My Mother Was a Saint!

Films: I Remember Mama
Format: DVD from NetFlix on laptop.

I’m actually surprised that I hadn’t seen I Remember Mama before today. This seems like exactly the sort of movie that would have been shown on the old WGN Family Classics show when I was a kid. That was a Sunday morning show that ran old family films like Going My Way, Mysterious Island and Boys Town. I Remember Mama absolutely fits into that. Honestly, it may have been too long for the show.

This is one of those “year or so in the life of a family” films where we’re going to see a series of events that happen to a particular family as they (switching into television announcer voice) struggle through the joys and tragedies of life in pre-World War I America. Our family in question is the Hansons, headed by father Lars (Philip Dorn), but really run by mama Martha (Irene Dunne). The Hansons have four children: son Nels (Steve Brown), youngest daughter Dagmar (June Hedin), middle daughter Christine (Peggy McIntyre), and oldest daughter and the storyteller of this film, Katrin (Barbara Bel Geddes). Also in the mix are Marta’s three sisters. These are the unpleasant aunts Jenny (Hope Landin) and Sigrid (Edith Evanson), and the timid but sweet aunt, Trina (Ellen Corby).

You Can Use the Penny for Therapy

Films: Penny Serenade
Format: Turner Classic Movies on rockin’ flatscreen.

So I should start by saying that yes, this should be one of Chip’s remaining four movies. I had planned for NetFlix to deliver one to me, but NetFlix (or the USPS) has not delivered. What this means is that the review of one of Chip’s movies will be a day or two late. Mea maxima culpa.

Instead, I decided to continue working on knocking out the giant backlog I have on the DVR. I decided to go for Penny Serenade in part because I’ve had it recorded for something like a year. The most noteworthy aspect of the film is that it’s one of the only two films for which Cary Grant earned an Oscar nomination. Truthfully, Grant deserved plenty more nominations in his career, and I was curious regarding this one. I’ve been told in the past that Grant never really got a nomination he deserved and deserved plenty of nominations he didn’t get. Having seen Penny Serenade, I understand precisely why he earned the nomination. We’ll get to that.

Gender Roles

Films: Woman of the Year
Format: DVD from Sycamore Public Library on laptop.

When you think of great screen couples from the golden age of Hollywood, Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn. The two had magnificent chemistry together both on and off screen, which made them a natural pairing. Their typical film was light romantic comedy and Woman of the Year is no different in that respect. In many respects, this explores the same territory as a lot of other Tracy/Hepburn films: the sexual politics of the day.

It also feels in many ways like the beginnings of what would become a modern sitcom situation. One of the conceits of many a sitcom, at least in the past, is putting a man in a relationship with a woman who is far too smart, accomplished, and good for him. This is close to the territory we’re treading here, although not entirely. What we’ll find as we dig into the story here is that she may well be too smart and accomplished for him, but he may be too good for her.

Hiding Out

Film: The Diary of Anne Frank
Format: DVD from NetFlix on rockin’ flatscreen.

I knew this was going to be rough. The Diary of Anne Frank is a three-hour movie, and I know where we’re getting to at the end. Essentially, this is an exercise in watching a story play out where you’re just waiting for the shoe to drop. You know it’s going to happen, and it’s probably not going to happen until the end, which means all of the close calls and nervous moments are filled with an odd tension, even the ones that are in the middle of the movie and therefore too early in the narrative to be that dangerous.

You probably already know the story, and if you don’t, shame on you. Briefly, during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands, the Frank family moves into the attic apartment over a business in Amsterdam. They stay there for two years with the Van Daan family and are eventually joined by a dentist named Albert Dussell (Ed Wynn). The eight people, all essentially fugitives from the German invaders because they are Jewish, are forced to be silent during the day so that they don’t tip off the people working below to their presence. Their only contact with the outside world is a radio and through the meetings with the factory head Kraler (Douglas Spencer) and his assistant Miep Gies (Dodie Heath).

Rule of Law

Film: Talk of the Town
Format: DVD from Sycamore Public Library on laptop.

Talk of the Town is a film that’s going to play with our expectations in the opening 10 minutes. This starts off like a film noir that will pit a dangerous criminal played by Cary Grant against a terribly vulnerable Jean Arthur. And while there’s drama aplenty here, it’s not long before a film that starts with arson, murder, and a prison break quickly becomes a dramatic romantic comedy with a love triangle. Believe me, I’m not complaining.

Here’s the set up: Fire! Burning buildings! Spinning headlines! A factory has burned down and it looks like arson. The foreman of the factory has been burned to a crisp with only an athletic medal he won for shotput left behind in the ashes. Factory owner Andrew Holmes (Charles Dingle) blames notorious organizer and rabble rouser Leopold Dilg (Cary Grant), who is promptly arrested. In probably the least-dramatic escape in film history from the most minimum security prison, Dilg overpowers his guard and escapes, ending up at the rental home of Nora Shelley (Jean Arthur), the woman he’s always had a crush on. His ankle hurt in his escape, Leopold has nowhere else to go. But Nora is prepping the house for a summer renter who arrives minutes after Leopold and a day early. The renter is Professor Michael Lightcap (Ronald Coleman), a law professor who is being considered for placement on the Supreme Court. Yes, that Supreme Court.

Three's a Crowd

Film: The More the Merrier
Format: DVD from NetFlix on laptop.

Screwball comedies/screwball romances are kind of hit-and-miss with me. There are some that I adore and some that I’m supposed to like that I really end up disliking. I approach them with a certain amount of caution as I did with The More the Merrier. I don’t even trust a cast implicitly. I didn’t think a ton of Bringing Up Baby, and it has one of the great casts of its era. But I do generally try to go into each film I watch expecting to like it. Preconceived notions have a way of invalidating a review.

Movies like The More the Merrier are why I try to stay positive, because this one is worth it. It’s appeal is almost entirely based on the presence of the great Charles Coburn, who won a Supporting Actor Oscar for this role. I can’t say he didn’t deserve it because he’s clearly the best thing in the movie. That’s not a put down. Coburn is funny all the way through and displays a genius for comic timing and some great physical comedy. It’s all the more impressive coming from an overweight man in his sixties.

Alice Adams

Format: DVD from Northern Illinois Founders Memorial Library on laptop.

I’ve been surprised many a time by many a film, and I always do my best to come at each film with the hope of actually enjoying it. I went into Alice Adams cold, knowing only that it had Katherine Hepburn and Fred MacMurray in it and that it was nominated for a few Oscars. Having now seen it, I wonder why.

I’m not going to be nice to this film, so if it’s one that you like, I’ll suggest that you look elsewhere. I’m not going to apologize for disliking this film. It’s filled with the most repellent characters I’ve seen in a long time. I can’t imagine wanting to actually spend time around 90% of the people in this film. This isn’t a case of them having a particular bad habit or quirk—these are people who are almost designed to be as unpleasant as possible, and since this is a film from 1935, we’re guaranteed that these unpleasant people will wind up with a happy ending.

One Man Alone

Film: Ride Lonesome; Shane
Format: DVD from NetFlix (Ride Lonesome) and personal collection (Shane) on Sue’s Mother’s Day present.

There is no genre of film more quintessentially American than the Western. Not even film noir is so American, and yes, I’m including spaghetti Westerns in this; they’re American, too, in their own way. The American myth is all about the one many alone who stands up against overwhelming odds and still triumphs. In a large part, the concept of the American Dream comes from this basic Western story. With a classic Western, you know that the white hats are going to win and the black hats are going to lose. Most importantly for that myth, there are many Westerns in which one man stands alone against those who wish to cause him harm.

Ride Lonesome is pretty good at squeezing all of those Western tropes into a single film. Like many Westerns, it’s incredibly straightforward. There’s not a lot of subtlety in the plot, which makes sense with the film’s almost disturbingly short running time. A man with the awesome Western name of Ben Brigade (Randolph Scott) captures a wanted outlaw named Billy John (James Best). There’s a ransom out on Billy, and Brigade plans to bring him to Santa Cruz to collect, and to make sure that Billy meets his appointment at the end of a hangman’s rope.

Raiding the Kids' Shelves

Film: Swing Time; The Jungle Book
Format: DVDs from personal collection on kick-ass portable DVD player (Swing Time) and itty-bitty bedroom television (The Jungle Book).

Today, looking for something a little different, I raided my kids’ DVD shelf and watched a couple of their movies. That might seem strange for the first film, but Gail has owned the complete Astaire/Rogers collection for about four years.

Once upon a time, movies were ridiculously innocent, and no genre of movie was more innocent than the musical. And while I don’t have any proof of it, I think that no brand of musical was more innocent in tone than those done by Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. This is not a complaint, but an observation. And it’s okay that that’s the case. These films are not about the plot but about the fact that Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers may have been the greatest dancing pair in history.

Swing Time follows the basic Astaire/Rogers formula. Boy meets girl, complications ensue, boy gets girl in the end. That really shouldn’t be a spoiler—there’s no real mystery that the pair who begin the film with her disliking him will end with the two madly in love with each other. John “Lucky” Garnett (Astaire) is a professional dancer as well as a fantastically lucky gambler. He’s set to marry a society girl named Margaret (Betty Furness), but in so doing, he’d need to abandon the troupe. So the guys in the troupe cause him to miss his own wedding. Naturally, he’s in trouble with the family, but placates them by saying that he was earning money on his own. Margaret’s father agrees that if his business (he doesn’t know that John is a gambler and that his business is essentially cards and roulette) raises $25,000, he’ll get to marry Margaret.

So Lucky sets off for the big city accompanied by “Pop” Cardetti (Victor Moore), a magician and card sharp. He almost immediately encounters Penny Carrol (Rogers). He’s smitten, and trades away his lucky quarter to her. When he tries to get it back, Pop steals it back, which causes her some trouble when she accuses Lucky of taking it. As it turns out, she is a dance instructor, and he goes to take a lesson from her to explain. Of course, since he’s a professional dancer, he does so well that the two of them are offered a tryout, which Lucky messes up.

And, naturally, the romance won’t be that easy. It seems that Penny is being romanced by a local bandleader named Ricardo Romero (Georges Metaxa). And Pop is madly in love with Penny’s friend Mabel (Helen Broderick). And into the middle of all of this, Margaret shows up and throws another wrench into the works. And of course it all comes out right in the end with everyone smiling regardless of who they end up with.

The dancing, of course, is top-notch, and couldn’t really be anything else. What is truly impressive is that the vast majority of the dance sequences are done in a single take with a single moving camera. And they are flawless. Astaire and Rogers perform exciting and difficult moves, leaping over things in unison, swinging each other around at the end of numbers, meaning that a mistake at the end would require performing the entire routine again.

What I didn’t expect was a full-blown routine in blackface. Not that big of a deal in the time the film was made, but it’s not something that really plays today. It’s an interesting thing to see in the sense that it’s sort of racially offensive on its face, but it doesn’t come across as attempting to be insensitive. It’s hard to call it respectful, but it does come across as if it is trying to be something close to respectful.

But, that’s a relatively short sequence compared to the length of the film. The plot is what it is—it’s nothing too exciting or original, but it also doesn’t matter at all, because the plot is absolutely secondary to just how damn good the dancing is. Additionally, Astaire is far too likable to really be believable as a gambler and even a part-time swindler. And let’s put this to rest here and now: there’s a saying that Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in heels. I call bullshit. Yes, she did wear heels, but she sure as hell didn’t do everything backwards and she also didn’t do all of the steps that Astaire did. When they dance, you watch Astaire.

The Jungle Book is evidently the last Disney film that Walt Disney himself had a part in creating before his death. As such, it has a unique place in film history. In a sense, it’s the last piece of truly classic Disney animation despite the fact that other films (obviously) followed it. It’s simply a fact that it was a good 20 years before Disney produced an animated film that really captured the public’s imagination.

The story is based on the Rudyard Kipling book of the same name, of course, even though it doesn’t really follow the odd narrative structure of the book and also avoids being as thoroughly dark as the original source material. We have Mowgli the Man-Cub (Bruce Reitherman, son of the director), who was abandoned in the jungle and ended up being raised by a family of wolves and lived under the tutelage of Bagheera (Sebastian Cabot), a kindly but stuffy black panther. Everything is fine until the jungle hears of the return of Shere Khan (George Sanders), a tiger. Shere Khan despises mankind, and Bagheera is concerned that if he discovers the existence of Mowgli, he will hunt him down and kill him.

So, Bagheera determines to take Mowgli to the human village in the jungle where he can not only be with others of his own kind, but can also be kept safe from Shere Khan. It seems that Shere Khan is afraid of only two things—guns and fire—and the village naturally has both. But Mowgli doesn’t want to go to the village; he wants to stay in the jungle, and he’ll do anything to stay despite its dangers. One of those dangers is the bumbling and perpetually hungry python Kaa (Sterling Holloway, best known as the classic voice of Winnie the Pooh). He also encounters a troupe of elephants led by Colonel Hathi (J. Pat O’Malley).

Things change when Mowgli encounters Baloo (Phil Harris), a bear who exists only for a life of ease, making his way calmly through the forest with a philosophy of scraping by on the bare necessities of his existence. He takes Mowgli under his wing to teach him how to become a bear like him. Mowgli is temporarily kidnapped by a group of lively orangutans led by King Louie (Louis Prima) who agrees to let Mowgli stay with him if Mowgli will teach him how to make fire. Mowgli is rescued by Bagheera and Baloo, and Bagheera is finally able to convince Baloo that Mowgli really does belong in the human village.

Of course, this means that Mowgli feels abandoned and lied to, and he runs off, which brings him back face-to-face with Kaa and Shere Khan, as well as a quartet of vultures who are actually friendly and resemble the Beatles (a fact that my 8-year-old daughter picked up on immediately). And so there’s a big confrontation with the tiger, assisted by a handy lightning strike on a nearby tree, as well as another rescue by Baloo and Bagheera. And of course Mowgli ends up near the human village and becomes entranced by an attractive young girl who entices him into the village using her feminine charms and wiles.

It’s cute. It’s fun and has the right amount of danger for kids. The first villain, Kaa, is sort of ridiculous and more funny than dangerous despite the fact that he almost eats Mowgli twice and despite the fact that Mowgli is saved first by Bagheera and second by blind luck. Shere Khan, on the other hand, is quite vicious and nasty. He’s also not in the film much, and I’d like his presence to be a lot larger in the film for him to really establish himself as a menace. As it turns out, he’s merely another thing that threatens Mowgli and not really that much more difficult or that much scarier than the monkeys because of his relatively small role.

It’s also evident that Disney reused a great deal of their animation in previous films in this one, and from this film in later films. I understand that, and I don’t really have a problem with it. Hell, I use templates all the time, and that’s for things that wouldn’t take me hours to recreate. It does, however, seem a bit lazy when sequences of animation are reused exactly in this film multiple times. Kaa’s exits, for instance, are identical down to the frame, and that’s a bit disappointing. Reuse from other films, no problem. Essentially give me the same footage a couple of times and not expect me to notice? Shame on you.

But for what it is, The Jungle Book is entertaining in that last gasp of classic Disney animation way. But for me, it will always be a lesser light when compared with the early classics as well as the brief resurgence of great Disney animation in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s.

Why to watch Swing Time: Because Fred Astaire is always worth watching.
Why not to watch: It’s frequently silly, just like all musicals from the 1930s.

Why to watch The Jungle Book: It’s classic Disney animation.
Why not to watch: Repeated animation.

Social Climbing

Film: The Social Network; A Place in the Sun
Format: DVD from Rockford Public Library on kick-ass portable DVD player.

Chances are good that if you’re reading this, you have a Facebook page. I have a Facebook page. So do my wife, my older daughter, and my mother. My younger daughter has a fan page on Facebook. If you’re active online, the chances are extremely high that part of your activity involves Facebook. The people who don’t have a Facebook page are those who’ve never bothered to sign up and those who have, for one reason or another, rebelled against it. Friendster and MySpace still exist, after all—and MySpace still has around 30 million users.

Anyway, The Social Network is the Facebook story, because when it comes to online social networking, it is the 800-lb. gorilla. MySpace may still have 30 million users, but Facebook has 800 million worldwide—so many that I’m surprised my version of Microsoft Word doesn’t recognize the name of the site automatically. The film takes place essentially as a flashback as two separate lawsuits have been brought against Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg). As each new topic comes up, we get flashbacks to what actually happened.

I’m resisting recounting the plot, not for any spoiler reasons or because it’s not worth recounting, but because this movie is surprisingly dense. I mean this in a positive way; the first hour of the film feels very much like two hours simply because of everything that it includes. There’s a lot going on here, and the first hour of the film recounts the story of the website’s initial genesis, creation, and the start of its expansion. A lot of characters come and go, and there is a tremendous amount of story told here. In the hands of a less confident and competent director, this would be at least a three-hour film.

And yet, it never becomes bogged down or overwhelmed by its plot. Despite the vast number of characters here, the story is also very easy to follow. Essentially, Zuckerberg is a computer programming genius, but also (at least according to this film) has jealousy issues, a desperate need to be the center of attention, and the social equivalent of Tourette’s syndrome. The film opens with his break-up with his girlfriend, Erica Albright (Rooney Mara), who he destroys on his blog. Throughout the film, when he feels he’s being snubbed or not taken seriously, he utters incredibly offensive, rude, and otherwise abusive things to the source of his personal shame, particularly to his best friend and original business partner, Eduardo Saverin (Andrew Garfield).

And really, that’s sort of the path the entire movie takes. Zuckerberg can’t help but irritate, annoy, bother, or otherwise piss off everyone he knows in his quest to create Facebook, and thus invent himself in some way. Eduardo and Erica are only two of the casualties. He also draws a lot of attention from twin rowing Olympians Tyler and Cameron Winklevoss (Armie Hammer is credit with both roles, and Josh Pence is additionally credited with Tyler) and their associate Divya Narendra (Max Minghella). He also has a few choice encounters with Napster founder Sean Parker (Justin Timberlake).

This is one of those strange films in which almost everyone is, or at least acts, reprehensibly. While the Winklevoss twins and Narendra are certainly not blameless, in many ways Zuckerberg and Parker come off as the film’s biggest villains. Only Eduardo Saverin really ends up being shown in anything like a positive light. While his actions at one point jeopardized the entire venture, his actions are also completely understandable in light of everything that happens during the course of the film.

The Social Network got a lot of hype last year, and a great number of people were disappointed when the film didn’t win Best Picture at the Oscars. I can see that. I am perhaps showing my age when I say that I didn’t like this film more than I liked The King’s Speech, but I do understand why so many people enjoyed it. In many ways, Mark Zuckerberg is the most relevant famous person in a lot of lives. He is very much like the Bill Gates of the generation after mine, and thus the film about him is sure to resonate with many.

What’s interesting to me, though, is that it reinforces something I’ve long suspected is true. People who end up in positions like Mark Zuckerberg get there for a variety of reasons. One, plainly, is an obvious and specific genius. Facebook, at this point, exists in the way it does and with the popularity it does simply because it does. If you want a social presence online, it’s the only real option, especially after what looks like the spectacular failure of Google+. But a great deal of this film happens because Zuckerberg and Parker especially act in absolutely the most cutthroat manner possible. These are not nice men working for a better world, but men working for their own end, and to hell with everyone else, including friends. They sacrifice everything simply to be on top, and stop at nothing to proclaim their own victory immediately to those they have trampled to get there.

Is this accurate? I have no idea. It’s what’s here in the film, but I have no idea whether or not this film reflects the reality of what happened. However, there’s a lot of evidence to suggest that the Erica Albright character doesn’t exist in reality—Zuckerberg has had the same girlfriend since before Facebook was created. So…one wonders.

A Place in the Sun tells a more grisly, brutal version of the basic social climbing story. George Eastman (Montgomery Clift) is the nephew of a man named Charles Eastman (Herbert Heyes). The uncle hires the nephew to work in his factory out of some combination of familial respect and kindness. Since the uncle is extremely wealthy and the nephew is extremely poor, it’s kind of a charity case. But George proves himself pretty capable.

Sadly, George also proves himself unable to abide by the single important rule of the factory—don’t date any of the other workers. He begins seeing Alice Tripp (Shelley Winters) who works in the same part of the factory he does, almost out of convenience. Alice is naïve and a bit in awe of George’s last name, but ultimately begins to understand that he’s from the wrong side of the family and isn’t really starting at the bottom as she believes.

But, George does begin to rise in the company, and as he does, he attracts the attention of Angela Vickers (Elizabeth Taylor), a society girl with more time and money than anything else. The two quickly fall for each other, this time George being the one who is dazzled by the promise of money and romance. Sadly for him, Alice Tripp has some bad news; she’s pregnant and demands that he marry her, despite the fact that both of them will lose their jobs because of it.

And so George begins to think of what he can do. He has no way out. He wants nothing more than to be with Angela, but Alice has him trapped with her pregnancy, and she is insistent that he marry her no matter what. And so he starts to think of what to do, and he remembers that poor naïve Alice can’t swim and that the Eastmans have a house on a lake nearby, and all of his plans start to fall together, and those plans involve Alice only up to the point where he pushes her out of a boat and she drowns.

It’s an interesting film because it can easily be interpreted in a variety of ways. On the one hand, this is pure bourgeoisie propaganda—the people with money aren’t to blame in any of this. They try to bring the poor boy into the fold and what happens? His greed and lust become the seeds of his downfall. In truth, it is Angela who is the most sympathetic character here, and the one closest to being considered a true innocent. Alice is a nag and a scold and George is just plain vicious and scheming. But it’s innocent (and fabulously wealthy) Angela who ends up with the broken heart, thanks to the evil man from the lower social order.

On the other hand, the left-leaning among us can interpret it as a fable about the ills of wealth and power. George was happy where he was, and was plenty happy with Alice until Angela showed up and tempted him higher. George’s betrayal of Alice doesn’t come from inherent evil, but the evil he comes to in trying to adapt to the unfair advantages of those in significantly higher economic bracket. George loses his soul because losing one’s soul is the only way to truly reach that sort of elite economic position—and to get there, George must betray everything he has ever believed in.

Which interpretation is correct? I don’t know. It’s another film in which I dislike almost every character on the screen for the entire film. And yet, the story is quite compelling, well acted, and gutsy for the time. After all, Alice is pregnant out of wedlock, it’s 1951, and the Hays Code is very much still in effect. For the time, this film walks a razor’s edge of what it can even talk about openly—Alice’s confession of pregnancy had to raise more than a couple of eyebrows.

Still, this is not an easy film to recommend. It’s a good story and a good film, but it’s also rather unpleasant, and leaves a bit of an oily feeling after watching.

Why to watch The Social Network: It’s a story that defines an entire generation.
Why not to watch: Almost everyone in this film is a walking sphincter.

Why to watch A Place in the Sun: A story that feels both Hollywood and based in gritty reality.
Why not to watch: No one to really root for.

The White Man's Burden

Film: Gunga Din
Format: DVD from Rockford Public Library on kick-ass portable DVD player.

There’s a style of action film that has died out, and been dead and gone for some time. This is the sort of wild action film in which our hero(es) wink and nod at danger, ride straight into the jaws of overwhelming odds and emerge with nary a scratch because, well, they’re the heroes. The classic Western falls along this line, and it’s the sort of thing the Indiana Jones films played with, although Jones always took a hell of a beating (and Jones will come up in a few paragraphs). These “boy’s own” adventure films glorify this type of two-fisted hero, ready and willing to get into a good scrap and avoiding all of the mushy romance stuff.

And so we have Gunga Din (pronounced GUN-ga DEEN) from 1939, which might well be the most adventure-y adventure film ever made. Based somewhat on the poem of the same name by Rudyard Kipling, the film (and the poem) walks an uneasy line between racism and its opposite. Gunga Din (Sam Jaffe) wants nothing more than to be a soldier like the three men he admires. But, he is nothing but a water bearer, and a very low man on the military totem pole. The end of the film serves in many ways not as his redemption, but as a sort of upbraiding to those who would consider him a lesser man.

Ah, damn. I get ahead of myself so often.

Despite playing the title role, Jaffe isn’t listed anywhere near the top of the credits. Instead, these places are held by the three men for whom Gunga Din totes water, the trio of two-fisted sergeants: Cutter (Cary Grant), MacChesney (Victor McLaglen) and Ballantine (Douglas Fairbanks Jr.). These three are inseparable, and our initial meeting with them is in a dust up over something that will become a bit of a theme. Cutter is treasure-mad and is sold a bum treasure map. We also soon discover that the three are first-rate soldiers despite their penchant for trouble. Sent to inspect and repair telegraph lines, the three are set upon by Indian natives who prove to be a sort of outlier for a new Thugee sect.

A complication arises in the group when Ballantine announces that his term of service with Her Majesty’s Army has come up and he plans on drumming out of the service and into a marriage and a life as a tea merchant. Cutter and MacChesney quite obviously don’t wish him well and scheme to keep him in the military instead of the cushy civilian life. But all of this is secondary when Cutter hears of a nearby temple actually made of gold. Din leads him to it, only for them to discover that this temple is in fact the central hub of the Thugees. Cutter allows himself to be captured and sends Din back for the others, leading to the climactic scene between the trio and Din, the marching Scottish Lancers, and the Thugee cult headed by their evil guru (Eduardo Ciannelli).

This film is done in the classic Hollywood adventure style. It’s evident from the very beginning that nothing too terrible, or at least nothing fatal is going to happen to our three main characters. They’re too likeable, too willing to step gladly into danger, and too sold on service to Her Majesty for any wound to be much more than something that requires laying about without a shirt. The reaction of Cutter and MacChesney to Ballantine’s proposed nuptials is less about his abandoning them for civilian life and much more about Ballantine subjecting himself to all of that mushy girl stuff. This is not a film made with the female viewer in mind. Instead, it’s a sort of non-serialized version of a cliffhanger serial made for the Saturday afternoon crowd of rowdy pre-teen boys who just sat through a newsreel and a couple of Popeye cartoons. Our heroes commonly handle their problems by punching them in the jaw, and most of the problems can be handled with a single punch for each. There’s no situation so dire that the three men can’t take a minute to poke fun at each other, pull pranks, or argue about what they’ll do when they get out of yet another impossible scrape. Evidently, they’re pretty confident that they won’t die, too.

I mentioned Indiana Jones at the beginning of this, and there’s a reason for it. A great deal of what appears in this film also appears in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. In both films, we see a renewed and reborn sect of Thugee attempting to take over India in the name of Kali. In both, we have a mad guru wildly killing all who oppose him in terrible rituals, and in both, that guru is bald and speaks in flawless English. There’s a vibe here that feels like the second Indiana Jones film. I realize Gunga Din came first by multiple decades, but there’s no getting past the fact that the majority of film viewers these days are more familiar with Henry Jones and Short Round than with our trio of sergeants and the Indian water bearer.

And so the racism needs to be addressed as well—the racism not of the characters but of the film. Ballantine interacts little with Din. Cutter likes the man and tends to praise him. MacChesney tends to deride the little water carrier. This is part and parcel of the characters, though—three different relationships with the title character. The film itself, though, was made in a time when anyone who wasn’t white was either a lesser man or a man who aspired to whiteness. Din’s only wish is to be a British soldier; he has no real aspirations beyond imitating the three men he follows around.

This is most evident in the scene in which Cutter and Din find the Thugee cult. While Din’s eyes go wide at the sight of the terrible ceremony taking place before him, Cutter’s jaw becomes set and he fills with resolve. He is the one who allows himself to be captured while Din runs away—yes, he runs under orders, but run he does. That the film manages to redeem itself (and not Din because he truly needs no redemption) is actually laudable. But the evidence of that wanna-be-white-guy syndrome certainly creeps in.

Is it good? Yeah, it is. Films like this don’t get made anymore, but they used to be Hollywood stock in trade. An entire generation grew up on films like this and a generation of little boys learned (perhaps the wrong way) what being a man was all about from watching guys like Douglas Fairbanks Jr. and Cary Grant punch people in the jaw. Sometimes that’s enough.

Why to watch Gunga Din: Rollicking adventure-y goodness.
Why not to watch: For the most part, danger is met not with serious action, but a wink and a nod.

Big Land, Little Brains

Film: Giant
Format: DVD from Rockford Public Library on laptop.

Looking at American movies, it would be easy to assume that the basic American assumption is not with violence or sex, but money. Giant is a story of money, but also a story of love, oil, cattle, and racism in Texas in the years between the World Wars and after the second one. It starts simply enough. Jordan “Bick” Benedict, Jr. (Rock Hudson) travels from his massive ranch (595,000 acres), Reata, in Texas to a horse farm in Maryland to buy a stud horse named War Winds.

He does manage to purchase the horse, but returns to Texas with more than he bargained for. He comes back with a wife—Leslie (Elizabeth Taylor). Leslie is a headstrong young woman, and also a Yankee, which makes her something of a rarity in Texas not too far from its rough and tumble past. Leslie immediately butts heads with Bick’s sister Luz (Mercedes McCaimbridge). Luz is not a big fan of Bick’s new wife, but it doesn’t really matter much, or at least for too long. Attempting to prove that she is every bit as tough as Bick’s wife, Luz attempts to ride War Winds, is bucked off, hits her head on a mesquite stump, and dies.

We’re also introduced early on to a young ranch hand who works on the Reata. This is Jett Rink (James Dean). Bick’s not a big fan of Jett, who’s ready to quit the ranch after Luz dies. However, Luz remembers him in her will, giving him the rights to a small, relatively worthless piece of land that’s a part of Reata. Bick, wanting to keep all of his land in one piece, offers instead to give Jett double the price of the land.

Jett, however, enjoys the idea of tweaking Bick Benedict and opts for the land instead. Things don’t go so well for Jett for a few years. The Benedicts have twins (Jordan the third, called Jordy) and Judy, as well as another daughter named Luz. Right away, the kids are not what Bick wants them to be—Jordy, it turns out, is not a big fan of horses.

Jett, though, is a big fan of two things: money and Leslie Benedict. He gets the first one when the little oil well he’s built on his “worthless” scrap of land turns up a gusher. More oil wells follow, and suddenly, Jett Rink is the man of the hour, buying up ranches in the area to build more wells and pump up more and more money.

We flash forward a few years until the kids are of college age. Jordy (Dennis Hopper) shocks his father by saying he won’t run the ranch. Instead, he wants to be a doctor. Judy (Fran Bennett) elopes with a local boy, and they don’t want the ranch either, which causes Bick to wonder what he’s been keeping it together for.

Leslie doesn’t wonder about that, but she does wonder about the treatment of the Mexican workers and residents of the area. The Mexicans, openly called “wetbacks” throughout the film up until the very end, live in appalling conditions. Leslie does what she can to help them, much to Bick’s chagrin. Even more to his chagrin, his doctor son marries a Mexican woman named Juana (Elsa Cardenas) and names their very Mexican-looking son Jordan Benedict IV.

Things come to a head when the now filthy-rich, alcoholic Jett Rink opens a new massive hotel and airport complex. Twenty-five years of bad blood, racism, and oil and cattle money finally come to a head.

Giant, for all of its social conscience, still seems to fall flat in the modern world. Bick Benedict’s great awakening doesn’t seem all that great when he calls his own grandson a “wetback.” This film seems very much like Gone With the Wind with oil and Mexicans instead of the Civil War, slaves, and cotton. While the film appears very much to deplore racism against our neighbors to the south, it makes no comment about the fact that in Maryland, all of the rich people are white and all of the servants are black. It could very well draw a parallel here, but doesn’t.

There are good performances all around, but something just seems to fall flat for me here. James Dean is relatively convincing as a middle-aged Jett Rink, but the iconic look—the cowboy hat, jeans, and boots—vanish earlier in the film than I thought they would and he ends up looking a little bit like the unnatural son of Johnny Depp and Steve Buscemi.

I guess I’m ultimately a little disturbed by a film in which the ultimate decisions of right and wrong, good and bad, are decided with an endless series of fistfights.

Why to watch Giant: It’s James Dean’s last movie!
Why not to watch: Don’t mess with Texas—you might get some on ya.