THEY LIVE BY NIGHT - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Ray Debut Gets Criterion Deluxe Treatment

Depression-era novel yields perfect post-war Film Noir.

They Live By Night (1948)
Dir. Nicholas Ray
Scr. Charles Schnee, Nicholas Ray
Nvl. Edward Anderson
Starring: Cathy O'Donnell, Farley Granger, Howard Da Silva,
Jay C. Flippen, Helen Craig, Will Wright, Marie Bryant

Review By Greg Klymkiw

You know the kid is doomed. That's usually the way it is in the grand tradition of film noir crime pictures, but there's a lot more to it than mere genre expectation. Nicholas Ray's debut feature film They Live By Night is so immersed in despair that the pain experienced by the viewer is matched only by our hope against hope that the sweet, young escaped convict Bowie (Farley Granger) is somehow, someway going to find a way out of the hole that both he and circumstance are digging - deeper and deeper and ever-deeper, right from the opening frames.

But we know, we just know, it ain't gonna be so. In this world, hope is a stacked deck and the dealer holds all the good cards. The wide-eyed look of both fear and expectation in Bowie's eyes as he waits in the darkness of night with a sweet, stray dog is enough to tell us that no matter what brief glimmers of hope get tossed his way, he's going to be swallowed whole by a hard, cruel world that has it in for the disenfranchized in the post-war ennui that pervades the world of the film (but in its universal prescience, stands in so sadly for a world that continues to assault those who are the most vulnerable).

And so it is, like Edward Anderson's depression-era novel (and Robert Altman's great 1974 film version Thieves Like Us), that Bowie breaks out of a life-sentence in stir with the older, though hardly wiser thugs, the one-eyed Chicamaw (Howard DaSilva) and the grizzled T-Dub (Flippen). The three convicts hide out in the ramshackle rural home of old drunkard Mobely (Will Wright) and his daughter Keechie (Cathy O'Donnell). With the financial and moral support of T-Dub's sister-in-law Mattie (Helen Craig), the trio plan a major bank robbery.

The core of the story is where director Ray excels. (Ray's entire career seems devoted from this film onwards to movies focusing upon disenfranchised outsiders - Rebel Without a Cause, anyone?) Thanks to producer John Houseman and RKO studio chief Dore Schary, this might be the only film that Ray had unfettered freedom. The movie charges with passion and energy, unlike Altman's equally brilliant take which focused upon the sheer monotony of life-on-the-lam.

Ill-fated lovers on the lam: Claustrophobia to Flight.

Nicholas Ray brilliantly tosses in every cinematic tool at his disposal to keep us enthralled. The helicopter "God" shots are especially dazzling and his groundbreaking use of sound places us firmly in a world that pulsates with a terrible beauty - at once real and alternately, hyper-real, borderline expressionism (especially in his use of Christmas Carols during the most heartrending perversion of domestic bliss and a knockout nightclub sequence with Marie Bryant performing "Your Red Wagon").

Of course, the film's narrative nucleus is the doomed love story between Bowie and Keechie and, oh, it's a heartbreaker. Not only is Bowie doomed from the first glimpse of him, so too is the love twixt this sad, broken couple. When we first meet them as a pair, the sparks are clear, but so's their downfall. Whatever shards of joy they're going to share, they're ultimately bound to wind up on a clear path to sheer and utter despair.

In many ways, both characters have been prisoners. Bowie was incarcerated as a teenager, railroaded by a system that had no time to mete genuine justice upon a poor abused kid. Keechie has lived her entire life helping her alcoholic Dad in the middle of nowhere. Neither of these people have done anything resembling "living" and what life they're going to experience together is most definitely not bound for glory.

So much of the movie is "on the road" - getaway cars and buses. Flight certainly offers an alternative to the claustrophobia that infused the lives of the film's young lovers, but one of the most astonishing set pieces offers a strangely moving repast for Bowie and Keechie when the couple takes one day - ONE DAY - to live out their lives as a "normal" couple.

When the heist occurs early on, it yields a whack of dough, but the troubles start there. Every step of the way, from this point forward, is a misstep and the movie can do little more than toss a crumb or two of happiness in our protagonists' way, and then, bury it with shovelfuls of cold, grimy dirt.

They Live By Night is a movie that seems to be digging a grave and maybe, just maybe, the best we can do as observers is experience its sad inevitabilities so that we never close our eyes to the plight of those who need more than mere sympathy, but action, so that we can all live in a world that extends something resembling compassion.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***** 5-Stars

They Live By Night is available on the Criterion Collection and comes replete with a new 2K digital restoration, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray, an audio commentary featuring film historian Eddie Muller and actor Farley Granger, a great video interview with film critic Imogen Sara Smith, a short piece from 2007 with film critic Molly Haskell, filmmakers Christopher Coppola and Oliver Stone, and film noir specialists Alain Silver and James Ursini, plus a dazzlingly eye-opening (and nicely illustrated) audio interview from 1956 with producer John Houseman in conversation with Gideon Bachmann.

BICYCLE THIEVES - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Quintessential Neo-Realism on Criterion

Bicycle Thieves (1948)
Dir. Vittorio De Sica
Scr. De Sica, Suso Cecchi D’Amico, Gerardo Guerrieri, Cesare Zavattini
Starring: Lamberto Maggiorani, Enzo Staiola, Lianella Carell,
Gino Saltamerenda, Vittorio Antonucci, Giulio Chiari

Review By Greg Klymkiw

The sheer weight of a great film's importance can often be incalculable and this is certainly the case with Vittorio De Sica's Bicycle Thieves, a movie that never ceases to render its emotional wallops with the force of a battering ram no matter how many times one sees the picture. It is the quintessential drama about poverty and easily the preeminent work of neorealism from post-war Italian Cinema.

The picture is untouchable.

Like the best neorealism, De Sica uses a cast of real people instead of professional actors (not a single person in the film seems out of place, delivering performances that are nothing less than pitch-perfect) and he shoots the film in locations where the story is actually set; so real and immediate to the period that we can still see the rubble of bombed-out buildings from WWII. There are moments when (and again, no matter how many times one sees it), that it's impossible to feel like you're watching anything other than the real thing, a story with the force of a cinéma vérité documentary; its drama so cleverly, brilliantly constructed that one does not see a single seam, not even a stitch.

First and foremost, De Sica and his clutch of writers trust in the simplicity of great stories. Bicycle Thieves, on its surface can't be more simple.

Antonio (Lamberto Maggiorani), his family living in the dank, paint-peeling impoverishment of a slum walk-up, finally gets a job in the utter destitution plaguing post-war Italy. The job requires him to have a bicycle. His loving wife Maria (Lianella Carell) sells all the sheets from their beds to pay for a pawn ticket to get hubby's bike out of hock. On his first day of work, Antonio's bicycle is stolen.

No bike. No job.

He has a day and a half to find his stolen bike before his next shift. With the help of son Bruno (Enzo Staiola) and best friend Baiocco (Gino Saltamerenda) a long, desperate and frustrating search leads to bupkis. Not even finding the thief (Vittorio Antonucci) yields fruit. Fraught with anguish, Antonio appears to have only one choice, a choice that will lead to salvation or (especially given the relatively recent and proper translation of the film's title from "The" Bicycle Thief to Bicycle "Thieves") even more pain and humiliation.

That's it.

Of course, there's so much more. Great storytellers realize that a clear, simple narrative is what's required to render a film that yields complexities extending well beyond the simplicity of the story itself. It's the springboard by which the film keeps us glued to the screen and then keeps us thinking about what we've seen (and often weeping) long after the word "FIN" hits the final title card.

From the beginning to the devastating end, De Sica places us deep in the heart of a world where the divides between rich and poor are so glaring, one feels just how prescient the film is (in spite of being set in Italy over 50 years ago). The divides we witness are not unlike those facing the world even now.

The film is populated with a multitude of the poor, yet there is one shot after another wherein someone of considerable privilege enters the frame, strutting through without a care in the world; a primly-dressed young fop blowing bubbles in the blazing sun, a vile upper-crust pedophile attempting to lure Bruno with the promise of a bicycle bell, a wealthy family dining in a restaurant with such manners and delicacy that Bruno is almost ashamed to eat his fried mozzarella sandwich with his hands, and most notable are the bureaucratic clerks behind windows to disdainfully serve the great unwashed.

There's even a strange sense that anyone with a job is endowed with a certain degree of entitlement, though wisely, the picture also includes those workers who display a near-resigned (though genuine) commitment to helping those in need. When Maria attempts to hock the family sheets, the pawn clerk argues that her sheets are used, but the look of desperation in Maria's face when she explains that three of the sheets are brand new and Antonio's noble discomfort when he asks for a bit more money are enough to change the clerk's mind and he generously offers extra cash he really shouldn't.

A glimpse into the hock shop's storage room is another exceptional example of De Sica's use of real locations. From Antonio's POV we see a huge wall piled high with bedsheets and, one of the many times during the picture in which we're reduced to tears, is when we (and Antonio) realize that the sheets indeed garnered a fair price as a worker climbs a heaven-touching ladder to deposit them near the top with all the other sheets of "lesser" value.

Another phenomenal use of locations is when Antonio visits a tiny vaudeville-styled theatre in which his friend Baiocco is directing an "unsophisticated" musical number and we're greeted with a faded backdrop on the stage, a handful of gaudily-attired performers, a few rows of decidedly uncomfortable seats and a group of poverty/labour activists (seemingly the real thing) demanding access to the theatre for their meeting. And, of course, the next day, we witness the kindness of Baiocco and his fellow water-truck labourers as they stop work on their paid jobs to help Antonio find the bicycle.

De Sica's overall direction is masterful. There are moments of dread and suspense which are so harrowing that I continue to be on the edge of my seat, each and every time I see the picture. After Antonio gets his bike back, there are a series of shots showing that Antonio's bicycle appears unattended as his attention is drawn to a few other matters. The first time I saw the film, these shots had me squirming. Given that I knew the title of the film and the manner in which the shots are framed, I still remember the dread I felt that the bicycle might be stolen here (it isn't, not yet).

Even more astounding is how I continued to feel queasy upon seeing the film just recently (and in spite of the fact that I've watched the movie once or twice a year over the course of forty years). One scene after another displays moments of situations similar to the aforementioned and my initial feelings from my very first viewing never dissipate. I think I get sick to my stomach even more. It's not unlike seeing superbly constructed set-pieces in a Hitchcock picture. I find myself thinking, "Oh God, no! Please, not that!"

And, you might ask, why is a bicycle so important to Antonio's new job? First and foremost, the job itself offers generous monthly wages (relatively), a monthly family bonus and other assorted benefits. This is because Antonio is working for a film exchange specializing in the shipping and distribution of Hollywood movies and P.R. materials. Antonio is armed with a clutch of posters, a brush, a bucket of glue and a ladder to tool all over a wide city route on his bicycle in order to put the glossy adverts up. It's not just a job, it's a great job.

And I reiterate: No bike. No job.

Though I don't think De Sica is overtly heavy-handed in doing so, it's clear that we're meant to think about the kinds of films being publicized; films representing the American dream factory, far removed from the kind of film De Sica himself has made and most of all, representing the kind of hopes and dreams the post-war poor can't even begin to imagine for themselves. Antonio is putting up a poster featuring the dazzling Rita Hayworth when his bicycle is stolen. Sadly, it's not gorgeous Rita who is literally distracting him, but his job. (Curiously, David O. Selznick even considered an American remake of Bicycle Thieves starring Gary Cooper which, thankfully, never saw the light of day. I'm sure it would have been a great Hollywood picture, but I can't imagine it would have represented the honest emotion De Sica is clearly going for.)

There are two sequences in two different public marketplaces that Antonio and Bruno find themselves in, desperately looking for the stolen bicycle. In the first, Antonio thinks he's found the frame of his bike at one of the stands and demands to see the serial number. The proprietors claim they run an honest business and insist they do not deal in stolen merchandise. We don't believe them for a second, but even though they do deal in stolen goods, De Sica shoots the entire series of shots comprising this that we understand why they would.

The second sequence involves Antonio and Bruno desperately searching the other market as rain pounds down torrentially. If it wasn't for the rain, we might even see tears and in one shot, Bruno's eyes appear moist beyond the mere rain pelting upon them with a gale force.

Herein and throughout, De Sica has us swimming in the turbulent sea of humanity.

And the humanity: Oh! The humanity, Oh! The humanity.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***** 5-Stars

The new Criterion Collection release of Bicycle Thieves comes replete with a new digital restoration (4K on the Blu-ray), with uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray; Working with De Sica, a collection of interviews with screenwriter Suso Cecchi d’Amico, actor Enzo Staiola, and film scholar Callisto Cosulich; Life as It Is, a program on the history of Italian neorealism, featuring scholar Mark Shiel; a 2003 documentary from 2003 on screenwriter and longtime Vittorio De Sica collaborator Cesare Zavattini, directed by Carlo Lizzani; an optional English-dubbed soundtrack; and a booklet featuring an essay by critic Godfrey Cheshire and reminiscences by De Sica and his collaborators.

Kino Classics: British Noir, 5 DVD Set - Reviews By Greg Klymkiw of THEY MET IN THE DARK, THE OCTOBER MAN, SNOWBOUND, GOLDEN SALAMANDER, THE ASSASSIN (aka THE VENETIAN BIRD)

One of the best Home Viewing releases of 2015 is this Kino Classics 5 movie set of British Film Noir from the 40s and 50s. There are no frilly extras, but the films, representing the darkness of Dear Old Blighty are more than enough for any fan of war-time and post-war crime cinema.

They Met in the Dark (1943)
Dir. Carl Lamac
Scr. Anatole de Grunwald, Miles Malleson,
Basil Bartlett, Victor MacClure, James Seymour
Nvl. "The Vanished Corpse" by Anthony Gilbert
Starring: James Mason, Joyce Howard, Tom Walls, Phyllis Stanley, Edward Rigby

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Debonair Mason and babe Howard
seek, romance, redemption and
some good old-fashioned Nazi-busting.

A terrific cast, ace Czech expat Otto Heller's (Peeping Tom, The Ladykillers, Richard III) moody cinematography and the sprightly editing of Terence Fisher (the eventual director of such legendary Hammer films as The Curse of Frankenstein, Horror of Dracula, Brides of Dracula), all contribute to making this otherwise routine wartime spy thriller, well worth seeing. Even in 1943, They Met in the Dark would have fallen into the been-there-done-that chasm of propaganda-rooted noir pictures, but it's a well produced effort that still manages to yield considerable entertainment value.

A youthful (and bearded) James Mason as a dashing and sexy naval commander, imbued with the tortured Mason-ian ennui (as per usual), is duped by a babe (secretly working for the Krauts) into delivering erroneous information which jeopardizes the lives of Brit sailors and their ship. He receives a court martial which forces him into deeper depression, but also provides the resolve he needs to tomcat his way into the heart of a plucky Canadian babe (Joyce Howard). With the Canuck lassie'e assistance, he seeks to clear his name and bring down the Nazi spies.

Thankfully, he also turfs the facial hair for the final two-thirds of the picture.

Plenty of intrigue abounds, including a nice set piece within a dark old house which yields a surprise corpse that spirals into even more seemingly insurmountable odds for our hero. The romantic chemistry twixt the debonair Mason and the luscious Howard crackles with major sex appeal and the main villain of the film is a deliciously dastardly, though (on the surface) antithetically refined Tom Walls as the show business agent Christopher Child, a Nazi pig in Savile Row finery.

The screenplay, cobbled together by no less than five credited writers, not including an unofficial sixth, the author of the original novel upon which the film is based, yields (not surprisingly) a somewhat generic work. Though the writing is strictly minor key, it's not without proficiency. Finally though, it is the fine cast and production value which render a calorically rich, though nutritionally empty appetizer to the other titles in this Box Set of Brit Noir delights.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***½ 3-and-a-half Stars

There's nothing more entertaining than
an amnesiac considering suicide, especially
when played by the magnificent John Mills.

The October Man (1947)
Dir. Roy Ward Baker
Scr. Eric Ambler
Starring: John Mills, Joan Greenwood, Edward Chapman,
Kay Walsh, Jack Melford, Frederick Piper, Joyce Carey

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Take a solid screenplay by Eric Ambler, the directorial debut of Roy Ward Baker (A Night To Remember and several great Hammer Horror classics), an atmosphere of amnesiac ennui resembling that of Mervyn LeRoy's Random Harvest and an astounding performance by John Mills (replete with joy, suffering, kindness, bravery and romantic yearning) and you get The October Man, a terrific British post-war offering that's ripe for re-discovery.

Mills is Jim, a chemist with a big industrial corporation who suffers a horrible head injury in a bus accident - one in which he's been entrusted with the care of a friend's child (played by Mills' real life daughter Juliet) and who dies horribly (through no fault of his own) in the crash. Jim spends a year in an asylum, wracked with amnesia, save for the recurring memories of the child's death.

Though released into the world, all is not right with our hero. His firm arranges a job for him at one of their plants in London and puts him up in a strange old rooming house. Here he tries to build his life back to what it once was, but it's not easy, especially being surrounded by a wide variety of provincially-minded fellow boarders including the horrible, old gossip Mrs. Vinton (Joyce Carey) and an extremely risible snoop and travelling salesman Peachey (Edward Chapman).

Jim eventually meets Jenny (Joan Greenwood), a sweet young woman who takes a shine to his gentle demeanour. The two begin dating and quickly fall in love. Alas, life keeps throwing curve balls at our sad-eyed hero. He befriends the doomed Molly (Kay Walsh), a fellow border who aspires to be an actress, practises lay-astrology and is the kept woman of a married rich businessman. Though she's obviously attracted to the kindness of Jim, she also sees a mark that she might be able to play for a sucker.

One night, Molly is brutally murdered and the prejudicial views against mental illness rear their ugly heads and Jim becomes the prime suspect. Jenny sticks by his side, but the odds of him being railroaded for Molly's murder increase exponentially, as do his deep suicidal tendencies.

The real killer must be found, but is Jim up to the task? The late Molly would have thought so. She dubbed him an October Man due to his astrological sign, but will the inherent qualities she saw in him be enough to avenge her death and save Jim?

I highly suggest you watch this wonderful melodramatic post-war bit of Blighty darkness to find out.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: **** 4-Stars

One can never go wrong with Herbert Lom
as a greedy, villanous NAZI!

Snowbound (1948)
Dir. David MacDonald
Starring: Dennis Price, Robert Newton,
Stanley Holloway, Herbert Lom, Mila Parély, Marcel Dalio

Review By Greg Klymkiw

A motley crew of disparate personalities converges upon an isolated ski resort in the Italian Alps wherein, it is said, the Nazis hid a fortune in stolen valuables. A screenwriter (Dennis Price), a director (Robert Newton) a cameraman (Stanley Holloway), a courtesan (Mila Parély) and a Nazi (Herbert Lom) are amongst those who are all there to find the buried treasure. Much intrigue and double crosses ensue in this snowbound locale, building to a thrilling climax in which true colours are revealed and death, for some, will be imminent.

The performances, especially Herbert Lom as the villainous Hun hellbent on financing a Fourth Reich, are all delightful and the intrigue clips along at a supremely entertaining pace. There are elements of post-war darkness to be sure, but for the most part, the picture doesn't take itself too seriously and offers up plenty of fun.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *** 3-Stars

Wilfred Hyde-White as Hoagy Carmichael.

Golden Salamander (1950)
Dir. Ronald Neame
Nvl. Victor Canning
Scr. Lesley Storm, Canning, Neame
Starring: Trevor Howard, Wildred Hyde-White, Herbert Lom, Anouk Aimee

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Doing the math on this one, we come up with more than a few tasty post-war morsels tucked into a tale of greed and shady shenanigans. Based upon a Victor Canning novel, we're introduced to an archeologist (Trevor Howard) in Tunis. Attempting to track down some rare Etruscan items, his official visit turns into a nightmare. Amidst a group of nasty gunrunners, a sleazy local crime chieftain and corrupt constabulary, our eggheaded hero gets himself into a whole heap of trouble. He also falls in love with the gorgeous teenage proprietress (Anouk Aimee) of the hotel-bar he stays in.

It is here where we're blessed with the inimitable Wilfred Hyde-White doing his own rendition of Hoagy Carmichael as the bar's butt-puffing piano player - with divided loyalties, 'natch.

There are more double crosses than you can shake a stick at and at the centre of it all is the always-welcome presence of the dastardly Herbert Lom, here playing a big game hunter, strong-arm sharpshooter for the bad guys and general miscreant. Plenty of suspense is to be had in this nicely directed (by Ronald Neame of The Poseidon Adventure fame) thriller with a stellar blend of gorgeously shot location footage matched to studio interiors (courtesy of the legendary DoP Oswald Morris).

And for those who can't watch any thriller without one, there is, I kid you not, a wild boar hunt during the nail biting climax. Boar hunting and Herbert Lom is what one might best call, a "win-win" situation.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: *** 3-Stars

Eva Bartok and Richard Todd in post-war Venice

The Assassin (aka The Venetian Bird) (1952)
Dir. Ralph Thomas
Scr. Victor Canning
Starring: Richard Todd, Eva Bartok, John Gregson, George Coulouris, Sidney James

Review By Greg Klymkiw

Director Ralph Nelson ably steers Victor Canning's screenplay (from his novel) about a private detective (Richard Todd) who is sent to Venice to track down an Italian freedom fighter to reward him for his stellar work during war time. Gorgeous location photography and a haunting score by Nino Rota add up to a fine post-war noir thriller with plenty of double-crosses and a gorgeous femme fatale (Eva Bartok) to keep things delectably dark. Nelson's brother Gerald (eventual director of the "Carry On" series) handles the editing with aplomb - especially given the convolutions of the stirring plot line.

This is standard, but stirring post-war Brit suspense which keeps one on the edge of the seat thanks to a great cast and superb production value all round. Plenty of Hitchcockian touches and a Third Man-like flavour all round.

THE FILM CORNER RATING: ***½ 3-and-a-half-stars

The Kino Classics Brit Noir 5 DVD set is available via Kino-Lorber. Purchas directly from the Amazon links below and contribute to the ongoing maintenance of The Film Corner:

RED RIVER - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Classic Western by Howard Hawks gets the Criterion Collection Touch. Get ready for Mutiny on the Bounty - Cattle Drive Style

In a world of men,
The Duke and Monty
are ultimate bedfellows.

Red River (1948) *****
Dir. Howard Hawks
Starring: John Wayne, Montgomery Clift,
Walter Brennan, John Ireland, Harry Carey Sr, Harry Carey Jr,
Chief Yowlachie, Noah Beery Jr, Hank Worden, Joanne Dru, Coleen Gray

Review By Greg Klymkiw

"I didn’t know the big son of a bitch could act."
- John Ford upon seeing John Wayne in Red River

Everyone and their goldurn' egg-suckin' hound brings up Ford's exclamatory ejaculate upon Wayne's towering performance as the mean-ass cattle baron Tom Dunson in the immortal western by Howard Hawks, but how can one not? Wayne's had the ludicrous bad rap of being a dreadful actor since he first appeared on-screen in Raoul Walsh's 1930 western epic The Big Trail. For decades afterwards, far too many boneheaded pseuds have made this erroneous assumption. Walsh's film was a huge box-office flop. This was due mainly to the astronomical price-tag of being shot in duplicate, once in 35mm, again in an early 65mm wide-screen process and then twice more in French-and-German-language versions. Yes, Wayne's a tad unsteady in it, but then so are all the actors. This was 1930 and The Big Trail was one of the first major sound pictures and a monumental undertaking at that. Poor Wayne suffered in the subsequent ignoble purgatory of Grade-Z westerns until John Ford cast him in Stagecoach.

Though that was a hit, Wayne continued to toil in one picture after another that misused his talent. There were exceptions, of course, like Ford's They Were Expendable and The Long Voyage Home (great movies, but flops nonetheless), Walsh's wonderful Dark Command, William Seiter's rousing Allegheny Uprising, Edwin Marin's thoroughly enjoyable Tall in the Saddle and a clutch of solid war efforts like Edward Dmytryk's Back to Bataan and David Miller's Flying Tigers, plus, lest we forget, Cecil B. DeMille's utterly berserk action-adventure melodrama Reap The Wild Wind, but none of these were big enough to entrench Wayne as a bonafide star.

It wasn't until 1946 that Hawks cast Wayne in Red River and began shooting his stunning film adaptation of "Blazing Guns on the Chisholm Trail", the Borden Chase magazine serial (turned novel), that John Wayne would eventually become a genuine star. It was also at this early juncture when John Ford saw a cut of the film to render feedback at Hawks's request as the filmmaker encountered considerable production and editing snafus. When Red River was finally released in 1948, it was the same year that Wayne also starred in two great John Ford classics Three Godfathers and Fort Apache. With Red River and the two Ford films, Wayne finally shot to the all-important list of guaranteed box-office success as determined by the association of theatre owners in America. Wayne remained on the top ten for 25 years!!!

Red River has oft been described as a cattle-drive version of Mutiny on the Bounty which, at its most basic level it most certainly is. The first chunk of Hawks's picture has a much younger Tom Dunson (Wayne), leaving a wagon train behind, as well as the woman he loves (Coleen Gray) and setting his sights, not westward, but south to Texas. With his old pal Groot (Walter Brennan), Dunson stakes a huge parcel of prime Texas cattle country all for himself. After killing a Mexican emissary who informs him that the land belongs to a wealthy landowner living hundreds of miles away in "Old Mex", Dunson and Groot see clouds of smoke from where they left the wagon train behind.

Matt Garth (later to be played as an adult by Montgomery Clift) is a young boy, delirious with shock, who wanders onto Dunson's land with one lone cow and a tale of the entire wagon train having been decimated by Redskins. When a few of the varmints attempt to make similar mincemeat out of Dunson, Groot and Matt, they end up tussling with the wrong son of a bitch and they're handily dispatched to the Happy Hunting Grounds in the Sky. Upon discovering the keepsake he bestowed upon his lady love adorning the wrist of an Indian he's killed, Dunson's eyes fill with the blankness of a shark. Nothing is going to stop him.

With only the single-minded desire to raise as many cattle as humanly possible, Dunson transforms into a man possessed with pure, almost psychopathic ambition - so pure, so mad, that when the tale leaps ahead twenty years, the number of graves filled with those who would dare threaten the man's resolve dot the now-huge and bustling Dunson cattle ranch with the same frequency as tumbleweeds blasting across the rich Texas grassland. Our tale proper begins then, in Post-Civil-War Texas where thousands upon thousands of heads of Dunson's cattle are ready to go to market. But what market? The South has been ravaged by unscrupulous carpetbaggers and Dunson's herd needs to be driven thousands of miles away to garner the fair price they're worth.

Matt has grown into a strapping lad. The recipient of Dunson's tutelage in the manly arts of fighting and killing and home from fighting with the Rebel Army, Matt has, for all intents and purposes, been raised as Dunson's son and he's a chip off the old block in most ways, except one. When the drive begins, Dunson leads his cowboys with the force and fury of a Captain Bligh. If anything, Matt is the voice of reason. As Dunson becomes increasingly unhinged, ordering whippings and killings of those who would dare make a single mistake, or worse, attempt to abandon the cattle drive, the step-son eventually needs to take control of the herd and the drive.

Dunson, left with no weapons and enough rations to keep him until Matt takes the cattle to market, becomes even more insane and promises that he will eventually hunt Matt down and kill him in cold blood.

There's so much to admire in this tale of the Old West. The action is furious, the suspense often unbearable and the drive itself a thing of utter, sweeping beauty. A stampede sequence is so overwhelming, you need to pinch yourself a few times to prove that the magnitude and force of what you're experiencing is unlike anything you've ever, or will ever see. The drive itself is also a thing of beauty. It's one of the few times in the entire history of cinema where the drudgery and tedious nature of the actions on screen are so naturally life-like that they're anything but tedious.

While there isn't a single performance in the film that's less than perfect, John Wayne towers above everyone and everything. Yes, there's no doubt Wayne's now fully in command as one of the greatest stars in movie history, but his performance runs rings round everyone, including the great Montgomery Clift who was certainly no slouch in the thespian department. And for all the spectacle of this monumental undertaking, Hawks infuses the film with sheer immortality by placing so much emphasis upon the great cast of characters, but always finding ways to exploit Wayne's sheer physically powerful and expert abilities in terms of how he moves and carries himself on-screen.

Wayne barrels through this film like a Sherman Tank and Hawks's instincts with respect to casting this genuine giant were right on the nail. Borden Chase's novel describes Dunson thusly:

"A bull of a man. A brute of a man. Thick-necked, low-jowled, with eyes that looked out at you like the rounded grey ends of bullets in a pistol cylinder."

This is John Wayne. This is Red River. This is a world of men as raw and rough as can be. In spite of all the seemingly insurmountable difficulties Hawks faced at every level to get the film made, he like Tom Dunson, like John Wayne, triumphed beyond all expectations.

And for those so inclined, the movie features the most delightfully homoerotic exchange between two stars ever committed to celluloid. It's a western, of course, so it involves guns. It never gets more phallic than glistening rods - in both life and the movies.

Red River not only represents a triumph of Howard Hawks, John Wayne and American Cinema, but is a film that displays the overwhelming care and artistry of the Criterion Collection in ways that somehow exceed the company's already Herculean efforts and unimpeachable reputation as one of the greatest and most visionary home entertainment distributors. The huge Dual Format 4-disc BLU-RAY/DVD box set includes a 2K digital restoration of the rare original theatrical release version, Hawks's preferred cut and a 2K digital restoration of the substantially longer, prerelease version, which has considerable archival value as its ending comes closer to Hawks's original vision, but was unscrupulously butchered by the boneheaded Howard Hughes (who threatened legal action as he felt it was a carbon copy of the ending in The Outlaw). The package includes two genuinely GREAT interviews with Peter Bogdanovich and Molly Haskell, audio excerpts from a 1972 conversation between Hawks and Bogdanovich, plus a 1970 interview with novelist and screenwriter Borden Chase. Completists will delight to the inclusion of the Lux Radio Theatre adaptation of the film from 1949 as well as an attractive booklet that includes a superb interview with Red River's editor Christian Nyby. There is the less necessary requisite inclusion of the film's trailer, a video interview and printed essay both of the egghead variety by film scholars, but these features will prove welcome to most. What I LOVED, however, given my collector-mentality, is the gorgeously designed box with a lovely cover by Eric Skillman AND - YEEHAAAAAAAA - a terrific new paperback edition of Chase’s original novel which was previously out of print. This is one damn fine book. I read it cover to cover in one sitting and delighted in Chase's first-rate oater-prose as well as all the very appropriate elements that inspired Hawks as well as those that did not (though frankly, add extra richness to the overall experience of enjoying the movie). The Criterion Collection Dual Format edition of Red River is easily one of my favourite home video packages of all time. It's given me a wealth of pleasure and information and will continue to do so for as many years as I'm on this Earth to benefit from it.

Greg Klymkiw's 10 Best Blu-Ray and DVD Releases of 2012 - There will be one new ALPHABETICAL posting everyday until we hit the magic number. Today's Klymkiw Blu-Ray/DVD Accolade for 2012 is: Alfred Hitchcock - The Masterpiece Collection from Universal Studios Home Entertainment

The Best Blu-Ray and DVD Releases
of 2012 as decreed by Greg Klymkiw

This was a stellar year for Blu-Ray and DVD collectors that it's been difficult to whittle my personal favourites down to a mere 10 releases. So hang on to your hats as I'll be presenting a personal favourite release from 2012 EACH and EVERY single day that will comprise my Top 10. At the end of all the daily postings, I'll combine the whole kit and kaboodle into one mega-post.

My criteria for inclusion is/was thus:

1. The movie (or movies). How much do I love it/them?
2. How much do I love owning this product?
3. How many times will I re-watch it?
4. Is the overall physical packaging to my liking?
5. Do I like the picture and sound?

There was one more item I used to assess the material. For me it was the last and LEAST area of consideration - one that probably surprise most, but frankly, has seldom been something I care that much about. For me, unless supplements really knock me on my butt, their inclusion is not that big of a deal. That said, I always go though supplements with a fine tooth comb and beyond any personal pleasure they deliver (or lack thereof), I do consider the educational value of such supplements for those studying film and/or those who might benefit from them in some fashion (film students or not).

So, without further ado, here goes.

Greg Klymkiw's 10 Best Blu-Ray & DVD Releases of 2012 (in alphabetical order) Today's Title (more to follow on subsequent days) is none other than: 

Alfred Hitchcock - The Masterpiece Collection (Limited Edition) Universal Studios Home Entertainment
15 (!!!!!) BLU-RAY Discs

This is the Blu-Ray release we've all been waiting for and it pretty much lives up to all the anticipatory slobber from movie geeks the world over. The 15 films that comprise this mega-box-set, presented on 15 individual Blu-Ray discs in the order of their original theatrical release dates are, for the most part, a stellar assortment. Here are brief capsule reviews of all the movies within this absolute must-own set.

SABOTEUR

"Totalitarian nations . . . get things done." 

Saboteur
(1942) ****
A solid hero in the dependable form of Robert Cummings, the delectable Priscilla Lane and vile villains of the juiciest order in this exciting espionage-tinged chase thriller inspired by Hitch's own 1934 The Man Who Knew Too Much. Noted for its bizarre expressionistic climax atop the Statue of Liberty. As the following clip from Saboteur demonstrates, the film was, politically ahead of its time, only now, in contemporary terms, the tables have turned and the totalitarian regime Hitch's hero might be fighting would be America itself:

SHADOW OF A DOUBT

"Horrible, faded, fat, greedy women."

Shadow of a Doubt 
(1946) ***** 
Utter perfection. One of the most chilling, disturbing & harrowing thrillers of all time with dollops of mordant wit plus an indelible sense of time & place - a seemingly pure, sun-dappled mid-western America. Best of all is Joseph Cotten as "The Merry Widow Killer", one of the creepiest serial killers in movie history - he's truly, utterly horrendous (and, for a time, quite charming). Written by Thornton (Our Town) Wilder, Sally Benson & Alma Reville (Mrs. Hitchcock herself as ludicrously rendered in the recent theatrical film Hitchcock & brilliantly played by Imelda Staunton in the HBO feature The Girl). It has, however, been said that Hitch himself wrote Joseph Cotten's famous dinner table speech. Take a gander at it here and . . . ENJOY!

ROPE

"I never strangled a chicken in my life!"

Rope ***** (1948)
Shot to approximate real time with no cuts (save for reel breaks). Based on the notorious Leopold/Loeb killings with Hume Cronyn's treatment, a script by Arthur Laurents (writer of, I kid you not, the Redford-Streisand weeper from the 70s: The Way We Were), memorably sickening John Dall & Farley Granger performances, first-rate thesping from James Stewart, expert Hitchcock blocking & his trademark expressionism in extremis. Here's a delectable taste of Rope's foul killers:

REAR WINDOW

"He likes the way his wife welcomes him home."

Rear Window
(1954) ****
For my first three decades on Earth, THIS was my all-time favourite Hitchcock movie. Eventually overtaken by Vertigo, it still delivers big time in the suspense department with fetishistic peeping tom qualities running rampant as invalided James Stewart spies on his neighbours and witnesses a murder. Raymond Burr plays one of Hitchcock's scariest villains.

THE TROUBLE WITH HARRY

"Mom! Wally's picking on me."

The Trouble with Harry (1955) ***
A mildly entertaining trifle of a black comedy that's not quite as dark as it wants to be. Buoyed by a tremendously sexy, funny, engaging and very young Shirley MacLaine, Jerry Mathers (Leave it to Beaver) and some stalwart character actors to make the whole affair a pleasure.

THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH

Que Sera, Sera 
WHATEVER
WILL BE
WILL BE

The Man Who Knew Too Much
(1956) ***1/2

Odd remake of Hitch's 1934 original with great suspense set pieces, a weirdly brilliant James Stewart and, in spite of occasional longeurs, can one ever go wrong with Doris Day a singin' ever-so sweetly? In a Hitchcock picture, no less.

VERTIGO

"I don't care anymore about me."

Vertigo (1958) *****
These days when people ask me what my favourite movie of all time is, I have no problem citing this one - but always with the added history of how it is a film I have grown with over the years. The more years, the more life experience, the more I related to the psychological intricacies, layers of character, its obsessive romanticism and the fetishistic qualities of moulding someone into precisely what you want. As creepy, chilling and suspenseful as Vertigo is, it's also deeply and profoundly moving. No surprise it's moved up in so many polls as the best movie of all time. It might well be. What I know for sure is this: Kim Novak's entrance in Vertigo is without a doubt the greatest entrance of any star, of any character, in any movie known to man - now and forever.

NORTH BY NORTHWEST

"That wasn't very sporting. . ."

North by Northwest
(1959) *****
The greatest mistaken identity espionage thriller of them all. Classy Cary Grant, suavely sinister James Mason and that ever-so deadly crop duster diving and aiming on a flat, bald prairie with no cover of escape.

PSYCHO

"I'll lick the stamps."

Psycho (1960) *****
Foul, vile and still astounding psycho-thriller that jangles the nerves with all manner of perversities and horror. The isolated motel. The blonde. The nervous young man. The screeching harridan mother. The taxidermy. The sandwich. The peep hole. The bathroom. The psycho. The blood. It seldom gets scarier than this. And the shower? The jets of refreshing water. The shower curtain. The malevolent shadow on the other side of the curtain. Scared the crap out of me the first time I saw the picture as a kid and still creeps me out.

THE BIRDS

The Birds (1963) *****
Gorgeous blonde.
Stalwart hunk.
Yummy Brunette.
Schoolhouse.
Children.
Thousands of birds that kill.
'Nuff said.

MARNIE

Marnie (1964) ***** Hitchcock's final genuine masterpiece of obsessive love with a great Tippi Hedren performance and a gloriously expressionistic mise-en-scene. Oh God, and that score, that score that sticks to one's brain forever.

TORN CURTAIN

Torn Curtain (1966) **** This espionage thriller is a mess and full of longeurs of the worst kind, but its flaws are overshadowed by several set pieces of suspense and violence that are up there with Hitchcock's best. There's a "kitchen" scene that seems to be a strange reversal, yet extension of the "shower" scene from Psycho that still shocks and horrifies even the most jaded contemporary viewers.

TOPAZ

"Flores para los muertos."

Topaz (1969) ** Bloated, dull spy thriller that's almost uwatchable save for a handful of decent set pieces.

FRENZY

A SACK O' POTATOES

Frenzy (1972) **** I love this sick, hilarious, shocking, brutal and terrifying thriller to death. There's a killer loose in London and he's into rape and necktie strangulation. The detective in charge is more sickened by his wife's grotesque gourmet cooking than the crime scenes he must pore over with a fine tooth comb. Even more perverse is the hero of the film who is so reprehensible that we almost find the necktie killer charming. And then, we have the potato truck scene.

FAMILY PLOT

Family Plot (1976) **1/2 Slight, mildly amusing thriller with a clutch of decent performances - especially from Karen Black and William Devane. It's not quite the last film one would have hoped for Hitch, but it's not without some merit.

Alfred Hitchcock - The Masterpiece Collection on Blu-Ray is ESSENTIAL to own. This gorgeously produced box set is not without some mild flaws, but overall it's a winner and a keeper. The sound and picture transfers range from okay at worst to mind bogglingly spectacular at best, The packaging is attractively designed, though a tad cumbersome in terms of the basic practicality of removing discs for play. And the extra features - the thing I usually care least about - are rendered here with such magnificent detail and considerable educational value that it's an element of the package worth touting.

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO ORDER THIS GREAT BOX SET DIRECTLY FROM THE LINKS BELOW (& GENEROUSLY SUPPORTING THE MAINTENANCE OF THIS SITE):