Ain't No Drama Like a Period Drama

To get us all into the Christmas spirit, Film Forum is showing a new 4K restoration of one of my all-time favorite movies, The Lion in Winter (1968). I love period dramas. They allow us to be transported back to a time where there were no xylophone ringtones, Kardashians, or Cheeto-colored despots- I mean there were despots- they just weren't orange.

So here are my picks for Top 5 Period Dramas:




The Scarlet Empress (1934)

Marlene Dietrich and Josef von Sternberg were a team made in cinematic heaven. No one understood how to shoot and light Dietrich in as affecting a way as Sternberg, and no actress could match Dietrich's screen presence to bring Sternberg's black and white fever dreams to stunning life. Their sixth film outing was the story of Russia's Catherine the Great with Dietrich playing the czarina from a young maid (pincurls and a wide-eyed gaze weren't enough to convince anyone that Dietrich was sixteen) up until she took the reigns of power.

This film is less about history and more about Sternberg's visual design. The Russian palace is a mindbending treasure trove of icons and Goya-esque statuary. As Catherine roams the halls in finery that would make PETA see red, she at first seems like an innocent lost in a twisted world where male power distorts everything it touches. But soon Catherine learns how her sex gives her a unique tool to get what she wants and usurps the plots of her wackadoo husband, Peter (played with lurid insanity by Sam Jaffe).

With the help of the tight-pantsed Count Alexei (John Lodge before he became a Republican Congressman) and an army full of men that she has seduced, Catherine saves herself and Mother Russia all while riding a horse in full military regalia. It puts any picture of Putin on a horse to shame.

The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939)

Bette Davis was considered the Queen of the Warner Brothers lot, so it makes sense that she was cast as an actual queen in Michael Curtiz's historical epic about England's Queen Elizabeth I.  Since classic Hollywood plotlines usually had to include a romance, the script focused on Elizabeth's dalliance with the Earl of Essex (Errol Flynn proving yet again that he was one of the most entertaining stars of the time). The romance as depicted ran hot and cold with the passions at both extremes playing right into Davis' wheelhouse. It also didn't hurt that Davis and Flynn didn't really get along, so scoldings and slaps have an extra bite to them.

Davis carries herself regally, thrusting her hips as she walks in the voluminous gowns that Orry-Kelly strapped her into. Press releases at the time gabbed that the costumes were so heavy that Davis was losing a couple pounds a day. Behind the period garb, the red wigs, and partially shaved head (Davis complained her eyebrows never grew back right) Davis gives a royal performance with her bouts of bravura counterbalanced by moments of loss and realized duty. With fine support from Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, and Donald Crisp, this Elizabeth is an excellent example of Hollywood studio filmmaking during its Golden Age. And while historians might pull their hair out watching it, it's a good film for those of us who prefer Hollywood Queens to British ones.

The Lion in Winter (1968)

As mentioned at the top, Lion in Winter is one of my favorite movies. Based on the James Goldman play, Lion details a Christmas late in the reign of Richard II (Peter O'Toole) when the royal family converges on a castle in Chinon to connive, buttkiss, and doublecross each other in the hopes of gaining the throne once dear Richard kicks the bucket. The dialogue is sly and vicious ("What shall we hang? The holly or each other?") and is lifted almost word-for-word from Goldman's play. But what really makes this movie special, is the performances.

Kate Hepburn's performance as Eleanor of Aquitaine is my favorite in a career full of extraordinary work. Hepburn by this time had become an older woman, and in her eyes we see the acceptance of fading beauty, the fierce desire to fight it, and memories of triumphs long gone. Her monologue in the mirror is heartbreaking- but inspiring- proving that as long as you can still put on your crown, you can rule the world. She would win her 3rd Oscar that year- splitting the honor with Barbra Streisand for her star-making turn in Funny Girl.

O'Toole is wonderful as a scamp king who intends to keep everyone guessing until he wins, and the supporting cast of Nigel Terry, John Castle, Anthony Hopkins, and Timothy Dalton are fantastic. John Barry's haunting period soundtrack uses horns, drums, and voices to evoke the faded glory of the past.

Lion was a product of a new era in filmmaking where realism was preferred over giant furs and double-wide dresses. The sets and costumes are much truer to the period- with dirt, wear and tear, and function over form the order of the day. The castle looks like it was ancient when Richard moved in, and the dogs and peasants run around like they own the place. It was a style that would inspire future historical dramas by placing the focus on story and performance over romanticized costumes and sets.

Amadeus (1984)

If we are to believe Milos Forman's Oscar-winning film about the life of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Mozart was an asshole. But since the story is told from the perspective of Mozart rival, Antonio Salieri, historians should take it for granted that this tale might be a bit skewed.

The film opens on Salieri (Oscar-winner F. Murray Abraham) a decrepit old man whose suicide attempt has landed him in an insane asylum where he gives a lengthy confession to a priest about his frenemy-ship with Mozart (Oscar-nominee Tom Hulce).

Salieri's flashback paints the young musical genius as a l'enfant terrible- a cackling bacchanalian whose taste for wine  and women is only outdone by his talent for writing song. As Salieri watches his career become overshadowed by this squealing vulgarity, he devises a plot to rid himself of this blight on proper music.

Amadeus is great fun to watch. Forman lavishly presents a classical music god in a less-than-flattering- human light while at the same time maintaining his admiration for the man's work.

This irreverent takedown of an idol was met with critical praise and earned 8 Oscar awards. Perhaps less known (and less appreciated) is its influence on my laugh- which I suspect was inspired by my watching of this film at an impressionable age.

Dangerous Liaisons (1988)

Maybe I just have a thing for period pieces, but I also adore this revenge tale about the sexual intrigues of the 18th Century 1%.  The Marquise de Merteuil (Glenn Close) and the Vicomte de Valmont (the sensationally slimy John Malkovich) are bored so they decide to make a bet on whether Valmont can seduce the wife of one of the Marquise's ex-lovers.

Gauntlet and undies are thrown down as Valmont endeavors to win the favor of the upstanding Madame de Tourvel (luminous Michelle Pfeiffer) at his aunt's country home. But affairs of the heart rarely go as planned- even in an intricate game played by masters of seduction.

Liaisons is a fantastic script with wonderful twists and delicious, venom-filled dialogue that almost burns through the celluloid. All the actors are superb (Uma Thurman, Swoosie Kurtz, and Mildred Natwick among them)- with the exception of Keanu Reeves who while quite fetching in wig and tights has problems transferring his Ted voice to a French music teacher.

But the real heart of this film is Glenn Close. Close often plays frosty dames whose interiors are masked by a brittle, smiling facade. But her Marquise is an exquisite human clockwork whose heart was long ago disposed of because it got in the way of her survival. Her downfall is portrayed with devastated shock, and her final moments of the film are heartbreaking. She lost the Oscar that year to Jodie Foster in The Accused- and I still think Close should have won.

I am headed home for some good old fashioned Werth Family holiday hijinx, so there will be no post next week.

But in the meantime, from me to you- Happy Holidays!

Happy Birthday, Mr. Huston!

They don't make 'em like John Huston anymore. The writer/director/actor was legendary for his hard-drinking, womanizing, and caution-thrown-to-the-wind lifestyle that resembled one of the characters from his movies. But the man knew how to make a movie and in particular, was masterful at leading actors to Oscars. Fifteen actors were nominated under his direction, and four of them won- including his father Walter and daughter Anjelica.

His style evolved over the years- but always maintained a certain grittiness- a desire to show the rougher side of the human soul. With nine nominations and two Oscar wins, Huston was well-regarded during his own lifetime and his The Maltese Falcon (1941) is considered the archetype for film noir- even if that designation is arguable.

So in honor of what would be Mr. Huston's 110th birthday, here are my Top 5 Hustons (minus Maltese Falcon which my faithful readers will recall I previously opined on.)

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)

Based on a novel by B. Traven, Treasure stars Humphrey Bogart, Tim Holt, and Walter Huston as a trio of down-on-their luck Americans in Mexico who tramp into the mountains to mine some easy gold. But nothing goes quite as planned and soon bandits, thirst, and good old fashioned greed tear the group apart proving that what glitters might be gold, but gold ultimately sucks.

Huston made the choice to film on location in Mexico- something that gave studio boss Jack Warner agita. But the stark look of the Mexican wilderness is perfect for the dark themes of the film, the hot sun scorching the humanity of these characters while at the same time acting as a visual metaphor for the wasted desolation left after greed burns everything else away.

Huston wanted his actors to be more realistic, so  he convinced his father to do the role of Howard without his false teeth. The dedication to gritty realness makes this film stand-out from other studio product of the time- and it made an impact with critics and the Oscars. Treasure took home three golden statues- two for John as Best Director and Best Adapted Screenplay and one for his old pa.

Walter accepted the award saying, "Many, many years ago, I brought up a boy and I said to him, 'Son, if you ever become a writer, try to write a good part for your old man sometime'. Well, by cracky, that's what he did!" This shared golden moment between a son and his father would not happen again. Walter Huston died a year later, and John never won another Oscar.

Look out for the childhood cameo of future Baretta star and accused murderer, Robert Blake as a Mexican lottery ticket vendor. So much for realistic casting...






Key Largo (1948)

The first time I watched Key Largo, I thought, "Here we go again. Bogey and Bacall." But on repeated viewings, I've come to realize that while Humphrey and Lauren are the stars, it's the character actors around them that shine. Ex-soldier Frank McCloud (Bogart doing his reliable world-weary routine) goes to see his old Army pal's widow Nora (the beguiling Lauren Bacall) who runs a Key Largo hotel with her wheelchair-bound father (Lionel Barrymore grumping it up).

If the visit from the best friend of your dead husband isn't enough, Nora has to house a vicious gangster (Edward G. Robinson at his sadistic best) while a hurricane threatens to blow them all away. The ending feels eerily like the movie that Bogey and Bacall met on (To Have and Have Not (1944)), and that may be because Huston used the ending for that movie that Howard Hawks didn't shoot back in '44.

What really makes this film unique are the performances from recognizable stars playing washed-up versions of their typical screen personae. Robinson as an aging mobster who may be losing his grip, Oscar-winner Claire Trevor playing his drunken moll who has to sing for her drinks, and the always crotchety Barrymore who, if he could, would get out of his chair and do something! But you can't Lionel, you can't get out of that chair.

Unlike Treasure, Key Largo was shot almost entirely on the Warner's lot. Huston returned to the manufactured world of noir with shadows, shutters, and fog hiding faces, secrets, and desires. Where Treasure exposes greed in the hot Mexican sun, Key Largo hides it in the dark of a Florida hurricane.

Key Largo is a heck of a lot of fun, even if you have to watch Edward G. Robinson take a bath.

The African Queen (1951)

There aren't alot of movies whose shoots are worthy of a book being written about them. Certainly Gone with the Wind (1939), The Wizard of Oz (1939), Cleopatra (1963), and Apocalypse Now (1979) have spawned books, documentaries, and hours of "Making Of" segments. In 1987 Katherine Hepburn wrote a book titled The Making of "The African Queen": or how I Went to Africa with Bogart, Bacall and Almost Lost My Mind. It's a perfect illustration of the madness that Huston seemed to thrive on when making his films.

The African Queen takes place in WWI German East Africa where an uptight missionary named Rose (Hepburn, of course) finds herself marooned after Germans burn down the village she was living in and kill her brother. Crude mailboat captain Charlie Allnut (Bogart again) rescues this damsel in distress and soon finds that his plans to just get the heck out of Africa have been commandeered by his feisty passenger. Rose intends to strike a blow for Mother England and take The African Queen down the river to blow up a German battleship. A war of wills and a fight against nature bring these two opposites together as they steam towards their fate down the dark river.

Huston was determined to get as much of the real Africa into this film as possible. So much so that he hauled the cast, the boat, and the unwieldy Technicolor cameras to Uganda and the Congo. The very thought sounds nightmarish- and apparently it was. The entire crew was struck with dysentery- with the exception of Huston and Bogart.

It seems the two were spared because rather than drink the affected water, the two drank whiskey and gin. Everyone else had to suffer through vomiting and diarrhea and in one instance a black mamba in the outhouse. Scenes were shot on the actual river rapids nearly killing Hepburn when the boiler almost fell on her, and the ship itself sank twice.

Dragging bulky equipment through the wilderness, torrential rains, wild animals, and frayed nerves all worked to put an end to The African Queen. But the intrepid moviemakers soldiered on, and in the end they wound-up with a hit film that earned Bogart his only Oscar, and Hepburn and Huston more nominations. Huston received another gift during the shoot- a telegram delivered by a barefoot runner announced his wife had given birth to his daughter Anjelica in America.

The Misfits (1961)

The Misfits is often overshadowed by it's tragic place in film history as the last film made by both Clark Gable and Marilyn Monroe. While not well-received at the time, the film (especially when viewed on the big screen) is a stunning black-and-white picture that marries Huston's love of stark nature and conflicted character in a tragic tale of inevitable change.

Roslyn (Monroe) is in Reno getting a quickie divorce from a husband who "just wasn't there." Along the way she runs into toe-truck driver Guido (Eli Wallach) who convinces her and her new friend Isabelle (the always enjoyable Thelma Ritter) to join him and his mustangin' friend Gay (a not gay Clark Gable) at his unfinished house out in the Nevada desert. When they rope Perce (a much gay-er Montgomery Clift) into their group, the collection of lost souls is complete.

Like African Queen, the production history for Misfits was fraught with trouble. Monroe's marriage to Misfits author Arthur Miller was visibly falling apart, and her reliance on sleeping pills caused her to be late or not to show up at all- which angered her co-stars and her director. Huston took to gambling (as one in Nevada does) and soon his gambling debts became a liability to the production, as did his heavy drinking. Gable was frustrated with the situation and blithely said, "Working with Marilyn Monroe on The Misfits nearly gave me a heart attack." Gable died of a heart attack ten days after shooting finished.

Despite all the drama off-camera, the performances and visuals of this film are striking. Monroe has never seemed so ethereal- her blond hair and pale skin filmed up against the white desert- making her seem a part of nature. The familiar musical comedienne is nowhere to be found here. She is open and vulnerable in a way that she had never been filmed before.

Gable's performance is equally impressive in that he digs deep into a sense of despair that seems a contradiction to his normally strong, masculine screen persona. His eyes project the exhaustion and fear of a man who sees the world changing around him- into a world he no longer wants to be part of.

The Misfits feels very modern to me- and looks very much like many of the more independent features that would be coming out in the ensuing decade when the Hollywood studio machine broke down. Huston's stark black-and-white use of the Western terrain coupled with a more open, realistic acting style is an example of the changes happening in filmmaking, but they were ideas that Huston had been playing with all along.

Annie (1982)

Poor Annie. Nobody wants her. No matter how hard she tries- nobody seems to like her. And yes, I'm talking about the movie and not the redhead. I know there are alot of people out there who hate the movie version of the 1977 Broadway musical and feel about "Tomorrow" much the same way as Kathleen Turner does in Serial Mom (1994). But look at the cast! Carol Burnett, Albert Finney, Ann Reinking, Tim Curry, Bernadette Peters, and Geoffrey Holder! Edward Herrman plays FDR for God's sake! How can you not want to watch those people? And to think that this musical starring a bunch of little girls was directed by a drunken 76-year-old who hadn't really directed a musical before (unless you count the couple of dancing sequences and Zsa Zsa numbers in Moulin Rouge (1952)- How could you not want to see that?

I get that Huston is an odd choice. The producers chose him because they said he was an "outsider." Annie's insufferably chipper song-and-dance numbers could use some of that old Huston roughness. And we get that with the superb Burnett as she chugs bathtub gin, woozily spinning and clunking through her apartment bitching about "Little Girls", making out with her radio to the sound of Huston's voice.

Hannigan garners our sympathy for having to take care of these squealing moppets- even if they are underprivileged orphans. She's a wasted character that Huston knew just how to film.

The Oscar-nominated set design for the orphanage and Miss Hannigan's apartment is dingy and cheap- evoking a Depression era reality that reminds us that while Annie may seem like a sugar high hallucination, the rest of the world at that time was not fully dressed with a smile.

Even though it was critically savaged Annie garnered enough kiddie viewers to become one of the Top 10 movies of 1982- a feat Huston hadn't achieved in over a decade. Huston would direct three more films before he rode off into the sunset- Under the Volcano (1984), Prizzi's Honor (1985), and The Dead (1987) and each of them garnered Oscar nods. Not a bad way to go.


What are your favorite John Huston flicks?