Arthur Hunnicutt

  • The French Line (1953)

    The French Line (1953)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) There have always been Hollywood star vehicles designed to feature specific actresses’ ample assets, but The French Line’s dedication to showcasing the great Jane Russell is exceptional by any standards. Produced by Howard Hugues, this is a film that explicitly set out to capitalize on Russell’s considerable sex appeal. Not only is it a film that revolves around her character, not only is it a film that shows her off in surprisingly skimpy outfits during dance numbers, this is a movie that was shot in 3D mainly to show off her curves to a thirsty public. (“J.R. in 3D—Need we say more?” bluntly goes the poster.) Legend goes that Hugues had a very personal interest in Russell, and designed many of the film’s outfits. He arguably overstepped—the film was judged so salacious that it was refused a production code seal of approval, earned scathing ratings from the era’s moral guardians, was banned from a few cities/countries and had to have an entire musical number trimmed before being shown in other territories. Today, of course, it’s quite tame—you can see more revealing numbers in PG-13 films. And once absent the titillation element, The French Line becomes another ordinary musical, once whose similarities to the previous year’s Gentlemen Prefer Blondes become a handicap more than a selling point. Oh, it’s watchable enough: Jane Russell became a sex-symbol for good reasons, and they go far beyond skimpy outfits. She gets a few good numbers as a Texan oil magnate looking for love at sea and abroad—While the infamous final number “Looking for Trouble” gets most of the attention, I really enjoyed “Any Gal from Texas.” The tone is amiable, and there’s enough going on around the edges of the supporting characters to be interesting: Mary McCarthy looks good, and Arthur Hunnicutt gets his fair share of smiles thanks to a grander-than-life Texan character. Still, there’s no denying that The French Line is about Jane Russell and little else: it’s her film, curves and all.

  • The Big Sky (1952)

    The Big Sky (1952)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2019) Even relatively minor works from Howard Hawks can be interesting, and The Big Sky is the kind of big-budget western shot on location (in black-and-white, alas) that is worth a look even if you don’t like westerns. It’s more of a pioneer movie than a traditional cowboy western—taking place in the Pacific northwest, it features explorers and traders as they head west to befriend natives and establish trading posts. (As such, it’s already more palatable than many horse operas where natives were solely portrayed as bloodthirsty killers.) Much of the film’s action comes from the considerable enmity between the trading companies and the rival native bands. True to facts, there’s a substantial French-Canadian presence here, notably though the character of Jourdonays—although one notes that the actor playing him, Steven Geray, mumbles incomprehensible phonetic French even as the secondary characters speak decent, but European-accented French. Visually, The Big Sky is interesting to look at, and Hawk’s qualities as a sheer entertainer means that there’s almost always something to keep us interested in the film. There’s an interesting romantic arc featuring the ethnically native Elizabeth Threatt in her sole film role. (There’s plenty to quibble in the “native princess kidnapped as a pawn in a trade negotiation” arc, but by 1950s standard this was almost progressive material—the legendary Hawksian woman reinterpreted in that context.)  Acting-wise, the film features Kirk Douglas and Dewey Martin, but all the attention goes to the arresting Threatt and Arthur Hunnicutt’s Oscar-nominated role as a Daniel Boone -type character. On a structural level, the film is slightly less successful, with the last act of the film being an anticlimactic coda after an earlier action climax. Still, it’s worth a look: more interesting than your average 1950s western, The Big Sky indeed opens up possibilities for the western genre that were not often followed up.