Summer Regards: Last Train From Gun Hill (1959)

In yet another excellent John Sturges western, Last Train from Gun Hill ('59) reunites Kirk Douglas with the pop-Western stylist in this hazy, poignant revenge tale.

Douglas plays Matt Morgan, a Sheriff stricken by tragedy after the rape and murder of his Native American wife. A saddle from the perpetrator's horse reveals his identity - the son of Matt's best of old friends, Craig Belden (Anthony Quinn).

The film deftly mixes Sturges' pension for widescreen splendor, the thin bond between family and friendship and the futility of law and order through small-town hysteria. In the latter sense, Last Train From Gun Hill readily recalls 3:10 to Yuma and Sturges' own Bad Day at Black Rock. It's one taut, protean piece of entertainment. [B+]

Criterion Donen

I was really excited to see a Blu-ray version of Stanley Donen's Charade ('63) included in their recent September line-up announced yesterday, which will serve as a high-def update to the excellent '04 DVD that saved the film from public domain ugliness.

Of course everyone knows that Charade is a Hitchcock knock-off of the highest order, but it's also one of the best - if not the best - attempts at capturing the sexually playful international thriller formula that was defined by Hitch in films like The 39 Steps ('35), To Catch a Thief ('55) and North by Northwest ('59).

Summertime Clothes

I arrived at Michigan City, Indiana late Sunday night and have been trying to catch up on sleep and movies and fun times ever since, all the while unpacking and recalibrating, etc.

I watched John Sturges' Last Train From Gun Hill ('59) this morning, and expect to get down to business with some other stuff rented from the impeccable Michigan City Public Library soon.

I'll keep most posts short and sweet (2-3 paragraphs), and will probably cut back on full-length reviews, as well. On the contemporary front, I will likely seen Joe Carnahan's The A-Team and Vincenzo Natali's Splice sometime in the next week or so.

Movie Lull

I have the World Cup and Transfer Orientation (all day yesterday) to thank for not writing anything since Wednesday. There's also the matter of having nothing of substance to see either in the art-house or mutiplex realms.

Then tomorrow morning, we take a 16-hour drive north to Michigan City, Indiana where all of my extended family spends the summer whenever they can. For the drive (when I'm not behind the wheel), I'll be watching George Sidney's Scaramouche ('52), Raoul Walsh's They Died With Their Boots On ('42) and Jacques Tourneur's The Flame and the Arrow ('50).

Once at the desired port of call, the movie thing picks up big-time. The Michigan City Public Library is probably one of the greatest classic movie mecca's ever built.

WWII #14: Stalag 17 (1953)

"STALAG 17" (Billy Wilder, 1953)
Paramount Pictures, 120 mins.

A stripped-down, comical and sophisticated prisoner-of-war mystery, Billy Wilder's Stalag 17 ('53) concerns the matter of an unknown informant in barracks four of the titular German prison camp - most believe it's a cynical swindler named Sefton (William Holden), but he's committed to proving otherwise.

Among the stable of goons and loons are a mute named Joey (Robinson Stone), a spoiled Lieutenant (Don Taylor), a confrontational stiff (Neville Brand) and a pair of stooges named "Animal" (Robert Strauss) and Shapiro (Harvey Lembeck). They're goofy and a tad too relevant, but Wilder (also a co-writer) manages to make even these buffoons appropriately-sketched and eventually, wholly likeable.

Meanwhile, William Holden's Sefton, who welcomes suspicion with his privileged dealings outside of the barracks and his cigarette-trading rackets, is a classic movie cool-guy with his lumberjack hat and derisive cracks. Even his inevitable vindication doesn't lead to a drastically different mode of self-preservation.

And that revelatory scene, in which the real mole's identity is revealed, just happens to be a knockout and one of Wilder's finest accomplishments. Ironically set to a human train of prisoners bellowing about the barracks chanting, "When Johnny Comes Marching Home," the scene is a masterly reveal, with Holden's J.J. Sefton lurking bedside as the swinging of a lightbulb alerts his attention.

Similar to the way that Billy Wilder used Erich von Stroheim in the excellent Egypt-set WWII thriller Five Graves to Cairo ('43)to portray General Rommel, the portly Otto Preminger subs in for the playfully sardonic Nazi commandant Von Scherbach in a memorable supporting turn.

Though significantly less propagandist, Stalag 17 bears many similarities to Five Graves to Cairo with its goofily hazardous plotting and Nazi bewilderment. Both films are compelling wartime yarns, but there isn't any question which one Sefton would go for. [A-]

WWII #13: The Guns of Navarone (1961)

"THE GUNS OF NAVARONE" (J. Lee Thompson, 1961)
Columbia Pictures, 157 mins.

Based on a novel by Alistair MacLean (published in 1957, the same year The Bridge on the River Kwai was released in theaters), J. Lee Thompson's The Guns of Navarone ('61) is a standout in the momentary spike of large-scale WWII epics released in the early-to-late 1960's. It's worldwide box-office success and team-based covert-ops formula opened the door for such films as The Dirty Dozen ('67), Where Eagles Dare ('68) and Kelly's Heroes ('70).

Set in the Greek isles in and around the Aegean Sea, the film has a salty, coastal draft that is all too rare for a WWII action film. The Grecian setting - which results in an unsuspected typography over the opening credits - grants the film a distinctive visual stamp delivered home by Oswald Morris' warm, seascape lensing.

Tasked with scaling a cliff and making their way to the titular German guns (which are staring down helpless British vessels in the Aegean), Capt. Keith Mallory (Gregory Peck), a fluent German speaker and skilled climber, is persuaded to lead the group, consisting of specialized task-masters including a demolitions expert (David Niven) and a ruthless killer with a tragic past (Anthony Quinn).

As in Where Eagles Dare (that excellent film later penned for the screen by MacLean himself), The Guns of Navarone depicts men traversing a ruthless environment behind enemy lines under seemingly impossible odds - full of stealth, treachery and escapability.

And although the film is ultimately the story of triumph and heroism, there's also a delightful sting of futility throughout, as our unlikely squad of heroes openly question their importance and impact in the grand scheme. ("I've been on a hundred jobs and not one of them has altered the course of the war!")

Above all, it's the frustration, resiliency and triumph of collaboration between men that drives all of MacLean's material, in particular The Guns of Navarone. The struggle between morality and mission success brewing inside of Peck's Capt. Mallory arguably provides as many thrills as the film's numerous action scenes. [A-]

WWII #12: Destination Tokyo (1943)

"DESTINATION TOKYO" (Delmer Daves, 1943)
Warner Bros., 135 minutes

Among the worst of faults in Delmer Daves' Destination Tokyo ('43) - and there are plenty - is the fact that it manages to bait its star, Cary Grant, into giving one of his most impersonal and blandish performances. On the whole, it's a flimsily made, overlong and laggard piece of WWII fiction.

The film traces a U.S. submarine, the Copperfin, through a covert operation into Tokyo Bay, gathering Intel for the eventual "Doolittle Raid" in 1942. Captain Cassidy (Cary Grant) is an experienced, calm-under-pressure pro and his crew is accommodating and affable, which makes for an efficient submarine, but a rather stodgy watch.

In Destination Tokyo, drama is something to be manufactured - an emergency appendicitis operation stinks up the final act - rather than adeptly applied in screw-tight fashion. Meanwhile, Grant's Captain Cassidy is frankly a bore, an officer who worries about his wife and kids (as seen through flashbacks) but otherwise seems to have nothing of intrigue going on inside.

As is the case with most Warner Bros. productions of the period, Destination Tokyo also relies heavily on models and bathtub sea battles, but rarely has the form been pushed to the limit and utilized as badly as it is here. (In fact, I'll wager that the film would benefit from a few ticks in tension and claustrophobia by leaving the Pacific Ocean surroundings to the imagination.)

As a fictional companion piece to the excellent Thirty Seconds to Tokyo (essentially the Doolittle Raid from the Navy's point-of-view), Destination Tokyo will limp and stagger around hopelessly. In direct comparison or on its own, this is one meatless, tame and shoddy WWII film. [C]