Bond Is Forever: “Thunderball”

Getting much needed rest and recovery at a health clinic, agent James Bond (Sean Connery) is so skeptical of a man he encounters that the spy makes a call to MI6. Subsequent investigation uncovers a SPECTRE plot to switch identities with a Vulcan bomber pilot. When the jet bomber is hijacked and its atomic weaponry stolen, MI6 initiates a mission codenamed Thunderball to recover the bombs. Included in the dossier is a photograph of the pilot and his sister, Domino (Claudine Auger), and 007, knowing that the pilot who boarded the Vulcan was an impostor, requests to be reassigned to the Bahamas to trail Domino. Once there, Bond learns that the woman is the mistress of SPECTRE No. 2, Emilio Largo (Adolfo Celi). The agent must covertly inspect Largo’s ship, the Disco Volante, and try to stay ahead of SPECTRE before the nefarious conglomerate can detonate the atomic bombs.

Thunderball (1965) was directed by Terrence Young, who also helmed the first Bond film, Dr. No in 1962, as well as From Russia with Love (1963). There are familiar faces (Bernard Lee as M, Lois Maxwell as Moneypenny and Desmond Llewelyn as Q) and familiar elements (various gadgets and the beautiful Aston Martin), but Thunderball also plays with conventions and expectations. For instance, Bond is asked his name a few times but never responds with his popular, “Bond... James Bond,” instead saying James Bond or simply Bond. Additionally, he enters the office at MI6 headquarters and is clearly prepared to toss his hat toward the coat rack, only to see his target next to the door. In a similar vein, CIA agent and Bond pal Felix Leiter is introduced to the audience before 007 sees him. Bond knows him, but viewers, in actuality, do not, as Rik Van Nutter is the third actor in as many movies to portray Leiter. Therefore, the audience fears the mysterious man shadowing the British agent, almost as if the film is mocking the ever-changing role.
One of the best ways in which Thunderball challenges the series’ conventions is the Bond villainess Fiona Volpe (Luciana Paluzzi). Volpe is an amalgamation of Bond Girls and Bond Villains, more seductive than Rosa Klebb of From Russia with Love and more clearly a villain than Tatiana of the same film and Pussy Galore of Goldfinger (1964). She is introduced in the film in a nightgown, lying in bed (and equated with Bond, who was in bed with a female in the previous scene). Moments later, she is in the same room with a dead man, a man in uniform, and a man with a gun, but she is undeniably the person in charge (and still wearing her nightgown). Throughout the film, she is dressed in bright, pastel colors, but her actions contradict her dainty apparel, as she races in her Ford Mustang at 100 mph (making her passenger, Bond, visibly anxious) and brandishes a shotgun (expertly hitting the clay targets). Volpe is an assassin, but like 007, who is licensed to kill, the notions of sex and violence are interchangeable (further exemplified by Bond, even in 1965, being dubbed “Mr. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” in Europe and Japan). But it is Volpe who initiates an intimate encounter with Bond (waiting for him in his bathtub), and then subsequently ridicules the agent’s promiscuity, since Volpe did not succumb to his charms. The fiery-haired Paluzzi, who easily outshines the rest of the supporting cast, originally auditioned for the role of Domino. She lost the part but was offered Fiona Volpe, and it is difficult to imagine anyone else in the role.
Martine Beswick, who plays Bond’s “assistant,” Paula, also appeared as a gypsy woman engaged in fisticuffs in From Russia with Love (1963). Italian actor Adolfo Celi also had a role in Mark Robson’s Von Ryan’s Express (1965) and starred in Aldo Lado’s Who Saw Her Die? (aka Chi l’ha vista morire?/1972) with George Lazenby, whose sole portrayal of 007 was 1969’s On Her Majesty’s Secret Service. Actor Robert Rietti (sometimes credited as Rietty), who dubbed Celi’s voice for Thunderball, had a small role in the “unofficial” Bond film, Never Say Never Again (1983). Anthony Dawson and Eric Pohlmann as, respectively, Blofeld’s hands/body and his voice, also shared the role in From Russia with Love (the former also appeared in Dr. No).

The rocket pack utilized by Bond as a means of escape in the pre-credit sequence was the Bell Rocket Belt, a fully functional machine developed by the U.S. Army. The producers originally wanted the debonair Bond to fly it without a helmet, but the pilot who was actually operating the rocket pack refused. O.H.M.S. (On Her/His Majesty’s Service), an officially authorized marking, is witnessed in Thunderball on the dossier Bond receives as O.H.M.S.S., which, of course, stands for On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, the name of a Fleming novel and corresponding adaptation. The title song was originally “Mr. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang” (a reference to Bond’s “name” overseas), recorded by Shirley Bassey and then rerecorded by Dionne Warwick. However, the producers wanted the title and lyrics to reference the film’s title, so the song was rewritten and was performed by Tom Jones.
The year of 1965 also saw the release of The Ipcress File, featuring another British spy, Harry Palmer. Based on a novel by Len Deighton (with a nameless protagonist), the film follows agent Palmer (superbly portrayed by Michael Caine), almost an antithesis to the flamboyant 007. Harry Saltzman produced, and Bond alumni Peter Hunt (editor), John Barry (score), and Ken Adam (production design) were a part of the movie. Two sequels followed, Funeral in Berlin (1966) and Billion Dollar Brain (1967), also starring Caine and produced by Saltzman (Adam was also the production designer for the first sequel). Guy Doleman, who was Count Lippe in Thunderball (the man whom Bond initially suspects at the health clinic), plays Palmer's superior, Colonel Ross, in all three films. Doleman was also the very first Number Two (an ever-changing role) in the cult TV series, The Prisoner. Number Two’s voice, typically featured in the opening credits, was voiced by Rietti in numerous episodes.

The journey to the big screen for Thunderball was one of epic proportions. In 1959, after Ian Fleming had garnered fame with his James Bond novels, the author had worked on an original story for 007’s cinematic debut. Kevin McClory and Jack Whittingham also collaborated on the screenplay. When the project was ultimately abandoned, Fleming wrote a novel based on the story, and in March 1961, McClory, having seen an advanced copy of the book, filed suit. Producers Harry Saltzman and Albert “Cubby” Broccoli acquired rights to the Bond novels and the Bond character, and the plan was to first adapt Thunderball. However, due to the lawsuit, they chose instead to bring Dr. No to movie theater screens. The suit was finally settled out of court, and future publications of the Thunderball novel were to include on the copyright page: “Based on a screen treatment by K. McClory, J. Whittingham and Ian Fleming.”

McClory had also been allowed the rights for a cinematic adaptation, and he made a deal with Saltzman and Broccoli in producing what would be the fourth movie of the Bond series. Richard Maibaum and John Hopkins were given screenplay credit, but McClory and Whittingham were credited (with Fleming) for “original story,” Whittingham for “original screenplay,” and McClory received a credit as a producer. An agreement between EON Productions and McClory maintained that he would not make another adaptation for 12 years. McClory attempted such an adaptation in 1976 but was halted when United Artists filed suit against him. Receiving financing and assistance from producer Jack Schwartzman (actress Talia Shire’s husband) and Warner Bros., McClory was able to produce a Bond film in 1983, Never Say Never Again (released the same year as an “official” entry from EON, Octopussy). McClory’s film was directed by Irvin Kershner, who also helmed the 1980 The Empire Strikes Back (aka Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back), and starred Connery as Bond (the first time he portrayed the fictional agent in 12 years), Kim Basinger as Domino, Barbara Carrera as Fatima Blush (an alternative to Fiona Volpe) and Max von Sydow as Blofeld. The year of 1983 was referred to by the media as “Battle of the Bonds,” and although Octopussy made more money at the box office, both films were successful.

Sadly, the Thunderball legal scrimmage continued. In the 1990s, after years of trying to get Marvel comic book character, Spider-Man, onto movie screens, Sony/Columbia Pictures were awarded rights to Spider-Man via Marvel. MGM/UA disputed this, claiming that, in a previous settlement, it owned all rights related to Spider-Man screenplays and drafts. In retaliation, Sony announced another adaptation of Thunderball, and MGM, fearing substantial loss of the dependable Bond revenue, agreed to a trade-off. (During the legal turmoil, Sony additionally sued MGM with the claim that Kevin McClory had co-authored the film version of Bond, a suit which was dismissed in 2000, as it had not been filed in a timely manner.) Sony released Spider-Man in 2002, and MGM had no worries over a competing Bond movie. In 2005, Sony purchased MGM and the following year released a new Bond film, Casino Royale.

John Stears won an Academy Award for Best Visual Effects for Thunderball. Production designer Ken Adam was nominated for a BAFTA (as well as other Bond films), but lost to himself for The Ipcress File.
I can find little to complain about with Thunderball. It’s a cinematic delight, with topnotch action, glorious villains, and the always reliable Connery. Fiona Volpe is one of my favorite baddies of the Bond series; her surname is Italian for “fox,” and the redheaded Italian actress is most definitely a fox. I think the film only falters in an extended underwater battle sequence. It has a strong start, but eventually just feels like a series of vignettes to highlight snazzy subaquatic attacks and kills. But that’s a minor flub in an otherwise smashing entry to the 007 movies. Any thoughts on Thunderball?

Bond Is Forever will return next month with On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969).

The 1935 “Mutiny on the Bounty” Gets the Blu-ray Treatment

Frank Lloyd’s 1935 adventure-at-sea, Mutiny on the Bounty, starring Charles Laughton, Clark Gable and Franchot Tone, arrives on Warner Bros. Blu-ray today. Inspired by historical events, the movie details a mutiny led by Fletcher Christian (Gable) against the captain of the Bounty, William Bligh (Laughton).

Winner of an Academy Award for Best Picture (the category officially deemed Best Outstanding Production), Mutiny on the Bounty was also nominated for Best Director, Best Film Editing, Best Music (score), and Best Writing, as well as nods for the three leading men (all nominated for Best Actor in a Leading Role, as the Academy would not have a Supporting Actor/Actress category until the following year).

The film was based on a 1932 novel by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall, and was remade in 1962, directed by Lewis Milestone (who also helmed 1960’s Ocean’s 11) and starring Marlon Brando as Fletcher Christian and Trevor Howard as Capt. Bligh. Preceding Lloyd’s movie, there were two Australian films produced based on the incident on the Bounty: a 1916 silent film, The Mutiny of the Bounty, that reportedly has no existing prints; and 1933’s In the Wake of the Bounty, which features Errol Flynn in his screen debut as Fletcher Christian. In 1984, The Bounty was released with Anthony Hopkins as Bligh, Mel Gibson as Christian, Laurence Olivier as Admiral Hood, and early performances from Daniel Day-Lewis and Liam Neeson.

The Mutiny on the Bounty Blu-ray displays sharp, sublime black and white cinematography and an impressive hi-def soundtrack. Considering the film’s age, the images and audio are worthy of praise, and the entire presentation looks and sounds admirable. The single-disc release is packaged in a handsome book format, loaded with publicity stills and trivia. Extra features include an MGM short, “Pitcairn Island Today”, 1936 newsreel of Frank Capra presenting the Oscar to producer Irving Thalberg (who gives a brief word of thanks), and trailers for the film and the 1962 remake. Mutiny on the Bounty in hi-def would make a great gift for the upcoming holidays!

For details on the movie and its production, check out Kim’s Cafe write-up here. For more information on the new release, you can visit the Warner Bros. Blu-ray site.

Warner Bros. provided a copy of this Blu-ray to Classic Film & TV Cafe. Photo stills courtesy of Warner Bros.

Trivia Time - Part 59

Who Am I? I'm an Arizona music legend who scored a Top Ten hit for the film, Because They're Young. I also acted in a few films and a couple of episodes of Have Gun Will Travel. Who Am I?

Who Am I? I began in the theater, and didn't really start to appear in many movies until 1949. I frequently played the mother of the main character, and I tended to steal the show! My career really took after I played the mother of the star of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. In reality, I was only 7 years older than he was. Who Am I?

1. Who was the male star of the film, Because They're Young?

2. For a free pass for the entire month of December, name four members of the "back-up" band on Because They're Young.

3. Who Am I? #2 played her mother twice in movies made in the 1950s. Name the actress in question and the films.

4. Name three actors that Tony Curtis made more than one film with.

5. This famous actor and this famous director made five films together, but only one was a drama. Name them and the drama.

6. Name all directors who made at least 3 movies with Tony Curtis.

7. Tony Curtis made 3 films with this actress (not Janet Leigh!). Name her.

8. In which movie did Tony Curtis make a reference to Jack Lemmon in Some Like It Hot?

9. In the 1940s John Ridgely portrayed a Mountie in two films. Name the films and the stars.

10. Name three things these films have in common: The Fighting 69th and God is My Co-Pilot.

Trivia Time - Part 58 - the Answers

Who Are We? We met by accident at the barbershop at Universal Studios. One of us had just been fired, while the career of the other was on the rise. One of us leaned over to the other and said, "Hey, would you be interested in doing a TV show for me?" Between the two of us, we changed the face of television, films and popular music. Who Are We?

Answer: Blake Edwards and Henry Mancini

3. Name the TV show mentioned in Who Are We?.

Answer: Peter Gunn

4. What do these three films have in common: White Heat, Forever Amber, and Random Harvest?

Answer: Margaret Wycherly

6. Name a great star of stage and screen who had a recurring role as him/herself in this late '60s/early '70s TV series? Name the series, too.

Answer: Ethel Merman, That Girl

7. In this TV series third season opener, it lampooned its major time slot opposition. Name the show and the opposition.

Answer: Rip Tide and Moonlighting

9. Name the other co-stars of the film in #8.

Answer: David Niven, Donald Crisp, Melville Cooper, Barry Fitzgerald

Jean Vigo’s Surrealistic Zero De Conduite (Zero for Conduct)

I am not a big fan of surrealism and this 1933 French film is pretty darn surreal.

Under 45-minutes long, this Jean Vigo film was based on his own childhood experiences in a French boarding school. Vigo examines the struggle between freedom and authority. He uses his own unique style of poetic realism to create an allegory about the way the lower rungs of society view those who hold all the power. It must have been a thinly veiled allegory, because it was quickly banned in France.

The storyline of this film about school children revolting against their teachers plays a secondary role to the visual elements presented by Vigo. At times it can be difficult to determine what is truly taking place. The children have a number of internal thoughts that are presented as happening in the external. It sometimes takes a moment to realize that what has happened is a farce. For example, when the children have their big “revolution” on the school roof and throw garbage and cans at alumnae at an alumni ceremony, it takes you a second to realize that the alumnae are just dressed up dummies—literally.

The most famous image from Zero De Conduite is the slow-motion pillow fight. With feathers slowly floating through the air, the children eerily march as though they are an army caught in a snowstorm. I must admit, this innovative shot makes this film almost bearable—almost.

Not nearly as bad as other surreal “classics”, such as Bunuel’s Un Chien Andalou (1928)http://1001moviesblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/un-chien-andalou-1928.html and L’Age D’Or (1930 http://1001moviesblog.blogspot.com/2010/01/lage-dor-1930.html, Zero De Conduite just isn’t the type of film I enjoy. However, Vigo did make one surrealist film that I do like, L’Atalante (1934). Although Vigo only completed four short films before he died from blood poisoning at age 29, his work was highly influential on the French New Wave. Some critics believe that Francois Truffaut’s 400 Blows was a direct descendant of Zero De Conduite.

Giulietta Masina, a Bright Light in Federico Fellini’s “Nights of Cabiria”

Cabiria (Giulietta Masina) is spending a day with her boyfriend, Giorgio. When they approach a river, Giorgio snatches Cabiria’s purse and pushes the woman into the water. Cabiria is saved from drowning by several locals, but, refusing to believe that Giorgio has simply stolen her money, she returns to her home to find him. Such is the life of Cabiria, who earns her living as a prostitute. She endures hardship and heartbreak, maintaining a firm grasp on the notion that one day she will find a true companion, a generous and selfless man who will shower her with love.

Federico Fellini’s Nights of Cabiria (aka Le notte di Cabiria/1957) is sometimes viewed as a bleak, often depressing film. Cabiria suffers through life’s adversities, which is not always easy to watch, compounded by the fact that she seems naive and so desperate for affection. She encounters men who are disrespectful or self-centered. She wanders into situations which ultimately leave her embarrassed or humiliated. There are times when Cabiria is alone, inside her small house or walking the barren land just outside the city, and a sense of loneliness will betray the woman’s confidence.

But what makes Fellini’s movie anything but a tragedy is Cabiria herself. Despite a childlike exterior, Cabiria is undoubtedly experienced and intelligent. Rather than let herself become overwhelmed with sadness, she retains hope with a smile and a spring in her step. Soon after Giorgio’s treachery, Cabiria is on the streets with others in her profession, dancing to music. Even after another woman insinuates that Giorgio is her man and Cabiria attacks her, the woman’s fury does not linger, and before long, she’s once again dancing in the street. She sees the beauty in so many things, a woman who is proud of the tiny house that she owns and whose happiness cannot be washed away in the pouring rain. The title is certainly appropriate: as the night blankets everything in darkness, Cabiria stands there, forever shining brightly.

Masina, who was married to the director for many years until his death in 1993, was a tremendous actress and provides Nights of Cabiria with a beautiful and unforgettable performance. Many of Fellini’s films either contained a circus or were reminiscent of one, with a motley assortment of characters, each with his/her own distinctive qualities and in a world that had no choice but to embrace every single person. Masina, quite suitably, was much like a clown. She could move from comedy to tragedy with the greatest of ease, and her face was incredibly expressive. Her grins radiate with joy, and her frowns are shrouded in sorrow. Her character in an earlier Fellini film, La strada (1954), played a clown, but that attribute is clear even without the makeup.

In 1998, Nights of Cabiria was restored by Rialto Pictures and was re-released in theaters. In addition to improving the overall quality of the film’s images, a seven-minute sequence with a character usually referred to as “the man with the sack” was included. The previously cut scene involved Cabiria, walking home alone in the early morning, seeing the man pull up in his car. Curious, she watches as he brings food and clothing to people living in what looked to be holes (translated in the subtitles as “caves”). It enhances the film greatly, as Cabiria meets a charitable man who seems to represent what she desires. Likewise, one of the people in the caves is a former prostitute whom Cabiria recognizes, and the woman, once wealthy from the spoils of her profession, is the embodiment of what Cabiria fears.

Nights of Cabiria won an Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, and Masina was awarded the Best Actress prize at the Cannes Film Festival and the Zulueta Prize at the San Sebastián International Film Festival held in Spain. Fellini was awarded the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar three additional times, for La strada, 8½ (1963), and Amarcord (1973). His actress wife was also nominated for a BAFTA for both La strada and Nights of Cabiria.

Nights of Cabiria editor Leo Catozzo, who had worked on other films with Fellini, designed and patented the CIR-Catozzo Self-Perforating Adhesive Tape Film Splicer (sometimes called the CIRO and/or guillotine splicer). He was awarded an Academy Award for Technical Achievement in 1990.

Federico Fellini had begun making films during the movement known as Italian Neorealism, which can essentially be defined as social commentary presented in a realistic manner (e.g., shooting on location, amateur performers, etc.). Certainly later in his career, Fellini moved beyond neorealism, with 8½ as a clear turning point, much more surreal than based in reality. However, even Fellini’s earlier movies rejected the notion of realism. There was a poetic and spiritual quality to his films, and this is prevalent in Nights of Cabiria. The film concludes with a violation of the fourth wall, a lyrical moment which gives the movie bittersweet closure, and just a little more sweet than bitter.

Las Vegas and Its Casinos Don’t Stand a Chance Against “Ocean’s 11”

World War II veterans, members of the 82nd Airborne, are being rounded together for “a, uh... reunion” -- as Roger (Henry Silva) so succinctly puts it to electrician and recently released convict, Tony (Richard Conte). Soon, Danny Ocean (Frank Sinatra) has collected ten of his men, also including Sam (Dean Martin), Josh (Sammy Davis, Jr.), Jimmy (Peter Lawford), Mushy (Joey Bishop), Vince (Buddy Lester), Curly (Richard Benedict), Peter (Norman Fell) and Jackson (Clem Harvey). Ocean finally explains that the “project” is a rather ambitious heist -- to knock off five Vegas casinos on New Year’s Eve, and each man walking away with one million dollars to fill his pockets.

Lewis Milestone’s Ocean’s 11 (1960) features all five members of the so-called “Rat Pack” -- Sinatra, Martin, Davis, Jr., Lawford and Bishop. The film also stars Angie Dickinson as the estranged Mrs. Ocean, Cesar Romero as the shady fiancé of Jimmy’s mother (Ilka Chase), and Russian actor Akim Tamiroff as Spyros Acebos, who helps Danny organize the caper. There are also a few cameos: George Raft as a casino owner, Shirley Maclaine as a woman who’s had a few too many (and is easily distracted by Martin’s character), and a hysterical Red Skelton as himself, who makes a scene when the casino refuses to take his check (since he has clearly hit his limit).

Ocean’s 11 is not memorable solely for the cast. It also emphasizes lively characters and an exceptional plot. Ostensibly dropped in the midst of a story already begun, the audience is immediately presented with a multitude of individuals, generally discussing a scheme of some sort (referred to as an operation, a picnic, etc.). Some of the men are looking for others, almost like a chase, which is fitting for viewers who may feel as if they’re trying to keep up with the little details they’ve been provided. The film is nearly halfway complete when Danny reveals what the men will be doing.

Many of Ocean’s eleven are highlighted, individualizing certain characters so that the gang doesn’t blur together as interchangeable thieves. Tony has lost touch with his wife and young son since he served time. He needs the money so that he can settle and hopefully reconnect with his son in military school; at the same time, Tony sees a doctor and receives distressing news. Similarly, Vince wants to get his wife out of a burlesque club, and Jimmy wishes to be independent of his wealthy mother. Their trade may be larceny, but these men are not ruled by greed. They face the same troubles and concerns as many other people. Danny loves his wife, Beatrice, but must acknowledge that they can no longer be together. Josh was forced to give up his dreams of playing baseball due to an injury sustained during the war. Strong, likable characters make the team construct all the more sound, and because they fought together as a team in World War II, it’s easy to overlook the fact that, in the very basic sense, they’re stealing money.

The performances from the entire cast are delightful. As much fun as it is to watch the men being recruited, it’s even more gratifying to watch the caper go down. The inevitable obstacles heighten the suspense, with Danny’s ex-girlfriend, Adele (Patrice Wymore), and Jimmy’s stepfather-to-be creating waves. Actor Silva was more popularly known for playing villains (e.g., John Frankenheimer’s 1962 The Manchurian Candidate -- with his Ocean’s 11 co-star, Sinatra -- and Steven Seagal’s debut, 1988’s Above the Law), and he is surprisingly charming as Roger. Romero might be best remembered as The Joker in the 1960s Batman TV series. Fell was known to television audiences as Mr. Roper in the successful series, Three’s Company (for which he won a Golden Globe in 1979), as well as its spin-off, The Ropers. He was also nominated for an Emmy for the 1976 mini-series Rich Man, Poor Man.

Milestone had twice won an Academy Award for Best Director, for 1927’s Two Arabian Knights (the very first year for the Academy Awards, the only time that the Best Director category was split into “comedy” and “drama” -- Milestone’s was the latter) and All Quiet on the Western Front (1930). He was also nominated for The Front Page (1931), and his 1939 Of Mice and Men was nominated for Best Picture. Actor Tamiroff was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor and won a Golden Globe (at the Globes’ inaugural ceremony) for the 1943 film, For Whom the Bell Tolls. The same year as her cameo in this film, Maclaine starred in Billy Wilder’s The Apartment, for which the actress was nominated for an Academy Award and awarded a Golden Globe (and also won, for good measure, a BAFTA for Best Foreign Actress).

In 2001, Steven Soderbergh directed a stellar remake with a star-studded cast, including George Clooney as Danny Ocean, as well as Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Julia Roberts, and Don Cheadle. Though not as dramatically engaging as the original, it was an amusing and highly enjoyable affair, performing well at the box office. Two stars of the original, Silva and Dickinson, appear in cameos. Two rather bland and lamely titled (although successful) sequels invariably followed, Ocean’s Twelve (2004) and Ocean’s Thirteen (2007).

Marking its 50 year anniversary, Ocean’s 11 makes its Blu-ray debut today. The features, although all carryovers from the previous DVD release, are a treat: an audio commentary with Frank Sinatra, Jr. and Angie Dickinson, “Las Vegas Then and Now” map casino vignettes (focusing on each of the targeted casinos -- the Desert Inn, the Flamingo, the Riviera, the Sahara and the Sands), an excerpt from The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson with Sinatra as guest host and Dickinson as star (and with a spoiler alert, as they discuss the film’s ending), and trailers. There’s also an Easter egg; just look for the extra pair of dice. The hi-def transfer is beautiful, with rich, bold colors and an immaculate soundtrack. For more information on this release, see the Warner Bros. Blu-ray site.

Warner Bros. provided a copy of this Blu-ray to Classic Film & TV Cafe. Photo stills courtesy of Warner Bros.

Zatoichi, the Blind Swordsman

Not as poetic as Akira Kurosawa's samurai films. Not as savagely stylistic as the Lone Wolf & Cub series. Those are the only reasons I can give for the lack of popularity of the Zatoichi films in the U.S. In Japan, though, these films about a blind samuari were an institution, with 25 of them appearing between 1962 and 1973 (a 26th installment was made in 1989). There was also a 1976 television series that ran for four seasons.

The Tale of Zatoichi established the simple premise: Ichi (Zato is a title) is a former masseur who, tired of being treated without respect, became a master swordsman. He describes himself as a "lowly gangster" and makes a living by gambling--and with his sword. His opponents often underestimate him, not accounting for his remarkable heightened senses.

The first film finds Ichi staying as a guest at the home of Sukegoro, a gangster who runs gambling houses. Sukegoro's hospitality is not an act of kindness. He anticipates an all-out war with his rival, a fellow gambling czar named Shigezo. After learning that Shigezo has hired a samurai, Sukegoro figured he needed a samuari on his side, too.

While fishing one day, Ichi meets Hirate, an introspective soul whom Ichi senses is seriously ill. The two men become friends almost immediately, even though it's soon clear that Hirate is the samurai working for Shigezo.

Hirate and Ichi meet while fishing.

As with Kurosawa's films, there are battle scenes and a climatic showdown--but this is a character-driven drama. Ichi recognizes instantly that Sukegoro's men are common riffraff. When he enters a room where they're gambling with dice, he notes aloud that it smells like filth and sweat. Later, he refuses to give a swordplay demonstration for Sukegoro's guests, explaining flatly: "My skill is not for entertainment." Clearly, Ichi has no respect for Sukegoro--even though he accepts money and free lodging from the gangster. (His skillful negotiation with Sukegoro is one of the film's best scenes, ending with: "My life does not come cheap.")

It's easy to see why the Ichi character appealed to audiences. Here was a man who became a master swordman to gain respect--but still lacks self-respect. Yet, he always acts with honor: rescuing a young woman, showing kindness to a man he admires, treating the elderly with respect, etc.


Ichi sheaths his sword after a slicing a
burning candle in mid-air.

 As Ichi, Shintaro Katsu gives a masterful portrayal, conveying the character's cunning and physical skills with a minimum of movement. In addition to portraying Ichi in all 26 of the original films (and directing the final one), Katsu produced the Lone Wolf & Cub movies which starred his brother Tomisaburo Wakayama. They are better films, but that's taking nothing away from the Zatoichi movies.

Although you may not have experienced a Zatoichi picture, you may have seen Blind Fury (1989) with Rutger Hauer. It was a remake of Zatoichi Challenged, the 17th film in the original series.

Trivia Time - Part 58

Who Am I? In the '50s I made two films with Frank Sinatra at MGM. In one movie I "got him", in the other I didn't. Who Am I?

Who Are We? We met by accident at the barbershop at Universal Studios. One of us had just been fired, while the career of the other was on the rise. One of us leaned over to the other and said, "Hey, would you be interested in doing a TV show for me?" Between the two of us, we changed the face of television, films and popular music. Who Are We?

Who Am I? I was primarily a stage actress for most of my life, although I had appeared in the occasional film. Then I appeared in a major role in a Bela Lugosi movie, which really made the public more aware of me. I became well known for playing mothers and/or grandmothers in many famous films made in the '30s and '40s. Who Am I?

1. Name the films in Who Am I? #1.

2. Name two future TV stars appearing in the movie from #1 in which Who Am I? #1 did NOT get Frank.

3. Name the TV show mentioned in Who Are We?.

4. What do these three films have in common: White Heat, Forever Amber, and Random Harvest?

5. Name the longest running show in the history of television (hint: it's still on the air).

6. Name a great star of stage and screen who had a recurring role as him/herself in this late '60s/early '70s TV series? Name the series, too.

7. In this TV series third season opener, it lampooned its major time slot opposition. Name the show and the opposition.

8. Name an Errol Flynn movie in which Flynn did NOT, for a change, kill Basil Rathbone's character?

9. Name the other co-stars of the film in #8.

10. What do the following have in common: the film Saboteur, the TV shows Alfred Hitchcock Presents and St Elsewhere?

Trivia Time - Part 57 - the Answers

Well, thanks to several last minute answers given by Rick, there are only two unanswered questions:

4. In the Blake Edwards film, Experiment in Terror, the climactic scene takes place in a ball park. Name the ballpark and the teams that were playing.

The Answer: The park that Vin Scully once referred to as the Disneyland of baseball: Candlestick Park; the San Francisco Giants and the LA Dodgers.

6. Name the two aliens in the first season of Rocky and Bullwinkle.

The Answer: Gidney and Cloyd

Jean Renoir's La Chienne

This controversial 1931 French drama was director Jean Renoir’s first sound film. Filmed primarily on location in Renoir’s hometown of Montmartre, this film finally brought Renoir the recognition he was denied as a silent film director. Stark and unrelenting (and, oh, so French), this film showcases both Renoir’s visual and spatial acuity, as well as his ability to avoid oversentimentality while unflinchingly staring at human baseness. This film was the beginning of the style that is most associated with Renoir: poetic realism.

Legendary French actor Michel Simon (in his first starring role) plays a henpecked bank clerk named Legrand who falls in love with Lulu (Janie Mareze) after rescuing her from a man beating her on the street. What Lulu neglects to tell Legrand is that she’s a prostitute and that the man who was beating her, Dede (Georges Flamant), is her boyfriend/pimp. Married to a complete harpy (Magdeleine Berubet) who controls their finances and won’t allow him to paint in the house, Legrand finds comfort in Lulu’s “innocence” and sweet nature. He sets her up in an apartment that he finances by stealing from both his wife and his work. When this money doesn’t suffice, Dede begins selling Legrand’s paintings under the name Clara Wood to finance his own café and gambling habits. Unaware that the sales of his artwork are financing Lulu’s pimp, Legrand is not angry when he learns that she’s selling his paintings. It is not until Legrand disentangles himself from his wife and shows up unexpectedly to tell Lulu that he’s going to be all hers that he discovers her deceit. In the end, Lulu meets with a tragic end and Dede gets his comeuppance at the hands of an executioner.

Based on a novel by Fouchardiere, this film was banned in the United States for forty years due to its sexual theme, crude language, and unpunished crime. After watching the scene where Lulu’s true nature is revealed to Legrand, I can see why some people were shocked by the film’s content. As Legrand is proclaiming his love for her and forgiving her indiscretions, Lulu sadistically belittles and laughs at him. This sets up the moment where you figure out why the film’s title is La Chienne. Having had enough of her deceit, he declares: “You’re no woman—you’re a bitch!” And, then some unpleasant things happen with a letter opener. It was 1931, so you have to admit that’s pretty daring. While this film wasn’t shown in the United States until 1975, American audiences did get to see a remake of it, Scarlet Street (1945). Directed by Fritz Lang and starring Edward G. Robinson and Joan Bennett, this film was a MUCH more toned down version.

Overall, the story is interesting to watch. Michel Simon does a nice job of playing an unhappy man who comes to life after falling for a much younger woman and then mentally cracks after he realizes it was all an illusion of happiness. Not my favorite Renoir film, but it serves as a good example of how his style developed and allowed him to go on to make masterpieces like Grand Illusion and The Rules of the Game (http://classic-film-tv.blogspot.com/2010/11/rules-of-game-everyone-has-their.html).

The Rules of the Game: Everyone Has Their Reasons

Entire books have been devoted to analyzing Jean Renoir's 1939 masterpiece, so it's impossible to do justice to this French classic in a single film review. However, I am constantly surprised by the number of film buffs who haven't seen it, so I feel compelled to promote it as part of the Cafe's Foreign Film Festival--well that, plus it's been a personal favorite since I watched it in college long ago.

Best described as a "comic tragedy," The Rules of the Game focuses on three themes: the relationship between and among the frivilous upper-class and their servants; the complex emotions between men and women; and the boundaries and expectations of society (the "rules of the game").

The film opens with the arrival of Andre Jurieux, a courageous aviator who has just completed a 23-hour solo flight across the Atlantic. As the public stands ready to hear about his heroic exploits, Andre uses the opportunity to whine that he did it all for a woman who didn't bother to be there and greet him. It doesn't matter to Andre that Christine, the woman in question, is married.

Octave explains the "rules" to Andre.

Andre's best friend, Octave (Renoir), has a long-standing friendship with Christine (Nora Gregor). He uses his influence to secure Andre an invitation to La Coliniere, a country estate owned by Christine and her husband Robert (Marcel Dalio). Robert is hesitant to agree at first, but Octave convinces him by agreeing to find a husband for Robert's mistress Geneviève (Mila Parely).

At the country gathering of friends, relationships change amidst an avalanche of mixed messages and misunderstandings. A confused Christine contemplates an affair with a stranger, then confesses her love for Andre before realizing that her friendship with Octave may be much more. Meanwhile, her maid Lisette ignores her husband, the gamekeeper, and flirts with both Octave and a poacher-turned-servant named Marceau. It's a classical French farce on the surface, but it's undercut by a condemnation of the bourgeois and concludes with an unexpected tragedy.

Geneviève participates in the hunt.

Clearly, Renoir wants to expose the emptiness and thoughtless cruelty of the upper classes, the latter conveyed in the film's most famous scene: a hunting party that slaughters dozens of rabbits and pheasants. As if this sequence (which is difficult to watch) needed more conviction, Renoir forsakes his typical long takes for cramming in 51 shots in less than four minutes. The violence is shocking and the analogy--that the bourgeois are indifferently destroying an unsuspecting society--is all the more potent.

It's no coincidence that the only likable members of Renoir's bourgeois are "outsiders." Several of Robert and Christine's "friends" feel sorry for Christine because she's Austrian. Later, we learn that Robert's father was a "Rosenthal from Frankfort"--meaning that he was Jewish. This allows us to feel empathy for them while still accepting that their vacuous life of luxury is no different from their guests.

Renoir's trademark use of deep focus--
Andre and Robert chat as Lisette watches
in the background.

In Renoir's world, both upper-class and servant classes understand the conventions of society, even though they break them. Octave stresses to Andre that "society has rules." And one of the house maids, upon learning Christine allowed Andre to sit next to her at dinner, expresses concern because "etiquette is etiquette."

It's ironic that the two most pathetic characters--Andre and Geneviève--are the ones who follow the rules at the risk of their own unhappiness. Andre may come across as a lovestruck fool, but he truly loves Christine and knows what he wants. Likewise, Geneviève understands that she doesn't want to lose Robert, although she confesses that "I don't know if it's love or force of habit." In contrast, Christine, Octave, and Robert struggle with trying to figure out what they really want. In the end, their actions seem foolish and perhaps even tragic, but as Octave explains to Robert at one point: "Everyone has their reasons."

Robert apologizes to his guests
after the tragedy.

The history of The Rules of the Game is almost as fascinating as the film itself. Two of Renoir's previous two films--La bête humaine and Grand Illusion--were big commercial and critical successes (Illusion even earned an Oscar nomintaion as Best Film...not Best Foreign-Language Film). So, it was a tremendous disappointment when Rules of the Games flopped miserably. Renoir even re-edited the film, trimming its running time from 96 minutes to 81. During World War II, the Nazis destroyed all known negatives. Then, in 1959, a restored 109-minute version of the film was released. Renoir approved this version, although it's important to note that he was not involved in the restoration.

Based on shooting scripts, film historians have compared the 81-minute and 109-minute versions. They contend that the shorter film was a harsher indictment of the upper classes, since it reduced or eliminated scenes that fleshed out the characters of Octave and Robert.

Since 1952, Sight and Sound magazine has done a poll of the 100 Greatest Films every decade. The Rules of the Game entered the 1952 poll as #10 and has been  #2 or #3 in every decade since then. The only film to rank above it: Citizen Kane.

Underrated Performer of the Month: Allison Hayes

Pulchritude with attitude. That's an appropriate description for B-movie actress Allison Hayes, who portrayed larger-than-life female characters on the silver screen...as in Attack of the 50-Foot Woman.

Born Mary Jane Hayes in 1930 in Charleston, West Virginia, she got her big career break when she represented Washington, DC in the 1949 Miss America Pageant. She took Allison Hayes as her professional name, worked in television, and eventually made her way to the West Coast in the early 1950s. She made her official film debut with a small part in 1954's Francis Joins the WACS. Further supporting player roles followed with costumers such as Sign of the Pagan (starring Jeff Chandler) and The Purple Mask (with Tony Curtis).

Hayes finally landed a promising role as a faded Southern belle opposite Van Heflin in the Western Count Three and Pray (1955). Unfortunately, critics focused on the film's other female star, a young Joanne Woodward. Instead of juicy parts in bigger budgeted films, Hayes got stuck in mid-grade fare like Mohawk and The Steel Jungle.

In 1956, Roger Corman provided her with a meaty role as the villain opposite gun-toting Beverly Garland in his fascinating feminist Western The Gunslinger. That same year, she played an alluring witch in another interesting Corman picture The Undead, which was filmed for $70,000 over ten days in a refurbished supermarket.

Hayes worked steadily in low-budget films and in television, often in thankless parts that capitalized on her looks. She was a promiscuous spouse who becomes a zombie in the camp classic Zombies of Mora Tau (1957).  In The Unearthly, she played alongside John Carradine as a mad scientist and Tor Johnson as his henchman (the film was later shown on MST3K).

But with her next sci fi film, Allison Hayes earned icon status as the title character in Attack of the 50-Foot Woman. She plays an alcoholic, mentally unstable wife with a crappy cheating husband. However, her life changes when she encounters an alien and begins to grow into a vengeful giant. The movie was understandably panned when originally released. But it acquired a cult reputation over the years, thanks to Ms. Hayes' no holds barred performance and the fantastic concept. My only problem with the film: Even with her emotional baggage, it's hard to fathom how any husband could cheat on Hayes' character. She is way hotter than Yvette Vickers as the "other woman."

In the 1960s, Hayes worked mostly in television. She appeared on Perry Mason five times with friend Raymond Burr (who co-starred in Count Three and Pray). Health problems, possibly related to lead poisoning, caused her to retire from acting by the late 1960s. She died of leukemia in 1977; she was only 46.

The Penultimate French Tearjerker: Les Parapluies De Cherbourg

Before her role in director Jacques Demy’s 1964 classic musical, Les Parapluies De Cherbourg, Catherine Deneuve was best known for giving birth to Roger Vadim’s illegitimate son. In a way, this was good preparation for her portrayal of an unmarried, 17-year-old who finds herself pregnant by a boyfriend serving in the Algerian War. Just twenty-years old when this film made her an international star, Deneuve’s melancholic performance was greatly enhanced by an unforgettable Michel Legrand musical score. Nominated for five Academy Awards, including Best Foreign Language Film, Best Screenplay, and Best Musical Score, this film won the Golden Palm and the OCIC.

Les Parapluies De Cherbourg is my all-time favorite film. I was in graduate school, studying French history, when a colleague asked what I thought of the French New Wave. This discussion naturally included the French’s love of jazz and films with unhappy endings. This, of course, was a perfect time for my colleague to mention that there was a film that encompassed both of these elements: Les Parapluies De Cherbourg. A lover of musicals since childhood, I jumped at the chance to watch this film once a copy could be procured. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.

I suspect I was just as shocked as the audience at the 1964 Cannes Film Festival when I realized that the ENTIRE film is sung (in French, of course)—there is no “traditional” dialogue. Instead, it is a modern day (popular) opera, set primarily to a jazz score. This tends to create a problem for American audiences who overwhelmingly dislike reading subtitles at “normal” speed, let alone at song-lyric speed. About fifteen minutes into watching I turned the subtitles off. My French was passable at the time, so I could mostly keep up with what was being sung.

Legendary French songwriter Michel Legrand, with the aid of Demy and others, wrote a musical soundtrack/script that is at times playful, romantic, and haunting. The most famous song is the title song, “Les Parapluies De Cherbourg” (more commonly known in English as “I Will Wait for You”). The instrumental version, which closes the film in heart-wrenching fashion (you will never forget it once you experience it), is brilliant all by itself. Then, when you set effortless lyrics to the score, it is a phenomenal love song. The closing pass of the song (finished off with a rousing violin-drenched crescendo) is:

Ils se sont séparés sur le quai d'un gare

Ils se sont éloignés dans un dernier regard

Oh je t'aim' ne me quitte pas

Loosely translated, from French to English:

They separated on the platform of a station

They moved away in one last look

Oh I love you does not leave me

The best recorded version of this song is by the Greek diva-extraordinaire Nana Mouskouri. Often imitated but never surpassed by countless covers (by such artists as Tony Bennett and Carlo Berardinucci), it is a timeless song that even after 45+ years doesn’t sound dated. In addition to this gem there are other seamless songs that carry the film along to its eventual devastating conclusion.

Another startling element of the film is the way Demy uses color to carry the story. Cherbourg is an often rainy and dreary port city in Normandy, so the bright blues, oranges, pinks, reds, and yellows that Demy uses in the clothing and overall set design is far from a realistic portrait of the title city. Yet, the virtual Technicolor world that he creates, with bright swatches of color, serves as a co-conspirator in the film. For example, in the beginning of the film everything jumps with color, which corresponds to the happy state of young lovers Genevieve (Deneuve) and Guy (Nino Castelnuovo). In a way the bright pastels serve as blinders—the young, impetuous lovers are surrounded by bright, clear color, but they can’t truly see what lies ahead. However, by the end of the film, when the now irrevocably parted lovers meet by chance one snowy night, there is a notable absence of color. Agnes Varda, Demy’s wife (and a director in her own right) has said that Demy’s use of color was aimed at portraying the violence and the cruelty of the story.

For those who like to see happy endings, there is no crueler ending than what you are given in this film. I have often contemplated why the ending is so emotionally jarring. I think it has a lot to do with the youthful exuberance shown by Genevieve and Guy, who are so much in love at the start of the film. It is a pure and innocent love, which in any other film would have come off as sickeningly saccharin. Then, your heart absolutely breaks at the famous train scene where Guy goes off to Algeria with a teary-eyed Genevieve on the train platform. But that’s okay, because the movie is only half over and you know they are going to get married and have a child named Francoise as soon as he returns—right? After all, she did sing she would wait for him! Oh, but she finds out she’s pregnant and Guy doesn’t write and the next thing you know she’s marrying that wealthy jewel smuggler (Marc Michel) from Lola (another Demy musical, from 1961) who you felt so bad for when his romantic hopes were crushed by that slut Anouk Aimee! Yet, still somewhere in your mind is the thought that Guy will come home and save Genevieve from a loveless marriage and all will be right in Cherbourg. But, alas, that’s not what happens.

Instead, you learn the bittersweet lessons that love does not always conquer all and that not everyone (especially you the viewer) gets a happy ending. Instead, people settle. Genevieve settles for wealth and security; Guy settles for companionship and loyalty. The one small detail that the viewer can take solace in is the unforgettable final scene, where by revealing the names of their respective children, both named Francoise, the couple are somehow still connected—even if they are living different lives they need only say the name of their child and some semblance of what once was pure love remains: “Oh I love you does not leave me.”

This movie made Deneuve a star. Her Genevieve was innocence personified. Called upon to display every emotion, from love to despair, she transforms a naïve, love-struck teenager into a resigned, world-weary woman who accepts that life isn’t always fair. Of course, Roman Polanski and Luis Bunuel couldn’t wait to tarnish that innocence, but that’s a story for another day.

Cafe Contributors Win CiMBA Awards!

The Classic Film & TV Cafe is thrilled to congratulate its regular contributors Paul2 and TheLadyEve for winning 2010 CiMBA awards for posts featured on the Cafe! The CiMBA is an award for excellence in classic film blogging presented by the Classic Movie Blog Association (CMBA).

Paul2 won the 2010 CiMBA for Best Classic Movie Blog Event for his weekly Trivia Time. Now in its 57th edition, Trivia Time may be the most challenging regular movie quiz on the web. Some installments have been viewed by over 400 readers and generated over 30 comments. Paul, your efforts in coming up with those mind-bending questions have not gone unnoticed. We tip our thinking caps to you!

The LadyEve won the 2010 CiMBA for Best Profile of a Classic Movie Performer or Filmmaker for her article About John Gilbert...An Interview with Leatrice Gilbert Fountain. Actually, it was one of two excellent interviews conducted by TheLadyEve in 2010 (the other being with Edna May Green, who starred in Shadow of a Doubt). Eve, we are delighted that your impeccable research and marvelous writing have been recognized by our classic movie blog peers!

Click here to check out the Classic Movie Blog Association's web site which lists all the 2010 CiMBA winners. The Cafe congratulates each winner and hopes everyone will take the time to peruse these excellent reviews and articles on classic films.

Trivia Time - Part 57

Hey, it's both Halloween AND the end of baseball season, so we're throwing you a few curve balls this time: the questions MAY have to do with "scary" movies or baseball movies (or scary baseball movies) or.....maybe not! We retain all rights to the contents of these questions.

So here is TT 57....we'll leave it to you to decide whether it is a trick or a treat, LOL!

Who Am I? I worked more on Broadway than in I did in films, although I made several movies during the 30s and 40s. I once nursed a very sick vaudevillian back to health 20 years before he and I appeared together in a film playing nephew and aunt. Who Am I?

1. Name the sick vaudevillian and the film in question in Who Am I?

2. In the film in #1, one scene shows the star sitting in a graveyard. Near him is a headstone with a name that has special significance. Give the name on the headstone and explain the significance.

3. In the same film in questions 1 and 2, there is a running gag about someone in the film resembling a famous actor. Name the famous actor AND the person who resembles him.

4. In the Blake Edwards film, Experiment in Terror, the climactic scene takes place in a ball park. Name the ballpark and the teams that were playing.

5. In a classic episode of Leave It to Beaver, Beaver calls a famous baseball player on the telephone. Name the player.

6. Name the two aliens in the first season of Rocky and Bullwinkle.

7. In one of his earliest films, this future star was a real "stiff". Name him, the film, the director and the stars.

8. In a movie made during her final decade, Bette Davis wanted to play both her part as well as that of the same woman 30 years earlier, to be shown in flashbacks. The makeup department did their best, but when cast and crew watched the dailies, it was clear that it wouldn't work. The director bravely took her aside and told her that she was not believable as a woman in her forties, even with makeup. Davis replied, "You're G**d***ed right!". Name the film.

9. The vaudevillian in Who Am I? once appeared in a Doris Day movie in which he took her to a baseball game. They both got to sit with the team in the dugout. Name the movie, the ball park, team, and the famous ball players who had speaking parts in that scene.

10. Name the famous baseball player who once had a speaking part on The Donna Reed Show.

Danny’s Not Here, Mrs. Torrance... He’s Watching Stanley Kubrick’s “The Shining”

Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson) takes a job as caretaker of the Overlook Hotel for the winter. A struggling alcoholic who has been sober for five months, he plans to work on his latest “writing project,” while his wife, Wendy (Shelley Duvall), and son, Danny (Danny Lloyd), stay with him in the enormous hotel. Before the employees leave, a cook, Hallorann (Scatman Crothers), recognizes in Danny a shared extrasensory ability. Hallorann’s grandmother referred to ESP as “shining,” which the young boy handles by creating Tony, who lives in Danny’s mouth, talking to him and sometimes showing him pieces of future events. Danny can sense that the cook is afraid of Room 237, and Hallorann warns Danny to stay out of the room.

Jack had been informed by the hotel manager of the preceding caretaker, Charles Grady, who murdered his family with an axe before killing himself. Days pass, and Jack sleeps late, repeatedly tosses a ball against the wall, and nods off at the typewriter. As Jack’s behavior becomes progressively more antagonistic towards his wife and son, Danny has visions of mysterious sisters, bloody corridors, and the word “redrum” scrawled on a door. Soon, Jack is seeing people at the hotel, like the bartender, Lloyd, who serves him drinks, and it seems only a matter of time before the agitated writer picks up an axe.
Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining was not generally well received upon its 1980 release in theaters, but like several of Kubrick’s films, The Shining has, over time, garnered more fans and favorable reviews. Kubrick was well known for his rigorous shoots during production, a perfectionist for every shot of his films. His movie prior to The Shining, Barry Lyndon (1975), took an astounding 300 days to complete filming, whereas production for The Shining reportedly lasted over a year. Perhaps because of his lengthy shoots, Kubrick was never genuinely considered an “actor’s director,” as the actors sometimes were simply objects within a highly detailed construct (e.g., the privates standing at attention in 1987’s Full Metal Jacket or Alex and his droogs sitting at the milk bar in 1971’s A Clockwork Orange).

In The Shining, there are seemingly endless shots of far-reaching hallways and characters framed in vast, nearly empty rooms. Something as simple as Wendy bringing Jack his breakfast becomes an arduous task of rolling a service cart for a prolonged distance. Many horror films enclose characters within confined spaces (such as George A. Romero’s 1968 ghoul opus, Night of the Living Dead), but The Shining takes an alternate approach. There is plenty of room to move in the colossal hotel, but, like with so many of the hotel’s elements, it’s pure deceit. The isolated hotel is covered in a severe snow storm, so Danny and his mother can run, and they can even hide, but there truly is no escape.
There have been numerous readings of The Shining, with some critical writings or essays viewing the film as an allegory. While a literal translation of the film’s plot is not likely feasible, it is possible to focus more on its base components. Jack Torrance is either conversing with and being manipulated by ghosts or his mind is disintegrating (not unlike Jack Clayton’s 1961 The Innocents or its source text, Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw). Theories can support either belief, but Kubrick’s infamous concluding shot, closing in on a simple photograph, adds a new element to any potential interpretation.

The Shining was based on the Stephen King novel of the same name, which was adapted by Kubrick and author Diane Johnson. King has been vocal over his dissatisfaction with Kubrick’s film version. The author was most critical of the casting of Nicholson, believing that audiences would immediately see Nicholson as the mentally unstable character, as opposed to watching a man slowly fall apart. In 1997, King adapted his novel and produced a three-part miniseries directed by Mick Garris and starring Steven Weber and Rebecca De Mornay. The television version was filmed in part at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado, the hotel which inspired King’s original novel. Kubrick filmed some of the exteriors for the 1980 film at the Timberline Lodge in Oregon in lieu of the Stanley Hotel, another source of contention for King. (The interiors were filmed at Elstree Studios in England.)
The film’s Steadicam operator, Garrett Brown, invented the Steadicam, which he initially called the “Brown stabilizer.” He first utilized the Steadicam in Bound for Glory (1976) and won great acclaim for Rocky the same year, following Sylvester Stallone up the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum. His design originally covered the area from the operator’s waist to head, but he was able to employ shots in The Shining at knee height (accomplished by utilizing a wheelchair), as the camera travels behind Danny on a Big Wheel in the Overlook’s hallways. The tracking shots in Kubrick’s film are extraordinary. They are fluid and follow Danny so closely that it gives the impression of being pulled against one’s will, intensifying the dread of the boy turning a corner, as one can never tell what will be standing there.

Soon after its initial theatrical release, Kubrick pulled the film and cut the ending. The final shot was the same, but there was a preceding scene that did little to explain the events of the movie. If anything, it unnecessarily piled on further intricacies to a labyrinth of ideas. There are apparently production shots, but the filmed scene reportedly no longer exists.

Wendy Carlos and Rachel Elkind composed a score for the film (Carlos had also written the Moog synthesizer music for Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange). However, very little of their music was used, as Kubrick opted for already existing classical music to cover most of the film’s soundtrack. In 2005, Carlos released the original material written for The Shining, with Rediscovering Lost Scores, Vol. 1 and 2 (also featuring selections from A Clockwork Orange and 1982’s Tron).
Though they are often referred to as “twins,” the ghostly Grady sisters in The Shining are simply dressed alike, as the film explains that the two girls are different ages. The well known line -- “Here’s Johnny!” -- was an ad-lib by Nicholson. Clearly a play on Ed McMahon’s introduction of Johnny Carson on The Tonight Show, Stanley Kubrick, who had been living in England for a number of years, reportedly did not comprehend the reference. Carson would later incorporate the scene in an introduction to one of the show’s anniversary specials.

The Shining is one of my favorite horror films. I’m a Kubrick fan, and although he didn’t concentrate on the horror genre, the famed director was able to create scenes of sheer intensity and disturbing imagery that sears itself into the viewers’ minds. It’s a movie that, if nothing else, makes me glad that I cannot afford to stay at a gigantic posh hotel.