The Moon-Spinners: A Disney Film With a Touch of Hitchcock

Hayley Mills as Nikky.

What do you get when you cross an Alfred Hitchcock suspense film with a Disney movie? The answer is something like The Moon-Spinners (1965), an attempt to transition 17-year-old Hayley Mills to more grown-up roles.

The Moon-Spinners opens with musicologist Fran Ferris (Joan Greenwood) and her niece Nikky arriving on the island of Crete. Despite telegraphing ahead to reserve a room, they are initially turned away by The Moon-Spinners Inn. The inn's owner (Irene Pappas) and, more emphatically, her brother Stratos (Eli Wallach) don't want strangers snooping around. However, when a young lad intercedes on behalf of the visitors, they are allowed to stay for a night.

Nikky becomes infatuated with a handsome stranger named Mark (Peter McEnery), who seems to be keeping a watchful eye on Stratos. Later that night, Mark is shot while spying on Stratos and his crony at the Bay of Dolphins. Nikky discovers a wounded Mark in an empty church the next day and agrees to help him--even though he refuses to tell her what he's really doing on the island.

The windmill where Nikky is captive.

It's a familiar Hitchcock plot: a normal person encounters a stranger and gets involved in a tangled adventure with mysterious people (see The 39 Steps, Young and Innocent). Alas, although loosely based on a Mary Stewart novel, The Moon-Spinners' resemblance to a Hitchcock picture ends with the premise. At a length of almost two hours, it moves sluggishly against its colorful backdrop and struggles to manufacture suspense. Indeed, the only scene that generates any legitimate thrills is when Nikky has to escape from a windmill by grabbing hold of one of the arms.

John Le Mesurier.

Eli Wallach makes for a menacing villain, but also a surprisingly tedious one. It's a shame as we know from The Magnificent Seven that he can play a wonderfully despicable baddie. Fortunately, Wallach gets some help in the villain department from John Le Mesurier, who is introduced late in the film as Stratos' boss. His suave English gentleman remains remarkably calm while dealing with his second-rate henchman and his own wife (a delightful Sheila Hancock), whose propensity for liquor results in talking too much.

One wishes that The Moon-Spinners had made better use of Joan Greenwood, Irene Pappas, and former silent film star Pola Negri. These fine actresses are limited to a handful of scenes, though Negri appears to be having fun as an eccentric heiress with a pet cheetah and a penchant for rare jewels.

Hayley Mills never seems to find the right tone as the teenage heroine; her character comes across as too juvenile. Additionally, she and Peter McEnery have little rapport. When he finally kisses her--Hayley's first on-screen smooch!--it comes across as very chaste. Mills followed up The Moon-Spinners with an excellent performance in The Chalk Garden (1964) and later starred in The Trouble With Angels (1966), one of her most beloved films. The handsome McEnery's film career petered out by the end of the decade despite a promising performance in the earlier Victim (1961) and a starring role in Disney's The Fighting Prince of Donegal (1966). 

Kirk Douglas Discovers a Lovely Way to Die

Italian actress Sylva Koscina.

Beautiful Italian actresses hit the peak of their popularity in Hollywood in the 1960s. Call it the "Sophia Loren effect," since it was spurred largely by her boxoffice hits in the 1950s opposite the likes of Cary Grant and William Holden. Thus, Hollywood studios welcomed Claudia Cardinale, Luciana Paluzzi, and--one of my favorites--Sylva Koscina.

In 1968, Universal tried to turn Ms. Koscina into a big star by pairing her with two popular leading men: Paul Newman in The Secret War of Harry Frigg and Kirk Douglas in A Lovely Way to Die. The latter is one of those movies I saw in the 1970s on television, but seemed to have disappeared. To my delight, it showed up in a 2016 boxed set called Kirk Douglas: The Centennial Collection.

Kirk Douglas looking concerned.

Kirk plays Jim Schuyler, a tough detective who quits the force after getting too aggressive with some bad guys. He has barely turned in his badge when he receives a call from attorney Tennessee Fredericks (Eli Wallach), who wants him to provide protection for his latest client. That client is Rena Westabrook (Sylva Koscina), who is accused with her lover of murdering her wealthy husband. Schuyler has no interest in the gig until he meets Mrs. Westabrook, whose stunning beauty sets his hormones racing.

Rena's innocence is based solely on one key witness, who has unfortunately gone missing. As Jim delves into the mystery surrounding the death of Rena's husband, he can't decide if she's a falsely accused victim or a cold, calculating killer. Either way, he can't overcome his attraction to her, especially since it appears to be reciprocated.

From its peppy title song warbled by Jackie Wilson, it's apparent that A Lovely Way to Die isn't intended as a serious film. Indeed, once the plot is unraveled, it turns out to be pretty simplistic. The film's appeal comes down to its stars and, in this case, they come through.

Kirk Douglas employs his boyish charm to great effect, especially in scenes like the one where he greets Rena's house staff cheerfully after exiting from an overnight stay in the lady's bedroom. He also gets the bulk of the script's one-liners. For example, when Rena asks Jim why he's trying to make love to her, he quips: "I think it had something to do with Mama delivering a boy child." (Later, Rena reverses this line, but it doesn't work as well.)

Eli Wallach as Tennessee.

Still, Eli Wallach practically steals the film--as he often did during his lengthy acting career. It's an impressive feat considering that his role is that of a stereotypical, homespun Southern lawyer. But hey, it worked for Andy Griffith for years on the Matlock TV series. One of my favorite lines in A Lovely Way to Die is when Jim reminds his friend Tennessee that, despite the carefully honed Southern drawl, the attorney hadn't been to Tennessee for decades.

As for Sylva Koscina, she doesn't fare as well as her American co-stars. Despite her jaw-dropping looks, she comes up surprisingly short in terms of allure. Part of the problem may be a lack of chemistry with Kirk Douglas, fueled by an age difference of seventeen years. I also think the costume designers could have created a better wardrobe for her. When Rena asks her maid to pick out "something sexy" to wear, the result is a dress that covers her completely.

Sylva Koscina returned to Italian cinema after A Lovely Way to Die and worked steadily through most of the 1970s. She appeared opposite another Hollywood icon when she co-starred with Rock Hudson in the 1970 Italian-made World War II actioner Hornets' Nest. She died in 1994 at age 61 from breast cancer. She is probably best-remembered by American audiences for her performances as Steve Reeves' love interest in the sword-and-sandal hits Hercules (1958) and its sequel Hercules Unchained (1959).

Hemingway's Adventures of a Young Man

Ernest Hemingway wrote two dozen stories about his alter ego, Nick Adams, throughout his literary career. Playwright and novelist A.E. Hotchner, a Hemingway friend who later penned the biography Papa Hemingway, combined several of the Nick Adams stories into the 1962 film Adventures of a Young Man. Hemingway liked the idea and wrote the movie's opening and closing narration. It was his intent to record it, but he died in 1961.

The film opens in a small northern Michigan town in 1916 with Nick (Richard Beymer) feeling frustrated with a life already laid out for him by his parents. He loves his father (Arthur Kennedy), the town's physician, but can't cope with his domineering mother (Jessica Tandy). Nick sets out on "the road" to discover his place in the world and perhaps become a writer. On his odyssey, he encounters a punch-drunk former boxer (Paul Newman) and his caring friend, an alcoholic small-time promoter (Dan Dailey), and a newspaperman who admires Nick's spunk--just not enough to give the inexperienced young man a job.

Richard Beymer.

Nick ends up working in a restaurant in New York City, where he volunteers for the Italian Army (despite not being able to speak Italian). Once he joins his unit overseas, he is assigned to the medical corps where he befriends a fellow American (Eli Wallach) and an Italian officer (Ricardo Montalban). The horrors of war, a serious injury, and the death of two loved ones change Nick's outlook on life--leaving him more experienced, perhaps sadder, but also better prepared for the challenges that await him.

The idea behind Adventures of a Young Man is both interesting and worthy. The opening scenes, set during a colorful autumn and accented by Franz Waxman's score, have an almost lyrical quality. It's a shame that the rest of the film--which clocks in at almost 2 1/2 hours--can't sustain it. Instead, it tries to mask its obvious flaws: a bland protagonist, miscasting, and a lack of cohesion.

Having never read the Nick Adams stories, I can only comment on the character presented on screen. He's a self-centered, incredibly naïve, and uninteresting young man until much too late in the movie. Even in his final scenes, when he's supposed to have undergone a transformation, Nick's focus seems to be on his own needs. It would have been nice to see him show some interest in what became of his jilted girlfriend (Diane Baker) and loyal friend (Michael J. Pollard).

Paul Newman in makeup.

It doesn't help that Nick is played by Richard Beymer, best known for starring as Tony in the 1961 film adaptation of West Side Story. Beymer's All-American looks may work to his advantage as Nick, but his limited acting range becomes more apparent as the movie progresses. His later scenes opposite seasoned pros Eli Wallach and Ricardo Montalban are almost painful to watch. (Surprisingly, though, Paul Newman gives the film's worst performance as "The Battler," a former boxer who mumbles incoherently and stares open-mouthed into space. It just goes to show that anyone can have a bad day--but when A-list actors do, it's captured on celluloid for posterity.)

Other than sequencing Hemingway's stories, screenwriter Hotchner makes no attempt to connect them. As a result, Adventures of a Young Man unfolds like a string of disjointed TV episodes featuring a single continuing character.

Still, I suspect that Hemingway fans will want to see Adventures of a Young Man. For those readers who admire the Nick Adams stories, here are some of the titles interwoven into the plot: The Doctor and the Doctor's Wife, Indian Camp, The End of Something, The Three-Day Blow, The Battler, and Now I Lay Me.

Seven Things to Know About "The Magnificent Seven"

1. The Magnificent Seven (1960) is a pretty faithful adapatation of Akira Kurosawa's classic Seven Samurai (1954)--except that the American Western is 79 minutes shorter! It does have a scene not in the original: the one where Chris (Yul Brynner) and Vin (Steve McQueen) drive the hearse to boot hill.

2. Yul Brynner was the only one of the original cast to appear in a sequel. He reprised the role of Chris for Return of the Seven (1966), which featured Robert Fuller (Laramie) as Vin. In subsequent movies, Chris was played by George Kennedy (Guns of the Magnificent Seven) and Lee Van Cleef (The Magnificent Seven Ride!).

3. Steve McQueen fidgets with his hat frequently during the film--allegedly in an attempt to draw attention to himself. He wasn't a star yet and, in fact, was still headlining the TV series Wanted: Dead or Alive.

4. Brynner was already a star, of course, but four other Seven actors went on to achieve film or television fame: McQueen, Robert Vaughn, James Coburn, and Charles Bronson. In fact, McQueen, Coburn, and Bronson reteamed for the 1963 classic The Great Escape. As for the rest of the Seven, Horst Buchholz was already considered a promising newcomer and subsequently appeared in Billy Wilder's One Two Three. That leaves Brad Dexter--who played Harry--as the odd man out. Dexter never came close to stardom, but had a long career as a supporting player; he appeared in several films with best pal Frank Sinatra.

5. In his autobiography, Eli Wallach wrote: “The one regret I had in making The Magnificent Seven was that I never heard Elmer Bernstein’s musical score while making the film. If I had heard that score, I think I would have ridden my horse differently.” Wallach originally wanted to play the Buchholz role--until he read the script and realized that the villainous Calvera was the juiciest part.

6. Elmer Bernstein's music score didn't gain fame until part of it was used in Marlboro cigarette commericials. The Philip Morris Tobacco Company licensed Bernstein's music in 1963 for a Western-themed ad campaign and the rest is history. In fact, it became widely known as the "Marlboro theme." A 1967 album was released called The Music from Marlboro Country, which included musical tracks from The Magnificent Seven and Return of the Seven.

7. Robert Vaughn appeared in two other versions of The Magnificent Seven. He played a mercenary in Battle Beyond the Stars (1977), a low-budget remake that transplanted the premise to an outer space colony harassed by John Saxon's villain. Vaughn's character was "adopted" by the colonists' children (as Bronson's character was by the peasant children in the original). Then, for the 1998-2000 CBS TV series The Magnificent Seven, Vaughn guest-starred as a judge on six episodes.

The Friday Night Late Movie: Robert Culp and Eli Wallach Face a Cold Night's Death

When a scientist is found dead at a remote Arctic research station, Frank Enari (Eli Wallach) and Robert Jones (Robert Culp) are sent to complete the high-altitude experiments on chimpanzees and monkeys. Strange events hamper the two from the beginning: an audio tape is mysteriously erased, the generator is turned off while they’re sleeping, their food supply is almost destroyed, and Jones is locked outside in the subzero temperature. Each man begins to suspect the other as the tension builds to an unexpected climax.

Essentially a two-character play, A Cold Night’s Death benefits from compelling performances from Culp and Wallach. Credit must also be given to Christopher Knopf’s clever script which portrays Jones and Enari as something of an odd couple. They almost act married at times: Enari divides up the chores and ends up cooking and cleaning while Jones performs the more “manly” task of shoveling snow to make water. The two scientists bicker almost constantly. When Enari thinks Jones is acting irrationally, he moves his bed to another room—the symbolic equivalent of making Jones sleep on the couch.

The confined sets, the dark hallways, and director Jerrold Freedman’s sometimes extreme camera angles create an atmosphere of uneasiness. Things don’t even look right at the Tower Mountain Research Station.

A Cold Night’s Death (aka The Chill Factor) was broadcast in the early 1970s during what I consider to be the “Golden Age” of made-for-television movies. It was shown on the ABC Movie of the Week, which consisted of 73-minute films of all genres. Although the casts were typically TV performers and the budgets were understandably modest, there were several memorable movies. To mention just a few: Bing Crosby starred in the disturbing Dr. Cook’s Garden; Jan-Michael Vincent was surprisingly good as a hippy Marine in Tribes; and a then-unknown director named Steven Spielberg made the offbeat chase thriller Duel.