David Wayne

  • M (1951)

    M (1951)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, March 2020) It would be easy to dismiss the 1951 remake of M as just another forgettable Americanized version of an all-time classic—no Peter Lorre, no musical leitmotif innovation, no German expressionism, what’s the point? But the point is different, in offering a point of evolution from 1930s German expressionism to its American film noir inheritor; in allowing David Wayne to avoid imitating Peter Lorre’s classic performance; in providing a more accessible point of entry to a remarkably harsh story made in the middle of the Production Code’s censorship (as the story goes, the film was only allowed to go forward with its sordid story of child murder because it was an Americanized remake of a German classic); and setting its story in circa-1950 Los Angeles landmarks, such as the then-new Bradbury building. Many of the original film’s strong plot beats still work well here, all the way to the underground trial in which the city’s criminal gangs team up to take out a criminal that they can’t stand. The paradox of this version of M is that, by itself, it would have been a remarkable noir. But it doesn’t exist by itself; it only exists because it comes from an earlier, superior version of it. Comparison is the thief of joy, though, and we’ll at least acknowledge that an American version will be more readily watchable by those hesitating to plunge into a 1930s German film. I was surprised by the result—it’s not at the level of the original, but it’s perfectly acceptable in its own way.

  • Adam’s Rib (1949)

    Adam’s Rib (1949)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On DVD, June 2018) Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn are back on-screen as a warring couple in Adam’s Rib: As a prosecutor (Tracy) takes on an attempted murder case set against a love triangle, his wife (Hepburn) takes on the case for the woman accused of trying to kill her husband while he was having what looks like an affair. Courtroom hijinks ensue, followed by further fireworks at home when pillow talk becomes legal talk. Like many screwball comedies of the time, Adam’s Rib does depend on a somewhat caricatured premise—not only that a wife would deliberately take on a case opposite her husband without having some serious conflict-of-interest professional issues, but that a judge would allow circus-like antics in his courtroom. The point of the film, obviously, is to see Tracy and Hepburn play off each other, and provide a satisfying climax right after being brought to the brink of divorce. It has certainly aged, but it’s still generally effective largely thanks to the lead actors. Hepburn is fantastic, and you can see that her role in the film is on the inflection point that brought her from floppy-haired ingénue roles to the matriarchal characters that would dominate the rest of her career. Tracy is less flashy but no less effective—the ending would have flopped with countless other actors, but he manages to sell it. Together, in this sixth film starring both of them, they have fantastic timing—so much so that at time, director George Cukor simply records their banter without moving the camera or cutting to different angles. David Wayne does shine in a small role with a few very funny moments. While some moments of the film don’t play particularly well today, the charm of the production generally overcomes those weaker moments—and the happy ending does redeem an increasingly darker third act. As a romantic comedy, Adam’s Rib is blunter than what we’re used to, but still remarkable in its own way.