Archive for James Finlayson

The Gay Blade Runner

Posted in FILM, Politics with tags , , , , , , , , on March 28, 2017 by dcairns

Blimps! Gimps! Simps! Gender-fluid futurism erupts at The Chiseler, direct from Hippfest!

Here.

Hawks and Sparrows

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2015 by dcairns

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Douglas Fairbaks Jnr. looks with affection at his last hand grenade.

The movie is the 1930 version of THE DAWN PATROL. Richard Barthelmess’s hard-drinking WWI flier in this looks set to transmute into his character from THE LAST FLIGHT, made the following year. This is an early Howard Hawks talkie. If SCARFACE is atypical of the filmmaker, with its psychopathic characters and expressionistic flourishes, other titles of the same period often show Hawks searching for the fluidity of his mature style, and wrestling with subject matter that isn’t always sympatico.

Aviator/writer John Monk Saunders’ source story, The Flight Commander, deals with people on the verge of destruction, with equal odds whether said destruction will be self-inflicted or brought about by war. Hawks never liked crybabies much, and would have made a lousy grief counsellor, so for the first half of the film he struggles to generate sympathy for Neil Hamilton’s booze-and-guilt-ridden Major. But Hawks liked the story enough to recycle elements later — the active pilot hates the desk jockey, and then he gets the desk jockey’s job, sending other men out to die.

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Richard Barthelmess (great, underrated actor), in engine oil and goggles hobo clown makeup, comforts a traumatized Gardner James. While the callous viewer prays that GJ can get shot down to lighten up the film.

The movie seems to get more fluid as it goes on. Early scenes are stilted, with a distinct LACK of Hawksian overlapping dialogue — it’s underlapping, if anything — one scene has two characters commenting on an offscreen argument, which they can apparently hear. But we don’t get to hear anything, imparting a surreal, mediumistic tinge to their conversation.

Ernest Haller’s oily smudge photography is wonderful, all soft focus and blurred shadows. The sets look cheap up close (painted brickwork fails to trompe l’oeil) but terrific in wide shot. And in places, the dipso camaraderie, heartless yet earnest professionalism, and underplaying (especially Barthelmess, decades ahead of his co-stars) suggest the Hawks of a few years later.

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The cast also sports Frank McHugh and, in an almost unique dramatic role, James Finlayson. The frequent Laurel & Hardy antagonist is fascinating to watch, dialling down his comedy schtick and turning it to (sort-of) dramatic purposes. This includes a very mild exclamation of “D’oh!” early on, and towards the end an actual double-take, as he witnesses the wrong man getting into a plane for a suicide mission. Probably you shouldn’t cast the Finn in a tragedy, but that’s just the kind of thing Hawks WOULD do.

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Below should really have been the film’s last shot, every story point having been settled by this scenic moment, but the filmmakers can’t resist a spectacular bomber raid sequence, one of several dazzling and no doubt dangerous action climaxes. This one combines high-quality miniatures, dodgy rear-projection, and gobsmacking real aerial and demolition footage, including two shots pointing straight down at the target as a bomb dwindles into invisibility and then sends half the landscape erupting upwards straight into the lens. Real stuff!

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“Going west.”

The Sunday Intertitle: “First it was Hess, now him.”

Posted in FILM, Politics with tags , , , , on January 6, 2013 by dcairns

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Not really an intertitle. But a joke, since it appears right after someone says, “Now let’s go to England.” And a sophisticated, Lubitschian joke, since it requires the viewer to recognise the fact that Scotland is not England. Even some of the English don’t realise that.

The film, of course, is TO BE OR NOT TO BE, and we watched it with Marvellous Mary, who had recently enjoyed THE SHOP AROUND THE CORNER and realised she hadn’t seen much Lubitsch. I always forget this one more-or-less finishes in my homeland. All so that a man dressed as Hitler can parachute into a haystack and startle the local farmers into uttering the line quote at top.

Hess, of course, had flown to Scotland, bailed by parachute (breaking a leg) and promptly got himself arrested. He claimed he was trying to broker a peace deal, but mystery surrounds his trip — he doesn’t seem to have been acting in any official capacity. He couldn’t have made peace all by himself, really, could he? Or if he could, can I? Why don’t I?

Attention to detail: the two farmers are played by authentic Hollywood Scotsmen, prolific Fifer Alec Craig (from Dunfermline) and arch-foe to Laurel & Hardy, that axiom of cinema, James Finlayson (from nearby Larbert). Even though only one of them has a line, Lubitsch evidently wanted convincingly dour faces.

It’s a little sad to see Finlayson looking so old — like Laurel & Hardy, he should be invulnerable to time, we feel — but good to see him doing his bit for the Old Country. He also turns up, all-too-briefly, in FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT (as a Dutch peasant!), another anti-Nazi movie made before America’s entry into the war. I’ve always intended to visit Larbert to see if there’s a big bronze statue of him tearing his hair out in the town square.

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To Be or Not to Be (1942)