NFR Project: 'The Hunters' (1957)

NFR Project: “The Hunters”

Dir: John Marshall, Robert Gardner

Scr: John Marshall

Pho: John Marshall

Ed: John Marshall

Narrated by John Marshall

Premiere: 1957

72 min.

This exemplary documentary doesn’t condescend. It doesn’t preach or make generalizations. It is simply a faithful, unrelentingly visceral account of one group of people living by their wits in the most primitive of conditions.

John Marshall was an anthropologist and documentary filmmaker who imbedded himself with the !Kung tribe in Namibia, on the fringe of the Kalahari Desert (the so-called Bushmen). He learned their language, got to know them individuals, earned their trust. He wandered as they wandered, living in the wild and scraping by on roots, berries, and the occasional influx of fresh meat.

This documentary could have been Disneyfied – made humorous and palatable. Or, it could have been pretentious and haughty. Marshall goes neither route. He respects his subjects, and presents their extraordinary lives in a very ordinary way. His narration is simple, straightforward, and descriptive. He does not project his own concepts onto his subjects. The result is a valuable portrait of people still living close to prehistory.

These are the seeming last of the hunter-gatherers. The women gather food, providing about 80% of the group’s diet. The men are fated to provide the remaining 20% in the form of protein, meat. Their lives revolve around catching and eating prey. They use sophisticated poisoned arrows; they are expert trackers and strategists.

The film opens by outlining the structure and routine of the group. Then four men set out together, determined to bring down some game. They hunt diligently, and finally they wound a giraffe. The animal runs from them, and they spend five days chasing her. The giraffe, exhausted, falls to the onslaught of their spears. They skin and butcher the animal, and recruit help from the base camp to being the bounty back to the tribe. They have nine more days of food.

Marshall delineates the characters of the men he studies. He illustrates character through action. Interestingly, when the men return, after the distribution of the meat, the travelers regale the group with the story of the hunt, with all its vicissitudes and trials. Sharing valuable survival information in the form of a story displays an innate desire of humans to tell their stories – whether around a campfire or on a movie screen.

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

NFR Project: 'Glimpse of the Garden' (1957)

NFR Project: “Glimpse of the Garden”

Dir: Marie Menken

Premiere: 1957

5 min.

Marie Menken (1909-1970) was an experimental artist, a kinetic painter, and a pioneer of making cinema out of something as simple as a handheld camera. Not only handheld, but hand-cranked – a 16-millimeter Bolex.

Already established as a painter, she picked up a camera and began messing around with it in the mid-1940s. She produced Visual Variations on Noguchi in 1945; she would make 18 films all told through 1968. She taught Andy Warhol how to use a handheld camera. Stan Brakhage was inspired by her work.

Glimpse of the Garden is just a poetic meditation on the subject of the film. Purposely crude in technique, accompanied acoustically only by birdsong, the camera sweeps, pans, and runs alongside a field of varied flowers. In closeup, petals and stems glisten with rain. The film races, swoops, pauses, examines, and runs on. The film’s clarity is not strong; there are under- and over-exposed pieces, a rough hand-hewed feel. But in a scant five minutes, Menken delivers the evocation of a certain place on a certain day.

The film has no agenda. Its blunt simplicity celebrates the flowering world. It’s Whitmanesque. It preserves some sunny and quiet moments forever. Maybe that’s enough.

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

In praise of Peter Medak

 

Film director Peter Medak has passed away. Little-known today, he managed to direct 27 feature films between 1968 and 2018, along with numerous television projects, including The Wire and Breaking Bad, and many documentaries as well.

I believe he deserves a critical examination. He plainly loved film, and had daring. He directed a film that could not be made today, The Ruling Class (1972), a black comedy in which Peter O'Toole plays an English nobleman who thinks he is Jesus Christ. Later, he directed Zorro, the Gay Blade (1981), but there's no accounting for taste.

He directed one of the most effective of horror films, The Changeling (1980). He later specialized in crime dramas, creating the excellent The Krays (1990), Let Him Have It (1991), and Romeo Is Bleeding (1993). He got to do adaptations of The Hunchback of Notre Dame and David Copperfield. Not too shabby!

Born in Budapest in 1937, Medak survived World War II and escaped West from Hungary during its 1956 Uprising. He worked his way in the industry from the bottom up. He was a magpie; he could seemingly tackle any genre thrown at him with grace and skill. He is worth a closer look.

NFR Project: 'A Face in the Crowd' (1957)

NFR Project: “A Face in the Crowd”

Dir: Elia Kazan

Scr: Budd Schulberg

Pho: Gayne Rescher, Harry Stradling

Ed: Gene Milford

Premiere: May 28, 1957

125 min.

The relation of fascism to capitalism has never been so distinctly illuminated as in this film. The combination of a charismatic, ruthless would-be cultural figurehead and the entrepreneurial, martial, and political systems that use him for their own ends results in a scenario frightfully akin to our present national circumstances. It’s a terrifying film.

Kazan, of whom we have written before, is one of American cinema’s flawed geniuses. A Red Scare informer, he defended his position adamantly throughout his career, even as many despised him.

Here he nails Budd Schulberg’s brilliant script, largely due to the amazing performance of film neophyte, standup comedian Andy Griffith, who had recently starred in Ira Levin’s No Time for Sergeants, first on TV and then on Broadway. His embodiment of a villainous character could not be more compelling.

It seems a tragedy that he didn’t reel off any similar film projects – later becoming the familiar Sheriff Taylor in TV’s long-running The Andy Griffith Show. Here he plays Larry “Lonesome” Rhodes, a no-good drunken bum with a talent for recycling corny down-home sentiments with a big, fake grin. He draws the attention of radio journalist Marcia (Patricia Neal, never lovelier or more capable as an actress) in the county jail, where he sings some songs and tells some jokes.

 Everyone loves him, and soon he has a spot on the radio station, which grows and swells into fantastic career opportunities. He soon becomes a regional TV star, then a national figure. A raging egomaniac, he wreaks havoc as he rushes blindly forward, accumulating wealth and a fearful respect seemingly overnight. Marcia loves him, but he resolutely indulges in wine, women, and song.

Eventually he marries a 17-year-old (Lee Remick in her first film role) and plans on dispensing his supposed wisdom on political issues in a new nationally broadcast TV show that highlights his musings around a cracker barrel, surrounded by stooges. Marcia finally has enough; she throws open a studio microphone during the end credits of the show, capturing Rhodes as he calls his viewers “idiots” and “sheep.”

Now, in this case, the public rejects him immediately. He loses his show, his influence,, his money, his respect, again overnight. Distraught, he threatens suicide. Marcia’s forlorn suitor Mel (a top-notch Walter Matthau) tells him that he won’t kill himself; he’ll go out of the spotlight for a while but will return in some lower-grade productions. Mel and Marcia walk out.

It’s a corrosive fable that doesn’t fail to lacerate all the players in the drama – the sponsors, the generals, the politicians. Everybody here is out to make a profit – and by attaching themselves to Rhodes’ rising star, they succeed admirably. All is forgiven to those who earn high ratings. The corruption of the system is spelled out plainly. And Griffith makes for a memorable monster.

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

NFR Project: 'Edge of the City' (1957)

NFR Project: “Edge of the City”

Dir: Martin Ritt

Scr: Robert Alan Aurthur

Pho: Joseph Brun

Ed: Sidney Meyers

Premiere: Jan. 29, 1957

82 min.

This film is another classic New York movie. Made on location, it’s a gritty urban drama that preaches racial tolerance, and the courage to stand up for justice despite its possible negative outcome. The lessons that Italian neo-realism taught are on display here.

It’s the first feature film of director Martin Ritt, who had been a prominent TV director until he was blacklisted in 1952. Taking five years off to teach acting, Ritt finally got his chance to direct again with this film. It’s based on a 1955 teleplay by Robert Alan Aurthur.

In it, a young John Cassavetes, using the false name of Alex North, gets a job as a longshoreman on the city docks. He is on the run, being a deserter from the Army. A work gang leader, Charlie (Jack Warden) recommends him for a job but demands a kickback from Axel’s paycheck. Alex is soon befriended by Sidney Poitier’s character Tommy, another gang leader who takes him under his wing.

Tommy is a ray of sunshine – wise, upbeat, and honorable. He doesn’t care about Axel’s past and draws the insecure young man out. However, Charlie has it out for Alex, and when he finds out his secret, he ups the take he is getting from him, as well as bullying him unmercifully. Tommy steps in to deflect Charlie’s anger, which provokes a fight with cargo hooks between the two. Charlie murders Tommy.

No one at the work site will testify as to what really happened. Tommy’s bereaved widow excoriates Axel for knowing the truth, but being unwilling to go to the police about it. Axel then marches to the job site, tells Charlie he’s turning him in, and then battles him on the dock, eventually beating him and dragging him to the police.

It’s a simple story. The real star of the show is Poitier, who portrays an almost saintly character. The depiction of a black/white friendship was unheard of at the time, and this was lauded by activist organizations. It was not so long ago that Black characters were portrayed as feeble stereotypes. Poitier was the Jackie Robinson of the motion-picture industry; he played exemplary roles and integrated the screen. It’s also good to see Cassavetes in an early role. A fine little tale.

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

NFR Project: 'The Bridge on the River Kwai' (1957)

NFR Project: “The Bridge on the River Kwai”

Dir: David Lean

Scr: Carl Foreman, Michael Wilson

Pho: Jack Hildyard

Ed: Peter Taylor

Premiere: Dec. 14, 1957

161 min.

This is the first of director David Lean’s big-budget, epic film masterpieces. Prior to this, Lean was known for his collaborations with Noel Coward, and for his Dickens adaptations. His incredible visual sense is borne out in all his films, but his last five would cement his reputation as a master filmmaker.

Each epic is set in a different environment – this film, the jungle; Lawrence of Arabia, the desert; Doctor Zhivago, a snowscape; Ryan’s Daughter, the edge of the sea; A Passage to India the landscape again. In each he asks probing moral questions. What is identity? What is integrity? How does the heart cross paths with the mind?

Here, he takes up, in Technicolor and CinemaScope, the plight of British prisoners of war in World War II. The script was written by two blacklisted screenwriters, Carl Foreman and Michael Wilson. The Oscar for Best Screenplay was given, not to them, but to the author of the novel, Pierre Boulle. In fact, the film won seven Oscars, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor for Guinness, Best Cinematography, Best Editing, and Best Score.

Under the guns of their Japanese captors, the soldiers are forced to help build a railway – one known as the Death Railway -- between Bangkok and Rangoon. In particular, they must build a bridge across the river Kwai. Into the prison camp marches Col. Nicholson (Alec Guinness) and his men. The Japanese commanding officer, Col. Saito (Sesue Hayakawa), orders the officers to work on the bridge beside their men. Nicholson refuses, as it is against the rules of battle, the Geneva Convention.

Saito strikes him and orders him and his officers to sweat it out in “ovens,” corrugated tin boxes exposed to the brutal jungle sun. Days go by, and Nicholson refuses to give in. Finally, Saito, facing an ominous deadline to get his bridge built, acquiesces. Nicholson recovers – or does he? Soon he has conceived of a plan to take over the construction of the bridge, claiming that his men could do a much better job than their captors, seeing it as a morale-building exercise. The cautiously friendly doctor (James Donald) asks whether this behavior is treasonous, but he is scoffed at.

Meanwhile, an American sailor pretending to be an officer (William Holden) escapes the camp and makes it to safety – only to be found out and ordered to go on a mission back to the Kwai, to destroy the bridge.

The intersection of the fates entangling Guinness, Hayakawa, and Holden are fascinating. How comfortably can a man live with delusion? What does a code of honor imply? Once Nicholson is given command of the bridge, he persuades the officers to work alongside the men, and even recruits the men in hospital to help out. His consuming passion is the completion of the bridge, and against all true logic his deranged logic drives him and his men onward.

The conclusion is spectacular, and equivocal. The last words in the film are aptly uttered by the good doctor – “Madness! Madness!”

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

Just for Halloween: The 100 (OK, 113) Greatest Horror Films

 

OK, I finally did it! I forced myself to identify the strongest 10 horror films from each decade, then listed them all in chronological order. You will find some favorites. You will scratch your head at some of the choices. You will miss some that you think should be on there. I did my best, and left a lot of my personal favorites off the list. Trust me, if you watch all these, you will be a movie horror expert.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (Robert Wiene, 1920)

The Golem: How He Came into the World (Paul Wegener, 1920)

Destiny (Fritz Lang, 1921)

Haxan: Witchcraft through the Ages (Benjamin Christesen, 1922)

Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror (F.W. Murnau, 1922)

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Wallace Worsley, 1923)

Waxworks (Paul Leni, 1924)

The Phantom of the Opera (Rupert Julian, 1925)

The Cat and the Canary (Paul Leni, 1927)

The Unknown (Tod Browning, 1927)

Dracula (Tod Browning, 1931)

Frankenstein (James Whale, 1931)

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (Rouben Mamoulian, 1931)

M (Fritz Lang, 1931)

The Mummy (Karl Freund, 1932)

Island of Lost Souls (Erle C. Kenton, 1932)

Freaks (Tod Browning, 1932)

The Invisible Man (James Whale, 1933)

King Kong (Merian C. Cooper and Ernest B. Schoedsack, 1933)

Bride of Frankenstein (James Whale, 1935)

Mad Love (Karl Freund, 1935)

The Wolf Man (George Waggner, 1941)

Cat People (Jacques Tourneur, 1942)

I Walked with a Zombie (Jacques Tourneur, 1943)

The Seventh Victim (Mark Robson, 1943)

The Body Snatcher (Robert Wise, 1945)

Dead of Night (Alberto Cavalcanti, Charles Crichton, Robert Hamer, Basil Dearden, 1945)

Hangover Square (John Brahm, 1945)

Isle of the Dead (Mark Robson, 1945)

The Picture of Dorian Gray (Albert Lewin, 1945)

Bedlam (Mark Robson, 1946)

The Thing (from Another World) (Christian Nyby, 1951)

It Came from Outer Space (Jack Arnold, 1951)

Creature from the Black Lagoon (Jack Arnold, 1954)

Godzilla (Ishiro Honda, 1954)

Them! (Gordon Douglas, 1954)

Night of the Hunter (Charles Laughton, 1955)

Invasion of the Body Snatchers (Don Siegel, 1956)

The Curse of Frankenstein (Terence Fisher, 1957)

The Incredible Shrinking Man (Jack Arnold, 1957)

(The Horror of) Dracula (Terence Fisher, 1958)

House of Usher (Roger Corman, 1960)

Jigoku (Nobuo Nakagawa, 1960)

Peeping Tom (Michael Powell, 1960)

Psycho (Alfred Hitchcock, 1960)

The Innocents (Jack Clayon, 1961)

What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (Robert Aldrich, 1962)

Planet of the Vampires (Mario Bava, 1965)

Kill, Baby . . . Kill! (Mario Bava, 1966)

Night of the Living Dead (George A. Romero, 1968)

Rosemary’s Baby (Roman Polanski, 1968)

The Devils (Ken Russell, 1971)

The Exorcist (William Friedkin, 1973)

The Wicker Man (Robin Hardy, 1973)

It’s Alive (Larry Cohen, 1974)

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (Tobe Hooper, 1974)

Deep Red (Dario Argento, 1975)

Carrie (Brian De Palma, 1976)

Suspiria (Dario Argento, 1977)

Eraserhead (David Lynch, 1977)

Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978)

Alien (Ridley Scott, 1979)

Friday the 13^th (Sean S. Cunningham, 1980)

The Shining (Stanley Kubrick, 1980)

The Howling (Joe Dante, 1981)

Possession (Andrzej Zulawski, 1981)

The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982)

Videodrome (David Cronenberg, 1983)

A Nightmare on Elm Street (Wes Craven, 1984)

Aliens (James Cameron, 1986)

Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn (Sam Raimi, 1987)

Near Dark (Kathyrn Bigelow, 1987)

They Live (John Carpenter, 1988)

It (Tommy Lee Wallace, 1990)

Misery (Rob Reiner, 1990)

The People Under the Stairs (Wes Craven, 1991)

The Silence of the Lambs (Jonathan Demme, 1991)

Candyman (Bernard Rose, 1992)

In the Mouth of Madness (John Carpenter, 1994)

Scream (Wes Craven, 1996)

Cure (Kiyoshi Kurosawa, 1997)

Funny Games (Michael Haneke, 1997)

I Stand Alone (Gaspar Noe, 1998)

American Psycho (Mary Harron, 2000)

Battle Royale (Kinji Fukasaku, 2000)

The Cell (Tarsem Singh, 2000)

Audition (Takashi Miike, 2001)

The Others (Alejandro Amenabar, 2001)

28 Days Later . . . (Danny Boyle, 2002)

May (Lucky McKee, 2002)

Shaun of the Dead (Edgar Wright, 2004)

The Host (Bong Joon Ho, 2006)

Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro, 2006)

I Saw the Devil (Kim Jee-won, 2010)

John Dies at the End (Don Coscarelli, 2012)

We Are What We Are (Jim Mickle, 2013)

What We Do in the Shadows (Jemaine Clement, Taika Waititi, 2014)

The Babadook (Jennifer Kent, 2014)

Crimson Peak (Guillermo del Toro, 2015)

Green Room (Jeremy Saulnier, 2015)

Raw (Julia Ducournau, 2016)

Get Out (Jordan Peele, 2017)

It Comes at Night (Trey Edward Shults, 2017)

The Shape of Water (Guillermo del Toro, 2017)

Hereditary (Ari Aster, 2018)

Midsommar (Ari Aster, 2019)

M3GAN (Gerard Johnstone, 2022)

Pearl (Ti West, 2022)

Late Night with the Devil (Colin and Cameron Cairnes, 2023)

The Substance (Coralie Fargeat, 2024)

Frankenstein (Guillermo del Toro, 2025)

Weapons (Zach Cregger, 2025)

Obsession (Curry Barker, 2026)

 

NFR Project: '12 Angry Men' (1957)

 

NFR Project: “12 Angry Men”

Dir: Sidney Lumet

Scr: Reginald Rose

Pho: Boris Kaufman

Ed: Carl Lerner

Premiere: April 10, 1957

96 min.

Question: how do you make a dynamic film out of a bunch of talking heads?

This was the problem set out for first-time feature film director Sidney Lumet. His ingenious solution to this problem enlivens 12 Angry Men, a film that takes place almost entirely in a small, crowded New York courthouse room where jurors debate the guilt or innocence of a teenager accused of murder.

Lumet had already earned a reputation as a top-notch director of actors in his work for television prior to this assignment. He was a classic East Coast artist, a New Yorker who, as his career developed, painted many pictures of the city on film. Here he takes a dozen excellent actors and puts them through their paces, creating an absorbing drama about the judicial system and the frailties of human perception and decision-making.

The drama was originally written for television, appearing on Studio One on Sept. 20, 1954. The writer, Reginald Rose, was inspired by his own jury duty. Back in the early days of television, everything was done live, much as in a stage play. Adept and sensitive direction was needed to pull off this difficult creative feat – and another future film director, Franklin J. Schaffner, was at the helm for the broadcast.

When the film opens, we are briefly shown the face of the young defendant, tense and aggrieved. We quickly move to the jury room, into which our players file. Eleven jurors vote guilty; one man (Henry Fonda) votes not guilty. The majority complain and harass Fonda, but as he begins to articulate his objections to the evidence presented, minds are changed. Mind you, Fonda does not declare that the boy is innocent, he simply harbors a reasonable doubt as to his guilt and therefore is reluctant to sentence him to death.

The cast is a cross-section of (white male) humanity. There is the principled Fonda, an insecure jury foreman (Martin Balsam), a meek bank teller (John Fiedler), a couple of angry, prejudiced business owners (Lee J. Cobb and Ed Begley), an immigrant watchmaker (George Voskovec), a silly ad man (Robert Webber), a retired man (Joseph Sweeney), a house painter (Edward Binns), a stockbroker (E.G. Marshall), and two other working-class jurors (Jack Klugman and Jack Warden).

The day is hot, with a rainstorm threatening. Sweating and arguing, the twelve go over the testimony given to them again and again. Fonda wears down the certainty of the voters for guilt; eventually he convinces all of them to vote not guilty. As this happens, we are given essential details about each and every juror, giving each of them a distinct character and viewpoint.

So how did Lumet do it? He started with the camera poised slightly above the heads of the actors; gradually, he brings the camera down to level with their faces, and then, in the last third of the film, he shoots from below, letting the performers’ faces loom over the audience. Gifted with outstanding performances from everyone involved, the merciless close-ups that make up the film are filled with excellently underplayed reactions.

The result is a commanding meditation on the flimsy nature of the implementation of human justice, and the prejudices and mental shortcuts that cause people to make bad decisions. Fonda is the voice of reason here; the men respond to his quiet insistence that the boy may not be guilty with varying degrees of disbelief and credulity. Is justice served? Perhaps; the system calls for a unanimous verdict, and this particular jury comes down on the side of innocence. We can but hope that, if we were ever in the defendant’s position, there would be a Henry Fonda on the jury.

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

NFR Project: '3:10 to Yuma' (1957)

 

NFR Project: “3:10 to Yuma”

Dir: Delmer Davies

Scr: Halsted Welles

Pho: Charles Lawton Jr.

Ed: Al Clark

Premiere: Aug. 7, 1957

92 min.

A decent little Western, with many similarities to High Noon (1952). In it, a rancher, Dan Evans, (Van Heflin) takes up the duty of guarding a wanted man, Ben Wade (Glenn Ford). Ford here plays one of his rare “bad” characters, just as winningly as he played good guys. The plan is to get the outlaw onto the 3:10 train to Yuma, where the Territorial Prison is. Wade’s gang is all set to free him. Ignoring the faint-heartedness of those around him, Evans literally sticks to his guns and perseveres, getting his man to the train on time.

The movie is unique in that it primarily deals with the mental states and emotions of those involved. There is little gunplay, and no chase to speak of. Wade tries to convince Evans to let him loose, offering him a large sum of money for the favor. Evans refuses. He prevents another man from killing Wade – and Wade returns the favor by allowing himself to be taken off on the train.

The NFR Project is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: 12 Angry Men.

NFR Project: 'The Ten Commandments' (1956)

 

NFR Project: “The Ten Commandments”

Dir: Cecil B. DeMille

Scr: Aeneas MacKenzie, Jesse L. Lasky, Jr., Jack Gariss, Fredric M. Frank

Pho: Loyal Griggs

Ed: Anne Bauchens

Premiere: Nov. 14, 1956

220 min.

Can you top this? Cecil B. DeMille’s 1956 swan song as a director is the most hyperbolic epic of all time.

“The greatest movie picture of all time!” “A supreme emotional experience!” “DeMille’s overwhelming masterpiece!”

Modesty of means and statement was never a strong point with DeMille (1881-1959), the master showman of the American cinematic extravaganza. Only he would have the guts to turn the story of Moses and Passover into a rip-snortin' romantic triangle – Moses (Charlton Heston), the future Pharoah (Yul Brynner), and Princess Nefreteri (Anne Baxter) -- complete with oily, bare-chested male leads, a drag-queen-ready performance from Baxter, and an ornery and disheveled cast of thousands.

The stiff, painterly frame compositions and bombastic, super-serious acting style make this an instant camp classic. It is time once again to teach our children the true meaning of Pesach by laughing along to this enormous zircon of a film.

Theologically, it's a nightmare, despite the reams of experts referenced defensively in the opening credits. In DeMille's very special preshow front-of-curtain chat, he clearly equates ancient tyranny with contemporary Communism. DeMille's voice continues to narrate as the film begins.

In this interpretation, Moses is more of a he-manly star-spangled freedom-seeker. Shoehorning this complex set of stories into a riches-to-rags-to-Sinai saga formula makes this Ten Commandments the apotheosis of cinematic adaptations. The crazy-mirror sumptuousness of the scenery and the burning conviction in everyone's eyes (save for Cedric Hardwicke as Pharoah, who does whatever he damn pleases on screen and gets away with it) can't anchor its outrageous extravagances.

Comparisons of this earnest Biblical confetti with the ironic, subversive theater of Charles Ludlam and others who pretended to the throne of the Theatre of the Ridiculous are apt. The mise en scene and dialogue collide, with a screech of cocked eyebrows and sideways glances.

“Moses has words. Pharaoh has spears.”

“Your tongue will dig your grave, Memnet!”

 “Does it take the entire Nile to quench your thirst?”

“Oh, Moses, Moses, why of all men did I fall in love with a prince of fools?”

“In the copper mines of Giza, the living are dead.”

“Too many ears tie a rat’s tongue.”

“All that you would have from me, he would not even take!”

“You do not cry out, Joshua. But you will – for the mercy of death!”

“So shall it be written – so shall it be done.”

And on and on. It’s a heckuva story, deliriously extravagant. Ludicrous, yet compelling.

DeMille was a past master of cinema. He made 70 movies; 52 of them in the Silent Era. He started directing movies before the U.S. entered World War I. In fact, he had already made this movie! In 1923, he cranked out a silent epic with the story of Moses an as epic prologue to a modern-day drama. This first Ten Commandments was a big hit.

DeMille was in love with things titanic – statues, sphinxes, walls, gates. His silent version of Commandments was erected at the Guadalupe Dunes, 170 miles north of L.A. where he built massive sets, ran out of money, borrowed more, and finished his grand vision. (The sets persist beneath the sand there.) In this first go-round, he takes us from the Ninth Plague to Moses’ anger at the specter of the Golden Calf.

In 1956, he was armed with better special effects, a killer Elmer Bernstein score, VistaVision, Technicolor, sound, and a raft of supporting actors that keep their performances to the proper operatic pitch. At heart DeMille was a turn-of-the-last-century purveyor of old-fashioned, grandiosely staged melodramas; what could be more inherently melodramatic than the workings of the Lord? It is stiff. It is stagey. But it is engraved on our collective psyche.

DeMille is on a quest here. He wants to give you the definitive Moses, and he largely succeeds. He is perfectly sincere in his approach, but he filters the ancient story through his showman’s imagination. He blows up everything as big as he can get it. The colors are garish, the manners bombastic. He crowds the screen with some strong actors – Edward G. Robinson, Vincent Price, John Carradine, John Derek, Judith Anderson, Yvonne De Carlo, Woody Strode, Michael Ansara.  Over-actors all. And some actors from the Silent Era – H.B. Warner, Henry Wilcoxson.

Here, Moses, the hot-shot adopted son of Cedric Hardwicke, is cast into the desert when he announces that he is actually a Hebrew, drawn from the river by the Pharoah’s sister. Oh, and he killed Baka, the overseer. This throws into the dustbin his blooming romance with Nefreteri, who must now marry his rival Ramses.

He goes out into the wilderness and gets his head together. He gets married, settles down. Ramses becomes Pharoah. Then we get the Burning Bush, the mission to Egypt. Nefreteri tries to woo him back, but Moses is all holy now (he has an overarching gray mane now that he has seen the Lord) and he doesn't want her. The ultimate revenge -- he is dedicated to God, you poor woman.

Then the Plagues, the liberation and crossing of the Red Sea, the giving of the Commandments, the disobedience of Israel.

Then we get a quick voiceover informing us that the Hebrew people then had to wander for 40 years (actually, it was the reaction to the report of the twelve scouts that condemned Israel to four decades of wandering). Finally, he gets them to the Promised Land! But he can’t go in himself. (True story: he pissed off God at another point in the wanderings.) So, good old white-haired Moses goes walking up the side of Mount Nebo, turns around, and waves bye-bye! The End.

It’s a wild ride. It’s meant to overwhelm your senses and confirm your faith in God.

The NFR Project is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: 3:10 to Yuma.

NFR Project: 'The Searchers' (1956)

NFR Project: “The Searchers”

Dir: John Ford

Scr: Frank S. Nugent

Pho: Winton C. Hoch

Ed: Jack Murray

Premiere: May 16, 1956

119 min.

It’s the best American film ever made. Fight me.

It’s also the most subversive. Within the framework of a genre film, a Western, director John Ford created an exposé of the dark and violent undercurrent beneath the myth of American progress.

To do so, he had to cast the most stereotyped actor of his day, John Wayne, to play completely against type, as a haunted and vengeful man, a racist and a bigot, obsessed with destroying what he could not rescue. Wayne lived up to the challenge, creating the character Ethan Edwards as a dark and complex figure who bears damnation in the hell of his feelings. He is the “hero” of The Searchers, and at the end he is the only one who loses everything. He is America, condemned to savage glory.

Though set on the West Texas plains, Ford shot this extraordinary film in Monument Valley, Arizona, far off in the red-rock desert. He used the near-mythic grandeur of the place to set off the tiny human figures traversing it. It is 1868, and Ethan Edwards comes home to his brother’s ranch belatedly after serving with the Confederacy in the Civil War. He has gold, and a medal he gives to his 8-year-old niece Debbie. It is obvious there is unspoken attraction between Ethan and his brother’s wife.

The Texas Rangers, led by a Reverend/Captain Sam Clayton (Ward Bond at his best), show up and enlist him and others to go on a hunt for Native Americans thought to have stolen some cattle. The men ride off, but the theft appears to be a ruse. The Indians attack Ethan’s brother’s place, killing him, his wife, and their son. Two girls, sisters Debbie and Lucy, are abducted.

What follows is a relentless decade-long search for Debbie (Lucy is presumably raped, tortured, and killed offscreen early on). Ethan vows to get Debbie back from her abductor, Comanche chief Scar (Henry Brandon). He begins following leads all over the West, from the mountains of Colorado to the canyons of Mexico. He is joined in his pursuit by Martin Pawley (Jeffrey Hunnter), his adopted nephew and part Cherokee. As time goes on Martin learns that Ethan doesn’t want to save Debbie; he wants to kill her. He considers her an Indian now, and wants her dead. Martin swears to save Debbie when the time comes.

Ethan and Martin break off on their quest during winters, which is when a romance sparks between Martin and Laurie (Vera Miles). Their long-delayed romance serves as comic relief for the film, and symbolizes Martin’s integration into society, despite his Cherokee ancestry, a feat Ethan cannot duplicate.

Debbie (now Natalie Wood) is found, and is at first reluctant to join the whites again. The second time they track her down, she assents to go with them. Ethan finds her first, chases her, grabs her, lifts her in his arms – and says, “Let’s go home, Debbie.” He returns her to civilization and then, ignored, he walks slowly away from the camera. He is a mythic figure, at the cost of his humanity.

The chase has made Ethan savage, no better than his enemies. He slaughters buffalo when he sees them, to deny Indians food. (Blink and you’ll miss a tombstone that tells us Ethan’s mother was killed by Comanches.) When he finds his enemy dead, he scalps him. The West needs men like Ethan to make things happen, even and perhaps especially when he is consumed with fear and hatred. However, once his savage nature is given free rein, and the goal is accomplished, he is no longer needed and must be exiled from society. He has seen and done too much. He has shown us the genocidal savagery behind the mask of Manifest Destiny, and he cannot be forgiven for it.

Every detail of the film is precisely planned; the visuals are strikingly beautiful – Winton C. Hoch’s cinematography is outstanding. All the Ford stock company players are here – there’s John Qualen, and Olive Carey, and Harry Carey Jr., and Ken Curtis, and especially Hank Worden as the disturbed but benign Mose Harper. Max Steiner’s score is top-notch. The entire experience is mesmerizing.

There’s not a wasted frame. Everything illustrates character or advances the plot, and most of the time it does both at the same time. The film rewards frequent viewings; there is telling detail on every inch of the screen. Ford loves his characters and gives them dimension and individuality, letting the camera look at them on long takes. For a real granular examination of the film, read Tim Dirks’s essay on it here. Scott Allen Nollen’s essay at theNational Film Registry is fine as well.

Ethan’s need for revenge is implacable, but time moves on and so do other people. Ethan forgives Debbie and himself just long enough to ensure an equivocally happy ending. Does the white man have to eliminate those who came before him? Is the only way to move forward to kill and burn as well? And what does that do to a man’s soul?

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

NFR Project: 'One Froggy Evening' (1955)

NFR Project: “One Froggy Evening”

Dir: Charles M. Jones

Scr: Michael Maltese

Animated by Ken Harris, Abe Levitow, Ben Washam, Richard Thompson, Robert Gribbroek, Philip DeGarde

Premiere: Dec. 31, 1955

6:56

It is deemed one of the greatest cartoons of all time.

This one has a lengthy pedigree. This film began as a magazine story written by one of radio’s best writers, Lucille Fletcher. The story was adapted as a radio play by none other than the great Norman Corwin, as “My Client Curley.” This in turn was adapted into a screenplay by Lewis Meltzer and Oscar Saul and made as Once Upon a Time (1944), starring Cary Grant. It is said that this long chain of ideas playing out from their initial inspiration all influenced Chuck Jones and company over at Warner Brothers cartoon studios..

Interestingly, it contains none of the studio’s patented “starring” characters – Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd, Porky Pig. It’s a prefect little gem of a cartoon. It requires no dialogue whatsoever; we only hear the singing voice of the short’s diminutive star. It’s vivid, punchy, perfectly timed, filled with subtle expressions and bold conceptions.

In it, a construction worker uncovers a sealed box in the cornerstone of an old building. He opens it, and out jumps a singing frog, complete with top hat and cane. (Cornily, it croons the hits of the turn of the 20^th century.)

The worker sees dollars signs, literally. He grabs the frog and takes him to a talent scout. He presents the frog, who does nothing. The scout throws him out. The man rents a theater, packs it with people. The frog is singing. The curtain opens. The frog stops. In fact, it only performs when it and the worker are alone.

The worker goes nuts. His life falls apart. He’s sent to the funny farm. With the frog. Finally, he is wandering past a construction site. He finds the cornerstone. He puts the box with the frog in it inside and flees. Fast-forward to the distant future. A worker is disintegrating the now-old building and exposes the cornerstone. He finds the box. The frog leaps out and puts on a show. The worker grabs the box and gallops off. Once again, the frog has found a victim.

It’s a great little shaggy-dog story, the nightmare of knowing or possessing something special and not being acknowledged for it. The worker sees, hears the frog; why can’t anyone else? Is he nuts? Does this frog just have it in for him? Is life but a sadistic joke with a recurring punchline?

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

 

 

NFR Project: 'Modesta' (1956)

NFR Project: “Modesta”

Dir: Benjamin Doniger

Scr: Benjamin Doniger, Luis A. Maisonet, Rene Marques

Pho: Luis A. Maisonet

Ed: Paul Falkenberg

Premiere: 1956

35:55

This remarkable little film shows us a way of using cinema to implement an agenda.

Read Daniel Eagan’s essay at the National Film Registry here; it is good and comprehensive about this film and the context in which it was made.

It is but one of 65 short films made by Puerto Rico’s Office of Community Education between 1950 and 1975. These informational films were directed at rural audiences, seeking to improve their lot.

Here we have a tale of primitive feminism. A husband comes home and disrespects his wife. She hits him in the head with a stick, driving him away. She becomes the leader of the local group of women, who all take up sticks in solidarity with her. They and the men confront each other; the men back down.

A simple story, well and efficiently told, using local talent in front of and behind the camera, and sometimes utilizing non-acting locals. Director Benjamin Doniger was an experienced cinematographer – he had worked for director Robert Flaherty on Louisiana Story (1948) -- and he, straightforward and efficient, tells us a story.

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