M K Aston

Film Review: I Was Monty’s Double

Based on the book of the same name by M.E. Clifton James, this movie is less interesting than the true story it tells. Having said that, It’s still an exciting and enjoyable way to spend an hour and a half.

First the story.

After serving in World War I, Meyrick Edward Clifton James, an Australian by birth, took up acting. Music halls and theatres were his workshop. When the Second World War kicked off he volunteered in the British Army as an entertainer but instead of getting assigned to the Entertainments National Service Association, which would have seen him touring for the troops, he was posted into the Royal Army Pay Corps and eventually stationed in Leicester where his acting was limited to the Pay Corps Drama and Variety Group. Minor stuff indeed.

But James had an attribute that would elevate him onto the world’s stage and make him go down in history. He bared a uncanny resemblance to General Bernard Montgomery.

It was while appearing briefly in a show dressed as ‘Monty’ that he was spotted by a British Lieutenant-Colonel, J.V.B. Jervis-Reid, and with D-Day less than two months away, MI5 decided to take a risk on the resemblance and cooked up a plan to confuse the Germans.

James was invited to London to meet Lieutenant-Colonel David Niven (yes, that one) of the Army’s film unit on the pretext of appearing in a film. Once the officials were convinced with his likeness to Monty, he was told the real reason for his summons.

Operation Copperhead, would see James assigned to Montgomery’s staff in order that he may learn his speech and his mannerisms. James had to quit drinking and smoking and, having lost the middle finger of his right hand during the First World War, a prosthetic one was made for him.

This ruse was part of a wider deception known as Operation Bodyguard, which intended to confuse the Germans as to the exact date and location of an invasion. One of these deceptions was that an Allied invasion of Southern France (Operation Dragoon) would precede the D-Day landings. The objective was clear; to keep as much of the German Army away from Normandy as possible.

On 25 May 1944, less than two weeks before D-Day, James (as Monty) flew to Gibraltar on Winston Churchill’s private plane to attend a reception at the Govenor-General’s house and later on to Algiers for several public appearances. The Allies knew that German intelligence agents would spot this high-profile Allied commander and report his whereabouts to the German high command. And Montgomery appearing in North Africa, for talks about ‘Plan 303’ a (fake) plan to invade Southern France, meant he wasn’t concentrating on a possible invasion in the north.

James, who apparently did not enjoy the assignment due to the pressures of the objective, was then secretly flown to Cairo where he remained until Operation Overlord (the invasion of Normandy) was well under way.

Reports on the value of Operation Copperhead are unclear but suggest that it had little impact on the Germans. However, taken as part of the wider Operation Bodyguard, it was a resounding success. The Germans in Normandy were taken by surprise and there was a considerable delay in reinforcements reaching the area from the Calais region.

That’s the story.

Now for the film.

This 1958 John Mills vehicle follows the account fairly well. Mills, who is always worth watching, plays Major Harvey, the intelligence agent who sees ‘Monty’ on a London stage and devises the plan with the help of his boss Colonel Logan (Cecil Parker). M.E. Clifton James (playing himself) is doubtful he can pull off such a deception but is persuaded to anyway.

Under the disguise of a corporal, he spends several days at Montgomery’s headquarters to learn the general’s mannerisms and speech patterns and is then flown off to tour North Africa.

It’s all quite exciting and there’s a little humour injected into proceedings too as well as some nice tension. But towards the end, the film strays from the truth when there is a bungled kidnap attempt made on James once his job is done and he’s resting securely at a heavily guarded villa. Dramatic licence of course but still entertaining.

The film was directed by John Guillermin, who would go on to direct The Bridge at Remagen (1969) and The Towering Inferno (1974) among others and the story was adapted by Bryan Forbes, the acclaimed director, writer, producer and actor whose credits include Whistle Down the Wind (1961) and The Stepford Wives (1975).

All in, this is a great little film and it tells a terrific story. M.E. Clifton James must have had great courage to take on such a role and I’m glad the film remains to honour him as I’m not sure his story is that well known.

The Second World War is littered with these amazing tales of disinformation such as my previously written review, ‘The Man Who Never Was’ which concerned Operation Mincemeat. Some of the ruses dreamed up were (and still are) absolutely fantastic and the fact that the enemy fell for many of them, shows just how ingenious they were.

Film Review: Days of Wine and Roses

While attending the 1963 Academy Awards, Gregory Peck was (according to IMDB), totally convinced that his good friend Jack Lemmon would beat him to the Best Actor Oscar for his searing portrayal of an alcoholic in Days of Wine and Roses.

It was reading this snippet of trivia while researching my last review for To Kill a Mockingbird that led me to this movie. I think it also highlights how unjust the awards are because to choose Peck’s performance over Lemmon’s is like saying David Rudisha is a better runner than Mo Farah or Usain Bolt. Some Hollywood icon (whose name escapes me right now) once stated that, in order to judge which actor has given the best performance of the year, surely they all need to playing the same role.

But la de da! That’s the way it is.

Anyhoo, the snippet led to me to the movie and so I watched it. And, to quote Dr Sam Beckett from the beginning of each episode of Quantum Leap – “Oh Boy!”

Days of Wine and Roses tell the story of Joe Clay (Jack Lemmon), a skilled PR man who can booze with the best of them. He has to, for it seems to go hand in hand with his job. But what he really is, is an alcoholic.

One day he meets and falls in love with the pretty secretary of a client, Kristen Arnasen (played by Lee Remick), who happens to be a teetotaller. Her weakness, she admits on their first date, is chocolate, but that changes once Joe introduces her to Brandy Alexanders – a brandy based cocktail with creme de cocoa.

The pair get married and soon have a child but Joe’s drinking worsens and because he doesn’t want to come home after a hard day’s work to spend a quiet, sober evening with his dull, “shushing” wife, she feels pressured into “loosening up” over a few drinks with him. And from there, their downward spiral into full-blown alcoholism is rapid and full. Suddenly, what started out as a slightly quirky romance film (albeit one with a subtle underlying sense of doom) becomes a powerful and bleak tale of addiction and ruin.

The film was adapted by JP Miller, who wrote the original Emmy nominated teleplay for Playhouse 90 in 1958. Producer Martin Manulis (also from the Playhouse 90 team) thought the story would make a good movie and so with Blake Edwards (Breakfast at Tiffany’s, The Pink Panther) in the director’s chair, Charles Bickford (A Star is Born, The Big Country) and Jack Klugman (12 Angry Men, Quincy M.E.) giving solid acting support and Henry Mancini providing the music, they made the movie partly on location in San Francisco and then set out on the road for the Oscars.

It would win only one Academy Award for Best Original Song, Mancini (music) and Johnny Mercer (lyrics) but it got four other nominations – Best Actor (Lemmon), Best Actress (Remick), Best Art Direction and Best Costume Design.

Days of Wine and Roses is most definitely not a feel-good movie but it will make you think about your own drinking habits, however briefly. It’s engrossing film drama though and I’m not at all surprised to read that it is required viewing in many alcoholic and drug rehabilitation clinics across the U.S. It’s that real.

Film Review: To Kill a Mockingbird

If I was allowed just one word to sum up this movie it would be, “beautiful”. For it truly is. I caught it recently on TV (mercifully without those dangerously irritating commercial interruptions), and as the end credits rolled, a feeling of what I can only describe as ‘euphoria for being alive’ came over me. I’m sure you know what I mean – when you behold something so incredibly worthy of our world that it just makes you glad to be here, be it a clear night sky riddled with a billion stars or a toddler’s first steps towards your beckoning arms, smiling a smile that just melts your heart.

What possibly makes the film so beautiful is the way that it’s told through the eyes of six year old Scout Finch (Mary Badham) who, together with her older brother Jem (Phillip Alford), lives in the fictional ‘tired old town’ of Maycomb, Alabama with their widowed father Atticus (Gregory Peck) sometime during the Great Depression.

I shall refrain from giving away too much of the plot but the meat of the story can be divided into two parts. Firstly, the children, together with a visiting boy named Dill Harris (John Megna) who comes to Maycomb every summer to stay with his aunt, are fascinated to learn the truth about one of their neighbours, the mysterious and reclusive ‘Boo’ Radley (played by Robert Duvall in his big screen debut). This involves lots of childish antics like spying through the neighbour’s windows and knocking on their front door then running away to hide. All perfectly charming kid’s stuff and you can’t help but love the little rascals for it.

The second part concerns their father – a town lawyer – and his defence of Tom Robinson (Brock Peters), a black man accused of raping a young white woman. With the action taking place sometime in the 1930s at a time when black people were viewed in the town to be inferior than whites, things basically don’t look good for Tom. But Atticus, who believes that all people should be treated equally and fairly, is determined to seek the truth even if it sets the town against him.

For me, the greatness of the film lies in the way it weaves this second storyline (which even though it’s the business of the adults, we, the audience, still receive via the eyes and ears of Scout) so seamlessly with the first. And it’s this innocent person’s perspective of not fully comprehending the reason why things are happening the way they are, that gives the film its power. Racism really doesn’t make any sense.

Of course, such greatness on screen is born out of great writing and To Kill a Mockingbird is Harper Lee’s 1961 Pulitzer Prize winning novel. The book itself is a masterpiece and has since become a modern classic of American literature and Robert Mulligan (director) together with Horton Foote (screenwriter) did one of the best jobs in the history of cinema of turning a novel into a film.

Foote won the Oscar for his screenplay and Peck won the only Oscar of his long and distinguished career for his sublime portrayal of Atticus Finch. The film’s third and final Oscar win was for its Black and White Art Direction-Set Direction. There were five more nominations for it at the 1963 Academy Awards including Best Picture (Alan J. Pakula), Best Supporting Actress (Mary Badham – who at 10 years old held the record for the youngest nominee in this category until Tatum O’Neal won for Paper Moon in 1973), Best Director (Mulligan), Best Cinematography (Russell Harlan) and Best Music Score (Elmer Bernstein). Bernstein’s music is effortlessly moving and the black and white cinematography serves well at placing the film in the time it was set. Of course, there are numerous other awards and honours the film has garnered over the years and to list them would require more space than I have here but perhaps the most significant is this –

The American Film Institute named Atticus Finch the greatest movie hero of the 20th Century. I find this quite remarkable when you think of all the gun-toting, macho types that typify a movie hero these days. Well deserved of the honour he is too. And well deserved was Peck’s Oscar. According to IMDB, he nailed his 9 minute summation speech in one take and if you’ve seen it, you’ll know it’s a seminal courtroom monologue.

On second thoughts, maybe my one word to sum this film up would be, “perfect”. For in cinematic terms, that’s what it is. But there’s been so much praise about this film since its release in December 1962 that a few more words from me mean very little. Therefore, I will let one of the film’s original tag lines have the last word.

If you have read the novel, you will relive every treasured moment…If not, a deeply moving experience awaits you!

Classic TV Review: Secret Army

For anyone who may have cast an inquisitive or nostalgic eye over my review for the TV show Colditz last September, this piece will probably come as no surprise. I did, after all, say it was highly likely I would bring this show up again. Classic British TV pretty much sums Secret Army up.

It was created by Gerard Glaister (that’s the link with Colditz) jointly by the BBC and the Belgian BRT (now VRT) and it originally aired between September ’77 and December ’79 just about at the time my parents ushered me off to bed. I can well remember being awed by – and a little bit afraid of – the atmospheric and rather bleak opening titles and that wonderful, almost Rachmaninoff-like theme tune which does such a fine job of setting the tone for the show. Alan Jeapes, whose other credits include Eastenders, won a BAFTA for his efforts with these opening (and presumably closing) titles while Robert Farnon, who also wrote the music for more than forty films including Captain Horatio Hornblower R.N. gave us the theme tune.

Secret Army is a story about a fictional resistance movement in Belgium during the Second World War called ‘Lifeline’. Loosely based on the real life ‘Comet line’ which helped allied soldiers and airmen return to Britain via France and Spain and on through Gibraltar, there is a realism to the show that makes it totally engaging. Indeed, Glaister, who was an RAF pilot during the war and would later be awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his services as a photo reconnaissance pilot in the Western Desert, drew on his experiences as inspiration for the series.

The Café Candide is the main setting of the show and it is run by Albert Foiret (Bernard Hepton) and acts as the hub for the characters. It is the Rovers Return (apologies for another soap reference) of the show, where meetings take place and information is passed that drives the plots. The café is situated somewhere around Brussels where the locals as well as the occupying Nazi forces frequent the place while Albert covertly helps Lisa Colbert (Jan Francis) – a doctor’s assistant by day and a leader of the resistance by night – run ‘Lifeline’. Other members of this ‘secret army’ abound such as the waitress Natalie (Juliet Hammond-Hill) and Albert’s mistress Monique (Angela Richards). If this scenario is beginning to ring bells, then those bells are most probably chiming the theme tune to the sitcom ‘Allo ‘Allo!, which was a hugely popular but dare I say it, rather idiotic, parody of Secret Army, which ran from 1982-92.

The rest of the characters are either locals, fellow collaborators like S.O.E. Officer Flight Lieutenant John Curtis (Christopher Neame), Nazis or allied officers trying to get back to Blighty and it’s the job of the resistance to make that happen. Of course, there would be no tension if there wasn’t the opposing force and therefore, it’s the job of Major Brandt (Michael Culver) and Sturmbannführer Ludwig Kessler (Clifford Rose) to capture every single evader, unearth every safe-house and to close down the evasion line. And therein lies the game of cat and mouse, the show’s recipe for excitement, as one side always tries to gain the upper hand on the other. But it’s a game that costs lives.

I can’t tell you what happens to the characters as the show progresses through its 43 episodes (3 seasons) because I haven’t seen them all yet. But what I have seen has been enough to make me cross my fingers and hope that it gets a rerun on TV soon. There’s nothing gratuitous in the writing, as there is with many contemporary shows; it’s just damn fine storytelling inspired by real-life events. In fact, according to the trivia on IMDB, every one of the scripts were based on real events and thoroughly researched to the point that on more than one occasion, the BBC had to reject a script on the basis that it was deemed too accurate and therefore potentially upsetting to audiences or too politically sensitive. How’s that for reality TV.

Film Review: My Man Godfrey

I hope you haven’t had a complete bellyful of the Oscars just yet because I’ve got one more little fact I’d like to share with you which I stumbled upon while reading up for this review. It’s no game changer and nothing that’ll have you losing sleep so don’t worry but, here goes – The 9th Academy Awards ceremony which was held in March 1937 was the first time that supporting actors and actresses had their own categories. Prior to this, all lead and supporting acting nominations were pitched together. There you go. Well, I did say it wasn’t going to change your life!

The reason I inflict this snippet of info upon you is because My Man Godfrey was the first film in Oscar history to receive nominations in all four acting categories. Of course, one could argue that it would have been impossible for an earlier film to have beaten it but that would just be facetious. Fact is, it might not have happened for years. That it didn’t win any of them also makes history because it’s the only film to receive these four nominations and not win at least one. And as if that isn’t enough, it’s also the only film to have these four nominations and not have the Best Picture nomination as well. It was nominated for Best Director and Best Writing, Screenplay as well and, not winning anything there either, means it also goes down in history as the only film to be nominated for those six and to lose them all. And they say it’s just the winners that are remembered. Poppycock!

Anyhoo, I forget why this title came to me but, a few days ago, come to me it did and with my mood suited for an early screwball comedy, I thought I’d give it a look and see what all the fuss is about, of which there seems to be plenty.

The film is interesting for a number of reasons, not least because it teamed William Powell and Carole Lombard who had three years previously been husband and wife. Powell had apparently insisted on his ex-wife being his co-star saying that their real life romance had been similar as it was for their characters in the film. They had starred together twice before in 1931, Man of the World (where they met and soon married) and Ladies’ Man.

It’s also interesting because although it’s classed as one of the great screwball comedies, I found it less screwball than a lot of others from the era. Yes, Lombard is completely in the zone as the zany, young, spoiled heiress and Powell plays the straight man against her with aplomb but it’s the movie’s theme that raises it above the multitude and saves it from just being fun but daft. This film is set (and was made) during The Great Depression and as its story unfolds we receive its serious and rational and socially aware message. It turns out that not only is this movie hilarious on the surface both visually and with its sparkling dialogue but it’s rather clever under the skin as well.

The film opens with Godfrey Parke (Powell) living on a city dump alongside other men who are finding life tough. Actually, the film opens with some lovely opening credits, the titles zapping up in gaudy neon signs stretched across a city roofscape as the camera pans right. Back to the dump though and spoiled rich girl Cornelia Bullock (Gail Patrick) climbs out of her limousine and offers him five dollars to be her “forgotten man” at a scavenger hunt. Annoyed that the wealthy find amusement in the plight of the needy and the homeless, Godfrey tells her where to go and in doing so causes her to fall on a pile of ashes. She leaves in a fury with her chaperone much to the delight of her younger sister, Irene (Lombard) whom also wants a “forgotten man”. Godfrey talks to Irene and finds her to be a nicer person than her sister and offers to help her so she can beat her sister.

They arrive at the swanky hotel ballroom where the scavenger hunt is taking place and, after proving to the judges that he is a bonafide homeless man by answering their inane questions, he addresses the crowd and condemns their pointless game. Irene, realising she has hurt his pride, offers him a job as their family butler.

And there, in a nutshell, you have it; the foundation of a wonderful plot.

Godfrey’s first morning, he turns up all suited and booted and is welcomed by the Bullocks’ smart-mouthed, cynical maid, Molly (Jean Dixon). Molly is the only servant who has been able to put up with the bizarre antics of the family, antics which quickly become apparent to Godfrey once he calls on each family member with their breakfast tray. Luckily though, he appears to be a gifted butler and so all the family, especially Irene, who appears to be besotted with him, is glad to have him around. All except Cornelia whom he made fall into the ash pile. She has a grudge that simply won’t be buried.

And so, as the plot thickens, to coin an overused phrase, we learn more about this man Godfrey and we discover, after a friend from his past pops up, that he’s not what we first assumed. The socio-economic hardship of the time also plays its part almost as a character and as such, it’s influence is never far from the screen. Overall, My Man Godfrey is an extremely engaging film but impossibly lighthearted too.

As is so often the case with these classics, the cast is without fault. Gail Patrick as the sister, Alice Brady as the mother and Eugene Pallette as the father are nothing short of wonderful, as is Jean Dixon who plays the maid. Mischa Auer as Mrs Bullock’s sponging and constantly hungry “protege” is ideally cast too. But it’s Powell’s and ultimately Lombard’s show and with Lombard’s life being cut tragically short when she perished in a plane crash in 1942, it leaves one wondering just how much more she might have left for us. Having said that, it makes me want to celebrate all that she did leave for she was, without question, a unique talent.

My Man Godfrey was directed by Gregory La Cava, a former animator for William Randolph Hearst’s newspapers who had begun directing silent comedies in the early ’20s. Although this is arguably his best known work he had a reasonable success the following year with Stage Door, starring Katharine Hepburn and Ginger Rogers.

My Man Godfrey was adapted from the short novel, 1101 Park Avenue, by Eric Hatch and was a huge hit upon release in September 1936. In 1999, it was selected for preservation in the National Film Registry as being “culturally significant” by the United States Library of Congress. It frequently turns up in Top 100 lists as the greatest this or that too and having finally watched it, it’s easy to see why.

For me, it’s simply a flawless gem from Hollywood’s past. Although, I think perhaps I should say, another flawless gem, because as I continue to write these reviews for The Daily Opinion, I continue to discover amazing movies from yesteryear. Some are well-known and respected while others are often overlooked but either way, my joy is in finding them.

Film Review: Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison

Take two of Hollywood’s biggest stars and one of its finest directors, plonk them on a lush tropical island surrounded by rocky outcrops and rolling waves and arm them with an interesting script. What is the likely outcome? A damn fine movie, that’s what. Certainly in this case, it is.

I’m always fascinated by a film with a minimal cast. The actors involved have an even greater weight of responsibility than usual in that there’s no one else for the audience to focus on. On the other hand, there are no other performers to point the finger at if the thing tanks. For the actors, it must be both terrifying and supremely massaging to their egos. “You mean I’m in virtually every shot? Yes! That’s just what my fans will want. Of course I’ve got the talent and the screen presence to pull it off. How dare you suggest otherwise!”

Fortunately, the talent in this 1957 John Huston classic is without question. Robert Mitchum and Deborah Kerr – two gifted actors who apparently clicked immediately and went on to enjoy a lifelong friendship.

Mitchum plays US Marine, Corporal Allison who, after several days adrift in a rubber raft following a skirmish with the Japanese, finds himself washed up on an island in the South Pacific during the Second World War. A quick scout around reveals the island to be abandoned save for Sister Angela, a young nun played by Kerr, who has been there just a few days following a failed attempt to evacuate the priest already there. At first, Allison is relieved to be on the island where there is plenty of fish and fruit to eat and shelter from the tropical weather. He admits its not a bad place to wait out the war. But it isn’t long before a detachment of Japanese return to the island to set up a meteorological camp thereby forcing the Marine and the nun to hide out in a cave up in the surrounding hills.

There’s a wonderfully tense scene some time later when, sympathetic towards Sister Angela’s inability to eat the raw fish that he catches, Allison sneaks into the Japanese camp one night to steal something more palatable for her. It’s a beautifully shot and paced sequence by a master of cinematic storytelling – nothing fancy, nothing over the top, just measured excitement.

Meanwhile, the nights remind them that the war continues as flashes of naval gunfire light up the horizon. Then one day, the Japanese leave the island as quickly as they had come and the two celebrate their unexpected liberty. Allison gets drunk on a bottle of sake left behind by a Japanese officer and foolishly declares his love for Sister Angela as well as denouncing her holy devotion as a waste of time. His natural urges rising to the surface, he can’t see why their “Garden of Paradise” situation doesn’t become fully instinctive – if you know what I mean. Sister Angela runs away from him and spends the night outside in a storm, becoming sick as a result. The following morning, Allison, full of repentance and shame, finds her with a fever at the same time the Japanese return to the island. Once again they are forced to seek refuge in the cave. Allison, feeling completely responsible for Sister Angela’s condition, sneaks into the Japanese camp again to get blankets for her but he has to knife a solider to death when he is discovered. This alerts the detachment to an enemy presence and consequently, they begin a thorough search of the island.

To find out what happens next, I’ll encourage – nay recommend – you to watch the film yourself.

The two leads (and for ninety-five percent of the film you’ll see nobody else) are just perfectly cast and they own their time on screen. Between them, they’ve made many great movies and would go on to make two more together (The Sundowners and The Grass Is Greener – both in 1960). They’ve both given numerous wonderful performances as well over their careers and I don’t think either ever gave a better performance than they did here. Mitchum’s Marine is big and bruising, capable of dishing out death and yet kind and tender too; a simple man but a decent one; a product of a childhood he’d rather forget. Kerr’s nun is slightly naive but more uncertain, devout to her vows – of which the final one she has still to take – and yet teetering on the edge of uncertainty that she’s got what it takes to go all the way. Is she ready to forsake her womanhood for the greater calling? Both characters have chosen their paths and both have sworn oaths to tread them but will the time together on the island make a difference?

As if Mitchum or Kerr weren’t strong enough reasons to give this film a viewing, the director must surely tip the scales. From the moment John Huston sat behind the camera and gave us The Maltese Falcon in 1941, he revealed a certain brilliance and while Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison might not be his finest hour, it’s likely a film that many of his contemporaries would have wanted to helm. It was adapted from Charles Shaw’s novel of the same name by Huston and John Lee Mahin, a prolific screenwriter who penned numerous classics between the 30s and the 60s, among them, Captains Courageous (1937) and Showboat (1951). The island of Trinidad and Tobago where the film was shot was photographed by Oswald Morris, a cinematographer who’s career would span six decades and include a long list of gems like Moby Dick (1956) and The Man Who Would Be King (1975). Naturally, the setting is stunning and one can only imagine the times had by all on location. Deborah Kerr and the writing team of Huston and Mahin were nominated for Academy Awards and there were a handful of other nominations throughout that season but the only win it garnered was for Kerr at the ’57 New York Film Critics Circle Awards. Shame that, because while Mitchum earned a BAFTA nomination, his performance generally seemed to have been overlooked. But then being the kind of guy he was, he probably didn’t give a damn anyway.