Showing posts with label William A. Wellman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William A. Wellman. Show all posts

Monday, 2 September 2019

The Story of G.I. Joe
Dir: William A. Wellman
1945
****
Directed by the great William Wellman, The Story of G.I. Joe is one of the few American World War II films actually made during the war with real gravitas and grit. It’s hard to imagine that Robert Mitchum only received one Oscar nomination during his career but it was well deserved here, indeed the film was nominated for four in total. It’s a cracking war film with brilliant performances from a fantastic cast but it is also surrounded with great sadness. The story is a tribute to the American infantryman (known as G.I. Joes), told through the eyes of Pulitzer Prize-winning war correspondent Ernie Pyle (played and narrated by the wonderful Burgess Meredith), with dialogue and narration lifted from Pyle's columns. The film concentrates on one company, (C Company, 18th Infantry), that Pyle accompanies into combat in Tunisia and Italy. The friendships that grow out of his coverage led Pyle to relate the misery and sacrifice inherent in their plight and their heroic endurance of it. Although the company has the designation of an actual unit, that unit did not participate in the combat in Italy that makes up the preponderance of the film, and actually stands in for the units of the 34th and 36th Infantry Divisions that Pyle did cover in Italy. The film begins as we see the untested infantrymen of C Company as they board trucks headed to the front for the first time. Lt. Bill Walker (Mitchum) allows war correspondent Ernie Pyle (Meredith), himself a rookie to combat, to hitch a ride with the company. Ernie surprises Walker and the rest of the men by deciding to go with them all the way to the front lines. Just getting to the front through the rain and mud is an arduous task, but the diminutive, forty-two-year-old Ernie manages to keep up. Ernie gets to know the men whose paths he will cross and write about again and again in the next year. Among them are Private Robert "Wingless" Murphy, a good-natured man who was rejected by the Air Corps for being too tall; Private Dondaro, an Italian-American from Brooklyn whose mind is always on women and conniving to be with one; Sergeant Warnicki, who misses the young son he has never seen and Private Mew, from Brownsville, Texas, who has no family back home but finds one in the outfit, exemplified by his naming beneficiaries for his G.I. life insurance among them. Their "baptism of fire" is at the Battle of Kasserine Pass, a bloody chaotic defeat. Ernie is present at battalion headquarters when Lieutenant Walker arrives as a runner for his company commander; Walker has already become an always tired, seemingly emotionless, and grimy soldier. Ernie and the company go their separate ways, but months later he seeks them out, confessing that, as the first outfit he ever covered, they are in his mind the best outfit in the army. He finds them on a road in Italy, about to attack a German-held town, just as the soldiers are elated or disappointed at "mail call": letters for Murphy and Dondaro, a package with a phonograph record of his son's voice for Warnicki, but nothing for now Captain Walker. Ernie finds that Company C has become very proficient at killing without remorse. In house-to-house combat, they capture the town. Fatigue, however, is an always present but never conquerable enemy. When arrangements are made for Wingless Murphy to marry "Red", his Army nurse fiancée, in the town they have just captured, Ernie is recruited to give the bride away, but can barely keep awake. The company advances to a position in front of Monte Cassino, but, unable to advance, they are soon reduced to a life of living in caves dug in the ground, enduring persistent rain and mud, conducting endless patrols and subjected to savage artillery barrages. When his men are forced to eat cold rations for Christmas dinner, Walker obtains turkey and cranberry sauce for them from a rear echelon supply lieutenant at gunpoint. Casualties are heavy: young replacements are quickly killed before they can learn the tricks of survival in combat (which Walker confesses to Ernie makes him feel like a murderer), Walker is always short of lieutenants, and the veterans lose men, including Wingless Murphy. After a night patrol to capture a prisoner, Warnicki suffers a nervous breakdown when, finally hearing his son's voice on the record, his pent up frustrations at the war are released. Walker sadly directs the others to subdue the hysterical sergeant and sends him to the infirmary. Ernie returns to the correspondents' quarters to write a piece on Murphy's death and is told by his fellow reporters that he has won the Pulitzer Prize for his combat reporting. Ernie again catches up with the outfit on the side of the road to Rome after Cassino has finally been taken. He greets Mew and a few of the old hands, but the pleasant reunion is interrupted when a string of mules is led into their midst, each carrying the dead body of a G.I. to be gently placed on the ground. A final mule, led by Dondaro, bears the body of Captain Walker. One by one, the old hands reluctantly come forth to express their grief in the presence of Walker's corpse. "Then the first man squatted down, and he reached down and took the dead hand, and he sat there for a full five minutes, holding the dead hand in his own and looking intently into the dead face, and he never uttered a sound all the time he sat there. And finally he put the hand down, and then reached up and gently straightened the points of the captain’s shirt collar, and then he sort of rearranged the tattered edges of his uniform around the wound. And then he got up and walked away down the road, all alone." Ernie joins the company as it goes down the road, narrating its conclusion: "For those beneath the wooden crosses, there is nothing we can do, except perhaps to pause and murmur, 'Thanks pal, thanks.'" Casting of the role of Ernie Pyle began in June 1944, after speculation about the role brought forth a large number of names as possibilities to producer Lester Cowan. Pyle was seen by Americans as part saint, part seer, and part common man, and himself pleaded with a fellow correspondent, headed to Hollywood to contribute to the storyline: "For God's sake, don't let them make me look like a fool.” The choice narrowed down quickly to three character actors resembling Pyle or his perceived persona: James Gleason, Walter Brennan, and Meredith, who was then little-known and serving as a captain in the Army. Meredith was chosen because he was lesser known. Cowan was advised that if Capt. Meredith appeared in the film, all profits would have to be donated to the Army Emergency Relief Fund, and the Army refused to release him from active duty. According to Meredith, the Army was overruled by presidential adviser Harry Hopkins, and his honorable discharge from the Army was approved personally by General George C. Marshall. Meredith himself spent time with Pyle while the correspondent recuperated in New Mexico from the emotional after effects of surviving an accidental bombing by the Army Air Forces at the start of Operation Cobra in Normandy. Although filmed with the cooperation of Pyle, the film premiered two months to the day after he was killed in action on Ie Shima during the invasion of Okinawa. In his February 14, 1945, posting entitled "In the Movies", Pyle commented: "They are still calling it The Story of G.I. Joe. I never did like the title, but nobody could think of a better one, and I was too lazy to try." Most of the extras were actual GIs in the process of being transferred from the war in Europe to the Pacific. Many of them were killed in the fighting on Okinawa alongside Pyle never having seen the movie in which they appeared. It’s a great film full of sadness. It feels incredibly real because it is real, the actors were solders and the war happening behind them really was the war. It’s incredible when you think about it, a great old-school Hollywood war film and a historical document at the same time. An incredible film.

Friday, 4 January 2019

Beau Geste
Dir: William A. Wellman
1939
*****
If you are a fan of adventure, swash and buckle, then look no further. Although made in 1939, I’ve always felt there was something remarkably timeless about William A. Wellman’s Beau Geste. Based on the 1924 novel by P.C. Wren and adapted by Robert Carson, the film follows three brothers as they join the French Foreign Legion. Indeed, the only thing that dates the film is the desire to sign up for such a thing but the idea of adventure is something that almost everyone can relate to. The performances are wonderful and the adventure is thrilling. In this respect it as good as the other great films of the era. For me though, what makes it greater is the ongoing mystery at the heart of the story and the structure of it’s time-frame. People praise Quentin Tarantino for the use of nonlinear timelines within his films but Beau Geste did it best twenty-four years before he was even born (and fifty-three years before Reservoir Dogs). The film begins as a group of French Foreign Legionnaires approach an isolated fort in the desert. The suspense is instant and intense). The French flag is flying, but a closer inspection reveals only dead men propped up behind the parapets with guns in their hands to give the illusion they’re ready in case of attack. However a single shot is fired from inside, and the bugler volunteers to scale the wall to investigate. After waiting a while, the commander then follows. He finds two bodies that are not staged like the rest and a note on one confessing to the theft of a valuable sapphire called the "Blue Water". After the officer rejoins his men outside, the fort goes up in flames and the bugler is nowhere to be found. Fifteen years earlier, Lady Brandon (Heather Thatcher), wife of absent spendthrift Sir Hector Brandon, takes care of the three adopted Geste brothers, "Beau" (Gary Cooper), Digby (Robert Preston) and John (Ray Milland); her ward Isobel Rivers (Susan Hayward); and heir Augustus Brandon. Years pass, and the children become young adults. They learn that Sir Hector intends to sell the "Blue Water", leaving nothing of value for Lady Brandon. At Beau's request, the gem is brought out for one last look when suddenly the lights go out and it is stolen. All present proclaim their innocence, but first Beau and then Digby depart without warning, each leaving a confession that he committed the robbery. John reluctantly parts from his beloved Isobel and goes after his brothers. John discovers that they have joined the French Foreign Legion, so he enlists as well. They are trained by the sadistic Sergeant Markoff (Brian Donlevy). Legionnaire Rasinoff (J. Carrol Naish) overhears joking remarks by the Geste brothers, leading him and Markoff to believe that Beau has the gem. Markoff separates the brothers. Beau and John are assigned to a detachment sent to man isolated Fort Zinderneuf. When Lieutenant Martin dies from a fever, Markoff assumes command. Fearing the sergeant's now-unchecked brutality, Schwartz (Albert Dekker) incites the other men to mutiny the next morning; only Beau, John, and Maris (Stanley Andrews) refuse to take part. However, Markoff is tipped off by Voisin (Harold Huber) and disarms the would-be mutineers while they are sleeping. The next morning, Markoff orders Beau and John to execute the ringleaders, but they refuse. Before Markoff can react, the fort is attacked by Arabs, forcing him to rearm his men. The initial assault is beaten off, but each new attack takes its toll. Markoff props up the corpses at their posts to deceive the enemy. The final assault is repulsed, but Beau is shot, leaving Markoff and John the only men left standing. Markoff sends John to get bread and wine. He then searches Beau and finds a small pouch and two letters. When John sees what Markoff has done, he draws his bayonet, giving Markoff the excuse to shoot the only witness to his theft. However, Beau is not yet dead and manages to spoil Markoff's aim, allowing John to stab him. John and Beau hear a bugle announcing the arrival of reinforcements, Digby among them. Beau dies in his brother's arms after telling him to take one of the letters to Lady Brandon and leave the other, a confession of the robbery, in Markoff's hand. John escapes unseen. Digby, the bugler seen in the opening scene, volunteers to find out why there is no response from the fort. He discovers Beau's body and, remembering his childhood wish, gives him a Viking funeral. He places Beau on a cot, with a "dog" (Markoff) at his feet, and sets fire to the barracks. Then he too deserts. He finds John outside the fort. Later, they encounter two American Legionnaire friends (Broderick Crawford and Charles Barton) and begin the long journey home. Desperate for water, they find an oasis, but it is occupied by Arabs. Digby tricks them into fleeing by sounding a bugle to signal a charge by non-existent Legionnaires, but is killed by a parting shot. John returns home. Lady Brandon reads aloud Beau's letter, which reveals that he stole the gem because he knew it was a fake. Lady Brandon had sold the real one years before, and Beau wanted to protect her. As a child, he was hiding in a suit of armor and witnessed the transaction as seen in an earlier scene. The big mystery is finally answered and John settled down with Isobel. Gary Cooper is perfect in the lead role, even though he was a little too old for his character. Robert Preston was great also as Digby Geste but I thought Ray Milland was miles ahead in his acting abilities. However, it is Brian Donlevy who steals the show as the infamous Sergeant Markoff. The scene where the few remaining solders left in the fort are forced by Markoff to laugh at their enemy has to be one of the greatest moments in cinema history. It has everything anyone could want from a movie-going experience. It doesn’t feel right watching it on a television screen, no matter how big it is. Everything about the film is epic, from the big visuals to the dramatic score. It might just be the perfect film.

Thursday, 27 September 2018

Track of the Cat
Dir: William A. Wellman
1954
***
After adapting Walter Van Tilburg Clark’s adventure novel The Ox-Bow Incident in 1943, director William A. Wellman decided to shoot the authors other great story Track of the Cat with long time collaborator Robert Mitchum. John Wayne, star of The Ox-Bow Incident, decided to produce the film with Robert Fellows for their Wayne/Fellows production company. While there are glaring issues with the film as a whole, I have to say I was impressed with the brilliant script that struck me instantly. The film begins as we see three brother woken my the sound of screaming cattle. The Bridges family is experiencing a harsh winter on their remote ranch in northern California in the early years of the 20th century. Crude and quarrelsome middle brother Curt (Robert Mitchum) bullies his noble, unselfish eldest brother Arthur (William Hopper), while youngest brother Harold (Tab Hunter) endures Curt’s abuse in browbeaten silence. Their mother (Beulah Bondi) is a bigoted religious zealot and their father (Philip Tonge) is a loquacious, self-pitying drunk. Bitter old maid sister Grace (Teresa Wright) is temporarily gladdened by the arrival of Harold’s fiancé, spirited Gwen (Diana Lynn). As the brothers dress for breakfast before checking on their cattle, their ancient Native American hired hand Joe Sam (Carl Switzer) alerts the family that the cattle are being attacked by a black panther prowling the hills. Many years before his family was wiped out by a panther. Joe Sam’s superstitious dread of the panther irritates domineering Curt. Curt and Arthur split up to track the panther while the family tensely awaits their return. Gentle Harold tries to avoid conflict with his parents while Gwen tenderly encourages him to assert his claim to an equal share of the ranch. Although Grace tries to support her youngest brother and his fiancé, Ma Bridges spews hateful suspicion at Gwen, but she ignores the family’s histrionics calmly for Harold’s sake. Meanwhile Arthur and Curt are deep in the wilderness when the panther attacks. The two have split up to cover more ground and when Curt discovers Arthur’s horse alone he suspects the worse. His fears are realised when he discovers Arthur's body – the panther had attacked him before he could get raise his gun. Curt suspects that Arthur’s cow-print coat may have attracted the big cat so he swaps his red coat with his body, straps him to his horse and sends the horse home. When the horse arrives the family are openly relieved that it is Curt and not Arthur – until they realise it is Arthur, and he is dead. The family then deal with the death of the only family member who kept them together, each one of them finding their own individual way to morn or to forget. Curt, alone and without provisions, is left to fend for himself, now obsessed with coming face to face with the panther that killed his brother. By the end of the story, the major conflicts have been resolved, but not without tragedy and loss. The remaining characters seem hopeful that their ordeal may have created the basis for a happier future. The outdoor scenes were filmed on Mount Rainier, Washington and Mitchum regarded shooting in the deep snow and cold as the worst filming conditions he had ever experienced. Wellman had always intended to film a black & white movie in color. His idea was that if a movie were to be shot in mostly monochromatic shades, with stark blacks and whites and otherwise mostly very subdued colours that were almost shades of grey, he could use bright colors very sparingly for intense dramatic effect. The photography of William Clothier was designed to highlight black and white and downplay colors. Only key elements like the blue matches, the fire, and Mitchum's red coat stand out extremely well and the technique is very effective but at times the film is a little too stark. That said, it is a bleak story, so it suits it well. I found the film as a whole to be a little too melodramatic and the contrast between brilliant performance and over acting was something of a distraction. Why on earth they cast twenty-six year old Carl Switzer, child star of The Little Rascals (and Our Gang as it was originally named), as the elderly Native American Joe Sam is anyone’s guess. The make up is okay I suppose but seriously, they couldn’t have found a real Native American or an old man? Philip Tonge’s performance as a drunk was good for most of the film but I don’t think his script was up to much, his depiction of a drunk walking up stairs however is probably the most convincing I have ever seen. Unsurprisingly though, Robert Mitchum steals the show. Mitchum plays a good villein but Carl is a totally different bad guy to what he had played before. He is a bully and an antagonist but he is a provider and protector. I wonder whether he was an influence on Paul Newman’s Hud. The biggest problem with the film was later addressed by Wellman himself when he admitted that it had been a huge mistake not to have shown the panther at all in the film. There is no terror or intrigue when there should be and if you are never going to show the thing that is most integral to the film’s plot, then you have to build suspense around it and film it right, otherwise the actors just look foolish. It’s a great alternative western but it could have been a lot greater with only a few tweaks.

Monday, 3 April 2017

Magic Town
Dir: William A. Wellman
1947
***
William A. Wellman's 1947 Magic Town was a flop at the box office and lost a record amount of money for RKO Radio Pictures, not because it's bad, but more so because of its content. 1947 was a big year for noir thrillers, directors such as Delmer Daves, Bincent Sherman and Elia Kazan were churning out two films a year and it had strong competition from films such as The Secret Life of Walter Mitty and The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer. Films were about crimes of passion, there were fantasy dramas and screwball comedies were doing well. A film about public opinion polling, based on the Middletown studies (sociological case studies of the City of Muncie in Indiana) of the late 20s, just didn't appeal to the majority of the country (if only it had been a question during the Middletown studies!). The fact of the matter is, it was seen as a bit boring, which is very unfair, if anything you could say the film sounded far too interesting, as the audience were after a bit of escapism on an evening out to the pictures. Magic Town is clever and beautifully written, with a script to die for. It's quick-witted, intelligently ironic and stacked full of charm. I would argue that it was one of James Stewart's better and most underrated performances and Ned Sparks is brilliant as his dead-pan, deep voices side-kick Ike who somehow manages to keep a giant cigar in his mouth and speak clearly for the duration of the film. Stewart plays an ex-basketball player who now owns a consumer survey company and thinks he has found a winning formula to perform the perfect survey. Thanks to an old buddy, he finds a small town that is almost a complete miniature of the country in terms of demographic, however, a rival company are due to release what they suggest is a definitive study, so it is a race against time to publish their findings. They arrive in the town of Grandview and pose as insurance salesmen. They slowly manage to gain the townsfolk's trust and they integrate themselves into town life. When Stewart's character falls for a newspaper writer Mary (Jane Wyman) he loses focus on his main objective and lets it slip what his intentions are and soon who he really is and what he's up to is revealed to the town and is front page news. Mary, believing she has got revenge, suddenly realizes that both have lost out, as the townsfolk look to profit from the revelation of their town and soon the data collected is next to useless. However, the couple soon realize that their love for each other is worth more and Stewart comes to the conclusion that town life is the life for him. It's sweet and innocent but the reaction of the town following the revelation that they are "the public opinion capital of the US" is quite revealing of the era. In the story, the media eventually lose interest in the town when the data published suggests the majority of its inhabitants would like to see a female President, which is seen as so utterly ridiculous the whole situation is laughed off. It may be true, I don't know, but it is a sad reflection of the film, if not the time, which makes the whole thing slightly less attractive than it had been up to that point. Overall all though, it's an overlooked film, full of charm and worth much more credit than it has been given.