© 2008 Nick Zegarac
Being Julia, High Noon, U-Turn, The Best of Everything, Phone Call From A Stranger
Istvan Zabo’s Being Julia (2004) is an adroitly humorous, often frank critique of life upon the wicked stage circa 1920s. The film stars Annette Benning as grand dame of the theater, Julia Lambert. Though the actress’ professional life could not be any better, she is currently wrapping up a successful London engagement and looking forward to a vacation. Her temperament and frequent bouts of backstage depression render her a rather emotionally unstable spouse for manager Michael Gosselyn (Jeremy Irons).
Michael and Julia have an open marriage. So lax, in fact, that Michael
deliberately introduces his wife to scheming social climber and much too
young, though handsome upstart, Tom Fennel (Sean Evans) knowing the
probable likelihood that Julia will take a sexual interest in him. Before
long, Tom and Julia do indeed become passionate lovers. The trick works.
Julia snaps out of her depression and bounces gloriously back into a brand
new hit show guaranteed to make Michael a lot of money.
But Tom wants too much. Not content to simply accept Julia’s expensive
gifts, though she is quite generous in the affair (lavishing her stud with
expensive clothes, jewelry and money for travel), Tom is really after some
rapid advancement with his own career and wants Julia to offer her
understudy’s position to his girlfriend on the side, Evie (Juliet
Stevenson).
Believing that the acceptance of Tom’s terms will bring them closer
together Julia agrees, and then she quickly regrets her decision. Evie is
a harpy and decidedly not the actress that patrons will pay good money to
see. Worse, Tom has grown more distant from Julia since Evie’s
appointment. Then the truth comes out: Tom is scheming with Evie to have
Julia deposed from her perch as the undisputed first lady of the
footlights. Only this time depression will not be the order of the day:
totally delicious revenge has taken its place.
Primarily an old-time screwball comedy buried beneath some rather
contrived and maudlin melodramatic trappings, the narrative clings
together – compellingly so – thanks to Benning’s brilliantly conceived
actress of multi-contradictions. Julia is a tour de force,
masterfully carried off with a wily sense of self-deprecation. The rest of
the cast pales. Jeremy Irons is given precious little to do. Sean Evans
is never quite convincing as the lover driven by purpose. As an audience,
we know immediately what his intentions are, begging the question of how
could such a woman as sophisticated as Julia be so easily deceived.
The finale is a celebratory mode of preconceived vengeance with Julia
taking care of all those who have crossed her, but with an unerringly
light touch of distinct pleasure that is never entirely heartless or
without merit, even as it delivers immediate personal satisfaction. Being
Julia is therefore never easy. Benning however, makes it all seem quite
effortless.
Alliance Atlantis DVD presentation is quite acceptable. The anamorphic
widescreen image exhibits a refined color palette with rich bold hues,
very natural flesh tones and adequately rendered contrast levels. Blacks
are solid, though on occasion do tend to be deep gray.
Age-related artifacts are a non-issue, but distracting edge enhancement
and pixelization crop up now and then. A patina of film grain is quite
prevalent and more often rendered as digital grit for an image that is, at
times, not as smooth as one would hope for. The audio is 5.1 Dolby Digital
and quite sufficient for this primarily dialogue driven presentation.
Extras include a very brief “making of” featurette and theatrical trailer.
Often coined “the existential western,” Fred Zinnemann’s High Noon (1952) is a controversial classic: the examination of one man’s moral compass amidst a town of hypocritical weakness. Based on John W. Cunningham’s pulp story, “The Tin Star,” the screenplay by Cunningham and blacklisted writer Carl Foreman was met with considerable indifference, even outrage upon the film’s premiere. Western zeitgeist John Wayne went public, declaring High Noon as the worst movie he had ever seen. While it is certainly true that the film challenged audiences’ preconceived expectations of the classic western genre and a certain level of expectation for the readily apparent clichés that were then part in parcel of the western style, there is little to deny that the story was in fact decades ahead of its time.
So too did controversy swarm around the casting of Gary Cooper opposite Grace Kelly as the film’s romantic couple. Coop was twenty years Kelly’s senior in an era when May/December romances were not nearly as commonplace and even occasionally frowned upon. Foreman’s contributions on the screenplay were picked apart under government scrutiny as in support of some hidden communist agenda: an erroneous claim that nevertheless temporarily ended the writer’s ability to procure work in Hollywood for several long years and eventually led to his incarceration. Today, removed from McCarthyism and the “Red Scare,” High Noon plays much more like the timeless morality parable it was conceived to be rather than that misperceived subversive euphemism for political paranoia from its own time.
Filmed in and around various Californian locations, including Tuolumne City and Jamestown, the story benefits almost remarkably from its uncharacteristic ballad sung by Tex Ritter and its stark and unromantic landscape. This is the Old West revisited, without sumptuous saloon halls, loveable sidekicks or classic long shots of the gallant posse riding against the backdrop of a picturesque sunset. In every way, High Noon deals openly with very adult themes and equally genuine imminent danger facing its central protagonists.
The story begins with the marriage of Marshal Will Kane (Gary Cooper) to lovely Quaker bride, Amy Fowler (Grace Kelly). A respected pillar of the small community in which he resides, Kane has agreed to resign his commission as the law and live obscurely as a farmer with his new wife; that is, until news comes that notorious outlaw Frank Miller (Ian MacDonald) and his desperadoes are making haste on the noon day train to return and exact their revenge on Marshal Kane for incarcerating them several years before.
Urged by Mayor Jonus Henderson (Thomas Mitchell), his deputy/nee acting sheriff Harvey Pell (Lloyd Bridges), Judge Percy Mettrick (Otto Kruger) and other friends to get out of town fast, Will and Amy make haste on a coach to beat the arrival of the noon train. However, only a few miles outside of town, Will has a sudden attack of conscience. After all, how can he leave the men and women who entrusted their lives to his particular brand of stoic lawfulness?
Making the decision to return to town and face down his adversaries, Will is stunned when the very men and women who stood at his side now cower in the shadows at the thought of confronting Miller and his gang once again.
For her own safety, Will instructs Amy to take the noon train out of town. She agrees but vows to Will that if he stays behind to fight Miller their marriage will be over before it has begun. Her religious beliefs prevent the prospect of any killing, even in self-defense. In the meantime, Harvey Pell reveals his true jealousies toward Will. Always feeling inferior to Will, Harvey seizes the opportunity to attempt to break Will’s spirit and perhaps his jaw in order to gain a certain amount of limited respect as the new law in these parts. He refuses to take up arms and publicly stand by Will’s side.
While awaiting the train at the town’s hotel, Amy comes in contact with local madam, Helen Ramirez (Katy Jurado), who once had a rumored relationship with Will before he met Amy. The women exchange mutual glances, followed words and finally mixed emotions over the one man that means so much in both their lives. Helen agrees to take Amy to the station, but when Miller and his gang start shooting up the town, Amy disembarks as Helen looks on. Amy has chosen her husband’s safety over her own religious beliefs.
As Will faces down a posse of four in a violent hailstorm of bullets, Amy takes up arms, killing one of Miller’s men before being taken hostage. Realizing that he just might lose this fight, Miller pledges a trade up to Will from the relative safety of his hideout: Amy’s life for his own. Instead, Will shoots Miller dead, the cowardly town’s people rushing to his side with restored gratitude. Understanding just how little that gratitude now means, Will tosses his sheriff’s star into the dust at their feet, desolate but wiser that he has proven himself as the law he vowed so readily to uphold, even in the face of total dishonor.
High Noon is a sobering cinematic experience. It neither glorifies the Old West visually nor seeks to represent the inhabitance of this every town America as either upstanding, brave or law abiding. In the final analysis, Zinnemann’s classic tale is anti-heroic, a rarified chapter in the annals of American movies in general and the Western genre in particular.
Lionsgate DVD rectifies the gross miscarriage of justice heaped upon previous DVD reissues of High Noon from Artisan Home Entertainment. In the past, the film has had its contrast levels artificially bumped up with a very severe image quality riddle with edge enhancement, shimmering of fine details and pixelization. This reviewer is happy to report that all of the aforementioned shortcomings have been largely corrected for this new 2-disc Ultimate Collector’s Edition.
The grayscale has been impeccably remastered with its middle range tonality restored. Contrast levels appear more naturally balanced. Blacks are deep and solid. Whites are clean. Age related artifacts have been greatly tempered for an image that is smooth and satisfying. Occasionally, edge enhancement appears, though not nearly as distracting or obvious as before. The audio has been remixed to 3.1 Dolby Digital. The original mono is also included. Extras include all of the special features directly imported from the disastrous Collector’s Edition with their inherently poor image quality. These include the Leonard Maltin hosted documentary, an informative audio commentary, and a radio broadcast of Tex Ritter performing the film’s signature title tune. The real revelation herein is the newly produced, lengthy and informative documentary Inside High Noon. At 55 minutes, it is dense with information and second-hand personal recollections from the sons and daughters of late cast members. Bottom line: High Noon is a must-have and this is the version to own.
Oliver Stone’s U-Turn (1997) is an abysmal trifle, disposable entertainment of gargantuan misfires. Bogged down by John Ridley’s screenplay that presents a "bad day" gone virtually insane, this film is easily the most vile excuse for a road-trip movie ever attempted. The landscape of Ridley’s novel and screenplay is populated with a bizarre cast of reprobates that Stone has chosen to flesh out with cameo turns from a potpourri of established talent in a vain attempt to legitimize the minor tale into major box office.
The story begins when con-artist Bobby Cooper (Sean Penn) bursts a radiator hose in his 1964 Mustang convertible. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, Cooper, a shyster who has lost two fingers as partial payment to a Vegas hood, Mr. Arkady (Valery Nikolaev), and his henchman, Sergi (Ilia Volokh), was on his way back to Vegas with his $30,000 repayment when this accident occurred. Barely making it to Harlan’s, an automobile graveyard and makeshift repair shop run by bleeding gums redneck, Darrell (Billy Bob Thornton), the egotistical Bobby makes short shrift of Darrell’s limited intellect before entrusting his repairs to Darrell and then departing on foot to the nearby town of Superior Arizona: a figurative name at best.
In reality, the town is little more than a ramshackle of nearly abandoned store fronts and hovels populated by discarded lost souls that time forgot. Bobby’s first encounter is with a Blind Indian (Jon Voight) begging for loose change and a cold beverage on the street corner. Quickly, however, Bobby’s interests segue to town slut Grace McKenna (Jennifer Lopez), a sultry Hispanic lugging several large boxes of window shades back to her Jeep. Bobby helps Grace with her load and earns an invitation to her home. However, once there, Grace baits Bobby with sexual flirtations that end when Grace’s husband, Jake (Nick Nolte), arrives home.
A physical altercation ensues. Bobby leaves the McKenna home but is picked up by Jake not far down the road. After apologizing for giving Bobby his bloody nose, Jake propositions Bobby to kill his wife for the $40,000 insurance claim. Bobby refuses. However, when his own bag of money that was to be paid to Mr. Arkady is destroyed in a shotgun blast during the hold up of a local convenience store, Bobby begins to have second thoughts. Distraught and desperate, Bobby telephones Arkady to plead his case, only to have his paymaster send Sergi after him.
In the meantime, Bobby incurs the wrath of local hothead, Toby N. Tucker (Joaquin Phoenix), who misinterprets a harmless conversation between Bobby and his girlfriend, Jenny (Claire Danes), as a passionate flirtation. It doesn’t help that Jenny – a clueless waif with more imagination than tact – enjoys observing Toby in action, thereby fostering reasons for him to vent his rage.
Bobby telephones Jake in agreement with his plan to murder Grace, but once alone on a cliff with her, Bobby instead falls under her spell. The two attempt to have sex, but Grace pulls away at the last moment – confessing that Jake was actually her mother’s second husband before he became hers. She tells Bobby of a $200,000 loot McKenna has stashed in a floor safe at their house. He wears the key to the safe around his neck for safe keeping. Together Grace and Bobby plot Jake’s murder.
Meanwhile, Sergi arrives in town in search of Bobby. He is promptly arrested by Sheriff Virgil Potter (Powers Boothe) for speeding. Bobby next arrives at McKenna’s home that evening with the intent to murder Jake. But the plan goes awry, and after considerable struggle, it is Grace who takes an Indian tomahawk to her husband’s chest instead. Bobby and Grace make haste with Jake’s body in the trunk of his car only to be pulled over by Virgil, who tells Bobby that he and Grace were supposed to run away together.
Grace murders Virgil in cold blood, and she and Bobby dispose of both bodies over the side of a steep ravine. Unfortunately for Bobby, Grace has no intension of sharing her dead husband’s money with him. She pushes Bobby over cliff side and he tumbles to the rocky plateau far below, breaking a leg and an arm on the way down.
It is only then that Grace realizes Bobby still has the car keys in his pocket. She crawls down him to retrieve them, but Bobby is still alive and after much flailing about, strangles Grace to death instead. Making his way back to the car with considerable difficulty, Bobby laughingly proclaims that he is “still lucky,” only to have the replacement radiator hose that Darrell fixed explode on him in the middle of nowhere. Trapped and mortally wounded, Bobby dies in the baking sun, his body awaiting the arrival of the local vultures to be picked apart.
Those pondering the significance of this tale will be more than a tad perplexed by its convoluted morality play. None of the characters are above suspicion or reproach, hence none escape the dingy grit and uselessness of their faded, miserable lives. The point of the story is undoubtedly to illustrate the illusive tragic quality of both bad karma and fate/destiny. Bobby has begun his journey with bad intensions – therefore, his fate can only mirror his own selfishness and greed.
Jake is a child rapist who, even in death, is forced to watch another man pleasure the young woman he took advantage of for so many years. Grace is a perverse femme fatale. Though she tells Bobby that she suspects that Jake is responsible for her mother’s fatal tumble down a cliff many years before, Grace’s own predilection for murder and her final betrayal of Bobby suggest that perhaps she might have killed her own mother to be with McKenna instead.
Ridley’s screenplay is more a series of improbable vignettes strung together by Bobby’s inability to learn from past mistakes. There’s no progression or arch to any of the characters’ personal development. In fact, each is a cartoonish cut-out with only the most peripheral of understandings in relation to one another. Sean Penn is a fairly descent actor, but this isn’t his finest hour. He sleepwalks through his part, utterly disengaged. As Grace, Lopez is drearily magnificent: a cold-blooded reptile beneath her smoldering façade. As Jake, Nolte adds another wacko to his most recent list of performances. Perhaps, in the final analysis, the only point to the film is "you can’t win," a fitting tag line, considering how poorly U-Turn performed at the box office.
Poor is a good work for Sony Home Entertainment’s anamorphic widescreen DVD transfer that is marred by excessive age related artifacts – dirt, scratches – and by a very muddy color palette. At times the image can be crisp and relatively grain free. However, there are many instances where browns, taupe, oranges and beiges blend into one indiscernible mess.
Flesh tones are much too orange throughout. Fine details are lost during night scenes. Stock footage is slightly out of focus and grainier than the rest of the film. Pixelization occurs in background detail. The audio is 5.1 Dolby Digital but often registering as slightly unclear during whispered portions of dialogue. This flipper disc also contains a full-frame version of the movie on Side B. There are NO extras.
Jean Negulesco’s The Best of Everything (1959) hardly lives up to its title. The film headlines Joan Crawford and Louis Jourdan even though neither star appears in anything but brief cameos in the film: clearly a cheap publicity attempt to use "big" names that at this point in their respective careers were not quite as big as they had once been. The screenplay by Edith Sommer and Mann Rubin tells the rather generic story of four girls working in a steno pool at Fabian's Publishing Company.
Caroline Bender (Hope Lange) wants a career. Her role model is Amanda
Farrow (Crawford), a hard-nosed "bitch" boss whose affair with a married
man is on the rocks. Early on, Amanda senses that Caroline will eventually
become her competition, a discovery that first leads to blind animosity,
then eventual and mutual respect between the two as Caroline proves
herself more than professionally savvy and equal to the task. Caroline’s
commitment to her job makes her desirable to Mike Rice (Stephen Boyd), a
wealthy executive whose intentions toward her are only sometimes
honorable.
On the other end of the spectrum is fashion plate Gregg Adams (Suzy Parker). Dropping out of her career on occasion to pursue auditions for Broadway shows, Gregg aspires to playgirl status and is merely biding her time at Fabian's. Though Gregg’s eyes are set on the stage, her heart is quivering over vapid Broadway producer, David Savage (Jourdan). David, however, cares for Gregg only superficially, and much later discards her in favor of another innocuous fling.
The central narrative is largely focused on Caroline and Gregg’s plight, though it inserts two more aspiring ingénues into the mix: Barbara Lemont (Martha Hyer), working because she is divorced and with child, and April Morrison (Diane Baker), a good-time-gal who gets the short end of the stick – no pun intended. She winds up pregnant.
This "man’s world" corporate commodity is further stirred by the inclusion
of randy exec, Mr. Shalimar (Brian Aherne), to whom today’s bevy of
steno-pool lovelies would have a class-action sexual harassment lawsuit
pending. The story only gets more conventional from here, with alcoholism,
death and abortion making this melancholy melodrama largely forgettable.
The screenplay is infamous for its clichéd sexual politics, tossing about
one liners like, "Find yourself another man...I'm throwing you out...and
leave the key" or "I had the ideal husband...too bad he wasn't mine,"
flippantly out of touch with changing attitudes in the battle of the
sexes.
In keeping with Fox’s very strange choices in films deemed
worthy of inclusion in their Studio Classic Series, The Best of
Everything doesn’t really live up to either the "studio classic"
status or even its own title. Recall that Fox has included movies like
Return to Peyton Place (1961), an abysmal little nothing of a sequel
to Peyton Place (1957), as part of this series while quietly
excluding such worthy titles as Hello Dolly! (1969) and Call Me
Madam (1953) from the roster – and even more to the point – while film
titles like Wilson (1944) and Margie (1946) remain MIA.
Fox Home Video’s The Best of Everything does come with a rather
impressive anamorphic transfer. Colors are rich, bold and vibrant. After
years of viewing various discolored incarnations on VHS and television,
seeing this film restored is rather like a completely new experience. Fine
details are masterfully realized. Contrast levels are solid. A minimal
amount of grain and fading is detected. The audio is lush and lovely in
stereo. An audio commentary is the only extra. Forgivable, considering
there’s not much here to warrant a deluxe handling.
Star billing in ensemble acting is always tricky business. In
Jean Negulesco’s Phone Call From A Stranger (1952) - an
uncanny amalgam of noir styling, conventional melodrama, and a touch of
screwball comedy - it becomes downright confusing. Shelly Winters is given
above the title credit even though Gary Merrill has infinitely more screen
time. The script by Nunnally Johnson and I.A.R. Wylie is a tedious
mishmash of clichés and uncertainties with a few brief nuggets of hidden
surprise that seem to come out of nowhere.
The story concerns David L. Trask (Merrill), an attorney
running away from his home life after he discovers that wife Jane (Helen
Westcott) has been unfaithful. After telephoning Jane from the airport,
David buys his ticket under an assumed name. He is "picked up" by lonely
ex-actress/former stripper Bianca Carr (Shelley Winters) while waiting for
their flight in the terminal, and thereafter also becomes friends with two
other passengers: traveling salesman Edmund Hoke (Keenan Wynn) and Dr.
Robert Fortness (Michael Rennie).
The flight takes off during a terrible storm and is grounded
in Vegas overnight. Dr. Fortness confesses a deep, dark family secret to
David, whom he is hoping will be able to provide some much needed legal
council. It seems that one night not so very long ago, the good doctor
departed a fashionable party with fellow colleague, Dr. Tim Brooks (Hugh
Beaumont), en route to treat a patient at a nearby hospital.
Unfortunately, David’s cockiness and the influence of alcohol contributed
to a head on collision where Brooks and all of the passengers in the other
vehicle were killed instantly. Lying on his hospital bed, Fortness tells
presiding physician, Dr. Luther Fletcher (Harry Cheshire), that it was
Brooks, not he who was driving the car. Fortness’ story is backed by his
dutiful wife, Claire (Beatrice Straight), even though she knows the truth
about the accident. The secret eventually tears Fortness’ family apart.
Meanwhile, inside the airport terminal, Edmund is proudly
passing around a picture of his wife, Marie (Bette Davis). [Aside:
the photo is actually an airbrushed image with
Davis’ face pasted onto
the body of a bathing beauty pin-up.] Bianca jokingly tells Edmund that he
is far too lucky to have Marie as his wife. Fortness agrees. For both
Fortness and Bianca, Edmund is misperceived as boorish, grating and
nonsensical. However David finds Edmund amusing,
if not enlightening.
With weather conditions all clear, their plane takes off the
next morning only to suffer ice buildup on its engine and wings. It
crashes, killing all but three on board. David is the only member of his
troop to survive and he spends the rest of the film’s running time
reluctantly contacting the family members of Dr. Fortness, Edmund, and
Bianca to relay their final hours and provide closure and solace to each
family.
In Fortness’ case, David is able to reunite Claire – who had
become estranged from her husband - with their embittered son, Jerry (Ted
Donaldson). In Edmund’s circumstance, David learns that Marie has been
paralyzed for many years following an ill-fated elopement with her lover
that Edmund forgave.
The most peculiar of all reconciliations, played out in
flashback like a bad screwball moment ripped from another film, involves
David’s brief interaction with nightclub proprietor Sallie Carr (Evelyn
Varden) and Bianca’s estranged husband, Mike (Craig Stevens). Possessive
mother-in-law Sallie hated Bianca’s independence and fabricated a persona
for her that reads more that of the heartless vixen. Sensing Sallie’s
relish in demonizing Bianca, David fabricates a bit of his own
wish-fulfillment about Bianca’s audition with Rodgers and Hammerstein,
thereby deflating Sallie’s claim that her daughter-in-law was a no-good,
useless failure.
As film entertainment, Phone Call From A Stranger is
acutely convoluted. Its plot suffers from too many half-ideas that
never meld into one complete narrative. Merrill does his usual laconic
"world-weary" loner routine with aloof disenchantment. He doesn’t seem
terribly engaged, but rather trudging from one plot point to the next with
an "Am I there yet?" mentality that, at times, is rather oppressive.
Bette Davis is wasted in her near cameo. Truly, Davis’
acceptance of the part of Marie (a role that any actress could have played
blindfolded) has to be one of the all-time cinema curiosities. How
desperate for work was she? Winters is a bit long in the tooth to be the
tart with a proverbial heart of gold, but she pulls it off for the most
part. Wynn overplays his hand with a painful example of ham acting. In the
end, the characters and the plot do not gel the way they should. The
results are mediocre at best.
Fox Home Video provides a beautiful DVD transfer. The B&W image exhibits exceptional tonality in its grayscale. Blacks are deep and solid. Whites are nearly pristine. Contrast levels are perfectly balanced. Age related artifacts are rare and do not distract. The audio is mono as originally recorded and presented at an adequate listening level. Extras are limited to an interactive press book and lobby and stills gallery.
All reviews are copyrighted property of Nick Zegarac.