Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

'The Gambler and the Lady' is worth a chance

The Gambler and the Lady (1952)
Starring: Dane Clark, Naomi Chance, Meredith Edwards, Kathleen Byron, and Erich Pohlmann
Director: Sam Newfield, Patrick Jenkins and Terence Fisher
Rating: Seven of Ten Stars

An American hood living in London (Clark) wants more than to just be the guy who made his fortune owning popular night clubs and running successful after-hours gambling parlors... he wants to accepted among the circle of the British ruling class the admires so much. When he befriends the beautiful and truly noble-in-spirit Lady Susan (Chance), it appears his dream may come true. But will gangsters trying to take over his businesses, bitter ex-employees, and his own naive belief that the British upper class is inherently more honest and decent than men of the street like himself conspire to destroy him first?


"The Gambler and a Lady" unfolds like a Greek tragedy, with everyone around Jim Forster, the American street tough turned die-hard Anglophile, warning him that the upper-crust is not a place for him, nor are those who are already there the kind of people he imagines. But, like all tragic heroes, Jim forges ahead, pursuing his hopes and dreams... and ultimately dooming himself and everyone and everything he ever cared about. The end of the film is its starting point, but even if it wasn't, it is no surprise that Jim comes to a sad end, nor how he got there; each step that he thinks leads him closer to his dream turns out in the end to be another factor in his downfall and only Jim is blind to this fact until it's too late.

Although Dane Clark will never be enshrined among history's great actors, he had a real knack for portraying Everyman and tough guys with soft interiors, both of which made him perfect for the role in "The Gambler and the Lady". In the hands of a lesser actor, or a more handsome one, the character of Jim could easily have come across as pathetic rather than sympathetic. While the entire cast is good in their parts--as is the case with most of these black-and-white Hammer crime dramas given that we see the same supporting actors over and over again--it really is Cook who makes the movie.

"The Gambler and the Lady" was reportedly shot in less than a month, and with a configuration of three directors in order to allow American writer/director Sam Newfield to help the project without drawing flak from the British labor unions, but any production difficulties aren't to be seen in the final product. It's a fast-paced, interesting and compelling drama that features more action than is the norm for Hammer's black-and-white thrillers and it easily ranks among the best of the films born from the partnership between the English studio and American B-movie producer Robert Lippert.

This is a movie that doesn't deserve the obscurity it has languished in for the past many decades. It's worth checking out for anyone who enjoys classic movies.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Det er Fastelavn i dag!

If you don't know what that means, you're probably not Danish!

Here are pictures of girls with masks... but what I really want are some fastelavnsboller. (But you can spare the fastelavnris!)



For more hidden beauties, click here.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

'On the Spot' is where gangsters drop dead

Given the thoughts that occurred to me while writing this review, this turned into a bit of a hold-over from Black History Month.

On the Spot (1940)
Starring: Frankie Darro and Mantan Moreland
Director: Howard Bretherton
Rating: Six of Ten Stars

After two gangsters are gunned down at the soda counter in a small-town drug store, the only witnesses to the crimes, a soda clerk and a hotel porter (Darro and Moreland), become the focus of both media and gangland attention when everyone becomes convinced they know the location of loot from a bank robbery. They take it upon themselves to identify the mysterious killer before they become the next victims.


"One the Spot" is a light-hearted mystery flick that is worth watching these days for the look it provides into race relations of 1940s mainstream America. On the one hand, there is a casual, unconscious racism directed at Mantan Moreland's Jefferson character by the reporters and gangsters, but on the other hand, there's no such attitude from his friend Frankie the soda clerk and wanna-be scientist. Yes, Frankie bosses Jefferson around and puts him in danger, but that has nothing to do with Jefferson's skin color. You have the sense that Frankie would treat Jefferson the exact same way if he was white.

This relationship between Darro and Moreland's characters is actually a common one for the films they made for Monogram Pictures; they made enough together that one can almost label them a "comedy duo" (if someone hasn't already). The two invariably portray characters who are friends rather than employer and servant, as was usually the case when a black character appeared in a mainstream movie of the time. Moreland's character keeps getting into trouble thanks to Darro's hairbrained schemes and dreams for success he has for both of them, but they soldier on together due to the mutual loyalty. For all the rampant racism that supposedly existed at all levels and in all facets of American society, it's an interesting pair of characters.

I admit to being too lazy to anything but the most casual of research into Moreland, Darro, and their roles at Monogram, but even a simple reviewer such as myself can see that Moreland was treated with a level of respect by the studio's marketing department that few black actors in the 1930s and 1940s enjoyed: He often had equal billing with white co-stars on posters, and he was always listed high on the cast lists. Monogram clearly valued him as a comedian and an audience draw, but I also wonder if someone at the studio wasn't trying to change race attitudes through popular culture.

That said, though, this film does feature Mantan Moreland in the sort of role that made small-minded people sneer at him during the 1960s. Jefferson hewers closely to the stereotype of a not-too-bright, superstitious black man who is a afraid of everything, including his own shadow. It's a character that was something of a signature for Moreland--and one that was a comedic staple even in films made exclusively for black audiences--and when he portrayed this character type, he was quite funny. In some Monogram films, Moreland's character is actually smarter than the white main characters, with "King of the Zombies" being a perfect example of this.

Beyond the look at how race was approached in B-movies in the 1940s, "On the Spot" is moderately entertaining so long as you don't think too hard while watching it. The jokes are mostly amusing, and the supporting cast is made up of talented actors. The biggest problems with the film is the fact that it's a one-suspect mystery, although I give filmmakers credit for playing fair with the audience by establishing that one suspect with evidence put before the viewers early in the film; and the fact that the mystery could have been mostly solved if the reporters and the law enforcement officials in the film weren't among the dumbest such characters to ever appear on the silver screen. And ultimately, the killer isn't much smarter, even if the plan that brought him to the small town was pretty ingenious. (In fact, it was so clever that it almost warrants a movie unto itself, if it hasn't been done.)



Saturday, February 26, 2011

Thursday, February 24, 2011

'The Devil's Daughter' is short, but feels long

The Devil's Daughter (1939)
Starring: Nina Mae McKinney, Ida James, Emmett Wallace, Hamtree Harrington, Jack Carter, and Willa Mae Lang
Director: Arthur Leonard
Rating: Three of Ten Stars

Sylvia Walton (James) returns from the United States to Haiti after a long absence when she inherits her father's banana plantation. Her disinherited half-sister Isabelle (McKinney), who managed the plantation for several years, has vanished without a trace, and Sylvia is desperate to find her, to offer her a fair share of the inheritance. Meanwhile, two rival suitors vie (Carter and Wallace) vie for Sylvia's attention and mysterious voodoo drums are heard from the depths of the jungle... where a vengeful Isabelle plots to regain all of what she considers rightfully hers.


"The Devil's Daughter" barely runs barely 50 minutes, but it feels much longer than that. A melodrama with horror overtones--very faint overtones, as the film repeatedly makes the point that the voodoo rituals are just hoaxes to drive off Sylvia and her dippy manservant Percy (Harrington)--about a quarter of the running time is wasted on a lame subplot involving the unfunny comic relief character trying to protect his soul from voodoo spirits and later to save his boss and her sister from a crooked plantation foreman. The film is further doomed by the fact that it features some of the worst dialogue I've ever seen outside of fiction written by grade schoolers, and acting styles that were passe in films in early 1932. In fact, every thing about this movie almost everything about this movie is stilted and stagy, even during the one scene where a little cinematic energy finally creeps in.

This is a film that's primarily of historical interest. It's an example of the movies produced during the early part of the 20th century for the 700 or so movie theaters that catered to Black audiences during America's period of Segregation. It's interesting to note that the same sort of characters that get slagged as racist in movies from the same period made for general audiences can be found in this film as well, specifically the bug-eyed superstitious servant character that Mantan Moreland made his signature. In fact, the only difference between characters portrayed by Moreland and the character of Percy in this film is that Percy is fundamentally unsympathetic. (And I'm not sure he was intended to be viewed as such by the filmmakers; I suspect he was intended to be a lovable, if not very bright, rogue, but to my eyes he was an obnoxious jerk who first tried to take advantage of what he considered to be backwards islanders, only to have the tables turned on him. The cultural and political tensions between the "cultured" daughter and her servant and the "native" daughter and her supporters lends a little bit of interesting flavor to the film, but it's not enough to make up for its shortcomings and outmoded style.

Although this is a film that history has left behind in every conceivable way, the climactic voodoo sequence is a nice pay-off for sitting through it. The song performed is catchy, and a little bit of cinematic life finally finds its way into the proceedings. The scene also showcases the screen presence of Nina Mae McKinney, a talented and charismatic singer actress who was not fated for screen-stardom.

If you want to get a taste of the "race films" from the 1930s, this isn't a bad place to start. If you're looking for a look at classic voodoo-oriented horror films, you're better off with "White Zombie", "I Walked With a Zombie", or even "King of the Zombies".

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Picture Perfect Wednesday:
Josephine and the Amazing Edible Dreamskirt

Born in St. Louis, MO, in 1906, Josephine Baker started dancing professionally in her early teens. She fled Missouri for Europe by the time she was 17, frustrated by the rampant racism in her hometown.

She quickly became a favorite in Paris revue clubs, and in 1925 she first performed her famous "banana dance" and was catapulted to international fame.

In 1937, Baker renounced her American citizenship in favor of France, as she was deeply disgusted by the many racist government-sanctioned institutions and regulations that existed in American society at that time. Although she occasionally visited the States over the following decades, she made her home in France and Monaco.

Baker always refused to perform in clubs that practiced segregation, and in 1951 she filed racism charges against the famous Stork Club in New York City when she was refused service because she was black. She later was the only woman to give an address at Martin Luther King's famous March on Washington rally.

Baker passed way in 1975.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

The finest adventures of Marvel's greatest blacksploitation hero

Essential Luke Cage, Power Man, Vol. 1 (Marvel Comics, 2005)
Writers: Steve Englehart, Steve Englehart, Archie Goodwin, Len Wein, et.al
Artists: George Tuska, Billy Graham, Vincent Colletta, et.al.
Rating: Seven of Ten Stars

During the 1970s, Marvel was jumping on whatever pop culture trend or figure they felt was suitable for comic book adaptation. This period brought us the martial arts-craze inspired series like "Iron Fist" and "Master of Kung Fu,"; classic horror monster-inspired titles of "Monster of Frankenstein," "Tales of the Zombie," "Tomb of Dracula," "Werewolf by Night," and others; occultism-inspired titles like "Son of Satan"; genre-bending titles like "Ghost Rider", "Man-Thing", and "Spider-Woman" ; and the original "blacksploitation" comic book "Luke Cage, Hero for Hire."

Luke Cage wasn't Marvel's first "blacksploitation" hero--that honor goes to The Falcon, a pimp turned costumed Captain America sidekick--but he was the first to carry his own title. And what a title it was.

Conceived by Roy Thomas and initially written masterfully by the great Archie Goodwin, Luke Cage was serving time in Seagate Maximum Security Prison when he volunteered for a medical experiment that, thanks to the interference of a virulent and violently racist prison guard, went wrong and granted him increased strength and near-invulnerabilty. Escaping from prison in the chaos following the experiment gone wrong, Cage settled in Harlem where he decided to use his new-found powers to become a "hero for hire" out of a small office above a 42nd Street grindhouse theater.


The first 16 stories presented in "Essential Luke Cage, Power Man" originally appeared in issues titled "Luke Cage, Hero for Hire". Written by Archie Goodwin and Steve Englehart, and penciled and inked primarily by George Tuska and Billy Graham, these tales are truly a tour-de-force of inner-city flavored superhero comics with a blackspoitation vibe so strong you could almost hear Isaac Hayes singing and guitar riffs in the background.

The first 16 issues of the series also comprise one long story arc that, while it contained numerous smaller tales they were all joined together by a strong supporting cast and the ongoing threads of Luke trying to atone for his criminal past and protect his new life from the ever-present threat of someone discovering he's an escaped convict. The stories also deal with issues of bigotry and racism in between and during Cage's battles against a quirky mix of inventive villains. Finally, the way the cast of characters and story develop in those first issues feel far more literary in nature than most comics. A prime reason for this is the fact that when characters are killed off, it doesn't feel like it's being done for shock value or as some gimmick to boost sales or create cross-over fodder, but rather because it is a natural development of what has gone before. It really is some of the best writing in the history of American comics. Heck, even the art is great; I'm not a big fan of George Tuska and a like Billy Graham's work even less, but both artists did the best work of their careers on the early "Luke Cage" issues; only issues #18-#20 where Tuska was inked by Vince Colletta feature better art.

My love for these early Luke Cage stories is heightened further by the two-part story originally from issues #9 and #10 where Cage crosses paths with Doctor Doom. They are some of the best Doom stories ever published, and they are the reason I have such an affection for Doom as a villain. In fact, they are among the early readings I did that I credit with me wanting to be a writer. And the fact that someone as wealthy as Doom stiffs Cage for his meager pay just because he can, and that Cage pursues him halfway around the world to collect that meager pay is just a great story with some fun interplay between the two characters in the second half.


If "Luke Cage, Hero for Hire" had ended with issue #16, with Luke and his girlfriend Claire walking off into the sunrise of a brand new day, leaving behind them the shadows of the past and the shady characters that belonged in them, it would have stood as one of the great works of comicdom and would be spoken of with great lament. Unfortunately, comics being comics, the series continued on (under the title "Luke Cage, Power Man"). Although none of the tales that follow are bad--and art-wise some are even better than the early issues--the stories are never quite as engaging as they were in those first 16 issues. The final 1/5th of the book features a slow, but steady decline, with Cage facing the Circus of Crime and being stuck in a "The Night Stalker"-inspired tale making it obvious that the series' greatest moments are well behind it once page 500 of this collection is reached.

I've read a small handful of stories from the "Luke Cage & Iron Fist: Heroes for Hire" period, but I generally found them unimpressive in every way. Although the title lasted through the 1980s, ultimately being cancelled after some 120 issues, the best of those stories can be found in the "Essential Iron Fist" volume (which I will get around to reviewing in the space eventually).

Luke Cage has made sporadic appearances in Marvel's titles over the decades since losing his own book, with one of the most noteworthy being a stretch in "The Punisher" some 15 years ago by now, during which Frank Castle was turned into a black man via plastic surgery. More recently, Cage has shaved his head and grown a goatee to match the look of a modern blacksploitation character. I've not actually read any of the stories since the above-mentioned Punisher appearance, but I've heard nothing good about them.