THE LAST EYE CANDY OF THE YEAR. I know I've been very remiss with the eye candy so I thought I'd squeeze one more lovely lady into the blog before the year was out. This time it's the phenomenal Aya Ueto: model, actress, singer. Yep . . . a sword-wielding samurai assassin: pretty much my idea of a dream date. Enjoy this New Year's gallery and see her in action right below this post.
Well, as our newly-met trio begins to walk off in search of lodgings, an unseen assailant known locally as "The Glue Man" attacks Alison by pouring glue on her hair. That's right, you heard me. Many local women have been attacked at night by "The Glue Man" and Alison (accompanied by the two soldiers) vow to find out who this freakish assailant is and why he's doing (or is that "glueing") this to women. This is certainly a bizarre plot point to hang a movie on; and in fact it's not even the point of the movie -- although it takes us till the final reel before we realize that fully. "The Glue Man" is, in fact, what Hitchcock called a "macguffin" which sets the events of the movie in motion but really doesn't matter for what the film is trying to say.
"A Canterbury Tale" unfolds as leisurely as a sunny English afternoon in the country . . . and that's the whole point. The "Old" England is very much center stage as we see fields and farms, horse-drawn wagons and wheelrights and many shots of the endless English sky. While the film does in fact seem leisurely, it never flags. The film itself is travelling a road just as much as Chaucer's pilgrims did; both pilgrims and film are moving steadily but surely toward a deliberate destination. But I don't mean to suggest that this leisurely pace means the film is slow-moving; on the contrary, it's positively gripping in spots and totally engrossing for the viewer. This leads me back to why the film is engrossing and what exactly it's about. Well, even though the mystery of the "glue man" is important and fascinating, the film isn't a mystery. 
It's certainly not a romance; while any other movie would've had Alison (whose true love was killed in the war) and Bob (whose girlfriend back in America has stopped writing and ignored his letters) hook up, there's none of that here. The film's certainly not an action/adventure story and, while it takes place during the height of World War II, I wouldn't call it a "war film" either. Although it is. But not really. The war is indeed ever present (especially in one scene where an idyllic wide shot of an English field features actual zeppelins and anti-aircraft balloon thingies overhead -- the film WAS made during the war, after all). 
Actually, while "A Canterbury Tale" is not a mystery film or a romance or a war film, it IS at the same time. I can't really describe it other than to say it is extremely well-made and perhaps it is and it isn't these things owes something to the fact that it isn't cliched or predictable. One more thing the film is and isn't is patriotic. Not in the flag-waving, chest-beating unpleasant way MOST patriotic films are but in a gentle, common-sense, clear-eyed way that simply "IS" without having to shout about it. 
The celebration of the English countryside shown in the film is in itself enough of a reason for the English to defend the land from all comers. "A Canterbury Tale" is also an extremely spiritual film but not in a "religious" way -- if that makes any sense. Above all, I'd have to say the film is very VERY human. None of the characters is saccharine or simplistic but economically multi-dimensional with very little effort on the part of the script. The lines spoken by the characters are so well-chosen that the viewer has a very good grasp on each character almost immediately. Talk about economical, precise writing!
The film itself is really greater than the sum of it's parts (although those parts are superb without exception) which is probably why it's so difficult to say why exactly the film is so good. The writing and direction by Powell & Pressburger are matchless, Hillier's B&W cinematography is magnificent (we're talking "Citizen Kane" territory here: from the near-blackout conditions of some scenes where figures are shown in silhouette to the wonderful, airy, sunlit outdoor shots of Kent and Canterbury), the art direction by Alfred Junge is unbelieveable (apparently the interior of Canterbury cathedral was a SET! I still don't believe it!) and the acting is without exception wonderful and moving. Sheila Sim as Alison Smith is the personification of the British spirit during the blitz: she is never maudlin or soppy despite losing her love but has a strength and determination to carry on no matter what -- while still remaining human and warm and inwardly vulnerable. Ms. Sim would later go on to become Lady Attenborough in real life. Dennis Price makes his feature film debut as Peter Gibbs and is quite fine in the role. Real-life U.S. soldier Sgt. John Sweet makes his one and only film appearance as Bob Johnson; Sweet was not a professional actor but is actually quite effective in the role -- his sincerity carries the part. Sweet's voice is also practically identical to Red Skelton's -- only pitched a little higher. 
Top early-40's box office draw Eric Portman is suitably complex and mysterious as Thomas Colpeper. It was also nice to see some other well-known British character actors (at an incredibly young age) such as Charles Hawtrey (of, among other things, "Carry On Screaming") and Freda Jackson (memorable in Hammer's "Brides of Dracula"). The whole film really is excellent and the ending is magnificent: surprising, uplifting and wholly satisfying. Just like Chaucer's pilgrims, our four main protagonists converge on Canterbury cathedral in four different but interconnecting paths. "A Canterbury Tale" gets high marks. . .if only I could better explain why.
So, that's about it for this go 'round. I hope some of this stuff helps you out in the day to day struggle not to get eaten alive. With any luck, maybe I'll have some more choice information to pass along to you later. So until then, don't let the bastards grind you down.
HERE COMES THE MAN WITH THE ORCHID IN HIS HAND. As it is the holiday season and the very end of the year, I thought it would be fun to remind everyone of death. As is my wont at this time of year, I would like to take a moe and remember all those who departed this vale of tears during this year. So here is THE BUTCHER'S BILL FOR 2007:
OK, direct from the Twilight Zone are some pictures of me -- jeez, talk about the ghost of Christmas Past -- the first picture is of me and my first little girlfriend. I was 6 and she was 5. And yes, we did live in Stepford. I briefly toyed with the idea of putting one of those black bars across our eyes (or at least hers since my face has been in every post office from here to Hoboken) but I figured screw it -- she went and married a plumber so the hell with 'er! Please note the 70's wood panelling and mustard-coloured drapes. Also note that practically every ornament you see on that tree can be seen this very moment on my Christmas tree. Hey, isn't that that strange billiard game Don Adams advertised??? 
Well that's thems: the movies that I watched for the very first time this year and enjoyed the most. There were, of course, other great movies I saw for the first time this year which didn't quite make the cut of top 25: Action in the North Atlantic, Anatomy of a Murder, Broken Arrow, Casino, Cheyenne Autumn, Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet, The Informer, Jezebel, Thomas In Love, Vampira the Movie, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Witchcraft and Once Upon a Time in China II. Here's to next year and another passle of great movies to watch and discover!
"I USED TO BE A DOCTOR." THE PRISONER OF SHARK ISLAND is a 1936 film directed by the legendary John Ford; it concerns the true story of Dr. Samuel Mudd who was found guilty of conspiring in the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln. While the story naturally plays fast and loose with the historical facts, the film itself is quite a good one. I found myself being pleasantly surprised at how "un-antique" a mid-30's film can be when helmed by a masterful director. I hear Ford didn't think much of this film, however, and apparently producer Darryl F. Zanuck stuck his hand in quite a lot. But still the film works very well and holds up even today. One of the first things I noticed which helped the film immensely is the almost total absense of incidental music. Scenes of heartbreak and pathos are thankfully lacking in syrupy violins while action scenes are mercifully free of typical 30's style chase music which is almost always inappropriate. In fact, the use of silence in this film (as well as natural sounds) is fairly bold and the picture gains greatly from it.
The film opens with celebratory crowds setting bonfires and dancing because the Civil War is over and the North has won. President Lincoln (played by frequent Lincoln portrayer Frank McGlynn Sr. -- who played Honest Abe in several films including Shirley Temple's "The Littlest Rebel") comes out on the balcony of the White House as the crowd urges him to give a victory speech. Nobly, Lincoln refuses to speechify but asks the band to play "Dixie". This scene immediately casts Lincoln in a saintly light as the first reel has barely begun to unspool and it would seem totally over the top Hollywood twaddle if it weren't in fact true; Lincoln actually did that and this is one of several (not many) instances when the film is factual. Next we go to Ford's Theater (no relation to John Ford, I hope) and the inevitable re-enactment of the assassination. The scene is well-composed and owes something to D.W. Griffith's earlier portrayal of the assassination in "Birth of a Nation". Actual lines from the play "Our American Cousin" are used although the line which got a big laugh and Booth waited for to fire his shot occurs too soon in Ford's film: "You sockdologizing old mantrap!". Also the angle of Booth to the President is also incorrect: the real Booth came up behind Lincoln while the film shows him almost completely to one side of the President when he shoots. Mere quibbles but I thought I'd mention it. Booth's leap onto the stage below is rather well-done and he correctly brandishes his knife and bellows "Sic Semper Tyrannus!" 
Booth (minor actor Francis McDonald) and David Herold (Paul Fix) ride into the night but the assassin's busted-up leg forces them to look for a doctor. They find one at the home of Dr. Samuel Mudd (Warner Baxter). Now, Ford's film depicts Mudd as totally innocent and unknowing as to Booth's identity. This, of course, isn't strictly the truth since Mudd had met Booth on at least 3 earlier occassions. However, the film's object (spelled out in the opening introduction which fills the screen) is to show Mudd as a completely innocent man unjustly imprisoned. While Mudd was probably MOSTLY innocent and wouldn't have been convicted by a non-military court, he wasn't exactly the "saint in surgical garb" (to paraphrase an episode of M*A*S*H*) that this film makes him out to be. Mudd cuts Booth's boot off his injured foot and disgards it; the boot conveniently has John Wilkes Booth stamped on the inside of it. 
Booth slips the doctor a $50 dollar bill for a $2 dollar job (also incorrect -- the actual amount was $25) and takes off leaving Mudd and his wife Peggy (Gloria Holden: star of "The Old Dark House", "The Invisible Man" and James Cameron's "Titanic") none the wiser. Naturally, the Union soldiers come the next day, find Booth's boot and arrest the doctor for conspiracy to assassinate Lincoln. Mudd and the seven other conspirators are tried by military court (many say "kangaroo court") and found guilty. Four are hanged (including Mary Surratt: the first woman to be hanged U.S. history) and the other four are transported to prison for life. Mudd is sent to Dry Tortugas: a "Devil's Island"-type island prison off the coast of Florida surrounded by sharks (hence the name of the film).
Once he arrives on the "burning white hell" of a prison island, Mudd encounters Sgt. Rankin (magnificently played by John Carradine) who promises to make Mudd's life a living hell because he believes Mudd killed Lincoln. The first scene with Carradine is a stunner. Rankin is "checking in" the prisoners at a table; when Mudd announces his name Carradine stands up into the camera for a fiery-eyed close-up filled with zealous hatred. 
While the film is filled with several fine performances, Carradine steals the picture. The only time he falters is due to the script and no fault of the actor's. Rankin harasses Mudd, shoots him during an escape attempt, tries to get him eaten by sharks, orders his men to kill Mudd instead of bringing him back alive . . . and after all this suddenly becomes all sweetness and light after Mudd doctors him (and the rest of the prison) for Yellow Fever. The scene rings completely false but that's not Carradine's fault. No one could sell an abrupt, sudden transformation like that -- no matter how good an actor. At least one scene should've been shot depicting at least the slight melting of Carradine's icy hatred as the sergeant sees Mudd's tireless efforts to cure the prison of Yellow Jack.
As for the previously mentioned escape attempt and Yellow Fever epidemic, the former is a made up incident while the latter actually happened. Mudd's exciting and complicated escape attempt is thrilling and wonderfully shot (also without any musical score at all which adds to the realism). The real Dr. Mudd merely wore civilian clothes and boarded a ship before being discovered. The filmic Mudd (aided by his wife) takes part in an intricate escape plot which involves his transport by ship to nearby Key West so he can be arrested in a civilian jurisdiction and gain a re-trial under civilian law. 
So, Mudd isn't trying to flee but merely wants to hop over to Key West and get a fair trial. Naturally, he is recaptured and thrown into solitary. However, an outbreak of Yellow Fever sweeps the prison. The prison doctor (played by O.P. Heggie -- who is probably most famous for playing the blind hermit in THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN as well as Robert Donat's prison cell companion in THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO) soon dies and the prison warden (old Ford stalwart Harry Carey) seeks Mudd's help in checking the epidemic. This recruiting of Mudd to fight Yellow Fever actually did happen and, as in the film, led to his early pardon. However, quite a bit of poetic license is used 
(particularly when Mudd practically takes over the prison and has the gun crew fire a cannon at an offshore medical supply ship that refuses to deliver medicine to the prison for fear of catching Yellow Fever). The warden and everyone left in the prison (including the aforementioned about-facing John Carradine -- who insists on being the FIRST name) signs a petition recommending Mudd's pardon for his heroic efforts. President Andrew Johnson does so and Mudd finally returns home, much the worse for wear, to a heartwarming reunion with his wife and daughter.
While PRISONER OF SHARK ISLAND probably would've been a pretty good picture done by another director, John Ford elevates it to an extremely good one. This is one of those movies which holds your attention for every second of it's running time. Each event logically and satisfactorily follows event and the viewer literally isn't sure moment to moment what's going to happen next. Warner Baxter (whom I've never seen in any other movie) gives a fine performance as Dr. Mudd: usually understated but occasionally (but justifiably) over the top.
Baxter never overplays the martyr aspects of his endlessly put-upon character and, in fact, is not written as a saint; Mudd is in fact a southerner and a Confederate sympathizer who in fact owns slaves and Baxter plays his scenes with recently-freed slaves just as a white slaveowning southerner would behave. Baxter is alternatively affectionate with his former slaves and then imperiously shouts orders at the black soldiers in the prison camp. Many modern-day PC critics are made uncomfortable by these scenes and label them racist. But that was sadly how freed blacks and white Southerners behaved toward each other in the aftermath of the Civil War (and, indeed, long years after). To have the Southern whites suddenly treating the freed slaves with respect as equals would be ridiculous in the context of the times. And John Ford, throughout his many films, has demonstrated time and time again that he is not racist. Ford, in fact, demonstrates this fairly early in the film when a Northern man addresses a crowd of freed slaves telling them they are now free and equal to the whites and now have the right to vote. Dr. Mudd admonishes the Northerner for keeping his workers from their work and tells his former slaves to throw him off his land. When the workers, who still don't buy the whole "now you're free" argument, go to escort the fellow away, the Northerner angrily tells the nearest man he can't lay hands on a white man. The freedman quips, "But weren't you the one who just told us we're your equals". There's a lot of interesting stuff going on in this scene: Southerner Mudd still behaving as if the South hadn't lost the war, the former slaves disbelieving (rightly, it turned out) the North's promises of their newly-minted equality and the hypocritical Northerner who trumpets the former slaves as his equal . . . UNTIL they lay a hand upon him.
In addition to the excellent acting job provided by John Carradine and Warner Baxter, the rest of the cast is (mostly) fine as well. Gloria Stuart is more effective than I've ever seen her in a 30's film; while she does once or twice resort to hysterics they are totally in character with the events tearing her family apart. Harry Carey is also quite excellent as the prison warden; in addition to a long career in the movies he's probably most well-known as the President of the Senate in Frank Capra's "MR. SMITH GOES TO WASHINGTON" -- amused at Mr. Smith's constant outwitting of the Senate politicians. As Carey descends into Mudd's sweatbox cell to basically beg Mudd to battle the Yellow Fever epidemic, the actor gives his lines a truthfulness and weight which practically steals the scene. Also in the cast are a passle of familiar character actors. Crotchedy old Claude Gillingwater plays Mrs. Mudd's elderly Confederate colonel father who cobbles together a group to rescue Dr. Mudd from the prison. Gillingwater sadly suffered an accident on the Paramount Studio lot in February 1936 from which he never recovered; the actor committed suicide in 1939 due to failing health and a wish not to become a burden on anyone. Other familiar faces in the cast are Arthur Byron as Erickson (who appeared as Sir Joseph Whemple in the Universal classic "THE MUMMY" from 1932), Frank Shannon as Judge Advocate General Holt (most well-known for playing Dr. Zarkov in the Buster Crabbe "FLASH GORDON" serials) and John McGuire as Lt. Lovett (who played the lead in arguably the first film noir: 1940's "STRANGER ON THE THIRD FLOOR" with Peter Lorre). And of course this wouldn't be a John Ford film without his brother Francis Ford as prison Cpl. O'Toole. Francis Ford, who was an earlier movie star years back, appeared in many John Ford pictures including THE QUIET MAN, WAGON MASTER, SHE WORE A YELLOW RIBBON, STAGECOACH, FORT APACHE, MY DARLING CLEMENTINE, THE GRAPES OF WRATH, DRUMS ALONG THE MOHAWK, YOUNG MR. LINCOLN and more.
THE PRISONER OF SHARK ISLAND is endlessly interesting and holds up very well even today. It's the cinematic equivalent of a page-tuner. As true history it's not so accurate. . .but this is a movie we're talking about. . .and as cinema it's eminently watchable.
