1930s List Discussion and Suggestions (Lists Project Vol. 3)

[knives]

I agree and disagree. There's nothing wrong with your statements, but I think they fail to cover why that real science is ever brought up in the first place. It gives some weight to the material where there was none and for me says that just because someone is evil doesn't mean that they aren't right once every long while. It's not much weight and is easily the least interesting part of the movie, but it still works to make it a stronger experience.

[Mr Sausage]

I agree and disagree. There's nothing wrong with your statements, but I think they fail to cover why that real science is ever brought up in the first place. It gives some weight to the material where there was none and for me says that just because someone is evil doesn't mean that they aren't right once every long while. It's not much weight and is easily the least interesting part of the movie, but it still works to make it a stronger experience.

Well, I'd say the inclusion is conventional since it is essentially borrowed from Frankenstein, the first third of which is just Henry Frankenstein glowering at his family and friends and declaring what fools they are for not believing in his experiments. It's just so odd that the writer(s) decided to have Mirakle do the same thing, except with real science, but then only to have him spend the rest of the movie pursuing things even the writers must have known were not scientific. No doubt you're right that on some level they tossed Darwinian theory in there just to spice things up, maybe figuring it would put the audience on edge. But then their loyalties end up seeming divided (the one moment seems genuinely idealistic, but the rest of the movie undercuts that idealism by associating it with hubris). As for the broken clock thing, I think it's neither here nor there since the movie implies both that he's right and he's wrong on the exact same point.

Anyway, what's always annoyed me was the awkward back-and-forth cutting between close-ups of a real ape and long-shots of a man in a suit. Considering how fake the movie is in general, they should have stuck with just the man in the suit. Tom Weaver in his book on Universal Horror mentions that the inserts were done by the studio after production had wrapped and that the production team were non-plussed to discover that the fully-functioning animatronic ape head they had designed for the closeups was pretty much cut out of the film.

[knives]

Again I agree on all points (in fact I was going to use the Frankenstein comparison identically). I guess it's just a difference of opinion on the how it benefits the movie. using real science on that point just strikes me as a stronger statement.

[HerrSchreck]

I pretty much agree with everything Sausage said about Rue Morgue. Though I certainly appreciate the film and return to it now and again for the inevitable nostalgic ride of early Universals-- and of course seeing Freund unleashed on the camera with a bit more inventiveness than the tame work he did in Dracula-- the film has a rushed, disjointed feel to it, where the ingredients just don't seamlessly flow together. And for a Universal horror movie, that's downright unusual, because they were masters of composing these tight little narratives of horror garnished here and there with a touch of humor, romance, etc.

It's obviously a delight seeing Lugosi in the prime of his powers, before his addiction (and his age, let's face it he was no spring chicken by the time of DRacula) dampened the flame of that fiery male charisma which could easily overcome just about any cast.

But something is skewed in Murders, and it's visually tour de force nature can't repair it, at least for me. It may be a matter of character identification-- I find it very tough to root for Dupin, or even identify with him, and this isn't entirely due to Ames' poor performance (at least at times). The film creates such a fascination with Mirakle's character, and causes the viewer to grow so engaged by the peculiar goings on in his lab. . . and with this potentiated by his passionate proclamations as a self-proclaimed bearer of the Darwinian Truth, HE comes off as the central protagonist with which the viewer is to identify. And yet when it comes down to it, his experiments are so twisted and sadistic, he loses his badge as the venerable pioneer seeker of evolutionary truth and knowledge. And yet Dupin's character is an utter bore, and his love affair with with delectable Sidney Fox is yet a yawn, that he can never function as a narrative core and hook for me to hinge on. And the little diddling scenes w Bert Roach fall totally flat for me, especially if as comic releif (particularly w Roach nancing about the kitchen pouting that his food/cooking is not being appreciated).

It just lacks that seamless Universal narrative polish and easy flow. And yet visually it's right up there with Paul Leni's silents as one of the most visually inventive films in the whole Universal canon.

Certainly not a flop, but seems to lack a unity and cohesion between the various elements, which seem to have been formulated at different times and then artificially joined, and then photographed with a minimum of rehearsal for the actors.

[swo17]

Dainah la metisse - Trailing behind La Petite Lise, naturally, but what wouldn't be? This stunted half-film is mysterious and unsatisfying, but that sequence of the magic show is one of the most thrilling pieces of 30s filmmaking.

I have no idea what was happening throughout most of this (no English subs available) but for like 15 minutes of its 50 minute runtime, this film is possibly the best thing that has ever happened. But zedz, you can't sell this thing with words. Here's how it's done...

I will now sell five copies of The Three EPs by the Beta Band:

not actually a spoiler

I see this is playing at the FIAF in Manhattan on June 14th. Don't pass up the opportunity to see it (or La petite Lise on the 21st) if you're in the area. And if anyone would be so kind as to jot down some basic notes about what's going on dialogue-wise, it would be greatly appreciated!

[Gregory]

I wanted to respond to some of Sausage's and Schreck's points about Murders in the Rue Morgue. So I feel like I need to outline a basic interpretation, but such a response probably won't convince anyone of how good the movie is. A film can't get by on subtext alone, and Rue Morgue certainly doesn't need to try. It's such a lovely little horror film that I never get tired of over the years, and it's an admirable template for what a horror film was and should be, using thea loose adaptation of the Poe to explore territory linked to works such as Caligari, Frankenstein, and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

First, it's understandable to say that it feels rushed and disjointed (though it doesn't feel too much that way to me, at least considering it's only an hour). However, this isn't really the fault of Florey's work, because in its original form it was 1/3 longer. I can only wonder how great the film could have been in that form. I'm not trying to convince anyone of its greatness on the basis of a full version that no one can see and assess, but it's important to take all the cuts into account when talking about why this film is the way it is. And I still think this version is outstanding.

Secondly, I completely agree that Dupin is difficult to root for or identify with, and that his romance is dull--but for me that's a key part of the point. If this were essentially a detective story, like the Poe original, I'd want Dupin to be far more original and compelling. But this is essentially horror, and Dupin is there to represent the staid, safe world, his world, which is threatened by the monster. As in so many great horror films, the "protagonists" are boring people, naive and willfully ignorant about the darker sides of life, whose own lives we'd not be interested to watch in normal circumstances. We're watching to see how they confront the threat, and what is revealed about the world as a result of the encroaching horror. Even for its day, I think Dupin's romantic blather to Camille was corny, and the content is revealing: she's so perfect and unspoiled and he doesn't want her exposed to anything unclean, doesn't even want her to know about all the sin and horror of the world. He's privileged to be part of this protected world, and he wants her as a feminine counterpart within it, but the monster complicates this blindly naive plan.

To me at least, Mirakle doesn't really represent modern science. He conducts experiments with no sound methods, and not as part of any community seeking knowledge for its own sake (science). On the contrary, his own deeply misguided experiments are means to enhance his own power, according to his twisted psychology. I think the evolutionary stuff at the beginning was not to cast him as some version of Darwin in the eyes of viewers (a pretty far cry) but to use the concept of evolution to invoke the inhuman, animalistic side to ourselves that still exists within us, as much as religion denies it (more on this below) and as much as we may try to repress it (Dupin and Camille again). It's also a clue to Mirakle's inextricable bond with Erik. If you lined up in a row Erik, Janos the Black One (Mirakle's half-human assistant), and Mirakle, the image might look like a twisted, simplified chart of human evolution, though I don't think malice or violence is biologically inherent in any of them. Neither Mirakle nor Dupin are exemplary humans -- and both are paralleled and connected to one another throughout the film. In a way Mirakle (and thus Erik) is the unknowable dark side within Dupin and I guess to some extent all of us. Some of Mirakle's ideas are correct: we're not made in the image of God; we're still primates, animals (especially complex ones psychologically, of course). I can accept this part of Mirakle's views, even though what he builds on this basis is monsrous.

[Mr Sausage]

I think the evolutionary stuff at the beginning was not to cast him as some version of Darwin in the eyes of viewers (a pretty far cry) but to use the concept of evolution to invoke the inhuman, animalistic side to ourselves that still exists within us, as much as religion denies it (more on this below) and as much as we may try to repress it (Dupin and Camille again).

Except that is what it does. Between Lugosi's impassioned speech on behalf of the imperishability of truth in the face of ignorance, bigotry, and superstition, and the menacing shots of the crowd pushing in towards the camera with hate and fear in their eyes, Mirakle is constructed as a brave, heroic individual. That is how the moment is played. This is why it makes such a jarring contrast with the rest of Mirakle's behaviour, which as you've said doesn't represent science at all (it's closer to black magic). If anything, his motivation seems sado-sexual and quasi-zoophilic as he trawls the streets looking for prostitutes for his ape.

While on some level the Darwinian stuff was there to suggest human savagery, its inclusion is not played as sinister or foreboding, but as brave and heroic. The actual Darwinian idea is quickly forgotten and you become transfixed by Lugosi's defiance. Such a speech would not be out of place in the mouth of a hero from another movie.

[Gregory]

The scene plays that way for you, but not for everyone (e.g. me). The speech itself may seem brave or heroic, but I don't think Lugosi could or would ever serve to portray a heroic role-model figure, even for one scene. He just wasn't the type at all, and his delivery, the lighting etc. show him to be a fanatic, even if some of what he is saying is true. It seems like one of any number of such scenes in mad scientist film in which a religious character pipes up to accuse the "scientist" of playing God, committing blasphemy, tampering with the natural order, etc. upon which the latter scoffs and sometimes accuses the critic of being cowardly and small-minded. I do think mad scientist pictures can have something to say about the most misguided and megalomaniacal human interventions in the natural and physical world -- but this hardly implicates science as a whole. Anyone who would make that leap is confused and probably already has some very odd biases, it seems to me.
Anyway, with my previous post I was hoping to broaden the discussion a bit beyond that one particular scene.

Speaking of Freund, my other favorite example of his work in this decade is probably All Quiet on the Western Front. The Good Earth is another one I've been meaning to see for quite a long time.

[Anhedionisiac]

Not to rewind the thread but I just wanted to add that I saw The Spy in Black last night, partly thanks to knives enthusiastic endorsement and I must say I wholeheartedly concur. It's a brilliant film and one that really makes me respect Emeric Pressburger's talents as a scriptwriter (even more than I already did), a sort of lackluster finale notwithstanding.
Seriously, not to sound like Von Trier but, even though he's the villain, Conrad Veidt was so suave and heroic I was actively rooting for the Nazis.

[Sloper]

The Spy in Black is a lot of fun; be sure not to miss Contraband for the 1940s list, it's very similar but even better for my money (and you don't have to feel guilty about rooting for Veidt...)

[knives]

Seriously, not to sound like Von Trier but, even though he's the villain, Conrad Veidt was so suave and heroic I was actively rooting for the Nazis.

(and here's the smart thing) they aren't Nazi's. Making this a period piece prevents any problems with having Veidt be such a sensitive and positive character even then. I mean for at least half of the story we are firmly planted within his POV and knowledge so that he almost becomes the traditional action hero. It's only later on do things change to make the character roles more fitting for the time which is such a perfect twist because it does legitimately make one look back on the entire film from before that point and have to do a reevaluation.

[swo17]

Spotlight: Tange Sazen and the Pot Worth a Million Ryo (Sadao Yamanaka)

This shares a lot in common with Le million (even right down to the title--I guess a million whatevers must have been a lot of money back then), but whereas Clair's film is propelled by an elusive lottery ticket's changing hands enough to fill the runtime of a movie (my apologies if I'm being overly reductive here), Tange Sazen is more concerned with exploring what we assign worth to, how we value our time and dignity, how the things we seek are not necessarily the things that will bring us happiness, and how we can be staring right at one or the other and either not realize it or find that it is just outside our reach. But did I also mention that this is a comedy? (And a very funny one at that.) So in conclusion, see this if you value your life. (Not because I'm threatening you, but, um, because it will make your life better. Or something like that.)

[Michael Kerpan]

Tange Sazen is remarkably delightful -- definitely one of the best comedy films of its decade.. I wish it was more widely available in subbed form -- I agree everyone _should_ see it. ;~}

[Tommaso]

Yes, it's wonderful, and actually I never thought that the Japanese cinema of that time could have a film that is indeed so funny, irreverent and at the same time deeply humanistic. I like it even better than "Humanity and Paper Balloons".

[Michael Kerpan]

I like all three of Yamanaka's surviving films pretty much equally -- each has its own unique strengths.

I think it we knew more of Japan's films of the 30s, we would find lots of very funny (yet humanistic) films. Lots of terra cinematica incognita still.

[knives]

I can pretty much say at this point best director of the decade is a three way tie between James Whale, Josef von Sternberg, and SHIMIZU Hiroshi I hope. In all seriousness it would not take much effort to just have the top half of my list exclusively be their films. That first name came about last night when finally watching his directorial premier Journey's End, a WWI film that is rather different from the usual Big Parade styled ones that were being churned out at the time and I think it's all the more powerful for it.

The film is very claustrophobic with the lead six stuck in one room for almost the entire run time. Even those moments where the characters leave the camera seems to stay in the safety of the room even as the sounds of gun fire makes for staying put even more uncomfortable than had it gone outside. There's a certain slow suffocation like you are dying with these men caused by this. The whole film moves like the work of a seasoned expert rather than the first film of some cocky young kid. It doesn't even make the talented rookie mistake of showing off. There's a fluidity of movement to the camera, but it mostly stays silent and strong allowing for the performances and environment to do the important stuff.

The entire cast is phenomenal and we so get into every single person's head so well that even the facial ticks begin to signal important feelings within the characters. The subtle naturalism that we talked about early on with Waterloo Bridge is on full display here with an added humour that makes even the small misfortunes a discomfort. Colin Clive is just as great as usual here playing a man who is an asshole by situation not choice. I was actually reminded about this bit R. Lee Ermey went on where he said his character in Full Metal Jacket wasn't a bad guy, but that you just had to be that way in that situation and that is even more powerfully true here. This guy is absolutely vicious and even villainous on one occasion to save the lives and in his mind dignity of the men he's sworn to protect. This is a performance totally unlike any I've seen from Clive before and really cements his death as one of the greatest misfortunes in the entire history of cinema. This is the man who not only proves the exception to the rule of protagonists in the sort of movies he lead in have to be bores, but manages to make that rule seem absolutely wrong headed. The personality and gusto on display here make his final moments all the more chilling as he breaks down from witnessing one too many horrors. As an aside before I move on I hope I'm not alone in thinking that Jeffrey Combs looks like his clone. The resemblance is disturbing.

The other actors are just as memorable, but I think my favorite even over Clive is Uncle as played by, I think, Ian Maclaren. He offers more than the finale the biggest emotional moment for me when he relates to Raleigh a story about a fellow soldier who got nicked by no man's land. More than anything else in the movies that has communicated the comic tragedies of war.

[Wu.Qinghua]

Spotlight: Tange Sazen and the Pot Worth a Million Ryo (Sadao Yamanaka)

Thanks for putting 'Tange Sazen ...' in the spotlight - and for your apt comments on it, swo17. I took the plunge these days and have to admit, that I do really like the movie, though, after having revisited 'Humanity and Paper Balloons' last night, I've come to the conclusion, that I'm still preferring that one to the million ryos, maybe because of its more 'sociological' approach and its darker tones. But as I am not that fond of Ozu ('Tokyo Chorus' still being my favourite), I suppose both films may make my list in the end ...

[swo17]

You're welcome. Moving on to some animation, I had taken note earlier in the project of Alexeieff and Parker's Une nuit sur le mont chauve, but rewatching it last night I was perhaps even more struck by it. This was apparently made with the same technology as those things that you stick your face in and then you can see your face on the other side cast in metal, which is creepy enough as it is, but just imagine the same process being applied on a much larger scale to cast ever-morphing shadows of demons and goblins onto the screen. Disney would later take the same story in a different direction in the much more famous Night on Bald Mountain segment of Fantasia, and while I'm hesitant to say that Disney ripped this earlier film off, I wouldn't turn away any anti-Disney votes for the Alexeieff either. You can see this on Disc 3 (Light Rhythms) of the Unseen Cinema set, or on a Facets release devoted to Alexeieff.

[matrixschmatrix]

I watched a Laurel and Hardy feature and short last night- Sons of the Desert and The Music Box, which I understand to be among their best liked work.

Sons of the Desert was funny at points, but it relied so thoroughly on garnering sympathy for the boys by portraying their wives as horrible shrews that it was difficult to enjoy. It had a sitcom-ish feel to it, with naughty husbands trying to have fun while their wives scare the hell out of them- the leads were funny, obviously, but it didn't seem that strong overall.

The Music Box seemed much purer- with no wives, and very few extraneous characters, the elemental conflict between two idiots and the simplest of tasks turns almost into a Sisyphean parable. The premise is the simplest thing imaginable, Laurel and Hardy try to move a big object around. The execution was a lot of fun- this may come as a surprise, but they are not very successful!- but somehow I didn't enjoy the cruelty of the comedy here as much as I do with, say, WC Fields.

I think it may be partially because Laurel and Hardy seem so fundamentally innocent. They do a dance near the end of the short that was a highlight, and one of the most wonderful things I've seen a comedy duo do together, and it made me yearn to see less business where everything on Earth conspires to make them miserable and more moments of grace like that one.

Then, too, Fields' annoyances were more subtle, and therefore somehow much more irritating; with Laurel and Hardy, you're in a world where a piano can essentially get up and walk, just to piss you off. It's as though they live in a crueler world, a world designed entirely to make them always the butt of the joke, and they wander blissfully through and never notice.

[swo17]

Knowing full well that others of you will have already picked other Joseph Cornell films for your lists, I am meaninglessly going to throw my support behind Jack's Dream (available on Disc 2 of the Unseen Cinema set), a brightly tinted short that juxtaposes what looks like outtakes from Mr. Rogers' land of make believe with nautically minded found footage, all set to Debussy's lovely "Clair de lune." It almost looks like something you would discover late at night rummaging through old home videos, with certain parts inadvertently recorded over in ways that seem much more profound than could have ever been intended. It also looks like it could have been whipped out in an afternoon and yet this film will not leave my mind. It reminds me of being sad and awestruck as a child. Also, it fills my seahorse quota.

Incidentally, there are a lot of these Cornell films on Unseen Cinema and perhaps other sets that aren't on IMDb and which have dates listed in the set that are less than helpful (i.e. c. 1938-?, c. 1930-1980). For eligibility purposes, I'm going to say that anything like this for which the earliest date listed falls in the 1930s is game. Though as always, if there's some ultra-rare IMDb-invisible film that you intend to put on your list, you're strongly encouraged to bring it up here, not just to clarify that it's eligible, but also to remind everyone else that it's worth consideration.

[Gregory]

Many of the Cornell dates are pretty arbitrary because it's impossible to pin down what years many of the films were made, or the order they were begun and mostly created. So maybe it's indeed best to just go with many of the 1930s and '50s years that are commonly listed. But Jack's Dream and several others were mostly created in the 1940s, by the best estimates (Larry Jordan's at least). By the way, the later dates given for some of the Cornell films (1970s-80s) just indicate when they were officially released after Jordan did the finishing touches following Cornell's death.

Rose Hobart is definitely 1930s, and I'll be voting for that one. It's sui generis to an extent that my ranking it seems especially arbitrary to me -- but it's gotta be toward the top, for so many reasons.

[myrnaloyisdope]

Yup love me some Rose Hobart. I'll probably end up voting for Mamoulian's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde too (though Rose Hobart isn't particularly memorable in that one). I got to see of a bunch of Cornell films along with Jean Painleve's work for free at Cinematheque Ontario a couple of years ago. Best money I ever spent. I can't say that any other Cornell films really resonated in quite the same way as Rose Hobart, which I just find brilliant on so many levels. It has a hypnotic quality and some of the edits just feel so right. I adore the soundtrack as well and somehow it also fits perfectly. Plus it reminds of my teenage hood when I would tape and collect various fragments and bits of whatever actress/celebrity I was into at the moment.

[swo17]

Many of the Cornell dates are pretty arbitrary because it's impossible to pin down what years many of the films were made, or the order they were begun and mostly created. So maybe it's indeed best to just go with many of the 1930s and '50s years that are commonly listed. But Jack's Dream and several others were mostly created in the 1940s, by the best estimates (Larry Jordan's at least).

I wasn't aware that some sources might put some of these films in the '40s. Can you provide support for this? Unseen Cinema lists dates for all of these as "c. 1938":

The Children’s Jury
Thimble Theater
Carousel: Animal Opera
Jack’s Dream
Children’s Party
Cotillion
The Midnight Party

Also, the Voyager Foundation site (which sells a Cornell DVD set) puts Jack's Dream, Cotillion, and Midnight Party in the '30s as well. And IMDb, which only lists Children's Jury and Children's Party, gives them release dates of 1938.

Obviously, not every single one of these is going to attract votes, but the important thing is that we all agree to categorize them in one decade or another. This is one key area where we differ from the genre projects--no one should be excluding something they love from their lists simply because they don't "feel" it belongs in the 1930s. So I suppose the question here is: Does anyone else want to vote for Jack's Dream but feel it belongs more in the '40s?

[Gregory]

Voyager's DVD Magical Worlds of Joseph Cornell lists "ca. late 1930s" for Bookstalls and "ca. 1930s" for Jack's Dream. Putting circa before a whole decade on the latter suggested to me that there was some real guesswork involved there, which fits with what Jordan has said. There is some incorrect information in that Voyager Release, though it was well worth purchasing, such as listing the runtime of Jack's Dream as 6 minutes when it runs a little under 4 minutes.
Jordan's entry for Jack's Dream, Carrousell (aka Carousel - Animal Opera), and Thimble Theatre for the Canyon Cinema catalog said,

There is no way now of determining the order in which the films were made, or even the exact years, but it was some time in the '40s.

I'd be interested to know where Posner got "c. 1938" for all three for Unseen Cinema, but it's not a big deal at all, and I'm 100% fine with calling these three 1930s films for the purposes of the list project.

[swo17]

Interesting, and I'm sure Jordan has some idea what he's talking about, but yeah, let's just call all of these '30s films for listmaking purposes.