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.

Roy William Neill's "Black Angel"

Mavis is about to be murdered.

It's a shame that Roy William Neill never got to direct an "A" film during his tenure at Universal Pictures in the 1940s. I'd rate him as the studio's best low-budget director. His films typically had atmosphere and visual flair to spare. He is best remembered for Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943) and for helming eleven of the twelve "modern day" Sherlock Holmes pictures starring Basil Rathbone. His finest film may be the Holmes entry The Scarlet Claw (1944), but his last movie, the film noir Black Angel (1946), showed a visual stylist at the peak of his powers.

The film opens with an elaborate tracking shot up the side of a high-rise into the apartment of singer Mavis Marlowe (Constance Dowling). Mavis augments her income via blackmail, so it's not surprising when she winds up murdered. The police arrest Kirk Bennett (John Phillips), one of her blackmail victims who had recently ended an affair with Mavis. Despite his pleas of innocence, Kirk is found guilty of first-degree murder and sentenced to die.

A smiling Dan Duryea.

His wife Catherine (June Vincent) stands by Kirk throughout his ordeal. She never wavers in her belief that he is innocent. As Kirk awaits his execution, Catherine decides to conduct her own investigation. She enlists the aid of Mavis' ex-husband, Martin Blair (Dan Duryea), who reluctantly agrees to help. Catherine and Martin suspect the involvement of a nightclub owner named Marko (Peter Lorre). To collect more information on the mysterious Marko, Catherine and Martin go to work as a singing act at his club Rio's.

Catherine gets the safe combination from Marko.

The screenplay by Roy Chanslor was loosely adapted from Cornell Woolrich's 1943 novel Black Angel, which Woolrich expanded from an earlier short story called Murder in Wax. Chanslor's script actually adheres closer to the short story, which features a doozy of a twist. Both Chanslor and Woolrich have impressive writing pedigrees. Woolrich's literary works provided the plots for a number of memorable films, such as Rear Window, The Leopard Man, and The Window. Chanslor toiled mostly as a screenwriter of "B" movies, but two of his Western novels were adapted as Johnny Guitar (1954) and Cat Ballou (1965).

I'll avoid any plot spoilers here, but will note that Black Angel sports a clever twist, too. However, it may not come as a surprise for discerning viewers. The film provides a pretty good clue right from the outset. In retrospect, the twist negates a large portion of the movie, a tactic that you may find oft-putting. For me, the payoff was worth it.

Dan Duryea gets to play a sympathetic protagonist for once. He teams well with June Vincent, a good actress who spent most of her career working in television (she guest-starred on Perry Mason five times). Alas, the always enjoyable Peter Lorre has little to do as Marko.

Martin is smitten with Catherine.

Roy William Neill is the reason to see Black Angel. He often packs his scenes with information, such as when Martin and Catherine are dancing at Rio's so they can learn more about Marko. As Catherine watches Marko walking down the stairs, Martin turns his eyes to her--a brief look that lets us know he's falling for her. Neill also uses music creatively, starting with the song playing on the phonograph when Mavis' body is discovered. We later learn this song, "Heartbreak," was written by Martin for his ex-wife. Music comes into play again when Martin uses it as a cue to warn Catherine of impending doom as she breaks into Marko's wall safe.

Sadly, Roy William Neill died of a heart attack at age 59. Black Angel indicates that Universal was perhaps considering him for bigger movies. Instead, this interesting film noir represents his swan song.

Dorothy Lamour Is Bob Hope's "Favorite Brunette"

Confession: I sometimes get the plots of Bob Hope's three My Favorite... movies mixed up. While recently viewing My Favorite Brunette again, I kept waiting for the scene where the baddies give Bob truth serum--with predictably silly results. However, that classic bit is from My Favorite Spy with Hedy Lamarr. Well, to my defense, at least Hedy and Bob's Brunette co-star Dorothy Lamour both have dark hair--as opposed to leading lady Madeleine Carroll from My Favorite Blonde.

Bob Hope made the three My Favorite... films between 1942 and 1951, the peak period of his Paramount career. Technically, he played a different character in each film, though they all displayed the typical Hope persona. The series’ premise had Bob encountering mysterious women that got him involved in murder mysteries and spy intrigue. In My Favorite Blonde, he meets Madeleine Carroll (already a spy movie veteran after 1935’s The 39 Steps) on a train and winds up helping her elude Nazi agents. My Favorite Spy pairs him with the gorgeous Ms. Lamarr in a spy spoof with Bob as a comedian posing as a tough secret agent.

In My Favorite Brunette, Bob plays baby photographer Ronnie Jackson, who tells his story in flashback as he awaits the San Quentin gas chamber. As Ronnie explains in voiceover, he was ready for a career change and knew what it took to be a detective: "Brains, courage, and a gun. And I had the gun."

Tough-guy Hope and Lamour.

When the exotic Carlotta Montay (Lamour) mistakes Ronnie for out-of-town detective Sam McCloud (an unbilled Alan Ladd), the baby photographer plays along. He is soon involved in a plot with a kidnapped uncle, mineral rights, and plutonium. Of course, the story is really just an excuse for the zany situations and frequently funny Hope wisecracks (to Carlotta: "We're caught like two rats in a trap...at least, we're a boy rat and a girl rat."). And while this may not be the Hope comedy with the truth serum scene, it is the one with the "keyhole camera" and a classic routine in which Hope keeps overlooking a clue that bad guy Peter Lorre repeatedly places in front of him.

Hope feels Lon's muscles.

As was typical in Hope's Paramount comedies, the supporting players are first-rate, especially Lorre as a knife-throwing henchman. The most surprising performance, though, comes from Lon Chaney, Jr., who channels his Lenny (from Of Mice and Men) to charming comedic effect as Lorre's oafish partner.

My Favorite Brunette may not be a top-notch Hope vehicle along the lines of Son of Paleface or The Ghost Breakers, but it's a solid comedy that will keep a smile on your face for 87 minutes.

Lightness and Darkness: The Two Sides to Hitchcock's "Secret Agent"

Spoiler alert: This review reveals a key plot twist.

Made between the lighthearted The Thirty-Nine Steps (1935) and the dark Sabotage (1936), Secret Agent reflects elements of both. The combination is not always a successful one, but that doesn't keep Secret Agent from securing its place as an important work in the Hitchcock canon.

John Gielgud portrays an Army officer who agrees to undertake an important espionage mission during World War I. After a fake funeral, he is given a new identity as Richard Ashenden and is paired with a veteran agent simply known as The General (Peter Lorre). Their mission is to travel to Switzerland, uncover the identity of an enemy agent staying at the Excelsior Hotel, and ensure the spy does not reach Constantinople--even if it means murder.

John Gielgud and Madeleine Carroll.

Upon his arrival at the hotel, Ashenden discovers that he has a "wife." She turns out to be Elsa Carrington (Madeleine Carroll), another British agent with even less experience than him. Although part of her job is to enhance Ashenden's cover, Elsa has been flirting extensively with Robert Marvin (Robert Young), an American businessman. Unfortunately, she has failed to discover any information about the German spy's identity.

Ashenden and The General gain a valuable clue when they uncover a corpse in an Alpine church, the dead man's hand clutching a button apparently ripped from the murderer's clothes. That evening, Ashenden meets Mr. Caypor, a British tourist traveling with his mother and who is missing a familiar-looking button. Unable to confirm that Caypor is their man--but aware that he will soon leave Switzerland--Ashenden and the General murder him in the mountains. That evening, Ashenden receives a telegram that reads: "Your message is received. You are after the wrong man. Look elsewhere." Guilt stricken over having helped kill an innocent man, Ashenden also realizes he has failed in his mission.

Peter Lorre and Gielgud.

The first half of Secret Agent reflects the light tone of The Thirty-Nine Steps. After Ashenden's death is faked and he has received his mission, his superior asks: "You love your country?" "I just died for it," quips Ashenden. Likewise, the playful banter between Elsa and her two suitors--Marvin and later Ashenden--reflects the earlier film (which also starred Ms. Carroll). Even The General is portrayed as a slightly humorous character as the screenplay plays up his fondness for the opposite sex. But this good-natured approach is tossed out the window once Ashenden and The General murder Caypor.

Ashenden's view through the telescope.

The murder sequence is a Hitchcock tour-de-force. Ashenden accepts the role of accomplice, but cannot do the dirty deed himself so he watches through a telescope as The General pushes Caypor off the mountain. Hitchcocks intercuts this scene with Elsa and Marvin visiting with Caypor's mother and dog. As The General edges his victim closer to the precipice, Caypor's little dog goes to the door and begins to whine. Hitchcock doesn't show us the actual murder, opting to letting us see:  Ashenden's shock as he pulls back from the telescope; a long distance shot of The General standing alone in the snow; and Caypor's dog as it begins to howl with grief.

The second half of Secret Agent reflects the dark tone of Sabotage, as Ashenden and (especially) Elsa struggle with the guilt over the death of an innocent man. Elsa wants no further involvement with the espionage mission, one she undertook naively for "excitement and danger." The General, on the other hand, is prepared to do whatever is required and if there's some collateral damage, then so be it. That leaves Ashenden in the middle, torn between his guilt and his sense of patriotic duty.

The chase through the chocolate factory.

Like other great directors who made the transition from silent films to talkies, Hitchcock uses sound creatively. During a key scene in a chocolate factory, Hitchcock drowns out important dialogue with the sound of the chocolate-making machines. The scene's revelation--the identity of the real spy--is revealed later in a written note. Likewise, Hitchcock exploits natural sounds to great advantage: the dog howling in response to its owner's death and bells sounding in a tower where Ashenden and The General are hiding, almost deafening the two men.

Thematically, many familiar Hitchcock plot devices can be found in Secret Agent:  the amateur thrust into an espionage plot (e.g., Saboteur, North By Northwest); the use of false identities (e.g., Spellbound, Stage Fright, Vertigo); the outwardly charming villain (e.g., Notorious); and moral dilemmas (e.g., Vertigo,  I Confess).

In conclusion, Secret Agent may not be top-tier Hitchcock, but it's a thought-provoking film and required viewing for any fan of the Master of Suspense.

Route 66: Lizard's Leg and Owlet's Wing

The Route 66 "Halloween episode" was originally broadcast on October 26, 1962 during the show's third season. By then, Route 66 had lost some of the edge that made it one of the best television dramas of the early 1960s. Of course, it's clear that neither writer Stirling Silliphant nor the splendid guest cast intended "Lizard's Leg and Owlet's Wing" to be anything other than a lark. On that level, it's a modest success and all the participants seem to be having a grand time.

Buz and Tod oggling the girls.

The episode features two plotlines which eventually intersect (somewhat awkwardly). Series regulars Tod (Martin Milner) and Buz (George Maharis) land a job at Chicago's O'Hare Inn as "junior executives in charge of convention liaison." By virtue of a coin toss, Buz gets the plum assignment of supporting the secretaries' convention--which is like placing a wolf among the lambs. The incredibly bummed Tod ends up as liaison to the Gerenuk Society.

Tod learns that this mysterious "society" is a front for actors Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre, and Lon Chaney, Jr. (plus Martita Hunt from Brides of Dracula as their legal advisor). Lorre wants to make new horror films, but in the same vein as the old classics. Boris thinks that won't sell anymore and that they need to focus on contemporary horror. (Lorre explans to Tod that a "gerenuk" is an endangered species of antelope...thus drawing a parallel to the old horror stars.)

Meanwhile, Buz pursues one of the secretaries, only to learn that she's smitten with her former boss. In a weak plot development, Boris befriends the lovesick secretary and solves her romantic problems. Apparently, when Boris Karloff (the actors all play themselves) calls you on the phone, you listen!

Her reaction: "You look exhausted!"

There's a sloppiness to the whole episode, but there are minor delights along the way. Chaney has some very amusing scenes, especially when he's trying to frighten the lovelorn secretary while she appears oblivious to his Wolf Man makeup and ferocious growls. It makes one wonder why Chaney didn't try his hand at a horror comedy (a good one...not Hillbillys in a Haunted House). The highlight of "Lizard's Leg and Owlet's Wing" is the opportunity to see Karloff in makeup as the Frankenstein Monster for the first time since 1939's Son of Frankenstein. It's also fun to see Lon as the Mummy and Hunchback (with makeup similar to his father) as well as the Wolf Man.

If you're looking for a great Route 66 episode, this is not it. On the other hand, if you're a fan of the guest stars, you won't want to miss this lighthearted ode to their roles of the past.

A Month of Mysteries: The Police and the Underworld Seek the Same Killer in Fritz Lang's M (1931)

This Cafe Special was written by Kim Wilson.

The original title of this classic 1931 German film was Murderers Among Us. Though Hitler had not come to power yet, his little friends, the Nazis, had achieved great success in recent Reichstag elections. So, when they saw this title they naturally assumed it was about them--you would think this admission would have had a bigger effect on the German population. Anyway, they tried to derail director Fritz Lang’s production, via, not surprisingly, death threats. Though they weren’t right about many things, the Nazis and their reliance on mob mentality were essentially a key underlying theme. In the end, the name was simply changed to M. Two years later, with the Austrian madman fully in charge, Lang thought it best if he leave Germany. Unlike the Nazis, he was right.

Based on the real-life case of the Monster of Dusseldorf, Peter Kurten, this German Expressionistic film about the hunt for a child killer is Fritz Lang’s greatest talking picture. Not only was it provocative storytelling at its best, it was also one of the biggest influences on the development of film noir. Darkness, both internal and external, is at the core of this picture.

Peter Lorre plays Hans Beckert, a pathologically-driven serial killer of children. In the beginning of the film we learn that 8 children have been murdered over the past year. We see a blind man (Georg John) selling balloons and a little girl, Elsie Beckmann, taking the hand of a whistling man who buys her a balloon. A ball, the simple toy of a child, rolls down a hill and comes to a rest—and so has little Elsie. The murder takes place off-screen, but Lang uses Elsie’s balloon to show us all we need to see: now separated from her empty hand it ends up ensnared in telephone wires.

With angry parents demanding justice, the police begin to feel threatened and turn their investigation toward the seedier side of town: the criminal underworld. Seeing their activities strongly scrutinized by the police, the criminals, led by Shranker (Gustaf Grundgens), must now join in the search for the killer to ensure their own survival. Lang uses intercut scenes to show how both police and criminals plot strategies to get the killer—in essence saying there is no difference between the two groups. They decide to place those least likely to be noticed to set up surveillance: beggars. Again, Lang is making a social comment, especially when you consider what was going on in Germany at this time.

When the balloon seller hears a man whistling Edvard Grieg’s “Hall of the Mountain King” he remembers that a man was whistling the same tune the day of Elsie Beckmann’s murder. He tips off a nearby beggar, who follows Beckert leading a girl into a candy store. After When Beckert throws an orange peel on the sidewalk the beggar pretends to slip on it. Catching Beckert as he slips, he places a “M” on Beckert's shoulder, via his chalked palm. Beckert is now, literally, a marked man. In addition to this, the police have now tracked a postcard sent to the newspaper by the killer to Beckert’s apartment. When they search his room they find clues that link him to the crimes: Ariston cigarettes and a red pencil.

When the little girl he’s about to kill notices the “M” on his back and offers to wipe it off Beckert realizes he’s caught and runs into an office building. Schränker sends his men to search the building. Not knowing what is happening, a night watchman sounds the alarm. Just before the police arrive, the criminals find Beckert and leave the building—all except Franz (Friendrich Gnass), who now becomes the suspect. To save his own skin, Franz tells the police his friends have taken Beckert to an abandoned distillery to stand trial.

At his trial, Beckert attempts to explain that he can’t be held accountable for his actions because he does them unwillingly. It is an evil inside him that compels him to kill. He utters the classic line, “Who knows what it feels like to be me?" I find it especially interesting that his judges, the criminals, are wearing long leather coats instead of robes—another nod to the Nazi’s? Yet, before the criminals can inflict their brand of justice, the police arrive and take Beckert away. At his “real” trial, crying mothers await the verdict of the killer of their children and one says, “One has to keep closer watch over the children. All of you." No wiser words were ever uttered in Germany in the 1930s!

There are very few German films of the 1930s (with good reason) that capture the sense of doom that looms during this period. Lang uses lighting, specifically chiaroscuro, and high-angle shots to emphasize the evil that looms above. It is a menace that can’t be seen, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. It is foreshadowing (literally) at its best.

It is apt that Lang would use Edvard Grieg’s “Hall of the Mountain King” from Peer Gynt to identify Beckert to his victims and the viewers. As this opera is all about identity crisis. I suppose Lang took great pride in the fact that he himself was the actual whistler of this tune, since Lorre couldn’t do it himself.

Finally, the choice of Peter Lorre, with his bulging, sad eyes and strange ability to make sympathetic (and creepy) grimaces, was a wonderful choice for Beckert. This role elevated his career, but also typecast him as the villain for years to come. He, like Lang, had to flee Germany and the Nazis.

A must-see on many levels: cinematic, societal, and historical.


Be sure to check out Kim's new blog 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die.