Jimmy Takes a Vacation, Clint Fights a Grizzly, and George Gobel Channels Henry Fonda

Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation (1962). In the best of his 1960s family comedies, James Stewart plays Roger Hobbs, a successful St. Louis banker who has spent too much time in the office. His plans for a quiet vacation are dashed when he learns that his wife Peggy (Maureen O'Hara) has invited the entire family for a a month on the California coast. The clan includes teenage children Katey and Danny, adult daughters Susie and Janie, their husbands, the grandchildren, and the grumpy family housekeeper. To make matters worse, when the Hobbs arrive at their beach house, they find a dump with rotted-out steps, no water pressure, and mounds of dust. Furthermore, except for Peggy, no one wants to be there.

Lauri Peters and Fabian.

Fortunately, this is one of those 1960s comedies where it's inevitable that everything will work out in the end. Thus, Roger spends the summer reconnecting with each of his children in unexpected ways. Veteran screenwriter Nunnally Johnson sneaks in a few offbeat touches, such as Roger referring to his grandson as "the little creep." Still, Mr. Hobbs is a formula picture and a very long one at that (clocking in at almost two hours). Its modest success can be attributed to its likable (and interesting) cast. The supporting players include: teen heartthrob Fabian; Lauri Peters, who was Tony-nominated as one of the Von Trapp children in the original production of The Sound of Music and later married Jon Voight; and Marie Wilson, who played the title role in Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis' film debut My Friend Irma.

The Night of the Grizzly (1966). Until viewing this film recently, I could have sworn it was about a frontier family fending off a night-long grizzly bear attack. Well, The Night of the Grizzly does feature a frontier family and there's a grizzly--but the plot similarities end there. Instead, we get Clint Walker as Big Jim Cole, who has just moved his family to the town of Hope after inheriting Grandpappy's 640-acre farm ("the richest section of land in the whole territory"). To Big Jim's dismay, he discovers the house needs major repairs and that Grandpappy owed $175 on a $500 loan. The Cole family's problems don't end there: mean Jed Curry (Keenan Wynn) wants the property and Big Jim's livestock are being killed by a 1500-pound grizzly named Satan ("he just kills for the wicked fun of it").

Gypsy--after the skunk encounter.

With exteriors shot in scenic San Bernardino National Forest, The Night of the Grizzly aims to be a family film along the lines of Old Yeller. There are amusing scenes (six-year-old Gypsy eating by herself after being sprayed by a skunk) to go along with the grizzly encounters. Unfortunately, there are too few of the latter--for a movie with a ferocious bear in the title, there are not enough scenes with the "savage, senseless killer." All that remains is a perfunctory frontier family saga that wastes nice turns by Leo Gordon and Jack Elam. Gordon plays an ex-convict that hates Big Jim, but has a soft spot for Jim's son Charlie (Kevin Brodie). Elam portrays another of his grizzled town layabouts who develops a sweet friendship with little Gypsy (Victoria Paige Meyerink).

George Gobel and Mitzi Gaynor.

The Birds and the Bees (1956). After a lengthy expedition in the Congo, George Hamilton II--the heir to the Hamilton Hotdogs empire--boards an ocean liner to return home to Connecticut. Buried in his books and preoccupied with his pet snake Emma, George is oblivious to all the young, fortune-hunting women pursuing him--that is, until he trips (literally) over Jean Harris. The naive George falls hard for Jean--not realizing that she and her father are con artists after his money.

Niven as a card sharp.

Wait a minute, you say! Didn't I just describe the plot to Preston Sturges' The Lady Eve? You're right, of course, The Birds and the Bees is a semi-musical remake of the Sturges classic with Mitzi Gaynor as Jean, George Gobel as George, and David Niven as Jean's father. While Sturges purists may argue with the casting, Mitzi Gaynor (who has never looked lovelier) gives one of her best performances as the con artist who falls in love with her target. Personally, it took me awhile to warm up to George Gobel's doe-eyed protagonist, but his innate low-key charm eventually won me over. Still, one's opinion on this remake will likely hinge on whether you accept Gobel in the Henry Fonda role.

One of television's first big stars in the 1950s, George Gobel had little success on the big screen. However, he continued to be a mainstay on television, whether showing up as a Tonight Show guest or appearing as a regular for several years on The Hollywood Squares.

Short Takes with Charles Laughton, Cowboys & Dinosaurs, and Neil Simon

This Land Is Mine - When the Nazis invaded France during World War II, acclaimed filmmaker Jean Renoir relocated to the United States. Renoir, son of the Impressionist painter Auguste Renoir, had already completed what would become his masterpiece, 1939's Rules of the Game. Unlike fellow refugee director Fritz Lang, Renoir never found his groove in Hollywood. Still, his first English-language film, This Land Is Mind, is a heartfelt, patriotic story of a timid schoolteacher (Charles Laughton) in a small European village occupied by Nazis. Maureen O'Hara, George Sanders, and Una O'Connor lead a strong supporting cast.

The Valley of Gwangi - Ray Harryhausen's imaginative mix of Western and fantasy overcomes a leisurely first half en route to 45 minutes of almost non-stop cowboys vs. dinosaurs action. While it can't stand alongside Harryhausen classics like Jason and the Argonauts, the special effects in 1969's Gwangi are excellent--especially the climatic T-Rex rampage. The scene where the cowboys lasso the T-Rex took stop-motion animator Harryhausen five months to film. Willis O'Brien, King Kong's creator and Harryhausen's mentor, conceived Gwangi in 1942, but RKO abandoned the production.

The Goodbye Girl - Playwright Neil Simon penned this winning romantic comedy as a vehicle for his then-wife Marsha Mason. She plays the title character, a single mother recently jilted by her latest lover. To make matters worse, she learns that her NYC apartment has been subleased to Dreyfuss, a struggling actor. Simon wisely keeps sentiment to a minimum, while allowing his outwardly brash characters to reveal their inner insecurities. Mason is good, if a bit too theatrical, but Dreyfuss hits all the right notes in his Oscar-winning performance. Quinn Cummings, as Mason’s wise-beyond-her-years daughter, delivers most of Simon’s trademark zingers. She, Mason, Simon, and the film all earned Oscar nominations. David Gates, formerly of the rock group Bread, wrote and performed the memorable title tune, which peaked at #15 on the Billboard chart.

Rio Bravo: Howard Hawk's "Response" to High Noon

The classic status attributed to Howard Hawks' Rio Bravo (1959) has always puzzled me. While it's a solid, well-done Western, it doesn't rank with the best Westerns of the 1950s (e.g., Shane, The Hanging Tree, 3:10 to Yuma, the Anthony Mann-James Stewart collaborations, etc.). It's also not as good as the movie that allegedly inspired it: High Noon.

Hawks, who disliked High Noon, famously said: "I didn't think a good sheriff was going to go running around town like a chicken with his head off asking for help, and finally his Quaker wife had to save him." Thus, Rio Bravo is often considered to be Hawks' and John Wayne's cinematic response to High Noon.

Dean Martin as Dude.

The plot is simple: Sheriff John T. Chance (Wayne) arrests Joe Burdette when the latter guns down a man in cold blood. Joe's brother, Nathan (John Russell from TV's Lawman) "bottles up" the town and hires a bunch of professional gunfighters to spring Joe from jail. That leaves Chance, his elderly deputy Stumpy (Walter Brennan), and his alcoholic former deputy Dude (Dean Martin) to guard Joe until a marshal arrives in six weeks. One of Chance's friends states it eloquently: "A game-legged old man and a drunk? That's all you got?"

In Hawks' world, though, that's all that Chance wants. Unlike Will Kane (Gary Cooper) in High Noon, Chance doesn't solicit help. It's not the job of married men with families to face hired guns. That's what Chance was hired to do (although he does eventually accept help from a young fast gun played by Ricky Nelson). This exaggerated view of public service lends a little thematic density to an otherwise lightweight plot.

A brown-haired Angie Dickinson.

Leigh Brackett and Jules Furthman, who co-wrote Hawks' The Big Sleep (with William Faulkner), certainly provide a quotable screenplay. After Chance and con woman Feathers (Angie Dickinson) follow up their first kiss with a sequel, she quips: "I'm glad we tried it a second time. It's better when two people do it." Granted, it's a line that seems more appropriate for The Big Sleep than a Western--but it's still entertaining. Indeed, Feathers seems to be a character lifted from a late 1940s film noir, as evidenced by the following exchange in which Chance confronts her with a "wanted" poster:

Feathers: This isn't the first time that handbill has come up. I'd like to know what to do about it.

Chance: Well, you could quit playing cards...wearing feathers.

Feathers: No, sheriff. No, I'm not going to do that. You see...that's what I'd do if I were the kind of girl that you think I am.

Dickinson and Dean Martin stand out in the cast. She hits all the right notes as the sassy Feathers, who keeps missing the stagecoach out of town because she has finally found a man that interests her. Martin has a more difficult role, playing a drunk trying to sober up in the middle of a life-threatening situation. He's quite effective in the film's first half before getting cleaned up a little too quickly for the big climax. As for Wayne and Brennan, they plays roles that each has done at least a half-dozen times.

Ricky Nelson as Colorado.

That brings us to Ricky Nelson, who seems miscast as Colorado, the young gunfighter. Still, he tries hard and it helps that he doesn't have a lot of lines. He does fine in the singing department when he and Dino duet on the memorably-titled "My Rifle, My Pony, and Me" (which Dimitri Tiomkin adapted from his own theme for Red River). Allegedly, Elvis Presley was interested in playing Colorado, but his business manager Colonel Tom Parker nixed the idea.

Director Howard Hawks, who was a master at crafting lean movies, surprisingly lets Rio Bravo drift along at a leisurely 141 minutes. He still musters some exciting action scenes, although his best set piece contains little action and comes at the beginning of the film. Rio Bravo opens with a four-minute scene with no dialogue, but contains plenty of information. We learn that Dean's character is a drunk that will stoop to anything for a drink. We see the murder committed by Joe Burdette that sets the film's plot in motion. And we see that the townsfolk, after witnessing a senseless murder, are too intimidated to do anything about it.

Interestingly, Hawks, Wayne, and screenwriter Brackett teamed up again seven years later for the semi-remake El Dorado. This time around, Wayne is a gunfighter, Robert Mitchum is an alcoholic sheriff, and James Caan is a young gun named Mississippi. It's not as good as Rio Bravo, but, like its predecessor, is a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours.

Seven Things to Know About James Robertson Justice

1. James Robertson Justice's most famous role was as Dr. Lancelot Spratt, the blustery chief surgeon at St. Swithin's Hospital in the British Doctor movies. He first appeared as Spratt in 1954's Doctor in the House, with Dirk Bogarde playing handsome medical student Simon Sparrow. Justice played Spratt in five sequels that starred either Bogarde or Leslie Phillips.As the film series progressed, Spratt evolved from a supporting character to co-lead in entries like Doctor in Distress (1963).

2. Although Lancelot Spratt did not appear in the second Doctor film, Doctor at Sea, Justice still returned opposite Dirk Bogarde. In this outing, Justice played Captain Wentworth Hogg, who ran a cargo ship...very much like Dr. Spratt ran St. Swithin's. Young physician Simon Sparrow didn't seem to mind--he was too busy romancing Brigitte Bardot!

3. When he was 17, Justice played for the Beckenham Rugby Club during the 1924-25 season. One of his teammates was Johnnie Craddock, who became famous working alongside his wife Fanny, a celebrity cook. Justice later worked briefly as a journalist at Reuters--as did James Bond author Ian Fleming. Many years later, Justice appeared in the 1968 adaptation of Fleming's children novel Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang.

4. James Robertson Justice co-starred with Gregory Peck in four movies: Captain Horatio Hornblower (1951); David and Bathsheba (1951); Moby Dick (1956); and The Guns of Navarone (1961). In Moby Dick, he played Captain Boomer, who lost an arm to the white whale pursued by Peck's Captain Ahab.

5. He co-starred with Richard Todd in three movies produced by Walt Disney in the early 1950s. He played Little John to Todd's Robin in The Story of Robin Hood and His Merrie Men (1952). He and Todd then re-teamed for The Sword and the Rose and Rob Roy: The Highland Rogue. Both pictures were made in 1953 and also featured the delightful Glynis Johns.

6. Although Justice claimed he was born in Wigtown or Skye Island, Scotland, most sources list South London as his birth place. Regardless, he embraced his Scottish heritage and was Rector of the University of Edinburgh for two three-year terms in 1957 and 1963. The Rector heads the university's highest governing body and is elected by the students and staff. Other famous people to hold the Rector office at the University of Edinburgh are Winston Churchill and Alastair Sim.

7. Justice was married twice. His son, James, died in 1949 at the age of four in a drowning accident. He met actress Irena von Meyendorff, a real-life Baroness, while making The Ambassadress in 1961. They became lovers, later appeared together in Mayerling (1968), and were wed three days before Justice died in 1975 from complications from a stroke.

This post is part of the What a Character! Blogathon hosted by Once Upon a Screen, Paula's Cinema Club, and Outspoken & Freckled. Click here for the full schedule of posts that celebrate cinema's great character actors.

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.

We Describe the Movie...You Name It!

This is our 5th edition of this type of quiz. The rules are easy: Name each film below based on our vague description. Be sure to include the question number with your response. Please don't answer all the questions so others can play, too. There is one film that is the single best answer to each description.

1. A guy trying to make it as a tobacco farmer romances three women.

2. Two guys dress up like girls and lip sync to a record to buy some time.

3. Honeymoon couple unwisely accepts an invitation to a masquerade ball.

4. Sort of a predecessor to Kramer vs. Kramer--and the lead only sings the theme song.

5. A mermaid and a sweet girl are both attracted to a bone-headed guy.

6. In this 1960 film, a woman goes to a hotel and vanishes. Her sibling investigates. Oh, and it's not Psycho.

7. A renegade cop and a tough prostitute borrow a bus.

8. A clergyman and a former swimmer are among the attendees at a big New Year's Eve bash.

9. The first of four films about homicidal fruit.

10. Misinterpretation of a dying man's words highlights the importance of punctuation and shows why homonyms can be challenging.

11. A World War II vet suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome is happily reunited with a young girl named Kathie.

12. A 1970s family musical set in England that features a Broadway star, kids, songs, and animated animals. There are no nuns, nor actresses who played nuns, though people do fly.

13. In the original version of this film, a little girl is spanked in a scene tacked on after the ending.

14. Woman "tames" husband by treating him like a dog.

15. Interesting mystery that opens with a man being murdered after a game of poker. Did I mention this movie's a Western?

The Five Best Made-for-TV Horror Movies

What's Halloween without a post on classic fright films? This year, we are paying homage to the best horror films made specifically for television. And since this is a classic movie blog, all of our choices were broadcast no later than the 1980s. Hey, that's the classic era for made-for-TV movies anyway!

1. Gargoyles - A rare network TV-movie excursion into visual horror, Gargoyles opens with a prologue that explains the ancient creatures are the devil's offspring and are reborn every 600 years. They exist to “battle against man to gain dominion of the earth.” This theme closely parallels horror writer H.P. Lovecraft's mythos, in which creatures known as The Old Ones lurk in a parallel world, waiting to regain control of this world from mankind. Set in Mexico, Gargoyles is a lively, entertaining film with solid performances by Cornel Wilde, Bernie Casey (as the lead gargoyle), Scott Glenn, and Grayson Hall (Dark Shadows, The Night of the Iguana).

2. Dark Intruder - Some of you may quibble with this choice since it's more mystery than horror and was originally intended as a theatrical release. That said, there is a monster and it boasts some eerie scenes on the foggy streets of San Francisco (with no Karl Malden). Leslie Nielsen plays a wealthy "chronic dabbler" who investigates a series of ritualistic murders tied to a Sumerian god representing the essence of evil. To give away any more of the surprisingly complex (and, at times, again Lovecraftian) plot would spoil the fun. There are two other made-for-TV movies that also mix mystery and horror effectively: Spectre starring Robert Culp and The Norliss Tapes with Roy Thinnes.

3. The Night Stalker - Darren McGavin stars as Carl Kolchak, a pesky reporter who investigates a series of Las Vegas murders where the victims are drained of blood. Initially, Kolchak believes that the culprit imagines himself to be a vampire—but eventually the reporter comes to realize that the killer is a modern-day vampire. Versatile horror/fantasy author Richard Matheson (I Am Legend, Duel) co-wrote this fast-paced blend of chills and humor set in Las Vegas. Unlike traditional bloodsuckers, Matheson made his vampire (played by Barry Atwater) a contemporary villain with superhuman strength and the wiles to survive in modern society (e.g., he steals blood from a hospital). This is probably the most famous made-for-TV horror film. It was also a huge ratings hit and spawned a sequel (The Night Strangler) and a TV series.

4. Trilogy of Terror - A trio of Richard Matheson short stories formed the basis for this anthology film which starred the late Karen Black in all three segments. The first tales, "Julie" and "Millicent and Therese" are interesting, especially the latter which offers a nice twist ending. However, it's the third segment, "Amelia," that earned Trilogy of Terror its reputation as a creepy classic. Black plays Amelia, a single woman who has purchased a Zuni doll with razor-sharp teeth and a spear. The doll supposedly houses the spirit of a Zuni warrior known as "He Who Kills." When Amelia is alone in her apartment, the doll comes alive and attacks her. She apparently destroys it--but all is not what it seems. Black is excellent in all three segments, especially the final one. And if all three tales had been as good as "Amelia," this film would have occupied the #1 slot.

5. Satan's School for Girls - This admittedly cheesy 1973 flick about mysterious deaths at a girls' school has earned a minor cult reputation because of its cast and plot similarity to Dario Argento's later Suspiria. It also boasts some bona fide scares. Pamela Franklin stars as a teen investigating her sister's apparent suicide at the Salem Academy for Women (just that name doesn't bode well in a horror movie). You'd think the school would shut down after another suicide, but it doesn't--which provides time for Franklin's character to discover the secret room in the cellar! The cast includes future Charlie's Angels Kate Jackson and Cheryl Ladd, plus Jo Van Fleet, Roy Thinnes (again), and Lloyd Bochner. Interestingly, the same year, Pamela Franklin also starred in the theatrical film The Legend of Hell House.

Billy Wilder and Jack the Ripper Take on Sherlock Holmes

The 1970s featured two revisionist takes on Sherlock Holmes: The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes was released in 1970 and Murder By Decree appeared at the end of the decade. While neither film is wholly successful, they each boast a lot of star power either in front of or behind the camera. They also overcome convoluted conspiracy plots and miscast actors to justify a couple of hours of your time.

Murder By Decree opens atmospherically with the sounds of London--a dog barking, a baby crying, distant bells--accompanying a heavy fog. A quick scene at a local theatre, in which the Prince of Wales is jeered by the crowd, indicates a tumultuous political climate. Shortly thereafter, we experience the third of a recent series of Whitechapel murders through the eyes of the killer. 

Before you can say "Elementary, my dear Watson," the Baker Street sleuth (Christopher Plummer) and his companion (James Mason) are delving into a labyrinthine plot that involves Jack the Ripper, 33rd-degree members of the Secret Order of the Free Masons, a possible psychic, and a "decadent monarchy."

Holmes in disguise.

With an assist from screenwriter John Hopkins, Plummer transforms Holmes into an athletic hero who uses a weighted scarf as a weapon (sort of like a bola). He also makes jokes at Watson's expense and sheds tears at human injustice. It's a far cry from the more conventional Sherlocks portrayed by Basil Rathbone, Peter Cushing, and Jeremy Brett. There's certainly an audience for different Holmes interpretations, as shown by the success of Robert Downey, Jr.'s films, but one's appreciation for Murder By Decree will hinge largely on whether you accept Plummer as Holmes.

Holmes as action hero?

Plotwise, Murder By Decree squanders an interesting premise by layering it with too many complexities. It's also not the first film to pit Holmes against Jack the Ripper. A Study in Terror, a tidy 1965 mystery, holds that distinction (and also features a fine John Neville performance as Holmes). Interestingly, Frank Finlay played Inspector Lestrade in both A Study in Terror and  Murder By Decree. The 2001 Jack the Ripper film From Hell, although based on a graphic novel, shares some plot similarities with Murder By Decree (though there's nary a Sherlock Holmes to be found).

There's no Ripper to be found in Billy Wilder's ambitious The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes. It opens 50 years after Watson's death when a new manuscript is discovered in a sealed box in a bank. The document contains a letter from Watson, in which he states that in addition to his published Holmes stories, "there were other adventures which, for reasons of discretion, I have decided to withhold from the public until this much later date." 

Robert Stephens as Holmes.

Wilder and distributor United Artists originally intended The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes to be a three-hour "road show" attraction. However, such motion picture "events" were being phased out (one problem was that lengthy films often generated less profit because they could only be shown twice daily...in the days before multiplexes). As a result, the film was edited down to 125 minutes by removing two stories: the 15-minute "The Dreadful Business of the Naked Honeymooners" and the half-hour "The Curious Case of the Upside Down Room."

The two tales that remain are a mixed bag. The first is a slightly amusing, albeit silly, story of a ballerina offering to pay Holmes for a week of lovemaking so that she can conceive a child genius. She points out that Holmes was not her first choice, but there were problems with Tolstoy, Tchaikovsky, and Nietzsche. Not wishing to offend, Holmes implies that he and Watson are more than just friends--an insinuation that Watson fears will destroy his reputation.

The second tale starts with the appearance of a mysterious amnesiac woman and spirals into a mystery that involves a missing mining engineer, peculiar monks, midgets, the Loch Ness monster, and a conspiracy headed by none other than Sherlock's older brother Mycroft (Christopher Lee). Its outcome is a letdown, but there are delights along the way, such as the stunning Scottish scenery.

Blakely as Dr. Watson.

In fact, the same can be said of The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes in general. Wilder never quite finds the right tone, but Robert Stephens is a delightful Holmes (unfortunately, Colin Blakely's overexcited Watson is a liability). Wilder and his frequent screenwriting partner I.A.L. Diamond have a grand time debunking some of Holmes' famous traits. For example, Sherlock wears the deerstalker hat solely because the public expects to see him in it. Holmes blames Watson's magazine stories, while Watson claims it was The Strand's illustrator that added the now-famous head apparel.

The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes is a first-rate production, from the period sets to Miklos Rozsa's lovely score. Still, it was neither a popular nor critical success at the time of its release, though critics have grown more appreciative over the years. Billy Wilder would go on to direct four more films, the last one being Buddy Buddy in 1981.

Hammer Halloween Blogathon: The Plague of the Zombies

The villain appears in a pre-title
sequence--but he's masked.

Dr. Peter Tompson's medical practice in a small Cornish village has not gone well--that will happen when 13 patients die suddenly within a year of one's arrival. The baffled physician writes a letter to his former medical professor, Sir James Forbes, stating: "Our village has been beset by a number of mysterious and fatal maladies...the victims have no will to live." Sir James' daughter Sylvia, a friend of Peter's wife, suggests an impromptu visit.

A frightened Alice.

Following their arrival, Sir James learns that things are worse than described. A group of aristocratic young men, affiliated with the local squire, run roughshod over the town. The frightened villagers distrust the new visitors. And, worst of all, Peter's wife Alice looks pale, displays a loss of appetite, and acts very defensive about the unusual cut on her hand. She also seems to have an obsessive interest in the handsome and wealthy Squire Hamilton.

Released in 1966, The Plague of the Zombies exhibits all the traits that made Hammer Films synonymous with horror cinema: a strong cast; an atmospheric setting; an interesting plot; and production values that disguise the modest budget.

Andre Morell as Sir James.

The cast in Plague is anchored by Andre Morell, a classically trained actor who worked on the British stage with the likes of John Gielgud, Alec Guinness, and Robert Donat. Morell made his Hammer debut in 1959 as one of the screen's finest Dr. Watsons opposite Peter Cushing's Sherlock Holmes in The Hound of the Baskervilles. Morell brings his authoritative presence to the role of Sir James--a perfect counterpart to the charming villain played by John Carson. The best supporting performance belongs to Jacqueline Pearce as the vulnerable Alice.

Director John Gilling filmed The Plague of the Zombies back-to-back with The Reptile. The films also share the same crew, the same setting, and some of the same performers (the most prominent of which is Pearce, who plays a more significant role in The Reptile). A journeyman director, Gilling brings surprising visual flair to The Plague of the Zombies. He employs an effective blue color scheme--from the deep-blue night sky to the blue-tinted zombies. The first zombie appearance is played for chills as the creature--almost silhouetted again the sky--tosses a woman's corpse toward Sylvia. Another effective scene has hands rising up out of the earth.

The only thing that keeps Plague from ranking with Hammer's best is the derivative nature of the plot. Although Hammer attempts to mask it with a different setting and better acting, a key element of the plot--why the squire wants to turn people into zombies--appears to have been lifted from the 1932 Bela Lugosi film White Zombie.

Hammer released The Plague of the Zombies on a double-bill with Dracula: Prince of Darkness, a fair entry in its usually entertaining Dracula series with Christopher Lee. The poster promised vampire fangs for the young male movie theatre patrons--so they could "bite back." The girls in the audience got "zombie glasses" to defend themselves. I'm still pondering the zombie glasses...it's pretty easy to recognize a zombie (especially if they're tinted blue and move in a lumbering fashion). So, I'm not sure if those glasses really provide much in the way of zombie protection.

This post is part of the Hammer Halloween Blogathon hosted by the Classic Film & TV Café. Click here view the complete blogathon schedule.

Hammer Halloween Blogathon: Blood from the Mummy's Tomb

In 1959, Hammer released The Mummy, another remake of a Universal classic, to follow The Curse of Frankenstein and Horror of Dracula (aka Dracula). Like its predecessors, The Mummy was a stylish, gothic rendering filled with action, shocks and topnotch performances from Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. But quite unlike the previous two, sequels were slow to follow and weren’t nearly as memorable. The Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb (1964) was a sluggish B-movie, while The Mummy’s Shroud (1967), admittedly a vast improvement over Curse, is still largely unremarkable. Seth Holt’s Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb (1971) would prove to be a much different film.

Tera in her sarcophagus

An archaeological team unearths an ancient tomb in Egypt, in which resides the body of a priestess. The decision to disturb the tomb has dire results even before they take relics – the wife of Fuchs (Andrew Keir) dies giving birth to the couple’s daughter, Margaret, at the same time the discovery is made. Years later, Margaret (Valerie Leon) is the mirror image of Tera (Leon again), the Egyptian priestess, whose perfectly preserved remains lie in a sarcophagus in Fuchs’ basement, a recreation of the tomb. Margaret’s birthday is looming, and it’s the ideal time for Tera’s resurrection, her lost soul collecting her purloined relics, as well as the lives of the people who are holding them. 

This tomb doesn't look inviting.

Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb, adapted from Bram Stoker’s novel, The Jewel of Seven Stars, is a stellar film, drenched in atmosphere and a markedly somber tone. There’s nothing to marvel in the Egyptian tomb--it’s dark and dank, like the place of death that it is. The nights are covered in fog; a mental institution, where one of the archaeological team winds up, is a place of long corridors and deep shadows; and Margaret stands in never-ending gusts of wind without a visible source.

This relentlessly spooky ambiance comes through characters and performances as well. Dandridge (Hugh Burden) is petrified when he sees the grown Margaret, before the audience knows the full story of Tera (“It was her… She who has no name”). Corbeck (James Villiers) is hiding in a seemingly abandoned house across the street from Fuchs. Helen (Rosalie Crutchley), working as a fortune teller, sees a foreboding image of the seven stars (the same seven that form the Big Dipper). Director Holt also gives life to the inanimate relics by way of shadows and their mere presence when people are attacked by something unseen. Even the recurrent image of Tera is chilling, despite spending most of the film lying in a sarcophagus, eyes closed and looking very much dead.

She's tall, too.

Valerie Leon is impressive in the lead. For a good part of the film, Margaret is mesmerized, making return trips to the basement to stare at the priestess or the slowly restored relics. It’s a gradual transformation: she’s initially dazed but eventually it’s hard to tell if Margaret is simply captivated or if Tera has completely possessed her. The beautiful, rather lanky actress – just an inch shy of six feet – either matches her co-stars in height or towers over them. It’s an imposing posture that augments an already marvelous performance.



Peter Cushing was originally cast as Margaret’s father, Fuchs. But he left after just a day of filming because his wife was ill. Director Holt died with a week of shooting remaining, and filming was completed by producer/director Michael Carreras, son of Hammer co-founder James Carreras. Cushing’s wife also died before the production’s end. Carreras’ work on the film is seamless with the scenes already shot by Holt; it certainly doesn’t look like a movie made by two different directors.

Corbeck's hiding place.

Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb wasn’t the only adaptation of the Stoker novel. The 1970 British telefilm, Curse of the Mummy, actually made it to screens (albeit small) first. Later versions included The Awakening (1980), Mike Newell’s feature film debut, with Charlton Heston, Susannah York and a pre­-Remington Steele Stephanie Zimbalist; Fred Olen Ray’s The Tomb (1986), starring John Carradine, Cameron Mitchell and Sybil Danning; and the 1998 straight-to-video Bram Stoker’s Legend of the Mummy (aka Bram Stoker’s The Mummy) with Louis Gossett, Jr. and featuring Aubrey Morris playing a doctor, much like his character in Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb. Margaret’s boyfriend, played by Mark Edwards, is named Tod Browning after the director of another Stoker adaptation, Universal’s classic 1931 Dracula.



Leon, unfortunately, was not cast in leading roles very often. She also starred in a number of Hammer’s Carry On movies and had appearances in both an official and unofficial Bond film – she was a hotel receptionist in The Spy Who Loved Me (1977) with Roger Moore and one of Bond’s conquests in 1983’s Never Say Never Again with Sean Connery. Villiers starred in a Bond film as well, For Your Eyes Only (1981), as the MI6 Chief of Staff; he and Geoffrey Keen as the Minister of Defence were essentially sharing the role of M, after the script was rewritten due to the death of the original M, Bernard Lee. Villiers, however, did not appear in future 007 outings. Actor Morris specialized in cult films, also cropping up in Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange (1971) and Robin Hardy’s The Wicker Man (1973).

Alleys: Just as spooky as tombs.

Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb did not receive much notice or acclaim when first released--it was released as a double-bill in support of Roy Ward Baker’s Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde. But it has since gone on to become a cult film. It is definitely one of Hammer’s best – a mummy film so gripping and moody that it didn’t even need the iconic bandage-wrapped figure. Just a tall, radiant, alluring woman. In a coffin.



This post is part of the Hammer Halloween Blogathon hosted by the Classic Film & TV Café. Click here view the complete blogathon schedule.

Bad Movie Theatre: Jerry Lewis Pays a "Visit to a Small Planet"

This review isn't about Charo and
The Concorde...Airport '79.

I originally intended to review The Concorde...Airport '79 in this column. I actually watched that debacle because of its notoriety as an awful movie. After all, Roger Ebert included it in his book I Hated, Hated, Hated This Movie (he doesn't review the film, but addresses one incredulous scene). However, I ultimately decided that the makers of The Concorde must have made a bad movie on purpose. I mean, I like Charo, but when you film a scene of her smuggling a chihuahua aboard an airplane--well, it's obvious that you knew what you were doing. We don't pander to the makers of bad movies at the Cafe, so that's all the press we'll devote to The Concorde... Airport '79 (for reviews of Airport 1975 and Airport '77, click here.)

I apologize for the digression. Let us shift our attention to Visit to a Small Planet. It's also a bad movie, but clearly not intended as such. Acclaimed playwright and author Gore Vidal, who penned The Best Man (a favorite), originally wrote Visit to a Small Planet in 1955 for the Goodyear Television Playhouse. He adapted it for Broadway in 1957, where it ran for almost a year. Cyril Ritchard--best known as Captain Hook opposite Mary Martin's Peter Pan--directed and starred as an alien being who visits Earth. The play earned three Tony nominations: Ritchard for Best Actor in a Play; Eddie Mayehoff for Best Featured Actor in a Play; and Best Scenic Design.

Lewis on the ceiling.

When Paramount decided to mount a film version in 1960, it naturally wanted to cast an established star in the lead. According to a 2012 article for Film Threat, David Niven, Alec Guinness, and Danny Kaye (my pick!) were considered for the role of Kreton the alien. Any of them would have been a better choice than Jerry Lewis--who got the part. Of course, to put things in historical perspective, Lewis was a reliable box-office star in the 1950s and early 1960s. His casting surely seemed like a good idea at the time.

Alas, my friends, I can attest to the fact that the combination of Gore Vidal and Jerry Lewis does not make for a funny movie. Nor even a good one. Of course, one can't really blame Mr. Vidal. I haven't seen the television or Broadway versions of Visit to a Small Planet, but I suspect they featured more social satire than what finally made it to the silver screen.

Kreton mugging in school.

Jerry Lewis plays Kreton as a child-like alien from Planet X47 with an infatuation with the Earth. Ignoring his teacher Delton (John Williams), Kreton sneaks off to visit his favorite planet during the time of the U.S. Civil War. However, he miscalculates by 99 years and lands near Richmond, Virginia, in the year 1960. He first reveals his identity to Major Roger Putnam Spelding (Fred Clark), a TV commentator who recently proclaimed: "Flying saucers--there ain't no such animal." Pretty soon, though, Spelding's whole family knows that Kreton is an alien being, including Roger's daughter Ellen (Joan Blackman) and her goofy boyfriend Conrad (Earl Holliman).

Delton soon tracks down Kreton, but decides to let the younger alien study the Earthings for a short period. However, he cautions Kreton not to "get involved." Naturally, Kreton ignores that advice and, after misinterpreting Joan's kindly actions toward him, he decides that he's in love for the first time (incidentally, love does not exist on X47).

The over-used right ear tug.

From the opening scene, Lewis appears to have no confidence in the screenplay. He resorts to over-the-top mugging whenever a visual gag falls flat. Yes, I realize that mugging was always part of Lewis' shtick, but there's an air of desperation in Visit to a Small Planet. It eventually grows tiresome watching Jerry issue commands by tugging his right ear and flaring his nostrils.The one scene with genuine possibilities--Kreton's visit to a beatnik club called The Hungry Brain--starts out well (seeing Kreton in his spacesuit, a groovy patron observes: "Who laid the threads on you?"). Unfortunately, it segues into a musical number that drones on for too long and deflates any sense of fun.

Blackman, Lewis, and Holliman.

Lewis can't be faulted for everything. Joan Blackman is a dull female lead and Earl Holliman grates as a country bumpkin with a pet goat named Myrtle. Even veteran comedians like Fred Clark and Gale Gordon are incapable of finding a way to salvage the humorless proceedings.

I must admit that I had fond memories of watching Visit to a Small Planet as a youth. Honestly, I thought I was a more discerning film buff even back then. Perhaps, the movie still holds some appeal for juvenile audiences--though I doubt it. Still, if you're a fan, please remember that dissenting opinions are always welcomed at the Cafe!

Jack Lord x 2 = 1st Episode of "Hawaii Five-O" + "Walk Like a Dragon"

One could argue that the first episode of the original Hawaii Five-O TV series was the "pilot" broadcast on CBS on September 20, 1968. While the pilot certainly established the show's premise--and introduced Wo Fat, its most famous villain--it was still a trial run. When the series was given the green light, James MacArthur had replaced Tim O'Kelly as Danny and Richard Denning had taken over from Lew Ayres as the governor.

Louise Troy and Kevin McCarthy.

"Full Fathom Five," shown the week after the pilot's premiere, doesn't feature a villain of Wo Fat's notoriety. However, it does offer Kevin McCarthy--who specialized in slimy characters--as Victor Reese, who teams with his wife (Louise Troy) to scam and then murder lonely women with money. Interestingly, the Five-O team might have never suspected Reese if an attorney hadn't pressured McGarrett to search for a missing heiress. In an effective ironic twist, the heiress turns out to be alive. However, while investigating her disappearance, Danny uncovers ten cases where single women with no close relatives had disappeared at the rate of one per month.

When McGarrett assigns a female detective (Patricia Smith), with no field experience, to go undercover as Reese's next target, Danny takes exception.

DANNY:  I don't like it.

McGARRETT:  Nobody asked you.

Jack Lord as Steve McGarrett.

As with most of the show's episodes, the focus is on the investigation. We don't get a glimpse of the personal lives of McGarrett, Danny, Kam Fong (Chin Ho), or Zulu (Kono). But we do get plenty of stunning Hawaiian scenery, a lively shootout at the climax, and the terrific opening credits (voted #4 all-time in 2010 by TV Guide readers--and it should have ranked higher). Surprisingly, though, McGarrett never utters his signature line: "Book'em, Danno!"

For the record, Jack Lord was a last minute replacement as Steve McGarrett. Creator Leonard Freeman originally wanted Richard Boone (allegedly, Gregory Peck was also in the discussion). Lord's no-nonsense attitude was perfect for the part, though, and he played McGarrett for 12 years, making Hawaii Five-O the longest running detective series prior to Law & Order (which is a hybrid anyway).

Stephen J. Cannell (The Rockford Files, The A-Team) tried to revive Five-O with a 1997 pilot starring Gary Busey and MacArthur, who returned as Danny (now governor of Hawaii!). It didn't sell, but, of course, the 2010 series revival became a hit for CBS.

Jack Lord as Linc.

In 1960, eight years before his signature Five-O role, Jack Lord starred in Walk Like a Dragon, an underrated "B" film written and directed by James Clavell (best known as the author of Shogun). Set in California after the Civil War, it features Lord as Linc Bartlett, a small town freight line owner on a trip to San Francisco. He buys a nineteen-year-old Chinese girl, being sold as a slave, to rescue her from a certain life as a prostitute. He gives the girl, Kim (Nobu McCarthy), her freedom--but she has nowhere to go and still considers Linc her owner. Linc ends up taking Kim and a young Chinese man named Cheng Lu (James Shigeta) to his home town of Jerico--where they all have to cope with the devastating impacts of racial prejudice.

James Shigeta as Cheng Yu.

As in Shogun, Clavell does a masterful job of showing what it's like to be thrust into a totally different culture. He eschews subtitles when the Chinese characters speak, giving the viewer a taste of what it's like to not understand potentially important conversations (incidentally, the Shogun miniseries avoid subtitles as well). In one telling scene, Cheng Lu's uncle speaks in broken English in front of Linc, only to speak it fluently to Cheng Yu in private. He explains to his nephew: "If you want to stay alive, you always have to follow certain rules."

Nobu McCarthy as Kim.

Each of the three main characters struggle with the sudden changes in their lives. Linc realizes he's fallen in love with Kim, but knows their life as a married couple would be a very difficult one. Cheng Lu doesn't want to play by the "rules" like his uncle; he wants to be treated with the same respect as men like Linc. And Kim finds herself caught in the middle, unsure whether to pursue a challenging future with the man she loves or a more traditional one with a man she respects.

Mel Torme--the gunfighter?

The cast is uniformly fine, with Lord giving one of his best performances as the conflicted Linc--although Shigeta steals the film. A major surprise is Mel Torme as Deacon, a Bible-quoting gunfighter dressed in black. It's a fascinating casting choice and, frankly, Mel handles the part well. He also sings the atypical title tune.