December 2024

CONCLAVE (2024)

    This thoroughly entertaining Vatican drama consists of a series of conversations, usually hushed and staged to create a sense of sinister mystery. German director Edward Berger (“All Quiet on the Western Front”) manages to make even the most mundane exchanges feel like state secrets are being discussed.

   I have no idea how accurately the film reflects the process of selecting a new pope—I’m sure experts would have raised loud objections if it was way off—but the archaic rules mirror this institution that has existed since the 1^st Century. Based on a novel by Robert Harris, the script by Peter Straughan (“Tinker Tailor Soldiers Spy”) rolls from one controversy to another amid this solemn procedure.

     The 120 Cardinals from all over the world gather and then—with less efficiency than a high school class officers’ election—vote by written ballot until a candidate receives 66 percent.

     Leading the conclave is a reluctant point man, Vatican Cardinal Lawrence, brilliantly evoked by Ralph Fiennes. Though the cardinals have no official discussions on the merits of the candidates, the behind-the-scenes lobbying and dirty tricks would make the Nixon White House blush.

     Among the leading candidates are American Cardinal Tremblay (John Lithgow), liberal Italian Cardinal Bellini (Stanley Tucci), traditionalist Tedesco (Sergio Castellitto) and Cardinal Adeyemi (Lucian Msamati), an African cleric desperate to lead the church.

    Immaculately shot by Stephane Fontaine, who captures the (mostly) bloodless fighting in the sterile hallways and staircases of Vatican City. Under Michelangelo’s majestic ceiling, these men of faith collude and conspire like low-rent mobsters.

    Other than the over-heated direction, my main criticism of the film would be its lack of substantial religious discussion about the state of the Catholic Church and faith the 21^st Century, at least until the film’s explosive finale.

     This performance ranks with Fiennes’ career best, right there with his adventurous hotel concierge in “The Grand Budapest Hotel” (2014) and his menacing Nazi officer in “Schindler’s List” (1993). He’s in virtually every scene in the new film.

    Tucci stands out among the supporting players as an egotist who puts on airs of being a reluctant candidate. In this very male-centric picture, Isabella Rossellini, enjoying a late-career resurgence, is memorable as the Vatican’s outspoken Mother Superior.

     Though “Conclave” doesn’t offer the religious philosophy of “The Two Popes” (2019), it’s a serious film that doesn’t short-change its thriller aspects, an impressive combination in Hollywood 2024.

 

GLADIATOR II (2024)

    As he has for nearly a half century, Ridley Scott delivers another entertaining tale of a world far from, but not unlike, our own, returning to ancient Rome, setting it a few decades after his Oscar-winning “Gladiator” (2000).

    Smoothly mixing CGI and old-fashioned “thousands of extras,” the filmmaker and his team—special kudos to production designer Arthur Max (four-time Oscar nominee including for the 2000 original)—follow the journey of Lucius (newly minted star Paul Mescal) after he is taken prisoner by Roman forces following a North African battle. Spotted by flamboyant gladiator wrangler Macrinus (old Scott hand Denzel Washington, having the time of his life with the role), Lucius ends up becoming an heroic Colosseum attraction and, inevitably, a pawn in the political intrigue surrounding a crumbling, decadent Rome.

    Long gone are the glory days of Marcus Aurelius; the city-state is now under the thumbs of giggly, masochistic twins Geta and Caracalla (actual rulers in real life), who prefer conquering new lands rather than feeding their citizens.

      The other key player in the power struggle is battle-weary Gen. Acacius (Pedro Pascal, “Game of Thrones”), who is married to Aurelius’s daughter. One problem I had with the film, especially in the beginning, was distinguishing between Mescal and Pascal---they could be brothers. Their characters don’t end up connected by blood, and Acacius nearly disappears in the film’s second half, so casting such similar looking actors makes little sense to me.

    Additionally, I couldn’t get around the lack of dark-skinned soldiers fighting for North Africa or the influential presence of Washington's Macrinus in this very Italian world. But we all know by now that looking to Hollywood for historical accuracy is a fool’s errand.

      Not surprisingly, Washington, who starred in Ridley Scott’s “American Gangster” and in numerous films for his late brother Tony starting with “Crimson Tide,” steals every scene he’s in. But Mescal, Oscar-nominated for “Aftersun” (2022), holds his own as the reluctant, but unbeatable warrior.

     It says much about the state of filmmaking that every year many (or most) of the most interesting movies are creations of directors who came to prominence in the 1970s. This year alone, Francis Coppola, Woody Allen, Clint Eastwood, George Miller, Paul Schrader (see next month’s blog) and Scott continue to speak to audiences half their age with an understanding that making entertaining, thoughtful pictures never grows old.

 

WAXWORKS (1924)

    In the mid-1920s, German directors played a substantial role in advancing the art of film in a period when sophistication in moviemaking was making giant leaps every year. One of the most influential of these filmmakers during what became known as the German expressionism art movement, but largely forgotten today, was Paul Leni.

     His creepy thriller “Waxworks” set new standards in inventive filmmaking; even aged a century it’s a mesmerizing viewing experience. (free on YouTube.)

     The oddball story starts when a writer, called The Poet and played by future Hollywood director Willliam Dieterle, is hired by the owner of a wax museum to craft horror stories about his inanimate figures. Immediately falling for the owner’s daughter (Olga Belajeff), the Poet writes himself and the girl into the tall tales of evil characters of the past. Screenwriter Henrik Galeen was also responsible for the German classic “Nosferatu” (1922).

       The three-part movie features dastardly deeds by Harum Al-Rashid (notorious 8^th Century caliph of Baghdad), Ivan the Terrible and Jack the Ripper, played by three of the biggest names in German cinema, Emil Jannings (“The Last Command,” “The Blue Angel”), Conrad Veidt (“The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari,” “Casablanca”) and Werner Krauss (“The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari,” “Napoleon at St. Helena”), respectively.

     The bizarre tales are enhanced by the “expressionistic” camera angles (cinematographer Helmar Lerski), the color-tinted shadowy look, and an array of strange, frightening characters. Each episode plays out like a chaotic, horrifying nightmare.

     After this film, Leni spent the next few years helming a series of animated shorts called “Rebus Film,” which were shown before and after features. The section shown before the main feature offered clues to a small crossword puzzle and then provided answers afterward. He made eight of them before moving to Hollywood, where he made “The Cat and the Canary” (1927) for Universal, helping to kick-off the horror cycle that made the studio famous. Leni’s most acclaimed American film was “The Man Who Laughs” (1928), based on the Victor Hugo novel of a disfigured man (Veidt) who is discovered to have royal blood. It’s a lavish epic filled with histrionics.

    One year later, at age 44, Leni died of sepsis from a tooth infection.

    Dieterle had a substantial acting career, possessing classic leading man looks, before he moved behind the camera. In 1930, he relocated to America, hired by Warner Bros to direct German-language version of U.S. films (He also starred as Ahad in “Demon of the Sea,” a version of “Moby Dick” directed by Michael Curtiz.)

      Dieterle’s directing career, which continued into the 1950s, was highlighted by the 1937 Oscar-winning best picture “The Life of Emile Zola” and “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” (1939).

 

A REAL PAIN (2024)

    I don’t believe you need to like the main characters to appreciate a movie, but when you hate them, it becomes a large hurdle to overcome. There is plenty to value about this character study of cousins who join a tour of Poland focusing on the experience of Jews during World War II, but I can’t tell you how glad I was when it was over.

     Jesse Eisenberg, who also wrote and directed, plays David, a successful family man who has a fragile relationship with his cousin Benji (Kieran Culkin), who has struggled with finding his place in life. He was especially affected by the death of their grandmother, born in Poland who miraculously avoided being sent to a concentration camp.

     Eisenberg plays the kind of character he’s best known for: a frazzled, uncertain, somewhat bumbling man-child who seems afraid of his own shadow, while Culkin has the showier role of a troubled man who conceals his self-hatred by making himself the center of attention.

     Because it’s a small tour group—just four others besides the cousins—they quickly get to know each other and see the best and worst of Benji’s volatile personality.

     The reason to see this grating picture is for Culkin’s performance. The 42-year-old, once known as Macaulay’s little brother, has established himself as a fine actor in mostly streaming series, especially in “Succession,” playing the “Fredo” of the Roy family. In “A Real Pain,” Culkin digs deep into his character’s inner conflicts that erupt in sometimes very uncomfortable outbursts. It’s not a “type” that shows up in many American films.

 

MARIA (2024)

    I guess there is value in educating younger viewers about a musical legend from the 1950s and ‘60s, a forgotten figure who once was a household name. But this chronicle of the final weeks of the life of opera diva Maria Callas, with the usual flashbacks to the glory days, is a cinematic mess.

    Dull beyond words, the film only shows life when star Angelina Jolie lip synchs Callas’ arias.

    This looks like it should have been a showcase for Jolie, who has shown herself to be a very capable actress in “A Mighty Heart” (2007) and “Changeling” (2008). But the film’s Maria is lifeless. Not even her scandalous affair with Greek shipping magnet Aristotle Onassis (and future husband of Jackie Kennedy) is neither explained or played for much effort.

     Director Pablo Larrain made two superb films focused on divas: “Spencer,” about the outcast Diana, and “Jackie,” about the tragic widowed first lady. But here he lets pretense and overly designed images override any sense of story. The usually fine screenwriter Steven Knight (“Dirty Pretty Things,” “Eastern Promises”) doesn’t offer much help to either the director or his star.

 

ANORA (2024)

     Winner of this year’s Palme d’or at Cannes, this high-voltage peek into the lifestyle of a spoiled son of a Russian oligarch offers more sex, nudity and violence than necessary along with plenty of sarcastic, dark humor.

     Anora (Mikey Madison) who goes by Ani, speaks just enough Russian, among other attributes, to win the instant affection of Ivan (Mark Eydelshteyn) after a lap dance at a Brooklyn strip joint. Soon he convinces her, in his fractured English, that she should be his girlfriend. Ani accepts too quickly, awed by his spectacular house (of course, his parents’) and lavish lifestyle. That he acts like a middle-school student on speed doesn’t seem to bother her.

    During a wild week in Las Vegas, they are married, triggering a not very subtle response from his parents’ representatives. Unfortunately, the trio of lunkheads dominated the second-half of the film.

 

    Madison (TV’s “Better Things”) gives a heartfelt performance as an innocent (yes, even a stripper can be innocent) caught up in an age-old dilemma—the parents control everything. Though she’s half naked for most of the film, Madison shows her character to be much more.  

    Unfortunately, there’s not much point to the flashy indie picture, written and directed by Sam Baylor (who made the equally pointless “The Florida Project”) unless one is shocked by the irresponsible life led by the Eurotrash of America.

 

RUMOURS (2024)

    I’ve never been a big fan of cult films and their directors; vague plotlines, poor acting and pretentious screenwriting mar most of this subgenre. But I’ve championed a few filmmakers who never managed to break through into the mainstream, most enthusiastically Henry Jaglom, the Orson Welles protegee whose films include “Someone to Love” (1987), “Venice/Venice” (1992) and “Déjà vu” (1997); Hal Hartley, a dry-witted minimalist whose best movies are “The Unbelievable Truth” (1989) and “Henry Fool” (1997); and Canadian iconoclast Guy Maddin.

    Since the mid-1980s, Maddin had created a series of offbeat black and white pictures (and countless shorts) that look and sound like they are rediscovered early talkies made by some nameless Eastern European filmmaker.

    He even manages to find actors who seem to be remnants of an earlier age. His best films are “The Saddest Music in the World” (2003), set at a bizarre music festival organized by a beer company owner played by Isabella Rossallini, and “My Winnipeg” (2007), part documentary and part re-imagining of the director’s upbringing in the Canadian city. Finding any of Maddin’s films is a challenge, to say the least.

     Now, for reasons that are unclear, he’s made a wide-release picture, starring Cate Blanchett, that bears little resemblance to his previous works. I hate to report that “Rumour” is one of the most ridiculous and pointless films I’ve seen in a while.

    The simplistic plot begins with world leaders, gathered in a rural German town, concluding the annual G7 meeting. While in a remote area of the property they begin work on the conference-ending statement. The script depicts them as small-minded fools, including Blanchett as the German chancellor, Charles Dance as the bewildered U.S. president and Denis Menochet as the emotional Canadian PM, who previously was involved with the British PM (Nikki Amuka-Bird).

     The discussions among these world leaders are about as interesting as a gathering of middle schoolers in the cafeteria. I’m all for pulling the curtain aside to reveal incompetence, but at least make their gibberish interesting. Then, just when you think you are watching the dullest film ever, it gets worse. The leaders begin to suspect that some kind of apocalyptic attack is in progress, either on them or the entire world.

     Amazingly, these men and women who run the free world seem only vaguely concerned for humanity as they attempt to return to the conference hotel.

     Maddin offers only glimpses of the zombies—or whatever they are—who seem most interested in masturbating. The film does offer a giant brain, I’m sure a remnant of one of his previous works. 

   The only semblance of humor in this stultifying satire of modern-day politicians is their determination to continue work on their “statement” for the press even as they struggle for survival in the forest.

    I cannot imagine how anyone involved (other than friends and family) thought “Rumours” was worthy of theatrical release—hopefully it won’t completely derailed Maddin career. This should have been shipped directly to some obscure streaming company where no one would have ever seen it.

 

. JUROR #2 (2024)

    First the good news: this reasonably compelling, well-directed picture washes the truly awful “Cry Macho” off the books as Clint Eastwood’s final film. If this is the 94-year-old’s last effort as a director, he can walk away proudly.

    But what might have been an even more interesting drama about a jury weighing the case against a husband charged with murdering his wife is undercut by a lead actor who lacks the screen presence to star in a car commercial.

     Nicholas Hoult plays juror Justin Kemp, the titular character, who realizes on the first day of testimony that he may have been involved in the incident that led to the victim’s demise. But he doesn’t come forward, instead deciding that he can change the opinions of the other jurors, who are unanimously ready to find the accused guilty, by casting doubt on the prosecutor’s case. Considering the conservative leanings of Eastwood, the film is surprisingly blunt in its position that justice in America is way too fragile.

    Though clearly modeled, in the script by Jonathan A. Abrams, on the 1957 classic “12 Angry Men,” Eastwood’s picture focuses on Justin’s maneuvers to sway the jurors without admitting his involvement. But Hoult, who still has the baby face that made his performance in “About a Boy” memorable when he was 13, seems unable to project the complex moral dilemma he faces as Juror #2, completely deflating the film’s intensity.

    I assume Eastwood sought out an actor whose generic look of innocence was unmistakable; instead, Hoult’s Justin feels shallow, unreflective and a bit too comfortable with his own corruption.

    Adding some energy to the proceedings are the always reliable J.K. Simmons, as a juror who is poised to re-investigate the crime and Toni Collette as prosecutor Faith Killebrew, who has let political ambition cloud her legal judgments.

 

 

PHOTOS:

Ralph Fiennes and Stanley Tucci in “Conclave.”  (Focus Features)

Conrad Veidt  (center) is Ivan the Terrible in a nightmarish segment from “Waxworks.” (Kino Lorber)

Mikey Madison and Mark Eydelshteyn enjoy Las Vegas in “Anora.” (Neon Films)

Nicholas Hoult and, two chairs down, J.K. Simmons in “Juror #2.” (Warner Bros.)

 

 

 

 

 

September 2024

 

MEGALOPOLIS (2024)

   Imagine you are suffering from a very high fever after just spending a weekend in Las Vegas wrestling with the meaning of life. After struggling for hours to fall asleep you finally slip off and begin to dream. You are in the future, you don’t know why and nothing anyone says makes sense, but every corner of this fever dream-nightmare looks incredible.

    That’s how I would describe this much-anticipated, self-financed Francis Ford Coppola sci-fi extravaganza; a visual cacophony that spends little time lingering over plot details or character motivations, instead reeling in the excesses of self-obsessed powerbrokers in a near-future New York City. The 85-year-old Coppola, a filmmaker responsible for four of the greatest American movies ever made along with being one of the finest screenwriters of the last half-century, finally put his dream project on film, seemingly sparing no detail and he deserves applause for that. But, like some of Terrence Malick’s recent works, I regret that few filmgoers will get much out of it.

       The story—labeled a fable by Coppola---centers on an enigmatic architect Cesar Catilina (a robotic, self-consciously intense Adam Driver) who has a vision on how to remake the city (part New York, part Rome) but is opposed by corrupt Mayor Franklyn Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito, creating the only believable character in the film). It was never clear to me where the vitriolic hatred Cicero has for Cesar comes from or why, when his daughter Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel) becomes involved with Cesar, the mayor objects so vehemently.

     Also messing with Cesar’s grand plans is his former lover Wow Platinum (Aubrey Plaza), who connives to marry Cesar’s elderly uncle (Jon Voight) and works with Cesar’s rival Clodio (Shia LeBeouf). But as I write this I realize that explaining the tale makes much more sense than it does on the screen. The film lacks any sense of story continuity and most of the dialogue might as well have been in Latin for the insight they offered.

     While the film seems to be about the crumbling American Empire, chipped away by the corruption and excesses of the wealthy, it also might be about an admired artist whose vision no longer has an impact on the masses.

      The interior cinematography by Mihai Malaimare Jr. (“The Master”)---clearly much of the exteriors are CGI---is stunning, creating a modern-day, absurdly opulant Roman Empire that signals (like the names of the characters) that the end is near.

     Driver and most of the other actors never seem completely sure of what they are doing, lunging from spot to spot when not stepping to a choreographed sequence. I’m not sure what Cesar’s constantly flailing arms were all about. Not only does much of the dialogue seem improvised and stiffly delivered but so does the blocking.

    While I found most of the characters simply annoying, it was nice to see Laurence Fishburne as Cesar’s chauffer, who also narrates the film; as a teenager he was Clean in Coppola’s “Apocalypse Now.” And the writer-director’s sister, Talia Shire has a small role as Cesar’s long-ignored mother.

    Coppola hasn’t made a mainstream film since “The Rainmaker” (1997), but his three independent works made this century, “Youth Without Youth” (2007), “Tetro” (2009), “Twixt” (2011) are all interesting pictures worth seeking out. “Megalopolis” is cut from a different cloth, audacious on a large canvas with plenty of crazy thrown in. There’s more than a few high weeds to cut through to find the story’s path and while I went in ready to do the hard work, I’m not sure it was worth the effort.

      Imagine Warren Beatty’s “Dick Tracy” merged with “Babylon” (2022) along with bits and pieces from a few Roger Corman psychedelic flicks and you’ll have the starting point for this one-of-a-kind cinematic journey.

  

SATURDAY NIGHT (2024)

     You had to be somewhere between 18 and 30 years old in October 1975 to appreciate the impact the debut of “Saturday Night Live” (then just called “Saturday Night”) had on youth culture. With the first few shows, “SNL” established a new cool, a new attitude, a new humor, a new way to look at the world.

    My generation’s cellphone was television and this show forever altered the tube, breaking it free from the post-WW II conservatism that had ruled the networks for 30 years with cynical commentary on politics and unfettered discussions of sex.

     As the comedy skit show celebrates its 50^th season, its chaotic, unlikely and nearly disastrous opening night—at least in the early years it was more like an off-Broadway production than a TV show---has been stitched into a feature film. Writer-director Jason Reitman (“Juno,” “Up in the Air”), with co-writer Gil Kenan, chronicles the backstage hysteria of the 90 minutes prior to airing at 11:30 p.m. on Oct. 11, 1975 in a movie that is both a nostalgic time capsule of the era and a hilarious re-enactment of the arrogance and ambition of the cast and crew, focusing on 30-year-old creator and producer Lorne Michaels.   

    The camera follows Michaels, whose been the man in charge for all but five years of the show’s run, still the producer at age 79, through the halls and dressing rooms of 30 Rockefeller Plaza as he tries to keep tabs on the unruly cast, cut the number of skits down to 90 minutes, calm the guest performers (host George Carlin and puppeteer Jim Henson) and convince NBC execs who are ready to spool up a repeat of “The Tonight Show.”

      Gabriel LaBelle, who played the young Steve Spielberg character in “The Fabelmans” (2022), gives a superb performance as Michaels, doing his best to keep the train on schedule as everything that can go wrong does—lighting, sound, disruptive crew, a brooding John Belushi (a spot-on Matt Wood) and a network VP (Willem Dafoe) who hopes the show fails. Of course, we known who wins this battle and that the show goes on to become one of the most important in the industry’s history, but experiencing the trip is wildly entertaining.

     With all these types of films, the open question is how much of it is true. Reitman has told reporters that he spoke with surviving cast and crew members, but there was obviously some condensing and hyperbole—it is a comedy.

     The entire cast, mostly unknowns, are uniformly excellent starting with Rachel Sennott as Rosie Shuster, head writer who was married to Michaels; Cory Michael Smith as the acerbic, egoistical Chevy Chase; Dylan O’Brien as Dan Aykroyd, who here seems more a collection of his “SNL” characters than a real person; Ella Hunt as Earth-mother Gilda Radner; and Lamorne Morris (no relation) as Garrett Morris, the only Black member of the original cast.

     A special nod must be given to Nicholas Braun, who plays both the unorthodox comedian Andy Kaufman (whose mime of the “Might Mouse” theme was the highlight of the first show) and the overly orthodox Jim Henson; and J.K. Simmons, who adds another gem to his character collection playing Milton Berle, the giant of early TV who shows up backstage thinking these young performers admire him.

    There are literally dozens of performances, some lasting but a minute or so, that add to both the authenticity of the film’s setting and the magic of staging a live performance.

     After seeing the film, I rewatched that first episode of “Saturday Night.” It’s pretty much a mess, with four short sets by Carlin that fail to mesh with the freshness of the skit work, two sets each by musical performers Billy Preston and Janis Ian and an overlong skit with the Muppets. The Not Ready for Prime Time Players barely register; even Chase’s Weekend Update only lasts a few minutes.

       The show improved quickly as Michaels’ reduced the host’s role and soon Chase, Belushi, Aykroyd, Radner, Morris, Laraine Newman and Jane Curtin were setting the stage for a new generation of comedians and helping to shape a generation of American viewers. Yet even these early, off-stage moments captured in this film signal that important changes lie ahead.

 

THE PRIME OF MISS JEAN BRODIE (1969) and

THE MILLIONAIRESS (1972)

      Acting is a tricky business: Even the best of the best gives unconvincing or dull performances because of a poor screenplay or the lack of strong direction. Seemingly immune from this truth, Maggie Smith, who died last month at the age of 89, had the ability to turn even the most mundane dialogue into a memorable line, inevitably biting, insightful and tinged in humor.

     Give her a first-rate role, of which she had many on film, television and the stage, and she ranks as one of the finest performers of the past 70 years. Especially impressive was her ability to maintain her fame and skills in the final years of her life, turning her character as the Dowager of an esteemed family in the British TV series “Downton Abbey” into a national treasure—on both sides of the Atlantic.

     I rewatched a pair of performances by a much-younger, redheaded Maggie Smith in which she plays headstrong women who are so self-involved that they barely recognize the rest of the world.

     Smith won the Oscar for playing Jean Brodie, an iconoclastic history teacher at an Edinburgh girls’ school in the 1930s determined to turn “her girls” into liberated women. Defying the administration, Brodie’s classroom lectures are more like personal essays on the glories of living life to its fullest than history lessons. But her downfall results from her inexplicable admiration for Mussolini and Franco, which she preaches during class. Her passion for these fascists makes little sense, plot wise or character wise.

     Only Smith’s brilliantly delivered strident monologues, some dreamily romantic, others assailing the conservative headmaster, hold this episodical movie together. Based on Jay Presson Allen’s play from Muriel Spark’s novel, feels disjointed and contains a few morally dated plot turns, including depicting another teacher, who never faces any consequences, involved in an affair with a student.

     “The Millionairess,” a BBC-produced George Bernard Shaw satire about the self-indulgent rich, offers the perfect role for Smith. Epifania Fitzfassenden (the names in the play say it all) is an outrageously wealthy woman who, in the first, and most hilarious, act, visits a lawyer seeking to adjust her will before she kills herself. It’s all comically dramatic as she recites her complaints about her marriage and her husband’s dalliances. Halfway through the act, she’s joined in the solicitor’s office by her husband (James Villiers), his girlfriend (Priscilla Morgan) and Epifania’s admirer Adrian Blenderbland (Charles Gray).

    Shaw’s flamboyant dexterity with the English language has never been put to better use or handled with such subtlety and wit as Smith delivers. She’s mesmerizing.

     The rest of the play grows a bit heavy handed as Epifania, on a bet, turns a struggling mom-and-pop business into a money maker and then refurbishes a decaying old inn, where the final act takes place. As usual, Shaw is intent on showing the foolishness of both the poorest of poor and the richest of the rich.   

      Smith’s late career renaissance as a snarky observant elder began when she was just 50, with “A Room with a View” (1985), as the chaperone to a young woman (Helena Bonham Carter) on an Italian vacation. But 2001 was the watershed year for the actress as she appeared in Robert Altman’s “Gosford Park,” written by Julian Fellows, who went on to create “Downton Abbey,” and in “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone,” the first of seven “Harry Potters” she appeared in.

    In “Downton,” as Violet Crawley, the long-widowed mother of the proprietor of her family’s estate, she observes and comments on the changes in her family and the pre- and post-World War I world. Her wry asides and understated wisdom served as the heart of the long-running series, elevating her status as maybe the most beloved British actress of our time.

    For those seeking out lesser-known performances by Smith, here’s three of my favorites: In “The Pumpkin Eater” (1964), one of the finest acted films of the ‘60s, she plays a classic Harold Pinter character, a talkative houseguest who never leaves; as a spinster falling for a younger man in a boarding house in “The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne” (1987); and, more recently, in “The Lady in the Van” (2015), as an irritating homeless woman who camps out in front of a man’s house (based on writer Alan Bennett’s actual experience).

   

BOLERO (1934) and RUMBA (1935)

     It’s hard to ignore the irony of the film career of George Raft: He came to prominence as a dazzling nightclub dancer yet was the most wooden actor among stars of the 1930s and ‘40s.

     If Raft is remembered at all today, it’s for his rumored connection to gamblers and mobsters (he was childhood friends with Bugsy Siegel), a belief that caused him to both lose and gain movie roles. It certainly wasn’t his acting skills. But in the early years of sound, he was a popular romantic figure, a more modern Valentino, a more street-wise Grant. The key film in his career was Howard Hawks’ mob classic “Scarface” (1932), in which he played Rinaldo, the righthand man to Paul Muni’s mob boss. But before that, in the mid-1920s he was a well-known dancer, famous for his tango and often cited as the fastest Charleston dancer on the New York nightclub circuit.

    I recently watched a handful of Raft films and most interesting are these two pictures in which he’s cast as an up-and-coming dancer, both co-starring Carole Lombard.

    In “Bolero,” Raft plays egotistical hoofer Raoul De Baere, who even when he’s nothing more than a club taxi dancer, earning tips from middle-aged women, he’s convinced he’s going to be famous. Even his brother, also his manager, played by William Frawley (later Fred in “I Love Lucy”) grows tired of his arrogance. Eventually, he partners with no-nonsense dancer Helen Hathaway (Lombard), who is willing to deal with Raoul.

      Even 90 years ago, the plot was tired and obvious, but it’s the dancing that wins the day, especially an elaborate dance number done to Ravel’s famous composition. Director Wesley Ruggles (1930-31 best picture winner “Cimarron”) doesn’t waste too much time away from the stage, giving Raft plenty of room to show off his fancy footwork.

    An added attraction is real-life nightclub performer Sally Rand, who does her infamous fan dance as an opening act for Raoul and Helen.

    “Rumba” focuses on another famous dance, this one from Cuba, that Raft’s character Joe Martin introduces to New York audiences. His partner is another performer known for her dancing, Mexican actress Margo. Lombard plays a wealthy woman who goes in and out of Joe’s life.

     Raft continued as a leading man, almost always dressed to the nines, for Paramount through the 1930s but was constantly fighting with the studio bosses and getting suspended. Even his friends took the heat for his reputation: well-known baseball player (and later manager) Leo Durocher, who roomed with him in the offseason and copied the actor’s flashy attire, was finally ordered by the game’s commissioner to end his association with the actor.

     Eventually Raft moved to Warner Bros. where he damned his own career by turning down “High Sierra” and “The Maltese Falcon,” roles that catapulted Humphrey Bogart to stardom. It was long rumored that he also passed on the lead in “Casablanca,” but that’s been disclaimed over the years. Though he apparently did turn down “Double Indemnity.”

     He found fewer and fewer good roles after WW II and later in his career mostly played parodies of his tough-guy image. But for two decades, Raft was one of the most notoriously famous entertainers in America.     

  

ANOTHER WOMAN (1988) and THE BETTY FORD STORY (1987)

     It was a sad sign of the times that the tributes that appeared following Gena Rowlands’ death in August, no one mentioned her brilliant performance in “Another Woman.”

     Best known for her emotional work with husband-director John Cassavetes, the actress had relatively few outstanding appearances for other film directors, yet critics were loath to write about this one she made for persona non grata Woody Allen. This study of a crumbling marriage not only stars Rowlands as a philosophy professor but her character’s thoughts serve as the picture’s narration.

     Rowlands’ Marion, comfortably married to Ken (Ian Holm) takes an office in New York to work on her latest book, but gets little work done when she overhears a therapist’s session through the connecting air vent. She later puts a face to the voice—a very pregnant Hope (Mia Farrow), who, despite her ironic name, expresses her deep depression and thoughts of suicide to the psychologist.

    The words of Hope resonate, prompting Marion to reexamine her relationships after she runs into a blunt-speaking old friend and then dreams she’s part of a stage play re-enacting her darkest feelings about her marriage. This is screenwriter Allen at his most Chekhovian, reflecting the regret that life hasn’t lived up to romantic notions of youth.

    By the late 1980s, Rowlands, then nearing 60, was almost exclusively working in television movies, many produced to be uplifting rather than reality-based. At her best, like in this intense, heartbreaking film, Rowlands’ characters were unquestionably real people. What makes this performance stand out is her ability to make you see what she thinks as she listens to other actors, to understand the anguish on her face—it’s the kind of subtle but emotionally complex performance that would have earned the actress critical acclaim if it was a Broadway production.

     Of course, Rowlands’ greatest performance came 15 years earlier in Cassavetes’ “A Woman Under the Influence,” in which she plays a construction contractor’s (Peter Falk) distressed wife. A quirky, free spirit whose mental state grows shakier by the day, her Mabel is one of the most poignant female roles of the 20^th Century.

    After some conventional work in the late 1950s and early ‘60s, Rowlands earned critical praise with her memorable role as a prostitute bouncing from one drunk to another in her husband’s “Faces” (1968). The picture, lauded at the time for redefining film acting, is hard to watch today with its long scenes of misogynistic shouting and reliance on extreme closeups.

    She soon settled into a career as a TV Movie of the Week star, earning eight Emmy nominations and three wins, most memorably as First Lady Betty Ford, who very publicly battled drug and alcohol addiction.  

    Just named vice president by Richard Nixon, while entangled in the Watergate scandal, Gerald Ford tells his wife he will retire when his term ends in 1977. Then history intervenes; not only does Ford become president but he runs for reelection.

    But for Betty, especially after surviving breast cancer, the stress and the pain sends her into a downward spiral of overuse of prescription drugs and nonstop cocktails. Though the movie was approved by the Ford family (the real Betty Ford speaks before the credits), it doesn’t pull any punches in chronicling her addictions and reluctance to seek help.

       Rowlands makes you understand how one can slip into addiction and the embarrassment when confronted about it. Like in all her roles, Rowlands face says more than a page of dialogue can. She won both an Emmy and a Golden Globe for her performance. 

       I’m not sure why Rowlands, certainly among the most talented actresses of her generation, didn’t appear in more feature film roles; in addition to “A Woman Under the Influence,” she was nominated for “Gloria” (1980), as a mobster’s moll on the run. She should have been competing every year with Jane Fonda, Faye Dunaway and Julie Christie for Oscar gold.

  

JOKER: FOLIE á DEUX  (2024)

    For all the excesses of the 2019 original, one of the best films of that year, director Todd Phillips took Arthur Fleck’s story seriously. The sequel, which picks up with “Joker” in a brutal prison for the mentally disturbed awaiting trial, spends much of its running time indulging in the musical daydreams of Fleck, all featuring classic songs performed by Joaquin Phoenix, back as Joker/Fleck, and Lady Gaga, playing his love interest Lee Quinzel.  

    The first half of the movie takes place in the prison, where guard Jackie (Brendan Gleeson) has a soft spot for Fleck and offers him occasional perks (between beatings) that include him meeting Lee. She encourages Fleck to open up and embrace his Joker persona.

    While she’s creating a ground swell of support for the Joker, his lawyer (Catherine Keener in a thankless role) tries to prepare him for his murder trial where she’s claiming he has a split personality.

     The second half of the story, in the courtroom, moves at a glacier’s place, revealing nothing new about Fleck or his murders. By that point, one realizes that the musical interludes—in one Fleck and Lee have a “Sonny and Cher”-style TV show---were the only way the filmmakers could pad out this story into a feature. Though I kept waiting for a Bruce Wayne reference that never came.

     I’m not sure what Phillips and co-writer Scott Silver were hoping to accomplish by adding the music: imagine a film about Charles Manson in which his character sings “That’s Life” (reprised from the first film), “When You’re Smiling” and “That’s Entertainment,” among others from the Great American Songbook.

     But even without the intrusive songs, was there anything more that needed to be said about Fleck and the state of violence in American than the scene near the end of the first film with him dancing on top of a crashed police car for a crowd of rioting Joker imitators? All “Folie á Deux” does is tarnish the memory of the really good first film about a classic comic-book villain.

 

ASSIGNED TO DANGER (1948)

     Before he became one of the leading directors of Westerns in the mid-1950s, Budd Boetticher made a couple dozen B-movies, mostly crime thrillers, starting in 1944.

     After spending time in Mexico as a matador, he moved to Los Angeles, working in small industry jobs before becoming an advisor on “Blood and Sand” (1941), a big-budget bullfighting picture starring Tyrone Power and Rita Hayworth.

     His first credit as director (using his actual first name Oscar) was “One Mysterious Night” (1944), a fast-paced Boston Blackie movie, starring Chester Morris as the one-time thief who helps police solve high-profile crimes. In this one, he’s in search of a legendary diamond with the exotic nickname of the Blue Star of the Nile. It’s as corny as it sounds.

 

     Six years later, he made what may be the best of his Bs, “Assigned to Danger.” Mixing an unlikely romance with tough-talking low-rent criminals, the script by Robert E. Kent and Eugene Ling raises the movie above its production values and lack of stars.

       After a payroll holdup leaves the gang’s leader (Robert Bice) badly hurt, they hide out at a rural hotel run by his wife Bonnie (Noreen Nash). But the insurance company is one step ahead, having already sent to the hotel its chief investigator Dan Sullivan, played by Gene Raymond, a top supporting player in the 1930s who downgraded to low-budget pictures by the 1940s.

      In just 66 minutes, he falls for the bad guy’s wife and, mistaken for a doctor, is forced to remove a bullet from Frankie’s arm and then care for him. One of the strangest and most interesting aspects of the film is the hotel’s handyman, a scary looking man who is deaf and unable to speak but devoted to Bonnie. As played by future familiar face Gene Evans, in just his second credited role, he serves as a more sympathetic Frankenstein’s monster.  

     Boetticher elicits the most out of Raymond, Nash and Bice and keeps the action moving even though it’s mostly set within the hotel.

     The director’s career should have taken a huge leap with his 1951 psychological study of an American matador, “Bullfighter and the Lady,” well played by Robert Stack and Gilbert Roland as his mentor. Based on Boetticher’s experiences in Mexico, this picture would have been one of the best films of the year if it hadn’t been chopped down by John Wayne’s production company from 124 minutes to 87 (reportedly edited by John Ford).

     Not until 1987 was Boetticher’s cut restored and it was universally acclaimed as a great film, at least allowing him to bask in some glory before his death in 2001. But back in the 1950s the director continued his path helming low-budget pictures until “Seven Men from Now” (1956), the first of his series of spare, literate horse operas starring Randolph Scott and mostly written by Burt Kennedy. Even those films—including “The Tall T” (1958) and “Ride Lonesome” (1959)—were not appreciated until years later.

    His last feature of note was “The Rise and Fall of Legs Diamond,” the 1960 bio of the legendary high-living 1920s mobster, played by bland TV star Ray Danton.

 

PHOTOS:

Adam Driver and Nathalie Emmanuel in “Megalopolis.” (Lionsgate)     

Pamela Franklin and Maggie Smith in “The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie.” (20^th Century Fox)

George Raft

Gena Rowlands and Gene Hackman in “Another Woman.”  (Orion Pictures)

Noreen Nash and Gene Raymond in “Assigned to Danger.”  (Eagle-Lion Films)