Eva Marie Saint

All Fall Down (1962)

All Fall Down (1962)

(On Cable TV, August 2020) While director John Frankenheimer is best known for his action movies, he does have an almost-parallel filmography of character-driven drama films. Take, for instance, All Fall Down, released the same year as the far better known The Manchurian Candidate – it’s a relatively low-stake family drama, featuring a charismatic but self-destructive young man who drags down his family into misery. Unusually enough –and you can credit the literary origins of the film –, All Fall Down rarely revolves around that young man, inelegantly named Berry-Berry (the repetitiousness of it becoming an unintentional gag at some point in the film) and played by a very young and charming Warren Beatty. Much of the film is clearly from the point of view of his younger brother, undertaking a journey to the realization that his older brother is to be pitied rather than idolized or harmed. We also have their parents, divided over their older son’s behaviour, and an older woman who becomes the crux of the brothers’ irreversible rift. There is some intense melodrama to the twists and turns of All Fall Down that hasn’t aged particularly well, and having a handsome but dangerous central character is always a cause for mixed impressions. There are some good performances here – aside from Beatty, there’s Angela Lansbury as a misguided mother, Eva Marie Saint as the girl that divides the brothers, and Karl Malden as a father drinking himself to death. For all of Frankenheimer’s skills in directing, he couldn’t quite manage to improve on the screenplay’s least believable elements enough to improve the credibility of the film – it all seemed like an elaborate plotting exercise, moving pieces around without quite thinking about whether it made sense. I eventually tired of Berry-Berry, and wanted him unable to hurt any more people ever again, no matter how we got there. All Fall Down does hold more interest than expected as drama, but it does feel a bit hollow when all is said and done.

The Russians Are Coming the Russians Are Coming (1966)

The Russians Are Coming the Russians Are Coming (1966)

(On TV, February 2020) I’m always baffled when acclaimed films fail to meet their own hype, and I really would not have expected a broad humanist comedy to be so… dull? But the case of The Russians Are Coming the Russians Are Coming may be unique as well—a comedy directed by Norman Jewison, it was an attempt to find common humanity with the then-fearsome Soviets. Half a century and the end of the Cold War later, it’s not quite as striking or relevant. What played like gangbusters and won critics over in 1966 feels either obvious or hopelessly dated by 2020. Oh, it’s still amusing (the premise of a Soviet sub running aground in New England and its crew “invading” a small village remains high-concept), but I’m not sure I cracked a single laugh during the entire film. Since a lot of the jokes revolve around the same idea, the film quickly becomes repetitive. Some elements still work just right: Alan Arkin (in his big-screen debut) has plenty of his youthful energy as a Russian, while notables such as Carl Reiner, Eva Marie Saint and Brian Keith are featured ensemble players. I don’t usually have trouble putting myself into the mindset of a specific era, but that proved more difficult than usual in The Russians Are Coming the Russians Are Coming—absent the era’s specific quirks, it feels hollow and underwhelming.

Carol for another Christmas (1964)

Carol for another Christmas (1964)

(On Cable TV, January 2020) Calling Carol for another Christmas preachy is not being insulting: it’s being descriptive, and—considering its intentions—even complimentary. It comes to us modern viewers through a fascinating process: Originally produced for television as a Christmastime special, it was the first of a series of TV movies produced by the United Nations to promote the organization’s ideals. As such, it reuses the premise of Charles Dicken’s A Christmas Carol in order to teach its protagonist a lesson. But instead of having Scrooge learn about human kindness in his life, here we have a foreign affairs isolationist learning about the values of dialogue and diplomacy. The ghost of Christmas Past ferries the bodies of dead soldiers and reminds the protagonist to his past visit to Hiroshima. The Ghost of Christmas Present comments on the developed world’s ability to gorge itself while ignoring the hungry and the needy staring at them. Finally, the Ghost of Christmas Future takes us to a post-apocalyptic American town where a demented demagogue (played with relish by Peter Sellers) recites the lead character’s philosophy and remonstrates its idiocy ad absurdum. This last segment gets surprisingly dark (in keeping with the rest of the film, really), and the epilogue isn’t much of a comfort. The preachiness extends to characters spouting statistics and indulging in heated logical combat, as per a rather clever script from Rod Serling. With Joseph L. Mankiewicz at the helm, the film is far better-directed than you’d expect from a 1960s TV movie, further adding to its appeal. Reviews at the time of Carol for another Christmas’ broadcast were sharply divided, with even those who agreed with the message being annoyed at its didactic nature. Then the film disappeared from public view for nearly five decades, until TCM dredged it back up in 2012 for its Christmas special and infrequent broadcasts since then. From a modern perspective, the didactic insistence and preachiness have transmuted into something far more interesting—a time capsule from the cold war that still rings true today, bolstering its message to a degree that 1964 audiences couldn’t guess at. It’s also a fascinating repurposing of the Dickens classic for a purpose that can be re-watched any month of the year, and a collection in intriguing performances from some known actors. (Eva Marie Saint shows up as a WAVE in a short but effective role.) I found it particularly fascinating as part of a look at Peter Sellers’ work, especially with Britt Eckland in a small role. It’s also notable that the film is preachy without being sappy, a partial inversion of the usual takes on the Dickens classic. No matter how you size it, Carol for Another Christmas is a fascinating piece from the archives, and it’s worth a look once, even if it probably won’t make your list of Christmas classics.

On the Waterfront (1954)

On the Waterfront (1954)

(On Cable TV, March 2018) It took me a long time to warm up to On the Waterfront. At first, it felt like a chore of a self-imposed viewing. Taking place low down the social ladder in the working neighborhoods around the port, it talks about corruption, coercion and trying to do the right thing when you’re going to be punished for it. Marlon Brando became famous largely thanks to this film (“I coulda been a contender!”), and it’s easy to understand why—compared to other actors in other films of the time, he feels more real, more alive than most of them. Other standout performances include Karl Malden as a tough priest, and a first appearance by Eva Marie Saint. Still, the film is a grim slog for much of its duration—but it gets much better toward the end, as On the Waterfront finally comes into focus and achieves maximum dramatic intensity. The final ten minutes are riveting, which is a good place for a film to conclude.