She Blogged By Night

March 25th is the birthday of our favorite universally-hated comedian El Brendel, who was born in 1891. As a rather belated present to El -- he died in 1964 -- we at She Blogged By Night have created an "El Brendel" tag just for him. Click it to see all the posts that feature El.

And as a present to my loyal readers, I promise to post less about Brendel and move on to other things. It will be hard, but with a bit of work and a spot of good weather, luck and determination and the love of a good woman, I think we can do this.

Group hug, everyone?

Once again, I have a lengthy absence to apologize for. This winter was hard on me and my family -- we now have a healthy, murderous, unending loathing for many species of bacteria and viruses. It's well known that a nasty flu virus really cuts into one's goofing-around-on-the-Internet time, however, it allows for a lot of movie time while sitting on the couch under 27 afghans and covered head-to-toe in Vicks Vap-O-Rub. So you see, it hasn't been a complete loss.

I do try to post several times a month, and I promise that I will return to that grueling (heh) schedule soon, perhaps even in a day or so. In the meantime, please enjoy the fine blogs on my blogroll to the right, or even suggest some of your own in the comments.

When "The Big Trail" (1930) arrived at the house a few weeks ago, it was the last of a long string of John Wayne films I'd decided to watch for what might be called "educational purposes". To say Wayne is not my favorite actor is to understate the situation, yet I hadn't given Wayne much of a chance recently. I figured if I was going to continue to publicly state my rather strong opinion about his films and his acting ability, I should do so with at least a couple dozen Wayne films under my belt. After viewing "The High and the Mighty", "The Searchers" and "The Long Voyage Home", the arrival of "The Big Trail" was no surprise to me, although by the time I popped it into the player, I had completely forgotten my original reason for wanting to see it: my hero, El Brendel.

You've heard me say this before, and you'll hear me say it again: "The Big Trail" is not a good film. John Wayne was young, tall, and beautiful -- my gods, he was beautiful -- but he couldn't act his way out of a cool damp sack. He was clearly hired for his beefcakey attributes. This is made clear early in the film when he gets his hair wet and tousled and strikes an obvious pose for the camera. Not that I'm complaining, I'm just here to inform.

This early talkie could be used as a checklist for all the techniques that had been utilized in silents but were once again absent, thanks to the limitations of sound technology. The film features static blocking, poor dialogue, dated acting and unintentionally amusing microphone placement. The plot is thin and the tension nonexistent. This film isn't a total loss: it can always serve as a bad example.

The film begins when Breck Coleman (John Wayne) catches up with a large wagon train on the Oregon Trail. He and his old friend Zeke talk a bit, and we learn that Coleman is after the killers of his friend, a fur trapper. A "certain lowdown coyote" robbed and murdered the fur trapper, and Coleman is out for revenge, which takes him on a different trail than the wagon train: "Our trails fork here," he tells Zeke.

In some rather unsubtle editing, we immediately cut to the grizzled visage of Red Flack (Tyrone Power, Sr.), the nasty, mean, flea-ridden wagon train boss. He and his sidekick Lopez are clearly responsible for the murder of the fur trapper. Within minutes Coleman finds some of the stolen furs and suspects Red of the murder, too, so he decides to stay with the wagon trail. It helps that Coleman has just met David and Ruth (Marguerite Churchill), brother and sister who are traveling by wagon to meet their family who has gone ahead of them. Coleman immediately takes a liking to Ruth, but she is decidedly uninterested.

Bill Thorpe (Ian Keith), a Louisiana gambler, also finds Ruth attractive. Thorpe first met Ruth on their steamboat journey to meet the wagon train, and he asks her repeatedly to return to Louisiana with him. At some point early in the film, though, Thorpe's murderous past is discovered and he is told he cannot board the steamboat when it continues on to Louisiana, but he's also not allowed to stay in the port town without risking hanging. He approaches his old friend Red about his dilemma, and Red offers to let Thorpe come along on the wagon trail. He, like Coleman, plans to spend his time on the trail wooing the beautiful Ruth.

And of course there's El Brendel, who plays Gus, the "comical Swede". Gus arrives at the same time Ruth and Thorpe do, I assume on the steamboat. Gus is accompanied by his wife, her sister, and their mother. Thank goodness for the portly mother-in-law! Otherwise we wouldn't have jokes involving El carrying her large butt over some slick mud and shoving her large butt up into a wagon. Wait, was that sarcastic enough?

I shouldn't complain about El Brendel's lowbrow humor, as Brendel is clearly one of the best actors in this film. This is ironic, as I just got into a bit of a snit with someone on a film forum who was angry because he thought I considered El Brendel an actor. At the time I didn't consider him an actor, more of a comedy personality, but now I realize I was wrong: he is an actor, and is quite natural in front of the camera. His old Vaudevillian shtick just doesn't translate well into film.

Another actor, Tully Marshall as Coleman's pal Zeke, is quite good, and Ian Keith as the Louisianian is bland but competent. These three actors are the most accomplished and confident of the bunch, and they are the sole reason that this film doesn't devolve into a complete joke.

Marguerite Churchill has an astonishing lack of presence and shows occasional confusion in her motivation. As long as she's scowling she's okay, but when she gets out of that comfort zone she's clearly lost. Wayne reads every line as though he were struggling just to remember the words.

Power's gruff, nasty-looking Red is played so broadly that he's more suited for a Hal Roach comedy short than for this film. Every line Power utters is spoken in a forced, over-pronounced dialect. When he says "thar" or "whar", he says it exactly as it's spelled. Indicating a jug of liquor, Red says to Thorpe in a slow, deliberate voice: "That rum's for you and me, HAR HAR HAR!" He doesn't laugh, he instead says the word "HAR" three times in a row. It's terrible, just terrible. What the heck was Raoul Walsh doing during this film? He certainly wasn't directing his young, inexperienced, and confused cast.

Yet, like other bad movies before and since, "The Big Trail" has a definite place in movie history. It's John Wayne's first starring role, and it's a prime example of an early, epic talking film. What "The Big Trail" achieves in cinematography is important. The film was shot with the Grandeur filming system, a 70 mm early widescreen method developed by Fox Film Company. Grandeur was in use primarily in 1929-1930 and almost completely discarded by 1931, so it has a rather limited legacy.

"The Big Trail" was filmed in both standard 35 mm Movietone process and 70 mm Grandeur, so there are two versions of the film in existence. Probably the most famous Fox film to be filmed in both Movietone and Grandeur is "The Bat Whispers"; you can see a comparison of the title screens in 35 mm versus 70 mm here at the Widescreen Museum. Cinematographer Arthur Edeson wrote an article about the use of Grandeur during filming of "The Big Trail", which you can read here, also thanks to the Widescreen Museum.

The version available on DVD is the Movietone version, although I have heard that Fox Movie Channel shows the Grandeur version of "The Big Trail" on occasion. Unfortunately I just didn't know enough about "The Big Trail" to go searching for the Grandeur version before watching it. According to several sources, many scenes available in the Grandeur version of "The Big Trail" are not shown in the Movietone version. This includes two El Brendel scenes, but that's okay; we didn't need more fat mother-in-law jokes, anyway.

Many of the scenic shots are nice in the Movietone version, but I would love to have seen them in Grandeur. In Movietone, the backgrounds look flat and lifeless, almost like backdrops, as you can see in the footage filmed at Devil's Tower. The foreground action is spectacular, though, especially for a 1930 film. It gives it a modern feel which is a stark contrast to the old-fashioned intertitles that pepper the film.

The scene where the wagon train first moves out is enormous in scope and a real treat to watch. Later scenes with buffalo are the same. Unfortunately, these scenes are nearly ruined by incompetence. First, the microphone placement is so poor that you can hardly hear the sound of the wagons or buffalo. Instead, you can clearly hear a single extra hooting and hollering in authentic frontier gibberish, drowning out almost all other sounds. The second problem is the editor's decision to use fast motion. It's distracting and, let's face it, fast motion has never achieved anything but laughter. It's great for "The Munsters" but not for a serious film.

Once on the trail, very little happens. Coleman tries to woo Ruth, but she is only hostile toward him. Red and Lopez realize Coleman knows they killed the fur trader, so they decide to get their Louisianian friend Thorpe to murder Coleman to save their hides. (No pun.) Gus provides humor on occasion, first when his wagon falls off a cliff -- his mother-in-law was unfortunately not in the wagon at the time -- and later when his wife has twins. He's pleased to discover they're both his, and he celebrates by having two drinks, one for each twin. The wagon train survives an Indian attack and crosses a harsh desert on the way to California.

Meanwhile, Coleman's friend Zeke discovers Thorpe's plan to shoot Coleman. Zeke shoots Thorpe while he's searching for Coleman, but complications arise when Ruth's brother sees Thorpe get shot but doesn't see the shooter. When he tells Ruth, she assumes Coleman murdered Thorpe in cold blood. She tells everyone that Coleman is a murderer, and when Coleman returns from a walk in the woods, the wagon train has decided to hang him. Zeke intervenes and tells them what really happened and why. Both Zeke and Coleman are spared, of course, and Ruth realizes she's been wrong about Coleman all along, and you know what that means: true love.


Later that night Lopez tries to kill Coleman but fails. Figuring their luck is up, he and Red run off into the winter to escape Coleman's (and the wagon train's) wrath. Coleman goes after them the next morning after saying goodbye to Ruth, telling her "Our trails will cross again." During the chase, Lopez becomes frostbitten and falls into the snow, unable to go on. The evil Red leaves Lopez to die as he screams and begs not to be left alone, but not before taking all the valuable furs off Lopez' body.

Coleman comes across the frozen stiff body of Lopez and continues on until he catches up with Red who, under cover of a very obvious snow machine, is skulking about the wilderness. Coleman shoots Red Flack, who dies in the traditionally bad silent movie way: hands straight up in the air and twirling. Coleman returns to Ruth, who has set up home in a cabin in California, and all is well.

A bit of a personal note is in order. I've been working on this post for more than a week, but have had no motivation to finish it. I could not get interested in this movie. It was just one in a long line of bad films I've recently watched in an attempt to educate myself in film. And that's what this blog is: a record of my travel through the world of (mostly) American films. I focus on films and actors which are lesser-known or almost impossible to find because I want to provide information that may not be widely available. What I've discovered is that not all hard-to-find films, not even the ones recommended to me by fellow cinephiles, are the kind of films to agree with me. I really pushed it too far with this recent John Wayne project of mine; I failed to recognize my own limitations.

So instead of getting bogged down in all this no-good not-fun nonsense, I plan on taking a diversion through my old friends Cult Films and Pre-Code Films. I want to watch and blog about a bad film that is fun, maybe even a little naughty. Every effort will be made to keep things safe-for-work, but I may push the limits now and again. I hope it will still be entertaining for my loyal readers, and it may be more educational, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to watch "Road House".

Just a quick note to let you know that I am still here. I recently acquired a rather exhausting illness (bronchitis: it's FANtastic) and I haven't been able to update, but I promise I have some early John Wayne beefcake in store for you, once I've coughed up what's left of my lungs. Please stay tuned.

When doing research for a post, I often find myself with a multitude of pictures, all of which I want to use. The reality is that many of these images are discarded for lack of space. I thought it might be kind of fun on this lazy Friday afternoon to post those leftover photos. Some of these photos are shrunk down, and you can see the originals by clicking directly on the picture.

The sources of these photos is varied. Some are screencaps I made from a film, are scanned from books or clipped from ebooks, others were found on the web, others on eBay. Many are photos I found over the years and saved, but it's been so long ago that I couldn't tell you anything else about them. If I know the exact source I'll note it here.

Composing a post takes time, that's why I don't update daily. Often I have grand, sweeping ideas for a series of entries on a common theme, yet those ideas get abandoned quickly once I realize the time and effort required. For instance, my recent post on "Doll Face" was going to be part of a series on Gypsy Rose Lee. I had planned to watch "Doll Face", re-watch "Lady of Burlesque", read The G-String Murders, and find clips of Lee in cameo appearances. While I will probably revisit her in the future, I discovered that all things Gypsy -- her movies, stage plays, books, and biographies -- were essentially the same story told slightly differently. I knew I couldn't get enough material for a series, so I abandoned the idea. The end result is a host of unused notes and photos, like this one of Lee as she appeared in "The Trouble with Angels" (1966).

Before I started this "official" blog, I fiddled around a bit over on Stacia's Stuff. One of my first projects was to prove that the lady in the photo of Mrs. Potter on "M*A*S*H" was not Spring Byington, as many claimed. This post has gone through several edits and reformatting changes, mostly due to layout modifications, ultimately losing the picture you see on the right. That's Byington with Francis Rafferty from the TV show "December Bride".

Here's a screencap from "The Big Heat" (1953), which I blogged about here. I really liked this cap, I thought it was a terrific illustration of how cavalier and dismissive Glenn Ford's character was, at the expense of the women in his life and the women involved in the case. That's actress Dorothy Green in her first film role. (Note: I previously identified her as Jeannette Nolan, but this was corrected, thanks to reader burlivespipe! Nolan's first screen appearance was as Lady Macbeth in Orson Welles' 1948 film, and who guest starred in many dozens of major television shows from the 1950s to the 1980s. She's the mother of actor Tim McIntire, whom she outlived by 14 years, and someone who will likely be featured here in the future.) Dorothy Green went on to guest star in many TV shows and was an original cast member of "The Young and the Restless". I have a terrible time comparing and remembering faces, but once I realized this was Green and not Nolan, I recognized her from Y&R episodes I saw when I was a little girl.

One of my favorite posts was on the 1930 atrocity "Just Imagine". Yes, I make the movie sound absolutely terrible, but I'm not sure I've ever properly conveyed just how much I love terrible movies. "Just Imagine" has some amazing moments though, and I think one of my favorites has to be El Brendel's sheepish look when the guard Loko starts hitting on him. (See my post on "Just Imagine" for a screencap.) Much to the chagrin of, well, everybody, I have a soft spot in my brain heart for Brendel. One of my biggest problems with "Just Imagine" were the bland, lifeless leads Maureen O'Sullivan and John Garrick. O'Sullivan was at least cute and had some fabulous dresses. Garrick made almost no impression on me whatsoever, and even now I don't recognize him when I see him in other films. I had so many photos for "Just Imagine" that I couldn't use them all, so some neat things like this promotional still were cast aside. I suspect I got this from amy_jeanne at Livejournal. It features O'Sullivan and Garrick in 1930s street clothes instead of their futuristic outfits, which is a shame.

Ah, "Fitzwilly". That was a fun post for several reasons. First, I couldn't convince my husband to watch the film with me. He's got a strict "No Dick Van Dyke" policy when it comes to movies, which is a shame. He was scarred for life after a childhood viewing of "Mary Poppins", you see. Second, in researching the film I stumbled across Jack Pendarvis' blog, which I find unendingly amusing, but also frustrating because you cannot email or contact him via the blog. That's why I am shamelessly name-dropping in hopes he will see this, because I want to ask him if he knows Jim Neibaur and, if not, why not? He and Jim both share a love for Jerry Lewis, which I think is crazy talk -- why waste time with Lewis when you can watch the comedy stylings of El Brendel? (Please don't send me ASCII email bombs for saying that.) Anyway, back to the topic: I have a spare screencap from "Fitzwilly" of Barbara Feldon, who I was actually quite taken with in the film. The banter between her and her professor father was the best part of "Fitzwilly". Also, it's impossible to not be charmed by Feldon in those glasses.

This next picture is actually a still from the biography of Samuel Goldwyn, "The Man and His Movies" (2001). It's a photo of Goldwyn with United Artist founders Mary Pickford, Charlie Chaplin and Douglas Fairbanks (D.W. Griffith is not pictured). I read the book this biography was based on a few years ago and quite enjoyed it. Actually, it was read under rather sad circumstances -- it was in the library of the Hospice House where my mother was at the time, and as I was alone with her for days at a time, I needed a book to keep me sane. The book is quite lengthy and rather engrossing for a film buff like me, so it was the perfect read... as much as there could be a "perfect read" in those circumstances. I admit I may have had unreasonable hopes for the film version of the bio, but I was slightly disappointed in it. The interviews with Goldwyn's son Sam, Jr. and daughter Ruth definitely made it worthwhile, though.



The last picture is a publicity still for "Wife Vs. Secretary" (1936). I recently saw this still on a friend's LiveJournal, and when I went to save it, discovered I had a copy already. It was saved under some odd name, which is why I apparently forgot it when doing my original post. That's a shame, too, because this is a great still, and I always wish I'd had better pictures for that post.

Thus ends my post of random photos for a random Friday evening. Stay tuned for future posts which may have actual content!

As some of you know, I live in Kansas, which has been pummeled by ice most fierce for a couple of days. My Internet connection and power have been intermittent, which is why I haven't regaled you with more overly-long posts about half-forgotten entertainers that have a fan base of maybe two dozen people.

That doesn't mean I don't care about you, gentle readers. Today I decided to compile a few links of websites I enjoy, just for you. I know work is boring, especially when it's cold and dreary and you'd rather be home snuggling with your honey, or with something fuzzy... or with your fuzzy honey. Hey, who am I to judge?


Anyway, here are a bunch of links to keep you happy for days to come.

Pulp of the Day is one of my favorite all-graphics sites. To get to the archives, pick a month, then click "yesterday" or "tomorrow" above the image. I tell you this because it took me a while to figure out. The pulp image above was shamefully stolen from their archives.

Paleo-Future is a terrific site featuring the past's version of what our future would look like. Excellent stuff. I'm particularly fond of their House of the Future posts. Unfortunately I don't remember where I got this neat picture, but it was so detailed that it would have been a shame to shrink it down. I hope you'll forgive me for the large picture.

I can't say enough great stuff about Thrilling Days of Yesteryear. There's enough there to keep you busy for a decade. Not only is the content amazing, but once you read through his archives, take a gander at his massive (heh) sidebar.

How about several links on the 1939 World's Fair? Good, glad you agree with me. This site from about the 1939 World's Fair, including the famous Futurama exhibit, is lots of fun. Here's a gallery of images from the Futurama exhibit, and here's another gallery that tours the entire fair.

And, finally, if you're curious about what my ice-covered house and neighborhood looks like, you can find out here.

This morning while nursing a cold, I found myself watching Robert Montgomery and Franchot Tone trying to out-suave each other in the 1935 romantic comedy "No More Ladies" (pictured.) It's a fun enough movie, but it's difficult to not make fun of a film which consists mostly of one handsome man in a tuxedo and slicked-back hair try to be more sophisticated and charming than another handsome man in a tuxedo and slicked-back hair. Joan Crawford adds to the fun by wearing a dress with a stiff white collar that must be at least 4 feet wide. I am not exaggerating. Her false eyelashes are the longest and silliest I've ever seen in a 1930s film, and while they look nice enough from a distance, if the camera comes in for even a medium shot of Crawford, they're so noticeable as to be distracting.

While mentally measuring Crawford's lashes (Good gravy, those things are, what, 2 inches long? More? And didn't anyone laugh at that enormous collar back in '35?!) it occurred to me that my previously-announced hiatus is going to last much longer than one week. Thanks to a snucky cold, school work, and an upcoming vacation, I may not have any significant updates for several more days.

In the interest of keeping my devoted readers happy, I thought I'd leave you with a few tidbits of things to read, and some fun stuff to hopefully brighten up your Monday morning.

My dear husband is an overstuffed genius when it comes to crappy 1970s and 1980s pop movies and television shows. Occasionally he convinces me to partake in this vast cultural morass, which is how I ended up watching "Superman II" (1980) last night. As anyone who is familiar with the film's cult status knows, one of the few redeeming qualities of "Superman II" is Terrence Stamp's relatively understated performance as General Zod. Stamp is quite a good actor, and I hope to feature him in a serious article soon. Anyhow, if you're wondering just how we went so quickly from talking about a classic 1935 romantic comedy to a Superman sequel, let me tell you: Zod spends much of his time standing around being fabulously suave and well-groomed. Clearly, General Zod is a modern-day Franchot Tone.

"Superman II" is one of the most blatant examples of film-making entirely for the sake of money that I've ever seen. Featuring a tissue-thin plot, complete lack of character development, and sloppily done stand-ins and re-shoots, the most vile thing about the film was the product placements, especially the ones for cigarettes. Absolutely disgusting, especially in a movie aimed at kids.

Ultimately, you cannot deny the charm of a trio of sophisticated villains in cool black leather clothes, or the fascination with the many controversies and two versions of "Superman II" now available.

In that vein, I leave you with these links:

Dave Kellett's hilarious cartoon strip "Sheldon" features Zod a few times. The first series with Zod begins here. The second is here and the third starts here. Guaranteed to cheer you up, even if you don't need it.

I normally don't link to Wikipedia, but right now, the article on the "Donner cut" of "Superman II" is quite good. In 5 minutes the article might be replaced with a picture of a lolcat, but as of now, it's informative and useful. The Variety blog is equally interesting.

Just want me to shut up about Superman already and talk about the classics? Check out this Joan Crawford page "The Best of Everything" by Stephanie Jones - absolutely jammed with terrific photos. You could spend a whole day on this wonderful site.

A contemporary review for "No More Ladies" in the New York Times can be found here. Sometimes the page asks for a login. To bypass this, go to Google and search for "no more ladies" review and click on the link there.

The subject line says it all: What a horrible week for a movie blogger to be on hiatus! With all that's happened the last few days, I figured a brief entry about a few of this week's major movie events was warranted.

Everyone's been talking about the remastered DVD release of "The Jazz Singer", the revolutionary 1927 musical and first part-talkie film. I was so engrossed in all that responsible stuff I'm supposed to be doing that I was unaware of this 80th anniversary release, until I caught the movie starting on TCM last Tuesday. While watching it (again; this must have been my third viewing) I noticed the intertitles and musical elements had been cleaned up. It's a nice print of the film, and the sound has been noticeably improved. I ventured to the Internet, repository of all knowledge, and discovered this was the 80th anniversary of the film. Silly me! Forgetting such a thing, especially when I remembered the August anniversary of "Wings" (1927).

More about the restoration of "The Jazz Singer" can be found on AMC's blog here. Dave Kehr's NY Times review of the restoration DVD is a must-read; a contemporary 1927 review of the film has been excerpted here on the Usenet group alt.movies.silent by Jason Liller.

The new restoration is quite good, but I confess I find movie itself to be quite mediocre. Jolson is not my favorite entertainer -- many have said that his performance style simply didn't translate well to film -- and he's far too old for the part. Just as I noticed with another Jolson film, "Wonder Bar" (1934), many of the songs seemed out of date for the time. The film's portrayal of the old ways versus the new is ham-fisted and rather insulting to devoutly religious persons; just because one is devout does not mean one is inherently out of touch. And, of course, there's the problematic minstrel number done with Jolson in "traditional" blackface. One would have to be deliberately obtuse to ignore the importance of the blackface number; contemporary posters, movie stills, and even the enormous Warners Theater sign (pictured) focused on the minstrel show number. Most of my fellow film buffs disagree with me about this, but I find the accessibility and entertainment value of a movie is hampered by any racist, sexist, and similar outdated social ideas shown in the film. I can acknowledge and understand that in 1927, a white man in blackface was not seen as impossibly inappropriate, but that doesn't mean I am able to ignore its modern-day implications.

On a sad note, actress Deborah Kerr passed away on Tuesday, October 16, in England. She was 86. A fine obituary via the BBC can be found here, as well as a nice photo montage of her career. I'd recently re-watched "The Innocents" (1961), one of my favorite movies, and was again compelled by Kerr's intense portrayal of the governess Miss Giddens. She was never one to shy away from controversial parts, as evidenced by "The Innocents", as well as "Tea and Sympathy", "From Here to Eternity", and "The Gypsy Moths". I happened to also re-watch "Casino Royale" last week and was impressed by Kerr's willingness to be silly for the sake of fun. She clearly enjoyed her role and played the part with great enthusiasm, and as such was one of the few actors in who really seemed to fully grasp the idea of this Bond spoof. She is one of my favorite actresses, and she will be missed.

The last member of the famous Rat Pack, Joey Bishop, died on October 17. He was 89. I didn't know much about Bishop; I've seen him in "Ocean's Eleven" (1960) and "A Guide for the Married Man" (1967), neither of which impressed me. His live routines were apparently much funnier than anything he did on the big screen. A terrific biographical page of Bishop can be found here at the Favorite TV Classics site.

CREDITS:
Deborah Kerr photo from Jet Set Modern.
"The Jazz Singer" photo of the Warners Theater from audioheritage.org.