How To Steal a Million: Wyler in Twilight

This is my contribution to the William Wyler Blogathon, hosted by The Movie Projector. Please click here to read the other wonderful posts covering Mr. Wyler's long and superb career.

A faded ruin seen in twilight can be a beautiful sight. Time, decay, and benign neglect don't usually show a monument to its best advantage, but if she is structurally sound and inherently lovely "age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety" (to quote Will S.). Filmed at a time when Hollywood as the natives knew her was thought to be on life support, William Wyler's "How To Steal a Million" was made while pieces of the great studio system fell around it like a burning building.

The art of the romantic caper in the hands of experts

The old gal hadn't quite stopped breathing in 1966. Studio-backed films such as "The Bible," The Sand Pebbles," and "Hawaii" still pulled in big bucks at the box office, but change was imminent. Cary Grant made his last movie, "Walk Don't Run," that year and hard on Hollywood's heels was a leaner, meaner, grittier international product that was all the buzz. "Alfie," "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?," "Georgy Girl" and "Blow Up"  were the anti-Hollywood "in" films to see. Blast-from-the-past directors like Alfred Hitchcock ("Torn Curtin") and Billy Wilder ("The Fortune Cookie") were still in the game, but films were shifting focus from the star to auteur-directors such as Mike Nichols, Michelangelo Antonioni, and Claude Lelouch. Hitchcock could easily move to center-stage when called upon, but this was not so easy for William Wyler.

The chemistry between the 2 stars is undeniable

Master director William Wyler was the antithesis of the director as star. His work, it seemed, revealed nothing of himself, his psyche, his obsessions, fetishes and passions. And so, in 1966, what was one to make of "How To Steal a Million," a charming and frothy and forgettable romance and crime caper? While hardly a ruin, it features Audrey Hepburn, at age 37, in her last "jeune fille" role. As yet another young lady with a "father dilemma" (Hugh Griffith as an incorrigible art forger), Audrey could never be less than enchanting. Together again after their historic collaboration years before in "Roman Holiday," Hepburn and Wyler have all the right moves. Besides working with a favored director, Audrey also has terrific chemistry with an equally ingratiating Peter O'Toole (proving he could have been just another handsome leading man if he hadn't decided to be a great actor). Together, they are smashing.

Hepburn & Givenchy: there can never be too much

Everything Audrey did and wore in this film
 was ultra glamorous and ultra chic

Dressed for a caper as only Audrey can

Looking very "swinging sixties"

Filmed in and around Paris, Wyler and company create a chic, madcap comedy of crime and love. And never discount the role of "the look" as a major character in any Audrey Hepburn film. Givenchy is ever-present in a series of gorgeous get-ups (except when Audrey has to don the duds of a scrub woman - with glittery eye shadow), sports cars abound and everyone looks just ooh-la-la. Charles Boyer is on hand for authentic Gallic charm, Hugh Griffith and Eli Wallach lend solid comic support and John William's score (scoring always being an asset in a Wyler film) adds to the general overall sense of romantic delight.

Not exactly "Roman Holiday," but their admiration and
respect for one another was obvious

Standing in the sidelines of all the cinematic grandeur and all of the folly that followed, "How To Steal a Million" still stands today as exactly what it was meant to be; a delightful, beautiful, glamorous escape. This was the product that professional Hollywood perfected and was perfectly served up by one of its master craftsmen. Wyler is in complete control of this sweet cinematic bon bon and, as with all sophisticated and slightly expensive sweets,  it is a pleasure for more than one of the senses. Whether they knew it or not, it was a fond farewell to Audrey's "girl" character and to the sumptuous productions that could only be made by a state of mind called Hollywood. But, as they say in the backstretch, breeding tells. Today, this film holds up just as well, if not better, than so many of the "hot" movies that were the critics' darlings that year. When you build with good material and your builder is a master like William Wyler, the ruin stands tall in the twilight while the upstarts crumble like dust at its feet.

Care to join me in a caper? Not quite a classic, but lots of fun!

Bitches and Blaggards: Gloria Grahame and Vincent Price

This is the sixth in the "Bitches and Blaggards" series; monthly posts devoted to my favorite movie bad girls and rogues.  A bitch is a selfish, malicious woman. A blaggard is a villain, a rogue and a black-hearted man. Both are bad, both are devastatingly alluring.

Gloria Grahame

Gloria Grahame was a gal who embraced her inner floozy. No blushing heroine, she; not even a nice girl forced into unfortunate circumstances. No, little Gloria, the "girl with the Novocaine lip," was a cinematic bad girl and trollop deluxe. Her motives are rarely pure, but somehow you find yourself rooting for this gal. You can gown her, fox-fur her and bejewel her and still she is NOT the girl you want to bring home to mother. Bless her crooked little heart. Two of Gloria's great bitch roles are "Sudden Fear" and "The Big Heat."

Sudden Fear

Gloria was a very bad girl here. Star Joan Crawford plays Myra Hudson (a relative of Blanche, perhaps?), who marries hunky Jack Palace. She marries for love and he marries for money. Once he learns that Myra plans to leave the bulk of her estate to charity, Jack and girlfriend Gloria plot to bump her off before the ink hits the paper. As usual, things go badly for Gloria and she winds up dead. She is flawless here, bad but just a victim of love and a louse.

The Big Heat

This is the one where Gloria's face gets scarred when old flame Lee Marvin throws hot coffee at her. Where was Kramer and Jackie Chiles when she needed them? Gloria is by far the best thing about this movie. While not exactly a bitch (she does have a good heart in the end), she has played so long with the rough boys that she is a pretty tough cookie herself. If you want to wear the mink, you gotta slink the slink.

Off-screen, Gloria was equally scandalous. Married to director Nicholas Ray, she began an affair with her 13-year old step-son, Tony Ray. She and daddy Nick subsequently divorced and after another husband thrown in for good measure, Gloria and Tony (who had 2 children together) finally tied the knot. Well, that didn't last either (surprised?).

And about that Novocaine lip: this was a case of plastic surgery gone bad. Apparently, she stuffed her upper lip with cotton rather than own up to the surgery.

Still, we love Gloria Grahame, the little trollop that could.

Vincent Price

Now, I just love Vincent Price. He was so much more than a blaggard, but he could be a mighty good (bad) one if asked. Before drifting into semi-humorous horror roles, he displayed a discomforting ability to torture the fairer sex. Two of Vincent's best appearances as a blaggard are in "Laura" and "Dragonwyck."

Laura

"Laura" is a special film because it features two blaggards and a bitch (Judith Anderson). Clifton Webb's Waldo Lydecker is the chief villain, but Vincent Price's Shelby Carpenter is no prize, either. He is charming, he is weak, and he is a cheat. As the film unfolds, it is not really clear why Shelby wants to marry Laura, since Ann seems to give him everything he needs and wants. Of course, Laura is beautiful, but the lure of Ann's easy money is too great. Plus Ann looks the other way when he cheats with Diane Redfern (the girl who is actually murdered). He lies to the police, he lies to Laura (though he does try to defend her when he suspects her of the murder) and he cheats like a devil. Laura eventually comes to her senses (with the help of hunky Dana Andrews), but Shelby was a charmer in his smarmy way.

Dragonwyck

In "Dragonwyck," Price again gets to torment beautiful Gene Tierney. As the master of the foreboding estate, Dragonwyck, Price's Nicholas presides over his kingdom like a Rochester wannabe. But, the story demands that lovey Gene find him irresistible. Soon we find out that, besides being a beast that crushes the little people beneath his boot, Nicholas has poisoned his first wife and plan's to do the same to current wife, Gene. Watch out for guys who tend to their oleander plants!

Price also menaced in some neat noirs, notable "The Bribe," before hitting the horror trail. In real life he was a bit of a Renaissance man in a world where such men are a rarity. Besides being an actor of great ability, we was a connoisseur and collector of fine art, a raconteur and a man of great humor. And, a damn good blaggard, I might add.


Coming Soon: The Bitch and Blaggard of July are Jack Palance and Lizbeth Scott

Silent Screen Body Language

Just as some languages are beautiful to the ear, the language of silent film is beautiful to the eye.

Silent film is especially known for the emotions transmitted via the eyes, but the rest of the body was an equally important communication instrument when unspoken cinema was the universal language. A gesture, a glance, a movement, the placement of a hand, all had to be understood by various cultures wherever there was a movie palace. People around the world knew love, hate, joy, passion and fear when they saw it - no Rosetta Stone required.

The Eyes

The eyes are the window to the soul, right? So, any silent film performer worth his or her salt had to have expressive eyes.

Theda Bara's black-smudged eyes were synonymous with smoldering passion.

Gloria Swanson's gaze was intense. Here icy blue eyes were her trademark.

Buster Keaton may have been known as "The Great Stone Face," 

but his eyes spoke volumes.

The Hands
The elegant and delicate placement of the hand was a trademark silent film must.

Mary Miles Minter knew just how to gesture with her digits.

Mary Pickford's hands were an encyclopedia of expressions.

Lillian Gish often let her hands do the talking.

Charlie Chaplin's leading lady, Edna Purviance, 

had extremely expressive hands.

The Body
Some actors and actresses moved with a signature grace and purpose that was closer to dance than acting.

Douglas Fairbanks moved with a grace and athleticism 

that will never be equaled.

Chaplin moved with such grace and precision that 

W.C. Fields called him a ballet dancer.

Valentino's movements projected danger, passion and allure.

Lovely Clara Bow was always in motion. Only sound could slow her down.

They Had Faces
A gallery of fabulous faces:

The one and only Garbo

The great Norma Talmadge

The face of John Gilbert

The timeless beauty of Louise Brooks

The haunting face of Maria Falconetti

In all its variations, the face of Lon Chaney is unforgettable.

Above all, the silent cinema is a celebration of the human face and form. Its language speaks not only to the eyes, but also to the universal heart of mankind.

Mary Pickford and "The New York Hat" (1912)

This is my contribution to the Mary Pickford Blogathon, honoring one of the world’s greatest movie stars and hosted by KC at Classic Movies. Click here for all of the entries about America’s Sweetheart.

Before Mary Pickford took the leap to feature films and pursued her stardom in earnest, she made one last film for D.w. Griffith at American Biograph called "The New York Hat," and it was one of her very best. Mary and Griffith had a productive, but contentious, relationship. From the very beginning in 1909, it was clear that Mary, in those early days of anonymous motion picture performers, had star quality. Alternately referred to as "The Girl With The Curls" and "The Biograph Girl" (after the first Biograph Girl, Florence Lawrence, had left Griffith for her own stardom), the public demanded to know her true identity. This did not sit well with Griffith, who liked to keep his actors working anonymously as an ensemble with the director as star. Nevertheless, they made 98 films in their on-again-off-again relationship of four years. After her final departure, it was said that Griffith needed two Gishes (Lillian and Dorothy) to take the place of one Pickford.

However he may have felt about her departure from the Biograph troupe, Griffith gave her a mighty send-off. Written by the budding giant, Anita Loos, “The New York Hat,” in just 16 minutes or so, manages to perfectly showcase the talent and appeal of Mary Pickford and to cover topics close to Griffith’s heart.

The story starts as Mary's mother lies dying. At her side are her husband, Mary and the minister (played by an incredibly young looking 34 year old Lionel Barrymore). While many of the players act in the grand manner of the earliest films (which feature the large gestures and facial expressions of the stage), Mary is always understated and natural. Her sobbing at her mother’s deathbed could have been filmed yesterday, it is that realistic. Unbeknownst to Mary’s father, the dying mother has left some money for her daughter and has entrusted it to the minister to buy for her the occasional frivolity that she knows the stern father will deny her.

Poor little Mary dreams of fancy finery, but is the poorest dressed girl in town. Griffith detested small-town and small-minded gossips and here he has a field day with the ladies of the town who eye her up and down and make fun of her shabby clothes. When a wildly expensive ($10) and fashionably flamboyant New York hat goes on display at the local millinery shop, it is coveted by all of the ladies, Mary included. The minister, who spies Mary's hungry glances at the hat, remembers her mother's dying wish. He decides to buy Mary the hat and make her dreams come true.

After staring longingly at the hat in the shop window, Mary goes home and dreams of the beautiful “village sensation.” Griffith knew her strengths and wisely shot her in medium frame. She uses her hair, her face, her hands and her body to tell the story, but it is with a casual charm rather than a ferocious intensity that would better be served by a close-up. When she wakes up, she is disappointed that it was only a dream, but her disappointment soon turns to excitement when, joy of joys, the hat is delivered to her home, courtesy of the minister.

Mary is such an artist that you can’t wait for her to wear her beautiful hat and show it off to the village peahens. Triumphantly, she wears it to church, but is met with jealousy and gossip. They had all seen the minister buy the hat. The fact that Mary is wearing it must mean that they are having an affair. Scandal ensues!!!!

As the gossip spreads faster than a rabbit on methamphetamine, Mary’s father gets wind of this and not only berates his daughter, but tears up her hat. Mary cries, not just for her reputation, but for the destruction of her beautiful bonnet. Such a girl! Mary skillfully plays this scene, breaking our hearts at her father's unjust accusation and making us smile,too, at her despair over his destruction of her beautiful hat.

While the self-righteous gossip brigade and Mary’s father descend upon the minister to condemn him, he whips out the dying trust of Mary’s mother:

My Beloved Pastor: My husband worked me to death, but I have managed to save a little sum. Take it, and from time to time buy my daughter the bits of finery she has always been denied. But tell no one.

Mollified, but unreformed, the gossips quickly disperse and Mary is left with the minister and her father. Apparently, the man of the cloth has been keeping more than a brotherly eye on the girl and whispers a proposal of marriage. If anyone thinks that Mary Pickford is an antique who just played little girls, this scene should dispel such notions.  At 20 years old, she artfully creates a girl who is becoming a woman with womanly charms. Filmed 100 years ago, Mary Pickford's performance is modern, immediate, fresh and natural.

As an aside, I was privileged to see Mary Pickford in "A Little Princess" on the big screen recently. By then, her persona of the little girl had been firmly fixed. Of course, she was magical, but it made me wonder what path her career would have taken if that little girl was allowed to blossom into a woman.


Mary Pickford's fame is legendary and lasting, but she is much more than a powerful businesswoman and a groundbreaking star. America's Sweetheart is a perfect artist in perfect command of her art.

"The New York Hat" is one of Mary Pickford's and D.W. Griffith's finest short films. Besides seeing these two fine artists do what they do best, enjoy an equally charming Lionel Barrymore (really, is this Mr. Potter?), and see if you can spot Lillian and Dorothy Gish, Jack Pickford, Mae Marsh, Robert Harron and Mack Sennet (all part of Griffith's stock company) in the background.

The Tattooed Police Horse: It's All About the Hair!

This is my contribution to the Hoseathon hosted by "My Love of Old Hollywood." Giddyup over here and check out the rest of the line up.

Background

Horses, horses, horses. While my first human loves included Napoleon Solo and John Lennon, my first real loves were Man O'War, The Black Stallion and Flame, and Mr. Ed. Yes, I was one of those adolescent girls  who went ga ga over equine splendor. Eventually it dawned on me that Mr. Ed was never going to take me to the prom, so I switched species (a little reluctantly, I might add).

Hoping he'd call to ask me to the prom, but the call never came. :(

Now there are a ton of movies about horses that I love - "Misty," "The Miracle of the White Stallions," and "The Black Stallion," just to name a few, but there was one I saw a a kid that I never forgot called "The Tattooed Police Horse." When I saw that Page was hosting this event, I immediately thought this would be a great way to revisit something I adored as a kid, haven't seen in over 40 years, and see if it still had the same impact on me. However, before I signed up for this, I should have checked to see if it was available on DVD. To my dismay (panic) it wasn't, and since my other choices were already scooped up by other bloggers, I figured I'd write from memory. After all, the memory of my feelings about this film is what is so important to me. However, at the 11th hour, a crisis was averted since I was able to locate a copy of this film in a foreign country. Page - are you listening????? The things I do for you!

The Film

"The Tattooed Police Horse" (1964) was actually a Walt Disney "featurette" - a shorter film that played with the major release.  Based upon my movie going history that year, it probably was paired with "The Three Lives of Tomasina, "A Tiger Walks," or "Emil and the Detectives." I doubt it was shown with either "The Moonspinners" or "Mary Poppins." Wow - I was all over Uncle Walt that year! It eventually found its way to the TV show "Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color" in 1967.


Our film tells the story of Jolly Roger, a well-bred trotter who was a late bloomer. He and another horse, Tartan, are raised together. Tartan is a good pupil who schools well and runs to win. Roger is a bit nervous and has a nasty habit of breaking into a gallop when unnerved by noises, crowds, or any other distraction. This, of course, disqualifies him from winning any trotting race. He is championed by Pam Churchill, who owns and works him out, but after too many disqualifications, Roger is sold to his trainer. Things don't work out there, either, and Roger soon finds himself running at country fairs and eventually sold at auction with a bunch of mules. How the mighty have fallen!


A Boston police captain with a good eye for horses purchases Roger and eventually makes a man of his horse. All of the sounds of city rattle the skittish Roger, but under the steadying hand of the captain, Roger soon becomes a crack police horse. On duty at a special trotting race, Roger's blood is stirred by the sights and sounds of the track and when an accident occurs, he doesn't gallop, but trots to the rescue at full throttle with his surprised captain on his back. Roger is soon reunited with Pam Churchill, who identifies Roger as a racehorse by the tattoo inside his upper lip. She now knows Roger is matured and ready to race. In the showdown race with old rival Tartan, Roger surges in the stretch and bests Tartan at the wire. His old police buddies give him a heartfelt send-off and Roger is at last ready for the big time.


The film stars a great cast of unknowns - Sandy Sanders, Charles Seel, William Hilliard and Shirley Skiles. I have only heard of narrator Keith Andes, who always lets you know what Roger is feeling.

It Was Really All About the Hair

It was a grand story and, of course, everyone was rooting for Roger. Except me. You see, Tartan was this absolutely glamorous looking horse that I never forgot. For over 40 years I have held that horse in my imagination and have never seen one quite so beautiful. So, imagine the thrill when I got the DVD, popped it in and there he was! The gorgeous gray horse with the flowing white mane and tail! Since I can't find any photos from this movie on line, you'll have to use your imagination, but he looked something like these:

Because of that beautiful horse I have had a soft spot for that two-toned hair thing:

Am I the only one that thought she was glamorous?

I never wanted the puppies to die, but I did understand......

I LOVE your hair, kitty

See what I mean?

I am probably the only person that liked this look on Christina Aguilera.
All I could think of when I saw this "do" was the horse in the movie
(and I mean that in a good way).

And so, approximately 50 minutes in a movie theater over 40 years ago shaped my notion of what is beautiful and left me with a certain obsession. Living only in my memory (until now), I still felt the thrill of Roger winning that race, felt sad when he was sold with the mules, and stared in admiration at a beautiful horse. It was all as I remembered.

Bitches and Blaggards: Judith Anderson and Basil Rathbone

This is the fifth in the "Bitches and Blaggards" series; monthly posts devoted to my favorite movie bad girls and rogues. A bitch is a selfish, malicious woman. A blaggard is a villain, a rogue and a black-hearted man. Both are bad, both are devastatingly alluring.

Judith Anderson

Dame Judith Anderson was a world renowned stage actress whose film career stuck her in the corner pocket of playing nasty ladies. Being a superb actress, she played nasty like nobody's business.

Dame Judith (I wonder if anyone elver called her "Judy"? - I doubt it) was an unusual looking woman, not at all beautiful by Hollywood standards. Therefore, she must play ladies who have a black and bitter heart. Stands to reason, right? Trouble is, she is so damn good and so damn interesting that she makes her goody-goody co-stars almost invisible. As she says in "Laura,"  - "I am not a nice person." Thank goodness!


Two of my favorite Judith Anderson bitches are Ann Treadwell in "Laura," and Mrs. Danvers in "Rebecca."

Laura

Hunky detective Mark McPherson summed it up best when he told Laura Hunt "I must say, for a charming, intelligent girl, you certainly surrounded yourself with a remarkable collection of dopes." He might have added snakes and dirty double-crossers, too. As Laura's aunt Ann Treadwell, Anderson is an older, less beautiful woman than Laura, but she appears to have deeper pockets and greater needs. She is chic and sophisticated and she knows she is better for sleazy Vincent Price than Laura, but what chance does she have against a beauty like her niece? She doesn't think twice to cheat with him behind Laura's back and, when Laura reappears, she is not quite as overjoyed as she should be. In fact, when she tells Laura that the thought of murdering her crossed her mind, Auntie Ann is downright bitchy.

Rebecca

This is Judith Anderson's finest bitching hour on film. As the nutty, obsessed, gender-confused Mrs. Danvers, she is a wonder. Do you really think there was a Mr. Danvers? And why did Maxim keep her around? He was rich and powerful - couldn't he have just exiled her to some other remote corner of Cornwall? But, I digress. From the minute poor little Joan Fontaine locks horns with the loony housekeeper, we know she is out of her league. In her widow's weeds, still mourning the loss of the beautiful (and evil) Rebecca, Mrs. D is rightfully annoyed with this little mouse. While either encouraging Joan to take a swan dive out the window or tricking her into wearing an offensive costume, Anderson is a trip. One of my favorite references to her role in this film is in an Abbott and Costello movie called "The Time of Their Lives." There, Gale Sondergaard does the mysterious and dour housekeeper in black routine, to whom one character asks, "Haven't I seen you in Rebecca?"


Apparently, Judith Anderson loved Santa Barbara, California, which is why such an accomplished and truly great stage actress succumbed to the film industry, which only saw her as a menace. Being a great actress, she turned the menace on her head and made her the star attraction.

Basil Rathbone

In the world of movie blaggards, Basil Rathbone is the creme de la creme. Could Basil Rathbone ever be anything other than black hearted? Even when he was nice - or at least honest - you knew the devil on one shoulder was so much more powerful than the angel on the other. He was debonair, handsome, and, like the rapier he so often bandied about, deadly. His real, full name was Phillip St. John Basil Rathbone. So fitting, don't you think?

Robin Hood

You can just hear poor Sir Guy of Gisbourne thinking: "Oh why oh why did Robin Hood (Errol Flynn) have to be so much better at everything? If it wasn't for that pesky fellow in green, I'd have it all!" He's handsome, but not as handsome as Errol's Robin. He can fence, but not as great as Robin, and he might have a better chance with the ladies if only that Robin wasn't around! He's fun and we hate him.

David Copperfield

Rathbone's loathsome Mr. Murdstone still gives me the chills. Cruel and abusive, he is the stepfather from hell. Rathbone does not make one misstep as he beats, berates and finally banishes young David from his once happy home. A great, totally hiss-worthy performance.

The Court Jester

As the conniving Lord Ravenhurst, Rathbone does a hilarious spoof of his swashbuckling villains. A supercilious smarty pants who is taken in by jester Danny Kaye, he is a brilliant cog in this brilliant film. His ability to play comedy with a sneer is equal to his ability to play evil with deadly seriousness. After much maneuvering with poisons ("the pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true!") and knighthoods, his Lord Ravenhurst is literally expelled from the castle by a catapult. He was nasty, but he was so much fun!


Of course, Basil Rathbone is first and foremost famous for being Sherlock Holmes, and there he was never a blaggard. But he was a supercilious smarty pants and with just a little encouragement, you know he could flip.


In real life, Basil Rathbone was apparently a grand party-thrower, whose soirees were legendary in Hollywood. I'm glad to see he liked to have and give a good time, but I think if I were lucky enough to be invited, I'd keep my eye on an exit at all times! 


The Bitch and Blaggard of June will be Vincent Price and Gloria Grahame.