gmartin-2 Reviews

Cowboy (1958)

Dysfunctional Cattle Drive

[2/10 · 10 April 2008]

My father took me to see Cowboy in 1959. Afterwards, all I could remember were Ford/Lemmon shooting cockroaches off a hotel wall and Ford holding Lemmon over a scorching campfire. I hated the movie. Forty-nine years later I had the chance to revisit the movie on DVD and discovered nothing to make me revise my sour opinion. If anything, I dislike the movie even more—a long time to nurse a grudge.

Nothing about the movie works for me. Although Ford and Lemmon begin as likable enough characters, they actually worsen as the story progresses. Ford, a callous but rigorously fair trail boss, metamorphoses into an aging sentimentalist who has "found a son." Lemmon, a naïve and honest tenderfoot, ends the movie leering at a woman in a hotel lobby.

It may have been the result of having tried to condense too much from the Frank Harris "autobiography"—nowhere credited, incidentally—but there are too many loose ends in the movie for a coherent narrative. The genesis of Lemmon's love for Anna Kashfi is never explained, and it does in fact seem like an immature and irresponsible infatuation fully deserving the father's contempt. Although the movie is rich in character actors (some, like Strother Martin, uncredited), they barely register on screen. Lemmon calls the near-murderous Richard Jaeckel a thief and threatens him physically, but the expected showdown never arrives. Late in the movie, Lemmon shoots and kills a Comanche brave without a trace of remorse or introspection-- or explanation how he became such a crack shot. There is also an unsettling and pointless running joke about cannibalism.

I have never cared much for Lemmon as an actor, finding him mincing and prissy. Glenn Ford has always struck me as taciturn and dependable, but here he is guilty of bad acting as he tries to "reach" Lemmon in a halting, unconvincing speech late in the movie. Ford's eyes are dead and he sounds less conflicted with emotion than like he forgot his lines. Also, what Ford finds likable in Lemmon is never made clear. Throughout the cattle drive Lemmon is arrogant, meddling, and judgmental. One indication of the problems with the movie is that the deepening emotional attachment between Ford and Lemmon is announced by the co-stars, not demonstrated in their acting. This is lazy writing, directing, and acting. The abrupt reconciliation between Lemmon and Ford in the cattle car seems forced and arbitrary; and the movie ends with Lemmon and Ford laughing uproariously—I guess to leave no doubt of a "happy ending." Curiously, the movie trailer included on the DVD makes it clear that the movie is intended as an antidote to the TV westerns popular in the late 1950s. Stealing a cliché from television is not a smart way to reinforce that distinction. The trailer also has Lemmon repeatedly emphasizing the "adult" themes in the movie, which seem quaint now and couldn't have provoked audiences even back then.

Ultimately, the only intriguing character in the movie is the retired town marshal, played by Brian Donlevy. The part is small but tantalizing, and hints at a far more involving story. His character is made so peripheral that his shocking and poignant fate is off-screen and only narrated by Dick York. A movie about Donlevy's dispirited and lonely ex-lawman would have made a truly "adult western."

I don't take particular pleasure in panning Cowboy. Lemmon died in 2001, Ford died in 2006, and so many of the actors in the movie have been dead for years. But the truth is Cowboy is unworthy of any of them.

Killers from Space (1954)

Of Its Time

[4/10 · 4 April 2008]

I was in elementary school in the late 1950s when I first saw Killers From Space on television. I was convinced I had just seen the greatest motion picture ever made. I even looked in my parents' almanac to verify that it had won the Academy Award for Best Picture for 1954. I was astounded to discover that not only did it not win, it wasn't even nominated. At that instant I concluded the awards were rigged, and they carry that taint for me to this day.

The years have moderated my original opinion about Killers from Space considerably. I am no longer enthralled at a protagonist resurrected from the dead by space aliens who came to earth over the "electron bridge" and who pursue him with disembodied eyes and then stick him in a cave with fire engine-sized insects that never quite notice him.

What I do still appreciate about the move is its brisk pace—it packs a lot of action (or at least plot) into 71 minutes, and the actors treat the material with deadly seriousness. Peter Graves, recently off his riveting performance in Stalag 17, is a believable if understandably confused protagonist who confronts his plight with resolve if not complete intelligence. The military and FBI are treated without irony—common in the fifties, but refreshing today. I'd never seen chubby aliens before and haven't seen them since, but as a kid I found their unblinking ping-pong ball eyes unnerving, and spent days trying to figure out the science behind the "electron bridge."

My affection for the movie, however, should not be taken for critical approval. It is not by any standards a good movie and no one is worse off for never seeing it. On the other hand, a one-time viewer might appreciate the sense of innocence and total lack of the cynicism that pervades movies today.

F/X (1986)

Unpleasant Journey with Unpleasant Companions

[4/10 · 1 September 2006]

Given the glowing reviews for this movie, I am surprised at how much I disliked it. The movie has more than its share of glaring plot holes— some reviewers warn against examining all plot elements too closely. This is an indulgence I will (reluctantly) respect since the movie, in my opinion, has a much more serious and grating problem.

What I found off-putting about the movie is that, except for Diane Venora's brief role as Bryan Brown's girlfriend, there is not a sympathetic character to be found anywhere. Brown's character—the heart of the story after all-- starts off a likable "everyman." but becomes increasingly less so as the story proceeds until he devolves into a cold-blooded killer, indifferent to the carnage he is creating around him—- not every federal agent has to die-- and corrupt, too. In the van chase scene, he is oblivious to the public menace he is causing in using his f/x tricks. (This could have been mitigated with a single line of dialog or a look of concern; but, never mind.) I wanted to like Martha Gehman's character as Brown's assistant, but she lost me with her gleeful "I wish I could have seen the look on his face" when she tricked the pursuing detective into thinking he had run over a woman. Finally, the transformation of Brian Dennehy's character into just another corrupt cop left me with a distinct sour taste at the end of the movie. After everything is said and done, for Brown and Dennehy it's all about the money. Even Schwarzenegger was never this cynical in his movies. The last thing that bothered me is that I always presumed movie special effects were to keep the actors safe. Since here they are used to kill, it seems like a betrayal of their purpose.

On the positive side, I had no problems with the casting or acting. Maybe things improved in f/x 2. I can only hope.

Show Girl in Hollywood (1930)

Appreciated Comments

[25 January 2000]

Some years ago, I bought the novel for 25 cents in a library book sale. It was obviously published as a movie tie-in since it contained tantalizing stills from the film. Since I could not find a listing in any of the popular film guides, I presumed it was another "lost film" until I caught it on cable earlier this month. In this context, the quality of the film was irrelevant and I agree it was slow-going. The exception was Blanche Sweet-- a name entirely unknown to me until this film. Her performance was both understated and devastating, delineating the soul-rending panic that aging Hollywood actresses must still feel today. It's an odd feeling to be moved by performance that was filmed 70 years ago: I'm glad I wasn't alone in appreciating its underlying desperation.