Parkland Picks with Popcorn #5

 

Pop Goes: Houdini, Mirage, Frankenstein's Daughter, and The Greene Murder Case

HOUDINI (1953) --- Paramount does a Tony/Janet, borrowed from U-I and Metro, respectively, if not respectfully, as Curtis was known mostly as bubble-gum merchant for kids still buying fan magazines in otherwise decline, Hollywood being still Hollywood (as in old Hollywood). Who then figured TC for fine and earnest performance he gave for producing George Pal, who had but little to make Houdini appear big? Negative cost was $1.3 million, and two million was collected in domestic rentals. I’ll assume that was mostly youngsters showing up, plus olders who'd remember the real Houdini, himself having made movies in silent times. Houdini was a favorite when NBC took custody for 1965 broadcasts, as in much begging to stay up late and watch, at least on my part. Houdini tells a complicated life and suggests supernatural gift the title character had for sleight-of-hand and body. Curtis was a convert, him doing tricks for remain of a lifetime thanks to what he learned here. Houdini longed to commune with the dead, made conscientious effort to do so, but wound up mostly exposing fakes, a highlight of Pal and Para’s brisk ride through times not so long past in 1953. Curtis nicely conveys near-suicidal impulse that took real-life Houdini eventually down. Do magic experts respect this show? For viewership that is me and hopeful others, it’s always been a click, producer Pal ideal to indicate a man truly uncanny, but not enough so to scare off or otherwise alienate Tony’s then-mob. Was the Houdini wife alive enough in 1953 to vet or try blocking this? Pal assures fantasy overlay most welcome, us invited to conclude Houdini made escapes by means beyond mere magic. Has anyone since mastered his techniques, figured out how he did his so-called tricks? I begin to wonder if some of secrets were never meant for man to know, at least would like to think Houdini had an in with spiritual voids, and may yet show up to school us re next world mysteries.

MIRAGE (1965) --- What hath Charade wrought, at least so far as Universal during the mid-sixties when imitators seized stars, mostly veterans, who needed glam vehicles both fresh and time-honored like Charade which was Hitchcock-ish with humor increased and sprightly scores oft-work of Mancini, though in Mirage case Quincy Jones. Latter helped the pictures lure, plus sold albums, which led to Hitchcock losing Bernard Herrmann, Uni wanting something other than Marnie’s funerial accompany and Torn Curtain threatening to do the same. Proof of Uni intent as serious came with Herrmann playback of so-far score to an indignant Hitchcock. Would this composer not simply do as ordered? ---answer No plain to anyone who knew Bernard Herrmann. Mirage was first of two for Gregory Peck off Charade model, Mirage serious, Arabesque more frolicky. Mirage was shot largely on Manhattan streets that in high-contrast B/W look post-apoco-tripping, a '65 Gotham I would have been uneasy visiting, reason alone to watch and like Mirage, for nothing of the era gets over quite a same, never mind story struggle. In fact, I prefer Mirage to Charade, if not to Hitchcock himself at low gear, and aver it should be counted better, especially now that we have Blu-Ray widescreen to point up visual value, standard DVD’s and earlier TV never equal to the task. Power mongers take over a peace movement and it is for amnesiac Peck to unfurl truth with help of Diane Baker. I like watching Peck utterly confused by events uncannier as narrative rolls toward “unexpected” finish, his help (Walter Matthau) not so helpful and could-be furtherance of threat, while George Kennedy engages fist play with Peck that works for both being big guys who make fights credible (GP takes tumbles well). Action was default direction for Peck by the sixties, notwithstanding Mockingbird, him struggling like the rest for worthwhile properties, which Mirage was/is despite underserved obscurity.

FRANKENSTEIN’S DAUGHTER (1958) --- To define “risible” is to define Frankenstein’s Daughter: “such as to provoke laughter,” but then again, maybe not, for here was a thing to invite more derision than mirth we expect from sci-fi off basement floors. I never laughed at cheap genre expression anyhow, that too much the thing of camp following which is no fair way to sum Frankenstein’s Daughter or its kind. A feature shot in six days for $60K or less commands respect, at least mine, for as many might ridicule, others touched by empathy will ask, Yes, but could you do it? A man named Richard E. Cunha built Frankenstein’s Daughter from dust up, a monster maker all his own and mirror to drama he so badly portrays. Astor enabled Frankenstein’s Daughter, a deal believably made on bar stools, Cunha in this for nothing other than hoped-for profit. He would finish up running a video store, amiable to master scribe Tom Weaver who ran him to ground. One could generate a Frankenstein movie, as many as one pleased, because the name and everything but Universal-controlled face design (for their monster) was PD and thus free range. Same with Dracula by 1958. It is for this reason a market was saturated with makes and remakes and finally shamble that was Frankenstein’s Daughter. How much audience blundered to this when good word-of-mouth was instead for The Curse of Frankenstein, or to Blood of Dracula when Horror of Dracula was the one to see? Frankenstein’s Daughter opens with a girl (not the title girl) dashing about streets in a nightgown and fright face. Monster of title’s promise was mistakenly cast with a pug ugly male to which they applied lipstick, us reminded of same cosmetic put on pigs, or however that expression goes. Being now the fifties, it is a grandson of Dr. Frankenstein who fashions fiends, so who was Dad, Wolf or Ludwig? Fun would have been a “ghost” cameo by Rathbone or Cedric Hardwicke, both which could have been had for a price, but not so low as Cunha could pay. There is instead Sandra Knight and John Ashley as familiars, her a pin-up also for Thunder Road and later The Terror, so for sure I’m interested, plus Ashley an already overaged teen who’d go far places doing penny Pilipino scare shows in the 60/70’s. We best know genre product by company they keep, familiar faces a balm against heavy weather that is cheapness or boredom, which Frankenstein’s Daughter has less of thanks to recent and first-rate Blu-Ray treatment from Film Masters, and look you, there are extras here to beat any majors’ band.

THE GREENE MURDER CASE (1930) --- You may need smelling salt with popcorn, soda, what not, to keep slumber at bay while watching The Greene Murder Case, one of three Paramount Philo Vance mysteries released of late, and on Blu-Ray, by Kino. Greene like Canary is of 1929 vintage, so bar door against stately pace and dialogue dealt deliberate, but oh how we’ve wanted these, and for myself, over much of so-far lifetime. Best seen in solitary confine, the Vances are very definition of “For Dedicated Only,” that is, to ancient talking. You could wonder if Egypt or Babylonia of old spoke as here, so remote does much of it seem. And yet there are spasms of the unexpected, a lively pay-off and unmasking of the killer, an inherited madness theme that for me spiked interest. I’m guessing 1929 audiences stayed still as tombs so as not to miss William Powell’s unravel of mayhem and who’s committing it. Lots of us fans dote on mystery, sameness and formula a relaxant little else in life supplies. Think of Charlie Chan, Sherlock Holmes, others of detecting fraternity. One of streaming’s most popular categories is who done or is doing it. Britain has made cottage, no empire, industry of such, Miss Marple hanging shingle all about the Isles. How many Marples have we had just in our present generation? I dare say Vance no matter how old will sell as if new to mystery’s fan base so dedicated. I got a tingle watching Greene, that is except for ten or so minutes when sleep stole me away. Vance is more studied and serious than sleuths Powell otherwise played, so venture not with expectation he’ll be like Nick Charles. Fact is, Powell wearied of being Vance and said no to further ones after The Kennel Murder Case from Warners in 1934, arguably best of the lot. It’s sure enough a lucky corner wherever one can sit for 1929 shows on High-Def, and here I was still pinching myself for luck getting Oland Fu Manchus last year. Is there no end to boutique Blu-Ray miracles? Please Kino --- enter into another contract with Universal so you can release more rarities from them and pre-49 Paramounts they own (like for instance Clara Bow talkies).