Category: Entertainment

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.

 

Book Review: Brian Westby by Forrest Reid

It’s a good job Forrest Reid didn’t write to be famous. Almost seventy years after his death, his novels gather dust in libraries: unthumbed and unadmired. Highly thought of by friends like E.M. Forster and Walter de la Mare during his lifetime, the Ulster writer has since fallen into obscurity. Until now, that is.

Few of his works are more poignant than his 1934 novel, Brian Westby, which was republished by Valancourt Books at the end of last year. Despite Reid’s best protestations that “[a]ll the characters and incidents in this novel are imaginary”, it’s hard to avoid its semi-autobiographical resonances.

Modelled on the relationship Reid fostered with his young protégé Stephen Gilbert, Brian Westby records the chance encounter between novelist Martin Linton and the son his ex-wife has successfully hidden from him for the best part of two decades. So pervasive was Gilbert’s influence that Reid gave him the final say on what was ultimately included in the work: “Remember,” he goes so far as to write in a letter, “if you don’t like the thing I won’t go on with it.” Fortunately for us, he did.

Linton arrives at Ballycastle to recover from illness, and a creative malaise that has left him lacklustre and depressed. “Happiness is only made by affection”, he says, having realised only too late that “[n]othing else in the long run matters.” But on a seaside stroll, he runs into Brian, a teenager who happens to be reading the very first novel Linton wrote. The pair are involuntarily drawn to one another–Reid’s “technical trick” of alternating perspectives proves an ingenious way of exploring their shared fondness.

As strong and tender as their attachment may be, father and son remain tragically unaware of their true relationship. Meanwhile, Linton helps the youngster to hone his literary talents: “Art isn’t just life in the raw”, he tells the boy, expounding the virtues of imaginative integrity, “it is a selection from life: it is a vision:–life seen through a temperament, as Zola said.” The novelist’s inspiration is refreshed as Brian’s affection is cultivated.

Soon enough, though, reality bites. After Brian reveals that his real surname is Linton, not Westby, his mentor recognises a new obstacle: the boy’s mother, Stella, who considers her ex-husband to be a pernicious influence. When she discovers the identity of the stranger Brian has been seeing so frequently, she demands that Linton cut off all contact with the boy. In the novel’s touching final movements, Brian must take sides and learn to live with the consequences.

Youth is Forrest Reid’s particular concern, and his appeal is therefore limited–landscapes and dreamscapes feature regularly in his prose, and the natural world is one in which he thrives. Indeed, most of his sixteen novels wrestle with a single vision, a vision of “a country whose image was stamped upon our soul before we opened our eyes on earth.”

Early in Reid’s career, Forster correctly explained that his friend’s work concentrated on “a point which, when rightly focussed, may perhaps make all the surrounding landscape intelligible.” To strive after a vision such as his, is–as Reid wrote of W.B. Yeats–to throw one’s net among the stars. Brian Westby is one of the handfuls of stardust he was able to catch on the way down.

Film Review: Detective Story

I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again – I truly love it when I stumble across an old movie I’ve never seen before that blows my socks off. A few days ago, this 1951 Kirk Douglas crime drama did just that. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Detective Story is based on the stage play of the same name by 1934 Pulitzer Prize for Drama winner Sidney Kingsley and it’s directed by Roman Holiday and Ben-Hur legend, William Wyler.

By virtue of the story originally written for the stage, it’s a character study and in this case the character, or rather characters, are a squad room full of plain-clothed detectives at the 21st Precinct in New York City. The action takes place over the course of a working day and apart from a brief foray into the streets of the city, we remain confined within said squad room. We see the various detectives attending to their tasks – mundane police procedures included – as well as the various criminal elements that they apprehend that day. It’s all very gritty. But don’t misinterpret that as heavy going and oppressive, for it isn’t. Certainly not at the outset anyway. Yes, the tension builds to a dramatic climax, one that will take your breath away, but along the way there’s subtle humour and questions of morality too.

The main thrust of the plot involves, naturally enough, Kirk Douglas’s character – Detective James McLeod – and his wife Mary (Eleanor Parker) who just so happens to have a skeleton in her closet. McLeod is a tough, no-nonsense cop who sees the world he inhabits as black and white. You break the law, you pay the price. No leniency whatsoever. His current focus is on bringing down disgraced doctor Karl Schneider (George Macready) for having performed abortions on several women which subsequently lead to their deaths however, the more McLeod pursues the closer he gets to a truth that will turn his world upside down.

For the most part, this movie is a filmed stage play and as such there’s a degree of claustrophobia present in its viewing, perhaps even more so than if you were sitting in your theatre seat before the stage. Obviously, this sense of confinement is intentional because the film actually benefits from it. We are in a living, breathing squad room after all, and around us are all the individuals you’d expect to find there. Even when Lee Garmes’s camera lens pulls tight onto action in the foreground, the squad room’s heart still beats in the out-of-focus background. The company of actors, those playing the detectives and the criminals at least, are rarely off the set. It gives the whole thing an organic feel.

The acting – leads and support – is all round solid too. Douglas gives a towering performance as the cop who’s too unforgiving for his own good although oddly enough when it came to Oscar time, he was overlooked. Eleanor Parker got nominated, as did Lee Grant (in her big screen debut, no less) who plays a young shoplifter. There were also nominations for Best Director and Best Writing in the Screenplay category. Like Lee Grant, Joseph Wiseman, who plays a slightly unhinged burglar called Charley Gennini, was also performing for the first time in front of a movie camera. Wiseman would later go on to cinema immortality playing Dr. No, the first bad guy in a popular spy franchise. His performance here couldn’t be more different.

Like all good dramas, it’ll imprint traces of itself in your mind and you’ll be thinking about it long after the music has flourished and the credits have rolled.

 

 

The Blues Blows In From Jersey Shore

If you like blues and jazz played by excellent musicians and spiced up by straight-talking (sometimes raunchy) lyrics, you’ll enjoy The Danny Petroni Blue Project (featuring artist Frank Lacy) by The Blue Project (released 11th January, 2014) This is late night music – the kind that used to be heard in smoke-filled rooms.

Petroni plays guitar in the band and all tracks are written by him. All the musicians and singers involved on this debut album, which include Frank Lacy on lead vocals, trombone and flumpet, bring something to the party. With the likes of Louis Jordan and Joe Turner sitting on Petroni’s shoulders, he explores different shades of the blues tradition. The guitar plucks at your heartstrings; the horns make you shuffle your feet. By the way, ‘flumpet’ isn’t a typo! I looked it up and, apparently, it’s a hybrid instrument which merges the trumpet and the flugelhorn.

Traditional blues kicks off the album, with I Changed My Ways, a slow song with vocals from Frank Lacy and Jo Wymer plus fabulous blues guitar and swampy violin. As well as terrific vocals from Frank Lacy throughout, which reverberate from years of experience, he gives us fine musical moments such as the trombone solo on Mouse in the House. Danny Petroni’s guitar playing is also assured, no matter what style he’s playing in. Cracker Jack and Diminishing Returns are the two instrumentals present, the former with jazz horns and country/ rock-tinged guitar and the latter featuring a mellow Petroni on a Fender Strat.

God of War is a hard-hitting anti-war protest and the most rock influenced track on the album. Requiem for the Working Man, probably my favourite contribution, begins with a wonderfully mournful upright bass intro. This song is about those on minimal wage struggling to get by, with simple lyrics which eloquently describe their plight. As for the track, Peanut Butter & Jelly, I can’t help thinking that “peanut butter and jelly” may be a euphemism for something…..

Danny Petroni’s motivation for forming this band from fellow Jersey Shore musicians was in the wake of Hurricane Sandy in 2012 when the aftermath saw the local music scene all but stop. This record is their phoenix rising from the ashes, so to speak.

There’s purity in this music, which shows a modern audience that you don’t need studio tricks and endless layers of production; you just need a soul.


Streaming link: http://theblueproject.bandcamp.com/   

 

 

Film Review: Paris When It Sizzles

You every get that feeling when all you want to do is to sit down in front of the TV and watch something that doesn’t require too much effort? Something that doesn’t ask too much of your concentration? Maybe you’ve been on your feet all day toiling and sweating and you’re physically exhausted or maybe you’ve got too much on your plate and it’s hard to focus on any one thing and all you wish is for something to take your mind of it for a little while. Either way, sometimes losing yourself in a slice of good-looking, light-hearted silliness can be just the ticket. Paris When It Sizzles is just such a slice of good-looking, light-hearted silliness.

It’s a 1964 romantic comedy and it stars William Holden and Audrey Hepburn who ten years earlier had set tongues wagging by having a brief romance of their own while making the film Sabrina. Holden was married at the time, after all. However, this most delicate bloom of an actress decided to end the relationship either on account that her lover was plagued with alcoholism or that he’d undergone a vasectomy and couldn’t have children. Or both. Years later Holden apparently still carried a torch for her so one can imagine their feelings when Paramount Studios insisted on them making the film together. Fortunately for us, if there was any awkwardness between the stars, it didn’t translate to the screen.

The plot revolves around Holden’s playboy screenwriter Richard Benson (he played another screenwriter in Sunset Boulevard 1950) who hires Hepburn’s secretary Gabrielle Simpson to stay with him in his hotel room over Bastille weekend in order to type up the screenplay that he has promised to his boss, Alexander Myerheim (Noel Coward). Trouble is, even though he’s already been paid for it, he hasn’t got a clue what he’s going to write and the several possibilities he comes up with stink. But he is soon inspired by the lovely Gabrielle and comes up with the title, The Girl Who Stole the Eiffel Tower. The rest of the film flits between their growing relationship in the hotel room and the imagined film playing out as Benson narrates. The end result is of course, utterly predictable but the journey is a lot of fun and it involves inept police and international spies. It also takes a few hilarious potshots at the movie business and there are several noteworthy cameos too, particularly from an uncredited Tony Curtis.

I laughed loudest at Curtis’s antics (his comedic ability has always appealed to me – see Some Like It Hot, The Persuaders etc) particularly towards the end when he shares the screen with Holden but the truth is, while the film has some incredibly silly moments, the entire cast manages to carry the absurdity of the story in an almost pantomime-like style and for me, this ensures there are laughs to be had all the way. There are a couple of marvellous cameos too (don’t we just love cameos?), one if which is the voice of one of the greatest singers the world has ever known. Check it out. I guarantee you’ll laugh – or at the very least giggle.

The film was directed by Richard Quine whose other credits include Bell Book and Candle (1958) and How to Murder Your Wife (1965). George Axelrod, – he of The Seven Year Itch (1952) fame – adapted the screenplay from an earlier French film called Holiday for Henrietta (1952). The music is from Nelson Riddle – composer, bandleader, arranger – who worked with some of the greatest singing talents ever and the exterior shots of Paris, which make you just want to go there, come courtesy of cinematographer Charles Lang, whose credits include A Farewell to Arms (1932), Some Like It Hot (1959) and The Magnificent Seven (1960). Whether it’s a bright sunny day or a neon-lit night shot, seeing Paris on film always makes me want to jump on Eurostar.

While it might not have a place in the pantheon of romantic comedies like say, Hepburn’s Roman Holiday (1953) or Jack Lemmon’s The Apartment (1960), it is worth a look. It teems with that glamorous ’60s European chic and there are some great lines from some of Hollywood’s greatest stars. And besides, you didn’t want to be  entertained too much anyway.

 

Monks of Mellonwah Are Becoming Addictive

Take a great big cooking pot; put in some experimental Incubus, a pinch of epic theatricality from Muse, and spice it up with Red Hot Chili Peppers. Leave to simmer under the baking Australian sun and what do you get? Monks of Mellonwah have this stew coursing through their veins but still manage to be original.

This alt-rock/indie band from Sydney (Vikram Kaushik – vocals, Joe de la Hoyde – backing vocals/guitar, John de la Hoyde – bass and Josh Baissari – drums) has been together since October, 2009, and they are as tight as the proverbial drum. They’re going from strength to strength having gained lots of airplay and have also developed a fan base from their national and international tours. Plans for 2014 tours in America and Europe will promote their latest offering, which is their debut full-length album, Turn the People. A&R Worldwide signed the band, and they can certainly hold their own with the likes of stable mates, Muse and Coldplay.

Turn the People has actually been part released, teasing and drip- feeding fans with tantalising selections. Volume 1, released in June, 2013, is titled Ghost Stories. This was followed up in October, 2013 with the second volume, titled Afraid to Die. Volume 3, with the title, Pulse is scheduled for release in March, 2014, along with the album in its entirety. Having already heard (and reviewed) Volume 2 – Afraid to Die – I’m familiar with the four songs on that EP that appear on the new release, namely title track Afraid to Die, Downfall, Alive For a Minute and I Belong to You. My earlier review of the first three tracks reflected my great enthusiasm for the music but inability to connect to the lyrics. However, the powerful ballad, I Belong to You blows me away, always threatening to make me cry.

As for the remaining tracks on this new album, the opener, Ghost Stories – Intro is 57 seconds of a strange, otherworldly instrumental. This is followed by Ghost Stories, an epic drama with inventive, unnerving and menacing lyrics. You can feel the kick of Kiedis and Co. on the aggressive rock of Vanity and the gentler Pulse, which also has some gorgeous harmonising.  Tear Your Hate Apart has exceptional vocals and dark lyrics.

A frenetic outpouring puts you within those “hallowed walls” in Escaping Alcatraz. Sailing Stones rocks along, with a surprising Arabian Nights-like instrumental break.  The track, Turn the People has great imagery and ends with soaring guitars.  Sky And The Dark Night – Part 2 – Control, as the title implies, is part two of an earlier release – more great imagery and guitar virtuosity.

Superb production, arrangements and musicianship are in evidence throughout. Lyrically, the simpler and more direct ones work better for me. When they rock, they rock hard; when they go the electronic route – it’s inventive, and vocalist, Vikram Kaushik has the emotional weight to take you with him to some sublime places. The cover art indicates this is going to be experimental and outside the norm, but what I like about this band is you never know what’s coming next.

Turn the People is an emotional rollercoaster – the kind of album where you’ll hear something new with each play. This band is really getting under my skin.

Soundcloud (https://soundcloud.com/monksofmellonwah/sets/turn-the-people)