A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

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Showing posts with label Ralph Meeker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ralph Meeker. Show all posts

Saturday, May 2, 2020

Something Wild (Jack Garfein, 1961)

Ralph Meeker and Carroll Baker in Something Wild
Cast: Carroll Baker, Ralph Meeker, Mildred Dunnock, Jean Stapleton, Martin Kosleck, Doris Roberts, Charles Watts, Clifton James, George L. Smith, Ken Chapin. Screenplay: Jack Garfein, Alex Karmel, based on a novel by Karmel. Cinematography: Eugen Schüfftan. Art direction: Albert Brenner, Richard Day. Film editing: Carl Lerner. Music: Aaron Copland.

A young woman is brutally raped on her way home, but she tells no one and next day tries to act as if nothing has happened until she is overcome by the crowds on the subway and faints. A policeman brings her home, where her self-centered mother is more concerned that the neighbors saw her in a police car than about her health. Unable to tolerate her mother's whiny self-centered behavior, she runs away, rents a tiny room in a dirty, run-down tenement, and gets a job as a clerk in a five-and-dime store. But her stand-offish behavior, the result of her distaste for being touched, annoys the other clerks, who ostracize her. Wandering aimlessly through the city streets, she finds herself on a bridge and, in a daze, starts to climb over the railing. She is stopped by a garage mechanic on his way to work, and he persuades her to come back to his basement apartment to rest. In her exhaustion, she agrees, but he later comes home from work falling-down drunk and attempts to rape her. She fights him off, kicking him in the eye when he's down, and he passes out. But she discovers that he has locked the door and she can't escape. When he awakes the next morning, he has no memory of attacking her and thinks that he must have sustained the eye injury in a fight at the bar. But when he leaves for work, he won't let her go and locks the door behind him. She becomes his prisoner, while he pleads for her love and eventually proposes marriage. So far, Jack Garfein's Something Wild succeeds as a harrowing, vivid portrait of lost lives in the city. Carroll Baker gives a fine performance as the young woman, Mary Ann, and Ralph Meeker shifts convincingly from tenderness to menace and back again as her captor, Mike. Mildred Dunnock makes the most of her role as Mary Ann's mother, and there are some good performances by future TV sitcom actresses Jean Stapleton and Doris Roberts, the former as the noisy prostitute who has a room next to Mary Ann's in the tenement, the latter as Mary Ann's co-worker at the five-and-dime, who leads the other clerks in shunning her. Best of all are the cinematography of Eugen Schüfftan, capturing New York City at its grandest and grimmest, and the edgy score by Aaron Copland. But just when things look the most hopeless for Mary Ann, Mike goes out one day without locking the door -- perhaps intentionally -- and she escapes. It's a beautiful spring day in the city and she wanders through Central Park, her spirits reviving, and returns to the apartment where she accepts Mike's proposal. Then it's Christmas and Mary Ann has sent a note to her mother telling where she now lives. The mother visits the basement apartment to plead with Mary Ann to return home, but Mary Ann tells her that this is now her home and moreover that she's pregnant. And on a moment that is fairly drenched with Hollywood-style sentiment, though this has been a fearlessly unsentimental and independently gritty movie, the film ends. I suppose it's possible to take this wrap-up as Garfein's parody of the Hollywood ending, but it's difficult to countenance the film's undercutting of itself any other way, not to mention that it seems to suggest that the trauma of rape can be "cured" by another kind of rape: imprisonment. Something Wild seems to me a collection of brilliant moments and skilled performances, and to provide a compelling portrait of urban alienation whose tone is set with the striking opening credits by Saul Bass. But by losing its integrity of vision at the end, it fails to be a whole film.

Thursday, August 4, 2016

Paths of Glory (Stanley Kubrick, 1957)

Kirk Douglas and Adolphe Menjou in Paths of Glory
Col. Dax: Kirk Douglas
Cpl. Philippe Paris: Ralph Meeker
Gen. George Broulard: Adolphe Menjou
Gen. Paul Mireau: George Macready
Lt. Roget: Wayne Morris
Maj. Saint-Auban: Richard Anderson
German Singer: Christiane Kubrick
Cafe Owner: Jerry Hausner
Chief Judge: Peter Capell
Father Dupree: Emile Meyer
Sgt. Boulanger: Bert Freed
Pvt. Lejeune: Kem Dibbs
Pvt. Maurice Ferol: Timothy Carey
Shell-Shocked Soldier: Fred Bell
Capt. Rousseau: John Stein
Capt. Nichols: Harold Benedict

Director: Stanley Kubrick
Screenplay: Stanley Kubrick, Calder Willingham, Jim Thompson
Based on a novel by Humphrey Cobb
Cinematography: Georg Krause
Art direction: Ludwig Reiber
Film editing: Eva Kroll
Music: Gerald Fried

Kirk Douglas gives an uncharacteristically restrained performance in Paths of Glory, but the real star of the film is director Stanley Kubrick, who gives the big battle scene a kind of choreographed intensity. Kubrick had begun his career as a photographer for Look magazine and had been his own cinematographer on his early short films and his features Fear and Desire (1953) and Killer's Kiss (1955). Although the cinematographer for Paths of Glory is Georg Krause, it's easy to sense Kubrick's direction as he anticipates the battle scene's relentless motion with long takes and tracking shots in the earlier parts of the film, when the camera observes Gen. Broulard persuading Gen. Mireau to commit his troops to the suicidal assault on the German-held "Ant Hill." We follow Broulard and Mireau as they move through the opulent French headquarters (actually the Schleissheim Palace in Bavaria), circling each other as Broulard plays on Mireau's ambition and overcomes his resistance, Then we move to the trenches, a sharp contrast in setting from the palace, where the camera tracks Mireau as he walks down the long narrow ditch, greeting soldiers in a stiff, formulaic way and berating one who is stupefied by shell shock as a coward. The tracking shot of Mireau's tour of the trenches is then repeated with Col. Dax in the moments before the suicidal assault on the Ant Hill, although this time the air is full of smoke and debris from the shelling. Then Dax goes over the top, blowing a shrill whistle to lead his troops, and we have long lateral tracks punctuated by explosions and falling men. Film editor Eva Kroll's work adds to the power of the sequence. If the acting and the screenplay (by Kubrick, Calder Willingham, and Jim Thompson) were as convincing as the camerawork, Paths of Glory might qualify as the masterpiece that some think it is. Douglas, Menjou, and Macready are fine, and Wayne Morris and Ralph Meeker have a good scene together as members of a scouting party on the night before the battle, in which the drunkenness and cowardice of Morris's character has fatal consequences. But the scenes in which the three soldiers court-martialed for the failure of the assault face the prospect of the firing squad go on much too long, and are marred by the overacting of Timothy Carey as the "socially undesirable" Private Ferol and the miscasting of Emile Meyer, who usually played heavies, as Father Dupree. (Carey was actually fired from the film, and a double was used for some scenes.) And the film ends with a mawkish and unconvincing scene in which a captured German girl (the director's wife-to-be, Christiane Kubrick) reduces the French troops to tears with a folk song. Paths of Glory has to be described as a flawed classic.