Archive for Claude Dauphin

Durand Durand Durand

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , on September 20, 2016 by dcairns

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No, I’m not singing the PINK PANTHER theme tune — Durand Durand is a character in BARBARELLA who is introduced to us by Barb’s boss*, Claude Dauphin, and Durand singular is a character played by the selfsame M. Dauphin in LE MONDE TREMBLERA (1939), first mentioned yesterday. So I’m obsessed with completing this incipient trilogy, either by finding a third Dauphin sci-fi movie, or a third Dauphin movie involving a character called Durand. Call it OCD (Obsession Claude Dauphin).

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Durand/Dauphin, assisted by the poacher from RULES OF THE GAME, has invented a sort of Strickfadenesque apparatus which allows him to expose a kind of photographic plate which then yields a sort of life-line which can be interpreted to yield the exact date of the subject’s forthcoming demise, no matter what causes it. It’s tested on a prisoner bound for the guillotine — the authorities attempt to pull a fast one by commuting his sentence — and he expires of an infarction on the spot and at the exact moment foretold.

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Along for the ride is his backer, Erich Von Stroheim (a nimble and heartfelt bit of work from the occasional leaden star), whose Big Idea is to sell the machine to an insurance company which can use it to eliminate bad risks. But Dauphin/Durand, possessed of the Edison spark, wants his gift to be available to everyone who can afford it. The trouble is, once wealthy, powerful individuals have yielded to the morbid urge to gaze upon the hour of their ends, they tend to become disincentivized with regards to running huge corporations or whatever important work they do. Worldwide economic chaos looms. And then Durand/Dauphin, perhaps foolishly, pulls a Seth Brundle, getting drunk and testing his invention on himself…

Richard Pottier directs, not too ably — he persistently fails to match closeups so that a shot of Stroheim looking screen left is intercut with a shot of Dauphin also looking screen left. “What is there, screen left, that’s so interesting?” the audience wonders. But the photography and script are strong — Clouzot and his collaborator J. Villard pull of a great running gag with a poltroon who’s been promised he’ll live to be 100: bored already in his 40s, he attempts to shoot himself but continually fails… The film’s jarring tonal shifts aren’t typical of Clouzot, but its cynicism is — even as it positions itself as a warning against cynicism.

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*Being Barbarella’s boss sounds like a pretty good position to have. How do you get to be Barbarella’s boss? Is there a form you have to fill in? I hate forms, but I would fill this one in quickly and efficiently. I guess, technically (and according to the credits) he’s actually President of the Earth, which sounds like a lot of work, responsibility etc. I wonder if you could leave the presidential duties to someone else and just be Barbarella’s boss. It would be worth being President of Earth if Barbarella was included in the deal, I guess, but I would worry that running an entire G-class planet might eat up most of my time and leave me with very little opportunity to tell Barbarella to do things (missions, etc), which would be a bitter irony indeed.

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A Date for Your Diary

Posted in FILM with tags , , , on September 19, 2016 by dcairns

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Henri-Georges Clouzot co-scripted LE MONDE TREMBLERA (1939), in which Claude Dauphin (yay! Barbarella’s boss!) invents a machine that can predict, with total accuracy, the time of a given subject’s death, is quite an interesting piece of work. I mean, that’s a subject nobody else has tackled in that way, ever.

Fiona pointed out that Clouzot, who had been in a TB sanatorium for years, was uniquely placed to address this topic. And he gives us, in Dauphin’s cynical scientist, one of his most unsympathetic leads — and that’s arguably a crowded field.

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Dauphin is essentially unrecognizable if you know him only from fifties and sixties films, as we did. Until he opens his mouth.

So, this is Barbarella’s boss’s first sci-fi film, and BARBARELLA is his last — we just need a middle one to complete the Informal Trilogy. Anyone?

Primate Suspect

Posted in FILM, literature, Science with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on July 13, 2012 by dcairns

So, back to my demented quest to see every film depicted in Denis Gifford’s monster bible, A Pictorial History of Horror Movies, and this time it was Roy Del Ruth’s Poe adaptation PHANTOM OF THE RUE MORGUE which passed before my eyeballs, albeit flat rather than in its original 3D. As long as we’re talking about re-releasing Hitchcock’s DIAL M and De Toth’s HOUSE OF WAX in 3D versions, I’d put a vote in for this baby. The 3D gags looked amusing flat, but there were a few things like a shower of gaily-hued Warnercolor balloons that suggested a little more than the usual “poke-em-in-the-eye-with-a-sharp-stick” approach to immersive entertainment.

We begin with some smudgy Parisian rooftops, a perfect match for the gorgeous 2-strip settings of Warners’ 30s horrors DR X and MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM. Throughout, the colour schemes of this film alternate giddily between such subdued, marshy tones, and eye-popping bubble-gum effects more consistent with a musical.

While the aging Del Ruth has lost his handle on a particular kind of gutsy performance style that saw him through the pre-code era (though we can see that misfire spectacularly on his attempt at THE MALTESE FALCON/DANGEROUS FEMALE), he has a comic book sensibility that’s always fun. The zanier moments of this flick, which defy plausibility quite openly and plummet into an inter-stool area of conflicted response (creepy/perverse/amusing/embarrassing) harken back to the director’s days as a gagman at Keystone, particularly this revealing clue —

For a thoroughly daft film (pair it with RDR’s ALLIGATOR PEOPLE but don’t blame me if you laugh yourself through the floor) this boasts some distinguished writing talent — Harold Medford helped script THE DAMNED DON’T CRY and THE KILLER IS LOOSE, and James R. Webb did even better with CAPE FEAR, CHEYENNE AUTUMN and VERA CRUZ. Neither seems to have had a particular affinity for horror films, but they reconfigure Dupin’s detective feats into a new-ish plot which eschews Universal’s Dr Mirakle bestiality shenanigans but gets into some surprising areas — physiognomy and Lombroso, behaviourism and Pavlov, primate communication and psychopathology. Much of this stuff was fairly new to movies, and certainly pretty exotic: research has clearly been done, even if it’s all filtered through the Hollywood screenwriters’ patented bullshittifier.

At the root of it all, as is obvious from the start, is Karl Malden (a man with a face built for 3D) and his pet gorilla, Sultan, the two best actors in the film. Malden suavely walks a tightrope between fanatical, method-y commitment and unavoidable contempt for the material, and Charles Gemora as Sultan turns in a compelling physical performance (reprising his role from the original Universal MURDERS IN THE RM.

The gorilla suit is obviously just that, even if it’s well made, but this ape does have a few more character nuances than most men in suits. There’s also Claude Dauphin, the only Frenchman with a French accent in the film, who’s pretty enjoyable as the worst detective you’ll ever see, and the lovely Patricia Medina (who just died in May) who doesn’t have enough of a part to properly register, alas. Fat credit, thin character.

In the words of Godard, “It’s not blood, it’s red.” Literally, in this case.

I thought this was going to be terrible but we had a blast with it. “I *loved* that!” declared Fiona.