Showing posts with label joan greenwood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joan greenwood. Show all posts

Monday, October 4, 2021

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). 

Thursday, August 29, 2013

John Mills, Jane Greer, and Richard Basehart: It's Triple Feature Time at the Cafe!

Jim--haunted by memories of the tragedy.
The October Man (1947). A bus accident on a dark, rainy night leaves Jim Ackland (John Mills) with a skull fracture--and the tragic memory of a friend's young daughter who died while under his care. After spending a year in a hospital, Jim emerges a fragile man who still battles suicidal thoughts. He resumes his work as an industrial chemist and takes a room in the nearby Broadhurst Common Hotel. He makes no friends at the hotel, but finds love with a co-worker's sister. But, just as his life begins to brighten, darkness falls again when he becomes implicated in the murder of a hotel resident.

The luminous Joan Greenwood.
Hitchcock might have crafted a classic suspense film had he adapted Eric Ambler's novel. However, in its current form, The October Man remains a tidy "B" movie with quality performances and atmospheric direction. John Mills is ideally cast in the lead, giving a nuanced performance as a man who finally gains a foothold in society, only to begin to doubt himself again. As his fiancee, Joan Greenwood--she of the marvelous voice--projects quiet strength and determination.

The October Man marked Roy Ward Baker's directorial debut. Baker, who befriended producer/writer Ambler during World War II, never gained acclaim as a director. Still, he had a solid career behind the camera with films such as A Night to Remember (about the Titanic) and Quatermass and the Pit, the best of Hammer's three Quatermass pictures.

There's nothing surprising about the outcome in The October Man. Indeed, in Hitchcock fashion, the killer's identity is revealed well before the climax. That works well enough, but the plot falters with how Ackland's innocence is ultimately confirmed. Still, The October Man is an intriguing, well-done effort worthy of a viewing.

The alluring Jane Greer.
The Falcon's Alibi (1946). The twelfth installment in the long-running Falcon "B" detective film series has one thing the previous installments didn't have: Jane Greer. In just her fifth movie, Ms. Greer plays Lola, a nightclub singer secretly married to a disc jockey called Nick the Night Owl (Elisha Cook, Jr.). Both Lola and Nick work in a hotel building that has been the site of several jewel robberies. Rita Corday (Joan Meredith) works as a secretary to one of the robbery victims. Fearing that she may be implicated in what turns out to be a jewelry scam, she enlists the aid of Tom Lawrence, aka The Falcon. And when has the handsome and suave Falcon ever passed on an opportunity to help out a pretty lady?

Tom Conway as The Falcon.
Of the three actors who played The Falcon--George Sanders, his brother Tom Conway, and John Calvert--my favorite is easily Conway. He approached the role with a light touch, yet never mocked these "B" mysteries. He also possessed a harder edge than his brother, implying that The Falcon could get his hands dirty if he wanted to--he just didn't desire to do so.

The Falcon's Alibi is a solid mystery, but lacks the sparkle of the series' best entries (e.g. The Falcon and the Co-eds). There's also too little of Jane Greer, who sizzles softly in every frame in which she appears. Finally, the picture stretches credibility: Really, Wilbur from The Maltese Falcon (a different bird altogether) married to Kathie from Out of the Past? I don't buy it!

The Extra Day (1956). Shortly after a film production wraps and its cast members go their separate ways, the film's final reel falls out of the back of a truck and goes rolling into the English countryside. Faced with a movie with no climatic scenes, the egotistical director sends production manager Joe Blake (Richard Basehart) to round up the extras so the footage can be reshot the next day. Over the next 14 hours, Joe rescues an elderly couple from an uncomfortable living arrangement, poses as a gangster to prevent an extra from being pummeled in a boxing match, and enlists groupies to kidnap a pop singer to prevent a marriage.

Colin Gordon and Richard Basehart.
This pleasant British comedy starts slowly, but steadily improves en route to its ironic ending. The appealing cast has much to do with the film's charm, especially Simone Simon as an actress romantically interested in one of the extras (George Baker) and Colin Gordon as the uncle of the extra about to be married. Gordon was a familiar face in British cinema and television in the 1950s and 1960s. His film credits range from The Man in the White Suit with Alec Guinness to The Pink Panther and Burn, Witch, Burn. On television, he appeared twice as Number Two in The Prisoner and also guest starred in UFO, Doctor Who, and The Baron.

Simone Simon--pretty in pink.
American audiences probably remember Simone Simon best as Irena in Val Lewton's Cat People and Curse of the Cat People. However, Simon spent most of her long career appearing in French films, to include Jean Renoir's 1938 classic La Bête Humaine (later remade by Fritz Lang as Human Desire). At age 46--but not looking it--Simon gives a bewitching performance in The Extra Day. She subsequently retired from acting, though she returned for one final role in the 1973 comedy-drama The Woman in Blue.