The Longest Yard: "It's just a game."

I'm sure many critics would opt for Deliverance, but I'd rate Burt Reynolds' performance in The Longest Yard as his best. That opinion was just confirmed when I watched that 1974 football-in-prison film for probably the fifth time. It still holds up remarkably well despite running just over two hours and with a climatic game that takes up an amazing 42 minutes of the running time.

Burt plays Paul "Wrecking" Crewe, a washed-up pro football quarterback wasting away his life and living off a wealthy lady who has no interest in his mind. When he suddenly decides to rebel, she tries to stop him--only to be slapped and thrown to the floor (a scene that still shocks in its unexpected violence). He steals an expensive sports car, eludes the cops in a high-speed chase, and dumps the car in a river. When confronted by two police officers, he makes jokes at their expense and ends up in a fight. It's no surprise that he winds up in the Citrus State Prison for 2-5 years (18 months with good behavior).

A mean Eddie Albert.

Warden Rudolph Hazen (Eddie Albert) wants Crewe to help coach his semi-pro football team, consisting of prison guards, to a national title. For his own safety. Crewe declines. However, he makes a deal with Hazen later by agreeing to assemble a team comprised of prisoners as a "warm up" for the prison guards. Along the way, the self-centered, cocky Crewe learns a lot about his fellow inmates and, of course, even more about himself.

As some of you may know, I'm a sucker for a "let's form a team" plot and The Longest Yard doesn't disappoint on that front as Crewe and newfound friend Caretaker (James Hampton) try to form a ragtag football team. Most of their recruits just want to inflict some reciprocal pain on the cruel prison guards. But for others, it's an opportunity to regain self-respect or even recapture some sports glory from the past. Initially, Crewe considers it "just a game," but it becomes much more--especially after an inmate is viciously murdered.

Burt Reynolds displays plenty of his megawatt bad boy charm in The Longest Yard, but there's an edge here, a toughness, that's missing from later performances. He seems fully committed to his role, which is best captured in the prison scene where his trademark 1970s mustache is shaved off by a sneering guard.

It's hard to imagine a better supporting cast for a film like this. Eddie Albert puts aside his good guy image to play the unpleasant warden. Bernadette Peters has two brief, but delightful scenes, as an amorous secretary with Bride of Frankenstein hair. James Hampton, known for playing bugler Dobbs on F Troop, gives a career-best performance as Caretaker, a crafty sort who can smuggle anything into the prison. And 7' 2" Richard Kiel (Jaws in two Bond films) is hilarious as a surprisingly sensitive thug and gets one of the film's best remembered lines (though we won't reprint the colorful language here).

Bernadette Peters and hair.

There are plenty of former real-life pro football stars, too, to include: Mike Henry, Joe Kapp, Ray Nitschke, Pervis Atkins, Ernie Wheelwright, and Sonny Sixkiller. Henry, who played Tarzan in three 1960s pictures, would co-star with Reynolds again in the first two Smokey and the Bandit movies (and in the third one without Burt).

Sometimes crude and violent, The Longest Yard may not appeal to all viewers, but it's a well-crafted gritty sports film peppered with humor. It reminded me how good Burt Reynolds could be when he made the effort. It also made me realize that Robert Aldrich must have been one of the underappreciated directors of the 1950s through 1970s. His filmography includes such classics as Kiss Me Deadly, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?, The Dirty Dozen, and The Flight of the Phoenix.

Rock and Dorothy Write It in the Dusty Wind; Leslie Caron Can't Replace Doris

Dorothy Malone may have won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for Written on the Wind (1956), but Rock Hudson benefited more from the film's success. Along with Giant (1956) and his Jane Wyman pairings, Written on the Wind propelled Hudson into a major star. Thus, he was at the peak of his career while Malone's film roles were fading when they teamed up with Kirk Douglas in The Last Sunset. Malone's guest appearance in a 1961 two-part episode of Route 66 signaled the beginning of her transition to a television career that eventually resulted in the hit nighttime drama Peyton Place.

In The Last Sunset (1961), Malone plays the wife of a drunken, cowardly rancher (Joseph Cotten) who unknowingly offers a job to his spouse's former lover Bren O'Malley (Douglas). A Texas lawman named Stribling (Rock Hudson) wants O'Malley for the murder of his brother-in-law. The two men encounter each other at the ranch and, surprisingly, agree to put their showdown aside to help Malone and Cotten drive a herd of cattle through dangerous territory.

Considering the talent involved, including former blacklisted writer Dalton Trumbo and director Robert Aldrich, The Last Sunset should have been a better film. Nevertheless, the cast keeps it interesting and Kirk Douglas makes Bren one of the most poetic cowboys in American cinema, as evidenced by the passage below:

Find yourself a nice, big boulder with the waves breaking against it. Look deep. Dream of seahorses and they'll come. Not many people know of it. Not many people care. But the sea is a place where the seamen shoe the hooves of the wild sea mare. Not many men have seen it or caught the faintest gleam of the ice green cave in the deep green sea in the heart of the cold sea stream, but the sea mare hides her young sea colt wrapped in a shy sea dream. But probably all the people know and can absolutely say that the foam on the sea is the sign that you see the mare and her colt at play.

Carol Lynley, in one of her first major roles, has the best scenes as Malone's daughter. Ironically, the two actresses share a Peyton Place connection. Carol played Allison in the film Return to Peyton Place (1961), while Dorothy Malone later portrayed Allison's mother on the 1964-69 TV series.

Malone might have improved her performance in The Last Sunset by toning down the glamour. One can almost overlook the soft blonde curls, but her heavy pink lipstick and eye shadow seem inappropriate for a woman driving the chow wagon on the cattle trail.

Finally, one can't discuss The Last Sunset without mentioning a climatic revelation that may make some viewers cringe. It's not that the revelation is surprising--I suspected it from the beginning. It's that the screenwriters insert a scene that will convince many viewers that their suspicions cannot be correct. Thus, when the "truth" (assuming Malone's character isn't lying) is revealed, the realization of what happened (and what could have happened) is an "oh my" moment. If this paragraph doesn't make sense, read it someday after you've seen the movie.

Chadwick talking with two girlfriends
at the same time.

Rock Hudson's versatility and popularity made him one of the busiest actors in the 1960s. In A Very Special Favor (1965), he trades his Western duds for a business suit as a New York-based "trouble-shooter" named Paul Chadwick. He defeats a French attorney, Michel Boullard (Maurice Chevalier), in court by sleeping with the female judge. The elderly Boullard admires Chadwick's way with the ladies. In turn, Chadwick bonds with Boullard and, feeling bad about how he won the case, offers to perform a future favor.

It turns out that Boullard is visiting New York City to spend time with his daughter--whom he hasn't seen in many years. He learns that she is a female psychiatrist (Leslie Caron) who completely dominates her fiance (a very funny Dick Shawn). Deciding that his daughter needs someone who can ignite her passion at least once, he calls in his very special favor with Chadwick.

Leslie Caron.

What follows is the kind of sex farce that Rock Hudson and Doris Day carried off so effortlessly in Lover Come Back (my fave), Pillow Talk, and Send Me No Flowers. The problem with A Very Special Favor is that Leslie Caron lacks Doris' comedic chops--and there's no Tony Randall!

It's still amusing to see Rock, who was a fine comedian, play a ladies' man masquerading as a sensitive guy who's afraid of the opposite sex. His performance, though, is just a variation of the role he played to perfection in Lover Come Back. And without Doris Day--the ying to his yang--A Very Special Favor falls flat too many times.

A Cruel World, A Crueler Man in "Kiss Me Deadly"

Robert Aldrich's Kiss Me Deadly (1955) opens with a woman's bare feet sprinting on an apparently deserted road. The woman, Christina (Cloris Leachman, in her film debut), stands in front of an approaching vehicle. Gumshoe Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) swerves his car to avoid hitting her, and he reluctantly agrees to take her to the bus station. On the way, Christina tells Mike that, should they not make their destination, he needs to do one thing for her: "Remember me," she ominously states. Suddenly, they are forced off the road, and a semi-conscious Mike later sees a congregation of feet, while hearing Christina being tortured and killed. The dazed P.I. and the woman's body are put into Mike's car and pushed down a cliff.

Mike Hammer awakens in the hospital and is subsequently questioned by the police. The private eye, who specializes in divorce cases, soon has people asking about him, following him, and idly threatening him. Cops and criminals alike think that Mike is withholding pertinent information, and after having his private investigator's license and gun permit revoked, he tells his secretary and lover, Velda (Maxine Cooper), to forget the cheating spouses so that they can focus solely on "something big." And what everyone seems to be after is indeed big, bigger than Mike could ever anticipate.
Kiss Me Deadly was based on a novel of the same name by Mickey Spillane, featuring his immensely popular character. Reportedly, screenwriter A.I. Bezzerides, who adapted the book, had such aversion for the source text that the film ultimately took a dim view to Mike Hammer, turning him into a rather vile and despicable character. When initially interrogated, Mike refuses to talk, and the cops seem disgusted by him, asking him questions and patronizing him by "answering" on his behalf. When the gumshoe leaves, one of the men vindictively states, "Open a window." This is a man who knocks someone down a long flight of steps and smirks as he watches him roll down, a vicious person who clearly takes pleasure in slamming an uncooperative man's fingers in a desk drawer. He's the definitive antihero. He drowns the world out with loud classical music and screens his phone calls.

There are so many twists and turns in this film that it feels like constant movement. The first shot of Kiss Me Deadly is, appropriately, running feet. There's a distinct impression that Mike is running from place to place, hoping to be two steps ahead of everyone but more accurately having trouble keeping up. The concept of momentum is a significant component of the movie. Mike tries to identify Christina's killers by shoes, the deceased woman is equated with her roommate, Lilly (Gaby Rodgers), as she is likewise introduced with bare feet, and when Mike is taken captive, he is knocked unconscious and dragged (on a beach, as his feet leave a trail), and he is bound by feet and hands.

Mike moves forward with the investigation, and the villains want to stop him. His first car is wrecked, and he is "given" a second car with an explosive surprise. Other people have been killed in "accidents" involving vehicles. It's fitting that one of Mike's only friends is Nick (Nick Dennis), an auto mechanic whose catchphrase is, "Va-va-voom!" He's essentially an antithesis to the villains, wanting to fix what they wish to destroy.

With this in mind, the film's title can take on multiple connotations. A superficial view would associate the "kiss" with succumbing to the affection of the opposite sex, letting down your guard and opening yourself to a lethal reciprocation. But it can also refer to what Mike himself calls "the sweet little kiss off," an acknowledgment of death or, more specifically, the very thing which kills you. This gives deeper meaning to a warning provided by Velda: "Keep away from the windows. Somebody might blow you a kiss." Most notably, however, Kiss Me Deadly is a recognition of both good and bad, that sex ultimately leads to violence, as the two go hand in hand. Perhaps the film's quintessential shot is Lilly lying in bed, adorned in a robe and pointing a gun at the door.
Aldrich's film is abundant in atmosphere and style. Furthermore it's surprisingly violent, some of it even by today's standards. The majority of the violence's impact is not from the presentation itself but rather the callous way in which Mike dishes it out. Ralph Meeker has incredible presence, making Mike Hammer the type of character who makes a viewer feel both unassailable and anxious. At one point, Mike is shadowed by a stranger. The P.I. spots him almost immediately and seems to enjoy the moments preceding the inevitable attack. When the stranger pulls a switchblade, Mike forces him to drop the knife with the greatest of ease, before knocking him around and slamming his head against a building several times. It takes an extraordinarily cruel protagonist to make an audience sympathize with a man whose intent was to literally stab someone in the back.

The thing that everyone wants -- what Velda calls "the great whatsit" -- will likely be a surprise for anyone who hasn't seen the film (and hopefully hasn't been told how the film ends). Kiss Me Deadly continues its winding plot all the way to the closing credits, creating one of the grandest and most gleefully erratic cinematic endings of all time. Interestingly, for years the film's conclusion was truncated and left a couple of characters' fates in question. More recent copies of the film (the DVD, for instance) have the original ending intact.
Kiss Me Deadly is a solid entry in the film noir genre. Mike Hammer in Mickey Spillane's novels was a driven man, taken to seeking his own brand of justice; just look at some of the titles -- I, the Jury, Vengeance is Mine, etc. But Aldrich's cinematic Hammer is much more brutally simplistic. He just wants the payoff, indifferent to the people he hurts or kills, ignoring the police's requests for information, etc. In the end, it's impossible to tell if Mike wants to solve the mystery, if he's still hoping for monetary compensation, or if he's merely going through the motions. Such an enigmatic and unlikeable character within a baffling plot makes Kiss Me Deadly a beautifully complex and highly recommended feature.

31 Days of Halloween: Grande Dames take on Grand Guignol in "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?"

Sibling rivalry gone amok is at the heart of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (black & white, 1962). The film opens early in the 20th century, when vaudeville was still in vogue. Baby Jane Hudson, a spoiled, demanding and apparently none-too-gifted child star is the apple of her cloying father's eye. Her older, envious sister Blanche tends to smolder in the wings as Jane garners the shrieks and applause of her fans...but times change. Cut to a dark night and a fateful "accident" many years later...cut again to the early 60's, when former child star Jane (Bette Davis) and former movie star Blanche (Joan Crawford) now share a decomposing mansion...and some ugly memories. Blanche is crippled and wheelchair-bound as a result of the earlier "accident," and Jane is equally crippled, though her malady is psychological and fueled by alcohol.

Director Robert Aldrich (Kiss Me Deadly, The Dirty Dozen) spins a beautifully twisted tale, adapted by Lukas Heller from Henry Farrell's novel, and creates a suspense-driven, enduring classic filled with macabre and gruesome set pieces and memorable moments. Bette Davis inhabits the title role of the aged, demented "Baby Jane." Inappropriate in every way, Jane flounces around the house and neighborhood in vintage wig, makeup and clothing that recall the era when she was a young star. Joan Crawford portrays the long-suffering Blanche who managed to achieve stardom on her own but harbors a secret and is now completely dependent upon her increasingly disturbed sister. When Jane discovers that Blanche has plans to sell the mansion and put her in a home, the situation turns deadly and the suspense takes off. It doesn't let up. And, in the tradition of some of the best of the genre, Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? delivers a plot twist, though a poignant one, at the end.

A sleeper that became a sensation when it was released, the film sparked a trend in casting one-time Hollywood leading ladies in horror/thriller melodramas. However, none of those that followed were on a par with Baby Jane: Crawford in Strait-Jacket, Berserk, etc.; Davis in Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte, Dead Ringer, etc.; Olivia de Havilland in Lady in a Cage (and Charlotte with Davis and Joseph Cotten)...and even Joan Bennett in the gothic TV phenomenon, "Dark Shadows." But the film did more than make money (it was the first Hollywood film to earn back its budget in one weekend) and set a trend, it was also nominated for five Academy Awards and won for best B&W costume design.

This film is celebrated for many reasons, but it is the performance of Bette Davis that cements Baby Jane's place as a classic outside any genre. Davis "kicks out the jams" and gives a bravura portrayal, one of fascinating depth. Her Baby Jane Hudson is a grotesque, yes, she's over-the-top and she is terrifying at times...but she also has comic elements...and she is also a tragic, even touching figure. Crawford deserves attention, too, for bravely going toe-to-toe with Davis and turning in one of her most interesting performances, and Victor Buono is also notable for his magnificently repellent rendition of the corpulent accompanist Jane hires when she decides to return to show business.

This is one film that was literally meant to be seen on Halloween - it was released on October 31, 1962...