23 Paces to Baker Street (1956)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

23 Paces to Baker Street (1956) – H. Hathaway

Nothing to do with Sherlock Holmes but definitely in a Hitchcock mood.  Van Johnson plays a bitter blind playwright, an American in London, who overhears an ambiguous conversation in a pub that suggests foul play.  He tries to get the police interested but when they aren’t, he starts investigating on his own with the help of his manservant Bob (Cecil Parker) and his ex-girlfriend (Vera Miles).  One clue leads to another and soon the trio really thinks they have uncovered a fiendish plot to do with kidnapping (the MacGuffin of this story, which doesn’t necessarily need to make much sense – it just motivates the action).  Of course, Johnson is quickly in over his head and the bad guys seek to silence him, creating suspense (we know that this will end happily, so the suspense is in figuring out how Johnson will defeat those out to get him).  1950s cinemascope in that strange technicolor world that existed in Hitchcock’s films (and other films of this era) but perhaps nowhere else.  Worth a look, if not on par with the Master.

The Blue Lamp (1950)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Blue Lamp (1950) – B. Dearden

Affectionate portrayal of cops on the beat in post-war London, showing their camaraderie in the face of a rise in youth crime.  Jack Warner and Jimmy Hanley play mentor and mentee cops who have to deal with rebel Dirk Bogarde who stages a couple of robberies with his partner Patric Doonan and 17-year-old girlfriend (Peggy Evans).  The young hoods are too wet-behind-the-ears for the professional criminal class who refuse to help them (and may even help the police instead).  What we get, then, is partly police procedural with an occasional tilt toward noir (via some expressionist lighting) but more often we see the cops at work in their everyday roles (and in some cases cosily at home). Scenes with Bogarde don’t really reveal the motivation behind his crimes but he’s always charismatic.  Add to this, the real London settings (especially seen in a frantic car chase) and the result is highly enjoyable, although admittedly fantasy (i.e. in the portrayal of the noble and caring cops who are too idealized to be really human).

Noroi (2005)

☆ ☆ ½

Noroi (2005) – K. Shiraishi

Back when J-Horror was the thing (after the mega-success of Hideo Nakata’s Ringu, 1998), a number of other films capitalized well on the trend (e.g., Ju-On, Pulse, maybe Dark Water).  Nozoi was a relative latecomer (it didn’t cross my radar then) but now with a decade gone by, it seems even more out-of-date (those videotapes!).  Taking his cues from the Blair Witch songbook, director Koji Shiraishi positions the footage we see as “found” after the mysterious disappearance of the central protagonist, a paranormal investigator. More specifically, we get to see the rough cut of a documentary he was making about a young girl with E. S. P. who disappears, leading the filmmakers to learn about a demon who needs to be assuaged with an annual ritual and who just might have possessed someone.  As is typical with J-Horror, the dots don’t really connect in a way that makes sense but each individual dot is laden with creepiness -- or designed to be that way (the film trots out some typical spooky clichés).  The problem here is that the whole film feels slow as molasses and any foreboding that might begin to build simply seeps away as the investigator plods on.  Some of the acting did not convince either.  Staged versions of Japanese variety TV shows with real comedians and talento playing roles were the highlight.  The shocking ending basically woke me up (too much screaming) but by then it was too late.        

The Falcon Takes Over (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Falcon Takes Over (1942) – I. Reis

George Sanders is the Falcon, an upper crust society-type who is also a private investigator.  He seems to also have a way with the ladies (a la James Bond).  However, in this film, a rendering of Raymond Chandler’s Farewell, My Lovely, the Falcon is really Philip Marlowe, so there’s a bit of dissonance:  Marlowe was never so suave.  Indeed, Dick Powell’s Marlowe in the superior Murder, My Sweet (1944) is far more lived in and grungy. He also gets beat up a fair bit which doesn’t happen to the Falcon; instead Sanders has a sidekick played by Allen Jenkins who takes the various beatings from Moose Malloy and also provides comic relief by getting into trouble.  This moves the film into the more formulaic territory of the mystery serials (e.g., Charlie Chan, Dick Tracy, Mr. Moto, Sherlock Holmes, etc.) which were generally lighter fare.  But somehow the Chandler text elevates the picture to something more than the usual “guess the murderer before he/she is identified by the sleuth” mystery – it is a little more confusing, less straightforward, more interesting.  George Sanders’ star power is more than evident but he’s still an odd droll character – who thought he should be the hero? That said, I fully approve of him and the film was fine.

  

I Vampiri (1957)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

I Vampiri (1957) – R. Freda & M. Bava

Mario Bava took over the direction of this Cinemascope horror film from Riccardo Freda after first serving as cinematographer.  A persistent journalist seeks to find a serial killer that the police haven’t been able to identify; the killer’s trademark is that all of the blood is drained from the victim.  Less a vampire film and more of a mad scientist yarn with a close kinship to Georges Franju’s Eyes Without a Face (1960), all of the victims are female and their disappearance is related to a duchess who refuses to grow old.  Enough said.  The film varies from plodding and stagey to a more gloriously creepy use of the widescreen with Halloween-esque sets visited in tracking shots.  Bava, the master stylist, may have still been learning the ropes (or we could blame Freda for the less fluid parts).  Worth a look for its first peek at Bava who would soon produce Black Sunday (1960), a more fully realized look at his talent. (Beware the shorter American print, I’m told).

Police Story 4: First Strike (1996)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Police Story 4: First Strike (1996) – S. Tong

I didn’t know there was a fourth installment to Jackie Chan’s Police Story series but First Strike is it (and I watched the full 107 minute version not the heavily cut US release).  Following his usual formula for blockbusters, Jackie travels to several different locations (Ukraine, Australia) and sets the action in some tough to navigate places (ski field, underwater with sharks). As usual, the plot is incidental to the action (a nuclear device has gone missing and Jackie has to get it back, because the Hong Kong police are working with the CIA and the replacement for the KGB, the FSB).  Jackie’s relationships also take a back seat here; even though Uncle Bill is still his boss (in a glorified cameo), sadly May is absent (Maggie Cheung had clearly moved on).  So, the full-on Jackie magic isn’t really present, but not for want of trying -- the major stunts are pretty tremendous (Jackie jumps from snowboard to helicopter and drives a car onto a boat).  However, I _was_ glad to see some hand-to-hand fighting (with a stepladder) to remind me of the old Jackie. And what more can you expect from Chan when he was already in his ‘40s (and still with his American breakthrough yet to come)? But if you are interested in Jackie, Police Story (1985) and Supercop (1992) are the better movies in this series; they are part of the reason Jackie deserves his stardom.

Scandal (1950)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Scandal (1950) – A. Kurosawa

Kurosawa brings his kinetic style to this still-current look at celebrities suing a magazine for some slanderous paparazzi photos.  It may be in bad taste to attack the media these days, but let’s face it, our journalists come in all shapes and sizes, from the most scrupulous to those willing to print unfounded gossip and, yes, “alternative facts”.  Toshiro Mifune (playing an artist) and Shirley Yamaguchi (playing a singer) are photographed at a spa after an accidental meeting and a magazine (“Amour”) plays this up into a love affair and scandal.  When they decide to sue, a lawyer (played by the great Takashi Shimura) pleads to take their case because of his heightened sense of justice.  However, he proves spineless and easily manipulated by the (evil) publisher.  Nevertheless, Mifune and Yamaguchi stick with him out of concern for his dying daughter (she has tuberculosis).   For a while, I thought this would be up there with Kurosawa’s best but the courtroom scenes allow some of the tension to dissipate.  Moreover, it is my problem but I couldn’t accept Shimura in this worm-like role after his sympathetic performances in Ikiru, Seven Samurai, and Stray Dog.  Still, there is much to enjoy here (particularly the style – and Mifune on that motorcycle!).