Archive for Sara Montiel

The Good The Burt and the Gary

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on April 18, 2018 by dcairns

So, it was a Robert Aldrich double feature, in fact. I wanted to re-see VERA CRUZ, having always enjoyed it and having recently acquired a second-hand copy on DVD. Fiona’s not big on westerns, generally needs them to have a female element. This is disorienting to me since my mum loves westerns, so I grew up thinking, Yeah, westerns, women’s pictures, right. Not right, apparently!

My mum’s view of it does make sense. Westerns are full of things women often like to see. Scenery, animals, men, activity, travel, justice. By getting the female characters well out of the way on the sidelines, it makes it easier to ogle John Wayne or Richard Widmark (her favourite). But this logic doesn’t seem to hold up for a lot of female viewers.

So, the presence of Denise Darcel was my means of persuading Fiona to try this (plus, she was well up for an Aldrich double). Darcel (“Why was she always in westerns?” asked Fiona, thinking of WESTWARD THE WOMEN, which she loved) was a French actor burlesque dancer and starlet with a husky frame and stereotypically Gallic delivery. Here she plays a pure noir character, a scheming betrayer. She doesn’t win in the end, but she gets away with it.

Almost as gratifying from the female interest perspective was the presence of Sara Montiel, previously enjoyted in SERENADE. Mainly she brings astonishing beauty and glamour to a role that sees her doing a lot of double-crossing too, but on the side of good.

But of course the men do most of the hard riding. Great support work from Cesar Romero, George MacReady (the Emperor Maximilian!), early supporting villainy from Jack Elam, Ernest Borgnine, Charles Bronson (still going by Buchinsky at this point). Gary Cooper in the lead, hiring himself out to the wrong side, an early indication of the moral complexity/confusion engulfing the western hero, and Burt Lancaster turning a bad guy role into a star turn. You could imagine an earlier film where his grinning brute turns round and shows a heart of gold — he could do a Captain Renault. But not here. His heart is merely set on gold. This is a proto-Leone hero. When the villain is allowed to get more charismatic and interesting than the villain, a big reversal may be imminent.

Sergio Leone (no women’s director, he) would act as AD for Aldrich on SODOM AND GOMORRAH, and so he must have seen this. Besides, I think he saw every western there was to see. The quest for concealed gold, though far from unique to this film, seems to inform THE GOOD THE BAD AND THE UGLY. Burt starts to say “Why you dirty son of a b–” and is cut short by a blast of music (diegetic in this case), as Eli Wallach would be at the end of that film. The Mexican setting suggests DUCK, YOU SUCKER, as does the presence of a stiff-necked Prussian officer.

There’s also a “shoot when the music stops” scene directly informing the musical watch duels of FOR A FEW DOLLARS MORE…

Best of all is the bit I remembered most clearly — Burt and Gary and Cesar and almost everyone else find themselves outgunned by juaristas, who have crept up silently in Red Indian manner and in vast numbers, surrounding them. As the camera circles Burt, we see them rising slowly from every rooftop, their appearance timed precisely to sync with the camera movement itself.

We get a good chunk of the shot at the start of the trailer.

Leone picks this shot up and carries it forward in time to ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST, but here, as the camera orbits Frank Wolff, the movement reveals — nothing. Only the eerily silent prairie, a space from which enemies WILL come, but are as yet invisible. The shot has been transformed from a very flamboyant but typically American conception — a movement displaying the actions of characters — to a European (specifically Italian) one — exploring space, both geographical and psychological, motivated by something purely internal…

Shot starts at 5.39 in this clip.

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Super Mario

Posted in FILM, literature, MUSIC with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 14, 2010 by dcairns

Familiar to me mainly by reputation and from his appearance as a clay character in Peter Jackson’s HEAVENLY CREATURES, Mario Lanza made a late attempt at a comeback for Anthony Mann with SERENADE, loosely based on a novel by James M Cain. It’s quite an odd piece of work.

The early, rags-to-riches stuff lacks pep, and Lanza at this stage makes an unconvincing boyish youth. He plays an aspiring opera singer taken under the wing of society vampire Joan Fontaine (always satisfying in wicked mode). We meet her as she’s dumping a prizefighter, and she duly walks out on poor Mario as he makes his debut in Otello — rather than inspiring him to greater heights of conviction in the role, her absence causes him to wobble out of the theatre altogether, mid-performance. Finding her apartment empty, Mario learns she’s absconded with an up-and-coming sculptor, and claws her face off

(About two minutes in.)

When it comes to playing fraught human wreckage, Mario is unexpectedly adept, and we can forget his age now as he convincingly gives us a singer who has lost his voice, his self-belief and his reason to live. Resuscitated down Mexico way by the love of beautiful Sarita Montiel, he attempts to climb back to the top, but Fontaine is waiting for him.

The small crowd of screenwriters employed on this seem to have pulled off miracles of bowdlerisation, transforming Fontaine’s character from a gay man to a predatory society dame, and Montiel’s from a prostitute to a matador’s daughter. Montiel’s characterisation of Fontaine as “degenerate” seems like a hangover from the source book.

Homosexuality, ejected from the servant’s entrance, crashes through every window and floods down the chimney. Vincent Price plays Fontaine’s campy pal with sneering relish (but he’s actually kind of nice, underneath it all), and he gets absolutely all the good lines. The heroine who straightens Mario out (a touch inconclusively, as in the book) likes to drag up in her dead dad’s toreador duds, and assumes bullfighter stance to threaten her rival with a sword at a swank New York cocktail party (I never seem to get invited to parties like that). The silliness is augmented by other melodramatic contrivances — it seemed capricious of God to send a thunderbolt to make Mario and Sara stay together, only to send a bus to knock her down a few days later…

Cigar-smoking Sara Montiel likes to claim she was the love of Lanza’s life, though she was married to Mann… Rather than firming up A.M.’s rep for heterosexuality, this union may undermine it: “If he were Spanish, marrying Sara Montiel would be like marrying Judy Garland,” observes David Wingrove, Shadowplay informant.

Mann seems much more excited by the psychological mayhem and tense confrontations of the second half, although his enthusiasm comes and goes. Lanza fans will appreciate the large quantity of loud singing laid on for our enjoyment, and I appreciated it too whenever it synched with a valid plot motivation, which admittedly was about 75% of the time. With its two-part structure, use of San Francisco as a major location, broken-down hero, and hispanic influence, the movie seems at times like a faint pre-echo of VERTIGO, a film still waiting to be born at this point.