Marathon Man: "Is it safe?"

Memory is a funny thing. Prior to a recent viewing of Marathon Man, the only things I could remember about this 1976 thriller were the unnerving tooth-drilling scene and Roy Scheider doing push-ups with his feet on the bed and hands on the floor.

Although it's an atypical John Schlesinger film, the opening sequence showcases the director at his best. An elderly German man removes a metal band-aid box from a safety deposit box and slips it discreetly to another man. As he drives away in his Mercedes, the German has a run-in with a Jewish man that escalates quickly from a shouting match to a dangerous car chase along the narrow confines of New York city streets. The conflict ends when the two men crash their cars into a fuel truck--the safety deposit key falling to the asphalt as flames engulf it.

Hoffman as the graduate...student.

The importance of this scene doesn't become apparent until later as the plot shifts to Thomas Babington "Babe" Levy (Dustin Hoffman). Babe is a graduate student at Columbia University whose dissertation has the uninviting title of "The Use of Tyranny in American Political Life." Babe still keeps the gun that his father, a famous academic accused of Communist sympathies, used to commit suicide. It's an odd thing to do, but then Babe is a social misfit with no friends other than his frequently absent brother Doc (Roy Scheider).

Hence, it seems a bit odd when a pretty Swiss student (Marthe Keller) responds to Babe's awkward advances. When Doc--the sharp-dressed opposite of his brother--meets Babe's girlfriend, he immediately spots a fraud. But then, nothing is as it seems in Marathon Man and that includes Doc, too.

The most interesting aspect of Marathon Man is that Hoffman seems to be playing an older version of Ben Braddock from The Graduate (1967). Perhaps, this is what happened to Ben when things didn't work out with Elaine after their escape on the bus! (I never expected the couple to find true happiness, did you?) And, of course, the obvious irony is that Hoffman is a playing a graduate in one film and a grad student in the other.

Laurence Olivier as the villain.

As for Marathon Man, after a quick start (the car chase), it lumbers along until Scheider and Laurence Olivier show up. The latter earned a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination as a Nazi war criminal who is forced to come out of seclusion to secure his investment in diamonds. I don't think the role was a difficult one for Olivier, but somehow he manages to exude pure evil as he interrogates Babe by repeating the single line: "Is it safe?" In fact, that line ranked #70 on the American Film Institute's 100 Years...100 Quotes.

Roy Scheider, one of the 1970s most reliable leading men, excelled in playing edgy roles (The French Connection, Sorcerer, All That Jazz). He makes Doc the film's most interesting character--a sleek professional who is willing to help war criminals for the right price, but also an affectionate brother to the socially-challenged Babe.

The well-dressed Scheider.

Scheider and Olivier make Marathon Man easy to watch, though I wish both of them had more screen time. Frankly, Hoffman's protagonist is pretty boring. Director Schlesinger compensates somewhat by capturing the pulse of New York City, giving the film a much-needed vibrancy. He also book-ends the film with two fine scenes: the aforementioned chase and a sequence in which a concentration camp survivor recognizes Olivier's villain and follows him on the city's busy streets, shouting out his name.

I rarely mention continuity gaffes in movies because...well...anyone can make a mistake. However, I was amused by Babe's changing footwear during his kidnap scene. He appears to be barefoot when initially nabbed. Later, I could swear he's wearing socks. Finally, when he escapes and is running away from the baddies, he sports shoes on his feet. Maybe I just missed the scene where he finds his shoes. Or maybe he's just not as tough as some of those Olympic athletes that run in their bare feet.

MGM's Pride and Prejudice (1940)

Greer Garson and Laurence Oliver.

After viewing MGM's 1940 adaptation of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, comparisons with the BBC's popular 1995 miniseries are inevitable. That's not altogether fair to the 1940 version which is much shorter than the later miniseries (two hours vs. six hours). However, the simple fact remains that MGM's Pride and Prejudice is now regarded as a very good film while the BBC version instantly became a pop culture phenomenon that still boasts a loyal following.

Garson as Elizabeth.

For those unfamiliar with Austen's 1813 classic, the plot centers around the relationship between the wealthy, snobby Mr. Darcy and the headstrong Elizabeth Bennett. She comes from a modest family (though they still have a butler) headed by the sensible Mr. Bennett. Unfortunately, Mr. Bennett does not have a male heir, meaning that the family's home will go to a clergyman named Mr. Collins upon Mr. Bennett's death. Thus, Mrs. Bennett is focused on getting her five daughters married off to gentlemen with ample financial means.

Elizabeth overhears Darcy.

To his surprise, Darcy (Laurence Olivier) finds himself attracted to the witty, elegant Elizabeth (Greer Garson) at a country ball. Yet, that doesn't dissuade him from expressing his contempt for other members of the Bennett family to a close friend--a conversation that Elizabeth overhears. As a result, Elizabeth rebuffs Darcy's invitation to dance, even though she is also interested in him. Thus begins a series of advances and retreats in the slowly-developing romance between the two.

For me, the joy of Austen's novel (and all its adaptations) is watching the feelings of Elizabeth and Darcy evolve as the plot progresses. Elizabeth knows that Darcy's assessment of her family is mostly accurate. Her mother is overwrought and obvious in her marital intentions for her daughters. Sister Mary insists on singing in public despite being tone deaf. Younger sisters Lydia and Kitty are just plain silly, chasing after army officers and getting tipsy at parties. And yet, it's one thing to acknowledge the shortfalls of one's family and another to watch as a third party scoffs at them. For his part, once he realizes that he loves Elizabeth, Darcy sets out to prove his worthiness to her--even though she has made it clear that she could never love him.

Olivier as Mr. Darcy.

Greer Garson and Laurence Olivier fare well as Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, even though both are too old for the parts (Elizabeth is supposed to be 20 and Greer was then 36). It's impossible not to compare them with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth who played the couple in the BBC miniseries. Garson's performance brims with intelligence and charm, but its lacks the introspection that Ehle (born in my hometown of Winston-Salem, NC) brought to it. Likewise, Olivier makes a memorable Darcy, but falls short of Firth in displaying his character's internal struggles (especially during my favorite scene--Darcy's first proposal to Elizabeth).

Melville Cooper as Mr. Collins.

In my opinion, acting honors in the MGM film go to the always reliable Edmund Gwenn as Elizabeth's father, Melville Cooper as the pretentious Mr. Collins (who constantly babbles about his "esteemed patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh"), and Frieda Inescort as the haughty Ms. Bingley.

Acclaimed British noveliest Aldous Huxley (Brave New World) co-wrote the screenplay. However, credit for the excellent abridgment of Austen's novel probably belongs to Helen Jerome. Her 1935 Broadway play served as the basis for the MGM film. Incidentally, that stage play starred British actress Adrianne Allen as Elizabeth. Ms. Allen was then married to Raymond Massey.

A recent viewing of the 1940 film reminded me, though, how much of the dialogue was penned by Jane Austen. It's the author and her vivid characters, lively dialogue, and understanding of human nature that makes Pride and Prejudice a true classic. Cast it with good actors and I don't think one could go wrong--whether it's this version, the BBC one, or the 2005 adaptation with Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen.

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).

Bunny Lake Is Missing...or is she?

Unable to find a teacher at The Little People’s Garden school, Annie Lake (Carol Lynley) asks the cook to watch over her four-year daughter Bunny. Annie explains that Bunny’s in the “First Day” room awaiting her teacher. Annie, an American recently moved to London, then rushes to her new home to meet the movers.

Olivier as Inspector Newhouse.

When Annie returns to the school, she can’t find Bunny—and no one remembers the little girl. After Annie and her brother Steven (Keir Dulla) search the grounds to no avail, they contact the police. Inspector Newhouse (Laurence Olivier) follows the routine protocol for finding missing children—but he soon realizes nothing is routine about the case. Most distressingly, he learns that, except for Annie and Steven, no one has seen Bunny. All of Bunny’s belongings are missing. There are no photographs of her. There is no proof that the little girl actually exists.

Lynley and Keir Dullea as Steven.

Director Otto Preminger’s last great film surprisingly recalls his first classic, Laura. Both films begin as conventional crime dramas dealing with kidnapping or murder. But an unexpected plot twist takes each film in a different direction. In Laura, the twist hits quickly and unexpectedly. In Bunny Lake Is Missing, it unravels slowly throughout the film. Watch the movie carefully (it warrants a second viewing after you know the plot) and you’ll see that really there’s no twist at all. Granted, Preminger is selective about what he shows the viewer, but he still plays fair.

Noel Coward and companion as a

too-friendly neighbor.

Much of the film’s effect can be attributed to the unusual suspects in Bunny’s alleged kidnapping or murder. There’s the creepy neighbor (Noel Coward), a middle-aged lecher who hits on Annie as she frets over her missing child. There’s the old lady in the apartment over the school who tapes children describing their nightmares. And finally, there are Annie and Steven, whose extremely close relationship seems more like a married couple than sister and brother.

Carol Lynley gaves a carefully nuanced performance, making us believe that she could be psychologically unbalanced or just distraught over the fate of her daughter. Keir Dullea brings a nice ambiguity to the brother, making it unclear whether he’s defending his sister or setting her up. That leaves it to Olivier to ground the film in normalcy and he does a fine job by making Inspector Newhouse a workman-like professional willing to consider all possibilities.

As with most Preminger films, the production values are flawless. Paul Glass’s evocative music score seamlessly transitions from playful to disturbing. And Saul Bass contributes another memorable title sequence with a hand tearing away black paper to reveal the film’s credits pieces by piece.

Was there a better title designer than Saul Bass?

I first saw Bunny Lake Is Missing on TV with my sister. Neither of us had heard of it and we were mesmerized from start to finish. I have subsequently watched it with my wife, nephews, and friends. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t find it intriguing, which makes me wonder why it’s never acquired a better reputation.

Dial H for Hitchcock: Rebecca

Welcome to Dial H for Hitchcock, a monthly online gathering where we discuss the work of "the Master" (of suspense and quite a bit more). Alfred Hitchcock's first American film, Rebecca (1940), is the featured film this month.

By the late 1930's, Hitchcock's reputation was riding high based on several suspense films he'd made in Britain. He came to Hollywood under contract to producer David O. Selznick. Selznick intended Rebecca to rival his previous film, the award-laden Gone With the Wind (1939). The two men had a contentious collaboration on Rebecca but ultimately produced a critical and commercial success that was nominated for 11 Academy Awards. It won two: Best Picture and Best B&W Cinematography.

Rebecca is a favorite of mine, and here are a few reasons why...

A strong sense of atmosphere that underscores the story's gothic quality and mood of vague but insistent foreboding. Manderley, where much of the action occurs, conveys a cavernous and chilly ambiance of inhospitable elegance.

Multi-layered characters, evocative performances. Joan Fontaine is palpably anxious and apprehensive as the second Mrs. de Winter. She doesn't miss a beat and, late in the film, smoothly portrays the young woman's transition as she gains poise and confidence. Laurence Olivier's Maxim de Winter is guilt-riddled, highly strung and volatile...with aristocratic charm. Judith Anderson creates one of Hitchcock's and the screen's great villains as the unbalanced and eventually dangerous Mrs. Danvers. George Sanders as Jack Favell and Florence Bates as Mrs. Van Hopper both play unsavory types, but with comic overtones. Favell is an oily bounder, but a witty one. Van Hopper is insufferably demanding and grandiose - and more than slightly ridiculous.

A final note...Hitchcock reportedly edited "in camera" to prevent Selznick from re-editing his work. Rebecca strikes me as classic Hitchcock with the Selznick treatment: top-notch cast, the finest writers and technicians - and a big budget that shows.

Those are some of my thoughts...but what do you think? What are your opinions, observations and comments...and, if you've read Daphne du Maurier's novel, how would you compare the film to the book?