A Panel Discussion on Acclaimed Filmmaker and Critic Francois Truffaut

Francois Truffaut (1932-1984).

After a long hiatus, we're reviving our "3 on 3 panel" this month. The concept is that we ask three experts to answer three questions on a single classic film topic. This week, the Cafe poses three questions about French film critic and filmmaker Francois Truffaut. Our panel of three Truffaut experts consists of: Richard Finch, co-founder of the Facebook group Foreign Film Classics; Ray Keebaugh, a frequent contributor to the Foreign Film Classics group; and Sam Juliano, who writes about classic movies at his blog Wonders in the Dark.

1. What Francois Truffaut film would you recommend as an introduction to someone who has never seen any of his works?

Jean-Pierre Léaud in The 400 Blows.

Richard Finch: The Truffaut film I would recommend as a starting point is his very first one, The 400 Blows. It’s about a lonely and alienated boy, about 14 years old, growing up in Paris and finding solace in books and movies. If you read a biography of Truffaut, the film is clearly autobiographical and like most such first films (and novels, for that matter) heartfelt and moving. It clearly has the feeling of lived experience to it. It has one of the most haunting and enigmatic final shots in all cinema, Truffaut’s version of the last shot of Garbo in Queen Christina. In a poll at the excellent film blog site Wonders in the Dark last year for the top films about childhood (79 made the cut), it was chosen #1.

Ray Keebaugh:  If someone had never seen a movie by Truffaut, he is not likely to be acquainted with foreign films nor with movies beyond those made in America. I’d recommend The Story of Adele H., then Shoot the Piano Player or Jules and Jim. If his/her appetite was not stimulated enough to seek more Truffaut after those extremes, there's not much else I can do.

Sam Juliano: The venerated critic-director's very first film--The 400 Blows--would be my choice for the newbie approaching his work. My own history with The 400 Blows dates back to the early 1970s and the revival house screenings it enjoyed in such banner Manhattan institutions like The Thalia, the New Yorker and the Bleecker Street Cinemas. The film was almost always paired with Jules and Jim, a 1961 work that cemented Truffaut’s reputation as one of the rare people who followed a successful career as a critic with an even more renowned one as a director. I first saw it as an impressionable 17 year-old, and as such it moved me deeply, perhaps more than any other European film had, and led to discovering critical writings on the film by the most noted writers of the time. In the beginning--as should be expected for one so green behind the ears--it was actor Jean-Pierre Léaud's familial alienation, the bittersweet, seductive music by Jean Constantin, and the most haunting final shot the cinema ever showcased. It sent shivers down my spine and still does today. There is a universality in The 400 Blows that, while not exclusive in Truffaut's canon, is perhaps most accessible in this, a film that is easy to connect with and executed with the director's trademark aching lyricism. 

2. What do you believe was Truffaut's most important contribution to world cinema?

Truffaut interviewing Hitchcock.

Richard:  Truffaut made several important contributions to world cinema. First, he was one of the original theorists and practitioners of the French New Wave, a movement that has had immense influence on subsequent filmmakers. He and others like Jean-Luc Godard first proposed what is called the auteur theory, the concept that the director of a film is its author, the same as the writer of a book is its author. They developed an informal manifesto of a new type of film typified by freedom of style and and an emphasis on personal expression. Second, because for inspiration they looked to the Hollywood directors who, even though working in the studio system, consistently left their own stamp on their films. They brought serious attention to American directors like Hitchcock, Howard Hawks, and Nicholas Ray. These directors had been dismissed by American critics as mere purveyors of entertainment. Third, as Truffaut’s style and choice of subject changed over his 30-year career, he made it acceptable that directors can grow and develop--not just stick with their youthful dogma and keep making the same movie again and again. In many ways, his earliest films can be quite different from those of his maturity.

Ray:  It’s something to be argued among critics and “serious” film students. A cinematographer would not provide the same answer as, say, an editor. Different directors would not necessarily agree among themselves, and you may be certain critics wouldn’t. For me, choosing e pluribus unum, I love the eerie ease with which he draws us quickly into stories--often about destroyed lovers--like an unselfconscious poet. Narrative was not something to be sacrificed for his "art." It was what his art served. How he did it so entertainingly reflects the director's youthful love for movies, which, unlike some of his characters, did not come to a shocking, destructive end (except that it was so early). Truffaut also restored dignity to adolescence by weeding out all that false Hollywood Blue Denim crap. 

The Wild Child (1970).

Sam:  Truffaut's most important contribution to world cinema was his mastery of humanism, ranging from childhood to old age, and embracing various time periods and settings. His intoxicating cinematic lyricism was his manner and his foray into psychological realism. He was understandably celebrated for his ability to investigate the childhood experience. When movie fans are asked to identify the prime proponents of the cinema of childhood, the names of Steven Spielberg and Francois Truffaut invariably dominate the discussion. In the case of the former, the label seems more than justified all things considered, but of the Frenchman Truffaut’s twenty-one films, only three could reasonably be framed as films dealing with and populated by kids. The reason for the misrepresentation is undoubtedly the fact that the New Wave master’s debut feature, The 400 Blows, is one of the most celebrated and influential films of all-time, and the one most often named as the ultimate work on adolescent alienation. To be sure, Truffaut did chronicle the aging process of his Antoine Doniel character a series of films like Bed and Board and The Soft Skin, but at that point the youthful parameter had expired. In 1969, he explored the true-life story of a deaf and dumb boy raised in the outdoors--The Wild Child--and then seven years later, he wrote and directed what was to be his final foray into the pains and wonders of childhood with his magical Small Change. 

3. What do you think is Truffaunt's masterpiece and what is your personal favorite? Explain your choices.

Jeanne Moreau in Jules and Jim.

Richard:  My personal favorite of Truffaut’s films and what I consider his masterpiece is one and the same: Jules and Jim. It’s one of those films that just grab you and never leave your mind. Its centerpiece is the puzzling but hypnotic character Catherine, played by Jeanne Moreau, one of the greatest of all screen actresses, in what I think is her greatest performance. She plays a woman who has an affair with two best friends at the same time--a bona fide ménage à trois, quite a daring subject for its time, even for the French! Its influence can be seen in American films as diverse as Bonnie and Clyde and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. For me, it’s one of those films of which I can say without equivocation: “Once seen, never forgotten.”

Ray:  I love this question because it separates moviegoers from critics.  A critic has to regard a director's masterpiece as his favorite because what would it say about a critic's "taste" if he/she didn't? I'd say The 400 Blows is the "masterpiece." My favorite Truffaut movie would be (since I have to choose) Jules and Jim.

Sam:  The 400 Blows would also be my choice for the director's absolute masterpiece. No matter what you opt for, the landmark 1959 film remains his piece de resistance in a career that produced twenty-six films. Many regard the film as the most defining in the French New Wave movement, and by any barometer of measurement, it is seen as a definitive work in the childhood films cinema, finishing at or near the top in various online polls and per the declaration of film historians. Yet, the film’s preeminence as a work of psychological insight into the mind of a child has also pigeon-holed the director’s reputation with some as the cinema’s most celebrated director of these kind of films, or at least the equal of the American Steven Spielberg, when in fact the celebrated Gallic has helmed only three films about childhood. Such is the magnitude of The 400 Blows’s impact and continuing legacy that it has succeeded in forging a perception of a legendary director that is markedly in error, though even if it were true it wouldn’t diminish his top level artistic standing. Truffaut's legacy and contribution to world cinema doesn't only rest with his profound studies of childhood, but with the human condition, where he sits with the most renowned practitioners in the art.

3 on 3: Science Fiction Films of the 1950s

Three film experts. Three questions. One topic. That's the idea behind the Cafe's 3 on 3 discussion panels. This month's topic is a personal favorite: the classic science fiction films of the 1950s. To answer our three questions, we chose a trio of big brains (hey, it goes with the sci fi theme): the classic film blog Grand Old Movies; Tom, who just launched his new blog The Old Movie House; and Chris Cummins from MovieFanFare. Just click on the blog titles to visit any of these marvelous movie sites.

1. In literature, authors sometimes use science fiction to reflect on contemporary issues. Can the same be said of science fiction filmmakers in the 1950s? If so, what kinds of issues influenced their films?

Klaatu warns Earth in The Day
the Earth Stood Still.

Grand Old Movies: Hollywood's 1950s sci-fi films definitely commented on then-current events, beginning with 1951's The Day The Earth Stood Still, which is very much a warning against nuclear-arms proliferation. Many other sci-fi films, of course, reflected Cold-War terrors (e.g., Invasion of the Body Snatchers, It Came From Outer Space). The question may be why such a trend in science-fiction films began in the 1950s (some earlier exceptions, such as H.G. Wells' 1936 Things To Come, also reflect on contemporary history; for Wells, it was an anti-war message in the post-WWI world). It could be because major sci-fi writers with a finger on the pulse, such as Ray Bradbury and Richard Matheson, were either writing for movies or having their works adapted. But I think there was a sense in America not only of its post-WW2 global importance but of having crossed a boundary---post-Hiroshima, we now possessed the capacity literally to destroy the world, and that anxiety permeated many aspects of culture, including films. Plus sci-fi is a genre that, by its speculative, fantastic nature, allows you to express abstractions as concrete metaphors. Forbidden Planet, for instance, gives us the 'Id Monster,' a literal symbol of humankind's unconscious, violent impulses gone out of control. Because the story is on another planet, thousands of years in the future, the filmmakers can embody this concept in a 'physical' form. And I would throw in the competition with that Hollywood hobgoblin, television. One way to drag people out of their living rooms and back into movie theaters is to tell them something about themselves, about what they're experiencing. And sci-fi tries to do that.

One fascinating aspect of how 50s sci-fi flicks reflect social attitudes is how they also anticipate issues that would later become prominent---one being feminism. Many of these films have strong female characters, who are often professionals: Women who are not just wives and mothers, and are not working as secretaries, but are frequently scientists and doctors. Faith Domergue in This Island Earth is a major example. Even Zsa Zsa Gabor in Queen of Outer Space is a scientist! She's working in a lab outfitted in an evening gown and high heels; later, she leads the revolution decked in gold lamé and an Uzi. You can't get more progressive than that!

Grant Williams and former pet in The
Incredible Shrinking Man.

Tom: In answer to the first question I would say the underlying theme of movies of the fifties, specifically science fiction films, I’d say was fear. Fear of the unknown. Atomic energy was an unknown. No one truly understood it, not even the people who created the bomb. The scientists thought it might do this, and it might do that. But nobody knew for sure. In the science fiction films of the fifties it was thought atomic energy could and would create horrible mutations. Gigantic animals, insects, and people were everywhere. The engine that powered the spaceship in the film The Day The Earth Stood Still was powered by atomic energy. At the opposite end of the spectrum people shrank as demonstrated in the film The Incredible Shrinking Man and in the film Dr. Cyclops. All because of an energy source many feared, and few understood.

Chris: I personally wasn't around back then, but it's clear to me that the era's problems were frequently reflected in popular entertainment of the day. From the subtextual exploration of McCarthyism in Invasion of the Snatchers to how films like Them! commented on atomic age fears, sci-fi was the genre that was consistently commenting on real world issues.


2. In terms of impact on the genre, what's the most influential science fiction film of the 1950s?

Dana Wynter and Kevin McCarthy
discover pods in Invasion.

Grand Old Movies: Most influential is Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956). It not only is a concentrated example of 1950s anxieties, but its paranoia narrative has shaped so many sci-fi films, even today (e.g., Contagion). Pauline Kael once noted about Invasion that its premise, of people transformed into pods, reflected the fear that "people are turning into vegetables." What Invasion does, as cited in my earlier point, was to take a metaphor and make it concrete---the idea that we are losing our humanity and are becoming unfeeling automatons. What's also striking about Invasion is how viewers argue whether it's a warning against Communism or against McCarthyism. The movie seems able to embrace both sides of the question. Some viewers might think this a weakness, but I think it adds to the film's richness. By, in effect, reflecting multiple anxieties, the film becomes more central, both to 50s sci-fi and to our ongoing concerns about who we are as social beings.

The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms was
a surprise boxoffice hit.

Tom: In terms of a specific film having the most impact you have to ask yourself: "How shall I answer this?" For simple economic impact the answer is The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms. It made over five million dollars between the date of is release, June 13, 1953 and Labour Day 1953. From an intellectual point I think the film that had the most far reaching impact is the original 1951 version of The Day The Earth Stood Still. It not only entertained, it actually made people pause, and think. For once the aliens didn’t have to have scales and two heads. Because of that film people started, albeit very slowly, thinking that a unfriendly neighbour might look just like them. The film with the greatest legacy is The Day the Earth Stood Still. It’s regarded by the American Film Institute as one the most important science fiction films ever made.

Chris: My pick would be The Day the Earth Stood Still, which remains the most exciting--and ultimately human--cautionary tales of the era.


3. What would you rank as the three best science fiction films of the 1950s and the single most underrated one?

Alien spaceships from The War
of the Worlds.

Grand Old Movies: My three best are Invasion of the Body Snatchers, War of the Worlds (1953), and The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957). I've outlined my argument about Invasion above, in the 2nd question. War of the Worlds has been one of my favorites since I was a child---it's exciting, well-done, with great effects; the interest never lags. And it also, if I may dare say it, gives a sense of Higher Meaning---that human beings are linked to a greater power. The film's concluding line, how the smallest things "which God has put on this earth" defeat the Martians, is in the original Wells novel, but it's not central there; Wells pretty much tosses the line away. George Pal, however, concluded his film with the line, and gave it a much different emphasis. The same with Shrinking Man, which ends, quite movingly, I think, with the observation on how the infinite meets the infinitesimal---and that in the eyes of the Infinite, there is no zero. I haven't read Richard Matheson's novel, but I understand he does not conclude with such an observation; it was added by the director Jack Arnold. It does alter the film toward a different reading. Plus, Shrinking Man is an excellently done movie. It's another metaphor made concrete---the question of how important are our small selves in the vast scheme of the universe. And the last third of the story, in which the hero in his vastly reduced state must confront the terrors of his own basement, is terrific. His battle with the spider appoaches the mythic---ironically, you have to shrink the protagonist in order to arrange a combat with a monster that recalls such myths as Theseus and the Minotaur. It's a brilliant switch.

For underrated, my pick is Invaders From Mars (1953). Again, it's another old favorite of mine. I love its child-point-of-view narrative, how everything is told through the little boy's comprehension. That makes events more chilling, as when the parents become inexplicably cold and angry. The set design reflects this beautifully, particularly that all-white police station with its vertiginous, non-ending corridors. And the film's starting-all-over-again ending is unusual. Plus, frankly, what's not to like about that tentacled Head in a bubble!

Tom: The three best of the genre appeared at the beginning of the decade. First out of the gate was Destination Moon. Strange as it may seem they got many of the details right. Filmmakers later in the decade didn’t care, as long their pockets books were filled. The Thing from Another World would be my second choice as one the best sci-fi films of the fifties. The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms would round out my choices. For the simple reason it showed what you could do with film, and that I enjoyed it. I think the most underrated film of the fifties was Earth Vs. The Flying Saucers. It was an ok film, but I think it could have been better.

Chris: (3) The Thing from Another World; (2) The War of the Worlds; (1) The Day the Earth Stood Still. As for the most underrated, I really have a soft spot for Invasion of the Saucer-Men. It's an incredibly fun romp that is highlighted by some truly great creature design.

3 on 3: Hammer Films

All this month, the Cafe has presented "3 on 3 panels" in which three experts answered three questions on a single classic film topic. For this final week, the Cafe poses three questions on Hammer Films, Britain's "House of Horror" to: Kevin from Kevin's Movie Corner; Alex from Korova Theatre Presents; and Sarkoffagus, the Cafe's resident authority on Hammer.

1. What is your favorite of the Hammer Frankenstein films and why?

Sark: Frankenstein Must be Destroyed. It's one of the few Frankenstein films I've seen (from any country or studio) that has a completely unsympathetic doctor, in lieu of the man simply being a misunderstood genius. This allows the character to revel in corruption and manipulation, and the more often he crosses the boundaries of good taste, the more he becomes the "monster" of the film. As his severity escalates, so, too, does the intrigue in watching him. Best of all, it's a showcase for Peter Cushing, whose energetic performance makes a lingering impression.

Kevin: Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed. Probably Peter Cushing’s best and most ferocious performance in the series, a haunting turn by Freddie Jones as the creature, one of the greatest shock scenes in Hammer’s filmography (the burst pipe), an intelligent and adult screenplay and a devastating ending. Not one to send the audience out with a smile on their faces. Oh yeah, and Veronica Carlson too. Runner-up: Frankenstein Created Woman (1967), one of the saddest horror movies ever made. Yes, saddest. Just heart-wrenching in parts.

Victor Frankenstein confronts his
creature in The Curse of Frankenstein.

Alex: The Curse of Frankenstein is the first of seven films and is undeniably my favorite, though this series is more consistent in quality than Dracula. I like this film for many reasons, specifically the (unintentional?) subtext: "The story becomes a pretext for mankind’s toying in the clockwork of heavenly conception, unwinding the springs of electric impulse and restarting of tick-tock hearts. But it can also be seen as a Cold War parable of unleashing the atom, a power now beyond control, feared knowledge now spread like a virus among political psychopaths."

I don't quite believe it coincidence that the creature resembles a horridly burned victim of radiation, much like those poor souls who perished at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Christopher Lee imbues the creature with a sublime gentleness, mostly reflected in those sad eyes, a victim himself of science gone mad. To hide its face in shame, to be self-aware of its deformity is a pity...and Victor Frankenstein is to blame! He and his Promethean ego.

Terence Fisher's direction is wonderful, structuring the film in flashback and never shying away from the Technicolor gore (though tame by modern standards). I also like the tracking shot when the creature is first revealed, and compare it to John Ford's famous close-up in Stagecoach when he introduces John Wayne! Though Victor's head is eventually placed on the chopping block, nothing in the Hammer universe is ever what it seems.


2. What is your favorite of the Hammer Dracula films and why?

Sark: Brides of Dracula. It takes a consummate film to make viewers forget that the imposing Christopher Lee as Dracula is nowhere to be found. Hammer has always been known for methodically paced, gothic period pieces, but this movie is, at its very basic, a romantic action film. Cushing shines the brightest as Van Helsing, and Yvonne Monlaur is an appealing love interest. Drop in some vampires, and you've got first-class cinema!

Christopher Lee surveys a victim in
runner-up Taste the Blood of Dracula.

Kevin: Have to go with the first, Horror of Dracula (aka Dracula). Not exactly Stoker, but full of unforgettable scenes. In the last 50 years we’ve been inundated with vampires, but I can only imagine what audiences felt when they first saw this in 1958. Even today the close-up of Lee’s shocked face as he opens his eyes and his blood stained lips as he hears his vampire wife being staked is spine chilling. James Bernard’s landmark score, Hammer’s ace production design and that unforgettable climax make this a true classic. Seeing Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee go at it at the end is one of my all time favorite sequences. Runner-up: Taste the Blood of Dracula.

Alex: The first of a series is once again my favorite: Dracula. Though director Terence Fisher cuts Stoker's narrative to the bone, excising exposition and Victorian misogyny, Fisher does create a wonderful action film that is well paced and well bled. I prefer Hammer's version to the classic Universal which is well shot, I've always like Tod Browning's work, but it's too meek and visually reserved. Stoker’s text is rich with sensual delights underscored by some dreaded Freudian fear of women empowered by liberation from chaste cultural mores.

Fisher’s mise-en-scene conveys information so the story can jump cut quickly to the next setup. For example, as Van Helsing searches the castle for his cohort Jonathan Harker, he discovers a shattered picture frame. In one shot we learn the who, what, when, why, and where, of Dracula’s next appearance: he’s in search of the beautiful Lucy and her precious bodily fluids. This is compact storytelling that wastes little time with lengthy establishing shots or obtuse dialogue, and propels the journey towards its candelabra climax!


3. Although Hammer is most famous for its two series above, the studio made plenty of other quality movies...some with monsters and some without. What are some of your other favorite Hammer films and why do they appeal?

Oliver Reed, filmed from underneath
the water, in Paranoiac.

Sark: Paranoiac -- My favorite of Hammer's superb black-and-white thrillers. Thoroughly captivating, plus an exceptionally creepy mask. Blood from the Mummy's Tomb -- Easily the strangest and most unsettling mummy film I've ever seen, the movie is rich in atmosphere and an overall sense of doom. Countess Dracula -- She's no vampire, but Countess Elizabeth Nádasdy craves blood just as much as a fanged creature of the night. Bolstered by a remarkable and tragically underrated performance by Ingrid Pitt, this film is vintage Hammer: gloriously bizarre and undeniably mesmerizing.

Charles Gray as the dapper villain
of The Devil Rides Out.

Kevin: The Devil Rides Out. Probably my all-time favorite Hammer horror film, despite the embarrassingly bad special effects at the end. (It’s almost like they ran out of money.) But the 1920s atmosphere, a standout performance by Charles Gray, Christopher Lee in heroic mode and a genuine aura of creepiness make this one a winner for me. Never Take Candy From a Stranger (1960): This uncompromising look at the town’s refusal to accept there is a child molester living in their midst is the bravest film Hammer ever made. Scream of Fear (1961): My favorite Hammer mystery thriller with twists I never saw coming. Marvelous lead performance by Susan Strasberg.

Alex: My favorite Hammer film is Roy Ward Baker’s Quatermass and the Pit (aka Five Million Years to Earth), the third in the BBC series of Professor Quatermass productions. Director Roy Ward Baker films in mostly medium shot and close-up, with urgent dialogue and few establishing shots which create a made-for-television style narrative: most likely because this is an adaptation from a BBC series. A thinking fan’s science fiction film, how delightful!

But there are other standouts that are often overlooked because of the Hammer label, yet have little to do with horror or science fiction. Two great War films Yesterday’s Enemy and The Camp on Blood Island make David Lean’s epic look like melodramatic kids playing at war. Director Val Guest imbues these films with brutal honesty, never shying away from the tough (and unfair) responsibilities that men face during wartime. The Nanny is a great thriller with Bette Davis, owing as much to Hitchcock as to director Robert Aldrich. And it has one of the creepiest kids since Jack Clayton’s The Innocents or Mervyn Leroy’s The Bad Seed!

3 on 3: Film Noir

Each week this month, the Cafe will present a "3 on 3 panel" in which three experts will answer three questions on a single classic film topic. This week, the Cafe poses three questions on film noir to: Gary Cahall from MovieFanFare!; Dorian from the blog Tales of the Easily Distracted; and Sheri Chinen Biesen, author of Blackout: World War II and the Origins of Film Noir.

1. What is your definition of a film noir and what film do you consider the prototype--the one that best exemplifies the genre?

Stanwyck and MacMurray in
Double Indemnity.

Gary: Film Noir is the accidental love child of German silent expressionist cinema and Warner Bros.’ 1930s crime dramas, raised in an atmosphere of World War II heroism and Cold War paranoia. Along with the requisite shadowy streets (big city or small town) and shadowy deeds (premeditated or accidental), a successful noir picture often has a protagonist who is walking the fine line between good and evil, and who--if it’s a male--is just as likely to kill or be killed by the female lead as he is to kiss her at the movie’s close. And no matter how many characters are in the film, the one constant presence is Fate.

I know it’s not the most daring of choices, but to me the picture that best captures these elements is director Billy Wilder’s 1944 thriller Double Indemnity, starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, and Edward G. Robinson. A seemingly smart guy in over his head, a seductive and amoral temptress, and a “fool-proof” murder plot that’s not as simple as it appears...all with whip-smart dialogue from Wilder and co-scripter Raymond Chandler, of Philip Marlowe fame.

Dorian: I’d define a film noir as a story in which the bleakest aspects of humanity keep trying to get the upper hand, and the protagonist(s) keep trying to thwart those aspects against all odds. Those “bleakest aspects” can range from one character’s problem to an overall tough situation affecting many characters.

Peter Lorre in Stranger on
the Third Floor.

Sheri: The antihero in Stranger on the Third Floor complains, “What a gloomy dump. Why don't they put in a bigger lamp?” Paul Schrader defines noir as “Hollywood films of the 1940s and early 1950s that portrayed the world of dark, slick city streets, crime and corruption.” Film noir is a series of atmospheric black-and-white wartime-postwar Hollywood crime films known for shadowy style, doomed antiheroes, lethal femme fatales and cynical hardboiled worldview. Literally, “black film” or “dark cinema,” film noir was coined in 1946 by French critics discovering dark wartime Hollywood films they were seeing for the first time. This dark film trend was recognized in the U.S. In my book Blackout: World War II and the Origins of Film Noir, I explain how wartime Hollywood blackouts and censorship influenced film noir. Double Indemnity is an exemplar of noir style.


2. If you had to single out one director that influenced film noir than any other, who would it be?

Gary: Austrian-born Fritz Lang, who presaged the noir style with such films as M and the Dr. Mabuse movies in Europe before fleeing to America when Hitler came to power. His first Hollywood project, the 1936 lynch mob drama Fury with Spencer Tracy, contained a number of noir sensibilities, as did his 1941 “let’s kill Hitler” thriller Man Hunt. Within the noir demimonde itself, Lang’s resume includes The Woman in the Window, Scarlet Street, The Big Heat, and a picture that’s my answer to question #3.

MacMurray and Robinson in
Wilder's classic film noir.

Dorian: Of all the talented directors who’ve influenced film noir, I’d single out Billy Wilder because of his gleefully jaundiced view of humanity. Even Wilder’s comedies have a strong undercurrent of cynicism, so it’s only natural that his dramas and suspense films would fit so well in the noir universe, including Sunset Boulevard (1950), Ace in the Hole (1951), and of course, my personal favorite, Double Indemnity (1944).

Sheri: So many fine noir directors. Tough choice. . . .While Fritz Lang is very important, as is Robert Siodmak, one of the most influential noir auteurs was émigré writer-director Billy Wilder (Double Indemnity, Sunset Boulevard, Lost Weekend, Ace in the Hole).


3. What is your favorite underrated film noir, the one film that doesn't get the attention it should?

Gary: While the City Sleeps, a later (1956) genre entry that’s part “psycho killer” suspenser and part hard-boiled newspaper drama. A serial murderer dubbed “The Lipstick Killer” is preying on women in New York City, and Vincent Price, the ne’er-do-well son of a deceased media mogul, offers a promotion to whoever among his top newsmen can break the story and bring the maniac to justice. The suspense comes not so much from trying to guess the murderer’s identity (we see him “in action” before the opening credits), but from watching how far reporter Dana Andrews, photo editor James Craig, city editor Thomas Mitchell, and wire service head George Sanders will go—from office politicking and backstabbing to using their wives/girlfriends (Rhonda Fleming and Ida Lupino, among others) as “bait”—to win Price’s contest. Oh, and Lang clearly shows that one of the things driving the “mama’s boy” madman into his flights of homicidal rage is EC horror comics.

Dorian: I’ve always felt that Henry Hathaway’s The Dark Corner (1946) was an underrated noir. It covers so many classic tropes that it’s almost like “Film Noir’s Greatest Hits,” in a good way! One of the things I like most about it was Lucille Ball’s character Kathleen. She’s warm, loving, and practical, yet also strong and able to think on her feet and help save the day when hero Mark Stevens is up against it.

Elisha Cook, Jr. in Phantom Lady.

Sheri: Many underrated noir films. . . . Double Indemnity is more influential than many realize in spurring the film noir trend recognized in the U.S. film industry during the war. More modest early underrated noir include Stranger on the Third Floor and Phantom Lady (which needs to be released on DVD and Blu-Ray). Lang's Ministry of Fear is underrated with beautiful noir style shot during wartime blackouts just before Siodmak filmed Phantom Lady and Wilder shot Double Indemnity. Dead Reckoning, Out of the Past, Act of Violence and Tension are also great.

3 on 3: Gangster Films

Each week this month, the Cafe will present a "3 on 3 panel" in which three experts will answer three questions on a single classic film topic. This week, the Cafe poses three questions on gangster films to three of our favorite classic movie bloggers:  John Greco from Twenty Four Frames; ClassicBecky from ClassicBecky's Brain Food; and R. D. Finch from The Movie Projector.

1. What's the most influential gangster film of the 1930s?

Paul Muni in Scarface.

John: I will have to go with Scarface: Shame of a Nation. Most obviously because of the De Palma reimagination with Pacino and "his little friend," however I think there is more than just that. Hawks' film is almost epic in its filming and thinking. On the surface, the film is a reworking of Al Capone (like Capone, Tony Camonte, a small time hood comes to Chicago from New York to work for a Chicago boss) but screenwriters Ben Hecht, W.R. Burnett and three others go further, bringing in the Borgia family, incest, sexual fetishism and of course...violent murder. The film was so blatant in these areas many state censor boards from all over the country banned the film. Hawks and his screenwriters made Camonte a Neanderthal thinking killer with raw basic instincts rubbing out anyone who gets in his way. The brutal behavior and violence is offset by dark arty camerawork which I think truly separates it from other gangsters films of its time. As Camonte, Muni is bestial, lustful, and dangerously comical. He is sexually stimulated by his bosses' mistress (Karen Morley), his trampy sister (Ann Dorvak) and his machine gun. The film's influence can be seen in works as diverse as Coppola's The Godfather and Wilder's Some Like it Hot. In Wilder's film, George Raft as Spat Columbo pays tribute to his earlier role in Scarface when he asks another gangster who's flipping a coin: "Where did you pick up that cheap trick?"

James Cagney is The Public Enemy.

ClassicBecky: I chose the original Big 3, Scarface, Little Caesar and The Public Enemy, in determining the most influential 1930's gangster film. My intellect says that Paul Muni's Scarface is actually the best of the three, and holds the unique position of progenitor of future gangster films to come decades later. My emotions tell me that Little Caesar is the best performance of an actor as mobster, with Edward G. Robinson bringing to life the true sociopathic gangster, frightening and amoral. However, as a movie historian, I believe that in the context of most influential gangster film of the 1930s, Public Enemy fills that bill best. James Cagney's performance as Tom Powers is the one that flowered into the tough but sympathetic mobster, with characteristics of mannerism and personality that appealed to audiences and became the prototype for classic era gangster films.

Edward G. Robinson in Little Caesar.

R.D. Finch: Three gangster films of the early 1930s, all made about the same time, had a huge influence on later movies of this type: Little Caesar, Public Enemy, and Scarface. Their great innovation was to elevate the gangster from mere villain to main character, and to cast magnetic actors in these focal roles. Those films followed the trajectory of classic tragedy—the rise to power, the corruption from excessive egoism, and the inevitable fall—and treated their gangster characters almost as tragic figures, as victims of their own character flaws as well as outside forces. These men did bad things and came to a bad end, yet viewers felt a kinship with them in a way they never did with traditional villains, like those in Westerns. The thing I find most interesting about those early gangster movies is that motivation—what drove the characters to become criminals—wasn't explored too deeply, nor was the psychology of antisocial behavior. I have to wonder if the social conditions of the time were responsible for the filmmakers' belief that audiences would accept the behavior of men like Rico, Tom Powers, and Tony Camonte without questioning motivation too closely. This was a time of great despair, with the effects of the Depression really beginning to be felt in 1930-31. The Hoover administration's hands-off attitude toward the crisis encouraged cynicism about authority, and gangster movies allowed the viewer the vicarious satisfaction of doing something rebellious in an environment where authority had become the enemy. In a subversive way, these films embodied the Great American Belief that with hard work anyone can be successful. If there were no opportunities to use innovation, ambition, and independence to get ahead lawfully, then you had to do it outside the law.

2. Where would you rank The Godfather trilogy among the classic gangster films?

John: Considering that I rank The Godfather and The Godfather Part II as two of America's greatest films they certainly would rank toward the very top of the classic gangster film spectrum. The third film in the trilogy was a bit of a letdown though upon a second and third viewing its stature has improved. The first two films are perfect (has anyone ever seen The Godfather Saga, Coppola's re-edited version of the first two films made for TV?). In these films FFC merges art and commercialism, high and low art, turning pulp fiction into an epic tale of the American dream. It became the film that all future gangster films would be compared against. I have to admit I have a love/hate relationship in numerically ranking films. Styles, taste change with time, altering one's feelings and judgment. Along with the first two Godfather films though, I would include Angels With Dirty Faces, White Heat, Hawks' Scarface, The Roaring Twenties, GoodFellas, Mean Streets and The Public Enemy among the best. I think it's a fairly common list except possibly for Mean Streets. You will note these are all urban gangster films as opposed to the more rural outlaw films like Bonnie and Clyde and They Live By Night. That would be a whole other list.

The first of The Godfather trilogy.

ClassicBecky: I have to admit that I always think of The Godfather films as a fantastic duet of original and sequel. I thought Godfather Part III strayed way too far away from the first two. It had good things in it, mostly the addition of Andy Garcia's character, but it was definitely substandard in my opinion. The original Godfather and Godfather Part II rank very highly as a modern example of a new and fresh gangster genre that started a wave of films like GoodFellas, Casino and the cable series The Sopranos. In that respect, The Godfather trilogy represents the same kind of influence to modern audiences as the Big 3 of the '30s did to audiences of their day.

R.D. Finch: At the absolute top. They're (well, the first two parts anyway) not just great gangster films but among the greatest films of any type.


3. After the 1970s, the traditional gangster film genre all but disappeared except for occasional films like GoodFellas, Bugsy, Mobsters, and Carlito's Way. What do you believe led to the downfall of the gangster film?

John: There have been a few others (Casino, A Bronx Tale, Donnie Brasco) that I can think of, so I am not sure that the public has lost interest as much as the money men rather bet their dollars on comic book heroes, and endless sequels than take a chance on a gangster film, or say a western, which seems to be in a similar boat. They don't make this kind of film and it is rubber stamped as out of fashion. Then again, the majority of the movie going public seems to continually be getting younger and younger and the films getting made are geared toward their interests; over blown video game style violence and special effects. Al Capone may not seem like such a super villain compared to mutants, intergalactic evil doers and other extraordinary villains. Even Lex Luther from Superman may seem like a pussycat when compared. Will the gangster film ever make a comeback? I think so. When? That, I don't know, but there are some signs. Boardwalk Empire is scheduled to come back for a second season on HBO, and according to IMDb, Al Pacino, John Travolta and Joe Pesci are in a pre-production stage on the making of Gotti: In the Shadow of My Father. The near future may rest on how well these two works perform.

ClassicBecky: This is definitely the toughest question. Although 1980-2010 did have famous mobster movies (Scarface remake, Untouchables, Once Upon A Time in America, The Godfather Part III, GoodFellas, Casino, Road to Perdition, The Departed), they were not in my eyes true gangster films, except perhaps for Scarface (I hated it), Godfather III (hated that too) and GoodFellas (bloody but good). The others I mentioned are either nostalgia-based or personal struggle-type stories. I think perhaps the growing emphasis on marketing to younger audiences was partly responsible for this. Especially in the 80s, the sexual revolution was in full swing, and movies like Flashdance, Basic Instinct, etc. were popular. Light romantic comedies, the Indiana Jones movies, the Rocky movies, Star Wars sequels, Rambo, and the beginning of a proliferation of family Pixar-type movies seemed to be the wave of the future.

R.D. Finch: I don't think I can fully agree with this statement. Of course, part of it depends on how broad the definition of "gangster film" is. Other popular genres of the thirties like screwball comedy and musicals have all but disappeared, but the gangster film seems to have been more adaptable. Movies about professional criminals and organized crime are still being made regularly and sometimes successfully, although the gangster figure isn't always the exclusive focus of the film and, of course, there's far more awareness of the role of abnormal psychology in criminal behavior. Here are some that come to mind: De Palma's Scarface, Prizzi's Honor, Miller's Crossing, Quentin Tarantino's early films, Donnie Brasco, Cronenberg's A History of Violence and Eastern Promises, Michael Mann's movies like Heat and the recent Public Enemies, and of course Scorsese's many excursions into the genre, most notably GoodFellas and The Departed.

3 on 3: Disney Animated Films

Each week this month, the Cafe will present a "3 on 3 panel" in which three experts will answer three questions on a single classic film topic. This week, the Cafe poses three questions on Disney animated films to:  Brandie from True Classics: The ABCs of Classic Film; Alex from The Disney Films; and Toto, our resident Disney authority at the Cafe.

1. What is your favorite Disney animated feature-length film and why?

Alice in Wonderland.

Brandie: Alice in Wonderland (1951). I'm well aware that this is not a popular choice, but it has been one of my favorites since childhood. Even though many literary purists would likely disagree with me, I think Disney's Alice is faithful to the anarchic, satirical spirit at the heart of Carroll's work. Everything about the movie, from the gorgeous animation to the numerous musical snippets to the seemingly random organization of the film's segments, speaks to the innate playfulness embedded in Carroll's original stories. It's a surrealistic piece of pop culture candy, and I enjoy every "mad" minute of it.



Alex: While my answer is partially sentimental, my favorite Disney animated film is Peter Pan. The artistic influence of Mary Blaire is very apparent in the color scheme of Neverland, the characters are memorable and the animation is top notch. It also breaks with convention from other Disney animated films. For starters, Captain Hook is a comical villain. When compared to more sinister antagonists, such as Lady Tremaine from Cinderella or Scar from The Lion King, the obstacles in this film somehow never feel as high, but this adds to its charm. And the fact that the comical villain has a goofball sidekick adds to his appeal. Romance is nowhere to be found in this film. Wendy obviously has a crush on Peter, but the feelings are not reciprocated and his fairy companion Tinker Bell displays her disdain for having another girl around since she too has feelings for the boy who will never grow up. It may not have the emotional weight of some of the other classics, but the ending certainly leaves the viewer with chills when stern Mr. Darling, who wants nothing more than for his children to grow up fast, sees clouds in the form of a pirate ship over the moon and reflects “I have a strange feeling I’ve seen that ship before… when I was a small boy.” It is never established if Neverland was real or a dream, similar to Wonderland, which adds to its appeal.

Beauty and the Beast.

Toto: From its bookend storybook stained-glass window frames where we are introduced to the selfish prince and the curse placed upon him, Beauty and the Beast captured a place in my heart. Belle is a lovely girl who adores her father, reading, and singing. Gaston is a puffed up muscular bore. And we meet a host of charming personalities in the enchanted castle where Belle chooses to live with the Beast to save her father (including dear Mrs. Potts the tea pot, Chip the young cracked cup, Lumiere the charming candlestick, Cogsworth the proper clock, and the dog-like footstool). The music and lyrics by the profoundly gifted team of Alan Menken and Howard Ashman are perfection, especially the Busby Berkeley-like “Be Our Guest,” “Something There,” and the title song numbers. I was surprised at how well I liked Robby Benson as the prince/Beast and was delighted that Broadway performer Paige O’Hara was cast as Belle. Animation studios typically seem to think it is imperative to cast movie stars as their lead vocal talent. I was a little apprehensive about viewing Beauty and the Beast because I love Jean Cocteau’s exquisitely atmospheric La Belle et La Bete. But I learned a very important lesson a few years earlier with Disney’s The Little Mermaid. I adore Hans Christian Andersen’s story and avoided that Disney film because I was afraid it would ruin the classic work. When I finally saw The Little Mermaid and really enjoyed it, I learned how important it is to regard each work separately. Every book or film should stand on its own merits. Disney’s movie ends very differently than Andersen’s and really should.


2. TIME magazine movie critic Richard Corliss recently listed his top 25 best animated films. Most of the list was dominated by recent films. How do you believe the digitally animated films of today compare with the traditional classics of the past?

Brandie: I think Pixar proved back in 1995 with the first Toy Story film that digital animation has the potential to have as much heart and artistic value as the traditionally-animated films that preceded such technological innovation. That being said, not every studio that jumps on the digital animation bandwagon can produce the same level of films as such stalwarts of animation history as Pinocchio, Bambi, Cinderella, etc. As beautiful and thrilling as digital animation can be, if the story is not strong (Alpha and Omega, Igor) and the characters are uninteresting (Space Chimps, Planet 51) or too broadly comedic (Open Season, Over the Hedge, Madagascar), all the technical "razzle dazzle" in the world is not going to make such movies stand the test of time like their predecessors. But movies like Up, WALL-E, The Incredibles and Ratatouille (both of which Corliss ridiculously left off his list), Finding Nemo, the first two Shrek films, and the three Toy Story movies--all of which combine great characterization and storytelling with wit and sheer joy--will, I believe, be among those that will be considered undisputed classics in the future.

Alex: The Walt Disney Animation Studio throughout the years seemed to have their finger on the pulse of what moviegoers wanted to see until about the mid-late 1990’s. Many cite The Lion King as the end of the second golden age. I personally love all of the films from the 1990’s and feel the decline really started in the early 2000’s. I wouldn’t say that any of those films are truly bad (yes, I even enjoy aspects of Home on the Range), but the quality of these films certainly doesn’t match up to most of their predecessors. Even though Pixar is owned by Disney, Walt Disney Animation Studio seemed to be competing with mediocre pictures like Chicken Little and Meet the Robinsons. Now the John Lasseter oversees both studios, this seems to have stopped and Disney is getting back to making films that people want to see. I think a few of the more recent films could go on to become classics, particularly Lilo & Stitch and Tangled. Bolt and The Princess and the Frog were good, but left something to be desired. They could, however, grow in popularity over the years and become true classics. After all, Alice in Wonderland and Sleeping Beauty were both box office bombs when first released. Only time will truly tell.

Toto: Story and direction will win out over flawless look for me any time. Sometimes the pristine quality of digital films can be marred by old or damaged theatre screens.


3. If you could spend a day with one Disney animated character, who (or what) would it be?

Brandie: Genie from Aladdin (1992). I want those three wishes, man!

Alex: I’ve always been intrigued by characters from Fantasia since they never speak (except when Mickey Mouse approaches Deems Taylor). In particular, Yensid, the sorcerer whose name is Disney spelled backwards. I’d love to know his story and how Mickey came to be his apprentice. His face is so stern that he could almost be a villain. While he may not be as fun as some of the more loveable characters in Disney’s cannon, I expect he would be interesting (and hopefully I could try on his really cool hat!).

Toto: I would love to spend a day with the beautiful horse, Maximus, from Tangled. He is brave, intelligent, and faithful. Unlike other Disney animals, Maximus doesn’t speak, yet he is a very good listener and excellent judge of character. He also has a most endearing personality. I think I would have a wonderful day with him and would have to share my time with my sisters Jane and Shelley and nieces Nina and Kara, who all love horses.