Algiers (1938)
Take the teaming alleys of the old town of Algiers in North Africa, cramped and multi-national, filled with intentional mystery, and you have the basis of a great movie. A great, exciting, unique, visually gorgeous one.
And it delivers on some of those scores. But why is it also a bit clumsy and forced all he way through? Two main reasons, I think. First, some of the secondary characters are comic caricatures (like Gene Lockhart), and as if to confirm this, they are given some silly lines as well. Second, the direction, under John Cromwell, which is clumsy and patchwork. Some of the most ordinary lines are delivered with avoidable awkwardness. I don't think Charles Boyer is a very convincing Arab kingpin, nor is the chief policeman from Paris a bit believable. All of this stacks the movie against its terrific setting.
The highlight might actually be the simplest to understand--the photography by the great cameraman James Wong Howe. Right behind, but most accounts, is the presence of Hedy Lamarr as a kind of sophisticated femme fatale, bejeweled and bewitching. At least from the point of view of Boyer, who at one point is transfixed by her bracelet, her pearls, and her smile, in that order. The sure sign of a doomed man.
The drama does become more intense, and both the police pressure and the crossed lovers percolate a bit. Boyer remains perplexing as the leading man, as if always aware he's the leading man more intent on being charming (in that 1930s French way) than playing the part of a supposed boss. And just wait for the scene where he breaks into song and everyone comes around to listen. Good thing the photography never relents--you can watch the movie for the visuals alone.
I'm not sure what gives this movie its reputation, but I'll throw up a red flag against it. The exotic local, the mix of nationalities, the odd assortment of actors, and the central romance might make seem to presage Casablanca (in those ways) but the comparison ends there. Don't be discouraged by the first twenty minutes, which is the weakest part. By the end the mood has changed enough to work.
If you're wondering, this is a low budget production from Walter Wanger, a year before he produced John Ford's "Stagecoach." And the filming occurred in Algiers itself, which is part of the interest. Give it whirl. Try to find a sharper version than the lousy one Netflix streams.
Take the teaming alleys of the old town of Algiers in North Africa, cramped and multi-national, filled with intentional mystery, and you have the basis of a great movie. A great, exciting, unique, visually gorgeous one.
And it delivers on some of those scores. But why is it also a bit clumsy and forced all he way through? Two main reasons, I think. First, some of the secondary characters are comic caricatures (like Gene Lockhart), and as if to confirm this, they are given some silly lines as well. Second, the direction, under John Cromwell, which is clumsy and patchwork. Some of the most ordinary lines are delivered with avoidable awkwardness. I don't think Charles Boyer is a very convincing Arab kingpin, nor is the chief policeman from Paris a bit believable. All of this stacks the movie against its terrific setting.
The highlight might actually be the simplest to understand--the photography by the great cameraman James Wong Howe. Right behind, but most accounts, is the presence of Hedy Lamarr as a kind of sophisticated femme fatale, bejeweled and bewitching. At least from the point of view of Boyer, who at one point is transfixed by her bracelet, her pearls, and her smile, in that order. The sure sign of a doomed man.
The drama does become more intense, and both the police pressure and the crossed lovers percolate a bit. Boyer remains perplexing as the leading man, as if always aware he's the leading man more intent on being charming (in that 1930s French way) than playing the part of a supposed boss. And just wait for the scene where he breaks into song and everyone comes around to listen. Good thing the photography never relents--you can watch the movie for the visuals alone.
I'm not sure what gives this movie its reputation, but I'll throw up a red flag against it. The exotic local, the mix of nationalities, the odd assortment of actors, and the central romance might make seem to presage Casablanca (in those ways) but the comparison ends there. Don't be discouraged by the first twenty minutes, which is the weakest part. By the end the mood has changed enough to work.
If you're wondering, this is a low budget production from Walter Wanger, a year before he produced John Ford's "Stagecoach." And the filming occurred in Algiers itself, which is part of the interest. Give it whirl. Try to find a sharper version than the lousy one Netflix streams.