celluloid heroes

I have been watching Turner Classic Movies pretty much since its inception in 1994. On April 14 of that year, Turner Classic Movies (TCM) broadcast the 1939 epic Gone with the Wind as a fitting debut into the world of classic cinema. From that point forward, the cable channel has shown thousands of Hollywood's beloved films, as well as numerous examples of forgotten features. Of course, there are films that enjoy regular showings, based on perennial popularity and fan feedback. Stand-bys like Casablanca, Some Like It Hot and Citizen Kane are shown often. Very often. Popular actors are seen in some of their popular and less-than-popular films, offering viewers an interesting glimpse into the high and lows of a particular performer's career.

What is intriguing about TCM is how many young fans are regular watchers. Considering the overwhelming majority of the films they show are from before 1955, you'd think there would be exclusive appeal to those who are more than a few years into collecting Social Security. But that, apparently, is not true. There are an awful lot of fans that are many years my junior. (I am almost 59.) They are passionate about films that were produced when their grandparents were kids. They are enamored by actors who passed away decades before they entered kindergarten. 

As it gained popularity, TCM began to branch out. In 2010, the first annual TCM Film Festival was presented in Hollywood. The four-day event was hosted by Grauman's Chinese Theater and Grauman's Egyptian Theater, where some of the most-beloved of Hollywood's films were screened for attendees as though it was a religious service. The event drew more and more folks with each subsequent year. During each year's festivities, attendees were interviewed. They were usually dressed in some period clothing that reflected their favorite era of cinema. Twenty-somethings sporting styles that predated their parents presented an interesting, if not anachronistic picture. These fans gushed with delight as they spoke about movies — all movies — like they were their children. Not just the famous movies, but many obscure films starring long-forgotten actors. Actually,  it seemed like they loved every movie, as long as TCM deemed it "classic".... or at least "old."

I love movies and I love interesting tidbits about movies, but I wouldn't classify myself as a "film buff." There are a lot of famous movies that I haven't seen and there are a lot of famous movies that I have seen but don't like. And while I'm "true confessing," there are some very beloved actors that I don't care for at all. A majority of TCM devotees treat all movies from the so-called "Golden Age of Hollywood" as indisputably perfect and required viewing for everyone. And everyone must love each and every one of them.

Recently, I watched three movies on TCM. I came to these movies in different ways, including indirect recommendations and "why have I never seen this?" All three star famous actors, but not necessarily their most famous role. The first was The Hatchet Man, a 1932 pre-Hays Code film. The Hatchet Man is a cringe-worthy seventy-five minutes that shows Hollywood at its racist and demeaning best. It stars Edward G. Robinson, fresh from his star-making turn in the gangster tale Little Caesar. The cast also features 19-year-old Loretta Young and a slew of English actors. The problem is that The Hatchet Man is a story about the Chinese community in San Francisco. While there are plenty of Asian extras roaming the streets, all of the principal roles are played by non-Asian actors in exaggerated make-up and costuming, spouting lines peppered with alleged "ancient Chinese philosophies" in preposterous broken English. The film also features the uncredited Toshia Mori (who is Japanese) as Robinson's Chinese secretary. She is the lone Asian in the cast with a speaking part, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, she is the target of a remark that is both racist and misogynistic in the same sentence. The interesting, sometimes brutal, story sadly takes a backseat to the blatant bigotry. Hollywood viewed Asian culture as a mystic novelty, an attitude it was unable to shake until.... well.... never. I found this film difficult to watch. While the acting was good, the story was thin and clunky in its telling.

A few days later, I watched the 1949 classic film noir The Third Man. I had heard great things about this movie and I wondered why it took me so long to see it. The Third Man consistently shows up on many critic's "greatest" lists, topping the British Film Institute's list of the "Greatest British Film of All Time." That is a pretty big deal. The film stars craggy Joseph Cotton as an American writer who arrives in post-war Vienna to meet his friend, the mysterious Harry Lime. While ringing the bell at Lime's apartment, he is informed that his friend is dead. This unfolds in the first five minutes. A jarring set-up that lays the foundation for what promises to be a wild ride. It is not. It is standard cloak and dagger that has been parodied a zillion times. The action is packed with knowing glances, shadowy figures, two-timing allies and abrupt, unexplained and unnatural changes in personalities. Plus there's a surprise that you can see coming a mile away. Director Carol Reed was obviously influenced by German expressionists, as the cinematography copies The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari as though it was shot with a piece of carbon paper behind it. The "look" of the film seemed more important than the story. At the film's conclusion, I honestly felt cheated.

Finally, I watched Ace in the Hole, a 1951 gritty Kirk Douglas vehicle that was Billy Wilder's first foray as writer, producer and director. This film was a mess in its initial release. At the last minute, the studio changed the title to The Big Carnival without consulting Wilder. The advertising poster is very misleading in its depiction of Kirk Douglas being trapped and in danger. He is not. That is apparent almost immediately,  so that's not a spoiler. Just after its release, Wilder was sued by a screenwriter for plagiarism. All that.... and it bombed at the box office. The story is a none-too-flattering account of media sensationalism and manipulative greed. Douglas is slimy and arrogant and he chews up every last bit of scenery. Co-star Jan Sterling is a stereotypical Hollywood "dame," a one-dimensional, underdeveloped character just there for the men to bounce lines (and slaps) off of. The rest of the cast are stock characters — the unflinching newspaper publisher, the bright-eyed eager photographer, the dim-witted common people. Six years after this movie, screenwriter Budd Schulberg would pen A Face in the Crowd. It is a much better, much darker, much more subtle presentation of essentially the same concept. I actually fell asleep a few times while watching Ace in the Hole, but I found I really missed nothing. That speaks volumes in the way of film editing.

When I talk to people about movies, I am enthusiastic about the ones I like. But, I will recommended films only if I think a particular person will like a particular movie. I don't say "You'll like this!" just because I like it.. However, some TCM fans and those who fancy themselves "film buffs" seem to like every movie they see... even if they don't really like them. They just think they're supposed to like them. I won't criticize you if you don't like a film that I like. That doesn't mean the movie is bad. It just means that we don't share the same opinion on every movie. With that thought fresh in our minds...

Although I won't make any friends with this admission, I will continue my confession. Two of the films I alluded to earlier — Casablanca and Some Like It Hot — are not my favorites. I have watched them both and I don't like either one. I am not a fan of Marilyn Monroe or any of James Dean's movies either.

Oh and I've never seen any sequel to Rocky or The Godfather. Can we still be friends?

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