Archive for Arthur Housman

Rashomon Amour

Posted in Dance, Fashion, FILM, MUSIC with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on January 3, 2018 by dcairns

Fiona was VERY taken with Kay Kendall’s drunk scene in LES GIRLS. I was too, but also taken aback. We’ve all learned, supposedly, to be more sensitive and thus to be a touch affronted at Hollywood’s flip treatment of alcoholism. But I find I’m rarely that bothered by Arthur Housman doing his detailed dipso routine in Laurel & Hardy films. Kendall playing a solitary drinker who gets riotously blotto a la Judith Hearne is a bit stronger. But she does play it magnificently.

Lots to enjoy in this one, even if George Cukor could never be bothered staging his own musical numbers: here he passes them to Jack Cole, so they’re in safe hands.

It’s all a meditation on the nature of truth and the elusiveness of reality, conducted by MGM. Like RASHOMON with better songs. Although not many of the numbers are that memorable — the set design makes the biggest splash when Gene Kelly pastiches Brando in THE WILD ONE.

 

It’s Kelly’s last real Hollywood musical leading man role, and already he’s somewhat sidelined: you might think making him the object of desire for three glamorous women (Kendall, Mitzi Gaynor and the more obscure Taina Elg, who is actually very good despite the Scrabble-score name — “She’s got a great LOOK!” diagnosed Fiona — some credit belongs to Orry Kelly here). The narrative emerges via three competing testimonies in a libel case, which ought by rights to be delivered by les girls, but Kelly still had enough clout to elbow Gaynor out the way and deliver the denouement himself.

A sexy masterstroke by the naughty Orry — backless dresses that manage to make perfectly decent leggings look as rude as bare bottoms ~

The story is by Vera Caspary of LAURA fame, who must deserve some of the credit for the waspish dialogue. Brandishing a placard at us declaring WHAT IS TRUTH?, the  movie can seem at times too impressed with its own cleverness — a religious sandwich-board would be unlikely to quote Pontius Pilate, methinks — but it’s tastefully lavish, oddball and hugely entertaining, which is what we wanted over the festive period.

Last Christmas Fiona had acute depression, anxiety, horrible medication side-effects, and we both had flu and chronic insomnia and the cat was dying. This year Fiona only broke her ankle slightly so it can be considered a great improvement.

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The Sunday Intertitle: The Flamingo Kid

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 1, 2017 by dcairns

 

SLIPPING WIVES is supposed to be a star vehicle for Priscilla Dean, who used to be big — she was in OUTSIDE THE LAW and WHITE TIGER for Tod Browning. But gagman-director Fred Guiol can’t find much business for her, which means the slack gets taken up by Stan Laurel as the traveling salesman and Oliver Hardy as the butler. The two get quite a lot of scenes together, most of them roughhouse stuff, but the idea of them as a team hasn’t quite taken hold yet. It’s only 1927.

An artist’s wife wants to make her neglectful husband jealous, and Stan is enlisted as faux-respondent. The intertitle greeting his entrance seems like a paraphrase of whatever Buster Keaton was spoofing in HIS first intertitle as a solo comedian, in THE ‘HIGH SIGN’. Was this “came from nowhere” line a famous title card for William S. Hart or someone like that? Lost to time?

There are several good laughs in this but it’s not quite there yet — Stan and Ollie’s hairstyles would be enough to confirm that. But the story came in handy — THE FIXER UPPERS reuses a good part of it. Hard-bitten vamp Mae Busch recruits greetings card salesman Babe Hardy as faux beau in this one, and Charles “Ming the Merciless” Middleton is hilariously cast as the husband. And the stakes are raised tremendously: Middleton, a crack shot, challenges Ollie the interloper to duel to the death with pistols at midnight.

In the local artist’s bar, Stan blows the foam from his beer into Ollie’s lap, causing him to complain that not only has he got to die, but that Stan is making his last moments miserable. Which is indeed Stan’s purpose in life, though he’s unaware of it. The boys resolve not to keep the fatal rendezvous, but just then they meet an old acquaintance from reel one, comedy dipsomaniac Arthur Housman.

Cut to the boys, now completely drunk, being delivered by cops to Middleton’s house. The cops found the card Chas. presented in Ollie’s pocket and think this is his address. With the perfect logic of a nightmare, Ollie will awaken at exactly the hour he’s to be shot at, in just the place it’s scheduled to occur.

As always with matters concerning Ollie’s fate, it gets worse. Busch convinces her  grim-visaged, overly declamatory husband that she was only fooling to make him jealous — instants before Stan’s snoring gives away the boys’ presence in the marital bed itself. You see the brilliance of it: the explanation has been given once, and believed, which means it won’t be accepted a second time, even if true. This obeys a screenwriting principle that if any good luck should befall your protagonist, it must happen at the most inopportune, or indeed disastrous, moment.

The climax of the film isn’t quite up to the middle act, but it’s all very enjoyable. Hard to believe this was made right alongside the disappointing BONNIE SCOTLAND. That moment of strongest suspense — the boys in a room with a deadly enemy, but as yet undiscovered — is done even better in the earlier SCRAM!, where it’s kind of extended for the better part of the film. Haven’t seen that one since I was a kid, when it caused my mother, a vulnerable target for comic suspense (she screams at Harold Lloyd human fly stuff) to have near fits.