Archive for September 8, 2018

There’s glory for you

Posted in FILM, literature, Politics with tags , , , , , , , , on September 8, 2018 by dcairns

I have a goddamn cold, with accompanying lung-ructions so body-racking that I may have to forgo my scheduled trip to Glasgow tomorrow to see Joe Dante’s THE MOVIE ORGY, a prospect that vexes me even more than the sniffles, consumption and sweats.

By co-inky-dink I pursued a Borzage project by watching NO GREATER GLORY (1934), in which a small boy’s zealous pursuit of gang warfare (the cute, rough-and-tumble kind, not the nasty, switch-blade and chains kind) results in him contracting pneumonia. Borzage is often weird, and this anti-war parable or-is-it? is a fine example. The boy’s life-threatening condition introduces the other kids to the real stakes of warfare, but at the same time allows him to demonstrate pluck and grit and schoolboy honour, which the film appears to value just as fervently as its young heroes.

George P. Breakston is the main kid. He went on to co-direct THE MANSTER, which I suppose I have to rewatch now in search of Borzagean influence.

Good use of Frankie Darro’s haunted mug (top), as he morphs from strutting bully/fascist to hollow-eyed witness of tragedy. Great, almost purely physiognomic work: when he plays mean, you hate his ugly face and can’t see him as anything other than villainous. When he plays sad, you think, “What a great tragic face he has.”

There’s also some wild rear-projection used for pedestrian action, something of a Borzage feature at this time (see also MAN’S CASTLE). Here, little Georgie towers over an approaching motorcyclist in a background presumably intended for an adult star.

Based on a Ferenc Molnar autobiographical novel (they were running out of his plays?), this is one of those countless thirties films set in Hungary for no discernible reason, so Borazage unspools some scenic Budapest footage behind his actors. Capra associate Jo Swerling wrote the script (we’re at Columbia).

I’m not sure if this is first-rate Borzage, but maybe I’m just too packed with phlegm to appreciate it fully. But he’s certainly fully engaged, shooting it almost like a silent film. I believe it would be perfectly clear without sound. There are none of the expressionist irruptions I love so much in FB’s work, apart from some feverish hallucinations during the pneumonia sequence ~

I hope I don’t get a translucent Jimmy Butler persecuting me as I toss in my delirium.

Advertisements