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Two movie recs. Not movies I've seen recently. And not new. Both of these films are black and white and fabulous. Two very different directors and styles. But there is a serious lack of respect lately for classic films, and since I have mad love for old movies, I'm going to pimp some, despite any critical ability on my part.
Anyway, these films though radically different have a lot in common in ways that appeal to my sad, geeky heart. :)
Stalag 17
Directed by Billy Wilder (I will try to control my BILLY WILDER FANGIRLING!!!) the genius behind Sunset Boulevard and Some Like it Hot. He was a crazy, cynical European ex-pat who in his movies made the world violent and the people often small or outright vicious, but who always let them pull through at the last second with acts of surprising grace and humanity. To me, it is always like he took something completely absurd, that you know is absurd, that he knew was absurd, and then made it normal by exposing it to you in a thousand different ways. You saw what makes the absurd tick, what makes it kind of like you and then once he'd done that, he left you wanting more--and all while making you laugh, (usually anyway).
Stalag 17 is war movie. Or actually, a prisoner of war movie, and one made in Old Hollywood, so Billy has to hint at a lot of things, but hint he does. (If you're looking for teh gay, in a camp of thousand lonely men, might I direct to Harry and Animal and the Betty Grable incident). It's a prison, so even if they are all supposed to be on the same side, there are groups and there are sides and outside of all of them is Sefton, played by William Holden, a fixer and schemer. He has a devoted sidekick but no friends, just a lot of enemies in fact, because of the ways he thinks up to "trick" the men out of their rations. He always seems to come out on top and disparages just about everything, from officers to patriotism to the war itself. It's when he mocks the men for another escape attempt, first telling them why and how it will fail and then, when it does and the escapees are killed by the guards, reminding them that he had said that all along, that he's in trouble. It becomes to everyone that there's a spy in the camp, in their barracks, and as Sefton is the most disliked, as he seems smarter than everyone else, it's pretty easy to guess who the men are going to blame. (You know, blame with their fists and feet as they are looting his belongings). Beaten and in disgrace, all his stuff gone, and even his sidekick avoiding him, Sefton decides to figure out who the real spy is and get his revenge. Meanwhile, there are all sorts of prison camp shenanigans, and a brave officer getting tortured in the camp commandant's office. He has to escape safely, possessing valuable information, but there's no chance of that with an unknown spy loose in the compound.
Of course, anyone who likes complicated heroes can tell instantly that Sefton is really the cynical asshole with a secret love for honor, nobility, and country, but that Wilder lets him remain that cynical asshole on the surface. You know Sefton's going to do right, but it's quite a long way to get there. But Billy Wilder never lets you forget that you are in a prison camp, that there's a war going on. His reminders are small, but effective, like all the small touches in the movie. The comic relief--Harry and Animal--best friends though they didn't know each other back home. Joey, a kid suffering from shell shock. The man reading mail from home finding out his wife justhad found a baby though he's been locked up for years. The German guards taunting them with information about the war going on around them that they aren't a part of. The Russian women in the camp next door that the men are constantly trying to get a look at. It's funny and sad and funny again (in a weird, almost Chaplin-like way) but with some fantastic dialogue (oh, did I mention Billy Wilder wrote it too? FANGIRL!!)
Also, and if I may be a shallow slasher, *someone* needs to slash Sefton and the brave officer. For real.
Pickup on South Street.
Now here's a strange one. It's not exactly film noir, and it's not exactly a crime movie. It was hardly a movie made with any sort of Billy Wilder type budget or star power either. And it has a lot of problems writing-wise. That being said, there's a reason that Criterion added it to their collection. It was directed by Samuel Fuller (most well known as the director of The Big Red One) and tells the story of a pickpocket named Skip McCoy, (I know I know, but it was the Fifties) who steals from the wrong girl's purse and ends up with some film that both the Soviets and the US Government is after. Only Skip is a street orphan all grown up, who's been in prison before, in fact who's just been released, and is out to avoid strike number three. He has absolutely no faith in anyone or anything except himself. So he sees no problem in selling this information to the top bidder, which would most likely be the communist agents, because the US Government will just take him and lock him away.
The reason he can't? Well the girl he stole from didn't know what she was carrying. She's a two-bit floozy, yeah, but she's not a traitor. Once she figures out she was lied to she sets out to convince Skip (or to steal it back from him, whatever comes first) to give the film up to the authorities. Her name is Candy (oh yeah) and she's played with sweaty, sexy, faded flower glory by Jean Peters (though in fact, many Hollywood actresses wanted the part, but Fuller felt that only Jean Peters looked pretty yet ordinary enough, her legs "bowed from walking the streets"...sort of a compliment, I guess). To help her we have professional police stoolie Moe (Thelma Ritter, who got a Best Supporting Actress nomination for it) who might rat out to the police, but only certain information, because she needs the money if she wants to get buried properly and not in Potter's Field. Moe, in her way, was the person who raised Skip so he could not be more surprised when even Moe can't believe that he'd consider selling the information to communists, because there are rats and there are rats.
So the communists are after him, and the police, and the government, and Candy. Self-reliant Skip has to get help from somebody, whether he wants it or not, and once he gets it, you can actually see the confusion on his face that somebody would actually help him, protect him. Richard Widmark is Skip, and surprisingly good at being a cold, smirking asshole who's just a little boy inside. Maybe it's that combination that makes Candy fall for him. Neither of them is perfect, neither of them pretend to be, even at the end of the film. They don't live in a world like that.
In fact the sets are a combination of total, despairing poverty and Hollywood fantasy. It's kind of fascinating. You get the sense that people in the audience wouldn't believe streets that dark really existed, so they have them, but it's Hollywood, so nothing too vile is ever seen directly. But Thelma Ritter, as always, is the movie-stealer as old, poor, desperate stoolie Moe. I won't describe it, but her last scene in the movie is completely heart breaking. Even the commie agent is shown as being cruel but mostly frightened, because everyone (even the cops and the government agents interestingly) have someone they have to answer to. Nobody is really free of that, not even with the...happy...ending.
Anyway, these films though radically different have a lot in common in ways that appeal to my sad, geeky heart. :)
Stalag 17
Directed by Billy Wilder (I will try to control my BILLY WILDER FANGIRLING!!!) the genius behind Sunset Boulevard and Some Like it Hot. He was a crazy, cynical European ex-pat who in his movies made the world violent and the people often small or outright vicious, but who always let them pull through at the last second with acts of surprising grace and humanity. To me, it is always like he took something completely absurd, that you know is absurd, that he knew was absurd, and then made it normal by exposing it to you in a thousand different ways. You saw what makes the absurd tick, what makes it kind of like you and then once he'd done that, he left you wanting more--and all while making you laugh, (usually anyway).
Stalag 17 is war movie. Or actually, a prisoner of war movie, and one made in Old Hollywood, so Billy has to hint at a lot of things, but hint he does. (If you're looking for teh gay, in a camp of thousand lonely men, might I direct to Harry and Animal and the Betty Grable incident). It's a prison, so even if they are all supposed to be on the same side, there are groups and there are sides and outside of all of them is Sefton, played by William Holden, a fixer and schemer. He has a devoted sidekick but no friends, just a lot of enemies in fact, because of the ways he thinks up to "trick" the men out of their rations. He always seems to come out on top and disparages just about everything, from officers to patriotism to the war itself. It's when he mocks the men for another escape attempt, first telling them why and how it will fail and then, when it does and the escapees are killed by the guards, reminding them that he had said that all along, that he's in trouble. It becomes to everyone that there's a spy in the camp, in their barracks, and as Sefton is the most disliked, as he seems smarter than everyone else, it's pretty easy to guess who the men are going to blame. (You know, blame with their fists and feet as they are looting his belongings). Beaten and in disgrace, all his stuff gone, and even his sidekick avoiding him, Sefton decides to figure out who the real spy is and get his revenge. Meanwhile, there are all sorts of prison camp shenanigans, and a brave officer getting tortured in the camp commandant's office. He has to escape safely, possessing valuable information, but there's no chance of that with an unknown spy loose in the compound.
Of course, anyone who likes complicated heroes can tell instantly that Sefton is really the cynical asshole with a secret love for honor, nobility, and country, but that Wilder lets him remain that cynical asshole on the surface. You know Sefton's going to do right, but it's quite a long way to get there. But Billy Wilder never lets you forget that you are in a prison camp, that there's a war going on. His reminders are small, but effective, like all the small touches in the movie. The comic relief--Harry and Animal--best friends though they didn't know each other back home. Joey, a kid suffering from shell shock. The man reading mail from home finding out his wife just
Also, and if I may be a shallow slasher, *someone* needs to slash Sefton and the brave officer. For real.
Pickup on South Street.
Now here's a strange one. It's not exactly film noir, and it's not exactly a crime movie. It was hardly a movie made with any sort of Billy Wilder type budget or star power either. And it has a lot of problems writing-wise. That being said, there's a reason that Criterion added it to their collection. It was directed by Samuel Fuller (most well known as the director of The Big Red One) and tells the story of a pickpocket named Skip McCoy, (I know I know, but it was the Fifties) who steals from the wrong girl's purse and ends up with some film that both the Soviets and the US Government is after. Only Skip is a street orphan all grown up, who's been in prison before, in fact who's just been released, and is out to avoid strike number three. He has absolutely no faith in anyone or anything except himself. So he sees no problem in selling this information to the top bidder, which would most likely be the communist agents, because the US Government will just take him and lock him away.
The reason he can't? Well the girl he stole from didn't know what she was carrying. She's a two-bit floozy, yeah, but she's not a traitor. Once she figures out she was lied to she sets out to convince Skip (or to steal it back from him, whatever comes first) to give the film up to the authorities. Her name is Candy (oh yeah) and she's played with sweaty, sexy, faded flower glory by Jean Peters (though in fact, many Hollywood actresses wanted the part, but Fuller felt that only Jean Peters looked pretty yet ordinary enough, her legs "bowed from walking the streets"...sort of a compliment, I guess). To help her we have professional police stoolie Moe (Thelma Ritter, who got a Best Supporting Actress nomination for it) who might rat out to the police, but only certain information, because she needs the money if she wants to get buried properly and not in Potter's Field. Moe, in her way, was the person who raised Skip so he could not be more surprised when even Moe can't believe that he'd consider selling the information to communists, because there are rats and there are rats.
So the communists are after him, and the police, and the government, and Candy. Self-reliant Skip has to get help from somebody, whether he wants it or not, and once he gets it, you can actually see the confusion on his face that somebody would actually help him, protect him. Richard Widmark is Skip, and surprisingly good at being a cold, smirking asshole who's just a little boy inside. Maybe it's that combination that makes Candy fall for him. Neither of them is perfect, neither of them pretend to be, even at the end of the film. They don't live in a world like that.
In fact the sets are a combination of total, despairing poverty and Hollywood fantasy. It's kind of fascinating. You get the sense that people in the audience wouldn't believe streets that dark really existed, so they have them, but it's Hollywood, so nothing too vile is ever seen directly. But Thelma Ritter, as always, is the movie-stealer as old, poor, desperate stoolie Moe. I won't describe it, but her last scene in the movie is completely heart breaking. Even the commie agent is shown as being cruel but mostly frightened, because everyone (even the cops and the government agents interestingly) have someone they have to answer to. Nobody is really free of that, not even with the...happy...ending.
