Film Pairing — On Everyone’s Top Ten List

Why not spend an evening – a long one at that – with two movies on just about everyone’s Top Ten List? Certainly they occupy that status among crime movies. Both films were released in the 1970s. Both were critically acclaimed and represent  two of the world’s most famous directors’ work at the top of their games.

Chinatown — Put this classic in the categories of P.I. films and film noir. A fresh-faced Jack Nicholson plays an L.A. private investigator who finds himself in in the midst of an embarrassing family sexual abuse scandal and inadvertently drawn into a battle about water in a desert in 1937. When only recently the CEO of Nestle, whose products line most of the shelves of your local supermarket, claimed water is not a human right, Chinatown proves itself a timeless reflection of the eternal struggle of greed on behalf of the powerful few versus survival of the rest. John Huston represents the ugliness of pure greed — determined to get whatever he wants at whatever the cost. Directed by Roman Polanski and released in 1974, this film also featured Faye Dunaway, James Hong and Diane Ladd. Robert Towne wrote the screenplay.

The Godfather — As I watched it for the umpteenth time I was again reminded of how much the film seemed to be a series of moving oil paintings, rather than mere moving pictures.  John A. Alonzo is credited with the astounding cinematography. He is probably the least known of the masters working together on this film.  Based on Mario Puzo’s blockbuster novel, master director Francis Ford Coppola created a film judged by the U.S. National Film Registry as one of the greatest American films of all time, exceeded only by Citizen Cane. Marlon Brando is the godfather. Al Pacino is the favored son. Both are riveting. The entire cast is stellar: James Caan, Sterling Hayden, Robert Duvall, Diane Keaton, Richard Conte, and Abe Vigoda.  Keep your eye out for other surprises, Al Martino and Morgana King, for example. The film’s story — about a major crime family unfolds over a ten-year period starting in 1945.

While Chinatown is a perfect mystery that delivers a socially conscious and powerful punch, The Godfather is delivered on a larger and richer canvas. Settle in for a classic double feature.

To accompany the long evening   (Chinatown runs more than two hours while The Godfather is nearly three), I’d suggest having a Tom Collins with Chinatown in honor of Faye Dunaway’s character.  Sip the cocktail slowly and then open a bottle of Nero D’Avola, a dry Sicilian wine, for The Godfather. Non-imbibers could do the Virgin Tom Collins, that is make the cocktail, but forget the gin.

Film Pairings — Before They Were TV Stars

Ann Sothern was “My Secretary” and starred in another popular sitcom called the “Ann Sothern Show.” Raymond Burr was “Perry Mason” and, later, “Ironside.” Lucille Ball was Lucy in the classic “I Love Lucy,” which is still in endless reruns and William Bendix was dad in an early TV show “Life of Riley.” But before television capped their careers (Ball and Burr probably couldn’t have outdone or escaped their iconic television characters), these small-screen legends were stars (lesser perhaps) on the big screen. TV’s crazy comic Lucy, was a vamp in The Dark Corner. We see lots of leg. And Burr, the upstanding Perry Mason (though Mason wasn’t quite so upstanding in the novels), was the heavy in The Blue Gardenia.

With this double feature, we are revisiting directors Henry Waxman and Fritz Lang (See Kiss of Death and The Big Heat — The Birth of Two Villains). The Dark Corner is the story of a private eye (Mark Stevens) who is trying to go straight after a stint in prison. However his shady past makes him the perfect fall guy for a murder someone else commits. William Bendix, TV’s lovable comic dad, plays an even shadier private eye and Clifton Webb is the sophisticated (witty, what else?) art dealer with a clever plan to get rid of his younger wife’s lover. The plot has enough twists and turns and talented supporting players to make this a very worthwhile film. Lucille Ball plays the secretary to the reformed P.I. and is, in fact, his backbone. There was a comic turn in her fine performance now and then, but not the broad comedy she would show the world later.

At roughly the same time Lucille Ball was making the move from film to TV, the lovely, more cynical Ann Sothern did the same, also with considerable success. Before that, she had a successful career playing the pals of the ingénues (Anne Baxter in this case). Raymond Burr in Fritz Lang’s The Blue Gardenia, is the believable womanizer and murder victim. He plies the sweet and innocent Baxter with Polynesian Pearl Divers, an umbrella’d drink of super potency. She goes home with Burr and blacks out. When Burr ends up dead, all signs point to Baxter as the murderer. Even she believes it might be true. She seeks help from newspaper columnist Richard Conte. The story isn’t as strong as The Dark Corner, but it’s a lot of fun just the same. The music is by Nelson Riddle. Nat “King” Cole has a gig in the nightclub, The Blue Gardenia. Even Superman (George Reeves) makes an appearance in the film — as the main cop. No cape. No tights.

My recommendation for the evening is to sip a bit of fine rum during the first film and then go all island with fancy rum drinks with the second. Look up such tacky Tiki rum drinks as The Virgin’s Lament or the Missionary’s Downfall. Don’t drive. Don’t commit murder.

Film Pairing — Cry Danger, The Big Combo

The two main attractions to noir, for me, are the stark, shadowy cinematography and the crisp, tough dialogue that often accompany them. Cry Danger has the banter — some of the best of the genre. The Big Combo has the photography. Maybe only Night of the Hunter catches the dark world of crime on celluloid as well.

While I was growing up I remember watching Four Star Theater. The idea was that four major stars would take turns making high-quality dramas for TV, still in its infancy. There was some confusion in the launch, but in the end the four big-screen Hollywood stars that would grace little ole network TV were Dick Powell, David Niven, Charles Boyer and Ida Lupino. For some reason I never looked forward to the Powell installment. He always struck me as an announcer-type, the emcee introducing Jack Benny. A leading man? I didn’t understand it.

What I hadn’t seen was Powell in his heyday. After Cry Danger, it’s clear I must go back and see Powell in all this early movies. He was the perfect wise-ass hero, delivering one-liners as well as anyone. The film, (1951), set in Los Angeles, is about a guy released from prison who wants to find the money he was accused and convicted of stealing. Richard Erdman is a witty, cynical alcoholic conman who becomes Powell’s best and most trusted friend. The femme fatale is Rhonda Fleming. We also see a slim, or relatively slim William Conrad play one of the bad guys. The film has guns, blond bimbos, big old Nash automobiles, and trailer courts. What else could you want?

The Big Combo, a name that unfortunately makes it sound like a special from Pizza Hut, was made a few years later in 1955. It stars Cornel Wilde, Richard Conte, Jean Wallace and Brian Donlevy, who gives the best performance of the film as an aging tough guy. Conte, as a heartless gangster, does a good mean and his destruction is police lieutenant Wilde’s obsession. As good and evil battle it out, the big star of the movie is cinematographer John Alton, who makes what little illumination there is in the film glow as if it were more spirit than light. Earl Holliman and Lee Van Cleef play minor thugs who share a bedroom. There were a few other moments that must have given the overly prudish 1950s censors pause. Then again, they may have missed the subtle, scandalous innuendoes.

Though less than clear about which big city was the setting for the Big Combo, it was definitely a big city — a Chicago or New York. Cry Danger was definitely L.A. That being the case, maybe we soften the hard liquor a bit. Maybe it’s a whiskey and soda over ice kind of thing.