True to Life Film Gab

Werth: Hello, Wise.

Wise: Hello, Werth. What cinematic plans do you have for this weekend?

Werth: Well if I can recover from Film Gab favorite Chris Hill's birthday margaritas, I'd like to go see Argo.

Wise: Oh right. The new Affleck flick based on the recently declassified CIA mission to rescue U.S diplomats during the Iran hostage crisis while disguised as a Hollywood film crew.

Werth: It's perfect—real life imitating Hollywood when Hollywood has always enjoyed taking true stories and turning them into movies. But oftentimes movie-making has played fast and loose with the truth. David Lean's Oscar-winner The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) is a perfect example of a movie that people think is based on true events—but is actually more movie magic than reality.  

Kwai tells the story of a group of WWII British POWs led by stalwart Colonel Nicholson (Alec Guinness) who endure torture and starvation in order to build a bridge for their Japanese captors.

Wise: Kind of like the last time I was at Uniqlo. 

Werth: Shears, a U.S. naval officer (the oft bare-chested William Holden) escapes and is soon leading a group of commandos to blow-up the bridge that Nicholson has taken such care to build. In typical Lean fashion, nature sets a stunning backdrop for this story of human chutzpah and conflict. 

Shot mostly in the dense jungles of Ceylon, the local flora provides a very real cage to trap these men (and actors) in. If you want to grab a bottle of water while watching Lawrence of Arabia, in Kwai you want to grab a moist towelette and a flyswatter. 

Part of Lean's genius was creating all-encompassing atmosphere by replacing sets made by man with sets designed by God.

Wise: Does God get credit for set design?

Werth: The other thing Lean did very well was choose and direct amazing actors. William Holden is as brash, smart-mouthed and rugged as ever—so American he should be made of apple pie. 

Former Asian silent film star Sessue Hayakawa earned an Oscar nom for his role as camp commander Colonel Saito, a cold bastard who finds his well-run deathcamp turned upside-down by Nicholson. 

Which brings me to Guinness. The ease with which Guinness portrays Nicholson is breathtaking. This career soldier's desire for rules and regulations is so deep that he will stand quoting a copy of the Geneva Convention while his captors focus a machine gun on him and his men. 

It should come off as comical how this man justifies building a bridge for the enemy so that he can keep his men's morale up. But Guinness inhabits the unbending role so completely there is no room for comedy. He rightly earned a Best Actor Oscar for making this complex character so real.

Wise: So what about the movie isn't true?

Werth: Try most of it. There was a bridge built by British POWs over the Mae Klong River (Thailand) in 1943, but that's where the similarities end. In fact, when the movie was originally released, veterans who worked on the bridge were fairly upset at the depiction, pointing out that there was no whistling in their camp, and the real-life Col. Nicholson, Phillip Toosey, actually worked to sabotage the bridge instead of building one he could be proud of.

Wise: Long before Peter Jackson was corralling Hobbits or remaking the greatest monkey pic from the Golden Age of Hollywood, he was busy examining the inner lives 1950's teenage girls.  

Werth: Something he has in common with Errol Flynn.  

Wise: Heavenly Creatures (1994) dramatizes the notorious Parker-Hulme murder case in which two New Zealand teenagers developed an incredibly intense friendship that led to the brutal beating death of one girl's mother.  

Juliet Hulme (Kate Winslet), the privileged daughter of an English academic, and Pauline Parker (Melanie Lynskey), the beetle-browed offspring of working class parents, came from very different backgrounds, but they bond over childhood illnesses and a shared love for James Mason and Mario Lanza.  

Together they create an all-consuming fantasy world, and when their parents begin to worry that their fierce friendship would tip inevitably into lesbianism, plans were made to separate them.  Lashing out, the girls bludgeon Pauline's mother and hope to flee to Hollywood.  

Werth: It might have been easier for them to just wear tight sweaters and hang around the soda fountain.
 

Wise: This is the first film appearance of both Winslet and Lynskey, and it's incredible how committed they both are to their performances.  Winslet is by turns fragile and venomous, already displaying the talent that has made her the darling of awards season.  

And Lynskey, who has until recently been mostly confined to sidekick roles (including a long-running stint on Two and a Half Men), reveals the ferocity inside not-so-pretty girls who have something to prove.  

Werth: You'd be ferocious too if you had to act with Charlie Sheen for eight years.

Wise: But it is Peter Jackson himself who does the most amazing work here.  Writing the script with his longtime partner Fran Walsh, he finds the heart of the picture in the girls' friendship and not in the frenzy surrounding the trial.  Plus, as director, he is somehow able to seamlessly combine period piece, fantasy film, domestic drama, and murder mystery into a beautifully integrated whole. 

The film isn't about lurid details—although the scene with a brick in stocking bashing Pauline's mother's skull would turn anyone's stomach—but about the beauty and danger offered by the creative life.

Werth: Speaking of creative, I have to pick-out which flavor margarita I'm going to drink several of tonight.

Wise: Tune in next week for more salt or no-salt Film Gab!

When Irish Eyes are Gabbing

Werth: Top o' the morning to ye, Wise.

Wise: Hello there, Werth.  I'm assuming that the shamrocks and shillelagh are part of your tasteful nod to Saint Patrick's Day.  

Werth: Faith an' Begorrah!  Did ye not notice me green knickers, tailcoat and top hat?  

Wise: Very subtle.  

Werth: It's all to pay tribute to our favorite Irish actors of the silver screen. One of my favorite Irish actors has been giving us wonderful performances for almost 60 years. Apparently Peter O'Toole isn't sure if he was actually born in Ireland—he has a birth certificate from Connemara County, Ireland and Leeds, England. But with those sparkling eyes, effervescent charm and a name like O'Toole, there's no doubt where he gets his spunk.

Wise: Sounds like you're setting me up for a double O'Tendre.

Werth: O'Toole has given performances in such great films as Beckett (1964), The Lion in Winter (1968), My Favorite Year (1982), The Last Emperor (1986) and Ratatouille (2007) and has been nominated for eight Oscars—finally earning an Honorary Academy Award in 2003. But he is still best remembered for his first big role, that of T.E. Lawrence in David Lean's epic masterpiece Lawrence of Arabia (1962).

Lean had proven his visual mastery in films like Summertime (1955) and The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957). But Venice and the jungles of Indochina wilt in the hot, stark sun of the desert in Lawrence. With scenery design by God, Lean's panoramic shots of the deserts of Northern Africa are breathtaking, truly putting any green-screen chicanery to shame.

Wise: Take that, Avatar!

Werth: The scene where a lone rider appears on the horizon, approaching the thirsty Lawrence at a well takes its sweet time in showing the unknown danger approach across a stunning, but godforsaken, vista. What makes Lawrence more than just an exotic travel magazine come to life is O'Toole. With his bright blue eyes shining, O'Toole produces an electric performance. Giant close-ups of his tanned, determined face give the sky and sand dunes a run for their money. 

Wise: I'd walk 10,000 miles to get back to that. 

Werth: Many scholars have poo-pooed the story, but watching Lawrence survive the desert of the Sinai, unite Arab tribes, and give a royal butt-kicking to the Germans in World War I only to succumb to the temptations of power and fame is worth the historical inaccuracies. O'Toole does an amazing job of making Lawrence at once mythic and human.

His performance seems even more realistic when compared to his co-stars. Alec Guinness as Arab Prince Faisal in brown face and Anthony Quinn as Auda abu Tayi in said brown face with a phony hatchet nose chew the scenery in their typical fun fashion, but are too much to be believed.

Only then-newcomer Omar Sharif approaches O'Toole's sheer natural charisma in a film that visually and (with a soundtrack by Maurice Jarre) aurally overwhelms its audience, making you grasp for your green beer as the sun burns the sand.

Wise: Despite having such a temperate climate, Ireland has certainly produced some scorching hot stars.  Consider Maureen O'Hara—her flaming hair and milky skin is the stuff of movie-going legend—who used her sexuality as just one of the tools in her fully stocked acting arsenal.  For example, she isn't the star of The Parent Trap (1961), but she is the film's emotional core.   Coming after a long run of playing exotic beauties and fiery foils to John Wayne, O'Hara steps away from her history of glamorous spitfires and into the more muted territory of Maggie McKendrick, a divorced mother of twin girls, Susan and Sharon (both played with impudent charm by Hayley Mills with the help of some split screen trickery). 

The girls meet at summer camp after being separated by their parents as infants, and take an instant dislike to each other, their turbulent rivalry threatening to topple the camp into chaos.  Only later do they discover their true relationship and immediately hatch a plan to switch places and scheme to bring their parents back together.  

Werth: Giving children of divorced families everywhere the vain hope that Mommy and Daddy will get back together again after a bloody divorce.

Wise: While the first half of the film is a paean to the kind of kid-friendly hijinks that were (and continue to be) bread-and-butter to this type of Disney teen-aimed flicks, once O'Hara appears on screen, the film takes on a decidedly more adult tone.  

Werth: Yeah. She shows her ankle.

Wise: When Susan arrives in Boston to meet the mother she has never known, she discovers a prim divorcée completely unlike the masculine and free-spirited father (Brian Keith) with whom she grew up.  But through persistence (and an unfamiliarity with Brahmin social codes), she brings about a gradual defrosting, and by the time Susan and Maggie arrive in California to undo the switch, O'Hara has allowed her brittle shell to crack and allowed the more toothsome woman to emerge.  

Werth: I like my gals toothsome. 

Wise: The sensual rapport between Keith and O'Hara is frankly shocking in a kid flick, and the lustful gaze with which he appreciates her body would be lewd if it weren't comically mirrored by the droll local reverend (the marvelous Leo G. Carroll) doing the same thing.  It is also part of the movie's theme—the reunion of halves split asunder—ostensibly about the shenanigans of two tween girls each finding her twin, but more deeply about the bond between two people united in love.  

Werth: Wise, let's bond with a couple shots o' Jameson's.  

Wise: Just pass me a Shamrock Shake and we'll be sure to reunite next week for more Film Gab. 

Two Gabs in One

Wise: Hello, Werth!  

Werth: Don't say it!  

Wise: Hello? or your name?  

Werth: I know this week's blog is inspired by the release of a certain actor's new "comedy" where he plays opposite sex twins—  



Wise: Oh, Adam Sandler in Jack & Jill?  

Werth: But I was hoping we could do our blog about actors who play multiple characters without actually mentioning his name or the title of his movie.  

Wise: Now that I've mentioned he who shan't be named, can I ask what's your favorite movie with an actor playing dual roles?  

Werth: The movie I'd like to gab about doesn't have an actor playing just two roles—but eight!  

Wise: Take that, Lord Sandlermort!  

Werth: Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) opens with Dennis Price as Duke Louis D'Ascoyne Mazzini penning his memoirs from his cell the eve before his execution.  

Wise: A peppy start.  

Werth: If it weren't a dyed in the wool English comedy of manners, you'd be right. But Kind Hearts is a wonderfully dark kipper. The flashback shows Louis' mother driven out of the titled D'Ascoyne clan for having the effrontery to elope with an opera singer (played briefly by Price). 

The humiliation and the poverty of this disenfranchisement follows her and her son their entire lives until she dies of a broken spirit—even denied a burial in her own family crypt.  



Wise: Well, there's one less tale from the crypt.  

Werth: So Louis decides to get revenge (and inherit the dukedom) by knocking off the remaining members of the dastardly D'Ascoynes one at a time in ways that could only be viewed as accidental. The problem is one of scope, however. There are eight D'Ascoynes, and they are each played wonderfully by venerable British actor Alec Guinness.  

Wise: Sir Alec if you're nasty.  

Werth: Guinness is an acting whirlwind as he plays the haughty Duke, ancient Parson D'Ascoyne, flighty and drunk young Ascoyne, and even Lady Agatha—a vigilante suffragette. It's more than just a parade of wigs and makeup. Guinness gives each character, no matter how brief their appearance, a vivid send-up before Louis finishes them off in clever fashion. 

This was the first movie Guinness made for quirky Ealing Studios and he would continue working with them making sly, imaginative comedies like The Lavender Hill Mob (1951), The Ladykillers (1955) and All at Sea (1957). For an actor who was most known for his dramatic roles—  

Wise: And for Obi wan Kenobi—  

Werth: Kind Hearts is a wonderful reminder of how versatile Guinness' film work was.  

Wise: I can't compete with eight characters, so I'm going to dial it back down to two. Vertigo (1958) has been hailed by many critics as Hitchcock's best film.  

Werth: Far be it from me to disagree with critics, but I think Psycho, Rebecca, Lifeboat even The Birds are all tighter Hitchcock films.  

Wise: That may be true, but I think the rabid response has a lot to do with Vertigo's richness, both in cinematic design and in theme: a man deathly afraid of heights suddenly finds himself falling inexorably in love.  

Werth: I fall in love with Judith Anderson every time I watch Rebecca.  

Wise: James Stewart plays John "Scottie" Ferguson, a San Francisco police detective who is forced to retire from the force when a sudden attack of acrophobia paralyzes him while pursuing a suspect and causes his partner to tumble to his death.  

Werth: Which would make for an awkward retirement party.  

Wise: Bored and still suffering the aftereffects of the trauma, Scottie reluctantly agrees to tail Madeleine (Kim Novak), the icy blond wife of an old acquaintance.  The husband believes that Madeleine has been possessed by one of her ancestors, and after a series of increasingly bizarre events, Scottie witnesses Madeleine plunge to her death.  

Werth: That would be even more awkward.  

Wise: Obsessed with Madeleine's death, Scottie prowls the streets, haunted by her image until he spots redheaded Judy Barton (also Kim Novak) whom he transforms into the image of his deceased love.  

Werth: Which is where the movie falls apart for me because Novak is unrecognizable as Judy and it's impossible to see how anyone would recognize her as Madeleine's doppelganger.  



Wise: I have to agree with you.  It's a big stumbling block to the success of the picture because it somehow violates the point of actors doubling roles: the audience has to immediately recognize the similarities for it to make sense.  

Werth: And don't get me started on the ending... 

Wise: I won't, so why don't we just start ending this week's multiple personality Film Gab?

Werth: Tune in next week faithful Film Gab Readers, when we won't mention the Dark Lord of dufus comedy.

Photo of movie poster in the NYC Subway.