Archive for Leopold & Loeb

A Cocktail for the Corpse

Posted in FILM, Theatre with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 19, 2009 by dcairns

cocktail+pour+un+cadavre

“Well, the Davids of this world merely occupy space…”

1) In honour of Hitchcock’s experiment in long-take technique, ROPE, I was going to write this post in one very very long sentence, but then in view of the fact that Hitch begins the film with a blatant cut right after the credits, and features two more in the course of the action which he doesn’t bother to cover up by having actors block the camera with their jackets, I thought, “Why bother?” — although I did also wonder why Hitch had gone to all the trouble of shooting in that style and talking it up as a big experiment and then copped out in those few instances: I mean it’s not as if the idea was totally unsound (photographing a play in real time in a continuous flow of action, as it would be experienced by a theatre audience) or as if he wasn’t very close to achieving it — I even wondered if the second and third cuts were the result of problems in hiding the cuts at the reel changes, but dismissed this idea as improbable… at any rate, I decided to compose my piece in nine or ten long sentences, like Hitchcock’s (more or less) ten long shots.

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“I never strangled a chicken in my life!”

2) Room perhaps for a digression (Already?) — in the recent BBC series Psychoville, a macabre comedy written by Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton of The League of Gentlemen, one episode was given over to a single-take experiment in the ROPE vein, using DePalma-style digital trickery to hide a cut or two in a subtler manner than Hitchcock was able to achieve (and I’ve often wondered why he couldn’t have had somebody pass briskly across the lens from side to side, or zip-panned around the room to hide a cut in a much more unobtrusive way), and playing on the audience’s familiarity with the original in some cunning and amusing ways,  as well as exploiting the fact that suspense plays and bedroom farces share a similar reliance on tension and dramatic irony to create their effects — although the piece isn’t flawless, sometimes shifting comic register too abruptly, and sometimes forcing awkward verbal gags in against the grain of plot and character (when the story is as morbidly amusing as Psychoville’s, you really needn’t strain to insert puns and “jokes”), it’s nevertheless an ambitious and very unusual bit of television, going well beyond straight homage, and I was interested to read the line, “I have done murder,” in the Rope play, since it seems to provide inspiration for a key line in Psychoville: “I did a bad murder.”

3) I’m a bit of a Patrick Hamilton fan, The Slaves of Solitude and Hangover Square being two of my favourite books, so I took this opportunity to finally read his play, the source for Hitchcock’s film, sometimes called Rope’s End but originally titled Rope by its author, who set it in London in 1929, necessitating some adaptation (by Hume Cronyn and Arthur Laurents) to transfer the action to post WWII New York, and from a first floor flat to a penthouse apartment — but the structure is largely unchanged, Hitchcock having carefully looked around for a play with continuous action (the play is in three acts, acts one and two climaxing at suspenseful moments, the action resuming after each break without any time having passed in the play’s world) and remaining true to his principle of not violently altering the shape of a play when bringing it to the screen, since playwrights generally take a good bit of trouble to get the structure right… nevertheless, there are plenty of small difference: a cinema ticket is used as evidence in place of a hat, a poker from the fireplace provides menace in place of a revolver, and a police whistle summons the authorities at the climax, rather than the implausible but dramatic device of having Rupert, the philosopher-detective fire a pistol out the window… in addition to this, there are intriguing anticipations of later Hitchcocks: a tie pin is used as a clue (FRENZY) and a character says, “You wouldn’t hurt a fly,” (PSYCHO) — I’m pretty sure these are coincidental, but they’re amusing nonetheless.

rope7

“Well, murder can be an art, too.”

4) Some of the biggest differences between play and film come from the casting and playing, with Farley Granger a more sympathetic presence than that suggested by Hamilton (Granillo, the play’s version of Philip, is of Spanish descent, a very Agatha Christie way of making him untrustworthy) — although Fiona, who like me saw the film on its re-release in the 80s, found the performance of his lower lip annoying — and James Stewart, merely by being James Stewart, entirely changes Rupert Cadell from a war-weary cynic and homosexual intellectual with a cutting sense of humour, into, well, James Stewart, about whom nothing bad can be suspected — Arthur Laurents suggests that James Mason would have been a better match for the character (better even than Cary Grant, Hitch’s first choice, who found it much too close for comfort) — the result is perfectly decent but a lot less interesting than it could have been — one so rarely gets a snarky gay detective in a thriller, and just imagine a British version with Dirk Bogarde (STOP PRESS: according to Wikipedia, the great Denis Price played in two TV versions, years apart, playing Brandon the first time and Rupert the second: better casting I cannot conceive of)!

rope3

“We all do strange things in our childhood.”

5) ROPE is not only Hitch’s first Technicolor film (adding a whole series of new burdens to a technically challenging production), it’s his first independent one, away from the control of Selznick or anybody else for that matter (except the censor, who flipped when some of the play’s dialogue was used: the English “dear boys” were adjudged unspeakably effeminate) so that he could experiment freely with the long take technique which he’d been interested in for some time, but which Selznick had always forced him to curtail — it might even been supposed that Selznick’s supervision distorted Hitchcock’s technique, causing him to make exactly the kind of technical experiment Selznick would have instantly vetoed, despite the fact that it flew in the face of his own theories about the importance of montage, and that he made the film in reaction to Selznick’s previous interference.

ropeK

“Nobody commits a murder just for the experiment of committing it. Nobody except us.”

6) Leopold and Loeb — Arthur Laurents claims that nobody ever discussed the true-life murder case that inspired Hamilton’s play, but true-crime enthusiast Hitchcock was certainly aware of it — while both play and film end with the supposition that both the killers will hang for their crime, in reality they got off lightly: life plus 99 years, thanks to smart lawyer Clarence Darrow, played by Orson Welles  in the movie COMPULSION (director Richard Fleischer notes with bemusement that Welles disliked being watched by his fellow actors, so when he made his speech to the jury they all had to close their eyes, a striking, dreamlike image which somebody should film one day), a movie which Loeb Leopold tried to block, citing invasion of privacy — anyhow, Leopold Loeb was killed in prison by a fellow inmate who claimed he’d tried to sexually assault him (Chicago Daily News: “Richard Loeb, despite his erudition, today ended his sentence with a proposition.”) but Loeb Leopold volunteered to be infected with malaria for a study of the disease, served his sentence, worked as a lab and x-ray assistant, and donated his organs: I’m guessing he’s the Farley Granger one.

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“Out of character for him to be murdered, too.”

7) John Dall isn’t the most charismatic actor (“He’s hideous!” — Fiona) but he’s effective here and in GUN CRAZY, playing entirely different characters in radically different styles, and these noirish roles have largely outlasted the source of his fame, THE CORN IS GREEN; Sir Cedric Hardwicke has to be the boring voice of moral authority (Hamilton in his character description makes out that this guy is “completely captivating” but rather fails to live up to this in the action and dialogue, whereas the moral voice of Rupert acquires startling power at the end of both play and film because it’s earned by the story and comes as a surprise to both him and us) so he can’t really shine here, but Constance Collier is an amusingly bizarre presence (Hitchcock’s films link up in the oddest ways: Hume Cronyn acted in SHADOW OF A DOUBT and LIFEBOAT and writes here; Emlyn Williams wrote for THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH and acted in JAMAICA INN; and Collier was co-author with Ivor Novello of the play Downhill, which Hitch filmed with Novello in the lead role… I have previously remarked on the striking similarity of the set in ROPE to the one in THE RING) and Joan Chandler is perky and sweet (“Her shoulders are all the rage at the moment,” observes Fiona)… I guess some people would find Douglas Dick likewise charming, but his character is boringly conceived and the actor can’t enliven it — Hamilton’s young lovers are more maladroit, which makes them a little more appealing.

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“Well, now, you don’t really approve of murder, Rupert? If I may?”

8) Random odds and ends — Hitchcock has two cameos, walking buy in the first shot (the only location scene) and as a neon sign outline — this movie would make a seriously dangerous drinking game, all champagne and whisky, with Farley Granger alone enough to jeopardise the liver — remember, a full stop is just a hyphen coming right at you (Charles Fort) — Arthur Laurents reports that, since Edith Evanson was playing a maid, the other actors treated her AS a maid (the same kind of automatic prejudice that caused the actors playing chimps, gorillas and orangs to segregate in the studio canteen on PLANET OF THE APES!) — Evanson is good, in a role that doesn’t exist in the play, a sort of ineffectual mother figure for the boys (Hitch’s villains as often have weak mothers as domineering ones), a Thelma Ritter kind of role replacing the French cook in the play as part of the Americanizing process — the long take style throws up many side-benefits, not all of them obvious, like the extraordinary close-up of Stewart that plays out for about a minute of offscreen dialogue, and the low angle as the maid clears the fatal chest of plates and candelabras, a precursor to the safe-cracking sequence in MARNIE — what is this strange affinity, confirmed in VERTIGO, of James Stewart with green neon light?

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“They’re coming.”

9) Hitch’s independent company, Transatlantic Pictures, set up with Sidney Bernstein and intended to make films on both sides of the ocean, fulfilled its brief in a minimal way: ROPE, filmed in Hollywood, and UNDER CAPRICORN (which I’m in the minority on, since I rather like it) in England, two sort-of-minor but fascinating experiments in long-take storytelling, which form a bridge between the Selznick years and the years as a studio director with considerable but by no means total independence.

OK — can’t resist ending on a quote from the play ~

Rupert: (suddenly letting himself go — a thing he has not done, all the evening, and which he now does with tremendous force, and clear, angry articulation) What do I mean? What do I mean? I mean that you have taken and killed — by strangulation — a very harmless and helpless fellow-creature of twenty years. I mean that in that chest there — now lie the staring and futile remains of something that four hours ago lived, and laughed, and ran, and found it good. Laughed as you could never laugh, and ran as you could never run. I mean that, for your cruel and scheming pleasure, you have committed a sin and a blasphemy against that very life which you now yourself find so precious. And you have done more than this. You have not only killed him, you have rotted the lives of all those to whom he was dear. And you have brought worse than death to his father — an equally harmless old man who has fought his way quietly through to a peaceful end, and to whom the entire universe, after this, will now be blackened and distorted beyond the limits of thought. That is what you have done. And in dragging him round here tonight, you have played a lewd and infamous jest upon him — and a bad jest at that. And if you think, as your type of philosopher generally does, that all life is nothing but a bad jest, then you will now have the pleasure of seeing it played upon yourselves.

Brandon (pale and frozen) What are you saying? What are you doing?

Rupert It is not what I am doing, Brandon. It is what society is going to do. And what will happen to you at the hands of society I am not in a position to tell you. That’s its own business. But I can give you a pretty shrewd guess, I think. (He moves forward to the chest and swings back the lid) You are going to hang, you swine! Hang! Both of you! Hang! (Whistle in hand, he runs hobbling to the window, throws it open, leans out, and sends three piercing whistles into the night)

CURTAIN.

Esther and the swing

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 12, 2008 by dcairns

A fever-dream double feature.

St Joan

Channel 4, home of the cut-price movie matinee, has been showing afternoon films all week starring that AXIOM OF CINEMA, Joan Collins. Two of them had solid auteur credentials, if we can allow the use of the a-word, so I checked them out. That’s Shadowplay — faithfully watching Joan Collins movies, so you don’t have to.

ESTHER AND THE KING has the double-whammy of being directed (and produced, and co-written) by mighty eye-patch wearing wild man Raoul Walsh, and photographed by Mario Bava. I’d caught glimpses of this movie and I’m a sucker for Bava’s trademark Disneyland Blue, which is on display in nearly all this movie’s interiors. Word has it that Walsh liked Bava’swork so much he delegated most of of E&TK to him. It’s certainly a film that has more in common with Bava’s KNIVES OF THE AVENGER or HERCULES IN THE HAUNTED WORLD than it does with WHITE HEAT or GENTLEMAN JIM. Since Bava’s primary focus is the visual, when given his head as a cinematographer he can really subsume a film into his style, becoming its auteur by default (I still don’t like that word, but you know what I mean — the person with the unifying vision). And since energy was always a big part of the Walsh approach, and there’s far less of that in his later work, there is a void to be filled.

(Late-period Walsh is unlikely to win the consideration lately awarded to late Hawks, Ford or Lang. Persons hoping to admire Walsh in his Mature Phase are recommended to sit through THE SHERIFF OF FRACTURED JAW, a Western of Damaged Brain uniting Kenneth More [British cinema's perennial "decent bloke"] with Jayne Mansfield [I.Q. of a genius but she kept it off the screen] and then give the whole thing up as a bad job.)

Dance Hall

Bava fills the void with mind-frazzling candy colours, seen to best advantage in the film’s numerous palace entertainments, starring dancing girls in revealing tunics, or unconvincingly miming Nubian singers – the voice is THAT WOMAN who does all the Ennio Morricone wailing. While it doesn’t quite slide into the autistic trance-state of Howard Hughes’ SON OF SINBAD, which stops the “plot” for a belly-dance every 3 frames (David Bordwell would break his clicker trying to keep score), giving new meaning to the phrase “navel-gazing”, this is still a film more interested in bringing on the next dance number than in sorting out Judeo-Persian politics — and who can blame it? Even in Channel 4′s lamentably cropped 16:9 version, these scenes have a wondrous lustre and pop, as fleshy Italian chorines writhe and stagger. 

Salome's Last Dance

A classic Bava shot: symmetrical framing, asymmetrical and unmotivated coloured lighting on the lions.

Of course, Bava wasn’t hugely interested in performance, and I know you’ll shudder in terror as you read this, but Joan Collins is the best actor in ESTHER AND THE KING. There, I’ve said it. Such a thing exists — a film where Joan stands supreme, talent-wise, if only because she’s surrounded by an unbeatable selection of human planks, lugs, stiffs and dolts. The camp harem commandant is the closest thing to a characterisation on offer (eunuch = homosexual in E&TK’s schema).

Joan’s scenes in the harem are among the most amusing. She starts the film in fine form, attempting random bursts of American accent and doing truly extraordinary things with her face while everybody around her is trying to act. In closeup she’s more subdued, having presumably been fed the Hedy Lamarr dictum on how to look beautiful: “Just stand still and look stupid.” This, Joan can do.

Pope Joan

The Persian shagging-palace is depicted herein as a less austere version of the famous Rank Charm School, where the real-life Joan, along with Barbara Steele and Julie Christie, was educated in deportment, enunciation and, well, charm. This fine institution is satirised in Lauder and Gilliat’s LADY GODIVA RIDES AGAIN, a film in which Joan has an uncredited cameo, along with half the British film industry (“Laughable term!” says Alistair Sim). The school’s graduates were trained in disguising any traces of a working class accent (the late Stratford Johns took great satisfaction in telling me how “common” the Collins sisters were back in the early ’50s), walking with a book balanced atop their heads, and getting out of cars without revealing their underwear to the photographers (not yet known as paparazzi) — would that today’s celebs boasted such a skill-set!

Swing High Swing Low

Gorgeous lifelike colour by Deluxe!

Joan gets sent to finishing school all over again in THE GIRL ON THE RED VELVET SWING, a true-crime story directed by Richard Fleischer. Fleischer did a stupendous job with (working backwards) 10 RILLINGTON PLACE (the Christie murders, very accurate), THE BOSTON STRANGLER (heavily fictionalised) and a very decent job on COMPULSION (Leopold & Loeb, quasi-accurate as far as it goes). This movie climaxes act 2 with a scandalous homicide, but it isn’t primarily a crime film, more of a woman’s picture (red drapes behind the credit sequence) and Joan is the woman whose picture it is.

Ray Milland is Stanford White, America’s greatest architect of the gilded age. Farley Granger is the spoiled and possibly psychotic Harry Thaw. Joan is Floradora Girl Evelyn Nesbitt, who throws herself at the married Milland (“She’s a stupid slut,” pronounced Fiona, and I believe there was a hint of disapproval in her tone) before allowing herself to be wooed by Granger.

Things the movie omits to tell us: White was carrying on with lots of other chorus girls too; he may have drugged their champagne in order to date-rape them; Thaw was a coke fiend; he had a fondness for beating women with a dog whip; Nesbitt became impregnated by John Barrymore; her abortion was procured at a finishing school run by the mother of Cecil B DeMille.

Fever Dream aborion nervous breakdown

On The Bitch

In the movie, Joan’s abortion is instead a nervous breakdown (I guess the logic is, “We need something shameful but not sexual”), presented in a series of lap dissolves as she tosses in her delirium: montage=mental illness. Producer and co-screenwriter Charles Brackett (working with Walter Reisch, previously his collaborator on NINOTCHKA) struggles to get any dramatic fire going. Joan is remarkably good-ish in this — she must have devolved a bit between GIRL and ESTHER. 20th Century Fox had planned to cast Marilyn Monroe, but she was on suspension. Ray Milland is always reliable, but can’t really be outstanding in the part as written. Granger has the flashiest role but he can’t quite make a show-stopper out of it, he’s not really that kind of actor. Brad Dourif had the role in RAGTIME, and he’s a much better idea.

At the film’s “climax”, Joan must sway a jury single-handedly, with a testimony so powerful that they are forced to acquit a man arrested for publicly shooting an old guy in the face, in the crowded theatre of Madison Square Garden, while shouting “He ruined my wife!” (In the real-life case, nobody could say for sure whether it was “wife” or “life”. A minor point — the guy was still dead.)

DIGRESSION: Now, I’ve seen Joan in the witness box FOR REAL, and I have to say, she wasn’t thatcompelling. This was when she attempted to follow her sister Jacqui into the world of best-selling bonkbuster novels, and was sued by her publisher for the return of her six-figure advance after she failed to provide them with sufficiently publishable dross (a sample:“‘Don’t call me your little cabbage,’ she said savagely. ‘I’m nobody’s cabbage.’”). Joan, her head inserted into wig styled like freshly whipped soufflé, made a poor witness, mainly because she seemed too profoundly THICK to understand when she was being asked a question, of that she was expected to answer. But in fairness to her, this may have been a deliberate strategy — her best chance of winning the case (she won) was in proving that the publishers got exactly what they deserved when they asked her to knock up a couple of novels. Skeptics may wonder whether Joan is a good enough actress to fool an entire courtroom, but I remind you: she was playing the part of a dumb actress. “Stand still and look stupid” may be equally good advice for the witness box.

DIGRESSION ON DIGRESSION: The best movie star courtroom scene played for real was that of Lana Turner, defending her daughter for knifing well-endowed gangster Johnny Stompanato to death. She gave a real Lana Turner performance, completely artificial from beginning to end and completely convincing to everybody concerned.

The Window

...and KICK!

Schwing!

END OF DIGRESSIONS: Fleischer’s direction only takes off during the scene when Millandfinally gets Collins on his swing. With dizzying, nauseating POV shots, Fleischer shows her ascending to the ceiling and attempting to kick holes in the skylight. We get a glimpse of the campy wallow in bad taste this film could have been if Fleischer had been allowed to report the true story and play to Joan’s strengths. The Fleischer of MANDINGO could have had a ball with that.

Halloween

The movie needs more SUBTLE FORESHADOWING, like the skulls, screen right.

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