CYB: Cats, Castles, Bats, Canaries, and Westward the Women
Herewith another series I’ll call Count Your Blessings, object to single out discs or streaming a rebirth for features figured never to look so pristine again. Being around long enough to have seen some when new (Castle of Blood), where poor prints prevailed (The Cat and the Canary), or when DVD was still in primitive state (The Bat Whispers), here is dawn on day the three look near to when new, but could we know what that amounted to, not having seen most fresh-minted? The chiller trio watched more/less in succession, Castle of Blood came first, streaming via Vudu/Fandango and in High-Def. It is Italian horror, being of wager the hero will collect if he survives the night in a haunted house. Barbara Steele resides there, Castle’s current vein of interest, it occurring to me that here came Victorian spook telling as if sprung from century-old pages to latter-day life. Castle is said to derive in part from Edgar Allan Poe, atmosphere primarily the sell with a sock end, plus Poe among taverners arranging the bet. Castle of Blood was a Woolner Bros. release, dualed with Hercules in the Haunted World, so I wonder how much circulation it actually got in ’64. Does elite order go to those who were there? I've not found a fan yet who caught Castle theatrically. Was it like spotting Yetis or the Loch Ness? Footage is lately added that was kept out then, mild nudity, gore, and such. Sentiment speaks for itself here. Who else would seek out Castle of Blood? Sales should reveal at least how many will. The Cat and the Canary was good on standard DVD, a Photoplay/Brownlow project, me enthused over that in 2017, but here comes 2024 and Blu-Ray from Masters of Cinema surpasses it. Silent horror I suspect was never so persuasive, Cat a likely leap over London After Midnight in event we ever locate the latter … just my guess so long as we don’t have opportunity to compare, here again disappointment at no one left from 1927 who could evaluate the pair from memory, same being so of 1930’s The Bat Whispers, at long-last Blu rendition of the wide original (“Magnifilm”), an experience unlike any you’d get from vintage horror, unless others were shot on 65mm, which none were. For me this was like Main Stem sitting at early to mid-twenties peak of chiller-dillers done on stage, ones-of-kind experience many took to eternity with them, too few writing of what they saw and heard. For this alone I treasure The Bat Whispers, being dense with humor to leaven chills as was habit then, and who minds so long as Roland West works his restless camera and depicts darkness darker than I ever thought 1930 or since was capable.
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Appreciating all this comes easy for years ago watching and, heaven spare my audiences, running bad prints to crowds that should have hung me high for so imposing upon them. Remember Phantom of the Opera as 1973 shown here by Greenbriar? Co-inflictor at infamous occasion Dan Mercer has wove the tale several times. Suffice to say the print was on 8mm from Blackhawk, aimed across width of a basketball court, what-was-I-thinking occasion never to be lived down. 2024 does revival and rebirth notably better, as at this year’s TCM Festival where, among others, Westward the Women played to satisfaction not had since 1951 when the MGM western was new. Consider years with transfers weak, adequate for TV but no larger format, then sudden comes digital to remind us how all studio features acquitted where fresh off trucks. I’ll venture in fact that Westward the Women looks superior now to what first-run attendees saw, modern means by which images achieve clarity not obtainable generations back. I wanted to know how the TCM run was received and so consulted Laura’s Miscellaneous Musings, site proprietor Laura Grieve having been at the Festival and an eyewitness to crowd reaction when Westward the Women unspooled. She generously passes along as follows how the never-better-than-now show was greeted:
Hi John!
What a nice surprise to hear from you - and as WESTWARD THE WOMEN is one of my
favorite films, I'm thrilled to hear you'll be writing about it.
The screening was really wonderful - absolutely packed, though it was a bit disappointing when a large cohort of people there to see Jeanine Basinger honored with the Robert Osborne Award got up and left from prime VIP seats in the center of the theater when that part of the proceedings ended! I wish they had stood at the back or something, as I believe some people were shut out of attending the screening. Basinger said one of the reasons she chose the film for her ceremony was that when she was a young movie theater page, it made an impression as a film where the audience stayed at the end and applauded, which wasn't the norm in 1951! And she spoke about loving how the women were very strong but also maintained their femininity, highlighted in the last sequence of the movie.
I was wondering what the audience reaction would be,
as the film is somewhat groundbreaking for its depictions of strong women in
the '50s, especially in Westerns -- of course, we also got lots of strong women
in pre-codes etc. -- but there are also some statements made early on by Robert
Taylor's character the audience might view as misogynistic, plus a whole lotta
slapping LOL. It really seems as though virtually everyone loved the
film; I think it was one of the most talked-about screenings of the festival,
along with NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES, the restoration of THE SEARCHERS, and the
Vitaphone shorts with original record soundtracks, to name a few that had a lot
of "buzz."
There were several reactions shared on Twitter which I Re-Tweeted, and as it was easy for me to locate them again I thought I'd send you the links for "as it happened" audience reactions shortly after the April 20th screening - clicking through these might give you a more direct idea of the same kinds of reactions I was hearing as I spoke with people after the movie, as well as the next day.
https://twitter.com/Kimbo3200/status/1781914534304989358
https://twitter.com/sleepyserenade/status/1782121816934514792
https://twitter.com/chrisreederATX/status/1782125209723801767
https://twitter.com/chrisreederATX/status/1781901100251259031
https://twitter.com/HillPlaceBlog/status/1784405415675023506
https://twitter.com/dannymmiller/status/1781905598931767722
https://twitter.com/daveypretension/status/1781899209349931390
I saw at least one negative Tweet saying she didn't
like the film, decrying the slapping and women marrying strangers, etc., but
that was in the minority. People seemed surprised by the film's gritty
tone and loved the characters. There was a nice round of applause at
the end before everyone dashed off to their next movie line.
Finally, in case you've not happened across my column
on this in the past, you might be interested to know that the movie's
"town" sets are still standing! (Barely, they are in a state of
decay.) I discovered this when I visited Kanab, Utah, in 2021, and I
shared photos in my Western Roundup column for the Classic Movie Hub
site. I thought you might enjoy a look in conjunction with this topic:
https://www.classicmoviehub.com/blog/western-roundup-kanab-utah/
Thank you so much for your very kind words, which mean a great deal to me given how many years I have enjoyed your own site. You gave my day a lift!
Best wishes,
Laura
… and copious thanks back to Laura, whose site of years standing is a regular stop for me and I’m sure most who read Greenbriar. How could Westward the Women on home alone basis approach benefits watching at the TCM Fest? Most we can do is hope visitors enjoy our vintage picks, but how to serve tastes of all in the room? Reaction to Westward the Women at Twitter reveals much. No Fest-goer came away without an opinion, question when will Westward the Women again play to near-capacity of eager sitters? Reminds me of classical compositions that get maybe one recital, but none more for being unfamiliar since they don’t get performed, round and round from there to obscurity. Easy to forget that movies were once customized for wide exposure. Filmmakers, certainly film distributors and showmen down the line, understood that to please a few was to please nobody. Where do I come off writing authoritatively of a movie’s merit when I never once sat among an audience, let alone a paying one, to watch these relics released for the most part prior to my birth? There are plenty to recall superheroes or lords of rings amidst crowds, but who to bear witness of Westward the Women when it went 1951 rounds, apart from Fest guest Jeanine Basinger? (and how fortunate attendees were to hear her pre-screening reminiscence) Any other such witness would be welcome in comments below, but how likely are such to surface? (eighty years and older Internet dwellers please apply) Gratitude to Laura then for audience moment she captured and preserves for us who see Westward the Women mostly on lone terms, or among whatever like minds can be inveigled to share an outstanding, and to my mind, reborn show.
For 1944 instance of an appreciative viewer who “was there” when a classic was new, there is future writer and historian Don Miller covering NY's open of Murder, My Sweet.
Dan Mercer encores his account of our 1973 "Phantom" show:
ReplyDeleteI seem to remember that outing you’d advertised, for all the years that have passed.
Cline Gym then was a shambling brick barn of a building on the old Lenoir-Rhyne campus. Given its primitive facilities, it seemed hard to imagine that a college basketball team once played their games there, though not since the much larger and more modern Shuford Gymnasium had been opened. Cline Gym remained, though, as an available space, the latter in abundance with nothing to obstruct the expanse of worn, hardwood floor. The college being dry, at least in principle, the “b” in the “BYOB” of your poster would have referred to a blanket. If I’m correct, this was where you made your debut as an exhibiter on campus.
The W. C. Fields and Laurel and Hardy shorts went over well, Fields’ “The Dentist” especially. When the scene with Elise Cavanna began, there was an incredulous gasp and then cheers and laughter. Those farm boys and girls in the packed house knew when a furrow was being plowed. What was even more audacious, however, was that you were showing the films in Super 8 mm and magnetic sound. Only a showman with b-lls of steel would have dared to pull that off, with such a long throw to the screen, yet it seemed to work wonderfully well. From where I sat, the image was clear and bright and the sound more than adequate.
Where I sat was the “catbird seat,” less a platform than a small projection midway up the high wall, where the scorekeeper would have sat during those basketball games in the two-hand set shot era. The feature attraction, Lon Chaney’s “The Phantom of the Opera,” was a silent print, so the musical accompaniment was to be supplied by a portable stereo phonograph on that perch, manned by me. Joined extension cords dangled from the platform to an electrical outlet far below. While I was not then especially enamored of heights, the excitement of participating in the showing allowed me to cast all thought of personal safety aside. As it turned out, however, the aesthetic outcome of my assistance might have benefitted from such discretion.
The music selected was various Bach organ pieces, an homage to a time when silent films in larger theaters would have been accompanied by a theater organ. Probably piano pieces would have been better or maybe Saint-Saen’s Symphony No. 3 in C minor, the “Organ Symphony,” in which the mighty instrument is only employed in the finale. Worse, however, was the sudden inspiration that came to me as a way of "juicing" up the chandelier scene. It occurred to me that I could drop the volume dramatically before the chandelier’s fall and then blast it out at full force in the ensuing chaos. The audience would be startled and shocked by the corresponding play of sound to the images of destruction.
Unfortunately, I had never seen Chaney’s film in its entirety before then, only the remake directed by Arthur Lubin. Lubin was a pedestrian director, but the one thing he got right was building up the chandelier scene well beyond what it was given in the Chaney version. So, while I was waiting for the scene to develop, it was spent almost before I knew it. The reduction in volume was brief and the “full force” that I sought was beyond the little portable’s capacity. All that might have been apparent to the audience was a certain furtive effect of no consequence, though I heard the voice of one of them calling out to ask whether I was having a problem up there with the sound.
Indeed.
That picadillo aside, it was a delightful evening for all involved and, for you, the beginning of wonderful things to come. Cline Gym was taken down years ago, but memories can be more enduring than brick.
ReplyDeleteI did that with 8MM in my early days. It worked. BIG screen is a MOVIE. Small screen isn't. People were pleased as punch. I upgraded to 16mm. Just ordered from MASTERS OF CINEMA THE CAT AND THE CANARY, THE LAST WARNING and THE MAN WHO LAUGHS. Love Paul Leni's work.
Should have read Dan Mercer above. The Lubin PHANTOM is the Phantom castrated. It's big budget "B". The Chaney version is an "A" all the way. That Chandelier scene in it is, properly scored for tension (which most often it isn't) surpasses it. The Chaney version is my all time favourite movie. It sold me on the potential of the motion picture when I first saw it in 8mm, silent on my bedroom wall. It is why I did what I have done.
ReplyDeleteThe chandelier scene surely wasn't scored for tension when I handled it. But as to Chaney's "Phantom," it is one of my favorites, an almost perfectly realized fairy tale. The descent into the lower levels of the Opera, to the Phantom's lair, is like that to the underworld, from which only a hero might rescue beauty from the darkness. The last scene, where the Phantom holds back the mob through the sheer force of his will, pretending to have some terrible weapon, then laughing as he flaunts his empty hands, is magnificent.
ReplyDeleteThat last scene is what sold me on the potential of the movies. I refrained from mentioning it above. I bought the book of the screenplay, The script called+-for Chaney to actually have a bomb in his hand. Intuitively, Chaney transcended what he was called to. None of the other versions approach his. The musical is banal.
ReplyDelete"B.Y.O.B." Beer?
ReplyDelete