Hume Cronyn

The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946)

The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946)

(On Cable TV, July 2019) As others have said, noir is a style more than a narrative genre, and as such it can allow itself multiple deviations from reality that would be unforgivable in another kind of movie. Does The Postman Always Rings Twice make sense? Only barely—even the most forgiving of audiences will probably cry out in disbelief a few times, whether we want to talk about narrative, romantic or even legal incoherencies. But this is mid-1940s noir, and believability takes a distant back step to the atmosphere of two lovers plotting murder and then trying to get away with it. Adapted from a novel by crime-fiction legend James M. Cain, it doesn’t take long for the film to revel in the particularities of that kind of fiction, with all the darkly humorous complications, twisted characters, fatal ironies and (in)convenient contrivances. It does help that the film is spearheaded by capable actors, starting with one of Lana Turner’s best individual performances (as others have said, the problem with being a star is that you’re often appreciated for a body … of work—not always a single role) and John Garfield as a blandly likable drifter who finds reason to stick around. For more contemporary viewers, there’s also a young Hume Cronyn turning in a memorable performance as a devious defence lawyer. At times, it does feel as if the third act runs far too long after what would have been a climax in another movie, but it ultimately turns out that the script has quite a bit more on its mind for the real end of the film—and even gives meaning to the title. The Postman Always Rings Twice all amounts to a classic noir with the qualities and issue of its genre, but no less of a pure pleasure to watch.

*batteries not included (1987)

*batteries not included (1987)

(Second Viewing, On TV, March 2019) I must have seen *batteries not included as a teenager in the early 1990s, and remembered a strange mix between special effects work and unabashed sentimentality. As it turns out, that’s not too far away from an impression left by a second middle-aged look at the film, as the film blends then-top-notch special effects work with a script that wears its heart on its sleeve at multiple levels. The premise focuses on an old building in the middle of an area cleared for high-rise development. As you’d expect, the villains are real estate developers doing their best to force the tenants to move out. It just so happens that alien creatures then enter the picture, nesting on top of the building and helping with minor repairs and good actions throughout the building. The rest goes on from there, with no one really being surprised at how it ends. Director Matthew Robbins keeps a good balance between special effects showcases (some of them still quite effective) and more humanistic moments. The film is built on a nice unity of place, to the point where it feels off-putting when the action eventually leaves the apartment block. It’s sentimental for sure, but it’s difficult to dislike a film so optimistic—although the “baby alien” creature is pushing things. For cinephiles, what’s perhaps most remarkable about *batteries not included is the number of known names from different eras assembled for the occasion: It’s one of the last recognizable roles for veteran actor Hume Cronyn, a decent performance from his wife Jessica Tandy, a rather young Elizabeth Pena, and a screenwriting debut for Brad Bird. Predictable but not bad, *batteries not included still works as a film for the entire family.

Cocoon (1985)

Cocoon (1985)

(Second Viewing, On Cable TV, January 2019) I remember seeing Cocoon as a kid, but considering the film’s themes of aging it’s very different to see it as a middle-aged adult. (There’s one shot in the film, in which “human skins” are discarded and thrown to the floor by the alien characters, that seriously freaked me out when I was younger.) Efficiently directed by Ron Howard, this is a clever blend of SF, romance and comedy as retirement-aged characters discover alien eggs and the rejuvenating effects of the pool in which they’re stored. Of course, the aliens are there for a reason and their minders have good reason to be concerned. The script cleanly moves between one mode to the other, gradually making its way to a sentimental action-driven finale. There’s a tremendous amount of irony and foreshadowing in Cocoon’s early lines, showing the craft in the script. This probably remains the best film in which Steve Gutenberg ever starred, although his acting simply can’t reassure up to the impressive elderly ensemble cast assembled in between Don Ameche, Wilford Brimley, Hume Cronyn, Jessica Tandy and others. Now that the baby boomers are taking over retirement homes, I expect the film to undergo a modest rediscovery as its themes of eternal youth directly addresses them. For younger viewers, Cocoon can occasionally be a meditation on growing old (and what people would do if there was an alternative), although it doesn’t forget to leaven the meditation with genre elements and comedy.