Archive for Michael Caine

Intelligence

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , on December 22, 2019 by dcairns

Michael Caine, it would seem, spent the eighties trolling Kim Philby. THE FOURTH PROTOCOL opens with Philby being shot in the head (shortly before he died for real). But in THE JIGSAW MAN, Caine plays “Philip Kimberley,” a former head of British Intelligence who defected to the USSR — but now, by crikey, he’s back!

Confusingly, characters keep talking about Burgess, MacLean, and the actual Kim Philby, as if this Phyllis Crumbly wasn’t a fictional analogue. True, in CITIZEN KANE there is a fleeting reference to Hearst, of which I suppose somebody would complain “It took me right out of the film!”, but Charles Foster Kane was called Charles Foster Kane, not Hilford Random Wurst.

This is a true late film — Terence Young (DR. NO) only made one more, screenwriter Jo Eisinger (THE SLEEPING CITY) made none. Susan George’s movie career was prematurely winding down and the promising new field of horse homeopathy was opening up for her. Laurence Olivier managed three more features, but is looking his age, and though Charles Gray would be with us for quite a while, he didn’t make many more movies either. Freddie Francis shot it.

So it’s a shame it’s such a terrible film. I mean, wow.

Frill Quimby gets plastic surgery that turns him into Michael Caine, who returns to Blighty in search of some boring documents. Supposedly working for the Russkis, Crim Filbski de-defects and goes rogue, hunted by both sides.

This man is about to become Michael Caine.

The opening scene, in which Clem Fably isn’t Michael Caine yet, but has Michael Caine’s completely distinctive voice, is an immediate lost opportunity — instead of teasing us with the (quite good) dub-job, the movie has Film Kimby talking rapidly in two-shot from the off, as if we’re not even supposed to notice something is up.

Olivier swears a lot through a scraggly beard that makes him look more like the late Don Henderson — not as dapper as we’d like — and seems to be having trouble with his breathing, and hence with his terrible lines. I think someone thought that having Sir Larry say “Arse” was going to be great value for money. There’s fantastic amounts of exposition, none of which we care about or need. Susan George tells Caine about how she once wrote to him telling him she was learning Russian, and he says yes, he knows, he got the letter. Marvelous.

Caine is required to do only things he’s not good at: fighting, running, accents. His Russian accent, which is meant to be fake but convincing, keeps veering into Mexican. When Phlegm Killerbee apologises to Susan George for killing her publican friend with one mighty chop, he says, “I’m sorry about your friend. War is bad.” “It doesn’t matter,” she assures him. It would have been good if she’d amplified the point: “I never liked my publican friend anyway.”

The Criminologist plays bald!

The climax is a shoot-out in the baboon enclosure of Royal Windsor Safari Park. The monkeys all have hidden their typewriters.

2001 tribute?

THE JIGSAW MAN stars Harry Palmer; Maxim De Winter; Dirty Mary Coombs; Jesus of Nazareth; Joseph Goebbels; Ernst Stavros Blofeld; and Ernst Stavros Blofeld again.

Or do I mean Parry Hammer; Waxim De Minter; Mirty Cary Dooms; Nesus of Jazzareth; Goseph Joebbels; Stan Blovros Airfield; and Blornst Avros Sternfeld?

Dirty Nuke

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 14, 2019 by dcairns

 

Don’t bother with THE FOURTH PROTOCOL, is my best advice. They do shoot Kim Philby in the head in scene one, a bold start, but it’s downhill from there.

It comes on very cinematic, courtesy of Scotsman John MacKenzie at the tiller, and everyone’s in it, so for a while it seems like it could be OK.

But then it turns out to be a mash-up of DAY OF THE JACKAL and OCTOPUSSY. It somehow manages to have the same plot as both, even though they have different plots.

Pierce Brosnan is a handsome, ruthless Russian spy working for a rogue spymaster. He’s the Jackal, in other words, and Michael Caine is on his tail, but we get to see Caine run in this and we wonder if he’s ever likely to catch up. I think the point at which I lost hope for the film was when I realised the Inevitable Scene was going to be a punch-up between these two on a housing estate.

Brosnan moving about being slinky and ruthless is just Edward Fox V.02, but his specific mission is to blow up an American airbase on British soil, making it look like an accident. This will cause CND to kick the Americans out, thus weakening NATO. The film keeps cutting to CND protestors like they’re a THREAT, like they’re the elephants in ELEPHANT WALK (although, admittedly, I always took the pachyderms’ part against the settlers). There is, for balance, a scene where Caine beats up some skinheads on the underground because they’re hassling a weeping black girl with a CND badge for being a “commie” — the film’s one endearingly ludicrous moment. I was hoping for more, since George Axelrod is a credited writer, and he did give us, in a fit of apparent late-career confusion, THE HOLCROFT COVENANT, which plays like an accidental comedy but is written by a great comedy writer, so what is going on?

Caine has a brilliant scene reading Russian names off a computer with his small son — the only human moment in the movie.

THE FOURTH PROTOCOL stars Harry Palmer; Remington Steele; Tector Crites; Zhora (naked and dead again); Major Breen; Emeric Belasco; Rick Pym; Francis Urquhart (I); The Duke; Mon Mothma; Jessica Rabbit; Frank Cotton; Max Headroom; Neville Chamberlain; Elphias Doge; and the voice of Professor Ping.

 

The Home Film Festival

Posted in Dance, Fashion, FILM, MUSIC, Television with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 4, 2018 by dcairns

It was rainy last Sunday so I suggested we have our own film festival at home. Try it!

An eclectic program, decided at random. First I watched THE ORE RAIDERS, and blogged about it, then I popped on THE BLACK WINDMILL (1974), which always looked like awful tommyrot when on TV, but it’s Don Siegel therefore worth a try.Reader, THE BLACK WINDMILL is indeed awful tommyrot, but with impressive credits. TV pan-and-scan showings, which I recall seeing bits of, ruined it utterly — the pleasure is all in Siegel’s framing and blocking. Ousama Rawi, the former Mr. Rita Tushingham, shot it, beautifully — there’s some particularly nice anamorphic city lights. Antony Gibbs, of PETULIA and PERFORMANCE, cut it, less successfully than one might have hoped, though the neatest bit is a long take from a locked-off position as bad guys frame the hero with a nudie photo staged in his own bedroom. Roy Budd, of GET CARTER, provides a GET CARTER type score, with added tabla drums. Veteran costume designer Anthony Mendleson makes his leading man look ridiculous. I think there’s a good argument for leading men dressing conservatively, as Cary Grant suggested. They don’t date, and anyway, why would a spy dress like THIS?I suppose, in a crisis, he could always turn sideways and hide behind his necktie.

A distinguished cast includes cast includes Harry Palmer, Dr. Crippen, Empress Alexandra, Elizabeth Bathory, Sheik Abu Tahir and Maya the shapeshifter from Space 1999.

   

Fiona only joined that one midway, then insisted on some Bette Davis so we ran JEZEBEL, which we hadn’t seen in ages. I’ve often felt that the Germans in Hollywood had more racial sensitivity than native-born filmmakers, but although the black characters here all get bits of characterisation, and Eddie Anderson underplays for once, the movie never misses a chance at a cheap joke. When Henry Fonda says he feels haunted, wrinkled retainer Lew Paton stammers, “H-haunted?” in terror of spooks.

Still, the soapy story compels, and Bette is playing a perverse, willful, stroppy filly much like herself. She adored Wyler’s disciplinarian approach, and dialled down her excesses. When she reacts to the news that Fonda has married, her face registers a dozen emotions and calculations at lightning speed, subtly enough that you can believe smiling Margaret Lindsay doesn’t notice them, and visibly enough that you can see Fonda does.

Also great work from Richard Cromwell and, shockingly, George Brent, whose sleepy approach to acting here becomes electrifying when he’s given something of real interest to play. His character is supposed to be a dynamic old-school swashbuckler, and by playing it with indifference he actually adds a convincing edge to it. This guy is so dangerous because he doesn’t advertise it.

The cunning use of POV shots I noted in THE ORE RAIDERS is present here, as Bette, embracing Fonda, makes particular note of the stick he’s left by the door. All her behaviour in the ensuing scene is an attempt to provoke him into using it on her, which he refrains from, much to her disappointment. Did I mention Bette’s character is a touch perverse?

Co-writer John Huston was drafted in to direct a duel scene, and in a film full of smart grace notes, delivers one of the neatest, as the duellists take ten paces, clear out of frame and two puffs of smoke issue in from the edges of the screen, rendering the battle an abstraction, its outcome a mystery.

We followed this with another, contrasting Bette movie, LO SCOPONE SCIENTIFICO (1972), which I’ve tackled at greater length elsewhere. Let’s just say that, cast as a kind of monster-goddess, Bette again is playing a character remarkably like herself: indefatigable.

Short subject: PIE, PIE, BLACKBIRD with Nina Mae McKinney and the Nicholas Brothers when they were small. She does an adorable rasping trumpet honk thing with her voice, an orchestra plays inside a giant pie, and the Bros. dance so hard, everybody turns into a skeleton. Will, if anybody was going to cause that to happen, it would be them.

It’s very funny to me that the props man couldn’t find a child skeleton — there was, it would seem, little call for such items — so he’s removed the shin-bones of an adult to make it dance shorter. Incredible to think that young Harold performed all those moves without knees.

Then MIRAGE, based on regular Shadowplayer Daniel’s recent recommendation. Sixties Edward Dmytryk, when he’s supposed to be washed up, but there’s some interesting stuff afoot, not all of it pulling in the same direction, but still. Stars Atticus Finch, Felix Unger Oscar Madison, Anne Frank’s sister Margot, Willie Loman’s son Biff, Gaetano Proclo and Joe Patroni. Which is to say, Walter Matthau and George Kennedy are reunited after CHARADE, which was also scripted by Peter Stone, and Matthau and Jack Weston are together, prefiguring A NEW LEAF.

Stone’s script is witty as usual, perhaps too witty — there’s a good sense of Kafkaesque nightmare going on in the crazy amnesia/conspiracy plot, but you have Gregory Peck being all Gregory Peckory, stiff and bashful, and then making quips, and the sense of waking nightmare rather deserts one.

BUT —

Dmytryk, a former editor, has discovered direct cutting — he’s seen MARIENBAD, in fact — or maybe the previous year’s THE PAWNBROKER. As Peck thinks back on baffling recent events, or retrieves fragments of memory from his earlier, lost-time spell, we cut in hard to snippets of dialogue from earlier or brief flashes of action. Best of all is a subway scene where the sound of the train continues unabated over glimpses of Walter Abel falling out of a skyscraper. Then he cuts to a watermelon hitting the ground and bursting, something that’s only been mentioned earlier. It’s a non-diegetic watermelon, perhaps the first of its race.

It’s dazzling and disturbing and would still look pretty nifty in a modern film. What makes it sellable to the great public of 1964 is that the odd technique is tied directly to the plot gimmick. Anyway, it’s very nice indeed, and makes you realise how conservative most cutting still is. Given Dmytryk’s late-career wallowing in turgid airport novel stuff, I wish he’d enlivened his work with this kind of monkey business a lot more. For a guy who’d sold out, who had to shore up his sense of self-worth with spurious justifications, accomplishing a nice piece of work like this must have been some kind of relief.