The Prisoner(s) of Zenda

Ronald Colman (1937) and Stewart Granger (1952).

When is a movie a sequel or just another adaptation of the same literary source? That can be a complex question, but it's not in the case of 1952's The Prisoner of Zenda. MGM's lavish costume adventure is a remake in every sense of the word. It uses the same screenplay and the same music score as David O. Selznick's 1937 The Prisoner of Zenda.

Both films are based on Anthony Hope's popular 1894 novel. Its plot concerns an English gentleman named Rudolf Rassendyll who, while vacationing in the fictional country of Ruritania, discovers he bears a striking resemblance to a distant cousin: the soon-to-be crowned King Rudolf V. When the king is kidnapped by his treacherous half-brother on the eve of his coronation, Rassendyll is persuaded to impersonate the king to prevent political chaos. With the help of two of  loyal advisors, Rassendyll navigates the perilous court politics, tries to figure out how to rescue the king, and falls in love with Princess Flavia, the king's betrothed. 

The plot doesn’t hold up to much scrutiny, of course. It’s a fanciful tale that blends romance and swashbuckling effectively, though in uneven portions. Each film devotes about a third of its running time to the romance between Rudolf and Flavia. That subplot gets cast aside, though, when our hero hatches a scheme to save the king from Black Michael, the evil half-brother. A longer running time—to develop the love story and gallant adventure in equal measure—might have improved both versions of The Prisoner of Zenda. Still, considering their overall entertainment value, such criticism may seem a minor quibble.

Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. and James Mason play Rupert of Hentzau.

So, which movie is the better Prisoner of Zenda? I give the 1937 film the edge—but just barely. Ronald Colman is perfectly cast in the dual roles of king and cousin. He gets outstanding support from Raymond Massey as Michael and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. as his opportunistic, rakish henchman. Madeleine Carroll makes a classy Flavia, but her scenes with Colman could use more passion.

Deborah Kerr as Flavia.

In contrast, Deborah Kerr shines brightly as Flavia in the 1952 movie and generates plenty of sparks with co-star Stewart Granger. The latter may lack Colman’s acting chops, but he makes a likable, charming hero. James Mason matches Fairbanks, Jr. as the henchman Rupert of Hentzau. However, instead of a rakish rogue, his Rupert is delightfully threatening and contemptible. The color photography is a bonus, too, adding some MGM glitter to the coronation and the royal ball scenes.

There have been numerous other adaptations of Anthony Hope’s novel, including a silent film with Ramon Novarro, a TV version starring Christopher Plummer, and a big screen comedy with Peter Sellers. The TV series Get Smart parodied Zenda in the episode “The King Lives.” It featured Don Adams doing a memorable impersonation of Ronald Colman and Johnny Carson in a cameo role as a footman.

David Niven Says Bonjour Tristesse to Deborah Kerr

Jean Seberg and David Niven.

Seventeen-year-old Cecile and her wealthy, widower father split their time between Paris and the French Riveria. Their goal in life is to have fun. The middle-aged Raymond (David Niven) woos young attractive women, keeps them around for a few months, and then discards them. Cecile (Jean Seberg) likes the company of handsome, young men, but she also has no intent of fostering a relationship. Why should she? She has her father and that is all she needs.

Their world gets turned upside down when Raymond invites Anne, a friend of Cecile's deceased mother, for an extended visit at their coastal summer home. Anne (Deborah Kerr) is a strong, self-assured woman with a successful career as a fashion designer. She resists Raymond's obvious charms, which only makes her more attractive to him. Cecile quickly develops a love-hate relationship with Anne, who provides stability in the midst of the "fun first" chaos.

Jean Seberg as Cecile.

Everything changes again when Raymond falls in love with Anne and proposes marriage. Cecile decides that the nuptials cannot take place and develops an elaborate scheme to break up Raymond and Anne. Her actions set into motion an inevitable tragedy.

Author Francoise Sagan was nineteen-years-old when she wrote the then-scandalous novel Bonjour Tristesse in 1954. It quickly became a bestseller and attracted the attention of Otto Preminger. The famed director had completed Saint Joan, an adaptation of George Bernard Shaw's play about Joan of Arc, in 1957. The picture and its star, an unknown named Jean Seberg, had been skewered by the critics.

One suspects that the controversial subject matter of Bonjour 
Tristesse--the film vaguely hints at an incestuous father-daughter relationship--drew Preminger's interest. After all, he never shied away from controversy in films like The Moon Is Blue, The Man With the Golden Arm, and the later Anatomy of a Murder. The challenge with the film version of Bonjour Tristesse (1958) is that, despite two classy leads, a beautiful setting, and plenty of style, the story and characters are simply too shallow.

David Niven as Raymond.

As played by Jean Seberg, Cecile is a petulant brat and her father lacks any parenting skills. When Anne tells Cecile to study for her exams, the latter pouts and appeals to her father. He takes the easy way out by siding with Anne. From that point on, Cecile spends all her time plotting an exit for Anne.

Preminger frames the film so that Cecile tells the story in flashback as she reflects on the emptiness of her and Raymond's lives. To emphasize the impending tragedy, the "current day" scenes are shown in harsh black & white while the flashbacks with Anne are in color, apparently signaling happier times.

Deborah Ker as Anne.

Deborah Kerr gives the best performance by virtue of having the most interesting role. Anne is a character to be admired for being practical while surrounded by a sea of frivolity. However, at the same time, she is not wholly likable and is quick to jump at conclusions. When she sees Cecile and her boyfriend passionately kissing, her reaction is to ban Cecile from seeing the young man.

While Bonjour Tristesse flopped at the box office, all the principals recovered nicely. Preminger made Anatomy of a Murder--arguably his best film--in 1959. David Niven won an Best Actor Oscar for Separate Tables that same year. Deborah Kerr co-starred with Cary Grant in one of her most famous pictures, An Affair to Remember, in 1957. And Jean Seberg became a French icon with her performance in Jean-Luc Godard's New Wave masterpiece Breathless in 1960.

For the record, Bonjour Tristesse translates to "hello sadness." Juliette Greco warbles a woeful, depressing song of the same title during one of the opening scenes.

The Five Biggest Stars of the 1950s

A while back, we had a lot of fun listing our picks for the Five Biggest Stars of the 1960s. Today, we're turning our attention to the 1950s--quite possibly our favorite decade for classic movies. As before, our very subjective criteria take into account boxoffice power, critical acclaim, and enduring popularity. We expect some dissenting opinions...so bring them on!

James Stewart in The Far Country.

1. James Stewart - Thanks to Alfred Hitchcock and Anthony Mann, no actor enjoyed a better decade. In Rear Window and Vertigo, Stewart portrayed complex "heroes" struggling with, respectively, commitment issues and an unhealthy obsession. His hard-edged protagonists in Mann's "adult Westerns" helped redefine the genre. He also starred in a number of hugely popular hits, such as Harvey and The Greatest Show on Earth.

2. Cary Grant - While his career probably peaked in the previous decade, Grant was still going strong in the 1950s. He also benefitted from Hitchcock's magic touch, appearing in To Catch a Thief and North by Northwest. He teamed up with Deborah Kerr in the romantic classic An Affair to Remember. And he started the decade with one of his most underrated and interesting films, People Will Talk.

Deborah in From Here to Eternity.

3. Deborah Kerr - She began the 1950s playing traditional heroines in big hits such as King Solomon's Mines, Quo Vadis, and The Prisoner of Zenda. She then switched things up as a passionate, adulterous wife in From Here to Eternity. She also charmed a generation in The King and I and caught Cary Grant's eye in the aforementioned An Affair to Remember.

4. Marilyn Monroe - She started the decade with a small part in All About Eve and ended it as a major star and iconic sex symbol. Along the way, she starred as a murder-minded spouse in Niagara, appeared in musicals like Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, earned critical praise for Bus Stop, and capped it all off with Billy Wilder's quintessential comedy Some Like It Hot.

Burt in Sweet Smell of Success.

5. Burt Lancaster - Admittedly, I struggled with this last slot, because there are a lot of excellent choices. I opted for Lancaster because of the variety and quality of his work. He appeared in lively swashbucklers (The Flame and the Arrow, the irrepressible Crimson Pirate). But he also turned electrified in dramas such as From Here to Eternity, The Sweet Smell of Success, and Gunfight at the OK Corral.  Two of his lesser films are personal favorites due to the Lancaster charm: The Kentuckian and The Rainmaker.

Honorable mentions:  John Wayne, Grace Kelly, Glenn Ford, Gary Cooper, Elizabeth Taylor, and Audrey Hepburn. Hey, the 1950s was a pretty impressive decade for Hollywood!

Five Stars Blogathon: Cary Grant Tops My List of Favorite Stars

This is my contribution to the Five Stars Blogathon in support of National Classic Movie Day. I encourage you to check out all the posts to this wonderful blogathon. When my fellow contributor Rick asked me to write about my five favorite film stars, I came up with four of them quickly. It was a challenge, though, to determine who to place in that last slot!

1. Cary Grant - Debonair and dashingly handsome, I most admire Cary Grant for his versatility. He can play zany roles in comedies like Holiday, charming heroes in escapist fare such as To Catch a Thief, or serious roles like the bitter government agent in Notorious. My favorite Cary Grant movies: Bringing Up Baby, North By Northwest, and The Bishop's Wife.

2.  Deborah Kerr - This gracious, understated actress lights up the silver screen with her compelling presence. She can play a lonely woman whose passion erupts on a sandy beach (From Here to Eternity) or an elegant governess in which a dance is the only way to convey her feelings (The King and I). She can even convincingly play three women in the same film (the under-appreciated Life and Times of Colonel Blimp). My favorite Deborah Kerr films must include Black Narcissus and The Chalk Garden.

3.  David Niven - This classy performer has a unique gift: He makes any movie better when he's in it. Although he became a Hollywood star, it's surprising how many supporting roles he had throughout his career. He flew alongside Errol Flynn in The Dawn Patrol, eluded Inspector Clouseau in The Pink Panther, and was one of the hotel residents in Separate Tables. He was also an entertaining writer, as evidenced by his delightful books Bring On the Empty Horses and The Moon's a Balloon. Some of my favorite films with this multifaceted actor: A Matter of Life and Death (aka Stairway to Heaven), The Birds and the Bees, and The Guns of Navarone.

4.  Danny Kaye - I always thought this gifted actor/dancer/singer should have been a bigger star. He was an absolute master of comic timing, as evidenced by the hilarious "Chalice in the Palace" and "Get it? Got it. Good!" routines in The Court Jester. He was also incredibly graceful on the dance floor, as he wonderfully displayed with Vera-Ellen in the lovely White Christmas number "The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing." These two also happen to be my favorite Danny Kaye movies.

5.  Katharine Hepburn - I am sure this strong-willed, intelligent actress will show up on many lists in this blogathon--and rightfully so. Like Cary Grant, she was equally at home in comedy and drama. She also managed to remain a star for an incredible five decades (six if you count a trio of made-for-TV movies and a small role in Love Affair). My favorite Katharine Hepburn films include Holiday, Desk Set, and Guess Who's Coming to Dinner.

Honorable Mentions:  Charles Laughton, Alec Guinness, Alastair Sim, Vincent Price, and Gene Tierney.

Separate Tables: A Tale of Two Couples

The sign for the Hotel Beauregard in Bournemouth, England, states simply:

Three minutes from the sea

Fine Cuisine

Separate Tables

While it sounds like a quaint little establishment, it's a rather lively place occupied by a bevy of assorted characters:  a domineering mother and her meek, sheltered daughter; a pompous retired Army major; a young couple in love; a volatile writer; the self-sufficient hotel owner; and others. Two events set into motion the intertwining storylines that comprise the film's plot. 

David Niven and Deborah Kerr.

First, we learn that Major Pollock (David Niven) was arrested for "behaving immorally" in a movie theater. The Major tries to hide this shameful incident from the other hotel guests, but a local newspaper article brings it to the attention of Mrs. Railton-Bell (Gladys Cooper). She already harbors resentment toward the Major since he has befriended her daughter Sibyl (Deborah Kerr). Thus, she relishes the opportunity to disgrace such "an awfully common little man" and tries to convince other guests to push for the eviction of Major Pollock (who turns out to be an unretired lieutenant who made up all his military exploits).

Rita Hayworth and Burt Lancaster.

The second storyline revolves around the arrival of glamorous ex-fashion model Anne Shankland (Rita Hayworth). The real purpose of her visit is vague until it's revealed she was once married to moody author John Malcolm (Burt Lancaster). He has secretly proposed to the hotel manager (Wendy Hiller), but Anne's appearance makes it clear that she and John are still attracted to one another--even though he spent five years in prison for physically abusing her.

If Separate Tables (1958) sounds episodic, that's because it was based on a Terence Rattigan play in which each plot was presented as a stand-alone act. Act I, Table at the Window, told the story of Anne and John--though John was a former Labor politician instead of a hard-drinking writer. Act II, Table Number Seven, focused on the Major's story and his relationship with Sibyl. When the play was originally produced in 1954, Margaret Leighton (The Winslow Boy) and Eric Portman (a Powell & Pressberger regular) played double roles: Leighton played Anne in Act I and Sibyl in Act II; Portman took on the roles of John and Major Pollock. In a 1983 television production directed by John Schlesinger (Midnight Cowboy), Julie Christie and Alan Bates played the four roles.

Niven no longer as "the Major."

Delbert Mann's film adaptation of Separate Tables casts four fine actors in the key roles--but with mixed results. David Niven and Deborah Kerr effortlessly capture the fragile relationship between the Major and Sibyl, two damaged souls who keep their emotions in check--even as they try to express them to one another. For much of the film, Niven plays Pollock playing the role of the loud braggart, who has recounted his made-up military exploits so many times that he almost believes them. Yet, that requires no great acting. It's during a climatic scene--when Pollock finally lets down his guard in front of Sibyl--that Niven shows the true depth of a performance that earned him a Best Actor Oscar. Of course, it helps when you're playing your big scene opposite the marvelous Deborah Kerr, who received an Oscar nomination as Sibyl.

Dame Wendy Hiller.

Unfortunately, as tortured former lovers John and Anne--the showier roles--Burt Lancaster and Rita Hayworth struggle. Hayworth certainly looks the part of a former fashion model, but she still seems miscast as half of this hate-love couple. The script, adapted by Rattigan and John Gay, deserves some of the blame. Personally, I never became invested in either John or Anne and therefore had no interest in whether they reunited or stay parted. I kept thinking that John was better off staying with Pat, the intelligent, grounded hotel owner (but then again, it seems as though Pat could do way better than John!). Incidentally, Wendy Hiller won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar as Pat; she's very good, but appears in only a few scenes.

Separate Tables is a skillfully-directed, well-acted film that holds interest--though its critical accolades (including seven Oscar nominations) now seem overrated. Frankly, I think it would have been a stronger film had it dispensed with Table at the Window and expanded Table Number Seven with David Niven and Deborah Kerr. Of course, I suppose that would have made it a different film altogether. 

Nuanced Terror - Jack Clayton's "The Innocents"

Light and shadow flicker across the screen. Sobbing is heard as a pair of praying hands, clasping and unclasping, come into view. The sobs continue.

A woman’s suffering face appears above the tortured hands. Birds twitter…her distraught voice whispers…

All I want to do is save the children not destroy them. More than anything I love children. More than anything they need affection, love, someone who will belong to them and to whom they will belong.

And then, as a man’s voice asks Do you have an imagination?, the screen focuses, suddenly revealing a well-appointed office, an elegant gentleman and the woman we have already seen…who now sits in a chair and speaks animatedly with the man who continues to ask questions and explain the situation he offers.

Director Jack Clayton

These first moments of Jack Clayton’s masterful 1961 film, The Innocents, set the stage for a chilling and absorbing tale of bewitchment.

Deborah Kerr stars as Miss Giddens, an anxious, fragile-seeming young woman who begins her first assignment as a governess for two orphaned children on a remote estate.

Michael Redgrave briefly portrays the gentleman, Miss Giddens’ employer, whose questions and revelations prime and subtly spook her, before she sets foot in the stately home where events will unfold.

The action intensifies when Miss Giddens arrives at Bly, a magnificent manor that far exceeds her expectations in its grandeur and beauty. She is “very excited, indeed” to be there and her two “angelic” and precocious charges easily charm her. An earthy housekeeper, Mrs. Grose (Megs Jenkins), serves to ground the excitable governess…whose journey proceeds from enchantment to confusion, to torment and disintegration.

Henry James

American novelist Henry James wrote The Turn of the Screw in 1898 while living in England in a large rambling mansion. James has recorded that the story was suggested to him by an anecdote he heard from the Archbishop of Canterbury. This scrap of a tale concerned young children haunted by the malevolent ghosts of a pair of servants who tried, again and again, to lure them to their deaths.

The James novella depicts a young governess on her first assignment, the care of two children living in a grand mansion on a vast estate. The plot deepens when the young woman, daughter of a vicar, begins to suspect the presence of the evil spirits of two deceased servants.

It was several years after James’ book was published before critics began to wrangle in earnest over the interpretation of the story. By the 1920s several had proposed that The Turn of the Screw was less a ghost story and more the tale of inexperienced and high-strung governess who succumbed to hallucinations and madness. A 1934 essay by prominent critic Edmund Wilson dramatically advanced this view.

Henry James himself was equivocal about his intentions, and statements he made on the subject have been cited to support both apparitionist and non-apparitionist views.

Fascination with The Turn of the Screw hasn't waned over the years and it has been adapted from the page to other mediums including opera, the stage, TV and film. In February 1950, Peter Cookson’s production of William Archibald’s stage adaption of the James novella debuted on Broadway as The Innocents; Beatrice Straight starred as the governess.

Eleven years later, the play was adapted to film by British director, Jack Clayton (Room at the Top). Though William Archibald was involved, it was Truman Capote who was primarily responsible for the polished screenplay.

Truman Capote

Capote endeavored to maintain the story’s ambiguity as he felt Henry James had originally conceived it – are the ghosts real or are they the fantasies of a governess gone mad?

Taking the modern view, it’s not difficult to interpret The Innocents as an intricately staged reflection of an unstable woman’s descent into madness: the film closely follows the increasingly erratic behavior and visible deterioration of the omnipresent governess; no one but the governess actually “sees” the ghosts she claims are present; by the film’s end, even the sensible and supportive housekeeper is at odds with the hysterical young woman…and there are many visual clues that the governess may be projecting her own imaginings onto her surroundings. It is no stretch these days to believe that a deranged governess would be capable of terrifying a frightened child to death.

But, viewed from another perspective, the tale can also be read as the story of an inexperienced but well-meaning young woman confronted with the supernatural in the form of malicious spirits. Her fervid determination to save the children from possession could explain her unorthodox behavior. And that is what most people believed when The Turn of the Screw was first published.

Enigmatic and haunting, The Innocents leaves the audience to its own conclusions.

A luminous turn by Deborah Kerr (in her own favorite film performance), Freddie Francis’ cinematography, the script of Archibald and Capote and Georges Auric’s original music all mesh under Jack Clayton’s accomplished direction to create the acknowledged masterpiece among the many adaptations of The Turn of the Screw.

The Chalk Garden: A Tale About Secrets and the Passing of Judgment

Hayley Mills and Deborah Kerr in The Chalk Garden (1964).

The Chalk Garden and Whistle Down the Wind probably rank as two of Hayley Mills' lesser-known films, especially to American audiences who associate her with Disney fare. Yet, Mills' loyal fans consider these films, along with the immensely popular Pollyanna, to be the best showcases for her underrated dramatic talents. On its own merits, The Chalk Garden is a haunting tale about secrets and the passing of judgment on people, often without charity.

John Mills and Deborah Kerr.

Arthur Ibbetson's photography sweeps the audience past water and cliffs into Belle Fountain. It is a lovely but cold mansion that rarely reverberates with warm laughter. The residents of this house include a dowager, Mrs. St. Maugham (Dame Edith Evans), her out-of-control teenage granddaughter Laurel (Mills), and their manservant Maitland (John Mills).

Hayley Mills as Laurel.

Enter Deborah Kerr as Madrigal, who is hired as governess without a reference because she knows something about gardening. Mrs. St. Maugham makes it clear that “Laurel is mine” because her daughter, Olivia, threw away breeding for a passing infatuation. She poisons Laurel's mind against her own mother, causing Madrigal to note that “flowers need nourishment ... your soil can't give them what it doesn't have.” To which the grandmother replies: “Then you give them what they need. You're in charge of my garden.” Madrigal answers: “Am I? I wasn't sure. I'll do my best...to help you with your garden and the child. Their problems are similar.”

Laurel spying on her new governess.

Madrigal herself is “wonderfully odd.” She is quiet and very observational. Laurel realizes that Madrigal is a mystery woman who paces her room at night “like a caged animal,” has only new possessions, doesn't have a picture of a loved one in her room, and receives no letters or phone calls. Laurel discusses these concerns with her grandmother and Maitland as she begins her work to rid herself of another in a long line of caregivers. But even Laurel isn’t prepared for what she learns about Madrigal.

Ronald Neame's tight direction keeps this intriguing story moving quickly as viewer focus shifts from Laurel to Madrigal. He hides the stage play origins extremely well until the climactic confrontations, where the close quarters actually increase the intensity of the revelations.

Dame Edith Evans.

Although Mills accounts for The Chalk Garden's following, her fellow performers steal their share of the spotlight, especially Dame Edith Evans and Deborah Kerr. Evans earned a Best Supporting Actress nomination as Laurel's grandmother. Interestingly, Kerr played a questionably disturbed governess three years earlier in The Innocents, a film version of Henry James' haunting novel The Turn of the Screw. In The Chalk Garden, her charge is a young girl unafraid of possession from ghosts, but with a disturbing need to lie and a fear of expressing honest emotions.

It's an ideal role for Mills, allowing her to combine brattiness with vulnerability and unrepressed anger with youthful innocence. The allure for Mills' fans is obvious, since it provides a welcome change-of-pace from the standard Disney heroine roles (e.g., In Search of the Castaways, The Moonspinners) that stifled her adult career.