Tag Archives: Nestor Paiva

Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954, Jack Arnold)

Posted on 14 September 2012 | 1 Comment

Almost all of Creature from the Black Lagoon is a compelling mix of science fiction, workplace drama and horror. The Creature makes a great “villain” because there’s nothing human about him (except maybe his fixation on leading lady Julie Adams) so it’s possible to both fear him and to understand leading man Richard Carlson’s scientific point of view.

The only place it falls apart is the finish, where the screenwriters and director Arnold feel the need for some excitement; they tack on a totally unnecessary action sequence.

The workplace drama elements are Carlson, Adams and Richard Denning (as their boss). Denning’s performance of a money hungry scientist who slowly loses it is outstanding. He sort of outdoes everyone else in the picture, except maybe Nestor Paiva. Paiva’s the captain of the ship taking these bickering ichthyologists on their exploration. The script constantly unveils something new (and unlikely) about his character, but Paiva essays it all beautifully.

As a director, Arnold embraces the exploration wonderment, juxtaposing it against the horror aspects in the picture. When the wonderment declines and the more thriller tone comes up, he does well with it too.

The film has outstanding photography from William E. Snyder and excellent music from its (uncredited) composers. The underwater photography gives it spectacle value, but Arnold and his crew make the land sections almost as good. The sets are great and the Creature’s makeup is fantastic.

Creature, thanks to Arnold, the cast and its smart script, is a rather fine film.

CREDITS

Directed by Jack Arnold; screenplay by Harry Essex and Arthur A. Ross, based on a story by Maurice Zimm; director of photography, William E. Snyder; edited by Ted J. Kent; music by Henry Mancini, Hans J. Salter and Herman Stein; produced by William Alland; released by Universal Pictures.

Starring Richard Carlson (David Reed), Julie Adams (Kay Lawrence), Richard Denning (Mark Williams), Antonio Moreno (Carl Maia), Whit Bissell (Edwin Thompson) and Nestor Paiva (Lucas).

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Posted in 1954, Adventure, Black and White, English, Horror, Sci-Fi, Universal Pictures, USA

Tagged Antonio Moreno, Arthur A. Ross, Hans J. Salter, Harry Essex, Henry Mancini, Herman Stein, Jack Arnold, Julie Adams, Maurice Zimm, Nestor Paiva, Richard Carlson, Richard Denning, Ted J. Kent, Whit Bissell, William Alland, William E. Snyder

Tarantula (1955, Jack Arnold)

Posted on 10 February 2012 | Leave a comment

Science may make monsters, but the morale of the story–according to Tarantula anyway–is the Air Force will always be there to bomb such monsters back to the Stone Age.

The problem with Tarantula is fairly simple… it’s not a movie about a giant tarantula. Oh, it might have room for one, but to make the finale all about this giant tarantula is a mistake. While the special effects are good, this ending distracts from all the better things about the film.

As for the better things–first and foremost is the relationship between small town doctor John Agar and sheriff Nestor Paiva. It’s implied the characters are friendly, but their scenes together reveal a very complicated relationship.

But there’s also the romance between Agar and Mara Corday. It’s quiet and gradual and it’s too bad Arnold didn’t have more courting scenes.

The acting in the film is all strong. Agar’s more a likable actor than a good one, but he’s still got some great deliveries. Corday’s surprisingly strong, Paiva is outstanding. Ross Elliot and Hank Patterson do well in small roles.

The acting can almost carry the film. Until the half way mark, there’s no giant tarantula, just Agar and Corday courting. But all of the action happens in the last twenty minutes. The film’s rushed, skipping over important details to finish in a timely manner.

Tarantula is good fifties science fiction. Arnold’s confident direction and the fine performances make up for the misfired ending (and bad music).

CREDITS

Directed by Jack Arnold; screenplay by Robert M. Fresco and Martin Berkeley, based on a story by Arnold and Fresco; director of photography, George Robinson; edited by William Morgan; music by Herman Stein; produced by William Alland; released by Universal Pictures.

Starring John Agar (Dr. Matt Hastings), Mara Corday (Stephanie ‘Steve’ Clayton), Leo G. Carroll (Prof. Gerald Deemer), Nestor Paiva (Sheriff Jack Andrews), Ross Elliott (Joe Burch), Edwin Rand (Lt. John Nolan), Raymond Bailey (Townsend), Hank Patterson (Josh), Bert Holland (Barney Russell) and Steve Darrell (Andy Andersen).

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Posted in 1955, Black and White, English, Horror, Sci-Fi, Universal Pictures, USA

Tagged Bert Holland, Edwin Rand, George Robinson, Hank Patterson, Herman Stein, Jack Arnold, John Agar, Leo G. Carroll, Mara Corday, Martin Berkeley, Nestor Paiva, Raymond Bailey, Robert M. Fresco, Ross Elliott, Steve Darrell, William Alland, William Morgan

A Millionaire for Christy (1951, George Marshall)

Posted on 22 August 2007 | Leave a comment

A Millionaire for Christy exemplifies why the screwball comedy doesn’t work outside it’s era without a lot of tinkering. I can’t even think of a good example of one working outside the 1930s right now, but I’m pretty sure there have been some. Maybe even recently. But Christy adapts a regular screwball comedy script for the filmmaking techniques of 1950. It shoots on location, which gives the scenes a sense of reality, which doesn’t belong. These scenes give the characters a whole lot of weight–their problems become very real, instead of celluloid. The other problem with the film in terms of attempting to remake Bringing Up Baby, only without the budget or the script, is the first act. For a ninety minute movie, Christy has a thirty minute first act. For those thirty minutes, it pretends its it’s directed by Howard Hawks, starring Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn and it is not. At the thirty-minute mark, Eleanor Parker and Fred MacMurray finally get to start acting and the film takes a visible turn for the better (much better).

A screwball comedy requires the audience to acknowledge the artifice, so even after Christy stops pretending to be Bringing Up Baby, it still has those genuine shooting locations working against it. The film recovers for a couple reasons–three, actually. Parker, MacMurray, and Richard Carlson. Parker and MacMurray have real chemistry and Parker’s excellent once her character has more depth than reluctant gold-digger. MacMurray’s performance is pretty superficial, except in the romantic scenes with Parker, which pull the whole film together. Carlson, as MacMurray’s fiancee’s jilted boyfriend, is fantastic throughout, even during that lame first thirty. When he and Parker team up to break up MacMurray’s engagement, there’s plenty for him to do. There’s a standout scene with he and Parker getting drunk. Carlson not having done more comedies is unfortunate for the genre.

George Marshall, who did lots of films and lots of good ones (he directed Destry Rides Again), suffocates under the location shooting. There’s a lot of standard screwball comedy moments-and Marshall turns them into material for a dark film noir about a man kidnapping a woman in broad daylight, assaulting photographers–the scenes aren’t funny, they’re disturbing. Certain scenes are meant to be done with that aforementioned artifice. Without it, the scenes play wrong.

Given that long first act, the resolution is really hurried, but it is where some of Christy‘s more original moments play out, if only because there’s only three minutes to finish the picture. Another affecting part of the film is Carlson’s psychiatrist’s real concern for poor people with mental illnesses. It’s a serious subject and when it comes up during Carlson’s fantastic drunk sense, it fosters a resentment of the film for being superfluous, not just this one, but the medium in general. It’s off-putting and it’s hard for the scene to recover after it… and when it does, it’s only because of Carlson and Parker’s acting.

Also, the title is a bit of a misdirection. Parker’s Christabel is only called Christy once in the whole film, but it also suggests it’s a search for a millionaire, the other side of Seven Chances perhaps. But still, it’s worthwhile for Parker, Carlson, and MacMurray when he’s with Parker–not to mention as an example of location shooting’s effect on filmic storytelling.

CREDITS

Directed by George Marshall; screenplay by Ken Englund, based on a story by Robert Harari; director of photography, Harry Stradling Sr.; edited by Daniel Mandell; music by David Chudnow and Victor Young; produced by Bert E. Friedlob; released by 20th Century Fox.

Starring Fred MacMurray (Peter Ulysses Lockwood), Eleanor Parker (Christabel ‘Christy’ Sloane), Richard Carlson (Dr. Roland Cook), Kay Buckley (June Chandler), Una Merkel (Patsy Clifford), Douglass Dumbrille (A.K. Thompson), Raymond Greenleaf (Benjamin Chandler) and Nestor Paiva (Mr. Rapello).