Classic Film Review: Desire Me

Desire Me (1947)
Directed by: No director's credit
Starring: Greer Garson, Richard Hart and Robert Mitchum

It's pretty safe to say that, well before the end of production on Desire Me, no one wanted to have anything to do with this oft-overlooked picture.

The specialty channel TCM aired the film last week, with host Robert Osborne detailing the multiple cast changes, script rewrites and revolving door of high-profile directors that all culminated in the film's ultimate plummet at the box office. Few remember the film today. This is not the picture that Greer Garson or Robert Mitchum are remembered for, thankfully.

In fact, the most intriguing thing about Desire Me is the fact that it was the first MGM film to be released without a director's name attached. Jack Conway, George Cukor, Mervyn LeRoy and Victor Saville all took a stab at helming the project, but ultimately left for a myriad of reasons -- namely the lack of artistic freedom and Garson's allegedly difficult personality on set.

It was LeRoy who finished the picture in the end, however, none of the directors wanted their names attached to the film so the studio went ahead and released it without crediting anyone.

Desire Me begins with an isolated house set upon the cliffs in Brittany. With a setting more suited to a film adaptation of Wuthering Heights, we discover that it belongs to Marise Aubert (Garson), a woman who is led to believe that her husband, Paul (Mitchum), has died in the field during the Second World War. When a man appears by the name of Jean Renaud (Richard Hart) he claims that he was her husband's closest companion during the war and that he witnessed Paul's death. Marise finds herself drawn to this personable stranger and sets out to lead a life with him as though he were a replacement for her dead husband. Marise and Jean's friendship is frowned upon by the gossipy villagers -- how could two unmarried strangers live together under one roof? As we learn via flashback, Jean is more than content with this living situation, having fallen in love with Marise based on a photo of her and Paul's stories about his loving wife.

As Jean himself claims in one particularly eerie moment: "I wanted to know what it was like to come home to my own house. My own wife."

Garson and Mitchum

While the audience has their guard up and can sense the emotional instability of Jean, he gradually crosses the line from lonely to creepy, with Marise a little slow on the uptake.

The acting, disappointingly, isn't particularly note-worthy. We've all seen Garson and Mitchum in far more engrossing and challenging roles. Granted, both are gifted actors and make due with what little is given to them in the script -- but it just isn't enough to truly rise above the material. Buried deep beneath this half-wartime love story, half-psychological thriller, Desire Me has a better movie waiting to come out.

The cinematography from Joseph Ruttenberg is gorgeous, lending the film a foreboding sense of danger through his keen eye. His visuals, combined with a lack of soundtrack in the climactic finale, briefly helps Desire Me rise above its scattered script. Eyes meeting through the mist, voices echoing along the cliffs, gunshots ringing out in the night, Ruttenberg's work is stunning. His cinematography allows for a sense of consistency in a film that is a narrative mess.

Desire Me is one of those forgotten classic films that you catch on TV late one night and are reminded as to why it has been forgotten in the first place. While there are stylistic elements that are certainly impressive, Desire Me will ultimately leave you cold.

FINAL GRADE: C+

Revisiting the Classics: Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho

Anthony Perkins as Norman Bates

"We all go a little mad sometimes." 

On Thursday night my friend suggested we check out a screening of Alfred Hitchcock's 1960 horror classic, Psycho, which was playing at a local theatre.

It had been awhile since I'd last visited the Bates Motel and its man-with-severe-mother-issues owner, Norman.

I actually can't recall the last time I'd seen Psycho which makes me think it has been at least five years, if not longer. So, watching it in glorious black and white on the big screen made it feel as though I were watching it for the first time. I'd forgotten about a couple of little twists and the fact that the script (based on the novel by Robert Bloch) was chock-full of great dialogue and slow, engaging character revelations. It truly is a masterpiece of suspense and thrills. And, regardless of how many times you've seen the film, its final twist and closing shot (see photo above) is still as mesmerizing and shocking as it undoubtedly was back in 1960.

A complex psychological thriller, Psycho is celebrated in film circles as one of Hitchcock's finest -- if not his greatest -- achievements (and whether or not you think that Vertigo is technically the better film is a debate worthy of a whole separate blog post). At the age of 61, Hitchcock cobbled together his now-classic shocker on a tiny budget in a matter of weeks. With Hitchcock's knack for building tension and influential stylistic flare, Psycho is as unsettling in its premise as it is a technical marvel -- what with all those unique camera angles, intimate close-ups of his cast and that famous image of Mama Bates' skull superimposed over the crazed face of Norman as the film closes.

But one of the true revelations in Psycho is Anthony Perkins in the lead role. I'd never fully appreciated his performance until this recent viewing. He commanded the screen with a charismatically awkward performance that, on the surface, made him appear as likeable as a young boy eager to please his friends or parents. "I think I must have one of those faces you can't help believing," he tells Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) early on in the film. And you, as the audience, totally fall for it too, just like Marion. Even though you know Norman has the capability to kill, he lulls you into feeling sympathy for him -- you may even catch yourself wishing he'll get the help he so obviously needs.

The role of Norman Bates could have easily been nothing more than a stock horror character. A villain without personality. Someone lurking in the shadows who ultimately leaves no lasting impression once the credits roll. But where Perkins excels is in his ability to make you realize that Norman Bates could be anyone. Literally. He could be the man sitting next to you on the subway, or the woman walking her dog down the street. He's not some Freddy Krueger-type fantasy-villain who would stick out like a sore thumb if you saw him in a crowd of people from across the street. Perkins, with his average-joe features and shy nature, totally inhabits the character of Norman Bates.

It's an all-around fantastic performance in an already perfect psychological thriller.

Classic Film Review: The Lady Eve

The Lady Eve (1941)
Directed by: Preston Sturges
Starring: Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda

We all know the story about Eve and the forbidden fruit -- and right from the opening credits, which includes an animated snake, The Lady Eve puts a comedic spin on the biblical tale.

Jean and "Colonel" Harrington, a father-daughter card shark team (Barbara Stanwyck and Charles Coburn), set their sights on Charles Pike (Henry Fonda) the socially awkward millionaire of a brewery fortune who recently returned from a year-long snake hunting trip in the Amazon (there's that snake imagery again). Jean and the Colonel crave wealth and fame. As the Colonel says to his daughter: "Let us be crooked, but never common." Yet when Jean seduces Charles, she's shocked to discover that she's quickly falling head-over-heels in love. The temptress in her wants to continue her little game and come out on top -- with thousands in her bank account -- but her romantic side has other plans in store as she struggles to persuade her father to abandon their con.

Prior to his 1942 hit, The Palm Beach Story, director Preston Sturges co-wrote this battle-of-the-sexes romp featuring two of the biggest stars of the era. Brimming with witty dialogue and more than a few pratfalls for good measure -- as well as sexually frank innuendo that somehow slipped passed Hollywood censors -- The Lady Eve is a clever and engaging addition to the screwball genre.

Henry Fonda and Barbara Stanwyck

As the slippery dame surprised by the genuine love she feels for her target, Barbara Stanwyck gives arguably one of her finest performances. Generally known for her dramatic roles (see: Double Indemnity), she's an absolute pleasure to watch here as she engages in a battle with her own conscience. Stanwyck manages to portray her character's complexities in such believable fashion you may catch yourself wondering which side of herself she'll give in to: The card shark or the hopeless romantic? She's both effortlessly graceful and charmingly flustered.

Henry Fonda, on the other hand, conveys a vulnerability that's almost painful to watch. Barely cracking a smile -- but generating plenty of genuine laughs with his charismatic performance -- his quest for Jean's hand in marriage is his ultimate goal. Anything less and he would collapse in a ball of misery. Only Fonda could make such an awkward chap such a comedic delight.

The Lady Eve holds up remarkably well, thanks in large part to two exceptional lead performances and the assured direction from a comedy master. Its ingenious script, brisk pace, deceptive characters and sexy banter catapult The Lady Eve into the realm of the classics. It's the quintessential screwball comedy.

FINAL GRADE: A-

Movie Rant: When Theatres Screen Classic Films

James Dean, a Rebel Without a Cause (1955)

I've found a new obsession and I need to start making it a weekly thing.

About three weeks ago I finally got around to actually seeing a film at the TIFF Bell Lightbox here in Toronto. I've been there before, most notably for the Tim Burton exhibit a few months back. But, for whatever reason, it has taken me this long to actually buy a ticket to see a movie there.

Maybe I was subconsciously waiting for the right one, the perfect movie for the perfect first experience.

Well, it came along in the form of a Spotlight on director Nicholas Ray. I bought two tickets to see Rebel Without a Cause and took my sister. It's unlikely we could have found a better film to introduce us to the TIFF experience. I got to watch an iconic film in all its scratchy, crackly glory. No high-definition Blu-Ray edition just popped into a player. No DVD anniversary edition. It was actual film. It popped, cracked and showed its wear and tear.

I've seen Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) in an anniversary theatrical run a few years back, but it was essentially just the DVD copy projected on the screen. Still incredible, but not quite the same experience.

Another miracle of miracles: the audience remained silent throughout the entire screening of Rebel. No talking, no cellphone-checking and no heaving around their weight in restlessness. You could have heard a pin drop. They laughed at the right moments, but other than that, nada. It's rare to have such a perfect viewing experience.

I told my friends about the great experience I had while watching Rebel Without a Cause (oh, and seeing James Dean on the big screen for the first time wasn't too shabby, either) and I recommended that we see a movie together sometime soon.

Jon Cryer and Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink (1986)

That "sometime soon" happened to be this past Friday night. We had a girls night and chose John Hughes' teen angst movie, Pretty in Pink. To see that wonderful piece of melodramatic teen fluff ("What about prom, Blaine? What about prom?") on screen was equally awesome -- ragged and scratched, it looked and sounded so good.

You could almost feel the audience drowning in nostalgia. With its fantastic soundtrack and quotable lines, it would appear that John Hughes movies are still meant to be viewed in their natural state -- on the big screen.

There's just something about seeing your favourite films on the big screen, especially if they were originally released before your time. To have that opportunity to go back and enjoy it the way film audiences of the past did is a huge treat for any film buff.

This must be the equivalent of what music buffs feel when they sit back with a glass of wine and listen to their vinyl records.

What classics or old favourites have you seen on the big screen?

In Memoriam: The Anniversary of James Dean's Death (1931-1955)

James Dean

Eight years ago, I caught Rebel Without A Cause on TV late one night. I was exhausted that day. I had planned on going to bed early, but I was struck by the image of James Dean, lying on the ground with a wind-up toy monkey, in the opening credit sequence for the film.

I recognized the iconic red jacket. It was around this time that my obsession with film was just starting to really take off so I decided, despite my exhaustion, to watch this much-beloved teen angst classic. I figured it would be another Hollywood classic that I could check off my must-see list. I hadn't counted on actually being able to stay wide-awake into the early morning hours.

The film itself is significant to 1950s film history. While parts of it may not have aged very well it still deserves its place among the Hollywood elite. This, in large part, is thanks to Dean's performance. I found him striking, in an odd way, but I was much more intrigued by his unique performance.

Around this time I'd only recently become enamoured with Marlon Brando (the previous year I'd watched The Godfather for the first time -- it was a great introduction to Brando's talent). Dean reminded me of Brando, despite their differences in acting style. Dean clearly idolized and tried to mimic Brando, yet he managed to make all three of his film performances unique and very Dean-esque. From the inspiration he got from Brando he came up with his own style and helped revolutionize acting in film.

Drawing from real life experiences and tragedies, Dean utilized these in his character creations so that the audience could relate and sympathize with his characters, such as Cal Trask (East of Eden, my favourite Dean film and performance).

Rarely do I watch a film and walk away from it absolutely fascinated and in awe of the talent before me. Young actors today so rarely go out of their way to bring something fresh and original to their performances, which is why they won't have the enduring cult power of Jimmy Dean. Watching Dean that night, in the early morning hours, I was saddened at the loss of life and talent. I didn't know much about him at the time, but I knew he'd died young and tragically. I've been a loyal fan, ever since.

Jimmy Dean embodied the charisma, beauty and talent that most actors can only dream of achieving for themselves. Even though he only left behind three cinema features, they will never be forgotten. He was the epitome of masculine-cool. He was ahead of the game both in his activist-humanitarian nature and the way he portrayed a conflicted young rebel. He helped make it okay for male characters to cry in film. Gone were the days of the alpha-male, like John Wayne or Humphrey Bogart. Dean helped usher in a new generation of young, Method actors who saw performance as an art form worthy of their sweat and tears.

It's been 56 years since his death in a car accident at the age of 24, yet time has not diminished his star. To some people he may be a product, just another young dead celebrity face on a poster or a t-shirt -- but to his real fans he was a first-class movie star.

They don't make celebrities like Jimmy anymore.

Here's a rare clip of Dean's screen test for East of Eden (1955).

In Memoriam: Elizabeth Taylor (February 27th, 1932-March 23rd, 2011)

Elizabeth Taylor's death today at the age of 79 has brought about the end of an era. Like both Paul Newman and Tony Curtis' recent deaths, there are certain stars that represent a piece of classic Hollywood that can't be replaced. It reminds us that the "golden days" of Hollywood are rapidly disappearing with the deaths of its legends. Their old films stories and anecdotes are going with them.


Taylor was the true definition of a Hollywood star -- talented, beautiful and controversial in her everyday life. Having worked alongside the likes of Rock Hudson, James Dean, Marlon Brando and Richard Burton, Taylor managed to hold her own and commanded the screen in a way few actresses could.

Taylor passed away at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles, where she'd been hospitalized for the last six weeks. She ultimately succumbed to congestive heart failure after decades of poor health.

The five time Oscar nominee, and two time winner (for her roles in Butterfield 8 in 1961 and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? in 1967), used her fame to bring attention to a variety of causes. In 1993, she was awarded the Academy's Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award. When her close friend and former co-star, Rock Hudson, passed away in 1984 of complications from AIDS, Taylor founded the National AIDS Research Foundation. Her eight marriages, while scandalous and often talked about, were only a small part of what made her Elizabeth Taylor -- the generous, violet-eyed actress and humanitarian. Her good deeds and loyalty to her lifelong friends (most notably Michael Jackson) far overshadowed anything written in the gossip columns. She was always her own woman, regardless of the opinion of those around her.

The first time I ever saw Taylor in a film was when I was a little girl. My mom showed my sister and I the 1949 version of Little Women. She was beautiful, snobby and hilarious. To this day, the most perfect interpretation of the character of Amy March is, and always will be, the one played by Elizabeth Taylor.

As I got older I saw The Taming of the Shrew, Reflections in a Golden Eye and Giant, yet it was her role in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof that always stayed with me. Paired with Paul Newman, Taylor was a powerhouse in the role Maggie Pollitt -- the frustrated wife of Newman's hard-drinking Brick. Taylor was born to recite the dialogue of Tennessee Williams. The quiet, albeit vicious, strength and determination she instilled in her characterization of Maggie was what stayed with me most after the closing credits -- that, and those violet eyes.

Hollywood is now, once again, short one more star -- and there won't ever be another like Liz Taylor.

Book Review: Somebody, The Reckless Life and Remarkable Career of Marlon Brando

SOMEBODY: THE RECKLESS LIFE AND REMARKABLE CAREER OF MARLON BRANDO (2008)
By: Stefan Kanfer

"To the end of his life, Marlon Brando insisted that he had done nothing special. In his view acting was a trade like plumbing or baking. The only difference was that he played characters instead of unclogging drains or kneading loaves of bread. This was not false modesty; he believed what he said. But what he believed was untrue."
~Stefan Kanfer (opening passage from "Somebody")

Film historian Molly Haskell once wrote, "there is only one Brando." In his 2008 biography on the late actor, Kanfer goes above and beyond in proving Haskell's observation. In only 323 pages, Kanfer manages to do what few other Brando biographers have done; portray the man as he really was, without including empty rumours or petty gossip and speculation. Kanfer portrays Brando as a flawed, complex human being with an incredible talent.

Kanfer provides context to the life of Brando, from his early childhood in Omaha to his death in 2004, by setting the stage with issues that were going on in the world at the time. When Brando was born in April of 1924, two youths kidnapped and murdered a 14-year-old boy in a Chicago suburb. It was the time of Prohibition. Since the Great War, the area where young Marlon grew up saw a rise in its black population, causing resentment and racial strife. Not only do you learn about Marlon Brando, but Kanfer makes sure his readers are aware of the America in which the actor was growing up.

It becomes a historical text in so many ways. Kanfer discusses America, classic Hollywood and the sex, drugs and rock n'roll culture which Brando witnessed. It helps the reader to better understand why Brando did what he did and why certain causes were closer to his heart than others.

The book is full of interesting anecdotes that Kanfer dug up through his extensive research, including the fact that young Marlon was always drawn to those who were seen as social outcasts. As a child he befriended the only black boy in one of his classes and took a female classmate, who had issues with her vision because her eyes were crossed, to the school dance. Later in life, this could still be seen in his friendship to Michael Jackson, even when the King of Pop was on trial for child molestation charges, and in his dedication to the plight of Native Americans.

Despite these good deeds and his loyalty to those friends who stood by him, Brando had a quick temper and always had volatile relationships with the women in his life. Interesting fact: actress Rita Moreno once attempted suicide after Brando broke up with her. Their relationship, both personal and professional, always remained rocky from then on. Brando was father to ten children, although there are at least two others who claim they are his as well. He never connected on an emotional level with any of his three wives and would often go months, even years, without seeing some of his own children.

However, Brando often considered himself an activist, first and foremost. He battled against racial segregation, he fought to help establish a Jewish state and took up the cause of Native Americans. After the 1968 murder of Martin Luther King Jr., Brando made it his mission to help further the works of the late King Jr. in the public eye.

Kanfer details Brando's time in Tahiti, his love/hate relationship with his acting profession and the Hollywood friendships and enemies (such as his nemesis, Frank Sinatra) he made along the way. Kanfer believes Brando was happiest in Tahiti, although the actor often left for Hollywood for long stretches of time. It seemed that even though Brando hated what Hollywood represented, he was always drawn to film.

Brando often claimed he made films because of the large paycheques (which would help him when it came time to pay what he owed in his divorce settlements and child custody disputes). However, his comments on acting make for some of the best moments in Kanfer's account. Despite his flippant attitude towards his profession, Brando was a master of his craft and, without ever admitting it, seemed to be aware of that fact. One of his most famous interviews took place in his house in 1994. The infamous hour-long Larry King interview truly captures the persona of Marlon Brando, and Kanfer's novel manages to do that as well.

Brando never abused drugs. He drank very little. His vices? Sex and food. Even though he remained married to his third wife, Tarita, until his death, Brando had three children by his housekeeper and ate so much that his weight ballooned in a short span of time.

Kanfer's engaging prose and film knowledge go a long way towards making this one of the best and most unbiased celebrity biographies out there. Regardless of whether or not you are a fan of Marlon Brando, his life and unique personality make for a compelling read.

GRADE: A

BRANDO QUICK FACTS
-Born on April 3, 1924 in Omaha, Nebraska
-Nickname: Bud
-Parents: Marlon Brando Sr. and Dorothy "Dodie" Pennebaker Brando
-Siblings: Two older sisters, Frances and Jocelyn
-His mother became a depressed alcoholic, his father was a traveling salesman who slept with other women
-Pupil of legendary acting teacher, Stella Adler
-Revolutionized film acting, used the Method Approach in his performances
-Tennessee Williams re-wrote the character of Stanley Kowalski (A Streetcar Named Desire) to suit Brando's Broadway portrayal of the character
-First screen role: as a paraplegic in 1950's The Men
-Most famous roles: A Streetcar Named Desire, Viva Zapata!, On the Waterfront (for which he won his first Oscar in 1954), The Godfather (for which he won his second Oscar in 1972) and Last Tango in Paris
-In 1990, son Christian Brando shot and murdered Dag Drollet in Marlon's own house; Marlon attended Christian's trial and even testified in court
-Penned his autobiography, Songs My Mother Taught Me in 1994
-Lived next door to close friends Jack Nicholson and Michael Jackson
-Brando's son, Miko, was Michael Jackson's bodyguard
-In 1995, daughter Cheyenne committed suicide at the age of 25
-Married three times: #1 Anna Kashfi (one son, Christian), #2 Movita Castaneda (two children: son, Miko and daughter, Rebecca), #3 Tarita Teriipaia (two children: son, Simon Teihotu and daughter, Cheyenne)
-Children with his longtime mistress and housekeeper, Maria Christina Ruiz: Ninna, Myles and Timothy
-Other children: Stefano Brando (mother unknown) and one child he adopted on his own, Petra Barrett Brando
-Two others claim they are Marlon's children: Maimiti Brando and Raiatua Brando
-Final film: The Score (2001) with Robert DeNiro and Edward Norton
-Gave acting lessons at his house in L.A. during the last two years of his life: Leonardo DiCaprio, Sean Penn and Edward Norton are among those who attended group acting sessions with Brando
-Died on July 1, 2004 in Los Angeles at the age of 80 of complications from pneumonia, diabetes and pulmonary fibrosis
-Considered the greatest screen actor of all time