Showing posts with label Grace Kelly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grace Kelly. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 05, 2015

To Catch the Style of a Thief



Francie (Grace Kelly): I called the police from your room and told them who you are and everything you've been doing tonight.

Robie (Cary Grant): Everything? The boys must have really enjoyed that at headquarters.

Alfred Hitchcock and Stephen King had a lot in common — primarily the fact that each was/is misunderstood. People like to give labels to others, but King and Hitchcock really defied being pigeonholed. As a result, people who had little, if any, exposure to their work labeled them based on a vague comprehension of that work.

For example, while he is far more talented as a writer than labeling gives him credit for, Stephen King has been known as a master of the horror genre for decades. There is some truth to that, just as there is in most stereotypes, but King's skills really are more diverse. Dismissing him as only a horror writer does him a disservice.

Likewise, Hitchcock has been known for directing scary movies — probably the legacy of 1960's "Psycho," which may be his best known movie among non–devotees of Hitchcock's work. But even if the speaker has more familiarity with Hitchcock's movies than that, the speaker is still likely to think of Hitchcock as the director of scary movies.

I take issue with that. His movies weren't scary. They were electrifying. There is a difference.

Hitchcock himself regarded his movies as thrillers, suspense flicks even, not horror movies. It is true that most of his movies had a certain whodunnit quality to them because someone usually wound up dead at the hands of another; if that happened, the audience either saw it from a distance or after the fact. It wasn't explicit. But there were exceptions. Sometimes no one died at all, and such a movie, "To Catch a Thief," premiered on this day in 1955.

There were certain themes that Hitchcock explored frequently in his movies, one of which was mistaken identity. Those movies are among the most gripping that Hitchcock ever made — and "To Catch a Thief" was one of the best from that particular subset of Hitchcock movies.

It was also made smack dab in the middle of what could — arguably — be regarded as Hitchcock's peak period — the 1950s.

Of course, it starred Cary Grant, which had a lot to do with its success. I do think Grant did star in the best of Hitchcock's mistaken identity movies, but it wasn't "To Catch a Thief." It was "North by Northwest."

But that doesn't take anything away from "To Catch a Thief." It was a stylish movie. With Grant as its star, though, could it possibly be anything other than stylish?

Grant's co–star was the incomparable Grace Kelly. She had a brief career (11 movies in six years), but she made three of those movies with Hitchcock in the director's chair. You could always tell Hitchcock's favorites among the actors with whom he worked, too. They were the ones who were in more than one movie that he directed.

Grant was a favorite of Hitchcock's, too, appearing in four of Hitch's movies. Reportedly, Hitchcock said Grant was "the only actor I ever loved in my whole life." Read into that what one will.

Grant played a retired jewel thief known as "The Cat," who was leading a quiet life tending his vineyards on the French Riviera — nice work if you can get it, right? Out of the blue, burglaries bearing The Cat's signature began happening, and the police naturally suspected Grant's character was involved. He sought a sanctuary of sorts with his old gang from his French Resistance days, but they all suspected him of pulling off the crimes while they were under suspicion.

Grant decided that the way to prove that he was innocent was to catch the actual burglar in the act — and enlisted several people to help him, including Kelly, who still harbored suspicions of her own.

Nevertheless, Kelly became something of a rival for Grant's attention with a young French girl (played by Brigitte Auber), the daughter of one of Grant's old buddies and something of a love interest at one time. Based on her apparent age, one suspected that she may have had a schoolgirl crush on Grant. Right now, I don't recall what, if anything, was said about that. My memory is that it was mostly implied. But there was something there between them — or there had been at one time.

One–sided it may have been, but there was something there.

In a memorable scene in which the two women were introduced to each other while in the waters of the Riviera, Grant (Robie) said to Auber, "Say something nice to her, Danielle."

Auber replied in her distinctive French accent, "She looks a lot older up close."

Kelly remarked, "To a mere child, anything over 20 might seem old."

I've always thought Auber's response was one of the most classic of Hitchcock lines: "A child? Shall we stand in shallower water and discuss that?"

As beautiful as Kelly was, I have a hunch that, if she had accepted that challenge from the 27–year–old Auber (who was more than a year older than Kelly), it would have been a very close contest. Clearly, Auber did not have the figure of a child. Hers was a voluptuous figure compared to Kelly's. But Kelly was regal in her beauty — fitting, considering that she married the prince of Monaco less than a year later.

Many years after that, when Kelly suffered a stroke while driving her car in the hills of Monaco, it was said that her car went out of control along the same stretch of winding mountainside road where her character terrified Grant in "To Catch a Thief." I never found out if there was any truth to that.

Hitchcock, of course, liked having beautiful women in his movies, and he really hit the jackpot in "To Catch a Thief." Not only were the women beautiful, but one of them played a significant role in the story. Auber, it turned out, was the copycat Cat.

Oh, shoot, I've given away the ending, haven't I? Well, it's still an enjoyable movie, one that everyone should see once.

"To Catch a Thief" received Oscar nominations for Best Color Art Direction and Best Color Costume Design — and won for Best Color Cinematography.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Grace Kelly's Greatest Performance



Bernie (William Holden): Does your wife really want you to play this part?

Frank (Bing Crosby): Yeah, she's all for it.

Bernie: I was just wondering. The day I met her, she seemed a little difficult about terms and rather domineering, I thought.

Frank: She wasn't always like that.

Bernie: Oh I know, I know. They all start out as Juliets and wind up as Lady Macbeths.

For a woman as beautiful as Grace Kelly was, it seems ironic that she won her only Oscar for portraying a rather plain woman.

It proves how versatile she was as an actress — and how much the world lost when she gave up her acting career to marry and raise a family.

It wasn't so much that her character was a plain woman. You could see in her face traces of the once–beautiful young girl her character had been. After all, you could only do so much to Kelly's natural beauty, and Kelly herself was only 25 when "The Country Girl" premiered on this day in 1954. Making her look truly plain would have been an Oscar–worthy makeup achievement — if makeup had been honored by the Oscars at that time.

Maybe her character wasn't so much older than Kelly. Maybe it was just that she had grown bitter from her life's experiences. She struggled to keep her marriage to an alcoholic actor (Bing Crosby) afloat while he was trying to resurrect his career.

But he was weak.

And William Holden, as a young director and fan of Crosby's, intervened. At first, he was convinced that Kelly's character was the problem. But he came to realize that Kelly had been the one keeping Crosby going.

No, Grace Kelly was much more than a pretty face. In "The Country Girl," she proved she could act, too.

That really shouldn't have surprised anyone. Even though her prior roles emphasized her youth and beauty, her performances were good, too. They were just overlooked. It was often forgotten that she had been nominated for Best Supporting Actress the year before, but she wasn't nominated for her work in Alfred Hitchcock's movies — and she appeared in three of them — nor was she nominated for her work in "High Noon."

It came as a huge surprise to a lot of people when Kelly won Best Actress. The smart money said Judy Garland would win for "A Star Is Born," Garland's cinematic comeback. So certain, in fact, was NBC (the network that carried the Oscars in the 1950s) that a camera crew was dispatched to Garland's hospital room to broadcast her reaction when she won. Garland had just given birth to her son.

But Kelly won, and the camera crew had to silently pack up and slip out of the hospital. I've heard that many of them had left Garland's room before Kelly made it to the stage to accept her award.

Some people will still tell you that Garland deserved the award, but let me tell you this. I have seen both movies, and I am convinced that Kelly really deserved the Oscar that year. If Garland had beaten Kelly, that would have been a P.R. triumph, a case where the Oscar voters were bullied into voting for a particular nominee, not a case of the best actress being recognized for her performance.

I am sure that sort of thing happens from time to time. Thankfully, it did not happen 60 years ago. "The Country Girl" probably was Kelly's greatest performance in a career that, while short, was loaded with great performances.

Kelly wasn't the only one nominated for an Oscar. The movie was nominated for Best Picture, George Seaton was nominated for Best Director, Bing Crosby was nominated for Best Actor, Seaton was nominated for Best Story and Screenplay, and the art and set crews were nominated for Best Art Direction. But, other than Seaton (who won for Best Story and Screenplay), Kelly was the only one who won.

Friday, August 01, 2014

Killing Time



"That's no ordinary look. That's the kind of a look a man gives when he's afraid somebody might be watching him."

L.B. Jeffries (Jimmy Stewart)

I have written here before of my fondness for Alfred Hitchcock's movies.

I've seen most of them on TV, but "Rear Window" was an exception. In 1984, it was re–released to theaters to celebrate its 30th anniversary, and I took advantage of that opportunity. In fact, I remember going to the theater to see it. I couldn't tell you the exact date, but I remember the experience of seeing that movie in a theater — and not one of today's multi–cubicle screens but a single–screen theater like the kind that existed when "Rear Window" was first released.

It has always made me regret not having seen more of Hitchcock's movies on the big screen — because that really is where they should be seen. Well, most of them, anyway. Hitchcock's work predated the wide–screen format; because of that, I'm not sure if his early works are more impressive on a big screen than they are on a television screen. Some might be; others might not.

All of Hitchcock's wide–screen films probably should be seen on the big screen — at least once.

Anyway, that was the conclusion I reached after I saw "Rear Window" at the theater. It premiered 60 years ago today, but it was fresh and new to me when I saw it in 1984. I thought I was in love with Grace Kelly before I saw "Rear Window," but she was breathtaking when I saw her on the big screen.

I felt there was an electric kind of attraction between Kelly and Jimmy Stewart. I really regret that their only movie together was "Rear Window." Don't get me wrong. It was a great movie, but it was a one–shot wonder. They could have been one of the great movie teams of all time.

The American Film Institute rated "Rear Window" 48th of all time. AFI also named it 14th among the thrillers. Besides, the movie matched the #3 actor and the #13 actress of all time, according to another AFI list.

Who could ask for anything more?

"Rear Window" had the benefit of Hitchcock (nominated for an Oscar for his direction) and screenwriter John Michael Hayes (also nominated for an Oscar). That combination produced possibly the best of Hitchcock's movies. Well, that is what I have heard some critics say; that isn't a conclusion I would reach because I tend to think that "North by Northwest" is Hitchcock's best. My second choice probably would be "Psycho" or "Vertigo" — and then "Rear Window."

They're all good, certainly worth seeing on a big screen. (If I have a cinematic bucket list, it would include seeing those other three Hitchcock movies on a big screen before I die. Actually, I'd like to see them all that way, but if I can only see three, those are the three I would choose.)

The movie dealt primarily with voyeurism. "It's wrong, we know, to spy on others," wrote critic Roger Ebert, "but after all, aren't we always voyeurs when we go to the movies?"

Stewart's character was stuck in his apartment while he recuperated from a broken leg. A successful photographer, he filled his days by spying on his neighbors through the lens of his camera. The audience saw everything he saw. When he dozed off and missed things, the audience did, too.

His only regular visitors were his nurse (Thelma Ritter) and his girlfriend (Kelly). They were skeptical at first when he suggested that one of his neighbors (Raymond Burr) had apparently killed his wife, but Stewart's character persuaded them.

It didn't require much persuasion. Kelly's character was already eager to get Stewart's character to commit to her. It seemed like she would do just about anything to score points with him. "How far does a girl have to go before you notice her?" she asked at one point.

"Well if she's pretty enough," Stewart replied, "she doesn't have to go anywhere. She just has to be."

He insisted that "I'm not exactly on the other side of the room." They were locked in a passionate embrace at the time, which made it difficult to dispute what he said, but, nevertheless, Kelly begged to differ.

"Your mind is," she said. "When I want a man, I want all of you."

And I had to give it to Stewart's character. He kept his mind on the mystery he was trying to solve. Most men probably wouldn't have that kind of will power. I wouldn't. Not with Grace Kelly in my arms.

A lot of things have changed since "Rear Window" was made, and, if someone found himself in Stewart's position in 2014, he might not be able to use the same camera tactics that Stewart did — like using the flash to blind Raymond Burr when he was lured from his apartment and confronted the wheelchair–bound Stewart.

I had never seen Burr in a bad–guy role before. When I was a child, my father used to like to watch reruns of Perry Mason and Ironsides on weekend afternoons, and I watched them with him. As a result, I had an image in my head of Burr as the kind of guy who investigated and/or prosecuted crimes. He wasn't the kind of guy who committed crimes.

But, in "Rear Window," he was. At least, he was the kind of guy who could murder his wife and then try to dispose of her body. Stewart had reached that conclusion on his own; his problem was that he didn't have the kind of evidence that courts like to have.

"Rear Window" received four Oscar nominations, including (as I said earlier) one for Best Director (one of five for Hitchcock).

Thursday, May 29, 2014

The Wrong Number?



Tony (Ray Milland): How do you go about writing a detective story?

Mark (Robert Cummings): Well, you forget detection and concentrate on crime. Crime's the thing. And then you imagine you're going to steal something or murder somebody.

Tony: Oh, is that how you do it? It's interesting.

Mark: Yes, I usually put myself in the criminal's shoes and then I keep asking myself, what do I do next?

Margot (Grace Kelly): Do you really believe in the perfect murder?

Mark: Mmm, yes, absolutely. On paper, that is. And I think I could plan one better than most people; but I doubt if I could carry it out.

Tony: Oh? Why not?

Mark: Well, because in stories things usually turn out the way the author wants them to; and in real life they don't always. I'm afraid my murders would be something like my bridge. I'd make some stupid mistake and never realize it until I found everybody was looking at me.

"Dial M for Murder" premiered 60 years ago today.

That was before my time — which is true of nearly every Hitchcock movie — but I still enjoy watching it whenever it's on.

It seems dated now, I admit, but I didn't mind that when I saw it the first time. Nor did I mind that nearly all the action takes place in a single location, which makes it seem more like a stage play than a movie. Actually, the movie was based on a very successful stage play.

The author of that play, Frederick Knott, did the screenplay as well, which may account for its virtually seamless presentation. In my opinion, movie adaptations of books or plays usually turn out better if the original author is involved. That isn't always possible, of course, but if the author is involved, it seems to improve the chances that his/her vision will be faithfully represented on the big screen.

Well, it helps to have a good cast, too — and the cast of "Dial M for Murder" was top notch. I have written before of my admiration for Grace Kelly, and she was excellent as Margot, Ray Milland's wealthy and (for the most part) faithful wife. Her character was also a bit naive, I thought. But I'll get back to that in a minute.

At one point, Kelly was roused from her slumber by a ringing phone (which was intended to lure her into the living room, where her intended killer waited for her). It seemed to me, when I first saw "Dial M for Murder," that only a handful of humans have ever been able to roll out of bed and look like they were ready to go out on the town. Apparently, Grace Kelly was one of them.

Her character was also alert enough to fight back against her attacker and stab him with some scissors. She was convicted of murder (in one of the few segments in the movie that took place outside the cozy little flat that Kelly and Milland shared), but, apparently, she never figured out that Milland had planned the attack.

Well, not until the very end.

She had had an affair with an American writer (Robert Cummings) but then broke it off. He wrote several letters to her, all of which she destroyed except one, which disappeared. But she never put two and two together until it was spelled out for her at the end — the man she had killed had been sent to her apartment by her husband to kill her.

She had acted in self–defense.

I guess Margot was an exceptionally trusting sort. The first time I saw "Dial M for Murder," I thought Milland's complicity was obvious. Apparently, it never occurred to Kelly's character. Well, they say love is blind ...

In his droll yet understated way, John Williams, as the chief inspector, helped persuade her that her husband was behind it all.

But, while I always enjoy watching Kelly in any of her movies (and she made three of them for Hitchcock), I have to say I don't think her British accent was very convincing. For me, that was and continues to be a distraction, mainly because "Dial M for Murder" is such a talkative movie.

There is more to it, I suppose. My parents spent a lot of time overseas in the first years of their marriage, and they met many people from other countries, some of whom came to visit us in the United States later. A few of those people were British so I had more exposure to that accent (and some of its variations) than most.

But perhaps I am nitpicking. Most people probably didn't notice.

"Dial M for Murder" may seem to have a transparent plot — but you have to remember that the plot hasn't been a secret for 60 years. It probably packed quite a punch when it was new. Personally, I have always thought the early scene in which Milland blackmailed his old friend into murdering his wife was impressive.

AllMovie.com's Michael Costello appeared to agree. "Kelly, and Robert Cummings as her lover, are forced to contend with underwritten stock characters," Costello wrote. "Neither comes off particularly well."

I'm not sure I would take it quite that far. I have already praised Knott's "seamless" story and the quality of the cast — and I stand by that. I still think "Dial M for Murder" was a good movie, but maybe Costello was on to something. Kelly and Cummings did not come off well even though their characters prospered. Maybe it was hard for some viewers to care what happened to them.

Sometimes, I suppose, all the elements in a movie are good — until they're mixed together.

Technically, "Dial M for Murder" was noteworthy for its early attempt at 3–D. If you look closely, you can see remnants of the rudimentary technology that Hitchcock used to create the 3–D effect.

Personally, I have never really cared for the 3–D effect, but I was never sure why until I read an online journal entry by Roger Ebert.

"There is a mistaken belief that 3–D is 'realistic.' Not at all," Ebert wrote. "In real life we perceive in three dimensions, yes, but we do not perceive parts of our vision dislodging themselves from the rest and leaping at us. Nor do such things, such as arrows, cannonballs or fists, move so slowly that we can perceive them actually in motion. If a cannonball approached that slowly, it would be rolling on the ground."

I guess that explains it.

Wednesday, October 09, 2013

A Remake By Another Name



Most movie remakes are, to borrow from Yogi Berra, like deja vu all over again.

And "Mogambo," which was released 60 years ago today, was no exception.

Many years ago, I was watching a movie from the early 1930s on the late, late show called "Red Dust." I had never heard of it before, but I saw it in the listings, noticed that Clark Gable was in it, and decided to watch it.

When I did, I had the feeling that I had seen and heard the story before — and I had. It was, essentially, the same story with only a few deviations. The first movie was set in Indochina, the second was set in Africa, but darn near everything else was the same.

Well, except for one big thing. "Red Dust" had more energy, more sizzle. In spite of the improvements in filmmaking that had occurred in a couple of decades, "Mogambo" lacked something. "Red Dust" made "Mogambo" seem tame.

In "Red Dust," Gable was the overseer of a rubber plantation. In "Mogambo," he was a safari leader.

In both, he was the center of attention from two women, a primary love interest (Jean Harlow in the first, Ava Gardner in the second) and a married woman as a secondary love interest (Mary Astor in the first, Grace Kelly in the second).

Frankly, it was kind of disappointing. I mean, I would have expected this kind of setting with Gable, Gardner and Kelly — and director John Ford behind the camera — to be a cinematic slam dunk, but it really wasn't. Not compared to what it could have been.

Everything turned out the way viewers probably secretly hoped they would — Gable wound up with Gardner, and Kelly remained with her husband. The movie might have been made in Africa, but it was a Hollywood production.

In real life, I've been told, Gable and Kelly had an off–screen relationship that fizzled when their age difference (Gable was more than 28 years older) became too great to ignore.

On screen, though, the sparks — such as they were — were between Gable and Gardner, not Kelly.

I've often wondered if the so–called Hays Code was the reason "Mogambo" was so uninspiring, at least when compared to "Red Dust." The Hays Code imposed restrictions that would seem prudish compared to modern movie standards. "Red Dust" was made in the early days of the Hays Code, when movies could still get away with things they wouldn't be able to get away with for decades.

Perhaps that isn't fair. "Mogambo" did have some things going for it — it was shot on location, for one thing. "Red Dust" wasn't filmed in Indochina — it was filmed on a studio backlot in Hollywood, as I understand it — but Americans wouldn't be familiar with Indochina for another 35 years so it really didn't matter. I'm sure the studio heads figured no one would know the difference, and they were probably right.

Most Americans probably weren't too familiar with Africa, either, in 1953, but they likely had more of an idea of what Africa should look like than they did of Indochina.

Whether they did or not, what they got in "Mogambo" was the real thing, and the cinematography really was remarkable for its time. At the Academy Awards, though, Gardner and Kelly were rewarded with nominations, but the technical aspects were entirely overlooked.

And that, I think, is a shame. Gardner (nominated for Best Actress) and Kelly (nominated for Best Supporting Actress) were good, but I've seen both perform better. Gable wasn't nominated at all, and I have no problem with that. His role in "Mogambo" wasn't one of his best performances.

The material in "Mogambo" wasn't terrible — but neither was it great, and, while I have heard some people describe Gardner's performance as the best of her career, I'm inclined to think that several other performances were better.

I've always felt that Kelly was a rare mix of beauty and talent. There was a vulnerability to her performances that was very appealing, and I thought that vulnerability may never have been so striking as it was when Kelly played the young and lusty Linda of "Mogambo." Her character projected a cool reserve, but there was a smoldering sensuality beneath it.

I guess you could say that about all the roles she played — especially her roles in Hitchcock movies, which always seemed to bring out that quality in her performances.

It was still early in her career, though, and Kelly played a character that was a lot like the one she played a year earlier in "High Noon." She didn't begin to show her range as an actress until a year later, when she made "The Country Girl," for which she received her only Oscar.

I guess the biggest problem I had with "Mogambo" was that it never really made up its mind whether it was going to be a love story or an adventure movie. Ford seemed to want to make "Mogambo" a story worthy of Hemingway — and there were plenty of jungle scenes — but the star power of the cast seemed to pull him back to the love triangle.

In the end, I guess you could say the love triangle won. Again, this is a Hollywood production we're talking about.

But sometimes I think it was more of an adventure story. That's the real problem with remakes.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

The Tragedy of Grace Kelly



Friday was an odd kind of day for me.

I spent much of it working with journalism students, which isn't the odd part because I usually do that on Fridays during the school year, but my thoughts kept returning to that mid–September day in 1982, when I heard that Grace Kelly had suffered a stroke while driving in Monaco and died after crashing the vehicle.

She was perhaps the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and, at 52, she was much too young to be dead — even though she had been away from Hollywood for more than 20 years.

She gave up the life of a movie star to become a real–life princess — although I suppose just about anyone who saw her as a young woman would say that she always had a somewhat regal bearing.

But she retained the common touch.

"I just love Grace Kelly," Jimmy Stewart, her co–star in "Rear Window," said at her funeral. "Not because she was a princess, not because she was an actress, not because she was my friend, but because she was just about the nicest lady I ever met."

Everyone loved Grace Kelly. I never knew anyone who didn't.

I remember the first time I saw "Rear Window." It had been re–released to theaters to mark the 30th anniversary of its original theatrical release so I went to see it on one of my days off.

It was a glorious thing to behold on the big screen. I could see for myself what my parents had always told me — that Hitchcock was meant to be experienced on the really big screen. No TV screen, no matter how large, could really do justice to a Hitchcock movie.

The reviewer in the local paper had seen it in all its restored splendor, and he promised his readers that Grace Kelly was "as beautiful as you remember."

Since it was my first time to see the movie, of course, I had no memory of her in it, but I had seen other movies in which she appeared — "High Noon," "Dial M for Murder," "The Country Girl" — and I looked forward to seeing her in it.

I was not disappointed.

Kelly's role in that movie was much more complex than it may have seemed on the surface. For that matter, Kelly herself was more complex than she may have appeared to some.

There was a shyness to her that was often concealed by her smoldering beauty, and there was a mind–bending life–imitates–art quality (or should that be art imitates life?) to Grace Kelly. She played a princess on the screen, then became one in real life.

But she was always a princess in the hearts of her fans.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

What We Lost When We Lost Henry Fonda



When I was growing up, I couldn't imagine a world that didn't have Henry Fonda or Jimmy Stewart in it.

They were always two of my favorite actors, still are even today. In fact, they were both in the first movie I can remember seeing at the movie theater in my hometown — "How the West Was Won" — which wasn't a new release when it came to my then–tiny hometown (but nothing ever was).

I guess every year has its share of deaths of irreplaceable people.

It is often said that a recently deceased person will be missed. And often, I suppose, that is true.

But I guess it was never more relevant than it was to the movie industry — and, by extension, the world — in late 1982.

In September, Grace Kelly died when she suffered a stroke while driving on the winding, hilly roads of Monaco and crashed her car. She died without regaining consciousness.

And about a month earlier, on Aug. 12, 1982 — 30 years ago today — Fonda died. His death had been anticipated — he'd been ill for awhile — but it was no less devastating.

Audiences had come to take him for granted, I guess. I know I did. He was a steady, reliable performer. You knew what you would be getting when you saw a Henry Fonda movie — well, most of the time you did. When he played against type in "Once Upon a Time in the West," it was more than some moviegoers could fathom.

When he died in 1982, he had been in Hollywood for nearly half a century, and he had just been honored by the Academy Awards with the Oscar for Best Actor for his performance in "On Golden Pond."

It was recognition that he had long deserved but had been denied to him. His career had been filled with exceptional performances, but only once before had he been nominated for Best Actor — in 1940, when he was nominated for "The Grapes of Wrath" (but lost to Stewart for "The Philadelphia Story").

His performances in movies like "The Lady Eve," "The Ox–Bow Incident," "Mister Roberts," "Fail–Safe" and "Once Upon a Time in the West" — and dozens of others — went unnoticed repeatedly at Oscar time.

Over the years, Oscar didn't treat Fonda so well. The American Film Institute included two of Fonda's movies on its list of the top 100 movies of all time, but the only time one of his movies was nominated for Best Picture — "12 Angry Men" in 1957 — it lost (to "The Bridge on the River Kwai").

At the time that he died, it occurred to me that the old adage about not knowing what you've got until you no longer have it may never have been more relevant than it was when applied to Fonda's life and career.

On countless occasions in my life, I have been guided by the memory of the words and actions of characters that Fonda played in his life.

In his personal life, as I understand it, Fonda was a flawed individual, perceived by many of those closest to him, especially his children, as aloof and distant. And perhaps he was.

But when he was in front of a camera, the words he was given to speak and the roles he was asked to play took on even greater meaning because Fonda brought so much strength of character to each.

I suppose that was also what made his performance in "Once Upon a Time in the West" so menacing. In the hands of another actor who didn't command the respect Fonda did, that role might have been almost laughable.

But Fonda, cast as a cold–blooded, indiscriminate killer, had a nearly immortal aura to him. He was kind of the Freddy Krueger of the spaghetti Western.

Fonda was truly a gifted actor. In most of his movies, his gift came across in an almost "aw, shucks" kind of way. On the night in 1982 when his daughter accepted his Best Actor Oscar for him because he was too ill to attend, she told the audience she was sure her father's reaction would be to praise those with whom he worked and, of his own recognition, to say, "Ain't I lucky?"

And that was how he looked at his accomplishments in his life, Jane Fonda said. He gave all the credit to those with whom he worked and paid little if any attention to his own skill.

We were the lucky ones — to have had him as long as we did.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

'High Noon:' A Thinking Man's Western



I've never been much of a fan of westerns — there have been some I liked, but that was mostly because those movies made you think. They weren't about gunfights alone.

"High Noon" — which premiered 60 years ago today — was such a movie.

It's been many years now, but I can still remember the day I first saw "High Noon."

I was in college, taking a film appreciation class. There were several such fine arts courses on the Arts and Sciences' basic requirements list. A student didn't have to take them all but did have to take two or three so enrollment in each was usually quite high every semester. To satisfy the demand, the school offered several classes of each every semester.

Choosing the film class to fulfill part of that particular academic requirement was a no–brainer for me. I have always enjoyed classic movies, and it turned out that the instructor liked to show movies in class, which met for two hours at a time, and then discuss them.

One day, he showed us "High Noon." That was hardly surprising. "High Noon" was — and still is — regarded as a classic.

What was surprising, I guess, was the fact that I had never seen it before. I was well acquainted with many other classic movies by the time I got to college, and we watched several of them in that class, but I had never seen that one. Strange.

Well, I was mesmerized.

I suppose part of it was the contrast. I mean, it was a late winter/early spring kind of day — cold, windy, a bit snowy. I remember being bundled up in layers of clothing as one typically had to be to go from building to building on the University of Arkansas campus at that time of year — and then practically breaking into a sweat the minute I walked into the seemingly always overheated fine arts building.

On the other hand, "High Noon" seemed to be set in a hot, dry, dusty Western town. I don't know what time of the year it was supposed to be, but I have heard that the location filming was done in the late summer and early fall.

The time of year really didn't play an important role in the story. It happened to be set in the West, but it could have been anywhere. The story was about a man's battle with his conscience — and a similar battle waged by his pacifist Quaker bride — when word spreads that a dangerous criminal is coming to town with his gang.

Then the struggle was to persuade the people of the town to stand with him.

The man was played by Gary Cooper, of course. Many critics thought he was miscast. He was nearly 30 years older than his love interest (Grace Kelly), but, in many ways, he was the best, the only choice.

He was definitely an heroic figure.

He was — arguably — the most heroic of Hollywood's leading men of that time. He had already won one Best Actor Oscar for his portrayal of World War I hero Sgt. York — and he received another statuette for his performance as Will Kane, the sheriff in "High Noon."

Kelly, who was not yet 23 when the film was released, was making her debut in a leading role, and she did a spectacular job.

I had seen her in other movies before I saw "High Noon," but it was when I saw "High Noon" that I fell in love with her — one of those this–cannot–possibly–happen kind of things.

Kelly didn't win the Oscar for her performance in "High Noon." That kind of recognition came a couple of years later when she received the Best Actress Oscar for "The Country Girl."

But I've thought, ever since that brisk northwest Arkansas day when I first saw "High Noon," that it wouldn't have been the same without her.

Her career was a bit sluggish after "High Noon," though. But it picked up. She only made nine more movies before she retired from acting to assume the duties of princess of Monaco, but she made three ("Dial M for Murder," "To Catch a Thief" and "Rear Window") under the direction of Alfred Hitchcock.

She never made another film with Fred Zinnemann, her director on "High Noon."

Zinnemann's movies were nominated for a total of 65 Oscars and won 24 of them. But Kelly wasn't nominated for her work in "High Noon."

I'm not sure why that was so.

But her performance deserved a nomination.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Catch a Thief Tomorrow



Alfred Hitchcock nearly always made movies about murders.

But tomorrow at 1 p.m. (Central), you can see a rare exception to that rule on Turner Classic Movies.

As a matter of fact, although people frequently were killed in Hitchcock movies, the violence itself was seldom ever seen. You can come up with exceptions to that rule, too, I suppose, but even though Hitchcock, as I implied last month, could be said to be the originator of the so–called "slasher" flick — "Psycho" — his true genre was suspense, not horror.

Violence was not his stock in trade, but stories about murder and murderous intent were.

"To Catch a Thief" was about neither, really. Oh, sure, a character gets killed in the movie, but it's a case of self–defense. It was incidental, not terribly pertinent to the overall story, which was about burglary and mistaken identity.

For the most part, "To Catch a Thief" is a romance and a thriller. And how could it not be, with those two leads (Cary Grant and Grace Kelly)?

The film won an Oscar for Best Cinematography, which is not hard to understand, given that much of it was filmed on the French Riviera. That must have been a fun assignment. One should never underestimate the influence and cinematic power of imagery from that part of the world.

In fact, many years later, after Kelly — who was, by that time, known simply as Princess Grace of Monaco — suffered a stroke and crashed her car while driving on a winding road in Monaco, dying of her injuries the following day, she was said to have been traveling on the very same road on which she took Grant for a harrowing ride in "To Catch a Thief."

That has since been disproven, but it persists as an urban legend, nearly 30 years after Grace's death — a testament, I suppose, to the power of the image.

Anyway, if you're in the mood for some escapism on a hot summer afternoon, look no further than your TV. "To Catch a Thief" has all the wit and sophistication — and breathtaking scenery — you could ask for.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

A Holiday Treat With Grace Kelly



On Thanksgiving night, Turner Classic Movies will conclude its "Star of the Month" tribute to Grace Kelly with the last three movies she made and a 32–minute short film of her 1956 marriage to Prince Rainier of Monaco.

It's always a treat to see Grace Kelly in a movie, but one of the movies scheduled to be shown on Thursday night clearly stands out above the other two. It is the last film she made for Alfred Hitchcock, "To Catch a Thief," and there are so many things to recommend about it that I hardly know where to begin.

I guess we could start with the sterling cast that Hitchcock assembled — Cary Grant, John Williams, Jessie Royce Landis (her name may not be familiar to many viewers, but her face probably is — she and Grant were reunited in Hitchcock's "North by Northwest" a few years later and she co–starred with Kelly again in TCM's third Grace Kelly film of the evening, "The Swan").

Another reason to watch the film is the gorgeous scenery. It was filmed on the French Riviera. In fact, there was a persistent rumor, after Kelly suffered a stroke in 1982 and died the next day from injuries she sustained when the car she was driving went out of control and crashed, that she had been driving on the same mountainside highway that she had driven so recklessly with Grant sitting next to her in "To Catch a Thief." Her son repeatedly denied that there was any truth to the rumor.

Unlike most Hitchcock movies, it isn't about a murder. It's about a jewel thief who is at large. Grant plays a retired jewel thief who is assumed to be guilty by just about everyone, although he insists he is innocent.

It was a groundbreaking film for Hitchcock, too. It was his first film in the widescreen process VistaVision.

Some people dismiss it as one of Hitchcock's lesser films. I have two things to say in response:
  1. Most movie directors can only hope to match the quality of Hitchcock's "lesser" films.

  2. The movie was made years before I was born so I have no idea what audience reactions were like in 1955. But with its cast, the cinematography and the snappy dialogue, "To Catch a Thief" must have been a real pleasure to watch, thoroughly entertaining and engrossing.

    It still is.
TCM will show it at 7 p.m. (Central) on Thursday.

My birthday happens to fall on Thanksgiving this year. And I can think of few gifts that I will enjoy more than an evening of Grace Kelly movies.

The short film of the wedding comes on at 1 a.m. (Central). I've never seen it, but, if you're expecting something lengthy and grand, like the 1981 wedding of Charles and Diana, prepare yourself. Grace and Rainier were married in a 40–minute civil ceremony in the Palace Throne Room. There was a church ceremony the next day.

Apparently, everything was televised in Europe. But it doesn't seem to have been as ornate as Charles and Diana's wedding. Anyway, as I say, I've never seen it. Judge for yourself.

Saturday, November 07, 2009

Grace Kelly's Birthday Is Coming Up



Grace Kelly always reminded me of a line that was spoken by Andy Griffith on the old Andy Griffith Show.

In an early episode, Barbara Eden played a manicurist who came to Mayberry and began working at Floyd's barber shop. Her presence in town was welcomed by the men and resented by the women, but she seemed to be oblivious to all the attention that was paid to her physical charms.

So, finally, Andy took her aside and said to her, "I don't know whether you know this or not, but, uh ... well, uh ... nature's been good to you. I mean real, real, REAL good. I can't remember when I've seen nature spend so much time on any one person."

I don't think Grace Kelly was unaware that she was beautiful. And I don't think she was unaware of her talents as an actress. But sometimes I did think she was unaware of just how stunning she was.

And she was stunning all her life. When she suffered a stroke while driving down a mountainside road in 1982 and died from the injuries she sustained when the vehicle went out of control and crashed, she was still beautiful at the age of 52. If you are skeptical, just take a look at the picture at right that was taken of her a little over a year before her death.

Her career was brief. She made 11 films in five years, often co–starring with some of the top leading men of her era (Gary Cooper, Clark Gable, James Stewart, Cary Grant, William Holden, Alec Guinness and Bing Crosby) and performing for some of the great directors of all time (including Alfred Hitchcock three times).

She really did seem to have every gift. But, as things turned out, Ted Kennedy could have been talking about her when he eulogized John F. Kennedy Jr. when he was killed in a plane crash 10 years ago — she had every gift but the gift of years.

And this month, Turner Classic Movies is showing Kelly's movies on Thursday nights, giving viewers a weekly opportunity to appreciate those gifts.

This Thursday is particularly special because it would have been her 80th birthday (and, one suspects, she still would have been beautiful upon entering her ninth decade). For the occasion, TCM is showing three of her best movies, all of which were made when she was 24 years old.

Two of her Hitchcock movies will get things started — first up is "Dial M For Murder" at 7 p.m. (Central), which tends to emphasize dialogue a little more than most Hitchcock films. And it may be one of the most predictable films she made, although that may have been inevitable, given that it started as a stage play.

That one will be followed by "Rear Window" at 9 p.m. (Central).

With the exception of "High Noon," which was shown on TCM last week, it may be the best movie she ever made.

I will always remember the first time I saw it. It was a couple of years after Kelly's death, and "Rear Window" was re–released at theaters to mark the 30th anniversary of its theatrical debut. It is the only Hitchcock movie I have ever seen on the big screen, and, for my money, that is the best way to experience a Hitchcock movie.

But even if you only see it on TV, it is well worth watching, particularly if you have never seen it before.

The final Grace Kelly film of the evening certainly deserves to be shown on her birthday. Her role in "The Country Girl," which will be shown at 11 p.m. (Central), was something of a stretch for her, but she handled it well and was rewarded with the Oscar for Best Actress.

I don't remember how old I was when I first saw a Grace Kelly film. But, from that moment on, she was my definition of true beauty. I vividly remember grieving when I heard she had died.

But I'm grateful that, thanks to films, she lives on for future movie fans to appreciate.

Thursday, November 05, 2009

It's High Time You Saw 'High Noon'



It's been 57 years since "High Noon" was released. The Western existed as a film genre long before director Fred Zinnemann and producer Stanley Kramer joined forces to make it, but, in many ways, "High Noon" redefined the phrase "Western classic."

If you consider yourself a fan of classic movies and you haven't seen it, you owe it to yourself to watch it when Turner Classic Movies shows it tonight at 9 p.m. (Central).

It's part of a three–film salute to Grace Kelly. Actually, they're the first three films that featured Kelly (in chronological order), but, for my money, "High Noon" is the best of the three. The first film in the salute on TCM tonight was Kelly's debut, "Fourteen Hours," so she wasn't the star. Since it was her debut, Kelly's role was modest. But, for film historians, it is a rare opportunity to see how Kelly's brief film career began.

Then, after TCM shows "High Noon," you can watch a movie — "Mogambo" — that is probably a little better known than "Fourteen Hours," perhaps because Kelly's co–stars are more familiar to contemporary viewers.

But "High Noon," Kelly's second film, was stunning. The film's writer, Carl Foreman, said the story was meant as an allegory of the unimpeded rise of McCarthyism at the time. And, unlike nearly all the Westerns that came before, there was virtually no gunplay until the last 10 minutes or so.

In "High Noon," Kelly plays the Quaker bride of a Western marshal (played by Gary Cooper) whose wedding day is ruined by the anticipated arrival of a gang of killers. The ever–present clocks tick off the minutes of the story in real time, building the tension as Cooper resolves not to leave town as planned but remains to face the outlaws alone. It wasn't what he had in mind, but the citizens of the town refuse to stand with him and his pacifist bride leaves without him when she realizes he feels obligated to defend the town.

"High Noon" remains a controversial film. It lost Best Picture in a still disputed decision that awarded the Oscar to "The Greatest Show on Earth," and the image of a Western marshal begging for help so offended legendary Western star John Wayne that it led to the blacklisting of Foreman (who later wrote the screenplays for "The Bridge on the River Kwai" and "The Guns of Navarone").

But it was a groundbreaking film, and it remains a thought–provoking one. A true film fan cannot say that his or her movie viewing is complete until it has been seen at least once.

The film is ranked 27th on the American Film Institute's Top 100 movies of all time.