Reviews

Angels and Insects is a thoughtful adult tale predicated on an anagram of the word "Insect." It benefits from a provocative story, interesting collection of characters, the charm of a period setting, and several philosophical and social musings, all worthy of consideration. The casting is generally admirable, as is the carefully selected country house setting. Unfortunately, all of this is brought to ruin by Philip Haas' inept directing. Haas is unable to elicit a single convincing reading from any of his characters, each one single dimensional and unsympathetic. Haas does not believe his audience capable of following the subtle story, so every symbol set in florescence, every theme overstated and restated ad nauseam, every moment of foreshadowing underlined and forced. This heavy handed approach is exacerbated by Paul Brown's ridiculously overwrought costumes, which try frantically to convey the image of humans as insects. Worst of all, Alexander Balanescu contributes a genuinely ugly and distracting musical score, which could ruin a far better film. For example, in an early scene when Adamson returns to Britain and is feted at a private ball, instead of using authentic music to nail the period effect and introduce all the elegant and subtle feelings that run beneath the Victorian surface, Balanescu concocts a drone that is an explicit imitation of locusts. This scene, which could be such a foil to the dance in the Amazon that precedes it, is utterly dreadful. If it is artistically useful to scream that humans and bugs are the same, Haas' approach might have worked. For the viewer who prefers to construct his own meanings and contexts, he will deplore that something intelligent has been debased to middle school stupidity. Perhaps those who admired "The Piano" (another film that frantically worried the view would not Get The Message, constantly harassed by garbage music) would also like this film. This viewer regretted that a marvelous story, worthy of a master filmmaker's hand, was wasted, as it is unlikely that anyone will ever attempt a remake. Pity.

One doesn't get to enjoy this gem, the 1936 Invisible Ray, often. But no can forget it. The story is elegant. Karloff, austere and embittered in his Carpathian mountain retreat, is Janos Rukh, genius science who reads ancient beams of light to ascertain events in the great geological past…particularly the crash of a potent radioactive meteor in Africa. Joining him is the ever-elegant Lugosi (as a rare hero), who studies "astro-chemistry." Frances Drake is the lovely, underused young wife; Frank Lawton the romantic temptation; and the divine Violet Kemble Cooper is Mother Rukh, in a performance worthy of Maria Ospenskya.

The story moves swiftly in bold episodes, with special effects that are still handsome. It also contains some wonderful lines. One Rukh restores his mother's sight, he asks, "Mother, can you see, can you see?" "Yes, I can see…more clearly than ever. And what I see frightens me." Even better when mother Rukh says, "He broke the first law of science." I am not alone among my acquaintance in having puzzled for many many years exactly what this first law of science is.

This movie is definitely desert island material.

The Garson/Olivier version of Austen's Pride and Prejudice takes great liberties with every aspect of the text, not the least of which is the smiling demeanor bestowed upon Edna May Oliver's Lady Catherine. None of this matters: the brilliance of the casting, the gravity-less quality of the acting, the pretty musical score, the lovely anachronistic costumes, and the velocity of the story-telling coalesce to make cinematic caviar. Every scene is memorable, and almost every line is quotable, delivered with immense punch. Freda Inescort in the library describing the accomplished woman, Edna May Oliver quizzing Garson's Elizabeth Bennett, or Ann Rutherford's irresistible and brainless Lydia return once married to Netherfield Park are indelible scenes. Olivier is at the height of his beauty and Garson conveys every drop of brains and beauty that Austen must have intended. If one wants a strict reading of the text, this will disappoint compared to the 1995 A&E version; if one wants all the joy and camp implicit in Austen, this is as good as it gets. If I could take one film to a desert island with me, this would probably be it.

Although other reviewers of this movie may dwell on its doggish qualities, I confess I can't let it slide any time TCM shows it. Taylor, at her absolutely most sumptuously gorgeous loves a violin virtuoso while rehabilitating a pianist who has lost his way due to psychological implosion. The scenes when Taylor patiently encourages the musical rehabilitation are like junk food loaded with cancer causing initials...once you start you can't stop.

As an interesting aside, the great Claudio Arrau plays the actual piano part. I have been told that in Mel's Dinner in LA, there is a picture of the maestro, in rakish youth, enjoying the splendors of his Hollywood moment.

If once had to pick only three films for eternity...

This is on my list. Rosalyn Russell lives forever as the free-spirited and outre Auntie Mame. Every line in the film is honed to razor perfection. Even the apartment has a starring role.

The movie, gorgeously shot and laid out in episodes, never flags for a second.

The scene in which Gloria Upson (Joanna Barnes)recounts her ping pong story is the non plus ultra of camp.

As with all the greatest comedies of manners, such as the works of Jane Austen, this story exudes its own special oxygen. One can pick up any scene at any line, and find oneself in a world where the laws of gravity do not apply.

Although I know better, I confess I'd rather watch this movie than any number of masterpieces. Jack Hawkins (pharaoh) forces magisterial James Justice (slave Vashtar)to construct an impenetrable pyramid for his cache of loot. Pharaoh runs short of money, forcing subject provinces to cough up the funds to keep the public works project going...the excuse for a breathtaking and youthful Joan Collins to enter the cast, and in short order, to subjugate pharaoh himself. Eternal riches seem rather dull compared to her considerable mortal charms.

All of this takes a back seat to the superb coup de main of the last five minutes when all the characters get their wish--for treasure, for power, and the security of eternity.

The excellent musical score helps.

This film helped to rehabilitate Cecil B. de Mille's career during the early talkies.

The story of the noble Roman officer tamed by a Christian beauty is predictable and leaden, but this is one gorgeous movie. De Mille's evocation of Rome is so strange, so distant from us, it might as well be the real thing.

The troubling yet erotic performance of the "Naked Moon," or the myriad details from the coliseum scene (for example, musicians playing historically correct instruments) linger in the mind long after the film ends.

Colbert is gorgeous (as always).

Hard to understand how this uneven flick won the Oscars it did. Russell Crowe has moments, but they are all of a single mood. The sets are tacky (think how gorgeous they are in Fall of the Roman Empire with Loren and Plummer), the cinematography is strangely muddy, and the story leaded.

The exception is Joaquim Phoenix's compelling reading of Commodus. The first time Crowe and fellow slave gladiators fight in the arena, Phoenix eclipses the scene with his convincing depiction of blood lust. One could watch the film again just for those few moments of insight into a genuine character.