Ryan’s Daughter (1970)


It’s not a hangin’ matter to be young… but it maybe should be a hangin’ matter for a – man of middle age – to – try and steal the youth from a young girl. Especially, a man like me and a – girl like you. You were meant for the wide world, Rose. Not this place, not this. Rosy Ryan (Sarah Miles) is the daughter of publican Tom (Leo McKern) in a small seaside Irish village during World War One where the nationalist locals taunt the British soldiers stationed nearby in the wake of the failed Easter Rising of 1916. Rosy falls for Master Shaughnessy (Robert Mitchum) the local widowed schoolteacher and imagines they will have an exciting life but he has no interest in sex. Major Randolph Doryan (Christopher Jones) arrives from the Front crippled and suffering from shellshock. Rosy assists him when he collapses in her father’s pub and they commence a passionate relationship as Charles becomes suspicious and the local halfwit Michael (John Mills) finds Doryan’s medal and wears it around the village. The Irish Republican Brotherhood want to retrieve arms from a wrecked German ship offshore but while the villagers assist, Ryan tips off the British and Doryan and his men are waiting for them.  When the villagers put two and two together they conclude that Rosy is the culprit and wreak revenge …  In a week’s time it’s the 110th anniversary of the great British director David Lean’s birth and this was released 47 years ago this weekend. It’s almost St Patrick’s Day and in honour of our favourite national holiday it’s time to watch this again, the hugely controversial film which caused his career immense difficulties. The British critics reserved a rare kind of contempt for the directors who mastered the visual – as though it were inimical to the cinematic form:  look what they did to Michael Powell. But this elicited ire from the other side of the Atlantic too – Roger Ebert believed the scale of the production was antithetical to the size of the story (as though one’s feelings are supposed to be as controlled as those in Brief Encounter. Someone should have told Shakespeare.) It’s hard to understand why this should be from this vantage point – it’s a women’s picture, as so many of his films were – it looks wonderful, the acting is attractive even if Jones’ chops don’t match up to his good looks and the scenario of a problematic marriage between a young woman and a much older stick in the mud is hardly unusual. In fact it originated in Robert Bolt’s desire to make a version of Madame Bovary to star his wife, Miles. It was Lean who suggested transposing the idea to a different setting using the same kinds of characters and construction. Perhaps it’s the issue of the gloriously melodramatic backdrop – the impact of the First World War and the British Government on a remote Irish seaside village. Perhaps it was the timing. Or perhaps reports from the set alienated the budget-conscious journos – Lean waited a full year to get the right kind of storm and took the unit to South Africa to film it because it never materialised while on location in Kerry and Clare. However this was big at the box office and there are moments and scenes to savour even if you feel that John Mills’ performance as the cretin can make you wince betimes. Surrender to the tragic romance and the feeling of a love worth fighting for in an epic drama scored by Maurice Jarre. It’s David Lean, dammit!


The Freshman (1990)

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I had been in New York nineteen minutes and eleven seconds and I was already ruined. Kansas/Vermont/Montana boy Clark Kellogg (Matthew Broderick) is robbed moments after arriving in New York to study film at NYU. When he sees his mugger Victor (Bruno Kirby) through a window several days later during a meeting with his tutor Fleeber (Paul Benedict), he confronts him. Victor promises to return his property and get him a job with his uncle, Carmine Sabatini (Marlon Brando), who turns out to be a Mafia boss. Clark can’t help but notice his uncanny resemblance to The Godfather. His first job (for $500!) is to pick up a komodo dragon from a lot in New Jersey which escapes at a gas station when his roommate Steve (Frank Whaley) opens the car door to smoke. The dragon runs amok in a mall. When Clark tells his mom on the phone about his new job his environmental activist stepdad Dwight (Kenneth Welsh) overhears. Carmine has lined up his daughter Tina (Penelope Ann Miller) to marry Clark. As Clark continues his shady work for Carmine, he discovers an elaborate underworld that has caught the attention of the authorities. He’s chased by men from the Department of Justice who are particularly interested in the wildlife Carmine is importing and he’s persuaded to become an informer. As things come to a head, not everything is what it seems. The endangered species are being prepared for a deluxe meal at a gourmet club where Carmine fleeces the rich for millions … I was once asked at a dinner party what I thought of Bergman. I responded, Ingmar or Andrew? Because that’s the kind of all-round entertaining dinner guest I am! In truth I’ve always enjoyed Andrew Bergman’s movies – they never fail to engage or amuse and this is no different. In fact I’d forgotten just how hilarious this is. You ain’t seen nothing till you’ve seen Brando on ice skates. This is a genuinely funny spoof with lots of endearing performances and a couple of artfully chosen excerpts from a certain pair of classic Mafia movies serve as commentary on the narrative that pastiches them. And if you have ever taken a film studies class you will get a kick out of Benedict’s painfully apt role as the self-obsessed lecturer. Brando is quite brilliant parodying himself and Broderick even out-Ferrises himself in some scenes. Great fun.

The Gunfighter (1950)

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If he ain’t so tough, there’s been an awful lot of sudden natural deaths in his vicinity. Jimmy Ringo (Gregory Peck) is a veteran gunslinger known for being quick on the draw, but his talent inevitably leads to trouble, with others constantly out to challenge him to prove they can best a legend. But Ringo is reformed and all he wants is to be reunited with his estranged family, but he has to contend with various foes, including the ambitious young sharpshooter Hunt Bromley (Skip Homeier) who wants to make his name. Old friend Marshal Strett (Millard Mitchell) assists him in gaining respite in the saloon. As Ringo attempts to reconcile with his schoolteacher wife, Peggy (Helen Westcott) who wants nothing to do with him and doesn’t want their son to finally meet his father, he finds that he can’t easily shake his violent past…  Loosely based on a cousin of the fabled Younger Brothers, this was written by William Bowers and William Sellers with an uncredited rewrite by producer Nunnally Johnson and developed from a story by Sellers and Andre de Toth (no mean director himself). This chamber piece about violence, myth and retribution, with most of its action confined to the saloon where Ringo is safe, was originally intended for John Wayne at Columbia but he despised studio head Harry Cohn, so when Twentieth Century Fox obtained the rights it was offered to Peck, who would make this his second collaboration with director Henry King after their astonishing work on Twelve O’Clock High. One of the bones of contention for Darryl F. Zanuck and Spyros Skouras was Peck’s homegrown moustache, which they reckoned would cost at the box office (and it did!). It is also distinguished by the hallmarks of that studio’s finest productions:  meticulous, spare storytelling with an exacting narrative thread (DFZ hated the original ending and ordered it changed), careful casting (Richard Jaeckel as Eddie,  Mitchell as the Marshal) and a particularly robust and urgent score by Alfred Newman. A top-drawer work, this is one of a few westerns from 1950 which were psychological works, marking a turning point in the maturing of the genre: I’ve written about it on Offscreenhttp://offscreen.com/view/year-of-the-gun.


The Virginian (1946)

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When you call me that – smile. In the 1880s Molly Wood (Barbara Britton) chooses to leave her Vermont home for an exciting life as a schoolteacher in the small Wyoming cattle town of Medicine Bow. Settling into her new home, she’s befriended by a kindhearted but stern ranch foreman known only as the Virginian (Joel McCrea) but she doesn’t like being fooled by him when he has a joke at her expense.  As he attempts to woo the standoffish schoolmarm and she in turn is entranced by his friend Steve (Sonny Tufts!) the Virginian must also deal with a set of cattle rustlers led by the villainous Trampas (Brian Donlevy). When Steve starts working with Trampas the stage is set for a terrible showdown and a conflict of loyalties … Inspired by the true events of the Johnson County War in Wyoming which would also inform Shane and Heaven’s Gate, Owen Wister’s famous play (co-written with Kirk La Shelle and based on Wister’s novel) was adapted by Howard Estabrook and the well-constructed screenplay is by husband and wife writing team Frances Goodrich and Albert Hackett. Wood is terrific as the feisty girl who will not accept McCrea’s advances and nobody wants to tell her the truth about Steve’s defection to the other side of the law. Fay Bainter has a wonderful scene telling her how things are in this frontier world where justice is administered to fit the crime. It’s really well paced with a jaunty score by Daniele Amfitheatrof and some fine production design by Hans Dreier. The final scene is intense. It was McCrea’s last western for Paramount with some of the lovely location filming done on their ranch at Agoura, but he would spend most of the Fifties as a cowboy for other studios. Directed by Stuart Gilmore.


Moonrise (1948)

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Sure is remarkable how dying can make a saint of a man. Danny Hawkins (Dane Clark) is the son of a murderer who was hanged for his crimes. Haunted by his father’s past already in his childhood, the young man is tormented by the young people of the small southern town in which he lives:  the man Jerry Sykes (Lloyd Bridges) whom he crosses in adulthood was one of those children who taunted him about his father. Hawkins’ only friend is Gilly Johnson (Gail Russell), a girl who is falling in love with him. When Hawkins kills Sykes in self-defence, he fears the same fate as his father. When the body is found and Sheriff Clem Otis (Allyn Joslyn) starts closing in, Danny becomes crazed. He jumps off a Ferris wheel at a funfair and nearly strangles  mute Billy Scripture (Harry Morgan) who found Hawkins’ pocket knife near the body. While hiding out in the swamps, Hawkins visits his Grandma (Ethel Barrymore) who tells him the truth about his father’s crime. Hawkins realizes he’s not tainted by bad blood’ and turns himself in … Theodore Strauss’ novel was adapted by Charles F. Haas and its melodramatic potential is mined by renowned Expressionist director Frank Borzage but the narrative falls far short of the genre’s demands. Clark is an odd sort of cove with a big child’s face yet we know from other outings he can do sharp and candid too. Much of the depth comes from Russell, who never fails to move us. Somehow there aren’t enough pieces to make this moody psychological study more than the sum of its parts even if it is clearly a link on the film chain between Sunrise and Night of the Hunter. Pity:  I waited many years to see this!


Blind (2017)

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We’re all just trying to get home I suppose. Suzanne Dutchman (Demi Moore) seems to be a happily married trophy wife. Her husband Mark (Dylan McDermott) is a wolf of Wall Street. At a dinner party Mark speaks to his client Howard (James McCaffrey) who is then caught by an undercover female agent for using and dealing cocaine and does a deal for immunity in exchange for information on Mark’s insider dealing. Mark is then arrested and Suzanne is facing charges and she is sentenced to 100 hours of community service.  She begins reading for visually impaired Bill Oakland (Alec Baldwin) a famous one-hit-wonder author and now a writing professor who is guilt-ridden over his wife’s death in the car crash that blinded him.  They take an instant dislike to each other. But she can’t leave and he needs someone to read his student’s work to him. During her time with Bill, Suzanne develops feelings for him and also finds out about her husband’s affair which leans her towards Bill even more… This is carried mostly by star power by three very likeable performes – although McDermott’s violence is foreshadowed in his presentation of a diamond necklace to his wife in the first scene, as though he’s imprisoning her. We understand the title isn’t just about Oakland, it also serves as a metaphor for Suzanne’s entrapment, blind to her husband’s flaws – and they become very problematic indeed. Her massive wedding ring also signifies the situation – writ large in the first scene with Oakland. Her arrival supplants volunteer Gavin (Steven Prescod) who is really a superfan looking to get into Oakland’s writing class – but even when he takes the job of houseboy he takes advantage and makes off with Oakland’s unfinished second novel. This is really a story about writer’s block, and then some. It has some lovely visuals and interactions but lags a bit in pacing. Still, it’s nice to see these actors who don’t get in front of the cameras enough, as far as I’m concerned. Based on a story by Diane Fisher, this was adapted by John Buffalo Mailer (who also acts here) and directed by Michael Mailer, sons of that very pugnacious writer, Norman.



Say Anything … (1989)

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– Diane Court is a Brain. – Trapped in the body of a gameshow host. Lloyd Dobler (John Cusack) is an underachieving eternal optimist who seeks to capture the heart of Diane Court (Ione Skye) an unattainable high-school beauty and straight-A student who’s been hot-housed by her Dad and barely knows anyone else at high school. She delivers the class valedictorian speech to no appreciative laughs – Dad got it, they don’t. It surprises just about everyone when she goes out with Lloyd to a party where she meets her classmates properly. And it goes much further than even he had dared hope. But her divorced father (John Mahoney) doesn’t approve and it will take more than love to conquer all…  Yup, the one with the boombox!  And what a surprise it was, and remains. A heartfelt, funny and dramatic tale of adolescent love and a first serious relationship after graduation. She’s gorgeous and serious and can Say Anything to her desperately ambitious dad, He’s a kickboxing kook with zero parental obligations (they’re in Germany in the Army) and his only close family in the neighbourhood is his divorced sister (Joan Cusack, his real-life sis) and her little son whom he’s educating early in the martial arts. Cameron Crowe’s debut as writer and director hits a lot of targets with wit, smarts and real empathy for his protagonists who live complex lives in the real world where people go to prison for tax evasion. Lili Taylor has a great role as the semi-suicidal songwriting friend who finally sees through her beastly ex after writing 63 songs about him. Growing up is tough but there’s so much to recognise here not least the fact that every guy in the Eighties had a coat like this! I gave her my heart and she gave me a pen. With lines like this you know you’re not in an ordinary teen romance. This is human, charming and utterly cherishable.


The Red Shoes (1948)

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– Why do you want to dance? – Why do you want to live? Vicky Page (Moira Shearer) is a ballerina torn between her dedication to dance and her desire to love. Her autocratic, imperious mentor (and ‘attractive brute’) Boris Lermontov (Anton Walbrook) who has his own ballet company, urges to her to forget anything but ballet. When his star retires he turns to Vicky. Vicky falls for a charming young composer Julian Craster (Marius Goring) who Lermontov has taken under his wing. He creates The Red Shoes ballet for the impresario and Vicky is to dance the lead. Eventually Vicky, under great emotional stress, must choose to pursue either her art or her romance, a decision that carries deadly consequences… The dancer’s film – or the film that makes you want to dance. An extraordinary interpretation of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale, this sadomasochistic tribute to ballet and the nutcases who populate the performing universe at unspeakable cost to themselves and those around them is a classic. A magnificent achievement in British cinema and the coming of age of the Michael Powell-Emeric Pressburger partnership, it is distinguished by its sheerly beautiful Technicolor cinematography by the masterful Jack Cardiff. It also boasts key performances by dancers Robert Helpmann, Ludmila Tcherina and Leonide Massine with a wordless walk-on by Marie Rambert. The delectable pastiche score is by Brian Easdale. Swoony and unforgettable, this is a gloriously nutty film about composers, musicians, performers, dancers and the obsessive creative drive – to death. Said to be inspired by the relationship between Diaghilev and Nijinsky, this was co-written by Powell and Pressburger with additional dialogue by Keith Winter. It was a huge hit despite Rank’s mealy-mouthed ad campaign and in its initial two-year run in the US at just one theatre it made over 2 million dollars.



Peyton Place (1957)

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Quality is a very good thing in a roll of cloth but it’s very dull on a big date. Mike Rossi (Lee Phillips) arrives in the small New England town of Peyton Place to interview for high school principal, usurping the favourite teacher (Mildred Dunnock). He drives past a shack where Selena Cross (Hope Lange) lives with her mother (Betty Field), little brother and drunken stepfather Lucas (Arthur Kennedy). Selena’s best friend is the graduating class’s star student and wannabe writer Allison Mackenzie (Diane Varsi) whose widowed mother Constance (Lana Turner) has a clothing store and immediately attracts Mike’s interest. Allison has a crush on Rodney Harrington (Barry Coe) heir to the local fabric mill but he only has eyes for trashy Betty (Terry Moore). Allison confides in Norman (Russ Tamblyn) whose watchful mother has altogether too much to do with her shy son. All of the characters attempt to assert their individuality and grow up but malicious rumours, a rape and a suicide followed by a murder are just around the corner as Lucas forces himself on his stepdaughter and Constance reveals to Allison the truth about her obscure origins; then the newspaper carries a story about the bombing of Pearl Harbor … Even decades after Grace Metalious’ novel was published it bore the whiff of scandal and my eleven-year old self carried it as though it were dangerous contraband – which of course it was, for about a minute. Part of its attraction was the back cover photograph of the authoress, a gorgeous young thing with a Fifties Tammy ponytail wearing a plaid shirt, cut offs and penny loafers – it was years before I would learn that this was a model (paid tribute by a shot of Allison in the film) and that Metalious was in reality a bloated alcoholic who died not long afterwards:  not such a role model after all!  The bestselling exposition of a horribly inward looking and vicious group of people in an outwardly lovely small town in Maine gets a meticulous adaptation by John Michael Hayes who was working carefully around the censor yet still managed to craft a moving even shocking melodrama from some explosive storylines arranged through the seasons. Lange comes off best in a film which has some daring off-casting – including Turner as the frigid so-called widow, cannily using her star carnality against the character. (In reality she would encounter her own extraordinary scandal with teenage daughter Cheryl within a year of this film’s release). Lloyd Nolan playing the local doctor has a field day in the showstopping courtroom revelation telling some vicious home truths amid some frankly disbelieving onlookers including the unrepentant gossips. Tamblyn gets one of the roles of his career as Norman, the son who is loved just a little too much by his mom… I hadn’t seen this in a long time but much to my surprise was immediately humming along again with the wonderfully lyrical score by Franz Waxman. In many ways this evocative drama sums up the morality of the Fifties even while being set on the eve of WW2 and the early Forties. A very pleasant, beautifully made and surprising reminder of a book whose opening line I’ve never forgotten:  Indian Summer is like a woman … Ah! The film is sixty years old this year. Directed by Mark Robson.


Matilda (1996)


– Get in the car Melinda! – It’s Matilda! Whatever. Matilda (Mara Wilson) is born into a family that can’t stand her. She’s a genius among trolls and wants to go to school. Father (Danny DeVito) is a gangster and mother (Rhea Perlman) is a tramp. This gifted offspring channels her frustration at their raised voices and anger into telekinesis and when she’s bullied by the violent principal Miss Trunchbull (Pam Ferris) at Crunchem Hall (say it quickly) Elementary School, class teacher Miss Honey (Embeth Davitz) feels her pain and befriends her. Trunchbull is her late father’s step- sister in law and had her put out of the house where her beloved doll is still in her childhood bedroom. When Matilda convinces her of her powers they set out to retrieve it … Roald Dahl’s classic gets a good adaptation by Nicholas Kazan and Robin Swicord (with some changes) but it’s DeVito’s direction that grabs you:  using his typical style of low angles and forced perspective, you are emotionally placed in little Matilda’s horrible domestic experience and left in no doubt as to how she feels – born to the wrong people, displaced in the wrong home, needing friends. For children of all ages, with Paul Reubens as one of two FBI agents expertly dispatched by the little girl.