Movie Review: The Hunchback Of Notre Dame (1939)

A stylish adaptation of the Victor Hugo classic, The Hunchback Of Notre Dame captures the turbulence of a society on the cusp of foundational changes.

Paris in the late 1400s. King Louis XI (Harry Davenport) recognizes the enlightening benefits of the new printing press technology, while his evil advisor Jehan Frollo (Cedric Hardwicke) opposes educating the people. The Notre Dame Cathedral towers over the city, and the disfigured hunchback Quasimodo (Charles Laughton) operates the massive bells. Archbishop Claude Frollo (Walter Hampden), Jehan's brother, ensures the Cathedral is available for anyone in need of sanctuary.

Spirited dancer Esmeralda (Maureen O'Hara) sneaks into the city, hoping to convince King Louis to stop the harassment of her gypsy people. She quickly attracts the attention of Jehan, Captain Phoebus (Alan Marshal), poet Pierre Gringoire (Edmond O'Brien), and Clopin (Thomas Mitchell), the leader of Paris' beggars and petty criminals. Quasimodo is also enchanted by the newcomer and attempts to abduct Esmeralda, but is arrested and faces public humiliation. When Esmeralda is implicated in a murder plot and sanctuary traditions are threatened, the Cathedral and Quasimodo are thrust into the middle of dangerous unrest.

Already the sixth cinematic treatment of Hugo's popular novel, the 1939 edition of The Hunchback Of Notre Dame is the first sound version and a prestige RKO Radio Pictures production. The script by Sonya Levien and Bruno Frank conveys Hugo's favourite themes of oppression, class struggles and humanity throbbing beneath superficial differences, and effectively taps into the parallels evident in rising pre-war tensions in Europe.

The mammoth budget of $1.8 million allows director William Dieterle to recreate a corner of Paris, and the set designs inside and outside the Cathedral are impressive. And in the large crowd scenes, including an arts festival attended by the King and the gathering of beggars and thieves at Clopin's compound, hundreds of extras animate every corner of the screen, bringing Paris to life as city teaming with people, most of them struggling to eke out an existence and praying for divine intervention at the Cathedral. 

As the King notes, until the masses are educated and supplied with knowledge to self-improve, the towering Notre Dame will remain the one and only dominant cultural force. And Quasimodo ironically brings the people together for prayer and at times of tragedy, the same people who are quick to turn away from his presence and mock his physical appearance.

Esmeralda is the catalyst for all the key events, and Maureen O'Hara, radiant in her Hollywood debut, carries the load of disruptor. From praying for her people instead of for herself, to being the only person showing Quasimodo any sympathy, Esmeralda points the way to a better future. Standing against the regressive Jehan Frollo, the other forces of good include the progressive King Louie XI and the poet Gringoire, representing the emerging critical influence of words and the arts in the country's evolution.

In relative terms Quasimodo's role is tangential, serving as a mirror to his society, but from beneath layers of excellent makeup Charles Laughton still brings the hunchback to life in heartachingly soulful notes.

Immense in scope and dramatically captivating at both the individual and societal scales, The Hunchback Of Notre Dame rings all the right bells.



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Movie Review: Only The Lonely (1991)

A romantic comedy about breaking the umbilical cord, Only The Lonely benefits from a strong cast and sharply drawn characters.

In Chicago, Danny Muldoon (John Candy) is a 38 year old police officer of Irish descent, content with a stalled career driving the prisoner transfer wagon. A batchelor without romantic prospects, he lives with his overbearing, racist and caustic mother Rose (Maureen O'Hara), and dedicates his life to pleasing her. His brother Patrick (Kevin Dunn) is happy to take advantage of Danny's easy-going nature. Meanwhile neighbour Nick (Anthony Quinn) is trying, most unsuccessfully, to start a romance with Rose.

Danny meets mortician Theresa Luna (Ally Sheedy), and they start dating. She is an introvert, and he helps her break out of her shell. But Rose is terrified of losing control over Danny, and starts undermining the budding romance. Partick starts pushing for Danny and Rose to relocate to Florida to avoid any responsibilities for looking after his mother. As much as Theresa starts to love Danny, she needs him to learn to stand up for himself.

A John Hughes production playing on the theme of nice guys finish last (or never even enter the race), Only The Lonely teases out the clash between family loyalty and personal growth. Writer and director Chris Columbus creates a conflict triangle, Danny forced to confront the incompatibility between unquestionable dedication to a selfish mother and starting down the road towards defining his own happiness.

The film maintains an agreeable sense of humour throughout, and the romance between two tentative and self-doubting individuals evolves in modest increments. However, the 12 year age difference between Candy and Sheedy is an unnecessary irritant, and Columbus cannot avoid the tendency to overproduce (both Halloween and Christmas have to make dressed-up appearances). A couple of jokes ("sometimes it's good to be a cop") are overused to eye-rolling levels, and the climax ends with the oh-so-tired race to an unplanned rendevouz.

But credit is due for featuring a portly actor as the romantic lead, and for venturing into the relatively rarely explored terrain of difficult mother-son relationships. Older people can get away with a lot by playing the age and experience card, and here Columbus asks how far is too far and when should verbal abuse, emotional blackmail and racism be called out, regardless of the aggressor's age and family ties. Because this is a romantic comedy Rose's character is afforded a soft landing, but the questions raised are worthwhile.

Maureen O'Hara is a sparkly presence in her return to the big screen for the first time since 1971's Big Jake, and Anthony Quinn is the grizzled veteran seeking a final romance in the sunset of life. Jim Belushi and Macaulay Culkin appear in small supporting roles. 

Only The Lonely glides towards the usual tidy endings with no loose thread left behind, but does so with admirable depth and polish for the genre.



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Movie Review: To The Shores Of Tripoli (1942)

An atrocious wartime propaganda film for the US Marines, To The Shores Of Tripoli mostly features men marching in formation.

Confident and cocky anti-authoritarian Chris Winters (John Payne) is the son of a storied Marine, and joins the training academy in San Diego. His drill sergeant Dixie Smith (Randolph Scott) is a friend and colleague of Winters' father. While undergoing training, Chris immediately sets his sights on Lieutenant Nurse Mary Scott (Maureen O'Hara), and does all he can to win her heart.

Chris also tries to help another hapless trainee get better, while his society girlfriend Helene (Nancy Kelly) regularly shows up to distract him from his pursuit of Mary. Chris proves himself a good soldier-in-the-making, but is still unsure if he wants to join active service, with the attack on Pearl Harbor looming.

Produced by Darryl F. Zanuck, To The Shores Of Tripoli (the title refers to a line from a Marines song) at least looks gorgeous in rich Technicolor. But no other redeeming elements are on display. Approximately half of the 86 minutes consist of platoons marching in formation this way then that, twirling their rifles in the training academy courtyard. With the war effort requiring an influx of volunteers, joining the Marines is made to look no more difficult than a high school marching band.

The movie's other half is a horrid attempt at a romance between Chris and Mary, both of them partaking in lying, deception and abuse. His behaviour fluctuates between manipulation and harassment, she gets her revenge by burning his skin, and this is all supposed to be the basis for a happy couple.

Director H. Bruce Humberstone is even tripped up by the most basic objectives of the film. Despite a most docile training regime and Chris proving his heroism, the muddled conclusion manages to question whether joining the military is ever worthwhile. A new ending was slapped together after the Pearl Harbor attack to change the lingering tone, but nothing can save this wretched effort from its misery march.

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Movie Review: Big Jake (1971)

A routine late-era John Wayne western, Big Jake tries to adjust to the cinematic times but defaults to an inconsistent mishmash of gore and camp.

It's 1909, and the West is slowly modernizing with the arrival of automobiles and motorcycles. Nevertheless, lawlessness abounds, and a gang of nine thugs under the leadership of John Fain (Richard Boone) pillages the McCandles ranch, killing several people and kidnapping Little Jake (Ethan Wayne) for a $1 million ransom. Little Jake's grandmother Martha (Maureen O'Hara) survives the raid, and calls on her estranged husband Big Jake (John Wayne) to handle the ransom payment and free the young boy.

Big Jake is a crusty frontiersman who walked out on the family years prior for vague reasons. He has an uneasy relationship with his sons, but nevertheless teams up with James (Patrick Wayne) and Michael (Christopher Mitchum). Along with Indian scout Sam (Bruce Cabot) they go after the kidnappers, who are lying in wait across the border in Mexico.

With 1969's The Wild Bunch popularizing the death of the old west and redefining the allowable gore quotient in Westerns, John Wayne attempts to align his persona with the modern on-screen times. Big Jake features plenty of bright red squibs to simulate gun shots, and many references to the changing landscape, with civilization creeping in from the east. But a John Wayne western is also required to meet the expectations of long-time fans, and by 1971 this means an abundance of unnecessary slapstick, frequent superfluous fist fights, and a jerky tone as the unevenly applied visual violence sits uneasily next to more old fashioned sensibilities.

At least Wayne is not beyond poking fun at himself. Jake's age, declining abilities and fading eyesight are frequent points of reference. He tries to use more brains than brawn to try and outsmart his younger opponents. Jake also meets his match and loses a bare knuckled fight, although that may be an intentional distraction.

More disappointing is a trite story of pursuit and revenge, punctuated by unconvincing tension between Big Jake and his sons. The script is tired, with the dialogue exchanges often descending into the same macho posturing on a loop. The bad guys make key mistakes at critical times, never pull the trigger when they can, and always allow Jake and his sons time to weasel out of tight spots. The entire premise of the story is also suspect: a trunk containing $1 million is apparently right there at the McCandles ranch, and with minimal effort the Fain gang could have escaped with the cash rather than the kid.

On the more positive side, director George Sherman, delivering his final film, captures impressive and satisfyingly rich vistas. The action sequences are adequate, and the final showdown is a reasonably enjoyable and prolonged climax featuring a mix of close up and long range combat.

The supporting cast is filled with B-movie talent pushed by nepotism into prominent roles, Wayne's son Patrick and Robert Mitchum's son Christopher given more screen time than their talent deserves. Richard Boone emerges as the one weighty presence, but he is underused.

Maureen O'Hara only features in the opening 20 minutes or so, and Big Jake represents the last of her five on-screen teamings with Wayne. As the traditional west is erased by the sands of time, both the stars and partnerships of old fade into mediocre movies.

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Movie Review: McLintock! (1963)

A comedy Western, McLintock! is a tedious exercise in atrocious low brow humour.

George Washington "G.W." McLintock (John Wayne) is a tough but fair cattle baron who owns most of the land and businesses in the town that carries his family's name. The arrival of settlers creates some tension among the local cattle ranchers, as do Indians who show up to welcome incoming Chiefs. McLintock offers a job to Devlin Warren (Patrick Wayne), an enthusiastic young man, and also takes in Devlin's mother Louise (Yvonne De Carlo) as the new household cook.

G.W.'s ill-tempered wife Katherine (Maureen O'Hara) shows up after a long separation, demanding a divorce and insisting that she will scoop their daughter Becky (Stefanie Powers) back east. G.W. refuses to agree to any of her demands, and their relationship remains toxic. Meanwhile Devlin sets his eyes on Becky, while Louise is also on the prowl for a partner to take the place of her deceased husband.

Directed by Andrew V. McLaglen from a script developed by John Wayne but credited to James Edward Grant, McLintock! is an adaptation of sorts of Shakespeare's The Taming Of The Shrew. The film wallows in infantile slapstick humour, and surrenders to misogynistic and racist tendencies. Women's bottoms are spanked with coal shovels, Indians are generally treated as whiskey-loving caricatures, and the humour is anchored by increasingly tiresome and seemingly endless fistfights, people sliding into water pits and drunks tumbling down the stairs. Three times, just to make the point.

With the genre clearly reaching its nadir in terms of ideas, creativity and energy, dross like McLintock! explains the emergence of the Spaghetti Western, Sergio Leone and his cohorts grabbing the Western by the boot spurs and injecting a large dose of stylistic steroids to reinvigorate its potential.

McLintock! extends to an agonizing 127 minutes, McLaglen seemingly clueless about how to try and sharpen the focus onto any of the loose threads that attempt to pass as plot. The film just throws ideas at the screen and does exactly nothing with any of them. Cattle ranchers against settlers, incompetent politicians, Indians fighting for respect, several unconvincing romances and finally a Comanche raid during a 4th of July celebration. All of it comes and goes with barren soullessness, and the story lines disintegrate into interludes that mainly serve to interrupt Wayne's awkward soliloquies espousing his philosophies on life.

Not even the central conflict between Katherine and G.W. is given its due. She is bitter and angry, he is uncaring, and so it stays for the best part of two hours until Katherine gets her humiliating comeuppance.

Far from funny, McLintock! is boring, imbecilic, and grotesquely dated.

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The Movies Of Maureen O'Hara

All movies starring Maureen O'Hara and reviewed on the Ace Black Blog are linked below:

The Hunchback Of Notre Dame (1939)

How Green Was My Valley (1941)

To The Shores Of Tripoli (1942)

The Black Swan (1942)

The Quiet Man (1952)

Our Man In Havana (1959)

McLintock! (1963)

Big Jake (1971)

Only The Lonely (1991)

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The Index of Movie Stars is here.

Movie Review: The Quiet Man (1952)

A romantic comedy set in rural Ireland, The Quiet Man features John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara in fine form as two headstrong individuals destined to be together. But the film also suffers from slow pacing and an oversaturation of local Irish flavours.

Sean Thornton (Wayne) arrives back in his birth town of Inisfree, Ireland, after turning his back on a boxing career in the United States. Sean buys back the home where he was born from the widow Sarah Tillane (Mildred Natwick), a transaction that annoys his boorish neighbour Will Danaher (Victor McLaglen) to no end. Sean sets his eyes on Will's resolute and fiery sister Mary Kate (O'Hara), a stunning red head, and becomes determined to win her heart, but the perpetually angry Will does all he can to block the relationship.

For personal reasons Sean avoids a physical confrontation with Will at all costs, and is instead helped by the local townfolk, including Father Lonergan (Ward Bond) and wagon driver Michaeleen Flynn (Barry Fitzgerald), to succeed in his pursuit of Mary Kate despite Will's protests. But Mary Kate herself has preset and traditional ideas about her self-worth, and even when Sean thinks he is making progress in his domestic life, he is surprised by local customs and forced to seek an unconventional resolution with Will.

Directed by John Ford as a celebration of his Irish roots, The Quiet Man is an amiable-enough film that is easy to enjoy. Filmed on location in Ireland, the scenery is lush, the Winton Hoch cinematography brings out the best of the landscape, and the romance elements find the cozy space between comedy and drama. Sprinklings of background context and character development help to maintain a reasonable level of interest, and the central characters of Sean and Mary Kate carry sufficient edge to generate sparks. And it's good to see John Wayne in a sturdy role that doesn't require a gun.

Mary Kate's quest for a sense of self-empowerment while still respecting traditions is an engaging theme. She is devastated when Will blocks Sean's attempt at courtship, but cannot bring herself to disobey her brother. She is further demoralized when Will withholds the cash portion of her dowry. The money is not the issue, but the symbolism of independence matters, and Sean will need to prove that he cares enough to fight for her dignity. The liberated sensibilities sit uneasily next to some dated scenes featuring Mary Kate being roughly manhandled by Sean, his physical impositions portrayed as the normal demands of a well-meaning but impatient lover-to-be.

At 129 minutes, The Quiet Man does go on. The actual plot is quite thin, which is no surprise given that the source material is a short story that appeared in a magazine. Ford pads the running time with plenty of local colour. In a case of seasoning trying to cover for the absence of substance, there are a few too many secondary characters, and all of them are jovial Irish locals with a love for vivid outfits and of course frequent stops at the pub. There are also several tedious Irish songs, and quite a few scenes drag on well after the point is made.

This all leads to the climactic fist fight, a prolonged, genuinely funny across-the-fields bout between Sean and Will that goes on for about 20 minutes, complete with a drinks intermission at the pub. The fight injects some much needed energy and jolts the film back to life. The Quiet Man is decent if a bit mundane when he adheres to his title, but better when his fists swing into boisterous action.

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Movie Review: The Black Swan (1942)

A second-rate pirate swashbuckler, The Black Swan mechanically ticks off the genre boxes and generally forgets about context, character and charm.

In the battle between the British and the Spanish for supremacy on the seas, Britain relies on privateer pirates to extend its power. The legendary Captain Henry Morgan (Laird Cregar) is the most prominent, and his loyal followers include the charismatic Captain Jamie Waring (Tyrone Power), better known as Jamie Boy, and the crusty Captain Billy Leech (George Sanders), commander of the fast and powerful ship Black Swan. Just as Jamie extricates himself from his latest entanglement with the Spanish, and sets eyes on Lady Margaret (Maureen O'Hara), a peace of sorts is declared. As a reward the King installs Captain Morgan as the new governor of Jamaica, replacing Margaret's father, Lord Denby (George Zucco).

This causes a rift among the other Captains. Jaime remains loyal to Morgan and joins the side of law and order in Port Royal. Leech does not trust the peace process and decides to stay independent, terrorizing the Caribbean seas. Jamie continues his pursuit of Margaret, although she already has a suitor in the form of English gentleman Roger Ingram (Edward Ashley). Morgan finds the job of ruling difficult, and he is undermined by both the elitists of Jamaica and Leech's piracy. Jamie has to find a way to help his friend and win Margaret's heart.

Although it offers a modicum of enjoyment, everything about The Black Swan feels rushed. Directed by Henry King, the film clocks in at 85 minutes, and sacrifices most of what passes as thoughtful narrative development. The ship-to-ship battles are perfunctory, the politics rudimentary, and the characters neatly break down into good and bad. Hardly any background context is offered for any of the individuals, and the screenplay, co-written by Ben Hecht as an adaptation of a Rafael Sabatini story, strips down character interactions to almost childish levels.

Even allowing for the era portrayed, the treatment of women is close to harrowing, with ladies reduced to so much property thrown over the shoulder by uncouth men as spoils of battle. When Jamie suddenly reforms into a government man, he does modify his behaviour and pursues Margaret in a more gentlemanly way. She plays hard to get throughout the film, as well she should.

On the plus side, the The Black Swan does look great in rich technicolor, and won the Best Cinematography Academy Award. Maureen O'Hara is gorgeous as she rises above the material and looks sniffily down on the ramshackle happenings around her. Tyrone Power is frequently given reasons to lose his shirt, amplifying the film's all-round visual appeal. George Sanders is an imposing villain, and Anthony Quinn appears in a small role as another of the rough seamen.

The Black Swan creates plenty of splashy noise, but is singularly lacking in requisite elegance.

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Movie Review: How Green Was My Valley (1941)

A family drama rich with longing for bygone days, How Green Was My Valley is an irresistible homage to the bright eyed innocence of childhood awakening to the convolutions of an adult world.

In Wales of the 1800s, members of the respected Morgan family make a living by working in the local coal mine, much like everyone else in their scenic village community tucked into the lush countryside. The family patriarch Gwilym (Donald Crisp) still works in the mine, while his wife Beth (Sara Allgood) maintains the household with help from daughter Angharad (Maureen O'Hara). The eldest five sons Ianto, Ivor, Davy, Gwilym Jr and Owen work with their father, while 10 year old youngest son Huw (Roddy McDowall) is smart enough to go to school, but is also eager to follow in the footsteps of his father and brothers.

Change slowly but surely comes to the valley. Wages are driven down due to the availability of too many workers, triggering a strike and calls for a union that create a wedge between the more traditional Gwilym and his sons. Ivor gets married to the beautiful Bronwyn (Anna Lee), and Huw develops an immediate crush on his sister-in-law. The handsome Mr. Gruffydd (Walter Pidgeon) arrives as the new preacher in the village and catches Angharad's eye. Huw and his mother are hurt on a snowy night, while Angharad is pressured into marrying Mr. Evans, the son of the mine's owner. Huw has misadventures at school, there are tragic accidents within the mine, and Angharad tries to find a way to once again be with Mr. Gruffydd.

The adaptation of the 1939 Richard Llewellyn novel is a nostalgic celebration of childhood, family and simpler times. Told through the eyes of young Huw, How Green Was My Valley unapologetically pines for days of yore, and yearns for people who have since departed and places that have forever changed.

With a Wold War rendering filming in Europe a difficult proposition, California locations and Irish accents have to suffice as representations of Wales. Director John Ford nevertheless strikes all the right notes, creating the most picturesque of mythical villages, where all the miners sing their way to and from work, the community is united, laughter is aplenty and families look out for each other and respect their elders. Then reality starts to creep into Huw's perspective, as labour strife, family divisions, economic realities and impossible affairs of the heart start to tear the family apart, and the community of his childhood disintegrates.

The film touches on a broad range of issues, including social class divisions, workers' rights, religion, and economic immigration. As Huw experiences more adult interaction, he is exposed to hypocrisy within the church community, business imperatives dispensing with surplus workers, malicious community gossip, loveless marriages, physical trauma and harrowing bullying by classmates and teachers alike. It's a lot to pack into a two hour movie, which means that no one topic dominates, but Ford keeps the film pointed in a steady direction and the pace remarkably measured, while making sure that every scene is worthy of a postcard.

Roddy McDowall was 13 years old at the time of filming and had already been acting for three year. He delivers a remarkably mature performance, the events in the valley unfolding from his viewpoint, and Huw emerging as the central character in a changing landscape. McDowall displays a range of emotion including respect for his father, worry for his family, fear for the future and the courage to adapt, all without resorting to bathos. The other performances are steady and more traditional, Maureen O'Hara as Angharad provided with the most promising adult role but ultimately not much evolution.

How Green Was My Valley succeeds as an attractive trip down memory lane tugging at the heartstrings that connect family and community, a case of the grass being greener on the other side of childhood.

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Movie Review: Our Man In Havana (1959)

A cold war satirical drama, Our Man In Havana adapts the Graham Greene novel of spy intrigue in pre-revolution Cuba with an emphasis on the more humorous elements. Under the guidance of director Carol Reed, the film is a sharp condemnation of the great game by the foot soldiers pressed into fighting a shadow war.

Havana in the late 1950s. Hawthorne (Noël Coward) of the British Secret Intelligence Service recruits vacuum cleaner salesman James Wormold (Alec Guinness) to be the local operative. Wormold's daughter Milly (Jo Morrow) has expensive tastes, and so he accepts the assignment lured by the easy money and the prospect of joining the prestigious country club. Wormold is friends with Dr. Hasselbacher (Burl Ives), a philosophical larger-than-life German, while Captain Segura (Ernie Kovacs) is the pompous Havana police chief, keeping an eye on all the spooks in town and lusting after Milly.

Pressured by London into actually earning his money by nurturing local sources and uncovering enemy secrets, Wormold invents a fake network of agents reporting to him, and draws imaginative sketches of non-existent massive new weapons systems (inspired by vacuum cleaner parts) uncovered by his spies. Unfortunately his British superiors take it all very seriously, and dispatch Beatrice Severn (Maureen O'Hara) as a secretary to bolster Wormold's Havana station resources. Death threats and dead bodies soon sweep over Havana, with Wormold finding his life in danger as his light-hearted dabbling in the spy world turns deadly serious.

Our Man In Havana distills the cold war to on-the-ground spies caught up in the absurdity of a conflict that rumbles on in distant capitals but insists on casting a long shadow towards every corner of the world. Wormold is more bemused than upset that his country needs him, and proceeds to milk the opportunity for pure personal gain and then for fun.

Greene, who wrote the script, does not hesitate to reveal the paranoia-driven idiocy of Hawthorne and his bosses in London (including Ralph Richardson as "C"), who can't tell a vacuum cleaner sketch from a real weapons threat. And the other side is not much better, intercepting and believing Wormold's grandiose transmittals and triggering a round of needless violence and bloodletting.

Filmed in Havana months after the communist revolution but set in the pre-revolutionary era, Our Man In Havana captures the sights and sounds of a bustling city full of life, lust, suspicion and chicanery. From bars to night spots, street corners to country clubs, apartments to police stations, Reed fills the screen with activity. Every shot has something going on in the background, adding to the sense of constant motion and potential eavesdropping.

Despite the stark black and white photography and the pervasive literal and metaphorical shadows dominating the city, Reed keeps the mood light and the plot humming along. The emphasis is on Wormold's sardonic view of the world as all those around him appear to be going off one edge or another. Hawthorne is fully invested in the craziness of the spy world, Hasselbacher is suspended between a murky past and a dwindling present, while Segura is prowling the streets of Havana looking for enemies and trying to endear himself to Milly.

It is in the character of Milly that the movie stumbles a bit, her out of control spending and tolerance of Segura never quite explained against her otherwise normal context. And Wormold does undergo an unlikely late transformation from make believe spy to a more professional recruit capable of outsmarting his seasoned foes.

But with Guinness, Kovacs and Ives delivering performances rich in texture and island scheming, Our Man In Havana succeeds thanks to the twinkle in its eye and a barbed attitude.

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