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Desert Sands (1955)
No Lawrence, but no Larry of the Stooges either ;)
This film, admittedly not a masterpiece generally or even of its genre, does have a certain charm about it mainly in its easygoing, almost casual, depiction of Legionairres.
Worst thing about it: had to wait an awfully long time and endure too much tawdry action before the Arab princess (Marla English) -- who I worshiped -- strode in on her roan steed and before her first line strikes Meeker sharply with her whip! (Don't see entrées like that much anymore.) Anyone notice the sheik's playing loose and easy with prisoner of war rules -- reviewing their bios, finding their weak spots, choosing special informers who manifest weak character flaws, and...will...talk.
And how about that Alita's, the princess's slave girl, man savvy, learning from the smartest...and the simplest.
One more thing: why in hell does Maltin omit this pic from his book? Does anyone know?
The Good Shepherd (2006)
Family Man - Not
I've said it before and now I'll say it again after seeing this movie, a further vindication of my basic philosophy concerning any espionage agency of any type of any country in the world: keep out all marrieds, all family types. That's right: no husbands, no wives, no fathers, no sons; no mothers, no daughters, no friends of either persuasion. And no pets, especially, no pets. Get the loners. Don't worry -- there are plenty of them out there. 95% of the impediment to effective operations within these agencies -- and you've seen it in "Sheperd" as you have in "Russia House", and, I dare say, as you will see in the next big spy thriller with Jammie Foxx (name escapes) -- is, once and for all, relationships. Wise up, guys: NO RELATIONSHIPS. The other 5%? Misplaced trust, of course. No correct that: trust. Come on all you agents: NO TRUST. Geeze.
The Russia House (1990)
Another kind of hero
We live our lives and one day up comes the chance for exceeding the boundaries of everyday existence. This came to Barley and Katja. But their heroism wasn't manifested as heroics for flag and country. Theirs was for each other and triumph over the contriving connivers -- skulduggery even in glasnost. How all of this gets done in the film was intricate and convolutional. Has anybody yet figured it all out? But the scenes and scenery, photography and music, the definitive qualities of each character elevated, for me, this film over so many others. Connery in total abandonment of Bondian casualness delivers, to my sensitivity, the greatest love paean ever as he walks to Pfeiffer in the kitchen down the hall uttering "I love you" and going on invoking maturity, absoluteness, and unselfishness all in one ten- foot soliloquy. I could go on, but I'm all pent up at the moment. Later, then.
Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941)
Color me "aghast"
Forgive me, but for the first few minutes (I came in on the murder scene and investigation)I gaped aghast. Montgomery came across with bug-eyed incredulity but you have to love that dark double-breasted suit. Evelyn Keyes was no less goo-goo but had that knock out suit with the semi-circular curves on lapel and shoulders. Years later, she would smolder me in a number of films. I guess in 1941 a heavenly "collector" was in uniform looking much like a commercial airline's pilot get up - regional carrier. James Gleason hammed it up; he's much better in lesser roles, e.g., the cab-driver, Sylvester, in THE BISHOP'S WIFE and numerous others. Another hammer was Donald MacBride as the Inspector. I fully expected him to pull his fedora down around his ears. Still, in the end it was fairly amusing in spots.
Kiss Me Deadly (1955)
Great cinematographic technique; a new kind of heroine enters.
Without looking at the cast of characters I had trouble picking out Cloris Leachman but decided upon the blonde, Gabrielle, with the dusty voice but she didn't turn out to be her. I had missed the opening wherein Cloris as Cristina came and went but evidently made an impression. On the other hand, whatever happened to the pathetically wistful, then evil, Gaby Rodgers?...When Decker gets shot point blank he hardly flinches and gets off several expository lines about the dogs of Cerberus(?)eloquently...Velda, the secretary, modernizes the profession, sensualizes it -- she impressed me far more than Rodgers. That photography, editing, and direction were as sharp and creative as any I've seen in motion pictures.
Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
My favorite movie of all time.
Simply the most lavish panorama a movie screen (of any technological advancement) can contain. The English and the Arab: Britisher and Beduin, stripped to their underpinnings, bereft of uniform and robes, the relentless Mid-East sun parching their flesh, bleaching their bones, scorching their brains. Its pace is scalding, mercilessly carrying you across the dessert sands, allying you now with Dryden's geo-political wizardry, then with Feisal's existential Zeitgeist. In the middle, but no middle-man, is Lawrence, Laurennz, as the Arabs drawl it out, becoming the astrolabe and the rudder of the burgeoning Arab movement, at once, both Manichean and masochist, bedazzling and hidden.