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.

Working Girl and The Verdict

Melanie Griffith and Harrison Ford.

Working Girl (1988). Mike Nichol's R-rated update of a familiar comedy formula, Working Girl earned six Oscar nominations, made a star (albeit briefly) of Melanie Griffith, and transformed Harrison Ford into a romantic lead. Griffith plays Tess McGill, a hard-working, ambitious young woman who thinks she has landed the perfect job when she becomes the personal assistant to business executive Katherine Parker (Sigourney Weaver). Katherine listens to Tess's ideas. It turns out that she also steals one of them, which Tess discovers while Katherine is in the hospital recovering from a skiing accident. Rather than confronting her boss, Tess passes herself off as one of Katherine's fellow executives. She uses her smarts to set up a big business deal, but will she be able to pull it off before Katherine discovers the charade? Kevin Wade's script offers no surprises, so Working Girl relies heavily on Griffith, Ford, and Weaver. Fortunately, they deliver whatever is required: Griffith's plucky heroine is vulnerable yet tough; Ford provides a charming romantic foil; and Weaver delivers a deliciously funny performance as the film's villain. Director Mike Nichols makes fine use of the New York City locations. However, his inclusion of three brief nude scenes (including two of Griffith) seems unwarranted in a film about female empowerment. Carly Simon's song "Let the River Run" earned Working Girl its only Oscar despite those six nominations. (Personally, I think a more deserving Carly Simon song was "Coming Around Again" from Mike Nichols' 1986 movie Heartburn.) 

Paul Newman as Frank Galvin.

The Verdict (1982). Paul Newman earned the seventh of his nine Best Actor Oscar nominations as Frank Galvin, an alcoholic, washed-up Boston lawyer. When a friend tosses a medical malpractice case his way, Galvin chooses not to settle it out of court. Instead, he ignores his clients' wishes and takes the case to trial. The reasons for his decision are unclear. Has Frank rediscovered his passion for law? Is he trying to prove to himself that he can still be a successful attorney? Is he solely concerned with justice for the comatose victim? David Mamet provides no clear answers. In his original draft of the screenplay, the verdict was never even revealed (the movie does include it). While I admire Mamet's intent, I find the The Verdict to be ambitious without being fully successful. There's a twist involving Charlotte Rampling's character that's obvious from the moment she is introduced. James Mason, a fine actor, struggles to find any nuance in his high-powered defense attorney who will do anything to win. On the plus side, Paul Newman breathes life into Galvin and convinces the audience to root for this self-pitying attorney--who may or may not have found his self-respect at the film's conclusion. I know many fans of The Verdict and I encourage them to make their case in the comments below or on Twitter (I'm @classic_film). I have made my final summation.

The Deadly Affair and Harper

James Mason as Charles Dobbs.

The Deadly Affair (1967). James Mason stars as Charles Dobbs--a renamed George Smiley--in Sidney Lumet's moderately successful adaptation of John Le Carre's novel Call for the Dead. The plot is more mystery than espionage as Dobbs tries to discover whether a diplomat (recently cleared of spying) committed suicide or was murdered. While the authorities are content with an explanation of suicide, Dobbs can't rationalize why the dead man requested a wake-up call the night of his death. Director Lumet creates a visually compelling tapestry filled with dark rainy days and shadowy characters. Mason makes a respectable Dobbs/Smiley, but Harry Andrews almost steals the film as a recently retired police detective concerned only with the facts (he falls asleep whenever Dobbs starts to speculate). Simone Signoret is also fabulous as the dead man's widow, a Holocaust survivor whose political allegiances are less murky than they appear. A subplot involving Dobbs' serially unfaithful wife Ann was added for the film. Interestingly, it foreshadows a critical plotline in Le Carre's later Smiley novel Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. You can currently stream The Deadly Affair on Rumble for free by clicking here.

Newman as Lew Harper.

Harper (1966).  George Smiley wasn't the only 1960s protagonist to undergo a name change en route from novel to film. Ross Macdonald's private eye Lew Archer became Lew Harper when Paul Newman agreed to star in an adaptation of the novel The Moving Target. Allegedly, Newman requested the name change because of his previous success in films with titles starting with "h" (e.g., The Hustler, Hud). Harper is a slick, star-infused mystery that finds the titular detective searching for a missing millionaire at the bequest of the man's bitter wife (Lauren Bacall). The case quickly turns into a kidnapping and pretty soon dead bodies start appearing. Newman is well-cast as the cynical, gum-chewing private eye intent on pursuing every possible lead. Screenwriter William Goldman provides Harper with an estranged wife (Janet Leigh), perhaps in an attempt to give Harper a backstory. It doesn't add much, though, as Lew Harper serves mainly to guide the audience through the labyrinthian plot. What elevates Harper are the splashy locales in and around sun-drenched Los Angeles and the star-packed supporting cast that includes Bacall, Leigh, Robert Wagner, Julie Harris, Shelley Winters, Pamela Tiffin, Arthur Hill, and Strother Martin. Newman reprised the role of Lew Harper in the inferior 1975 sequel The Drowning Pool. If you enjoy Harper, I recommend checking out James Garner's turn as Philip Marlowe in Marlowe (1969). You can currently stream Harper on Rumble for free by clicking here.

Disney's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea

Kirk Douglas as Ned Land.

It's a whale of a tale...I swear by my tattoo. Well, truth be told, I'm not a tattoo kind of guy, but Walt Disney's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea is still an impressive achievement 64 years after its original release. However, a recent viewing reminded me that it's more a movie for adults than children.

The plot, a fairly faithful adaptation of Jules Verne's 1870 novel, opens with the U.S. government launching a search for a "sea monster" that has been destroying warships. The expedition includes a famous French scholar, Professor Aronnax (Paul Lukas), his assistant (Peter Lorre), and a harpooner named Ned Land (Kirk Douglas). When their ship is attacked, the trio fall overboard and are later rescued by the "monster"--which turns out to be a technologically advanced submarine called the Nautilus.

Captain Nemo's submarine, the Nautilus.

The submarine's commander is Captain Nemo (James Mason), who has turned his back on mankind and retreated to a world beneath the oceans. Nemo is thrilled to discuss his discoveries with a fellow scientist, Aronnax, so he spares the lives of his three new passengers. Yet, as their undersea voyages continue, the professor gradually realizes that Nemo is consumed by revenge. Meanwhile, the restless Ned Land plots his escape--hopefully with some of the treasure stored aboard the Nautilus.

Cannibal tries to board the submarine.

With whole sequences that play like a documentary narrated by Paul Lukas and a running time just over two hours, one would expect 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea to be a leisurely affair. However, director Richard Fleischer spaces the three best action scenes with precision. Just as an underwater expedition starts to turn dull, Douglas and Lorre are attached by a shark. A quick visit to a seemingly deserted island gets enlivened by a tribe of cannibals chasing after Douglas. And, as Nemo's near-madness begins to take center stage, Fleischer inserts the film's showstopper: an attack by a giant squid amid a ferocious storm.

James Mason as Captain Nemo.

Douglas, Lukas, and Lorre acquit themselves capably, but the standout performance belongs to James Mason. He captures Nemo's excitement at discovering the wonders of the deep, but also the Captain's depression over the death of his family and his hatred toward the human race that he holds accountable.

Of course, one could argue that the true star of 20,000 Leagues is the Nautilus. From the submarine's exterior design to the observation cone in the captain's quarters, it presents one wonder after another. It should come as no surprise that the film won Oscars for Best Art Direction - Color and Best Special Effects.

The giant squid attack at sunset.

Part of the justification for the latter award was no doubt the famous squid battle. It was originally filmed at sunset, but then reshot because it lacked drama (and some of the wires were visible). Although the scene was believed to be lost, 16mm footage was later discovered and the sequence edited for a "special edition" DVD. It looks pretty good, although the sunset looks like a painted backdrop. The reality is that the storm added immeasurably to the suspense.

Watch it for the thrilling giant squid. Watch it for another fine James Mason performance. Or watch it for the impressive art direction. Whatever the reason, if you haven't watched 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea recently, it's probably time to see it again.

Screenwriters Tony Perkins and Stephen Sondheim Team Up for "The Last of Sheila"

The six suspects--and a key clue.

A Valentine to Agatha Christie's murder mysteries, The Last of Sheila may be best remembered for its off-screen stories. First, though, let's start with the product on the screen: an all-star whodunit set aboard a yacht cruising the Mediterranean. The yacht's owner, film producer Clinton Greene (James Coburn) is a widower, whose wife Sheila died in an apparent hit-and-run car accident.

Clinton's six guests include an actress (Raquel Welch), two talent agents (Dyan Cannon and Ian McShane), a screenwriter and his wife (Richard Benjamin and Joan Hackett), and a director (James Mason). Under the pretense of entertaining his guests, Clinton has devised "The Sheila Greene Memorial Gossip Game," a nightly event in which guests try to uncover a "pretend secret" about one of their fellow passengers. Clinton distributes the following six secrets at the start of the game: shoplifter, homosexual, informer, ex-con, little child molester, and alcoholic.

Joan Hackett and Richard Benjamin.

The "game" turns serious, though, when one of the group is discovered dead. The police rule it an accidental death and the cruise continues. However, it soon becomes apparent that a murderer is aboard the yacht--especially after another corpse is discovered.

Like the best mysteries, The Last of Sheila displays all its clues clearly for the viewer. And, while I may not be the most observant individual, even I noticed a discrepancy...but which actually turned out to be a critical clue. The film shares much in common with Dame Agatha's superior Death on the Nile, right down to the climatic "reveal" in which one character describes the killer's motive and methods. The only difference is that Hercule Poirot would have had all the suspects in the room, instead of just the murderer and the self-appointed detective.

Dyan Cannon as a talent agent.

Another difference between The Last of Sheila and a Hercule Poirot mystery is that Agatha Christie was much more gifted at creating memorable characters. Screenwriters Perkins and Sondheim based some of their characters on real-life people (e.g., Dyan Cannon's character was based on talent agent Sue Mengers). While film buffs may have fun trying to guess what character was based on whom, this "inside joke" doesn't make for great drama. Additionally, there's a shortage of likable characters; even the film's "hero" has a suspect past.

The idea for The Last of Sheila can be traced to party games devised by puzzle enthusiasts Perkins and Sondheim to amuse their friends. These games ranged from treasure hunts to a "murder game" devised by Sondheim. Herbert Ross, who knew Perkins and Sondheim, suggested that they write a murder mystery.

Raquel Welch as the actress Alice.

The original intent was to film aboard a real yacht in France. However, the production was plagued with problems ranging from bad weather to sea sickness to conflicts among the cast members. Eventually, it was completed in a studio aboard a yacht set. In regard to the on-set friction, James Mason famously said of Raquel Welch: " I have never met someone so badly behaved."

The Last of Sheila was a modest hit and earned generally favorable reviews. Tony Perkins and Stephen Sondheim collaborated on a couple of other scripts, but none of them made it to the screen. By the way, Sondheim did not compose the score for The Last of Sheila (Billy Goldenberg did). He didn't even write the closing song ("Friends" performed by Bette Midler).

The Five Best Portrayals of Dr. Watson

It's never easy to play the part of the trusted sidekick. So today, we show our appreciation for one of the most famous sidekicks in English literature: Sherlock Holme's associate, confident, and biographer Dr. John H. Watson. Below are our five picks for the best portrayals of Dr. Watson in film and television.

David Burke.

1. David Burke - His intelligent, analytical Watson appeared opposite Jeremy Brett's Baker Street sleuth in 13 episodes of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes TV series in the 1980s. This Watson often demonstrated his own powers of deduction--and was clearly pleased when Holmes confirmed his conclusions (and equally disappointed when that didn't occur). He also had an eye for the ladies, though his attentions were subtle and always gentlemanly. Burke's Watson may not have been Holmes' equal partner, but he was a highly valued associate worthy of Holmes' trust and reliance. It's a shame that Burke left the series to resume his stage career, but the actor wanted to spend more time with his family.

Andre Morell.

2. Andre Morell - Alas, Morell only portrayed John Watson once, alongside Peter Cushing's Holmes in Hammer's The Hound of the Baskervilles. Following in the footsteps of Nigel Bruce, Morell presented a very different Watson--an articulate man of action with a bright mind. Due to Conan Doyle's plotting in Hound, Watson occupied much of the screen time and Morell carried the load effortlessly. Interestingly, Morell's wife, the delightful Joan Greenwood, appeared in the Peter Cook-Dudley Moore parody version of The Hound of the Baskervilles in 1978.

Nigel Bruce.

3. Nigel Bruce - While this interpretation has little to do with the literary Dr. Watson, I've always enjoyed it very much. Nigel Bruce makes Watson a bumbler and provides the films' de facto comedy relief, but he's a charming, sincere character. It's essentially a variation on the same character that Bruce played in many films. Still, he and Rathbone made a marvelous pair--though one wonders why Holmes kept this Watson around.

Edward Hardwicke.

4. Edward Hardwicke - When David Burke left the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes TV series, he suggested that Edward Hardwicke (Cedric's son) replace him as Watson. Only two years Burke's senior, Hardwicke's Watson seemed much older in the role. He appeared less tolerant of Holmes' excesses, but also showed greater concern for his friend. In the episode "The Final Problem," we see the disappointment on Watson's face when he learns that Holmes confided only in his brother Mycroft after his apparent death at Reichenbach Falls. More than any other Holmes and Watson, this pair come across as genuine friends (which Brett and Hardwicke became in real life).

James Mason.

5. James Mason - There was some stiff competition for the final spot on our list and I seriously considered Donald Houston from A Study in Terror and Ben Kingsley as a very different Watson in the amusing Without a Clue. In the end, I opted for James Mason's steadfast Watson who appeared opposite Christopher Plummer's flamboyant Holmes in Murder By Decree. Mason was a spry 70 when he appeared as Watson. He imbued the role with a quiet intelligence and dignity.

Laurence Olivier, Gregory Peck, and "The Boys from Brazil"

When a young man learns of a secret meeting of Nazi war criminals in modern-day Paraguay, he contacts veteran Nazi hunter Ezra Lieberman (Laurence Olivier). Lieberman's response is less than enthusiastic: "It may be a blinding revelation to you that there are Nazis in Paraguay, but I assure you it's no news to me."

However, when a second phone call is abruptly cut off and the young man disappears, Lieberman's suspicions grow. Between the two phone calls and a package of photos from the assumed-dead man, the elderly Nazi hunter knows only this: Nazi "butcher" Dr. Josef Mengele (Gregory Peck) is at the center of a mysterious plot that requires ninety-four men, aged 65, to be murdered on or near the same date. All of the would-be victims are "minor authority figures" such as postmasters, tax collectors, etc. They are all married to women significantly younger than them.

Laurence Olivier as Lieberman and
Lilli Palmer as his sister.

When Lieberman and a colleague compare notes after visiting the homes of two of the widows, they uncover a striking oddity. Each family has only one child, a male, age 13 and with black hair--and the boys look and act alike.

The Boys from Brazil was based on the bestselling 1976 novel by Ira Levin, the acclaimed novelist/playwright who wrote Rosemary's Baby, The Stepford Wives, and Deathtrap. Although there are broad thematic connections between The Stepford Wives and The Boys from Brazil, the latter plays out as a straightforward mystery (i.e., what is Mengele up to?) before sharing its revelation en route to a suspenseful climax.

Peck as Josef Mengele.

The plot moves almost fast enough to disguise two major flaws. First, with very few resources at their disposal, Lieberman and his sister cull through a tremendous amount of data and somehow discover a handful of the assassination targets. Given the number of men globally who fit Mengele's criteria, it's an incredulous feat. Secondly, during the climax, Lieberman and Mengele arrive at the same home in Pennsylvanian Amish country--at the same time! It's a convenient coincidence, to say the least, but probably a necessary one if Lieberman and Mengele are going to have a showdown.

The casting of Hollywood greats Laurence Olivier and Gregory Peck delivers mixed results. As the Jewish Lieberman (based on the real-life Nazi hunter Simon Wiesenthal), Olivier creates an unlikely, effective hero: a sly, cranky, sometimes humorous old man steadfast in his pursuit of Nazi criminals despite dwindling resources and interest. It's a performance that earned Olivier an Oscar nomination for Best Actor.

In contrast, Gregory Peck struggles with portraying a larger-than-life villain. For an actor who was often masterful playing understated characters, he goes over the top in Mengele's big scenes, shouting dialogue emphatically and waving his arms like a fire-and-brimstone evangelist. His extremist villain seems incapable of masterminding a large-scale plot to "fulfill the destiny of the Aryan race." Interestingly, the real-life Josef Mengele allegedly died in South America shortly after the film's release.

James Mason co-stars as one of
Mengele's Nazi colleagues.

In addition to Olivier's Oscar nomination, composer Jerry Goldsmith also earned one for his score. His title theme brilliantly intersperses a grand, flowing waltz with an ominous melody. Thus, his soundtrack underscores the film's theme of potential evil lurking in the most common, unexpected places.

Levin's ingenious premise, Olivier's performance, and Goldsmith's score are three good reasons to watch The Boys from Brazil. Admittedly, it's hard to watch a talented actor like Peck struggle and it's equally difficult to overlook some of the coincidences that drive the plot. But, in the end--just as in The Boys from Brazil--the good (reasons to watch) triumphs over the bad (reasons not to watch).

The Man in Grey (1943)

First off, please don’t tell me I’ve misspelled “grey”—as this is a British film, so the title will be spelled in proper English.  Second, I am not surprised that you haven’t seen this—it’s rarely (if ever) shown on TCM and is unavailable on DVD in the USA. Lastly, you should find a way to see this, as it is so outrageously different from anything in early-1940s English-speaking cinema.

The Man in Grey (1943) is a Gainsborough Pictures melodrama starring James Mason as Lord Rohan (literally the man in grey) and Phyllis Calvert as Clarissa (AKA Lady Rohan).  Ah, but they weren’t the real stars of the film, as Margaret Lockwood got top billing playing one of the most deplorable characters of her career—Hesther Barbary!  Based on Lady Eleanor Smith’s 1942 novel of the same name, the film is set during Regency England (1811-1820) and tells the story of how a beautiful, ebullient woman has her life ruined by a callous husband and a calculating “best” friend.  Quite simply, if I didn’t know the story was written by an Englishwoman, I would have thought it was French!

How can I describe this without telling you everything—thus ruining it (sort of) if you ever see it for yourself?  Little known British director Leslie Arliss must have been given free reign to do whatever he liked with Margaret Kennedy and Doreen Montgomery’s adapted screenplay—that should tell you all you need to know: woman author + 2 woman screenwriters = wickedness gone wild (especially for 1943).  In addition, it’s a costume melodrama, so the wardrobe and sets are somewhat gothic, which gives the film an almost otherworldly feel. 

Calvert’s blonde Clarissa represents innocence and goodness; Lockwood’s brunette Hesther represents evil and sinfulness. They meet at Miss Patchett's school for young ladies, where Clarissa is beloved by all and Hesther is shunned by everyone but Clarissa. When they meet a gypsy fortune teller (Beatrice Varley) she sees bad things to come for the two girls.  Obviously foreshadowing and foreboding are necessary elements of any good melodrama, so this is no surprise.  What is a surprise is how these bad things happen and by whom. 

Eventually, Hesther runs off and elopes with a local soldier and Clarissa meets and marries the man in grey, Lord Rohan.  To say that he his less than doting would be an understatement.  When asked why he married her, Rohan says Clarissa was pretty, healthy and able to produce an heir. James Mason is beyond brooding as Rohan, and, I must say, every bit the S.O.B. He lives by his family crest, which reads “He who dishonors us dies.”  Hence, he enjoys duels.  He also enjoys bad women, so when Clarissa brings the recently widowed Hesther into their home he finds her to his liking.  Hesther’s been through some hard times and has turned into quite the opportunist since her school days.  She wants everything that Clarissa has and she has no qualms about getting what she wants. I can’t recall Lockwood ever playing such an out-and-out bitch.  She makes you hate Hesther—there is nothing, and I mean nothing, redeeming whatsoever about her. 

Yet, don’t feel too sorry for Clarissa. Once she produces a son (which she and we never see) Rohan lets her do whatever she likes as long as it doesn’t dishonor his name. Also, for some reason, she is completely oblivious to the fact that her husband and best friend are carrying on a torrid affair—though I doubt she would have cared anyway, but it would have made her less likely to trust Hesther’s advice in her own illicit affair. Yes, Clarissa must have been attracted to no-good men, because she falls for another rogue in Rokeby (Stewart Granger).  And, this sets up two very shocking events, both of which Hesther plays a crucial role.  I won’t say what happens, but you will be both repulsed and outraged. 

There are a few things that make this film standout (some good, some just bizarre).  The affair between Rohan and Hesther is brazenly presented for our eyes. One scene has her leaving Rohan’s bedroom in the middle of the night and creeping back to her own. Just so many amoral characters running about in 1943 England when the Brits are trying to win WWII just seems wrong, but this is the only good thing about the film.

Another thing that stood out for me was Clarissa’s slave boy Toby, played by Harry Scott.  Okay, please don’t get upset about what I’m about to say, but what the hell! If you have seen this, please explain to me whether Harry Scott was black or if he was a white child in blackface.  When I checked on IMBD he only had one film credit and there is no information listed about him.  I know it sounds strange, but every scene he was in I couldn’t take my eyes off him (and not because his performance was great because it surely was not), because I was so shocked.  They couldn’t find a black child somewhere in England to play this part?  The things I find fascinating!

Okay, so what’s the final assessment?  The Man in Grey is an average movie with an above-average cast.  The final ten minutes of the film are what makes it memorable. Once you see how far Hesther will go to get what she wants you will never forget it—nor what she gets in return for her loathsome behavior. If you are interested, email me and I will inform you where you can procure a viewing.

The Reckless Moment (1949)

Who knew a 1949 film starring James Mason and Joan Bennett would be so obscure? It took me years to finally see this, and this would not have happened if TCM hadn’t finally premiered it this past January.  TCM has been on the air for almost thirty years, you would think The Reckless Moment might have found its way to the airwaves before now.  Yet, sometimes there are reasons a film doesn’t show up on TCM very often: it’s not popular, contract rights, lost prints, etc. Or, in the case of this film, it’s just not that good and not many people are clamoring to see it.  I suppose if the 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die book hadn’t listed it in its first edition many people wouldn’t have requested that TCM show it.  Ah, so much anticipation but so much disappointment—it reminds me of my first (and only) encounter with caviar.  For years I’d seen rich people on TV and in movies praise the glory of this delicacy, so imagine my disappointment when I tasted what amounted to salty Pop Rocks (without the sugar) in my mouth at a college luncheon.  How can you tactfully spit out such swill when you are surrounded by inquisitive academics who have a really bad habit of invading your personal space?  Perhaps my experience with The Reckless Moment wasn’t as bad as the one with caviar, but it was such a letdown.
The great Max Ophuls only directed four Hollywood films: The Exile (1947), Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948), Caught (1949), and this less than stellar endeavor. Of the four, only Letter from an Unknown Woman showcases his true brilliance. Many critics would disagree with my assessment of The Reckless Moment, as one has went so far as to call it a masterpiece on par with Ophuls’ French marvels The Earrings of Madame de…(1953), Lola Montes (1955), and La Ronde (1950). I can’t bring myself to say this for many reasons—the most important being I can’t decide what type of film it is.  Is it a film noir or a melodrama?  Personally, it feels like a combination of both, and I don’t like to mix oil and water together. 
Joan Bennett plays Lucia Harper, mother of two and fixer of all.  When her incessantly annoying teenage daughter Bea (Geraldine Brooks) gets involved with an unsavory older man named Darby (Shepperd Strudwick), she pays the man a visit and threatens him.  After an unfortunate accident involving her daughter, in which Darby falls from the Harper’s pier and unto an anchor, Lucia must drag the body out to sea and dispose of it.  Not long after this unusual chore, a very calm Irish thug named Martin Donnelly (James Mason) shows up and demands $5,000 for some letters Bea wrote to Darby.
Donnelly’s interactions with the entire Harper family can only be described as bizarre.  I think this is what I most dislike about the film.  There are few would-be movie gangsters that I recall being polite and friendly to those from whom they are extorting money.  He gives horseracing tips to the father-in-law (Henry O’Neill) and helps Lucia’s son (David Bair) fix something on his car.  Oh, and then there is his quick infatuation with Lucia herself. Mind you, an infatuation he knows can’t go anywhere since she thinks he’s scum.  Perhaps it was the short running time (a brisk 82 minutes) or the Hollywood constraints Ophuls found himself working under, but I couldn’t believe the sacrifices that Donnelly makes for Lucia.  While unfulfilled love is a consistent Ophuls’ theme, it does not work here.
The acting is not the issue, as both Mason and Bennett give good performances. He is quietly menacing and she is confidently controlled.  Mason comes off as his usually does—as though he isn’t trying.  To me, Bennett’s character is the more interesting of the two.  No matter what comes her way, Lucia always seems to steady herself and continue on with a cigarette in one hand and a plan in the other.  Thrown into a world so unlike her own she never seems to change—it’s perfectly natural that a blackmailer is in her living room and that her father-in-law wants to invite him to dinner. Perhaps if Ophuls had had more time to develop the story, or if the writers had written a better adaptation of Elizabeth Sanxay Holding’s “The Blank Wall”, Bennett’s strange performance could have saved this picture.  Who knows?
One thing, on a sort of side note, that we do know is that Bennett would personally find herself in a somewhat similar situation in 1951 when her husband, Walter Wanger (who produced this film), shot Bennett’s agent, Jennings Lang, because he was having an affair with Bennett.  Wanger’s sensational attempted-murder trial rocked Hollywood. Wanger pleaded temporary insanity (the crime of passion defense) and served four months.  Oddly enough, Bennett and Wanger remained married until 1965.  It is said that the clandestine meetings between Bennett and Lang were an inspiration for Billy Wilder’s The Apartment (1960).  The event effectively ended Bennett’s film career, she would only make a handful of movies following the incident.

Dial H for Hitchcock: North by Northwest at the Rafael...free to the public

When I was a little girl, the only director whose name I was familiar with was Alfred Hitchcock. Though I didn't see any of his signature films of the era in a theater - Rear Window (1954), To Catch a Thief (1955), Vertigo (1958), North by Northwest (1959) - I must've seen the trailers, because I was well aware that he made exciting, colorful and glamorous movies.

Psycho (1960) was the first Hitchcock film I saw on the big screen, and it was a far cry from his elaborate VistaVision/Technicolor creations of the mid- to late 1950s. I saw Psycho second-run (I was finally old enough) at the local movie house, the Ritz Theater, with a friend who'd already seen it. Pal that she was, she nudged me just as Arbogast reached the staircase landing and a figure with a knife darted toward him...so, naturally, I shrieked long and loud ...

I was fortunate to be able to see Rear Window when it was re-released into theaters in 1984, but have seen most of Hitchcock's films on television. There's no question that his films come through powerfully on TV, but they were made to be seen on a theater screen.

This past July the Rafael Theater screened the silent version of Blackmail (1929). It was an incredible experience; the film exceeded my expectations in just about every way possible. I was surprised that it was so well-crafted and fluid and that it contained so many components that later became Hitchcock trademarks. Accompaniment by the Alloy Orchestra underscored the action and added dimension. And it was thrilling to be surrounded by an appreciative SRO audience.

Six weeks later, at noon on Sunday, September 5, the Rafael presented North by Northwest free to the public as part of its quarterly "Everybody's Classics" series. At 11:40 a.m. the line was long, but good seats were still to be had. By show time Theater 1 was packed and anticipation ran high.

Then Bernard Herrmann's pulsing score began and Saul Bass's title sequence of crisscrossing lines filled the screen. North by Northwest was upon us and in just a few exhilarating moments I was whisked into the adventure.

Possibly Hitchcock's quintessential thrill-ride, North by Northwest incorporates many familiar themes and plot elements - an innocent man accused, a romance complicated by mistrust and betrayal, a double chase - the police after the innocent man and the innocent man after the true villain(s), a backdrop of international espionage...

North by Northwest has been linked to two of Hitchcock's earlier classics, The 39 Steps (1935) and Notorious (1946), but by 1959 the director, at the height of his powers, was in a position to control just about every aspect of his films, much more so than he had been 10 and 20+ years earlier.

He was able to get his favorite actor/star, Cary Grant, for the lead. And though he was unsuccessful in enticing Princess Grace back to the screen as his leading lady, he transformed Academy Award-winning method actress Eva Marie Saint into a stunning and complex femme fatale. James Mason, Martin Landau, Leo G. Carroll and Jessie Royce Landis rounded out his first-rate cast.

Bernard Herrmann, who by now had worked with Hitchcock on several films, was just completing the score for the pilot of "The Twilight Zone" when he began work on North by Northwest. Ernest Lehman wrote a sophisticated and witty script for which he earned an Oscar nomination. Oscar winning cinematographer Robert Burks, production designer Robert F. Boyle (also Oscar-nominated for this film) and others with whom Hitchcock had worked over the years joined the collaboration.

All of these ingredients plus glorious VistaVision and Technicolor added up to create one of Hitchcock's most successful films.

I've seen North by Northwest countless times. I felt like I knew the film well, but to finally see it on a movie screen was to see it with new eyes.

Cary Grant's starpower was almost overpowering - his screen persona was that commanding. What grace, what aplomb! It's not surprising that Bernard Herrmann adjusted his score to match what he described as Grant's "Astaire-like agility."

As for special effects, the crop-dusting set piece with its truck-explosion finale and the moonlit chase across the face of Mount Rushmore have long been legendary. Via the big screen I could almost feel the heat of the explosion and smell the night air of South Dakota. As I watched, I was reminded of how the crop-dusting sequence was echoed in early James Bond films...and of Steven Spielberg's homage in Close Encounters (1977) when he nearly replicated the set design of Hitchcock's night-time Black Hills.

Of course, the suspense seemed magnified, but I also noticed the film's humor seemed more overt and the seduction scenes between Grant and Saint more intimate and...erotic. The film was so precisely paced, with suspense building, then relieved with either humor or romance, then building again...

Afterward, I couldn't help wishing I'd been able to see North by Northwest back in 1959 at the Ritz. The young girl I was then would've thought she'd been on the greatest rollercoaster ride of her life!

Alfred Hitchcock has been widely acknowledged for his amazing ability to, with the artful use of various techniques, easily maneuver an audience's emotions and point of view. It's hard to maintain much distance from Hitchcock's best films. This could be why I often enjoy experiencing his films a bit more than I enjoy understanding them.

As with all Hitchcock films, North by Northwest has a a thing or two going on beneath its glossy surface. But on that Labor Day weekend in San Rafael inside a darkened theater full of laughing, sighing, cheering people, I was a kid again for a while. Happily immersed in a suspenseful, clever, sexy adventure, I didn't even notice that, from the first note of Herrmann's score to the final shot of a darkened railroad tunnel, we were all being swept along as if aboard a sleek 20th Century Limited under the command of a brilliant and crafty locomotive engineer.