Out of the Past (1947)

If there's any picture out there that might get you to take up smoking and boozing it's probably this one.  Everyone smokes in this thing and they look pretty good doing it.  We got Mitchum smoking.  We got Kirk Douglas smoking.  We got femme fatales smoking.  We got Mitchum drinking.  A lot.  We got bars.  We got cabanas.  We got smokey night clubs.  We got bourbon.  We got smoking while driving.  Maybe a little drinking while driving.  We got smoking in black and white which looks much better than smoking in color.  Hell, we even got some smoking before and after fishing.  This picture's got everything an addictive personality could want and dread at the same time.  If some kid came up to me with a cigarrette dangling from his lips and said he saw this picture and had to try it for himself I'd probably just nod my head knowingly and ask if I could bum a smoke.  If this picture came out today it would probably be rated X for smoking.  Fucking MPAA. 

What we also got is a pretty god damned labyrinthine story that nearly lost me at about the halfway point which is one of the reasons I just gave up and started paying attention to all the smoking going on.  What is it with these noirs (film term I learned on the internet) that strive for befuddlement as an emotion?  Well, I haven't seen too many noirs to be honest.  Just this and The Big Sleep (off the top of my head).  The Big Sleep makes this one seem like Star Wars in regards to plotular complications.  And yet, despite my confusion, I can honestly say this is a great motion picture.  It's involving (emotionally and intellectually), beautifully shot, has some great performances, and never becomes predictable beyond the fact that we know a lot of these characters are gonna die.  Yeah, half the time I had no idea what was going on, and I'm dreading the part of this write up where I mention the plot, but I was never less than captivated.  Shit man, I'll say it.  Great fucking movie.  Better than The Big Sleep anyway.

The story started off simply enough.  We got a guy coming into a small town called Bridgeport looking for a man named Bailey.  Bailey runs the gas station and is played by Robert Mitchum so we're pretty sure he's not entirely on the up and up.  You might even say the guy looking for him has come out of his past.  Whenever bad men try to turn their lives around their past almost always catches up with them.  Bailey is trying to live a quiet existence now.  He's friends with some deaf and dumb kid that works for him at the gas station. He's got a girl that he plans to marry.  And he loves to fish and smoke.  He's covered up his past for the most part as exemplified by the part where his girl asks him if he's ever been married before and he responds with "not that I can remember".

Well, this guy comes into town thinking Bailey is somebody else.  That somebody would be Jeff Markham, who used to work for a heavy named Whit (Kirk Douglas).  Apparently, he used to be some sort of private dick a while back, had a partner who still works as a bag man for Whit, but whatever shit he used to pull is never made abundantly clear.  His past is mysterious and he did some bad things is the point.  This part of the picture reminded me of Cronenberg's History of Violence except that Bailey/Markham gives up pretty quickly and confesses to his girlfriend, who is surprisingly accepting.  Jeff's gonna go with this man to Lake Tahoe, meet with Whit, see what he wants, and then come back so they can get married.  No complications whatsoever, he promises her.

Complications ensue.  Turns out Whit wants him to find an old flame of his named Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer).  That's what he's good at, apparently.  Finding people.  Whit wants her back.  Kathie's fled to Mexico and Jeff is forced/payed to follow her.  He finds her and, predictably, they have a whirlwind affair.  Some time passes, things are going well, Jeff and Kathie make plans to run, Whit and his cronies show up in Mexico, awkwardness, tension, drinking and smoking, etc.  Jeff has to cover things up, says she's already moved on, here let's have some bourbon and some smokes while Jeff contemplates how to get out of this sticky situation, etc.  Kathie walks into view, Jeff says "hey, look over there", etc.  The story then takes Kathie and Jeff, via steamer, north to San Francisco.  Jeff told Whit she headed down to South America, but he's too smart to buy that shit.  Things get progressively complex as Jeff's former partner, and current Whit employee, Stephanos spots Jeff at the racetrack...and now I just realized I'm regurgitating plot.  Sorry, there's a lot of it.

Here's a quick sum up:  Jeff and Kathie have a falling out involving murder and forty thousand dollars.  Jeff returns to Bridgeport and his bride to be.  His past catches up with him again.  Jeff's hired for another job by Whit.  Kathie is back in the picture.  He does the job Whit hires him for.  There's another murder.   Back to Bridgeport.  More shit comes out of his past, etc.  A lot of shit happens in this one.  Very few characters are innocent.  Even the deaf and dumb kid shows how a simple rod and reel can be a lethal weapon.  I stopped trying to keep up with the goings on and just began focusing on the characters and the thick atmosphere.  Also, the snappy dialogue which was incredible.

For example.  An exchange between Kathie and Jeff when she thinks he's going to kill her.

Kathie:  I don't want to die.
Jeff:  Neither do I, but if I have to, I'll die last.
puff puff

Jane Greer portrays Kathie as one of those nasty type bitches that you can't help but love even as she's twisting a knife into your back.  Slowly.  She's the definition of a femme fatale.  Mitchum's Jeff Markham is interesting in that he seems pretty slow half the time but he somehow manages to stay ahead of the game, just enough.  Things aren't going to end well for anybody.   People die off screen and then their bodies just show up.   There's no chance Markham can escape his past and have that life he tried to have, but we root for him anyway.  It's not often that Mitchum can make us sympathize with his characters, but he achieves that here.

Someday I'll check out more of these film noir type deals.  The director (Jack Turner?) is probably best known for his Cat People picture (unseen by me) and I guess a couple episodes of "Bonanza".  I can't imagine anything he's done topping this one however.  It's overly complex without becoming boring.  We're not sure why the characters are doing what they're doing or which side they're on half the time.  These are all bad, selfish, people even if some of them are trying to change their ways.  Despite all this, the heartbreak we feel at the end is genuine and deserved.

Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man (1943)

The title Frankenstein meets The Wolf Man is a bit of a misnomer.  First of all, Frankenstein isn't even in the picture.  It's Frankenstein's monster.  I suppose that title could be referring to Dr. Frankenstein's daughter, Elsa but I doubt it.  Obviously, what they are really referring to is the monster which, of course, isn't Frankenstein.  It's his creation.  So, anyway, The Wolf Man and Frankenstein's monster meet up for about ten minutes.  This thing was almost as disappointing as Alien Vs. Predator.  Mostly it was just boring.

Still, I can't dispute the atmosphere in this thing.  We got a full heaping of that shit.  Again with the matte paintings, the forest scenes filmed indoors, the fog machines, the beautiful black and white.  Unfortunately, all that production is let down by an incredibly slight story and Bela Lugosi's laughably bad performance as Frankenstein's monster.  According to the wikipedia (or some other source I can't remember) Lugosi turned down the role in the original Frankenstein because he wanted dialogue.  Here, they gave him some...and then cut all those moments out.  Thankfully for us, Karloff was the one that made the monster famous. 

Anyway, I didn't enjoy this picture nearly as much as I enjoyed The Wolf Man.  What we got here is a sequel that throws continuity out the window.  If you remember the first picture, the Wolf Man (aka Larry Talbot - a returning Lon Chaney jr.) was beaten to death with a silver walking stick by his unknowing father, Claude Rains.  As this picture opens, a couple grave robbers enter the cemetery hoping to rob the monies that Talbot was buried with.  They unearth the corpse which is then revived by the full moon.  Jugulars get ripped (off screen) and now we have ourselves a movie!  Unfortunately, things get really boring from there.  No one believes Talbot is actually Talbot.  And, why should they?  He's dead.  That would be impossible.  Anyway, Talbot spends the entire picture moping around and trying to figure a way to kill himself since obviously silver is ineffective.

Which brings him to Dr. Frankenstein's lair.  Maybe Frank can help him to die?  Unfortunately, the good doctor is away...or dead.  Who can be bothered with remembering all this shit?  He does encounter the Doctor's daughter though. I guess they had a fling.  Maybe not.  I watched this a week ago.  Struggling to remember minor details.  Anyway, Talbot ends up in some catacombs where he finds some tall doofus looking fellow trapped in ice (I think I missed that particular Frankenstein sequel).  He frees him and the creature shambles around clumsily as if he's in an Abbot and Costello picture.  He's fucking goofy.  No menace here.  So, some things happen.   More things happen.  Talbot and the monster fight eventually.  They're both swept away in a flood or some shit and then the picture ends.  Lugosi was better as the gypsy-wolf in part one.  Am I wrong for not enjoying this shit?

The Wolf Man (1941)

Having recently seen The Wolf Man remake and having not properly reviewed it (it was good bloody fun) I thought it would be a good idea to watch the original. And, so, I did watch it. It's certainly one of the more interesting of the classic Universal horror pictures out there. To be fair, I've only seen (off the top of my head) Creature From The Black Lagoon, Frankenstein, and The Bride of Frankenstein. Bride was, and still is, the best of that lot.

Lon Chaney jr stars as Lawrence Talbot who returns home to his families estate after the mysterious death of his brother. Claude Rains plays his father. Some broad plays Talbot's love interest. Also, there are gypsies (some old broad and Bela Lugosi). Talbot's love interest sells him a walking stick. There's tension between father and son. Not much happens for a little while. Good set-bound atmosphere; matte paintings, fog machines, fake trees, etc. One night, Lugosi turns into a wolf and attacks some dame. Talbot fights it off with his stick which, incidentally, is made of silver and eventually kills it. Not before he's been bitten. With the bite comes a curse, the old gypsy recites a poem, something about the mark of a pentagram, people think Talbot's crazy, he turns into a wolf, maybe kills someone, Talbot gets depressed, etc, etc.

I loved this picture but let's be honest here. It ain't perfect. First of all, Chaney (perhaps due to his rampant alcoholism) looks about ten years older than Claude Rains. It's not a deal breaker, but their differing appearences stand out like a sore paw. Second of all, why is it that (in these old pictures) the guy changing into a wolf always seems to change feet first? What's with the feet? Sure, maybe the transformation effects are great for their time, but couldn't they at least have started with the face...or maybe the midsection?

Minor quibbles aside, the character of Lawrence Talbot is a good one. At first, he looks for ways to cure his curse but then he just sorta settles for wanting to die. This shit is more tragic than the misunderstood monster from Frankenstein. Talbot's a bit like the incredible hulk. Once transformed, his humanity takes a back seat to his instinct and also his snapping jaws. Instead of foiling criminal masterminds, he rips out jugulars. Unfortunately, learning to control the wolf part is not really an option. Only thing he can do is bite his girlfriend and then maybe they can have some adult wolf fun during the next full moon. That doesn't happen.

One more quibble. If you have a silver walking stick you shouldn't really fear walking around the English moors during a full moon. Hit the beast once and it goes down. Keep at it and he's dead within a minute or two. Why is it so easy? I can understand the whole silver bullet concept. Bullet pierces the skin, hits an organ, infects the blood stream. That's pretty understandable. Beating the thing with a silver walking stick? Not the same thing. Maybe it stings a bit, causes a welt, some bruises. I don't know. Is it like kryptonite? I guess that would make more sense. I guess we could kill Superman with a kryptonite walking stick? Just hit him a few times? Whatever. Regardless, The Wolf Man is a great movie.

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)

Well shit, there are some of you that will never even give this picture a chance. I mean, it was made over sixty years ago. You'll assume it's pretty dated and stuff. Minimal violence, no nudity, etc. It's probably even black and white for chrissakes! I can't dispute any of that. All true. I also can't dispute that it's one of the best pictures I have ever seen. Of any era.

Some guy (you may have heard of him) named Humphrey Bogart plays some guy named Fred Dobbs, a down on his luck drifter living (for the moment) in Tampico, Mexico. He spends his days asking rich americans (actually, it's always the same American, played by director John Huston) for a few Pesos to buy some food. When the rich American calls him out and asks why he only seems to pick on him, Dobbs responds with a 'sorry mister, I guess I never looked at your face....just your hands and the money you give me". Dobbs is sorta pathetic is the point. Then he uses the money to buy some booze with. Later, Dobbs hooks up with fellow drifter, Curtin (Tim Colt). Even later than that, they meet up with yet another drifter, this time a loveable old coot (Walter Huston, the director's father) named Howard. Howard tells them about some gold just waiting to be prospected from this Mexican mountain (the Sierra Madre of the title) and so the three of them head off for grand adventure....and also some old fashioned descent into madness type shit, etc.

Shit man, this is about as good as movie making gets. We got a brilliant set up where we think we learn most of what we need to know about the three principal characters; Dobbs (greedy, capable of violence), Curtin (earnest, capable of violence), and Howard (old, potential comedic relief). Turns out, Howard's the most bad ass of the three while also being funny, capable of violence (as long as it's right), and full of heart. His mile a minute delivery is a thing of beauty and, at no point, feels like a device added into this thing to provide some humor. It's his character. Hustons' is the best performance of the picture and that's saying something when you consider just how great Bogart's work is here.

Bogart's arc as Dobbs resembles Daniel Day Lewis' as Daniel Plainview (There Will Be Blood) only if it were greatly abbreviated. At first, he's happy to panhandle a couple pesos but, later, as he begins to bring in the gold he starts to isolate himself, protect what's his, distrust those closest to him (Howard and Curtin). Bogart doesn't play it too over the top and manages to keep it on a plain of existence we can identify with. Little of his backstory is ultimately revealed. Times were tough and he did (flee to Mexico) what he thought he had to.

Mexico, at the time (maybe still, never been there), was a dangerous place with banditos roaming the countryside looking to rob and kill, especially white people. After our three characters board a train to take them deeper into the country, they are immediately attacked by a group of such bandits on horseback. It seems like every passenger on the train is armed, so the attack is thwarted. This group of banditos will reappear throughout the film and ultimately lead to one of the more famous lines ("we don't need no stinking badges"), when they pose as federales, in film.

Well, I don't know, don't wanna spoil too much here. The three find their mountain, Curtin and Dobbs follow along slowly as Howard double times it toward the site. They rig some shit, discover some gold, build a mine, etc. They spend a lot of time on that mountain (months, perhaps). Howard and Curtin do a good job of maintaining their cool. Meanwhile, Dobbs just gets more and more restless, getting up in the middle of the night to check his stash, making wild accusations, sticking his hand under rocks even when told there's some sorta of Mexican lizard under there that will bite into him and not let go even after they cut off it's head. There's a great scene where Dobbs gets up (carrying a pistol) in the middle of the night, followed by Howard (also armed), and then later Curtin wakes up (gun in hand). The tension was so palpable I expected someone to get shot, especially with the way Dobbs had been coming unglued. Dobbs carried his gun with murder on his mind. Howard and Curtin, merely for protection.

What amazed me about this movie (beyond the story, performances, depth of characters, etc) was how gritty and violent it seemed without even showing any of the results of that violence. We see acts of violence (fighting, gun shots) but, at the time, censors woudn't allow you to show someone actually being shot or stabbed. Huston brilliantly frames these moments so we can still imagine the worst and somehow it seems like we were witness. No cuts, after the act. The camera lingers, just not on the victim (which it doesn't show at all). For example, a certain character at the end meets a horrible fate at the hands of banditos. We see the machete swing and then the trail the head left as it rolled into a little brook.

Too often with older movies it seems like the characters are not really a part of their environment. Not here. Howard, Curtin, and Dobbs get grimier with each day that passes on that mountain. The attention to detail here is astounding. Their beards grow a little at a time, their hair (including Bogart's semi-famous wig) more matted. This isn't Ricky Nelson in Rio Bravo (no offense to that otherwise pretty great picture).

This one's pretty close to perfect so what else can I add here? There are lots of little offbeat touches which kept me off guard. Like the American (Bruce Bennett) that made his way to the camp and basically said they have three choices; 1) cut him in 2) kill him or 3) make him leave. The three principals ultimately decide they have to kill him (even good hearted Howard agrees this is the best option) only when they're about to go through with it, the American points out several banditos making their way up the mountain. Suddenly, they kinda like the guy and later like him even more after he helps to fend off the banditos at the cost of his own life. Now, they're traumatized over the loss of their "buddy" even though they'd agreed to kill him barely an hour earlier.

Later, Howard (with a reputation as a medicine man in Mexico), in a moment that builds both plot and character, gets called to a village to heal a dying boy (pay close attention to the music in this scene, it's great). The only fault I can find with the picture is how Howard speaks Spanish, almost as if he's reading it without understanding (I looked it up, it's true). However, this actually works when you think about it because Howard speaks English (rat-a-tat-tat) the same way!

Yeah, it's a masterpiece but you didn't need me to tell you that. We got John "I fucking directed The Maltese Falcon and also Annie you got a fucking problem with that?" Huston, we got Walter "Best supporting actor for this god damned picture" Huston, and we got Humphrey "I was in this, Casablanca and The Maltese Falcon but only one an oscar for The motherfucking African Queen" Bogart. The point is, this one's worth your time. It's as ahead of it's time as something like Citizen Cane (and I love Cane) in this humble reviewer's nearly worthless opinion.