Cinematic Distractions

[dulcedemon]

My holidays would have been incomplete without the now annual viewing of Akira Kurosawa's festive and oddly cathartic for me personally Scandal (1950). The first time I rented it from Netflix was at the end of 2019 at a difficult and potentially litigious moment in my life. It resonated with me in ways that I didn't expect. I'm not officially listing it because it has been on here several times since then.
New Year's Eve was the night I chose. I timed it to conclude thirty minutes before the ball dropped in Times Square. It has many of the elements associated with traditional Christmas movies, including a sappy, tear-jerking redemptive arc, and a selfless but sickly child with nothing but goodness in her heart.
Initially, the story doesn't seem to be about Christmas at all. It presents itself as a tale about a famous pop singer who misses her bus then accepts a lift from a motorcycle riding, semi-famous painter. They are spotted and photographed by paparazzi working for a celebrity gossip rag. The writer for that rag crafts some salacious fiction to accompany the photos. The issue goes to press, sells like hot cakes, and a scandal is born.
The beauty of this story is in how it shifts the main character focus from the targets of the tabloid rumor to their sad sack, screwup of an attorney. There is a ton of brilliant dialogue. I get a kick out of the discussion that takes place between the editor and writer prior to printing the story. Basically, the writer has a moment of conscience, and his boss talks him down. I like to think about how that conversation applies to the social media of today. I highly recommend Scandal to be watched anytime but especially during the week between Christmas and New Year.
Rather than do a bunch of holiday themed selections for December, I went with the leftovers of Criterion's Noirvember served cold, plus one title from our DVD collection. Just before Christmas, we started watching a series that was previously unavailable to us. We had heard a number of glowing recommendations. We have watched two seasons so far with one left to go. It has taught us some new vocabulary, and it will probably be on the next list.

The Killer That Stalked New York (AKA: Frightened City - 1950):
It's November 1947. Chanteuse Sheila Bennet (Evelyn Keyes) is returning to New York after a stint of nightclub performances in Cuba. We meet her in Penn Station as she steps off the train. She makes her way upstairs to a pay phone, calls her husband, then exits to the street, where she hails a cab (directly across from the Hotel Statler). All the while, she is being shadowed by a mysterious and imposing man.
Sheila is eager to reunite with her husband. Her husband, Matt Krane (Charles Korvin), is eager to receive the souvenirs she obtained for him. Given when this was made, I think it's interesting that their last names are different. Maybe it's a stage name thing with her being a singer and all.
We have a lady who wants to get to her husband. She has traveled a long way. She is exhausted, sweaty, and nervous. She tries with limited success to lose the guy on her tail. The rest of the details in this noir plot don't really matter. Sheila and Matt and their interpersonal drama are no more or less important than that of anyone else in New York City. Every person in this story is either a vehicle or obstacle for the main antagonist.
From that point on, B grade noir dovetails with the slickest pro-immunization PSA ever made. It brought me a great deal of joy to see so many people eagerly queuing and rolling up their sleeves in order to be vaccinated. They understand that they are protecting themselves while also performing a civic duty to protect their fellow New Yorkers. It's a shame that America has lost that sense of virtue.
A rapid and massive immunization campaign is undertaken. Vaccination centers are opened up all over the city. Door-to-door medical teams are deployed to the city's most overcrowded and impoverished neighborhoods. There are a few anti-vaxxers, but their ignorance is made plain, and a quick bit of public health education persuades nearly all of them.
William Bishop plays, Dr. Ben Wood, the tireless physician who heads a free clinic at the center of the outbreak. If he comes across as a cowboy-hatted hero riding to the rescue, it's because he frequently starred in Westerns. Jim Backus of Gilligan's Island fame plays sleazy nightclub owner Willie Dennis. Whit Bissell plays Sheila's brother Sid, who runs a seedy flophouse. I note him here due only to his uncanny resemblance to Benedict Cumberbatch. Despite it being a bit part, Walter Burke steals every scene he has as Danny "Brainy Danny" a bellhop at the Hotel America. Two years after starring in this movie, Charles Korvin was blacklisted from Hollywood for refusing to testify before the House Un-American Activities committee.
There is an easy to spot goof involving an APB put out on Sheila. Her height is read out as 5'4", but the paperwork shown on screen lists it as 5'2". It's little things like that, plus clever and insightful (unintentionally hilarious) dialogue that make this movie so entertaining.
In a conversation between doctors and city officials:
"We're going to see the mayor."
"It's Sunday!"
"No one told smallpox it's Sunday!"

From a group of children observing cops and contact tracers descending upon their neighborhood:
"I bet you they're government dicks!"

From a freshly vaccinated hospital employee:
"Smallpox in New York City. Wow!"

I watched this movie in its entirety twice. I watched the sequence following Sheila from the train until she enters the Hotel America five times. Essentially a slow chase movie, it shows a lot of New York City, plus a sliver of Los Angeles masquerading as New York at the end. The focus, however, is not on scenic overviews of cityscapes meant to inspire tourism. The city is presented from a low and tight perspective that often cuts off anything you would have to crane your neck to notice. If this movie were the only reference for the old Penn Station, no one would know of its grandeur.
I took the time to look up the Hotel America because I wanted to know if it had existed. There was indeed a Hotel America. There was also the American Hotel, and the Americana Hotel. I found them listed here along with other ghosts of NYC hotels past:
https://www.nyhistory.org/library/hotel-files
Here is a link to a number of stills from the movie. You can see how low they shot Penn Station's interior:
https://onthesetofnewyork.com/thekillerthatstalkednewyork.html
The story is based on a real outbreak of smallpox that occurred in NYC in 1947:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1947_New_York_City_smallpox_outbreak

Human Desire (Fritz Lang - 1954):
Trains, Trains, Trains!!!
This movie has more trains than some railroad documentaries I have seen. Trains are seen or at least heard in almost every scene. Even in home interior scenes, look carefully at the artwork and photographs on the walls --Trains!
For a long time, I knew this movie as the Fritz Lang Netflix didn't have. It might have been available at one point, but I was trying to go through his movies chronologically. When it was time for this title, they no longer had it. I put the trains foremost in this write-up because without the atmosphere they create, the story is kind of tepid as noir goes. If Glenn Ford's character were a factory worker or a hotel manager, I wouldn't have given this a second watch. Something I had hoped to find was a railfan blog meticulously identifying the trains and locations, but no such luck. I recognized Trenton, New Jersey only because of the Lower Trenton Bridge: "Trenton Makes - The World Takes". The trains and railyards in the movie are mostly real. The name of the railroad is fictitious. The rest is a mix of stock footage and constructed sets. The Wikipedia entry for Human Desire has all the production information I could find: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_Desire
A veteran of the Korean War returns home and resumes his job as a railroad engineer. Jeff Warren (Glenn Ford) eases into his old civilian life with little fanfare. He finds room and board with the Simmons family. Alec Simmons (Edgar Buchanan) is a senior engineer, co-worker, friend, and mentor to Jeff. He and his wife regard Jeff almost as a son and welcome him warmly. The welcome from their daughter Ellen (Kathleen Case) is even warmer. Jeff is cordial but not flirtatious with the young woman. He still thinks of her as a kid.
Alec fills Jeff in on the workplace gossip he missed while in Korea. The juiciest tidbit involves railyard overseer Carl Buckley (Broderick Crawford). Stocky and a bit brutish, Carl became the talk of the town when he married a stunning, young blonde. Vicki Buckley (Gloria Grahame) is the type of woman some might disparage as a floozy. She loves to flaunt herself, and constantly teases her husband, but when he leans in for a kiss or hug, she pushes him away. Carl drinks out of frustration. He suspects his wife is unfaithful. Alcohol exacerbates his anxiety and explosive temper.
It's implied that Vicki has a risqué past. She was working when she met Carl, but her profession isn't specified. Later, at a pivotal moment, she complains about how sick and tired she is of being pawed at by men. She tries to make her marital discontent Jeff's problem after encountering him one night on a train to Los Angeles.
It's kind of funny how the rest of the plot almost takes a backseat to Jeff's romantic dilemma. Will he fall for the sultry blonde in distress, or will he accompany the sweet and ever so smitten brunette to the annual railroad company dinner dance? In noir movies like this, it's rare for the protagonist to have the option to simply walk or hop the next train away from trouble.

Cannibal! The Musical (1996):
The sky is blue, and all the leaves are green, when a group of miners and their guide, Alfred Packer (Trey Parker), set out on a trek from Bingham Canyon, Utah to Breckenridge in Colorado Territory in the hope of striking gold. Their spirits are high as the get underway. Their hearts are as full as baked potatoes. They are also utterly clueless. After a series of miscalculations and mishaps, the group is faced with almost certain doom.
This horror comedy marked Trey Parker's directorial debut. It's pretty much a class project that he and his friends did in college. It was completed in 1993 and originally titled Alfred Packer: The Musical. It was shown only in Colorado. The story loosely follows the historical account of the ill-fated 1873 prospecting expedition led by Alfred Packer and his subsequent trial for murder. The songs are a little bit Oklahoma! in tone but with comedic lyrics.
In 1996, it was picked up for general release by Troma Entertainment and given its current title. It enjoys longevity not only on DVD but also as a stage production put on by small theater ensembles, and university and even high school drama departments. The script is available online.
The DVD includes a special introduction by Lloyd Kaufman, progressively drunken commentary by Trey Parker, Matt Stone, Dian Bachar and other cast members, and a plethora of extra features for selection from an amusing but also disgusting animated menu. I don't recall where I bought my copy. It was over twenty years ago. It might have been at a local record store. We like to watch it on or around Thanksgiving. Watching it post-election, it occurred to me that the story could serve as an allegory for Trump supporters. The song "That's All I'm Asking For" and its reprise sum it up best.

The Crimson Kimono (1959):
Not to be confused with the silent drama The Red Kimono (1925).
Opening credits depicting the tranquil solitude of an artist's studio give way to big drama when a burlesque performer by the name of Sugar Torch (Gloria Pall) is surprised in her dressing room by an armed attacker. Los Angeles homicide detectives Charlie Bancroft (Glenn Corbett) and Joe Kojaku (James Shigeta) are assigned to the case. The investigation leads them from the strip club to the local art scene and the Japanese quarter of the city. Their friendship and professional partnership are tested when they both fall for an attractive young artist (Victoria Shaw) who painted a portrait of the victim not long before the murder. James Shigeta pours it out as the emotionally conflicted romantic lead. The cross-cultural dynamics and interracial romantic subplot make it rather progressive for its time.
I have seen Glenn Corbett in one other thing, and that's Homicidal (1961) directed by William Castle, which I also recommend and hope to see again someday. Anna Lee looked terribly familiar to me, but I couldn't place her. She had a role in How Green Was My Valley (1941), which I have seen, but I don't remember her from that. I think maybe her slight resemblance to Laurie Anderson was messing with me. She plays such a weird character here. Mac is a perky and perpetually pickled painter, and police informant. She might look like Laurie Anderson, but she acts like W.C. Fields.
Two actors who appear in The Killer That Stalked New York are also in this. Walter Burke has an uncredited part as a police informant who meets with Detective Bancroft in a dark alley. They don't call him "Brainy Danny". His name here is Ziggy. It's a lot of lines and close-ups for an uncredited role. Paul Dubov plays Sugar Torch's manager Casale. If I'm not mistaken, he was the "Smallpox in New York City. Wow!" guy in the other movie.
The Crimson Kimono is interesting both as a noir and for the cultural strides it tries to make, however ham-fisted.

Someone's Watching Me! (1978):
The working title for this television movie was High Rise, and it's a prime specimen of the niche genre known as telephone horror. In other words, it's a protagonist stares at ringing phones production.
It follows a formula similar to that of Black Christmas (1974), Are You in the House Alone? (1978), and When a Stranger Calls (1979), but it's not a full-on slasher flick. Psychological terror is emphasized over physical violence. At times, it invokes elements of Rear Window (1954). It strays from typical stalker horror targets like babysitters, and sorority sisters.
The chosen victim, Leigh Michaels (Lauren Hutton), has a promising career in live television production. She just landed a position as a technical director at an upmarket network in Los Angeles. The new job affords her a spacious apartment in a posh high overlooking the downtown. She is fiercely independent and guarded about her personal life. She has no qualms about living alone and prefers a casual approach to intimate relationships.
She is barely settled into her new place when she receives the first mysterious phone call. Letters and packages follow as part of an attempt to socially engineer her into thinking she has won a contest. The phone calls become more frequent and menacing. When the police are less than helpful, Leigh and a co-worker whom she befriends, Sophie (Adrienne Barbeau), try to track down and identify the culprit themselves.
As with others of this genre, false apprehension is part of the plot. There is always at least one "Don't worry. You're safe now. We've got the guy. Oops! Sorry! Wrong guy." twist. Someone's Watching Me! is not the best known example of the telephone horror genre. It's absent from this list: https://www.imdb.com/list/ls023083862/
I don't think it's due to a lack of quality. Director John Carpenter took a more subdued and suspenseful approach. Physical violence is minimal with deaths happening off camera. I think it gets overlooked because it downplays sensationalism and prurience against audience expectation. Also, Lauren Hutton's character is no delicate hothouse flower. She is not some teenager frightened out of her wits. She is a strong, competent, highly intelligent, and assertive adult woman, who has achieved success in a male-dominated profession. I don't know how American couch potatoes felt about that in 1978, but American voters sure were repulsed by it in 2024.
Coincidentally, I watched this just a few days before Olivia Hussey passed away. I suppose I owe my copy of Black Christmas a watch.

So Long at the Fair (1950):
I was so impressed that I forgot that I had watched it until I checked my notes. This could have been an episode of The Twilight Zone or Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Oh wait! It was an episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Into Thin Air (1955). Fine. So Long at the Fair did it first. Well, not exactly, if you consider The Lady Vanishes (1938). Actually, all of these are based upon the same 19th century urban legend. In some versions, only a person vanishes. In other versions, the person disappears along with the hotel room in which they were staying. In all versions, the missing person travels in the company of a young woman, who is later mercilessly gaslit as she searches for her relative, friend, or acquaintance made in transit as the case may be.
British citizens Johnny Barton (David Tomlinson) and his younger sister Victoria Barton (Jean Simmons) are in Paris for the 1889 World's Fair. After their first night on the town, they retire to their adjoining rooms in a quaint hotel. The next morning, when Victoria goes to fetch her brother, she is astonished to find nothing but a blank wall where the door to his room should be. There is no sign of Johnny or his luggage. The hotel owners and staff insist that she arrived and checked in alone. The guestbook shows only her signature.
Victoria's only hope lies in enlisting the aid of a fellow British national, George Hathaway (Dirk Bogarde), who had spoken with her brother and borrowed cab fare from him on the night they arrived. An underwhelming romance ensues. Jean Simmons is lovely, and David Tomlinson is charming, but the motive behind the disappearing act and the extreme gaslighting didn't sit well with me. So Long at the Fair was directed by Terence Fisher, who went to work for Hammer Films just one year later, setting himself on the path toward a long and fruitful career.