CONFLICT: more fighting off-screen than on

If you ever imagined that actors were oblivious to the awfulness of a film they were making and it's only us critics with perception powerful enough to recognise a turd when we see it, then you need to read pages 228 to 233 of Rudy Behlmer's 1985 book 'Inside Warner Bros.'
These pages contain the transcript of a May 6, 1943 phone call between Warner Bros top star, Humphrey Bogart, and studio boss Jack Warner on the subject of CONFLICT. Bogey is pleading with his employer to be released from his obligation to make this film. This is just a sampling:
"I am more serious than I have ever been in my life and I just do not want to make this picture."
"Nothing you can say will convince me it is a good picture, or is in good shape, or for me."
"It is not any good. It is not constructed for me and no thought has been put into it."

In attempting to persuade his recalcitrant star to make the film, Warner alternates between talking it up "In my opinion, from a professional standpoint, this picture.... will be one of the important pictures, because it is so different from anything that you or we have done" to virtually conceding that Bogart has a point "In this business you can't always take the apples off the tree, you have to take some of them that are on the ground" although he denies Bogart's assertion that he (Warner) is admitting "that this is a rotten apple."
Despite Bogart protestations, he made CONFLICT  and while it's certainly not a rotten apple it doesn't do much for his image or reputation either. Bogart clearly had a far better idea of his screen persona than his studio did and he was 100% right to insist that the role was not right for him. It's difficult to understand what Warner Bros were thinking when they cast him in a part that was so at odds with the tough, principled, highly individual characters he'd played with enormous success in 'The Maltese Falcon', 'Casablanca', 'Action in the North Atlantic' and 'Sahara.'
Architect Richard Mason is a scheming, mentally disturbed psychopath who murders his wife when she gets in the way of his lust for her sister and then goes mad when she apparently returns from the dead to haunt him. This is not the Bogart the public had come to love nor was it even an 'interesting' change of direction. Mason is an implausible, one dimensional figure lacking in any kind of appeal. Bogart was far too professional to give a deliberately bad performance but he's obviously struggling to find anything in the script that can help him to make Mason a credible character.
CONFLICT is somewhat kinder on Bogart's frequent 40s co-star Sydney Greenstreet. He's far better suited to the role of family friend and wily psychiatrist Dr Mark Hamilton who figures out what his best friend is up, and he brings a grace and sophistication to the project that it really doesn't deserve. The one real pleasure to be derived from this film is watching Greenstreet in action, effortlessly dominating every scene he appears in without once overshadowing Bogart.
As a thriller CONFLICT is disappointingly flat, unconvincing and anything but an 'important picture', but as a lesson in how a big studio can totally mishandle it's biggest star this film is priceless.

NEVER TAKE SWEETS FROM A STRANGER: does exactly what it says on the tin

NEVER TAKE SWEETS FROM A STRANGER is an interesting blend of exploitation and drama which genuinely surprised me by the frankness with which it addressed its subject matter.
Set in Canada but very obviously filmed within a stone's throw of the Buckinghamshire studios of Hammer Productions in the UK, the story tackles the issue of pedophilia head-on, but without ever using the p-word.
Granite jawed Patrick Allen moves to an isolated and close-knit town to take up his new job as headmaster of the local high school, bringing with him his awfully prim and proper British wife Gwen Watford and their unfeasibly well-spoken 9 year old daughter Jean. They've barely finished unpacking when Jean comes home and tells them that she and a friend have stripped naked and danced for an old man who gave them sweets as a reward.
Their outrage turns to disbelief when they're advised by the local police chief not to press charges because the accused is patriarch of the wealthy and powerful Oldeberry family which has deep roots in the community.  When the parents insist on taking the case to court they discover just how ruthless the Oldeberrys are prepared to be to protect their reputation.
Director Cyril Frankel takes his cue from the film's no nonsense title and lays out the narrative in a very straightforward style where A leads to B leads to C, but he also resists the temptation to sensationalize the distasteful subject matter. Even Jean's understandably distressed and angry father acknowledges that pedophilia is an illness requiring treatment, and the story never so much as hints at the notion of vigilante style retribution as the solution.
About as close as the film gets to taking a tabloid approach to the issue is in its portrayal of the accused. Old man Oldeberry is presented as a slimmed-down, silent and senile Sydney Greenstreet-like figure, clad in a rumpled white linen suit lurching through the woods clutching a grubby paper bag of candy. His obvious difference makes it somehow easier to accept him as a child molester.
So why exactly was I so surprised by all this? NEVER TAKE SWEETS FROM A STRANGER was first released fifty years ago at a time when the public attitude towards such an issue was far from well-informed or enlightened, and it was made by a studio - Hammer - better known for technicolour horror movies than serious social commentary.
In light of this it's not surprising that the film was not well received by audiences in 1960, but it's worth checking out as an example of mainstream cinema trying something different rather than simply pandering to the lowest common denominator.

AFTER LIFE: more questions asked than answered

There's no escape from bureaucracy even after death if AFTER LIFE is to be believed.
Rather than shuffling off this mortal coil and straight through the doorway to either heaven or hell there's a waiting room in a drab school building, an interview and some homework to be navigated first.
This low budget 1998 Japanese drama, shot in a semi-documentary style, follows a group of recently deceased people as they pass through this nondescript way station en route to eternity. Each of them is assigned to a caseworker who, after notifying them officially that they are dead, asks them to choose one memory from their life to take with them into the here-after.

Once selected, the caseworker and his colleagues will recreate the memory in a short film to be screened to the deceased before every other memory is erased from their mind and they're sent on their way.
For some it's an easy decision while others struggle to recall anything meaningful or worthwhile despite encouragement and gentle guidance from their caseworker.
AFTER LIFE's concept of an afterworld run by civil servants through which the newly dead are forced to transit is nothing new. I was reminded of the 1944 Warner Brothers drama "Between Two Worlds" with the wonderful Sydney Greenstreet as the white suited celestial examiner whose stamp of approval was required to pass through the Pearly Gates.
But in director Hirokazu Koreeda's imagining we are not judged for our actions on Earth nor asked to justify our behaviour. The task of the caseworkers here is not to determine who is worthy of heaven and who should be damned to hell. In fact it's made clear early on that these alternatives don't even exist. Their job is to encourage each of the deceased to review the entire span of their life and come to a thoughtful decision on which moment of it was really most important to them. Which one memory will keep them happy through all eternity.
There's much here to engage our curiosity, from the participants' complete lack of distress at being dead, to grappling with the idea of being burdened with just one memory for the rest of time and beyond. Surely even the happiest recollection will eventually drive you mad if it's the replayed over and over with no ability to switch it off.
AFTER LIFE also leaves the notion of the ultimate hereafter to our imagination. No one expresses any interest in their final destination and no information is offered. Perhaps the dead are too engrossed in appraising their past to wonder about the future.
What I found most disconcerting is that this after life appears to exist on the same plane as life as we know it now. Traffic passes by on the street beyond the school and, in one sequence, a young caseworker walks into the city centre and looks in shop windows as the yet-to-be-deceased pass her by without reaction. She is a ghost in their midst, visible yet unseen.
This all adds up to a story that will frustrate those who insist on a strong degree of closure at the end of their films. The relentless focus on the everyday, sometimes mundane, activities of the caseworkers and their clients leaves no time for exploration of metaphysical ideas of life after death. 
That's not a criticism it's a compliment because it leaves us space for our imagination to roam. Thought-provoking and tender yet unsentimental, AFTER LIFE will definitely provoke reflection and debate.

BACKGROUND TO DANGER: of all the films in all the world they chose to rip-off "Casablanca."

First released in July 1943, BACKGROUND TO DANGER was a calculated - and some might say cynical - attempt by Warner Bros to replicate the enormous box office success of "Casablanca"a few months earlier.
Beyond a shift in locale from Vichy ruled French Morocco to officially neutral Turkey the studio made very little attempt to disguise the origins of this tale of wartime espionage, intrigue and betrayal. Both films open with the same studio voice intoning over a map of the action, and close with a plane, carrying some of the main characters, taking off for further adventures in support of the fight for freedom. And inbetween, "Casablanca" cast members Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre return in characteristically malevolent roles, supporting an American hero,  the exotic female object of his affections and their search for vital missing documents.
Unfortunately, where "Casablanca" had Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman in those key roles, BACKGROUND TO DANGER is stuck with George Raft and Brenda Marshall. Raft was not as wooden as he's sometimes made out to be but his emotional range was limited. Whether he's being smacked about by Nazi thugs or making nice with a young lady, his expression and delivery are exactly the same. In his defence, Brenda Russell, as a Russian agent who may or may not be in the pay of the Nazis, exudes all the seductive charm you'd expect from a woman named Brenda so there's really not much incentive for Raft to change his expression.

But beyond the complete lack of chemistry between two deeply uncharismatic leading actors there's also the story which is rushed and hopelessly muddled. Even with the characters pausing frequently to deliver large blocks of expositional dialogue I still lost track of what everyone was worked up about and shortly afterwards stopped caring.
Greenstreet's bizarrely named Nazi heavy Colonel Robinson is nothing more than a retread of his Casper Gutman from "The Maltese Falcon" with a faint German accent and a pencil moustache. Director Raoul Walsh even replicates the shot-from-below-looking-up camera angles used by John Huston in that film to emphasise Greenstreet's girth.  
It's possible also to detect traces of the "Falcon's" Joel Cairo in Lorre's character, but the overwhelming sensation is of an actor who's bored and frustrated with a badly written part.
Even disregarding the inevitable comparisons to "Casablanca" there's enough rope here for BACKGROUND TO DANGER to hang itself with.Ill-advised and poorly executed, the film richly deserves its anonymity.

CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT: the dream factory has Christmas all wrapped up

A word of caution about CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT - don't watch this film on an empty stomach. There's so much talk about juicy steaks, roasted chickens and chocolate cakes topped with ice cream, that it'll send you running to the kitchen to raid the fridge.

Food is the thread that pulls together the disparate elements of this World War II comedy - a shipwrecked sailor, a magazine columnist, a pompous architect, an overweight publisher, and an equally rotund Hungarian restaurateur with a knack for mangling the English language.

The sailor is Jefferson Jones (Dennis Morgan), hailed as a hero by the newspapers for surviving 18 days on a life-raft after his destroyer is torpedoed by a German U-boat. Recuperating in hospital, Jones reveals he's never had a real family and dreams of spending a traditional Christmas surrounded by loved ones and large amounts of delicious home cooking.

Spotting a golden opportunity for publicity, Alexander Yardley (the wonderful Sydney Greenstreet), publisher of the bestselling magazine "Smart Housekeeping", bullies his star columnist Elizabeth Lane (the equally wonderful Barbara Stanwyck), into inviting the sailor to join her and her perfect family for the holidays at their perfect farmhouse in Connecticut.

Lane is the Martha Stewart of 1940s magazine cookery writing. Her weekly column with its gushing references to her husband, infant son, and their idyllic home, is read and admired by millions of Americans. But Elizabeth is hiding a very guilty secret. She has no husband, child or farmhouse and - even worse - she can't cook. All her recipes are created by a Hungarian restaurant owner called Felix (S.Z.Sakall).

Yardley's edict, and his decision to join the Lanes for Christmas himself, sets in motion a comedy of errors which keeps the story bubbling merrily for the ensuing 90 minutes.

Originally released by Warner Brothers in mid 1945, CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT is a superb example of the Hollywood studio system's ability to create entertainment that was both escapist and rooted in the reality of a world coming to the end of a devastating world war.

The film taps into the hopes and dreams of hundreds of thousands of families looking forward to a reunion with husbands, sons and fathers after four Christmases apart while they were away fighting for their country and for freedom. Jones' story reminds audiences just why the sacrifices were necessary, and anticipates to a brighter future when the grimness of war would be banished to history, and people could concentrate on the simple human pleasures of friendship, love and food.

Even if a traditional Christmas is not in your plans this film is guaranteed to lift your spirits, and that is due in very large part to the wonderful and extraordinarily talented cast of actors who have since become Hollywood legends.

Stanwyck is an absolute delight as Elizabeth Lane. One of the most versatile female stars of the 30s and 40s she was as deft at comedy as she was at film noir. In fact CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT was her first film since starring as cold-hearted femme fatale Phyllis Dietrichson in "Double Indemnity."

The same is true of Sydney Greenstreet. Typecast as the sinister heavy is films like "The Maltese Falcon", "Casablanca", and "Passage to Marseille," he reveals an unexpected talent for light comedy as the overbearing boss who's really a giant teddy bear.

Acting alongside these two powerhouses could have easily overwhelmed the lightweight and non-descript Morgan so it's to his credit that he more than holds his own and succeeds in making Jones likeable and credible as the everyman who is naive yet also charismatic enough to seduce the leading lady.

Warmhearted, funny and full of affection, CHRISTMAS IN CONNECTICUT simply oozes Yuletide cheer.

It's a film to fall in love with.

MALAYA: one swansong and one very odd couple

I had one reason only to watch MALAYA - Sydney Greenstreet. This 1949 MGM War World Two drama (known as "East of the Rising Sun" in the UK) features the final screen appearance of my all-time favourite character actor, and I wanted to see how he signs off.
I have no idea whether he knew at the time that this would be his last movie, but he goes out in a reasonable amount of style. Playing a character called "The Dutchman" even though there's nothing remotely Dutch about him, he effortlessly dominates every scene he's in, which is no small accomplishment given that he sharing the screen with co-stars of the calibre of Spencer Tracy and James Stewart. 
Despite this it's certainly not an outstanding performance. The Dutchman is little more than a watery retread of his Senor Ferrari in "Casablanca" and Greenstreet seems rather listless. It was illness which prompted his retirement and it's possible that he was unwell at the time of shooting, although it's hard to be sure since the tropical setting requires that he look sweaty all the time.  
Aside from Greenstreet's swansong, the only other element of any interest in MALAYA is the unusual pairing of Tracy and Stewart. The two stars get equal billing in the opening titles and it's Stewart who does the early running as a journalist with a plan to steal a large amount of desperately needed rubber from under the noses of the Japanese forces occupying Malaya.
To close the deal Stewart needs the help of a con called Carnaghan, played by Tracy. 
This is where the only other item of interest comes in, because the moment he first appears on screen he grabs the film off Stewart and never hands it back. Stewart wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders to begin with but when Tracy appears he simply gives up completely, relegating himself to a colourless supporting role which could have been played by any number of lesser lights in MGM's sizeable stable of star names.
What makes this situation even more bizarre is that the character of Carnaghan is not even a comfortable fit for Tracy. Carnaghan's a supremely confident, two-fisted ladies man with no conception of danger. He treats the Japanese military like a bunch of third rate punks who just need to have their collective ass whupped a couple of times to understand who's boss. While everyone around him's focusing on the deadly serious subject of trying to win World War Two, Tracy's playing the whole thing for laughs.
To add insult to Stewart's injury it's also Tracy who gets to get the girl, even though he looks more like Valentina Cortese's grandfather than her lover. 
MALAYA really is a bad deal all round for Stewart. 

ACROSS THE PACIFIC: Bogart begins to bloom

First released in 1942, ACROSS THE PACIFIC is a fascinating film because it portrays a superstar in the making – not yet fully formed but about to blossom from a caterpillar into a butterfly.

With "The Maltese Falcon" the previous year, Humphrey Bogart demonstrated he had the star quality to carry a film. His rather slapdash performance here indicates that confidence had possibly gone to his head a little (or maybe more accurately to the heads of Warner Bros who controlled Bogie's career), but by the time he made "Casablanca" (immediately after PACIFIC) all the components were in place to create the legend he became.

Set in November 1941, ACROSS THE PACIFIC sees him playing disgraced US Army officer Rick Leland. Dishonorably discharged from the service, he boards a Japanese freighter bound for the Orient, hoping to start a new life.

The only other passengers are his "Maltese Falcon" co-stars Mary Astor and Sydney Greenstreet.  and Dr Lorenz.

Astor is Alberta Marlow,  a breathless and excitable department store worker from Medicine Hat, Canada, taking her first big vacation. Greenstreet is Dr Lorenz, a Professor of Sociology at the University of Manila. He’s also a vocal admirer of the Japanese at a time when the Empire of the Rising Sun is edging towards war with the United States.

Rick wastes little time in romancing Alberta, while also making plain to Dr Lorenz his disillusionment with America.

It gives nothing away to reveal that this is a story about espionage and romance, themes that Warner Brothers were to blend time and time again during the early1940s. ACROSS THE PACIFIC is an enjoyable, but not classic example of the genre.

Bogart’s Rick Leland lacks the depth to make him a fully rounded character. After the progress he made the previous year with "The Maltese Falcon" and "High Sierra", Leland is a disappointing throwback to the one dimensional roles he’d been typecast in since the mid 30s.

Bogart rushes from one incident to the next without ever really convincing us he’s doing more than playing a part, while his rapid romancing of Astor comes across as a horny teenager who’s inexplicably got lucky.

His womanising as Sam Spade in "The Maltese Falcon" was credible in the context of the character. Here it isn’t.

Astor played the femme fatale in Falcon, and again portrays a woman who’s clearly not as naïve as she would have everyone believe. Marlow is a class turn, trading sexual banter with Leland within minutes of their first meeting. It's these barely disguised sexual double entendres which give this story its spark. They’re genuinely witty, which makes it more surprising that she’s also so compliant at yielding to Leland’s desires.

Dr Lorenz is a variation on Greenstreet's Kasper Gutman in "Falcon", malevolent, deceptive and ruthless, but lacking the depth he brought to his screen debut.

The overall impression is of a talented cast and director (John Huston) having fun with an undistinguished script.

If Warner Brothers had stuck with their plans to cast Ronald Reagan instead of Bogart in the lead role in "Casablanca" ACROSS THE PACIFIC would have sunk without trace decades ago. Thankfully they came to their senses and PACIFIC assumed an important place in Bogart’s rise from actor to superstar. An interesting and entertaining minor thriller, the film's serves to increase our appreciation of the films Bogart made immediately before and after it.