleanor Lawson, who plays Panino's former girlfriend, confused at finding in Bennett the traits of her deceased lover. As Dr. Richard Clark, Edward Keane makes a job that's reminiscent of Lionel Atwill's style, though of course without the same level. Young Tom Seidel makes a pretty acceptable job as young Reginald Bennett, to the point of overshadowing Norris at times.

As mentioned before, "Man with Two Lives" is a film a bit too predictable for its own good, and pretty much lacking in originality. The fact that it's plot is too similar to "Black Friday" doesn't help much (specially when in said film one finds the performances of the two greatest icons of horror: Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff), and unfortunately "Man with Two Lives" does little to move away from that comparison. Without a doubt, with a better developed screenplay, the film could had explored far more interesting territories. Unfortunately, it would seem as if Hoffmand had been consciously trying to avoid risk at all cost, for example. after having taken the story to a climatic scene of a certain strength, Hoffman's script opts to take a easy way out that feels gratuitous and cheap. Phil Rosen's uninspired work of directing is another negative element in the film, as while the acting isn't really bad, Rosen does little to establish an atmosphere or a mood for his film, leaving "Man with Two Lives" as just an average gangster film of the 1940s.

Monogram Pictures was a pretty important studio in its time, as it served as production company and distributor to the works of many filmmakers forced to thrive in the world of B-movies. While there are many Monogram films of great quality, unfortunately Phil Rosen's "Man with Two Lives" isn't one of them. A hybrid of horror and gangster film, "Man with Two Lives" sets aside its horror genre inheritance and focuses more on being a typical crime melodrama. Despite its lack of originality, there are certain elements in the film that could had elevated the film a bit. Unfortunately, those elements aren't exploited and the film ends sadly as a pretty forgettable story.

4/10
-------------------------------

The Third Man (1949)

There are movies that posses a remarkable technical excellence. There are also films that are simply just quite entertaining. And of course, there are movies of great artistic value too. And films that fully summarize the values and ideas of the time when they were made. And then there are films that truly encapsulate all that and more, that are so finely done that transcend their time, genre, nationality and are in fact real celebrations of that very human pleasure that is storytelling. Films that go beyond fulfilling the honorable goal of entertain and actually inspire. Those are masterpieces. And Carol Reed's "The Third Man" is one of those films. Produced in 1949, right at the beginning of the Cold War, "The Third Man" is a remarkable gem of filmmaking that more than 50 years after its release it still remains a captivating tale of mystery. A landmark of the broad thriller genre. The British Film Institute names it the best British film of the 20th Century. As pompous as that title may sound, it may actually not be that far from the truth.

"The Third Man" begins in Vienna, after Wolrd War II, where the city has been divided between the Allied forces. To the occupied city arrives American Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), an out of luck writer of pulp fiction, specifically Westerns, who has been offered a job by his childhood friend, Harry Lime. As soon as Martins arrives, he discovers that Lime was killed in an accident, ran over by a car while crossing the street. At Lime's funeral, Martins gets to know Major Calloway (Trevor Howard), and tries to figure out what happened in the last days of his dear friend. Martins begins to meet some of Lime's friends in Vienna, such as Baron Kurtz (Ernst Deutsch) and Popescu (Siegfried Breuer), who were with Lime when the accident took place. He also meets Lime's girlfriend, Anna (Alida Valli) and becomes fascinated with her. Inside Martins, the suspicion that Lime was killed begins to grow, specially when he finds out that at the time of his death there was a third man present. Martins will have to find out the identity of the third man.

Written by celebrated author Grahamn Greene (who famously wrote it initially as a novel in order to develop the plot. The novel was subsequently published), "The Third Man" is a cleverly written story of mystery with a captivating plot full of twists and turns, and a remarkably well done set of characters. However, while the interesting complexities of the plot are a joy, the gem of Greene's screenplay is the dialogs, which are literate and intelligent, but never overdone or artificial. Also, while deeply imbued by the conventions of film noir, "The Third Man" is notable in its subtle and elegant touches of comedy, that permeate the film with a very distinctive British tone. But behind its thrilling plot and its classy style, there are several themes that Greene explores that allow multiple readings of the film. For starters, it's ironic and frank disbelief in a peaceful post-War era is evident, but it's in the bittersweet way "The Third Man" deals with the topics of friendship and betrayal where the heart of the film is.

Certainly, the quite distinctive visual style of "The Third Man" is another of its highlights, with director Carol Reed crafting a breathtaking thriller that it's pure cinema. While certainly Greene's screenplay is a joy, the purely visual elements that Reed conjures in "The Third Man" enhance the atmosphere and take full advantage of cinema as a narrative medium. The work of cinematographer Robert Krasker is of great beauty, with the extensive use of Dutch angle shots and an Expressionist lighting style generate an atmosphere of tension, reflecting the alienation felt by Martins, whom by all accounts is a stranger in a strange land. The use of real Vienna locations for exteriors gives the film a gritty realism, pretty much in tone with the harshness of its plot. And yet, as mentioned above, Reed imbues his film with a darkly comedic tone of irony that fits the cynicism of his characters. With subtlety, he makes them captivating without softening in any way the impact of their lurid story.

The work done by the cast is simply amazing, showing the talents of the many excellent actors gathered in the film. Leading the cast is Joseph Cotten as Holly Martins, perfectly capturing the nervousness and naiveté of this pulp writer eager to make it big in Vienna. Interestingly, Martins is far from a traditional heroic character, lacking the courage and determination of the classic archetype, but compensating it with wit and a good heart. A good heart that could be his doom. As his childhood friend and the origin of the mystery, Harry Lime, the legendary Orson Welles portrays the opposite of Martins, a man so sure of a presence so big that dominates the screen even when he is not even there. The discovery of what happened to Lime will have great effects in Martins' character. As Lime's girlfriend Anna, Italian actress Alida Valli is not only beautiful, but also owner of an equally strong presence. This is another interesting element, as her character is certainly more dominant than Martins, and yet, still devoted to Lime.

In the supporting cast, the same high quality is found, particularly in the work of Trevor Howard, who plays Major Calloway, and Ernst Deutsch, who is the mischievous Baron Kurtz. Each one of them has more than a moment to shine, as the script grants them enough room to breath and grow. Stylish and irremediably mesmerizing, it's hard to say anything about "The Third Man" that it's not a praise, as everything from Greene's intelligent screenplay to the haunting score composed by Anton Karas (entirely on a zither) seems to be in the right place to make "The Third Man" a timeless classic. In fact, the film's high quality has resulted in the common error of attributing the film to Orson wells, though he has gone on record as saying that the film is entirely Reed's enterprise. And this is nowhere clearer than in the film's ending, which diverts from Greene's plan. Against the writer's protests, Reed (with the support of producers Korda and Selznick) made the change and the result was one of cinema's best finales for a film.

In the end, Carol Reed's "The Third Man", more than an influential film, it's a film that summarizes everything that cinema is. If Orson Welles' own "Citizen Kane" marked a revolutionary innovation in cinema language in 1941, Carol Reed's film shows a polished, distilled form of those innovations fully applied in its narrative style and visual design. In many ways, this 1949 film closes a decade of multiple changes as a true modern film. It's still bears the mark of a traditional thriller, but enriched by its noir aesthetic and its sly cynicism, "The Third Man" already points out the direction cinema would take in the future. Certainly, the title of "best film" is entirely subjective, but "The Third Man" has everything to support an argument for it.

10/10
-------------------------------

El Gran Calavera (1949)

During the last half of the 40s, filmmaker Luis Buñuel was facing difficult times. In exile from Spain after the Civil War, blacklisted in Hollywood because of his communist leanings, and on top of that a box office bomb (1947's "Gran Casino") as his debut in Mexican cinema; future seemed bleak for the surrealist director. The promising artist behind those innovative surreal ventures of the 30s was now, almost twenty years later, broke and unable to find a job. Once again, it would be producer Oscar Dancigers (producer of "Gran Casino") who would help Buñuel to get back on track. Dancigers and legendary Mexican actor Fernando Soler were planning an adaptation of Adolfo Torrado's popular play "El Gran Calavera" ("The Great Madcap"), with Soler acting and directing the film. However, Soler felt that handling both jobs was going to be difficult, so he asked Dancigers to find a director: "anyone". Dancigers called Buñuel and introduced him to a man whom would become one of his closest friends and collaborators: writer Luis Alcoriza.

"El Gran Calavera" tells the story of Ramiro de la Mata (Fernando Soler), a rich widower in a perpetual state of drunkenness, whose alcoholic ventures often end up with him being unable of remembering what has happened. The state of near unconsciousness in which he spends most of his time has allowed Ramiro's family to exploit him and making him finance everything they want. Ramiro's offspring Eduardo and Virginia (Gustavo Rojo and Rosario Granados), his older brother Ladislao (Andrés Soler) and also Ladislao's hypochondriac wife Milagros (Rosario Granados), are all literally parasites exploiting Ramiro to the point that his company approaches bankruptcy. This prompts Ramiro's younger brother Gregorio (Francisco Jambrina) to take action and conceives a plan to bring Ramiro back to sobriety: his family will pretend to have been driven to poverty due to his alcoholism. Facing the threat of bankruptcy and the idea of having their lifestyle finished, Ramiro's family decides to go along with Gregorio's plan, but a change of events will soon make them face real poverty.

Adapted to the screen by Luis Alcoriza and his wife Janet, "El Gran Calavera" is a quite light-hearted comedy of manners that even when apparently harmless, it does contain its fair share of social criticism hidden behind the laughs. With the contrast between social classes as the background for most of the comedy, it's easy to label "El Gran Calavera" as a fierce social criticism towards the bourgeoisie (specially since Buñuel is involved); however, the Alcorizas' storyline is more a criticism towards laziness and ignorance (and alcoholism while we are at it) than anything else. Certainly the rich bourgeoisie end up the worst, with Ramiro's family being spoiled and lazy but, the poor are also far from being noble. The real nobility, according to "El Gran Calavera", ultimately comes from the mix of knowledge and hard work, represented by poor yet hardworking Pablo (Rubén Rojo), Ramiro's brother Gregorio (a wise psychologist), and by Ramiro himself, whom we discover was a skilled businessman and successful self-made man before turning to alcohol.

While once again working as a hired gun, Buñuel certainly must have found the subject closer to his sensibilities than his previous venture with Dancigers in "Gran Casino". The conflicts between social classes found in "El Gran Calavera" and the dissection it does of both the wealthy and the poor (light-hearted perhaps, but still sharp) are themes that Buñuel had been exploring since the 30s, and so this time he plays them for comedic purpose with good results. Toning down the surrealism (but never really abandon it, as the first and last scenes will show) and with a more urban style, Buñuel finally makes his more complete fictional film since his 1929 debut, "Un Chien Andalou" (though considerably less influential). Later Buñuel commented that his understanding of what he calls "normal cinema" was developed while shooting "El Gran Calavera". If we take "normal cinema" as "conventional narrative cinema" then yes, it does show him with greater domain of the craft, and finally able of making the movie his own without betraying neither himself nor the story.

Acting through the film is of great quality, as while the genre and style call the cast for overacting, it never really feels exaggerated, and fits naturally within the near satirical tone Buñuel gives to the story. Naturally, it's mainly Fernando Soler's show, and he truly makes the most of it. As Ramiro, Soler goes from bumbling drunken buffoon, to a wisecracking Groucho-like wit, and then to the strong patriarchal figure that made him an icon in Mexican cinema. As Ramiro's brother Ladislao, Fernando's real life brother Andres Soler delivers a solid performance, and along Maruja Grifell (who plays his wife Milagros), are the comedic highlight of the film, both being appropriately hammy and explosively over-the-top. The younger cast is not as lucky, but for the most part they make a good job. Gustavo Rojo plays another over-the-top character, Ramiro's son Eduardo, but unlike Grifell and Soler, he is more annoying than funny. Finally, Rosario Granados as Virginia and Rubén Rojo as Pablo are the romantic couple of the film, and while effective, at times they lack passion as a couple.

Buñuel's second venture in Mexican cinema is certainly a more successful one than his previous "Gran Casino". For starters, the Alcorizas' story is better built and has a lot more energy, with every character receiving enough time to get to like them. True, they are initially a bunch of typical stereotypes in a typical fish-out-of-water scenario, but the way the story unfolds (and Buñuel's directing of his cast) make them fresh and new again, almost realistic and natural. On the down side, despite the film's charm, it can't avoid some of its problems. Some actors do feel at times too theatrical, and overall the overacting style used in the film may not be everyone's cup of tea. Also, Ezequiel Carrasco's work as cinematographer is good but clearly uninspired, a shame since the story goes to different settings (from Ramiro's mansion to the miserable apartment building he takes his family) that could had been enhanced with a better work. In general, the film's production values are clearly lower than in "Gran Casino" but, to his credit, Buñuel makes the most out of them, relays on his cast and overall builds up a better film.

Certainly, "El Gran Calavera" is nowhere near the work Buñuel would make later so, it would be easy to dismiss it as a light-hearted comedy done for hire and of interest for Buñuel's fans only; however, despite its many shortcomings, "El Gran Calavera" truly has a certain magic and special charm that make it a quite enjoyable story to watch y its own means. Closer to Buñuel's idiosyncrasies, "El Gran Calavera" is a return to the social criticism that Buñuel loved in his films, although here we have him making of Ramiro an oddly sympathetic portrait of a member of the bourgeoisie. The film became a huge success when released, and helped Buñuel to build a good reputation as a responsible and hard-working director, able to work efficiently with limited resources. It would be thanks to this success that Buñuel became finally able to make a film of his own choice. And his choice would be to make what's now considered amongst the best Mexican films of all time: "Los Olvidados".

7/10
-------------------------------

Gran Casino (Tampico) (1947)

The political climate in continental Europe during the 30s was quite convoluted and the rise of Nazism in Germany and the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War meant the exile for many of its inhabitants. Amongst them was Spaniard filmmaker Luis Buñuel, who moved to the U.S. and found a job in the dubbing department of Warner Brothers. Blacklisted for his communist ties and unsatisfied with his job, Buñuel accepted an invitation by old friend Denise Tual, to direct a film for her husband, producer Roland Tual, in Mexico. Thanks to Tual, Buñuel met French producer Oscar Dancigers, another refugee who had escaped from World War II in 1939. Dancigers had established in Mexico an independent film production company that found some success during World War II. Tual's project was canceled but Dancigers wanted to work with Buñuel, so he offered him a job directing a musical film with two of Mexico's most popular stars: Mexican singer Jorge Negrete and Argentinian singer Libertad Lamarque. "Gran Casino" was the film that inaugurated Buñuel's Mexican period.

Also known as "Tampico" (the place the film is set), the movie is set in the early years of the twentieth century and tells the story of friends Gerardo (Jorge Negrete) and Demetrio (Julio Villarreal), two prison cell-mates who after escaping from prison, find job in an oil company owned by Argentinian José Enrique Irigoyen (Francisco Jambrina). Irigoyen is an idealistic entrepreneur, but his plans go against those of Heriberto (Agustín Isunza), local gangster and owner of the Grand Casino of the title. Heriberto kidnaps and murders Irigoyen, but the two friends decide to not let Irigoyen down and stand aside his benefactor's ideas, keeping things going at the oil company. Things get more complicated when Irigoyen's sister Mercedes (Libertad Lamarque) arrives and suspects that Gerardo and Demetrio are involved in her brother's disappearance. Her investigation takes her to get a job at the Grand Casino while Demetrio disappears as well. It'll be up to Gerardo to discover the truth and win Mercedes' heart. And sing a variety of tunes while he's at it, or course.

Taking Michel Weber's novel "El Rugido del Paraíso" ("The Roar of Paradise") as basis, the screenplay was written by Mauricio Magdaleno, who had already penned several quite popular Mexican films. By all accounts, "Gran Casino" is pretty much a basic musical melodrama in the style that had been popular in Mexico since 1936's classic "Allá en el Rancho Grande": underdog hero faces the rich and corrupt villain in a rural setting, confusion arises between lovers and there's lots of singing. True, this formula was nothing new, and by 1947, it was already starting to die in front of the noir-inspired urban melodramas of the 50s; however, there is a certain theme in Magdaleno's screenplay that gives this old story some sparks of interest: the political angle of the oil topic, which carries a subtle anti-capitalism theme. Mexico nationalized oil in 1936, and "Gran Casino" initially seems to follow the official idea that private oil companies were evil. Nevertheless, the movie's final answer is to literally blow away the problem about oil.

Basically working for hire with a strictly commercial goal, a formulaic storyline and two popular stars to work with, director Luis Buñuel crafts his film effortlessly and remains for the most part faithful to the typical structure of the musical melodrama. However, even amidst the constrains of the movie's purely commercial intentions, the surrealist artist found places to express his very own idiosyncrasies. The most famous and noticeable of these little touches is probably the surreal way the Trío Calaveras appears out of nowhere to serve as backup chorus for Jorge Negrete's character in every song (surprising even him). Another would be the way Buñuel toys with the political angle of the story. Taking thinly veiled jabs at capitalism and even Nazism; Buñuel seems to make oil and politics ultimately unimportant for our very human characters, in an apparent preference for anarchism. There is also a complete rejection to sentimentalism, so passionate kisses are avoided, resulting in a film that plays like a melodrama, but at the same time is also the antithesis of melodrama.

As written above, "Gran Casino" was conceived specially to feature the talents of stars Jorge Negrete and Libertad Lamarque. Both respected singers and actors, their performances in the film result effective and appropriate. Nothing spectacular, but both get the job done without problem. As Buñuel himself stated later, the idea was to get them to sing and sing a lot, so their talents are exploited to full effect in several musical numbers that showcase their quality. Unfortunately, they never sing a duet in the film (strange, being this a musical with romance), although this may be part of Buñuel's choice to avoid sentimentalism. The rest of the cast is for the most part good, with Meche Barba standing out as the sultry femme fatal of the Casino. She truly gives her role a strong presence that certainly, leaves a lasting impression (considering how limited her character is, that's quite an accomplishment). Also worth of notice is the comic timing of Fernande Albany as the perpetually drunk French refugee Nanette.

Unfortunately, despite having all the ingredients of classic Mexican musical melodramas, Buñuel's "Gran Casino" fails to convince and ends up an unsatisfying experience. And the reason is ultimately that yes, it has everything it should have (beautiful songs, great singing, good performances, Jack Draper's ace cinematography, bits of suspense, action and comedy... well, everything), but it never goes beyond its own unoriginal commonness. True, Buñuel's touches are scattered through the film, but only as brief occurrences, as if cowardice or boredom (probably the latter) prevented him of going any further with it, leaving the feeling of an effective yet ultimately uninspired piece of work. By 1947, musical melodramas in rural settings (the "Comedia Ranchera") were old news, and Mexican audiences' preference was verging towards urban settings in dramas, noir thrillers and even comedies. Also, it's worth to point out that while their performances are really good, both Negrete and Lamarque look a tad too old for their roles, something specially noticeable in Lamarque's case.

Given its place in Buñuel's career as a completely mainstream commercial film between his early surrealist works and the success of "Los Olvidados", it's easy to dismiss it as a mistake in the master's filmography (the fact that it flopped at the box office does not help). Nevertheless, there are good things to appreciate in "Gran Casino", particularly the singing of both Negrete and Lamarque, and Jack Draper's work of cinematography. Granted, that may not be enough, but it's something. Personally, I think that amongst its flaws, the worst thing that "Gran Casino" has against it is the reputation of Buñuel himself, which makes the unoriginality of this little musical to feel a worse crime than what it is. In the end, "Gran Casino" is by no means a bad movie, just a quite average one. But it was only the beginning of Buñuel's career in Mexico.

6/10
 -------------------------------

The Big Sleep (1946)

Considered as a classic example of the film noir genre of filmmaking, Howard Hawks' "The Big Sleep" is famous not only for the complexity of its convoluted plot, but also for the high quality of its dialogs (and its rapid fire delivery) as well as the legendary coupling of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Oddly enough, the movie's most famous traits were not in the film's original version, and became the result of a series of changes and additions Hawks did to the film after the main shooting ended. The original version had less romance, and a better explained plot; it was only after the success of the two stars as a couple that it was decided to add more scenes between them, and the final version of "The Big Sleep" as we know it was born. Time proved that the changes were worthy, as now that both versions are available it is easy to pick a favorite. This review of "The Big Sleep" is based on the 1946 final version, as it's hard not to prefer the explosive pairing of Bogie and Bacall over the less convoluted original (but definitely less fun) cut.

In "The Big Sleep", private detective Philip Marlowe (Bogart) makes a visit to Gen. Sternwood (Charles Waldron), an old handicapped man who has a case for him. Sternwood tells Marlowe that he wants him to take care of the gambling debts of her younger daughter Carmen (Martha Vickers), as she is being blackmailed by a bookseller named Geiger (an uncredited Theodore Von Eltz). Marlowe takes the job, but before leaving he is confronted by Sternwood's other daughter, Vivian (Lauren Bacall), who wants Marlowe to find out what happened to their former employee (and her father's friend) Sean Regan, who simply disappeared under mysterious circumstances a month earlier. Marlow finds Geiger and follows him home, but the plot thickens when he finds Geiger dead in his home, killed by a mysterious man and Carmen in the crime scene out of her mind while high on drugs. A hidden camera with an empty cartridge is in the crime scene and soon Marlow will discover that Geiger's death is only the tip of the iceberg. And it all seemed like a simple blackmail case.

Based on Raymond Chandler's influential novel of the same name, "The Big Sleep" is definitely one wild ride to a dark world filled with gangsters, femme fatals, pornographers and drug addicts; in simple words, the epitome of the Film Noir kind of stories with the character of Philip Marlow achieving his status as one of the genre's biggest icon. The script (by the excellent team of William Faulkner, Leigh Brackett and Jules Furthman) follows closely the novel's story, but of course, with some additions, most of them being the exchanges of dialogs between Bogart and Bacall, added in an attempt to further exploit the couple's popularity with the audience. It is in this series of dialogs where the true magic of "The Big Sleep" is, as with the focus turned to the relationship between the couple, it becomes more enjoyable to navigate through the complex ambiguity of the plot. Now, this is not to say that the plot is boring, on the contrary, the delightfully perverse darkness of the complex plot in "The Big Sleep" is a top notch example of the dark worlds of film noir.

As usual, Howard Hawks' direction is direct, natural and straightforward, with the dialogs having major importance. Hawks lets the dialogs flow and drive the movie, while at the same time remaining true to the Noir style of its hard boiled source novel. It is easy to notice that Hawks considered the characters to be more important than his story, as the film focuses entirely on their actions instead of the results of those actions. It is this style what makes the film work, as he makes sure that the many supporting characters of the film receive a moment to shine in scenes of great emotion and juicy lines of dialog. However, Noir is also, a very visual style, and in this aspect Hawks doe snot disappoint, making "The Big Sleep" virtually a textbook of how to make a movie in the Noir style; with the excellent cinematography by Sidney Hickox being a major highlight of the movie, and the subtle yet appropriate score by Max Steiner creating the proper atmosphere of decadence that runs through the film as Marlowe gets deeper and deeper inside this dark world.

Being that the screenplay makes the characters the main focus, the performances by the cast are essential for the film. Bogart's portrayal of Raymond Chandler's best-known character, Phillip Marlowe, easily ranks as one of the greatest icons of the Film Noir genre, in a legendary performance only equaled by Lauren Bacall's Vivan Sternwood. Bacall's Vivian may not look as strong as other "Hawksian women" at first sight, but Bacall makes her a vivid force of nature. Bogie and Bacall's chemistry on screen was explosive, and Hawks knew exactly how to use it for his benefit. "The Big Sleep" is certainly one of the best (if not THE best) film with the legendary couple. As many have pointed out, Martha Vickers is a highlight of the film, stealing every scene she is in with her delightful portrayal of the wild spoiled brat Carmen Sternwood. A remarkable group of actors make the supporting roles of the film to come alive, each one of them adding their talents to the movie with excellent results. Dorothy Malone and Elisha Cook Jr. stand out among the rest by stealing the small scenes they appear.

The overtly complex plot may be considered by many as a flaw of the movie, specially as it is quite hard to follow at first and may even give the feeling of running through a constant series of plot holes. However, this ambiguous way of unfolding the story is just another device Hawks uses to keep the story character driven. It may seem at first that Hawks doesn't care too much for the plot, but this overtly complex puzzle reflects what Marlowe himself is experiencing, and in many ways makes the audience to identify with the detective and his work trying to solve the mystery of who is blackmailing who. In the end, what Hawks seems to go after is in building a relationship between Marlowe and the audience, with his case and his relation to Vivian getting more and more complicated each time. So, it is not the actual case what matters, but its effects in the characters. True, it is certainly difficult to follow the plot at first, but the way Faulkner and company have written the script certainly makes up for this difficulty.

Probably "The Big Sleep" may not be everybody's cup of tea, with its ambiguous story, dark cynical tone and overall bleak view on the world; however, I personally think that anyone interested in the history of cinema should give it a try. Granted, it's not an easy view, but it's a quite rewarding one. There's a certain magic in the Bogart-Bacall pairing that's captivating even to these days, and the whole visual style, classy and obscure, just oozes unadulterated noir. It also showcases some of the best performances by Bogie and Bacall ever and shows director Howard Hawks, that famous Jack-of-all-trades of Hollywood, proving his talent and versatility in the Film Noir genre. It certainly would be advisable to check the original cut as well, if only to get a different take on the film as a whole. Filled with unforgettable characters, "The Big Sleep" is one of those films that truly have earned a place amongst those movies one can simply label as: A real classic.

9/10
-------------------------------

The Amazing Mr. X (1948) @ Cult Reviews!

Once again I have written a review for Cult Reviews, that site devoted to horror and cult cinema that offers me a space to write from time to time. This time the film in question is Bernard Vorhaus' "The Amazing Mr. X" (1948), a very interesting thriller that fuses horror with the style and topics of film noir in quite a remarkable way. It is the story of a phony spiritualist played by Turhan Bey (known for his work in "The Mummy's Tomb") and his intrusion in the life of a rich widow (played by Lynn Bari). It's quite a surprise, but unfortunately, the film also suffers from some problems, but well, you'll find a more detailed opinion about it on the site.

Cult Reviews also offers a very fun review of that little gem of comedy and horror named "Teeth" (2007), an interesting overview of the indie exploitaiton flick about vomit and other fluids called "Slaughtered Vomit Dolls" (2006), and a trip back to the 80s with Charles McCrann's "Toxic Zombies". Also, for the first Cult Reviews features a full length movie, "Dementia 13", and I'm told that other films in the public domain will have a showcase there in the future.

So, keep supporting Cult Reviews!



-------------------------------

Oliver Twist (1948)

After having begun his career as a director by the hand of writer Noel Coward (adapting three of Coward's plays into successful films), British filmmaker David Lean moved to a classic author of English literature for his next project: Charles Dickens. The novel chosen for his next film was "Great Expectations" and, released in 1946, the movie became a great success, and soon began to be celebrated as one of the best film versions of a Dickens novel. Still, it wouldn't be the only time David Lean would tackle a work by the popular writer, as two years later Lean re-assembled his team and produced a new adaptation of one of Dickens' most popular books: "The Adventures of Oliver Twist". It wasn't the first time "Oliver Twist" had been taken to the big screen, as in fact it had been adapted several times since the early days of cinema; however, since the arrival of sound only one adaptation had been made (in 1933), but it was a forgettable mediocre film, leaving "Oliver Twist" without a proper adaptation. David Lean's film would change that forever.

During one stormy night in Victorian England, an unknown pregnant woman arrives to a parish workhouse. There, the woman gives birth to a boy, but dies moments later, leaving the child a orphan and under the care of the Poor Law. The boy grows up and is named Oliver Twist (John Howard Davies), and on his ninth birthday, he is taken to work at the workhouse like the rest of the children. Living in starvation, the kids chose one of them to ask for more food, and luck puts that task on Oliver's shoulders. The boy's petition causes an uproar, and it's decided to offer Oliver as an apprentice. Mr. Sowerberry (Gibb McLaughlin), an undertaker, decides to take Oliver with him, and for a moment the future looks bright for the young boy. Unfortunately, the jealousy of Mr. Sowerberry's other apprentice, Noah Claypole (Michael Dear), gets him in trouble and forces him to move to London. In the big city, Oliver will join a group of juvenile delinquents lead by an old man called Fagin (Alec Guiness), discover the dark side of London as well as the truth about his past.

Adapted to the screen by Stanley Haynes and David Lean himself, this version of "Oliver Twist" is considerably darker than the previous ones, following the novel's spirit by putting more emphasis on the grim reality of Oliver's life than on the comedy (although it does keep Dickens' humor) or the tenderness of the title character. In fact, Oliver is made less cute, less sweet, still a tragic victim, but a more realistic one. Unlike previous interpretations, this Oliver could be every working, vagabond child; because even when Lean keeps the Oliver's natural nobility and his secret the main plot of the story, the darkness of London streets and its inhabitants seem to be the focal point of the story, as a great deal of character development is done with them. While a relatively faithful version of the novel, it takes more liberties than previous versions, mainly in the omission or reduction of certain subplots and characters, although this was probably done to put more attention to the "main set" of characters in "Oliver Twist".

Now, where the film shines is without a doubt in the amazing way Lean brings to life Dickens popular story. Using the remarkably beautiful work of cinematography done by Guy Green, Lean creates a powerful, haunting vision of Victorian London that, while being a highly stylish mix of grim film Noir and nightmarish expressionism, it still makes a wonderful portrayal of the novel's world. This may sound like a contradiction, but it works: against all odds, the exaggerated, Gothic darkness of Lean's London makes a perfect combination with the novel's grim realism and the city's urban decadence. Taking care of every detail, and giving inventive uses to the camera, Lean and Green make of every scene, of every image a work of art, possessing a beauty that's almost supernatural. Certainly, set designers T. Hopewell Ash and Claude Momsay also deserve recognition for their excellent work. But even when the visual beauty of the film is already a testament of Lean's skill, his work with the cast is also commendable, as he brings memorable performances from most of them.

The son of writer Jack Davies, young John Howard Davies was a newcomer to cinema when he was casted as Oliver, and brought a natural charm and naiveté to his performance as the little orphan. As Fagin, Alec Guiness appears in one of his most celebrated and hotly debated roles. Guiness creates a very interesting villain, whom is at times jovial and cheerful with "his children" but who can also be ruthless and cruel. Perfectly embodying his character, Guiness delivers a masterful performance, although at times his Fagin feels a tad clichéd. As the imposing Bill Sikes, Robert Newton is simply amazing, as he makes a complex character out of a role that tends to be downplayed as a tough brute. Specially in the last third, Newton truly makes Sikes' emotions to shine through his eyes. Same could be said of Kay Walsh (Lean's wife at the time), whom despite being a bit old for her role, is remarkable as Nancy and makes the perfect counterpart to Newton's villain. A young Anthony Newley appears as the Artful Dodger, marking the beginning of the actor's bright career with a great performance.

Personally, I tend to agree with the general consensus of this being "the definitive version" of Dickens' novel in the sense that, while it has taken great liberties with the source novel, it's the one that remains the most loyal to its spirit. One interesting, and notorious thing about Lean's "Oliver Twist" is that while other versions cast the title role with cuteness, sweetness or innocence in mind, in Lean's film John Howard Davies looks, if anything, melancholic. An overwhelming melancholy that hides more than what it tells is the trademark of Lean's Oliver, and that melancholy extends to the rest of the film. Unfortunately, the film found problems with distribution, as some had problems with Alec Guiness' performance as Fagin, which was seen as antisemitic. I think that the problem was that, while it's a terrific performance, at times it feels too much like a caricature, which some have interpreted as antisemitic due to its uses of stereotypes. Personally, I don't find it offensive in any way, but it does feel a bit stereotypical at times.

While he's certainly better known for his work in some of Hollywood's most amazing epic films (such as "The Bridge on the River Kwai", "Lawrence of Arabia" and "Doctor Zhivago"), the early British films by David Lean are already proof of his great talent as a director. 1948's version of "Oliver Twist" is one of the better examples, as it's a film that by using a well-known story, creates one of the most beautiful works of art done in black and white photography. Haunting, dark, and wonderfully atmospheric, this version of "Oliver Twist" is, like Lean's "Great Expectations", one of the best adaptations of Dickens ever done. Comparing this film to the previous sound version, one not only notices how much had the art of cinema advanced in 15 years, but also how a film can change when it's a talented eye what's behind the camera.

9/10
-------------------------------

Allá en el Rancho Grande (1949)

In more than one way, 1936's "Allá en el Rancho Grande" was the film that inaugurated the Golden Age of Mexican cinema. It was not only the country's first huge box office hit, but also the first Mexican film to be exported to foreign markets and the first to win an international prize (Best Cinematography at Venice in 1938). Still, it was a bittersweet victory for its director, Fernando De Fuentes, because its tremendous commercial success proved him that audiences preferred music and light comedy over his previous, darker, more complex and more personal films (his three wonderful films about the Mexican Revolution for example). While his great skill and talented vision kept aiming for great artistry (and even achieved it, as 1943's "Doña Bárbara" proves), his work remained mostly in the commercial side of cinema, making a series of musical comedies with popular actor Jorge Negrete. In fact, along Negrete he would revisit Rancho Grande in 1949, in a color remake of that very first hit, "Allá en el Rancho Grande".

"Allá en el Rancho Grande" ("Over at the Big Ranch") is the story of José Francisco (Jorge Negrete) and Felipe (Eduardo Noriega), friends since childhood at the Hacienda of Rancho Grande. Felipe has inherited the ranch, and makes his good friend the farm manager of Rancho Grande. José Franciso is secretly in love with Cruz (Lilia Del Valle), an orphan who has been working as a maid for José Francisco's godmother Ángela (Lupe Inclán) since they arrived to Rancho Grande. Ángela has never liked Cruz and always treats her bad, so now that he is the farm manager, José Francisco is decided to marry her in order to take her somewhere else. All he needs is money, so he goes to another ranch to compete in a horse race. In the meantime, Ángela needs money too so, knowing that Felipe likes Cruz a lot, she conceives a plan to get the money she needs and get rid of Cruz at the same time. This will unleash a series of misunderstandings that will put Felipe and José Francisco's friendship to the test.

This remake of "Allá en el Rancho Grande" uses essentially the very same screenplay the original did, which was written by director Fernando De Fuentes and Antonio Guzmán Aguilera, based on a story by Guzmán Aguilera and his sister Luz. This means that other than a few minor changes, those familiar with the original won't find anything new in this aspect, as even the dialogs are almost exactly the same in both versions. Filled with all the basic elements of the very Mexican sub-genre of "Comedia Ranchera" (literally "Rancher Comedy"), the Guzmáns' original story took the always popular theme of a rural love triangle and gave it a tone of light comedy, playing with music, folklore and classic Mexican stereotypes to make it an idealized, romantic vision of Mexican identity. And despite being clichéd and predictable (like the original), the story works, mainly because of the way the characters (as stereotyped as they are) interact with each other and the gags and emotions that result of those interactions.

Not only De Fuentes' second version of "Allá en el Rancho Grande" used the same script, it was also almost a shot by shot remake of it. However, the major difference between them are that the remake was conceived with the idea of giving major importance to songs and the color technology achieved by Cinecolor. Having directed Mexico's first color film (1942's "Así Se Quiere en Jalisco"), De Fuentes was familiar with the process, so he decided to take advantage of color and make this version a bit more stylish, moving away from the slightly more natural vision of the original and instead using Carlos Toussaint's production design and Jack Draper's cinematography to achieve a lavish, more idealized vision (this is quite notorious in two scenes: the cockfight and the march at dusk after it). Unfortunately, the version I watched was in black and white, but even seen without color De Fuentes' intentions are very obvious as the scenes are planned to showcase this colorful vision of Mexico.

As written above, music also gets a bigger role in this film, and that's definitely because of the presence of Jorge Negrete. A remarkable talent, Negrete once again delivers an effective performance as farm manager José Francisco, proving again with his natural charm and extraordinary singing ability why was he called "El Charro Cantor" ("The Singing Charro"). Sadly, Negrete faces a problem that his great talent alone can't overcome: his age. It's not that he fails to deliver, the problem is simply that Jorge Negrete is just a bit too old for the role, and in this case, it shows. José Francisco's main traits are a mix of bravery and naiveté, and Negrete is just too old for showing them in a natural way. If he was 10 years younger, he would had been the perfect lead actor for "Allá en el Rancho Grande" (if only he had been in the original). Unfortunately, the rest of the cast isn't as consummated or effective as Negrete, and at best, are mere inferior copies of the original cast's performances.

While Negrete manages to deliver, Eduardo Noriega is wooden and stiff as Felipe, lacking the class and presence the character required. Even if he (like Negrete) does look like a real Charro, his work is pretty mediocre, easily overshadowed by the rest of the cast. As Cruz, Lilia Del Valle doesn't feel natural in her role, looking forced and at odds with her character. If there's anyone besides Negrete who manages to do a good job, that's comedian Armando Soto "Chicote", whom truly makes his character his own, despite playing the most stereotyped of all. Given the uneven performances by the cast, it seems as if De Fuentes was more focused on the visual look of the film than in his cast, but that's not the film's worst problem. The real problem is that, like Negrete, 1949's "Allá en el Rancho Grande" simply feels old. Being a shot by shot remake of the film that started it all, the movie's gags are tired and the whole thing clichéd, as in only 13 years the "Comedia Ranchera" became the ruling genre of Mexican cinema, and this film was like a step back in time.

Personally, I'm not against the idea of remakes, as I think that they are often good chances to do things differently or improve failures, but I also think that to do this is harder than it seems. De Fuentes' second version of "Allá en el Rancho Grande" had a good basis (to add color to a classic story), but he failed to see that the technological update wouldn't be enough for a genre like comedy, which tends to be in constant change, and that the same jokes and situations would feel old and tired very quickly on a second time. Still, the remake of "Allá en el Rancho Grande" has the merit of having some of Negrete's best interpretations, although it's a shame that like De Fuentes' colorful vision, they get wasted on a remake that's just slightly better than your average "Comedia Ranchera".

6/10

Buy "Allá en el Rancho Grande" (1949)

The Mummy's Curse (1944)

One of the several horror franchises Universal produced in the 40s, the saga of Kharis the Mummy started in 1940 with "The Mummy's Hand", which wasn't really a sequel to "The Mummy" (1932), but a complete remake with a tone of comedy and adventure akin to popular film serials. Unlike the original mummy, writer Griffin Jay conceived his monster as an imposing undead corpse under the commands of an ancient sect. In the sequel, "The Mummy's Tomb" (1942), Jay brought back the horror elements and moved the story to America, with the mummy returning 30 years later to kill those who stole Princess Ananka's body in a plot that amazingly predates the slasher formula. 2 years later, Jay gave closure to Kharis' saga with "The Mummy's Ghost", a film that included one of the boldest endings in Universal horror: Kharis taking the hero's love interest to the grave with him. It would had been a nice finale, but Universal decided to produce a new Kharis film the same year. Unfortunately, it lacked the only memorable element in the Kharis' series: a story by Griffin Jay.

Relocated to Louisiana, the story begins when more than 20 years have passed since the last film, and the story of the Egyptian mummy that came to America and drowned with a young woman (Princess Ananka reincarnated) in the swamps is considered to be nothing more than a local legend. However, when an industrial project begins in the rural bayous, workers are afraid that the mummy will awake and start a murderous rampage again, so foreman Pat (Addison Richards) must battle his workers' superstition on a daily basis. To make things worse for him, archaeologists Dr. Ilzor Zandaab (Peter Coe) and Dr. James Halsey (Dennis Moore) arrive with the intention of aiding in the excavations with the hope of finding the two mummies. Problems arise when Dr. Zandaab (actually the current High Priest of Arkham) and his servant Ragheb (Martin Kosleck) find the body of Kharis (Lon Chaney Jr.) and start a new killing spree in order to find Ananka (Virginia Christine), who has also been resurrected.

Replacing Griffin Jay and Henry Sucher in the developing of the story are writers Leon Abrams and Dwight V. Babcock, with Bernard Schubert in charge of the screenplay. While it is true that the previous films weren't exactly what one would call well written, at least Jay and Sucher's stories had a sense of direction and a good amount of original ideas (granted, most of their ideas weren't coupled with good dialogs or competent directing, but at least the concepts weren't that bad). The same can't be said about "The Mummy's Curse", as the plot feels like an unnecessary extension of Kharis' saga that once again repeats the same basic plot of the previous films only this time without having anything new to offer. True, the film has a couple of twists that attempt to make the story more interesting, but in the end it's the same monotonous tale, and it never makes an interesting use to its Cajun location (by the way, it's never explained how the two mummies went from New England to Louisiana). And well, the dialogs are probably amongst the dullest of the entire series.

Probably the only redeemable thing in "The Mummy's Curse" is the way filmmaker Leslie Goodwins creates an atmosphere for the film. Of the four directors the series had, Goodwins is probably the one who makes the best use of cinematography (an excellent work by Virgil Miller) and sound. While the story does nothing with it, Goodwins attempts to take advantage of the Louisiana setting to give the swamps of the film an effective and quite appropriate dark, somber atmosphere, almost what now would be called a "Southern Gothic style. Goodwins is also responsible for one of the best scenes in the entire saga: the resurrection of Princess Ananka, a long and wonderfully shot scene in which Virginia Christine awakes from her slumber in the mud and gradually regains consciousness as her body is cleansed by the water. An experienced craftsman of B-movies, Goodwins really knew how to make a low budget film look great, but unfortunately, his hand with the crew wasn't as talented as his hand with the crew, as the acting in the film is easily the worst of the four films.

As Kharis the mummy, Lon Chaney Jr. makes a good monster, but the role of the silent corpse doesn't really go anywhere and often seems that Chaney was bored of it. Peter Coe plays the obligatory High Priest that must appear in the series, however, Coe makes of Dr. Zandaab the most boring of the series' villians, as he just recites his lines without any apparent motivation. Granted, the series never had good dialogs, but at least his predecessors knew how to supply their characters with the personality the writers failed to include. Martin Kosleck, who plays Zandaab's servant, fares a bit better, although his efforts aren't enough to give the film a proper villian. Unfortunately, the heroes' side isn't any better, as Dennis Moore's performance is pretty much irrelevant and Kay Harding (who plays his romantic interest) isn't of much help despite her beauty and natural charm. If there's someone in the cast who truly did a great job, it was Virginia Christine, who overcomes an awful script and makes a sympathetic character of the doomed Princess.

While it seems as if the movie was plagued with problems, many of those are due to the poor quality of the script used for it. The unexplained relocation of the story to Louisiana is just the tip of the iceberg (granted, continuity wasn't one of Universal's main concerns in its horror series, but this time it was exaggerated), as the plot faces the simple yet enromous problem of being boring. Despite the efforts of director Goodwins (although he also falls in the infamously traditional overuse of stock footage from the first "Mummy" films), the plot never rises from being a mediocre rehash of the previous films, and fails to add something interesting to the already tired series. The opportunity of a romantic triangle between Moore, Harding and Christine is hinted, but never explored, and like this one several other plot twists are either abandoned or wasted. It's a shame that the only film that attempts to develop the character of Princess Ananaka transforms her into just another damsel in distress after giving her such a promising introduction in her first scenes.

Considering that despite its problems, "The Mummy's Ghost" had such a powerful finale for the saga, it's kind of sad to see Universal's Kharis say goodbye to the silver screen in a movie like "The Mummy's Curse". I mean, the series never was one of Universal's best, but it had a certain special charm that given the results probably came from Griffin Jay's stories, which despite being a tad repetitive in their elements at least had a sense of direction, something this film lacks terribly. It's not that "The Mummy's Curse" is a bad film, it's just that's so mediocre and unnecessary to the series that one wishes the tale of Kharis the mummy would had ended in "The Mummy's Ghost". Still, while Universal Studios' saga of Kharis the mummy ended with this film, the immortal mummy would be resurrected many years later, in Hammer's 1959 film: "The Mummy".

5/10

Buy "The Mummy's Curse" (1944)

The Mummy's Ghost (1944)

The decade of the 40s saw the legendary monsters of Universal Studios horror films dwell into B movie territory, with several sequels for their classic stories released to cash in their status as popular franchises. The addition of the Wolf Man (from the popular 1941's film of the same name) to Universal's rooster of creatures of the night significantly helped the "Frankenstein" and "Dracula" series to be more interesting, but the tales of the Invisible Man and Kharis the Mummy, the other two series that Universal kept resurrecting in the 40s weren't that lucky. The saga of Kharis the Mummy, which had found a somewhat satisfactory closure in Harold Young's average yet effective tale of horror and mystery, "The Mummy's Tomb" (1942), was once again brought to life in 1944, with the release of two films that kept the ancient Egyptian mummy roaming the streets of the United States: "The Mummy's Ghost" and "The Mummy's Curse". Both films formed a relatively new story arc, but unfortunately, neither would take the mummy to the top again.

Soon after the events of "The Mummy's Tomb", Andoheb (Geaorge Zucco), High Priest of Arkan, finds that while the Banning family was punished for stealing the body of Princess Ananka, her body could not be recovered because his last herald (Turhan Bey) was killed and the living mummy Kharis (Lon Chaney Jr.) stopped before completing the mission. So, Andoheb once again decides to send a new herald, Yousef (John Carradine), with the mission of recovering both mummies. Back in America, famous Egyptologyst Prof. Matthew Norman (Franke Reicher) deciphers the hieroglyphs detailing how to resurrect Kharis and tries the formula. But Kharis' resurrection also has strange effects in a beautiful woman named Amina (Ramsay Ames), whom in a state of trance follows Kharis. When the ancient mummy kills Prof. Norman, an amnesiac Amina is found near the crime scene, so she becomes the prime suspect. The mystery of the link between Amina and Kharis will be the biggest test for recently arrived Yousef, and for Amina's boyfriend Tom (Robert Lowery).

Once again writers Griffin Jay and Henry Sucher are the ones who conceived a new chapter for the saga, but this time with the aid of Brenda Weisberg in the screenplay's development. While nothing really special, the story is not really bad, and like the previous installment, Jay and Sucher do offer several new ideas in the film's concept. For starters, it's interesting to finally see Kharis as an independent entity, a loose cannon that the Priest cannot control for sure. Of course, this was hinted in the past, but only in this chapter gets fully stated and is essential part of the plot. Like the previous film, "The Mummy's Ghost" is a conscious attempt of making the story a bit darker in tone, and while this isn't completely successful (as the story is also filled with the familiar clichés and dull dialog of the previous film), there is one moment worthy of mention that elevates this film from its mediocrity: it's ending. Bold and atypical, the movie's finale is easily the best among the very few good things in the entire saga of Kharis the mummy.

Director Reginald Le Borg was no stranger to B movie horror when he got the task of making "The Mummy's Ghost", as he had previously done a couple of Inner Sanctum mystery films for Universal (as well as one of the Studio's horror films about jungle women). This experience would be of great help, as unlike his predecessor, director Le Borg was more in tune with what the writers had really in mind for the series, resulting in a better realized film of mystery and suspense (although considering the previous film, this is probably not that amazing). Giving good use to cinematographer William A. Sickner's work, Le Borg creates a film that's creepy and atmospheric, and at several moments almost manages to fully capture the melancholy that the story requires (a melancholy akin to the one of 1932's original film). Still, while Le Borg was an effective craftsman able to get the job done, there is very little originality in his work, and one could say that he just efficiently translated the words to the screen. Although I must say that at least he didn't do it in a dull way.

The cast is in general quite average, as even when some of its members do their best with what they got, others are terribly mediocre at best (and painfully bad at worst). Unfortunately, lead actor Robert Lowery falls in the second category, as his performance as Tom is amongst the worst the series has seen. Unconvincing and stiff, Lowery was a poor choice for lead actor, specially when the antagonist is a scene stealing John Carradine that manages to be the first High Priest that's actually menacing in every way (Zucco was intellectual, and Bey was mysterious, but Carradine is imposing). The impossibly beautiful Ramsay Ames is another nice addition to the cast, although her romance with Lowery's character feels unconvincing. However, since her performance improves when her costar is not in the screen, it's not hard to suspect that Lowery is the one to blame. As written above, the character of Kharis the mummy received a bit more of development in this installment, and Lon Chaney does his best to take advantage of this, in his best performance as the living mummy.

Like "The Mummy's Tomb", this movie suffers from one major problem: the fact that it's first half is essentially a rehash of the previous film, as it includes the by now cliched plot device of a priest sent to America (one could imagine that Andoheb would try a different plan by now) and the obligatory summary of Kharis' tale, which naturally means the obligatory use of recycle footage from the previous movies. While this is obviously done to save money, it's still a lazy and hardly justifiable resource that really cheapens the movie. The film also suffers from a case of poor writing of the dialog, although it's not as bad as the previous film, and in fact, compared to that movie, it is actually an improvement. However, at least the previous film had decent lead actors, because this time Robert Lowery's performance makes it look even worse. Still, to Lowery's favor I must say that writers Jay and Sucher seemed to be more interested in their villians than in the hero, something that gets reflected in the already mentioned film's grand finale, where the dark tone they tried to give to the series finally shines the most.

Again, like its predecessor, "The Mummy's Ghost" is a case of a great concept gone wrong. Watching the films in order, it seems to me that writers Jay and Sucher really had a good idea of where they wanted to take the story, but unfotunatley factors like low budget, short production times, bad directors (Young in "The Mummy's Tomb") or bad actors (Lowery in this one), always conspired against their good intentions, and left the saga of Kharis the mummy as limited as the mummy's mobility. Still, "The Mummy's Ghost" is a nice improvement over the previous film, mainly because of the Carradine and Chaney's performance, and its extremely powerful and meaningful ending which, considering that the following (and final) film in the series is the worst ("The Mummy's Curse", produced that very same year), it's a shame that this remarkably bold way to conlcude the film was not the series grand finale.

6/10

Buy "The Mummy's Ghost" (1944)