Showing posts with label Claude Rains. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Claude Rains. Show all posts

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Bette Davis' Finest Performance?



"Oh, Jerry, don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars."

Charlotte (Bette Davis)
Ranked #46 on the American Film Institute's list of the Top 100 movie quotes

Of all her film roles, Bette Davis' performance in a movie that premiered 75 years ago today, "Now, Voyager," has to rank among her best.

And even after 75 years, it is a story that surely resonates for some, perhaps many, living today. I think it will continue to be relevant after we're gone — and that will keep Davis' performance relevant as well.

Under the oppressive thumb of a domineering mother (Gladys Cooper), Davis played a frumpy spinster who suffered from neuroses; she was unattractive and overweight, but with the assistance of her doctor (played by Claude Rains), Davis' character really bloomed, becoming an independent and refined woman.

At her sister–in–law's urging, Davis went on a cruise before returning to her mother's home. While on this cruise she met a married man (Paul Henreid) who apparently would have divorced his manipulative wife if not for his devotion to his young daughter.

Fate intervened when the two found themselves stranded on a mountain together for five days following a car crash. They discovered that they were falling in love but decided it would be best if they didn't see each other again.

Davis returned to her home where her family was amazed at her transformation. Her mother was determined to get Davis back under her thumb and tried to resume her abusive treatment of her daugher; Davis was just as determined not to be subjugated again, and her experience with Henreid gave her the courage to pursue a life of independence. In fact she was just about to marry another man when a chance meeting with Henreid caused her to break it off.

Then meeting Henreid's daughter changed her plans. The young girl reminded Davis's character of herself. Neither had been wanted by their mothers, and neither enjoyed the love of their mothers.

That tends to be a toxic combination for most people in that position. To counter the effects Davis took the young girl under her wing.

Davis was permitted to remain in the young girl's life — with the understanding that her relationship with Henreid would remain platonic.

Then, at the end, came Davis' famous line that can be seen at the top of this post. It says that Davis' character had accepted the fact that she couldn't have everything she wanted — but she was grateful for what she had especially when you consider what she had to overcome to acquire it.

Davis was nominated for Best Actress but lost to Greer Garson in "Mrs. Miniver." Cooper was nominated for Best Supporting Actress (the first of her three nominations), but she lost to Teresa Wright, who also appeared in "Mrs. Miniver."

Max Steiner won an Oscar for his music score.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

'Mr. Smith' Was Capra-Corny



"It's a 40–foot dive into a tub of water, but I think you can do it."

Saunders (Jean Arthur)

(1939 is widely regarded as the greatest year ever for the motion picture. Ten movies were nominated for Best Picture that year, and today I take a look at the seventh of those 10 movies to hit the theaters.)
Back in February, Peggy Noonan wrote a column in which she mentioned the Netflix series "House of Cards." Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I must say that I have never seen an episode of this series, but, according to Noonan, the show "reinforces the idea that the capital has no room for clean people. The earnest, the diligent, the idealistic, they have no place there."

She could have been describing "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington," which premiered 75 years ago today.

Jimmy Stewart gave a lot of great movie performances during his career, and, while it would be hard to pick out the very best, I'm usually inclined to pick the one he gave in "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

In so many ways, it was a great civics lesson. It was a fictional story, of course, like The West Wing TV series of which I was so fond, and, like The West Wing, it dealt with real–life matters — like filling legislative vacancies and filibusters and things like that.

But it was also a Frank Capra story — which means it was made with a heaping helping of feel–good idealism. Because of that, Capra movies were often called "Capra–corn" — and "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" certainly was corny.

Well, Stewart's role was, anyway. He played a fellow named Jefferson Smith, a leader of the Boy Rangers in his state, truly a babe in the woods when it came to the ways of the world and Washington, a starry–eyed idealist who quoted American heroes like Jefferson and Lincoln and idolized his state's corrupt and thoroughly undeserving senior senator (played by Claude Rains). He was appointed to fill a vacancy left by the death of one of his state's U.S. senators.

But this wasn't entirely your standard "Capra–corn" fare. Nearly everyone else in the movie seemed to have a healthy dose of cynicism. Just not Jeff Smith. You probably couldn't find a more naïve individual. That was what his legislative aide, Saunders (Jean Arthur), loved about him. Pretty Capra–corny, huh?

"Did you ever have so much to say about something you just couldn't say it?"

Jeff Smith (James Stewart)

As a journalist, I have to say that I appreciated the comeuppance Smith got from the Washington media. I didn't think the press in that movie behaved in the way real–life reporters would under similar circumstances. They were a little rough on Stewart's clearly guileless character.

But they reached a point where they asserted that they could afford to be honest because they didn't have to face the voters to keep their jobs.

That's really a throwback to a bygone era. Far too many members of the modern press have compromised their principles — even though they still don't have to face the voters.

In "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington," many of the politicians were presented as being more virtuous than they almost certainly were in 1939. (It is beyond dispute that they were infinitely more virtuous than the politicians of today.)

Rains' character, caught up in the corruption Stewart was trying to defeat, confessed his sins on the Senate floor even though he had the upper hand against Stewart, whose voice was nearly gone from his filibuster.

"I guess this is just another lost cause, Mr. Paine. All you people don't know about lost causes. Mr. Paine does. He said once they were the only causes worth fighting for, and he fought for them once, for the only reason any man ever fights for them. Because of one plain simple rule: Love thy neighbor. And in this world today, full of hatred, a man who knows that one rule has a great trust."

Jeff Smith

And that is precisely the kind of corny–beyond–belief stuff that I'm talking about. For Capra–corn to work, there has to be a certain amount of plausibility there, however farfetched the story may be.

But the very notion that a politician, entrenched in a position of power, would behave so nobly is, well, hopelessly naïve. Perhaps it wasn't seen that way in 1939, but today, it is simply too farfetched.

Even if you tell yourself — if you stumble upon it while channel surfing — that "Mr. Smith" truly was Capra–corny, if you're like me, you'll watch it, anyway. It's entertaining, even if you've seen it several times before.

"Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" received 11 Oscar nominations, second only to "Gone With the Wind." Lewis R. Foster took home the Oscar for Best Story.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Casablanca is 70? I'm Shocked!



There are some lines from "Casablanca" that I heard so often when I was growing up that it sometimes seems as if I have always known them.

Those lines have become cliches, I suppose.

And it tends to make me lose my perspective a little, to forget when I first saw "Casablanca" — but, in the end, I always remember.

I'm not sure of my age — must've been about 12 or 13, I guess — but I remember the night. It was a Friday night in late autumn, and the local PBS channel was showing "Casablanca" with no interruptions.

The night was cool and kind of damp. My father built a fire in the fireplace, and my mother made some popcorn, and I settled in, wrapped in a warm blanket, to watch the movie with my parents.

I've seen it many times since, and I like it. I also like Humphrey Bogart, but I would pick two, maybe three, of his movies as my favorites before I would pick "Casablanca."

But "Casablanca," which premiered on this date in 1942, is often mentioned as one of Bogart's best. (OK, it was only released on a limited basis on this date — the more general release came the following spring — but I like to observe this date as the debut because, you see, this is my birthday — and God knows how little has happened on this date of which I can be proud).

In fact, I have a friend (whose opinions about movies are generally spot on) who says "Casablanca" is his favorite Bogart movie, and I can understand why. It's got it all — established stars, wartime intrigue, romance, even a dash or two of comedy.

There can be no doubt that many lines from "Casablanca" have become familiar cliches:
"Here's looking at you, kid."

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Play it, Sam."

"Round up the usual suspects."

"We'll always have Paris."

Without a doubt, those are some of the great lines in filmmaking history.

They still resonate because they speak to universal truths and emotions.

But there were other telling moments in the movie that were just as true and just as filled with human emotion.

Like when Bogart's character, feeling hurt and betrayed by Ingrid Bergman (but not yet knowing the whole story), says bitterly — and with more than a little help from the booze he'd been drinking — "Tell me, who was it you left me for? Was it Laszlo, or were there others in between? Or aren't you the kind that tells?"

I'm sure that many people, both men and women, who have watched that movie could sympathize. Been there, done that.

And there were more subtle lines that you almost have to see the movie two or three times to catch.

For example, when Nazi toady Claude Rains tells Bogart he might make a play for a young woman Bogart has just jilted, Bogart says, "When it comes to women, you're a true democrat."

During the same conversation, Rains asks Bogart what brought him to Casablanca.

"My health," Bogart replies. "I came here for the waters."

Bewildered, Rains says, "Waters? What waters? We're in the desert."

Bogart shrugs and takes a drag on his cigarette. "I was misinformed."

(The irony of that probably wasn't clear to audiences in 1942 and 1943. Cigarette smoking had not yet been linked to numerous health issues.)

Or later in the movie when Rains, who has been permitted to win at roulette at Bogart's place, nevertheless is ordered by his Nazi superiors to shut the place down.

When Bogart insists on knowing the reason, Rains replies, "I'm shocked – shocked! — to find that gambling is going on here."

One of the casino employees approaches him a second or two later and hands him a wad of cash, saying, "Your winnings, sir."

(That's probably my favorite scene in the movie.)

It really is a delightful movie, and if I stumble on to it in progress, even if it is already half over, I'll probably watch it to its conclusion. I'm that way about many movies, though.

I'm also that way about certain stars. "Casablanca" had the good fortune of having a good story (albeit one that was still being written after filming had already begun) and a great cast.

No wonder it won three Oscars — including Best Picture.