Thunder On The Hill (1951)

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You did not come here. You were led here by Our Lord. Sanctimonious Sister Mary Bonaventure (Claudette Colbert) is leading the team at the convent/hospital of Our Lady of Rheims, a hillside refuge for a community in Norfolk during a terrible flood. Her colleagues dislike her intensely – but Mother Superior (Gladys Cooper) knows that she is motivated by guilt over the death by suicide of her sister. When Valerie Cairns (Ann Blyth, the wicked daughter from Mildred Pierce) arrives accompanied by the police it takes a while for the penny to drop as to why she’s rejecting Sister Mary’s kindness:  she’s a murderess en route to the gallows at prison in Norwich. She’s due to be hanged the following morning but the breaking of the dyke and the downing of telephone lines now mean her execution is delayed. She insists on her innocence and Mary believes her – because she knows what guilt really is. There are a number of people at the convent who are hiding guilt relating to the death by overdose of Valerie’s crippled composer brother including the wife (Anne Crawford) of the doctor on duty (Robert Douglas) who reacts with shock to a photograph of the murdered man. Her husband promptly sedates her.  As Sr Mary researches the newspapers and is given an unsigned letter by slow-witted handyman Willie (Michael Pate) that implicates a third party in the murder, Sr Mary determines to bring Valerie’s fiance Sidney (Philip Friend) from Norwich by boat with Willie.  The handyman destroys the boat so that Valerie cannot be taken to be hanged. The police sergeant is now going to charge Sr Mary with interfering in the course of justice and the guilty party is closing in on her while she is reprimanded by Mother Superior … Slickly told, atmospheric thriller directed by Douglas Sirk with an unexpected take on the melodrama combined with an Agatha Christie group of conventional characters hiding something nasty all gathered in the one building.  There’s a marvellous scene in a belltower when the murderer reveals themselves. The contrasting figures of the desperate and hysterical Blyth and calm but determined Colbert make this a fascinating spin on a crime thriller with a play on the concept of divine intervention which would also be pivotal in Sirk’s later Magnificent Obsession. An engaging, stylish tale adapted by Oscar Saul and Andrew Solt from Charlotte Hastings’ play Bonaventure, enhanced by some very fine performances and sharp dialogue particularly when it’s delivered by Connie Gilchrist as the acerbic cook Sister Josephine whose insistence on saving newspapers (preferably The Sunday Times) saves the day.

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Stars in My Crown (1950)

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– Good story. – Don’t rush me. A prime example of Americana, based on Joe David Brown’s novel, Joel McCrea is the preacher determined to bring God to the settlement of Walesburg after the Civil War. He has to take the villagers seriously – at gunpoint, to bring them round. In this episodic narrative told by his adopted nephew Dean Stockwell as an adult (voiced by Marshall Thompson) there is a low key romance with church organist Ellen Drew; the arrival of typhoid fever which threatens not just lives but the respect between him and  young doctor James Mitchell;  McCrea’s struggle when he refuses to accept the school well is the cause of the outbreak; and the repeated threats to black farmer Famous (Juano Hernandez) prove this is far from twee.  Indeed when the KKK bring a burning cross to the patch that he has made home you realise this is a lot more than a story of tough love. McCrea is a solid leading man and he is excellent here as a man whose faith is truly tested.There’s really good work from Alan Hale as the Swedish father of five who never goes to church but is always ready to lend a helping hand and James Arness and Amanda Blake feature years before Gunsmoke. This is far from your average western, a keen mix of humour, commentary and drama. Brown adapted his novel but it was the work of the screenwriter Margaret Fitts that’s interesting. She did several screen adaptations and is one of those women who did such good writing for the western genre, including adapting her own novel, The King and Four Queens, which became the Clark Gable movie. This was directed by Jacques Tourneur, a man many consider in the realm of auteur.

The Secret Life of Pets (2016)

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This isn’t really a 3D animation about the secret life of our companion animals:  it’s a highly derivative rewrite of several other movies starting with The Incredible Journey and winding up in a NYC back alley slinging it out with Lady and the Tramp and Toy Story and … but hey! as a committed aiurophile I’m with it most of the way.  Much to his irritation, comfortable little terrier Max gets a Big Brother dog called Duke, they escape their apartment and get caught up with feral cats, flushed pets and then eat themselves almost to the dog pound in a sausage factory. Before joining forces to survive animal control. The war between humans and animals is one of attrition, after all. The backdrops are superb, the voicework is fine for the most part (Kevin Hart doing Snowball the bunny is … odd) although even at 91 minutes it feels, like all animation features, a tad long. If only all humans and their animal friends had happy endings.

How to Lose Friends and Alienate People (2008)

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Or, how British journo Toby Young baited Graydon Carter into employing him at Vanity Fair by parodying him on the cover of Modern Review, back in the day. Sort of. This adaptation of Young’s book  never really hits the scorching masochistic depths of our hero’s desperate quest to get beyond his nose pressing the window of celebland. This is the very inverse of Dale Carnegie, dontcha know. Called ‘Sidney’ here, Young is introduced by nemesis Danny Huston as ‘our very own idiot savant. Without the savant.’ Simon Pegg is the right side of gormless but never truly vicious as our hero so we’re not in John Niven territory here despite the plethora of opportunities he avails of to humiliate himself as publicly as possible. Peter Straughan’s screenplay varies the tale somewhat from the memoir and Robert Weide (an expert in embarrassment from Curb Your Enthusiasm – bliss itself!) handles the material well and it’s fitfully amusing rather than laugh out loud bellyaches all round since the satirical edges have been dulled. The trailer for a Mother Teresa biopic starring Megan Fox is good though. We’re in the male version of The Devil Wears Prada rather than the magazine version of Kill Your Friends. It will come as no surprise to learn that the real Toby Young was banned from the set, so predictably annoying was he to all concerned. (He played himself in a stage adaptation.) Spot all the homages to The Big Lebowski! And dig the pig. And, hey, The Modern Review really was fantastic.