Friday, August 28, 2026

NFR Project: 'Jailhouse Rock' (1957)

 

NFR Project: “Jailhouse Rock”

Dir: Richard Thorpe

Scr: Guy Trosper

Pho: Robert J. Bronner

Ed: Ralph E. Winters

Premiere: Nov. 8, 1957

96 min.

I was flabbergasted! Somebody taught Elvis how to act! (Not really.)

Singing star Elvis Presley was only 22 when this film was made; it was his third film and probably his best, which is not saying much. The idea of his going into movies to exploit his spectacular fame was his manager Col. Tom Parker’s. Elvis wanted to win an Oscar for acting, however, his 31 films were largely the same: musical rom-coms that painted the King as a loveable, ambitious young tough guy who rises to fame on the strength of his talent. The same basic story was repeated ad infinitum.

Elvis WAS an amazing singer, well-versed in blues and gospel and translating that soulful energy into his performances. He pretty much invented rockabilly, blending blues and country into a vital new genre of music. He was the first white artist to sing as a Black artist might; the combination of his looks, his divine voice, and his raw power made him a superstar overnight. Women wanted him, men wanted to be him.

Immediately, the powers that be moved to exploit him. He changed from a rebel into an establishment crooner (he is said to have taken as much inspiration from the style of Dean Martin as from Black singers). He made three films a year from 1964 to 1969, glutting the market with his product until he burned out and tried to return to his rock roots, winding up as a garish Las Vegas attraction.

Elvis was our enchanted singer, our Orpheus. And, like Orpheus, he was destroyed by the Maenads of excess and indulgence. His life became the archetype of the story of too much, too soon. His death at the age of 42 was tragic, but avoidable.

But this film shows us the young, unspoiled artist at his peak, a year before he was drafted into the Army. Elvis’ insolent and sullen persona makes him an unlikely protagonist. Here he’s Vince, a construction worker who’s a nice guy. When a man harasses a woman in a bar, Vince beats him to death.

Vince goes to jail for manslaughter. There he meets Hunk (Mickey Shaughnessy), who is basically king of the cellblock. He takes Vince under his wing and teaches him how to play the guitar. When an opportunity comes for a concert to be broadcast on TV from prison (?), Vince makes a huge impression and receives tons of fan mail, which the warden thoughtfully keeps from him.

Vince gets out and begins a dizzyingly rapid rise to fame and fortune, egged on by Peggy (Judy Tyler), a music promoter who believes in him and comes to love him. Vince’s head is turned by his sudden fame and he becomes an arrogant jerk. As a result, Hunk punches him in the throat. His future is endangered for a time, but he recovers his voice, and Peggy, in time for the fadeout.

The entire project is a vehicle for pushing the Elvis myth. He sings a few songs (four of them written by Leiber and Stoller), either gyrating and rocking out as in the title number, or crooning something slower soulfully. In terms of acting, he can barely cross a room competently, much less show any emotion save petulance.

We are flogged into buying the idea of him as an extraordinary person – tough, working-class, but possessed of a heart. This attempt is unsuccessful. The movie Elvis is devoid of humor, friendliness, and charm. Nothing the filmmakers attempt here can overcome his basic unsuitability for film. A depressing entry.

The NFR Project is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: Kiss Me Deadly.

Wednesday, August 26, 2026

NFR Project: 'East of Eden' (1955)

 

NFR Project: “East of Eden”

Dir: Elia Kazan

Scr: Paul Osborn

Pho: Ted D. McCord

Ed: Owen Marks

Premiere: March 9, 1955

117 min.

An interesting choice. This prestige picture is adapted from the final fourth of John Steinbeck’s 1952 novel of the same name. It takes place in the run-up to World War I in the sleepy farming town of Salinas, California (where Steinbeck grew up). There, two brothers, Caleb (James Dean) and Aron (Richard Davalos) vie for the approval of their father, rancher and farmer Adam (Raymond Massey).

Aron is well-behaved and focused; Caleb is rowdy and inclined to make poor choices. Adam, a strict and virtuous man, prefers Aron to Caleb (mirroring the Bible story of Cain and Abel). Caleb, or Cal, finds out that his mother, Kate (Jo van Fleet) who he was told by Adam was dead, is really a high-powered madam in the nearby town of Monterey. He confronts her, and she declares that he is like her.

He borrows $5,000 from her to grow and corner the market on beans, which are needed for the war effort. Meanwhile, he and his brother's girlfriend Abra (Julie Harris) grow close. Although he is the wild and undisciplined brother, Cal yearns to do right. He takes the money he makes from the bean venture and presents it to his father, who rejects it.

Angrily, Cal grabs his brother and takes him to see Kate. The revelation that his mother is alive and a prostitute undoes Aron, who impulsively joins the army and leaves town. Adam has a stroke. Cal considers leaving, but stays to tend to his father.

Elia Kazan directed effectively if not flashily; the script is adequate. The performances are competent; Dean earned a posthumous Oscar nomination for his performance and Jo van Fleet won for her portrayal of Kate. Despite its reputation, the film is interesting without being compelling. Dean was an interesting actor, but he still had a lot to learn when he died prematurely in an accident at age 24.

The NFR Project is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: Jailhouse Rock.

Monday, August 24, 2026

NFR Project: 'All That Heaven Allows' (1955)


NFR Project: “All That Heaven Allows”

Dir: Douglas Sirk

Scr: Peg Fenwick

Pho: Russell Metty

Ed: Frank Gross

Premiere: Dec. 25, 1955

89 min.

Douglas Sirk (1897-1907) was a subversive. He was a pacifist who was harassed for his beliefs during World War I. He fled Germany with his Jewish wife in 1937. In Hollywood, he continued the directing career he had begun in Germany, specializing in the making of “women’s pictures.” He used these emotional melodramas as vehicles for his own anti-Establishment thinking.

Nowhere is this more obvious than in All That Heaven Allows, which features a female protagonist lost in and subject to a male- and affluence-dominated society. She is Cary Scott (Jane Wyman, age 38), a well-off and relatively young widow with two grown children. She has centered her life around their weekend visits.

In the film’s beginning, she finally returns to society in a red dress (which her children don’t think is appropriate) via a dance at the local country club. There, two different men hit on her, swooping down on her confused self, seeking to “claim” her off the singles market. She rejects their overtures.

She incidentally meets young Ron Kirby (Rock Hudson, age 29), a gardener who has trimmed her trees for the past three years, spring and fall. A spark ignites between them, and soon Ron proposes to her. She accepts – but then quickly finds out that a) everyone in town is gossiping about her seemingly inappropriate relationship with a younger and poorer man and b) her children declare that they will disown her if she goes through with it. Most of all, the two seem outraged that she would leave their ancestral home and go live with Ron in a converted millhouse. Succumbing to societal and family pressure, she breaks up with Ron.

Then, that Christmas, her children gleefully tell her they are leaving home, due to impending marriage and work. They buy her a TV to distract her from her now-empty life. They suggest she sell the house after all. Realizing that her children are insensitive monsters, Cary flees back to Ron’s side. He has been injured in a fall, so she takes up a seat beside him. Slowly, he comes to consciousness. “Cary, you’ve come home,” he says. “Yes,” she replies, “I’m home.”

That Ron is a fan of Thoreau is an important plot point. The anti-materialism that Thoreau championed finds a living practitioner in Ron. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him or Cary. He is jolly, handy, handsome, loving, wise – everything a gal could wish for. It is a testament to the coercive powers of society that Cary denies herself for as long as she does of the life she truly wants to live.

Sirk uses a rich color palette, and production-designs his projects to a T. His worlds are very detailed, almost claustrophobic. Multiple surfaces gleam and reflect the characters, until the last stunning image of Cary trapped within the reflection of her new TV set's inert screen. The camera opens up only when freethinkers such as Ron enter the scene.

Cary finds redemption (Ron was originally supposed to die!) and happiness with her perfect man. Neighbors be damned.

The NFR Project is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: East of Eden.