Tag: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer

Willow (1988, Ron Howard)

I wonder if Willow’s lack of popularity has anything to do with the protagonist not fitting the regular sci-fi and fantasy and magic standard. Not because Warwick Davis is a dwarf, but because his character is so non-traditional. He’s not an idealistic youth, or a hidden prince… he’s a farmer with a wife, two kids and money problems. He’s some normal guy. It (along with the physical characteristics) block some of the idealizing.

Unrelated, Willow’s not very good. There’s a lot of blame to go around and, if the film weren’t from George Lucas’s conception, the responsibility would fall on screenwriter Bob Dolman. The dialogue is bad and he doesn’t have many good characters (only three, in fact). He doesn’t have any good villains—actually, they’re all quiet bad—and the action is poorly spread out. The biggest action sequence comes before the finale.

However, it’s a Lucas production (and he’s credited with the story), so I imagine many of those problems are Lucas’s fault.

But director Ron Howard isn’t without reproach. His composition is okay, but his direction of actors is terrible. He’s lucky to have Val Kilmer (in the Han Solo part) because Kilmer’s at least able to have fun without direction. Joanne Whalley is good (before she disappears) and Jean Marsh is an effective villain. But the acting’s otherwise mediocre or lame.

Another problem is the special effects. They’re too ambitious for composite shots, even with masterful stop motion.

Still, Willow’s not an abject failure.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Ron Howard; screenplay by Bob Dolman, based on a story by George Lucas; director of photography, Adrian Biddle; edited by Daniel P. Hanley, Mike Hill and Richard Hiscott; music by James Horner; production designer, Allan Cameron; produced by Nigel Wooll; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

Starring Warwick Davis (Willow Ufgood), Val Kilmer (Madmartigan), Joanne Whalley (Sorsha), Jean Marsh (Queen Bavmorda), Patricia Hayes (Fin Raziel), Billy Barty (High Aldwin), Pat Roach (Gen. Kael), Gavan O’Herlihy (Airk Thaughbaer), Kevin Pollak (Rool), Rick Overton (Franjean), David Steinberg (Meegosh), Mark Northover (Burglekutt), Phil Fondacaro (Vohnkar) and Julie Peters (Kiaya Ufgood).

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Magical Maestro (1952, Tex Avery)

I had read Magical Maestro was controversial and it took me quite a while, watching it, to release why it had that reputation.

There’s a montage of an irate magician turning an opera singing bulldog into various singing stereotypes. There’s a cowboy, there’s a redneck, there’s a baby… then an angry audience member squirts ink on the bulldog’s face and it’s blackface.

And at that point, I realized the earlier Chinese transformation would offend too (but that transformation is the only one where the bulldog is singing the opera as opposed to a stereotype appropriate one).

It’s a lovely little cartoon. There aren’t a lot of shots, not a lot of action, but it’s a hilarious cartoon set to good music.

The redneck caricature is probably the most shocking one. Maybe because it’s the only accurate one of them.

Regardless of any “controversy,” Tex Avery does absolutely brilliant work here.

2/3Recommended

CREDITS

Directed by Tex Avery; written by Rich Hogan; animated by Walt Clinton, Michael Lah and Grant Simmons; music by Scott Bradley; produced by Fred Quimby; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

Starring Daws Butler (Mysto the Magician) and Carlos Ramírez (The Great Poochini).

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Once Upon a Crime (1992, Eugene Levy)

To sum up Levy’s direction, although Once Upon a Crime filmed entirely on location in Europe, the whole thing feels vaguely Canadian. Or, to put it another way, it’s hard to believe anyone footed Jim Belushi’s airfare to Monte Carlo to film this one.

But Levy’s only a mediocre director, the casting is the real problem. Belushi’s awful and so is Richard Lewis. The joke of the screenplay is the men are always weaker than their women, whether it’s Belushi and Cybill Shepherd (who’s okay), Lewis and Sean Young (who’s good), John Candy and Ornella Muti (more on them in a bit), or even the butler and maid (Geoffrey Andrews and Ann Way). The only subtle part in the film is this repeated power dynamic.

Maybe Levy missed it. He was too busy letting Belushi fail at acting a moron. Now, the script isn’t genius dialogue by any means, but it’s not terrible. Lewis is doing his stand-up (he’s even in his trench coat) and it doesn’t work. But Belushi simply can’t act. In the scenes opposite Candy, when Levy’s going for something out of a screwball comedy, it’s a perfect example of Candy’s ability and Belushi’s lack of it. Candy makes it work, all of it. Belushi drags every scene.

Muti’s good as Candy’s suffering wife; their scenes together are a highpoint.

The best performance is Giancarlo Giannini as the police inspector investigating the surprisingly engaging mystery.

Once Upon a Crime is a bad film, but not entirely.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Eugene Levy; screenplay by Charles Shyer, Nancy Meyers and Steve Kluger, based on an earlier screenplay by Rodolfo Sonego, Giorgio Arlorio, Stefano Strucchi and Luciano Vincenzoni and a story by Sonego; director of photography, Giuseppe Rotunno; edited by Patrick Kennedy; music by Richard Gibbs; production designer, Pier Luigi Basile; produced by Dino De Laurentiis; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

Starring John Candy (Augie Morosco), James Belushi (Neil Schwary), Cybill Shepherd (Marilyn Schwary), Sean Young (Phoebe), Richard Lewis (Julian Peters), Ornella Muti (Elena Morosco), Giancarlo Giannini (Inspector Bonnard), George Hamilton (Alfonso de la Pena), Roberto Sbaratto (Detective Toussaint), Joss Ackland (Hercules Popodopoulos), Ann Way (Housekeeper) and Geoffrey Andrews (Butler).

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  • OTHER 1992 RELEASES

    • The Goose Goes South (1941, William Hanna and Joseph Barbera)

    There aren’t any real gags in The Goose Goes South until the finish. And that gag is sort of predictable.

    The cartoon concerns a goose who can’t fly and therefore has to find other ways south for the winter. The uncredited narrator explains the goose’s problem and describes some of his adventures.

    But The Goose Goes South is really—for the most part—just an excuse to make fun of the South. Whether it’s inbred “hillbillies,” the cartoon’s term, or a moonshiner—or even two Southern gentlemen who prove the most moronic—the cartoon’s constantly slinging mud at the South.

    And it’s funny.

    Hanna and Barbera’s direction isn’t exactly inspired, but the animation is all solid. The locations don’t change much, but when they do—the first scene and last—they look quite good.

    Goes South moves very fast, probably because of the narration, and it’s a pleasant, slight diversion.

    2/3Recommended

    CREDITS

    Directed by William Hanna and Joseph Barbera; animated by Ed Barge, Pete Burness and Irven Spence; music by Scott Bradley; produced by Fred Quimby; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

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    Readin’ and Writin’ (1932, Robert F. McGowan)

    Readin’ and Writin’ opens on an incredibly unrealistic note–teacher June Marlowe is looking forward to the school year starting. Even ignoring the worst students in the bunch, none of them are sweet or nice.

    But Marlowe (and the class) have to contend with Kendall McComas’s troublemaker, who’s trying to get expelled on his first day. Apparently, McComas’s little psychopath is supposed to be funny; too bad the writing and acting don’t make him so.

    McComas and Marlowe are simply weak actors. McComas at least has a schtick. He talks like he’s in a gangster movie. Marlowe is just bad. McGowan must not have spent any time directing the adults, just the kids.

    McGowan’s direction is pretty good. He can’t make the short move fast enough though–it’s mostly McComas plotting his various assaults.

    The conclusion has a weird, awesomely out of place voiceover sequence. It almost makes it worthwhile.

    1/3Not Recommended

    CREDITS

    Directed by Robert F. McGowan; written by H.M. Walker; director of photography, Art Lloyd; edited by Richard C. Currier; produced by McGowan and Hal Roach; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

    Starring Kendall McComas (Breezy Brisbane), Matthew ‘Stymie’ Beard (Stymie), Sherwood Bailey (Spud), Bobby ‘Wheezer’ Hutchins (Wheezer), Dorothy DeBorba (Dorothy), Carlena Beard (Marmalade), June Marlowe (Miss June Crabtree), Harry Bernard (The fruit vendor), Otto Fries (The blacksmith), Donald Haines (Speck), Lyle Tayo (Breezy’s mother) and May Wallace (Wheezer’s mother).

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    Screwball Squirrel (1944, Tex Avery)

    Screwball Squirrel opens with the protagonist mocking a Disney-like cartoon squirrel and sending him packing. The Disney-like squirrel sounds and looks enough like Thumper from Bambi I forgot Thumper was a rabbit. This moment establishes the cartoon—because the protagonist, the never named Screwy Squirrel, is mocking the cute squirrel to the audience.

    Avery doesn’t do a whole lot with breaking the fourth wall—I think there are three or four big gags with it, not including the opening—but doing it immediately sets the cartoon up in that vein.

    The majority of the cartoon is Screwy Squirrel tormenting a bird dog. One of the frequent jokes is how stupid the dog behaves. Screwy Squirrel’s not likable, he’s just not an idiot.

    The cartoon ends on a reveal; it’s a pointless one… but leads to a funny moment.

    Avery understands what he’s playing with and it all works.

    2/3Recommended

    CREDITS

    Directed by Tex Avery; written by Heck Allen; animated by Preston Blair, Ed Love and Ray Abrams; music by Scott Bradley; produced by Fred Quimby; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

    Starring Wally Maher (Screwy Squirrel) and Dick Nelson (Meathead)

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    A Night at the Movies (1937, Roy Rowland)

    A Night at the Movies opens with Robert Benchley in a domestic situation (Betty Ross Clarke does a fine job playing his wife). They’re trying to figure out what movie to go see. It’s a gently amusing scene—each has seen movies without the other so they’re trying to agree on an unseen one. It’s almost more interesting in a historical sense—did people really see so many movies or is Movies just, you know, advertising going to the movies.

    But then they get to the theater and it takes a turn. The humor’s more absurdist (but still realistic), with Clarke now the wife whose husband can’t stop embarrassing himself in public. It’s incredibly funny—Benchley’s great, bumbling but still sympathetic amid the rude theater employees and moviegoers.

    Rowland does a great job with composition, but the editing lacks any rhythm.

    Benchley’s grounding makes the short’s outlandish final joke work.

    2/3Recommended

    CREDITS

    Directed by Roy Rowland; written by Robert Benchley, Robert Lees and Frederic I. Rinaldo; produced by Jack Chertok; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

    Starring Robert Benchley (Husband) and Betty Ross Clarke (Wife).

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    Balloon Land (1935, Ub Iwerks)

    For lack of a better word, Balloon Land is disturbed. It’s a cartoon about a magical place where everyone is a living balloon. Not just people, but plants too. Objects are solid though.

    The new balloon people–Iwerks opens showing the reproductive process–are made through one creature’s snot and then inflated. We later learn balloons can be made but not immediately inflated and the snot can also be used as a gooey weapon.

    It’s a happy place with a happy song, except outside the gate there’s the Pincushion Man, who murders balloon people with his infinite pin supply. Since he’s been cast out, he’s had to settle for killing the balloon plant life.

    Two newborns head out of the protected area and piss him off and Balloon Land‘s narrative gets underway.

    The animation’s fine and all that, but it’s a freaky cartoon once one gives it any thought.

    2/3Recommended

    CREDITS

    Produced and directed by Ub Iwerks; music by Carl W. Stalling; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

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    How to Sleep (1935, Nick Grinde)

    How to Sleep isn’t just a funny little short featuring a man who can’t get to sleep, mostly because he keeps doing stupid things, but it’s also an interesting look at how a personality works on film.

    Robert Benchley wrote the film, he hosts the bookends as though it’s a serious scientific exploration and he appears as the model sleeper. During the tossing and turning and snack eating and so on, Benchley comments on his own actions. However, he’s not commenting in the first person, but in the third—the narrator and the protagonist, though played by the same person, are different characters.

    The barrier breaks when the protagonist starts yelling at the narrator. But more amusing is the narrator’s charge the protagonist is only having so many problems because he drinks so much—something the audience never sees and has to take the narrator’s word for….

    It’s rather smart.

    2/3Recommended

    CREDITS

    Directed by Nick Grinde; written by Robert Benchley; produced by Jack Chertok; produced by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

    Starring Robert Benchley.

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    The Face Behind the Mask (1938, Jacques Tourneur)

    Until seeing The Face Behind the Mask, I had no idea there really was a mystery man in an iron mask. I’ve seen at least two of the movie adaptations, maybe three, and am aware of the source novel… I just had no idea it was based in some kind of fact.

    MGM calls the short a “historical mystery;” the narrator tells the story as the action plays out, in summary. Sometimes the narration directly affects the action, which is disconcerting. It’s not a bad approach for a non-fiction narrative and the short is well-produced.

    Tourneur’s finest sequence is when the prisoner is taken to prison. The actors interact with the sets instead of pose as they later do, when the narrator has to introduce them.

    It’s a mildly amusing short, with Tourneur really making the time count. Face imparts a lot of information in a short time.

    2/3Recommended

    CREDITS

    Directed by Jacques Tourneur; written by Milton Gunzburg; director of photography, Paul Vogel; produced by Jack Chertok; released by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.

    Narrated by John Nesbitt.

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