A site designed for all of the wonderful people out there in the dark and dedicated to the unabashed passion for silents, early talkies, all stars and all films.
Cagney and the grapefruit make one last joint appearance
Season is an interesting word. It can mean to add flavor to something, or it can define a period of time. In the case of James Cagney, from day one he always seasoned the screen with some invigorating cinematic spice. He was also a performer who, in over 30 years, presented himself to the audience in various seasons of his acting life. From the summer of "The Public Enemy" to the winter of "Ragtime," Cagney not only physically matured, but also matured in the depth and humanity he brought to his roles. All before our eyes. While those two winter roles - the aforementioned "Ragtime" and the final performance in the television movie "Terrible Joe Moran," gave us a final glimpse of a cherished star, it is the late autumn performance in Billy Wilder's "One, Two, Three" (1961) that offers us the final major performance of a great star. At age 62 he was as dynamic as he was 30 years earlier.
Not as well known as many of Wilder's other great films, "One, Two, Three" is a sharp, sly and very funny look at the cold war and corporate moral flexibility (to put it kindly). A lot of the topical humor may be lost on those who didn't live through the cold war or are not familiar with it. Originally slated to be filmed in Berlin, the crew had to quickly relocate to Munich because those pesky Russians decided to build a wall. The dialogue is filled with topical references (do modern audiences know who Khrushchev was, or the significance of the shoe banging on the table?). Fortunately, I am old enough to remember (wow - that's the first time I ever had occasion to use that phrase!).
Proving the cold war could be fun
Thanks to Wilder's script (co-written with I.A.L. Diamond) and direction, this all results in fast and furious fun. The supporting cast of Horst Buchholz, Arlene Francis, Pamela Tiffin, Lilo Pulver, and especially Hanns Lothar as Schlemmer, is top-notch. Cagney proves to be a good sport, allowing several jokes at the expense of his long career - the grapefruit, the gangster quote from "Little Caesar" (even though that was uttered by Edward G. Robinson, it still harkened back to those good old gangster days), and a Cagney impression by Red Buttons. While those references made gentle fun of Cagney's decades-long public reputation, in true double-edged-sword Wilder fashion, it also seems an homage to many well-loved movie memories; an acknowledgement that we are in the presence of a living cinematic legend. I was getting those Norma Desmond/Gloria Swanson conflicted vibes here, though not in such a tragic framework.
An executive's work is never done
The film is very early 1960s, and I admit it's a bit arresting to see this particular star as a man of the modern world. For some reason he always seemed to be a man who lived in a past era. Even when his character was current in the 1930s and 40s, he seemed a man who lived by an earlier code. Cagney wears the 1960s suits and ties well and proves that he was a real actor playing something he never tried before - a slimy, married Coca-Cola executive, always conniving while canoodling with his mercenary secretary on the side. Still, he manages to retain that special sympathetic star shine something. That was his super power. Even when he was a gangster he was never slimy. Come on, weren't we all rooting for Rocky Sullivan?
Love and Capitalism wins the day
Cagney's personal struggles during filming are well known. While he could wear the clothes of the modern man, he was privately uncomfortable. Besides butting heads with Wilder, a very strong-willed director, he came to actively dislike co-star Horst Buchholz. In his autobiography, Cagney, who rarely had a harsh word for any co-workers, openly complained about the scene-stealing ways of the younger actor. Add to that those wildly changing times and Cagney decided he had had enough. At the end of filming, there seemed no place for him to go but to his beloved farm and let the world go by for a few decades.
Cheers to you!
For some reason this topical and breathless movie reminds me of a line in Checkhov's "Uncle Vanya" about "autumn roses, beautiful, sorrowful roses." I feel a twinge of sadness in between the laughter. There would be those two graceful appearances much later, but watching this now, knowing this would be the last time we would see him in full power, is truly like looking at the twilight of the gods.
This is my contribution to the CMBA Fabulous 50s blogathon and also serves as an entry into my 2014 series, Hooray for Hollywood.
Joe Gillis makes a fateful turn
Billy Wilder, that old softy, he's like a cynical hard-as- nails brass ring on the outside and all sentimental and gooey on the inside. Sunset Boulevard: hard, unforgiving, ghoulish black comedy, right? I used to think so, but now I see it differently. I used to see Norma Desmond as a grotesque old relic who lost touch with reality. Now, older than Norma was at the time of the story (50), she seems perfectly normal (well, except for that monkey....).
Norma invested wisely in oil, real estate, jewels and cigarette holders. If she really was nuts, she would have been broke.
Norma normal? Let's examine the facts:
1. Norma is 50 years old. Dead to Hollywood, but hardly finished. She still has passion and when hunky Joe Gillis happens by, well, can you blame the girl? Cougar spotted on Sunset Boulevard!
So, in the 1950s this was considered grotesque......
but THIS was okay? All I can say is - Norma - you go, girl!
2. Norma says:
"we didn't need dialogue. We had faces."
You bet they did, Norma. They had Garbo, Fairbanks, Valentino, Pickford, Pola Negri, Norma Talmadge and Gloria Swanson.
the great face of La Swanson
"I am big. It's the pictures that got small."
And so they did. The gritty films of the depression married with sound and the true magic of film was lost.
"They took the idols of the world and smashed them, the Fairbankses, the Gilberts, the Valentinos! And who've we got now? Some nobodies!" Yes, once they opened their mouth, out came words, words - and suddenly, stars were just like real folks.
The woman was a prophet! But like so many prophets, she is deemed to be a nut case.
Wilder's affection and sadness over the passing of an era is evident (Kevin Browlow's great book about the silent era, "The Parade's Gone By," drew it's title from Joe's observation that Norma was "still waving proudly at a parade that had long since passed her by"). The beauty of Swanson in a clip from Queen Kelly stops the heart. Seeing the face of Buster Keaton melts the heart. They are both beautiful and they evoke not ridicule from the viewer, but awakening of a forgotten longing.
By 1950, the silent screen seemed as old as the Rosetta Stone. The silent stars were ancient relics, either dead, playing small parts or living in obscurity - or even worse, appearing on television. The glamour, the mystery, the size of Hollywood stardom had all shrunk to merely lifesize. Wilder, who grew up on the Hollywood glamour of the silent films, never forgot the sheer magical fantasy of the era, even though film had moved so far from it by 1950. We never forget that which first enchants us, do we?
And so, what once seemed to me to be a story about a crazy old bat living in a crumbling mansion is now anything but that. The greatness of this film lies in the push of the realism and the pull of the past. The casting of Swanson, Erich Von Stroheim and those Waxworks (Keaton, Anna Q. Nilsson, and H.B. Warner) was true inspiration and a bouquet of roses to the past just to show the audience what they might not realize they still missed. All right, maybe Norma was nutty, but there is real cause for her pain. She lived the dream, but it was only a dream (and a big nightmare for poor Joe Gillis).And as one of the wonderful people in the dark, I appreciate the effort, Madam and Max.
In 1950, Valentino would have been 55, Clara Bow was 45 , Mary Pickford was 58 and Greta Garbo was 45. Too old to be seen. Too old be idolized, thus, too old to be useful. Hollywood is a cruel town.Wilder makes that clear in this greatest of films. And if you think its funny, you're not yet 50.
Some stories are so perfectly symmetrical you just have to sit back in amazement and feel that the universe is truly some magical Rubiks Cube.
I am blessed to live in a location that affords me the opportunity to see silent films on the big screen with live accompaniment (usually by the there-are-no-words-to-describe-his-majesty Ben Model). This month’s offering: the fabled "Queen Kelly" starring Gloria Swanson and directed by Erich Von Stroheim.
Von Stroheim: Irving Thalberg accused him of having a footage fetish
Here’s the story:
By 1928, director Erich Von Stroheim had worn out his welcome at MGM and was looking for work. Gloria Swanson had left Paramount and was producing her own films. She had one success with “Sadie Thomson,” and a miss with “The Loves of Sunya.” When Von Stroheim proposed a story of middle European royalty and romance, Swanson and her financial backer (and paramour) Joseph Kennedy, said “yes.” She knew the risks with the excessive Von Stroheim, but she also knew the rewards. Films like “The Merry Widow” and “Foolish Wives,” both big Von Stroheim hits, were similar to her story, known as "Queen Kelly." Swanson and Kennedy were confident they could control the director. Ah, hubris.
Swanson and Kennedy were no match for the excesses of Von Stroheim
The Swanson/Von Stroheim collaboration resulted in an aborted and fascinating film. Welcome to Kronberg, a mythical middle European country ruled by the mad, sex-crazed booze and drug loving Queen Regina V. She is betrothed to playboy Prince Wolfram (conjuring any images with that name?). He has no interest in the nutty Queen, but she is just mad about the boy. As a punishment for his roving eye, she sends her man out on maneuvers. But Wolfram makes lemonade out of lemons and spots a lovely convent school girl out for a stroll with the rest of her class. Their eyes meet, her pants fall down and they fall in love. Wolfram goes to great lengths to extract little Kitty Kelly from the convent (almost burning it down), abducting her and ultimately spending the night with her in the Queen’s castle.
Queen Regina V: nude and nutty as a fruit cake
The innocent Kitty Kelly is seduced by the dashing Wolfram
Our nutty Queen does not like this and runs poor Kitty out of the castle, whipping her until she flees out into the streets. Wolfram is thrown into prison and Kitty, once back with the nuns, learns that her aunt in German East Africa has sent for her.
Poor Kitty Kelly: Imagine the wedding night jitters?
It turns out Auntie runs a whore house (one particularly tubercular prostitute is named Cough drops) and has promised her hand in marriage to the most disgusting old man you have ever seen. Kitty resists, but ultimately gives into the marriage and the union takes place over the Aunt's death bed. This is where the filming stopped. The story goes that Von Stroheim ordered Tully Marshall (the disgusting old man) to drool tobacco juice on Swanson's hand as he took it in matrimony. That was it for glorious Gloria and she had Kennedy can the director.
Queen Kelly: Queen of the Whore House
Swanson attempted to salvage the film, but the fates were not on her side. Not only did she have to contrive a suitable ending that would pass the censors, it was already 1929 and talking pictures had arrived. Eventually, Swanson was able to show a bastardized version of the film in Europe and South America (her ending had the virtuous Kitty ending it all rather than submit to a life of debauchery). It had a musical score and a song by Swanson was thrown in for good measure.
Salvaging the wreck: All talking, all singing, all sinning?
The film I saw was one that was restored by Kino International. Using stills and heavy text in-between to tell the story, it recreated Von Stroheim's original story: Kitty Kelly becomes a rich and powerful madam of her aunt's string of whore houses and she is known as Queen Kelly for her extravagant lifestyle. Wolfram does not marry the nutty queen, who dies, and eventually he brings his heart's desire, Queen Kelly, back to his kingdom.
Well, what can you say? Seena Owen, as the mad queen, is a knockout of rabid sex and screwball eyeballs. Walter Byron was a dashing prince and Tully Marshall as the disgusting groom is - well - disgusting. As for Swanson - oh what a delicious little minx she was! That nose! She is cute, funny, touching and sexy.
Enter Billy Wilder with his script for "Sunset Boulevard." It is hard to believe that he ever wanted to cast anyone other than Swanson (allegedly, Wilder approached Pola Negri, Mae West and Norma Shearer before Swanson. Co-writer Charles Brackett said Swanson was always the first choice). As Norma Desmond, Swanson is now the mad (silent screen) queen, chasing the chosen lady love of her obsession out of her "castle." She, too, is mad about the boy (she even gives Joe Gillis a gold cigarette case with that little engraved message). But, at last Gloria, Kitty Kelly and Norma get their revenge: Von Stroheim is now the butler (Max) and she actually gets to shoot the faithless lover.
Von Stroheim once again in the driver's seat
A real treat is this scene, which is actually a scene from "Queen Kelly," starring Gloria Swanson and directed by Erich Von Stroheim.
Oh, the delicious irony. "Queen Kelly" is a hoot - beautifully shot, kinky (the Queen's palace is filled to the brim with statues and paintings of nude women, Kitty give a statue of Jesus a longing look and all other sorts of Von Stroheim depravity takes place) and it leaves us longing for more. "Sunset Boulevard" gives us a complete story in which "Queen Kelly" is just one of many subtexts. This is why "Sunset Boulevard" is my favorite film: besides being brilliant on the surface, it is filled with layers and layers of film history and brings together 2 legends formerly at odds and now linked together forever at last in a masterpiece.
