The American Film Institute, in its list of America’s 100 funniest films, put Some Like it Hot right at the top, at Number 1. Humour, like beauty, is subjective, so I’m not sure how many would agree with that decision. What matters is that this film, total farce from beginning to end and a great entertainer, is definitely one of the funniest I’ve seen.
After an eye candy post, it’s time for an eye candy film. This is the sort of film that’s truly beautiful to look at (a prime example of the genre is the Deborah Kerr-Rossano Brazzi flick Count Your Blessings, otherwise avoidable but visually unbeatable). Come September’s like that too: much about it is very soothing to the eyes.
The hero, wealthy Robert Taylor (Rock Hudson) is, for instance, gloriously good-looking:
Guts. Glory. Revenge. Honour. Two brothers in love with the same girl. A tale based on Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s classic poem of the Battle of Balaklava, The Charge of the Light Brigade. Errol Flynn. What more could one ask for?
Well, much better scripting, for one. More believable settings for another, and less melodrama. Flynn, master swashbuckler, delivers as always in this film, but other than that, there wasn’t enough to make it a memorable one for me. Into the trashcan ride these six hundred.
What does a pretty girl brought up in straitlaced Upper Sandusky do in New York City? When she’s the type who sang in the choir back home, and who, though she’d love to be thought of as daring, is always wondering what people would think? When she finds herself bowled off her feet by a very wealthy, attractive man who has no scruples about admitting he’s only after sex?
For Easter, it seemed appropriate to rewatch (and, subsequently, review) a film with a biblical touch to it. I could’ve opted for The Robe or the superb Ben Hur, but decided instead on Quo Vadis—partly because it’s been a while since I saw the film. And also, perhaps, because it stars two people who are just such a feast for the eyes: Robert Taylor and Deborah Kerr. As if that wasn’t enough reason, Quo Vadis also boasts of a brilliant performance by Peter Ustinov.
Last night I saw Rebecca again.
Really; I’m not trying to be corny, but that’s it. I was in the mood for a Hitchcock film, and having recently seen Pride and Prejudice again, I was also very keen on watching more of Olivier’s work. So Rebecca it was. Based on Daphne du Maurier’s novel, this was Hitchcock’s first Hollywood film, even though it’s set in England (in Cornwall, to be precise) and has an almost totally British cast.
I am an unashamed romantic—but I have some stipulations. The romance mustn’t be the type that pops up out of the blue, just by two people looking at each other. It mustn’t consist of just staring, pop-eyed and with a silly grin, at each other. Most important, it must end happily. The ride into the sunset, or the fadeout on a heart-and-soul smooch, is of paramount importance.
That said, here’s one utterly lovely romance I saw a few weeks back. And then again yesterday, just because it was so wonderful.
Like Robert Mitchum, Stewart Granger is one of those actors who just needs to be in a film for me to want to see it. When the film in question boasts of Deborah Kerr opposite Granger, lots of swordplay and palace intrigue, a magnificently villainous villain, and some very fancy costumes: my day is made. And, best of all: not one Granger, but two: he’s in a double role here (well, one of the characters is hardly there, but still). Yippee!
On International Women’s Day, I’d like to raise a toast to all the women I admire. My mother, my sister, sundry relatives, old school and college friends whom I haven’t seen in years, ex colleagues, and even some women I’ve only met in cyberspace but whom I nevertheless respect and admire (memsaab, bollyviewer, and Banno: this is for you). And to Sabrina Mathew, one of the most intelligent, well-read and amazing people I’ve ever met. Here’s to all of us!
Ahem. That sounds like a dedication on a book or an Oscar acceptance speech. And though I mean it sincerely, this perhaps isn’t the forum to get emotional and teary. So back on track, and this time with an unusual film: a Western in which though the star is Robert Taylor, the real heroes are all heroines. A good watch for Women’s Day.
I am a devoted fan of Robert Mitchum, droopy eyes, awesome walk and all. I am also very enthusiastic about film noir (not surprising, since a large portion of Mitchum’s work was noir). Crossfire, made just two years after the end of World War II, focusses on a largely ignored consequence of the war: the sudden demobilisation of soldiers—men who, after years of knowing exactly whom they were supposed to hate, suddenly found themselves with no target for all that festering anger and hatred.
This is a taut, suspenseful film, but also a thought-provoking one, and perhaps a little ahead of its time.
Dustedoff 