Bert I. Gordon's The Food of the Gods

Marjoe Gortner as Morgan.

Is it possible to feel nostalgic about a Bert I. Gordon movie?

Mr. B.I.G. was known for making movies about giant people (The Amazing Colossal Man), enormous insects (Beginning of the End), and large prehistoric creatures (King Dinosaur). He was not known making good movies. Thankfully, there is no correlation between a film's quality and its nostalgic value. Hence, I feel no guilt about enjoying a recent viewing of The Food of the Gods (1976), which I originally saw at a tiny cinema in my hometown of Winston-Salem, NC.

Very loosely based on H.G. Wells' 1904 novel, The Food of the Gods finds a professional football player named Morgan (Marjoe Gortner) taking friends on a hunting trip to a remote island off the coast of British Columbia. When one of the friends is killed by what appears to be a giant wasp, Morgan seeks help at a local farm. He discovers that the farmer and his wife (Ida Lupino) have been feeding a mysterious substance to their chickens--which has caused the animals to grow to gigantic proportions.

Pamela Franklin in a bad hat.

After burying his friend on the mainland, Morgan returns to the island and learns that the substance has also been consumed by wasps and rats...causing them to grow dangerously large as well. A businessman (Ralph Meeker), whom the farmer had approached, wants to buy the rights to the growth substance. He and his associate (Pamela Franklin) soon find themselves trapped on the farm with Morgan, the farmer's wife, and three others as the giant rats strategize how to surround and devour the humans.

The Food of the Gods was one of several Man vs. Nature films produced during the 1970s. Other similar-themed movies include Frogs (1972), Grizzly (1976), and Day of the Animals (1977). It's to Bert Gordon's credit that The Food of the Gods might actually be the best of this bunch. Yes, the characters are two-dimensional, the dialogue sometimes silly, and--let's be honest--acting expectations are low when your leading man is Marjoe Gortner and your chief villain is a white rat.

On the plus side, The Food of the Gods moves quickly, takes advantage of its atmospheric location (Bowen Island in British Columbia), and boasts passable special effects. Plus, it features Pamela Franklin (The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, The Innocents) and I'd watch her in any movie. That said, it's hard to stomach the scenes where she flirts with Marjoe as they battle giant rodents.

Giant rats destroy an RV!

The Food of the Gods made $5 million at the box office, making it one of the forty highest-grossing films of the year. Bert Gordon followed it up with the wacky Empire of the Ants (1977), starring Joan Collins and Jacqueline Scott (one of our favorite interviewees). A belated sequel to Gods, titled Food of the Gods II or the slightly better Gnaw: Food of the Goods II, appeared in 1989. It bears no resemblance to the first film, other than a growth serum and giant rats.

Interestingly, Bert Gordon made an earlier, even looser adaptation of The Foods of the Gods in 1965. Called Village of the Giants, it stars a young Ron Howard as a boy genius who invents a "goo" that causes humans to grow to 30 feet in height. Several teenagers consume it and proceed to terrorize their town. It's sometimes listed as one of the worst films ever made--and I wouldn't argue with that. However, it's admittedly fun to watch because of the cast. In addition to Howard, it stars Beau Bridges, Tommy Kirk, Tisha Stirling, Johnny Crawford, Joy Harmon, and Ryan O'Neal's lookalike brother Kevin. The Beau Brummels are also on hand to perform a couple of songs.

CMBA Classic Movies of 1939 Blogathon: The Light That Failed

A great actor who understood his limitations, Ronald Colman must have realized in 1939 that his days as a romantic lead were numbered. At age 48, he had just completed an incredible decade in which he drew critical and popular acclaim for classics such as A Tale of Two Cities (1935), Lost Horizon, and The Prisoner of Zenda (both 1937). He displayed his versatility by playing a swashbucker (Under Two Flags), a romantic poet (If I Were King), and a thinking man's hero (Sydney Carton in A Tale of Two Cities).

Although memorable roles still awaited--including a romance for the ages in Random Harvest and an Oscar for A Double Life--1939 marked a turning point in Colman's career. He made fewer films in the 1940s and appeared content to let other actors assume the mantle of romantic hero. What better way to make such a transition than as the melancholy artist hero of Rudyard Kipling's first novel The Light That Failed?

William Wellman's film version begins in England in 1865 with a sweet prologue in which childhood sweethearts Dick and Maisie decide to become artists when they grow up. When Dick learns of Maisie's pending departure, the two youngsters pledge to always love one another.

Years later, Dick (Colman) has become a war correspondent in the Sudan, drawing battle scenes for the newspapers back in England. He suffers a serious head injury when he saves the life of his friend, Torpenhow (Walter Huston). Months later, he learns from "Torp" that his drawings have garnered critical acclaim back home. Upon his return to England, Dick becomes a popular artist whose paintings of British soldiers in the Sudan fetch a handsome price.

While walking one Sunday afternoon, Dick encounters Maisie, who is struggling to achieve any kind of success as an artist. They gegin to meet weekly to discuss art and Dick quickly realizes he has never stopped loving her. However, when he expresses his feelings to Maisie, she decides to leave for Paris. Although she values their friendship (and his artistic advice), she is dedicated to her artistic career.

At the same time, Dick loses his zest for painting, sometimes altering his original artistic vision simply to make his work more commercially viable. He becomes interested in painting again when he meets Bessie, a barmaid romantically involved with Torp. With Bessie as his model, Dick begins to paint again, though his work still lacks passion. It's only when he learns of an impending tragedy that he is able to channel his loneliness--and grief over losing Maisie--into his artistic masterpiece.

Dick cradling Binky in his arms.

Though always interesting, The Light That Failed is a flawed film that works best as a portrait of an artist. Dick's ability to interpret and capture the emotions of others through his art contrasts sharply with his struggles to maintain his own relationships. Torp is his only close friend if one excludes the loyal Scottish Terrier, Mr. Binkles (aka Binky), that adopts him. Maisie values him as a friend and critic, but his love for her seems to be based on a memory of when they were young (he even mumbles her name while recovering from his head injury...long before meeting her again as an adult). As for Bessie, he calls her a "little piece of nothing" at one point, then tries to buy her help later when he needs it. The role is ideal for Colman, who doesn't hesitate to show Dick's cruel side, especially when he berates Bessie and destroys any chance of her having a long-term relationship (albiet slight) with Torp. But he also shows Dick's unselfishness, such as when he poignantly lets Maisie and Torp "off the hook" by sending them away when he needs them the most.

Ida Lupino as Bessie.

Walter Huston and Ida Lupino, as Bessie, deliver strong supporting roles in what is essentially a four-character play. Allegedly, Colman wanted Vivien Leigh to play Bessie, but it's hard to imagine anyone other than Lupino. She captures both the vulnerability and pettiness of the street-living Bessie. The one weak link, in terms of both performer and character, is Muriel Angelus as Maise. Her character's only endearing quality is her love for her art. She begs Dick for constructive criticism of her paintings, but then has trouble accepting it. When Dick needs her the most--and then offers her a way out--she takes it. There's no obvious selfishness to her actions; it's just that her total focus is on her work and that blinds her to the needs of others.

Director William Wellman once said: "The best director is the director whose handprints are not on the film." Indeed, Wellman always adapted his visual style to fit his films. In this case, The Light That Failed comes across as a rather stagy affair, with many scenes taking place in Dick's apartment/studio. That approach is certainly consistent with Dick's introspection, but leaves the viewer with the impression of having watched a stage play. Still, it works well in some scenes, such as when Dick receives bad news in a doctor's office, with a clock ticking loudly in the background, reminding Dick (and us) that time has already started running out.

Kipling's novel The Light That Failed was published in 1890 in installments in Lippincott's Monthly Magazine. It provides more backstory to Dick's character, tracing his upbringing as an orphan (which explains why making money on his paintings is important to him). The novel was filmed previously in 1916 and 1923.

The 1939 Colman version isn't a great film, but it's a very good one that provides an ideal opportunity to watch a wonderful actor in a juicy role. Yet, while The Light That Failed, as a whole, almost achieves classic status, it falls just short. Its flaws are encapsulated in the closing scene. On the surface, it's a moving display of gallantry and freedom. However, as one ponders the ending, it's also a depressing testament to one who has given up on life.


Click here to check out the the awesome reviews written by my fellow CMBA members as part of the Classic Movies of 1939 Blogathon!

Underrated Performer of the Month: Ida Lupino

It's unfair perhaps to recognize Ida Lupino as the Cafe's Underrated Performer of the Month for January. She was indeed underrated as an actress, even by her own standards (having once referred to herself as a "poor man's Bette Davis"). But Ms. Lupino was more than just an actress. During the late 1940s and 1950s--when Hollywood film production was dominated by men--she carved out a successful career as a producer, screenwriter, and director.

She was born in London in 1918 to parents who both worked in show business. Ida landed her first film role when her mother, Emerald, auditioned for a Lolita-type role for 1933's Her First Affaire. Her mother didn't get the part, but director Allan Dwan was impressed with Ida and signed her for the role. She worked steadily in Britain and the U.S. throughout the rest of the 1930s, appearing in films such as The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes with Basil Rathbone and The Lone Wolf Spy Hunt (an amusing turn in the best of Warren William's Lone Wolf  film series).

Lupino with Cornel Wilde
in Road House.

Ida Lupino landed her biggest role to date in 1939's The Light That Failed, a touching adapatation of a Rudyard Kipling novel about an artist (Ronald Colman) losing his eyesight. As a hard-bitten Cockney girl, Lupin earned raved notices and became a star at Warner Bros. She subsequently starred in classics such as They Drive By Night, High Sierra, and Devotion.

By 1947, Lupino found it harder to get good roles. She left Warner Bros. and co-wrote the screenplay for a B-film called Not Wanted (1949), a somewhat controversial (for the time) tale of an unwed mother. When director Elmer Clifton fell ill during the shooting, Lupino took over the directing chores.

She continued directing independent films in the 1950s, to include: Outrage (1950); Hard, Fast and Beautiful (1951) starring Claire Trevor; The Bigamist (1953) in which she co-starred with Joan Fontaine; and The Hitch-Hiker (1953), a taut little thriller that's generally considered her best film. Starting in 1956, she beginning working as a director in television, where she helmed episodes for dozens of TV series such as The Fugitive, Thriller, Dr. Kildare, Twilight Zone, Bewitched, The Virginian, and Have Gun Will Travel. She also formed a television production company, Four Star Productions, with Dick Powell, David Niven, and Charles Boyer.

She still appeared occasionally in films and on television. New York Times film critic Vincent Canby singled out for her fine supporting performance in the 1972 Steve McQueen Junior Bonner.

Ida Lupino was married three times: to actor Louis Hayward (1938-45), producer Collier Young (1948-51), and actor Howard Duff (1951-84). She died of a stroke in 1995 at age 77. Classic movie fans may remember her best for her acting, but her greatest contribution to the industry was as a pioneering female filmmaker. She was just the second woman to be inducted in the Director's Guild of America (following Dorothy Arzner).

Beware, My Lovely - Something A Little Different

Beware, My Lovely is not a typical film noir. It does not take place in the underworld of Chicago or the back streets of New York. It is not set in modern time, nor does it involve crime bosses or femme fatale molls. Yet, it is as the genre name indicates, a dark movie, tense and disturbing, about a crime already committed and potential crime yet to come. The setting is a small American town in the year 1918. It is Christmas time in a lovely tree-lined neighborhood where children are laughing and playing and the sun is shining.

The film opens in the kitchen of a big-city apartment, where handyman Howard Wilton (Robert Ryan) discovers the dead body of the lady he has been working for. Howard looks at the body, shocked and confused. We know he does not know what to do, and in his fear he flees the building. The next scene opens in the small town described above, in the home of a World War I widow Helen Gordon (Ida Lupino). Helen is cleaning and preparing her house for Christmas. She is also saying goodbye to Walter (Taylor Holmes), her longtime boarder who is moving away. Helen’s niece Ruth (Barbara Whiting), a particularly sullen and malicious adolescent, is being punished by her mother, who has ordered her to help Aunt Helen with her cleaning. Some of Helen’s little piano pupils drop by, and Helen’s little dog is happily romping around with all the company.

Amidst all of this pleasant bustle, Howard enters. He seems intensely shy and unsure of himself, quiet and gentle. He is looking for work, and Helen decides to hire him for the day to help with the cleaning. Soon Walter is moved out, the children are gone home, Ruth has been released from her punishment, and the dog is outside. Helen is alone with Howard, and so begins a day of terror for her. Howard is mentally unstable, at once menacing and pitiful, sharp and alert one moment, confused and forgetful the next. Helen comes to realize that she is trapped in the house with him, and as she comes to understand the danger she is in, her fear and vulnerability increase with every moment.

Each scene of Beware, My Lovely builds upon the next like the little Russian doll that opens to reveal another smaller doll, than another, until the core is revealed. Screenwriter Mel Dinelli did a wonderful job with this subtly terrifying story. (Dinelli also wrote the screenplay for another of my favorite suspense thrillers, The Spiral Staircase.) There is little more I am willing to reveal about the film because the very nature of it depends upon the unknown. Suffice it to say that this is not a typical story with a typical ending.

Beware, My Lovely began as a stage play and then a radio play in 1945 on the popular Suspense program, starring Agnes Moorhead and Frank Sinatra in his radio drama debut.  Ida Lupino and her husband produced the movie in 1952. Lupino was one of the first women to begin her career as a beautiful starlet and go on to work behind the camera to produce and direct movies. Director Harry Horner did his usual wonderful job (he also directed one of my favorite movies, The Heiress). The cast was solid, including long-time character actor Taylor Holmes and young Barbara Whiting, the sister of famed singer Margaret Whiting and the daughter of Robert Whiting, a prolific songwriter whose compositions included “Hooray for Hollywood” and “On the Good Ship Lollipop”.  The art direction was done by the wonderful Albert D’Asgostino, who was also responsible for art direction in The Magnificent Ambersons. Mention must be made of the costume designer, Michael Woulfe. Lupino’s costume with the long hobble skirt popular in 1918 gives her an even greater look of trapped inability to save herself.  Ryan’s clothing, including an oddly short tie, is rather dorky and sad, like a man who does not know how to dress himself.

With all these winning elements, not to mention the great performance by Lupino, the fact is that Beware, My Lovely is Robert Ryan’s movie. Audiences accustomed to seeing Ryan as intensely masculine, tall and dominant, saw him in this movie as a sad, tired, mentally ill man. He is indeed menacing, but at the next moment unable to remember what had happened and afraid of his confusion. He terrorizes this woman, and at the same time has gentle feelings for her. His character cannot be pigeon-holed into good guy/bad guy, and Ryan masterfully creates this disturbing presence.

Beware, My Lovely belongs in the film noir genre despite its uncharacteristic elements, maybe even because of the peculiarity of mental volatility and disturbing undercurrents that darken the sunniest day.

(ADDENDUM)  A fellow CMBA member, RDF, wrote to remind me that Harry Horner did indeed work on The Heiress in art direction, but not as director.  I appreciate RDF's sharp eye, and  I'm glad to  have this opportunity to keep my facts straight!