Best Movies by Farr

The Best Bogart Movies By Farr

Humphrey Bogart was never quite who or what he seemed to be.

Born to privilege, the son of a Manhattan physician and a successful illustrator, he would end up being known for his street-smart, tough guy roles. In real life, people assumed his cool, cocksure manner reflected confidence, but on a fundamental level he was surprisingly insecure.

Though he loved to needle people, he would do almost anything to avoid violence, including hiding under tables. And by all accounts, his surface cynicism, aloofness, and intolerance for anything or anyone "phony" served as a protective barrier to an uncommonly sensitive and caring soul.

He was also an unlikely candidate for success. Bogart was thrown out of most schools he attended for bad grades, bad behavior, or both. He fell into acting, a disreputable profession for the upper classes in those days, because he had few other options. He toiled for several years at Warner Brothers playing second fiddle to Cagney, Robinson, and Bette Davis, and in the mid-late thirties, few would have pegged him for star material. Yet today his visage, accompanied by the trademark cigarette and trench coat, may be more iconic than any other star from Hollywood's Golden Age, with the possible exception of John Wayne.

And somehow, most incongruous of all remains the fact that this scowling, sad-eyed actor, whose very being screamed rebellion, was born on Christmas Day. And yet it is so.

Bogart's film career was born largely due to Leslie Howard's generosity in pushing for him at a crucial juncture; his eventual stardom was attributable to George Raft's poor judgment in choosing (or rather, not choosing) roles, coupled with Warner production chief Hal Wallis's hunch that the forty year old supporting player could make the leap to star. Thankfully for us all, Raft was wrong, Howard and Wallis right.

What follows are my favorite under-exposed Bogie picks. I'm consciously omitting what are arguably his most famous "landmark" films: The Maltese Falcon, Casablanca, The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre, Key Largo, and The African Queen, featuring Bogart's only Oscar-winning role, and a title which remains stubbornly unavailable on DVD.

The Petrified Forest (1936) -- A penniless, drifting writer (Leslie Howard) stops by a remote Arizona café run by the owner's restless daughter (Bette Davis). The two promptly fall in love over poetry, which only stimulates the girl's desperate desire to flee her dead-end existence. Then, all too suddenly, they and their motley group find themselves held captive by escaped killer Duke Mantee (Bogart). Reprising his role from Robert E. Sherwood's smash Broadway play, Howard plays the anguished intellectual to the hilt, especially in his scenes with the menacing, monotone Bogart, who modeled his Duke Mantee after celebrity criminal John Dillinger. Jack Warner had no interest in casting Bogie in the role that would solidify his screen career, but was convinced -- or perhaps blackmailed -- by Howard, who had played it with Bogie on Broadway, and owned the rights to the story. Davis also glows in an early role as the chipper, wide-eyed dreamer. Their spirited performances make this "Forest" anything but wooden.

Dead End (1937) -- Disguised by plastic surgery, wanted gangster Baby Face Martin (Bogart) returns to his old Manhattan neighborhood to look up his mother and former girlfriend. Living in the slum are Martin's old pal Dave (Joel McCrea), an out-of-work architect, and Drina (Sylvia Sidney), an impoverished beauty raising her kid brother. When Martin starts teaching the brother's local gang (the Dead End Kids!) some professional tricks, Dave intervenes, hoping to keep Drina's brother square with the law. Based on a hit play and scripted by Lillian Hellman, William Wyler's compelling fable of tenement life in the 1930s clicked as a hard-hitting social drama about class tensions and the origins of crime. Bogart scores a direct hit as the rotten Martin, though a scene with his disapproving mother shows a vulnerable side, too. McCrea and Sidney also carry their weight as the moral heart of Wyler's mean streets.

High Sierra (1941) -- Weary, aging gangster Roy "Mad Dog" Earle (Bogart) is enlisted in a hotel-robbery scheme after a close mobster friend springs him from prison. On his way to a rendezvous point, he meets and falls for farmer's daughter Velma (Joan Leslie). Meanwhile, Marie (Ida Lupino), his colleague's tough-as-nails girlfriend, develops a soft spot for Earle. Once the heist goes down, however, the attachments he's formed with the two women could bring about his downfall. Bogart was given a juicy breakout role here as a killer with a compassionate side. Young Lupino stands out too as Earle's feisty, loyal protector who can't win his love. Co-written by a young John Huston, High Sierra is a solid, flavorful entry for "Bogie-as-bad-guy" fans, boasting a slam-bang finish.

Sahara (1943) -- In the Second War, after the fall of Tobruk in Libya, Sgt. Joe Gunn (Bogart) and his remaining men retreat in their tank across the blistering desert, picking up more straggling allies and two POWs along the way. Finally, they reach a fortress which holds a limited quantity of that most crucial substance: water. When a superior German force arrives, the enemy is desperate enough to offer an exchange of food for water. Gunn's challenge is to hold them off until British reinforcements arrive. This gutsy WWII actioner vividly evokes the particular risks and hazards of desert warfare, while showcasing Bogie in his prime, on the front lines of battle. Suspenseful and smart, "Sahara" is a distinctive, overlooked war film that makes you thirsty for more.

To Have And Have Not (1944) -- Harry Morgan (Bogart), an American skipper in Martinique during the World War II, seems like the self-interested type, but ultimately shows his true colors by aiding the Free French. Still, this risky bit of intrigue feels like mere pretext for the smoldering romance that ignites between Morgan and alluring chanteuse Marie (Lauren Bacall, then just 19).Reportedly, director Howard Hawks bet Ernest Hemingway he could make a great movie out of his worst novel. The author took the bet. Once you watch To Have, you'll know Hawks won. The film remains a gripping adventure tale with stand-out performances from the stars and supporting players Walter Brennan and Hoagy Carmichael. But above all, it's very much a romance: don't miss that famous "Just Whistle" scene. (Bogie and Bacall fell in love on-set, and married soon after the production wrapped).

The Big Sleep (1946) -- Private investigator Philip Marlowe (Bogart) gets tangled in a seedy web of murder and vice when he's hired by a wealthy scion to investigate a pornographer with incriminating photos of his daughter, Carmen (Martha Vickers). Marlowe finds the man dead, and eventually teams with the general's other daughter, Vivian (Bacall), who assists him in some highly unpleasant detective work. Scripted by William Faulkner from Raymond Chandler's complex detective novel, The Big Sleep is a Hollywood puzzler of the highest order. Bogart famously cemented his gritty persona tackling the role of Chandler's shamus protagonist, Philip Marlowe, co-starring again alongside young wife Bacall. "Sleep" piles up so many twists, turns, and bodies that ultimately you can't tell who killed whom -- neither, apparently, could Chandler -- but the Bogart-Bacall star wattage and Howard Hawks's expert direction make it so you really don't care.

In A Lonely Place (1950) -- Volatile screenwriter Dixon Steele (Bogart) finds himself in hot water, needing to clear himself of a murder. Sultry Gloria Grahame is Laurel Gray, the fetching helpmate and love interest in a story that exposes the darker, rougher edges around Tinseltown. Nicholas Ray's tingling drama defines what a great whodunit should be. The anger within Bogart's character melds perfectly with the actor's own dark persona. And Grahame is always fascinating to watch, both for her unique allure and nuanced acting. Probing, literate and atmospheric, this is one "Place" worth seeking out.

The Caine Mutiny (1954) -- Based on Herman Wouk's sprawling novel, Mutiny tells of the neurotic, inflexible Captain Queeg (Bogart), a career officer whose men relieve him of command when he supposedly falters in guiding his ship through a perilous typhoon. Once on terra firma, Queeg ensures the men get court-martialed for mutiny. Then, as the trial progresses, the sad truth is gradually revealed. But in the end, is justice done? This stunning production stands as one of our finest war films - and courtroom dramas. A trio of memorable performances keep it afloat: an Oscar-nominated Bogart in one of his best turns as the embattled Queeg; Jose Ferrer, who almost steals the picture as a whip-smart defense lawyer; and finally, Fred MacMurray, superb in the unsympathetic part of a cowardly lieutenant. All hands on deck for this smart, salty classic.

Note: See this piece at The Huffington Post: The Best Bogart Movies By Farr.

They Belong In Every Home: The Best Holiday Movies By Farr

Below you'll find the movies that, to my mind, best capture the essence of Christmas, year in and year out. These titles seem particularly fitting now, as we see the rampant consumerism of recent years yield to the fundamentals of the holiday - as a special time for family and friends to come together and give thanks. The values and emotions imparted in these timeless films are sure to stoke the spirit of "Peace On Earth, Good Will Towards Men" (and Women).

Holiday Inn (1942) - Don't miss this funny, festive Bing Crosby/Fred Astaire musical about two friends who launch an inn open only on holidays. The film is best known for first introducing "White Christmas", the best-selling single of all time, and an instant favorite with troops then overseas. "Inn" remains consistently tuneful and entertaining, with a sublime Irving Berlin score that covers not just Christmas, but all major holidays. And Astaire and Crosby make a winning team. (For the record, I prefer this Crosby feature to the overbaked, oversaturated "White Christmas", released twelve years later.)

It's A Wonderful Life (1946) - A heartwarming holiday treat, Frank Capra's masterful handling of the bittersweet storyline-in which one George Bailey (James Stewart) sacrifices his own dreams to save the family savings-and-loan business and keep his hometown of Bedford Falls out of the greedy paws of a heartless banker-is pure Hollywood magic. Donna Reed (as Bailey's wife, Mary) and Lionel Barrymore (as the banker) give exceptional performances, but Stewart is the dynamic, all-too-human force holding it all together.

Miracle On 34th Street (1947) - Was there ever a better big-screen Santa than Oscar-winner Edmund Gwenn? This delightful fable about an elderly retiree turned Macy's Santa who sets New York a-twitter with his claim to be the real article gets at the heart of the question: if we humans can no longer believe in things we may not understand, what exactly is the point of Christmas? Look for a cute, young Natalie Wood as a disbelieving young girl Gwenn's Kris Kringle converts.

The Bishop's Wife (1947) - Cary Grant portrays Dudley, the suavest of angels who visits Earth at holiday time to set a certain bishop's priorities straight. Co-starring David Niven as the bishop and a dazzling Loretta Young as the title character, this joyful, witty film still has something to say about keeping the spirit of Christmas alive all year round. And Cary was never better.

Scrooge (1950) - Based on Charles Dickens's most widely read and enduring story, this definitive 1951 British version outdoes all others for atmosphere and characterization. The incomparable Alastair Sim, a gifted actor who seamlessly inhabits the title role, makes you feel there could be no other Scrooge. The film runs just eighty-five minutes, yet delivers the story's full impact, with Sim's droopy eyes projecting all of Scrooge's terror, shame, and regret.

The Apartment (1960) - Peerless Billy Wilder feature about C.C. Baxter (Jack Lemmon), an insurance man climbing the corporate ladder by lending out his bachelor pad for his bosses' assignations. Baxter falls for elevator girl Fran (Shirley MacLaine), but she's still involved in a messy romance going nowhere. Unhappy circumstances draw Fran into Baxter's orbit over the holidays. Will love blossom between these two lost souls? We find out by New Year's, in this poignant tale of loneliness and love.

The Homecoming (1971) - This was the wildly successful TV movie that spawned "The Waltons" TV series. On a Christmas Eve during the Depression, Olivia Walton (Patricia Neal) and her large brood wait anxiously for patriarch John, who's been forced to take a job far from home. With inclement weather making roads impassable, will he make it home for Christmas? The simple, touching "Homecoming" underlines the importance of family love and solidarity over material possessions. Neal is superb.

The House Without A Christmas Tree (1972) - Director Paul Bogart's deceptively unadorned story, adapted from Gail Rock's autobiographical book, involves one transformative Christmas in the 1940's. Precocious Addie (Lisa Lucas) badly wants a Christmas tree, but for James, her widower Dad (Jason Robards), such beauty only brings back his lost wife and past holidays he feels he must forget. He sternly forbids a tree in the house, but underestimates Addie's determination and cunning. See this one for Robards, one of the most powerful actors of his time.

A Christmas Story (1983) - An irresistible, often hilarious 40's-era holiday tale about young Ralphie Parker (Peter Billingsley), growing up in a loving but eccentric family, and his obsession with getting a very special air-gun for Christmas. Initially, his parents (Darren McGavin and Melinda Dillon) supply precious little hope. Will Ralphie's desperate yearning wear them down in the end? Based on a Jean Shepherd short story, the movie benefits from an immense heart, rich period detail and quirky comic characters.

A Child's Christmas In Wales (1987) - Spending Christmas with his daughter's family, a grandfather (Denholm Elliott) reminisces with his enraptured grandson Thomas about his own boyhood holiday memories in Wales. Inspired by a Dylan Thomas poem, Don McBrearty's lyrical, heartwarming "A Child's Christmas" is a simple, one-of-a kind piece originally produced for public television. Some of the language may be lost on the little ones, but the movie exudes so much charm and Yuletide spirit that it really won't matter.

Note: See this piece at The Huffington Post: They Belong In Every Home: The Best Holiday Movies By Farr.

Huffington Post: The Best Depression-Era Comedies By Farr

As we confront an uncertain and bewildering economic downturn, it's instructive to look back at the factors that sustained the public through the truly desperate conditions brought on by The Great Depression.

Part of what differentiates that period from any fiscal downturn since is the lack of safeguards then in place to blunt the impact of sudden joblessness and destitution. The safety nets that have existed since, while hardly ideal, have helped, but they were only created in response to that unprecedented crisis that began close to eighty years ago.

Stories abound of the fallout from that first shocking collapse: Wall Street millionaires turned penniless hurled themselves out of office windows or simply put a gun to their head. But most Americans, of course, survived. How did they manage it?

Believe it or not, movies contributed...more than one might guess. But it wasn't simply the intrinsic nature of motion pictures that accounted for this palliative effect. It was a savvy Hollywood that responded to challenging times by recognizing what a transformed public would want to see and leveraging the full might of the studio system to provide it.

Entering the '30s, the film industry itself was in a precarious place. Just as Black Tuesday hit, the business was in massive flux converting from silent films to sound. Careers had ended and been launched virtually overnight, and Hollywood was investing heavily in sound technology, focusing feverishly on making the new technology work better so that "talkies" could reach their full potential.

There was no guarantee that movies would survive in this new environment. In fact, conventional wisdom held that filmed entertainment was a luxury that few could or would be able to access. The moguls then decided that the best possibility for success was to make movies literally indispensible to people's lives and well-being. First, they would move heaven and earth to get the public back in theatres, offering another free plate for their plate set with each theatre visit, and giving them a whole string of entertainment to make their experience richer and more varied: cartoons, newsreels, serials or "B" film entries, and finally, the "featured attraction".

Doubtless all the extra inducements, both on- and off-screen, helped boost initial ticket sales, but primarily what made people skip meals to go back to the movies again and again had more to do with the main features- known as the "A" pictures.

Hollywood knew that the most precious commodity for the times was escape, and they were in a unique position to deliver it via their best films. Such productions were intended to boost industry prestige, as well as serve as a tonic for battered souls in dire need of some laughter and reassurance. These movies showcased the talented and glamorous stars which the studios shaped and groomed so assiduously, and employed the talents of the finest directors, writers and craftsmen then under contract.

So if the public had to survive without all the good things money could buy, at least they could live vicariously through on-screen characters that did possess them. They'd laugh at the absurdity of the leisure class and their contrived, shallow problems, while also drinking in their heady style and sophistication. Having done so, they would emerge from the theatre with enough renewed hope to get them through one more week of grim reality.

Thus was born the screwball comedy- a form very much of its time, as more recent attempts to recreate it have almost invariably fallen flat. Yet the best screwballs also remain timeless, as fresh and clever today as they were on release.

Following in chronological order are my own selections for top screwball entries from the 1930's:

Trouble In Paradise (1932) - Parisian jewel thieves Gaston (Herbert Marshall) and Lily (Miriam Hopkins) fall in love over dinner-trying to pick each other's pockets. With a wealthy widow, Mme. Colet (Kay Francis), as their latest mark, they craftily install themselves as her secretary and typist, respectively. But things get complicated when Gaston must pretend to fall for the beautiful heiress (or is he pretending?), and she returns the compliment. German-born director Ernst Lubitsch specialized in soufflé-light, sophisticated comedies that poked sly fun at conventional mores. "Trouble" is one of his best outings, cheerily touting the marvels of sex and riches. Along with the rarefied atmosphere, the snappy dialogue and witty ripostes exemplify what came to be called "The Lubitsch Touch." If you like your chuckles with a touch of class, here's your movie.

Twentieth Century (1934) - Broadway producer Oscar Jaffe (John Barrymore) creates a star in the beautiful Lily Garland (Carole Lombard), then alienates her, ultimately causing a decline in his own fortunes. He happens upon Lily (now embarked on a successful Hollywood career) on the luxurious Twentieth Century Limited train, and while she is a captive audience, attempts to woo her back into the Jaffe fold. Don't pass up this opportunity to see Barrymore in his funniest performance as the histrionic Jaffe. Meanwhile, Lombard is leading lady gorgeous, but also exhibits her trademark comic flair in the ripe role of Lily. The screenplay, by partners Charles MacArthur and Ben Hecht, moves as fast as that train. By all means, get on-board!

It Happened One Night (1934) - Ellie Andrews (Claudette Colbert), a mixed-up heiress, hits the road incognito to escape a loveless impending marriage and a chronically over-protective father (Walter Connolly). Riding with the common folk on a bus, she meets reporter Peter Warne (Clark Gable), who grudgingly befriends this unusual creature, who appears curiously oblivious to the ways and customs of real life. When Peter discovers her true identity, he knows he's got hold of the story of the century, but by this time, he's also started to have feelings for Ellie. What's a smitten newsman to do? Frank Capra's sublime romantic comedy swept the 1934 Oscars, and it's still easy to understand why. Few seventy-five year old movies hold up like this one. Colbert makes a winning, deft comedienne (check out that hitch-hiking scene!), and Gable was never more natural and appealing, winning his only Oscar for this role. The scene where Peter takes off his shirt and exposes his bare chest was a first, and reportedly, sounded a death knell for the undershirt industry. Hail to the walls of Jericho!

My Man Godfrey (1936) - Through a charity contest only the idle rich could invent, a daffy family chooses a forgotten man from skid row to become the new butler in their chaotic household. Younger daughter Irene (Carole Lombard) proceeds to fall in love with him. However, Godfrey (William Powell), the object of her affections, is not precisely who or what he seems. Gregory La Cava's sublime comedy blends screwball elements with more serious overtones on Depression-era class injustice, to create a wildly entertaining yet thought-provoking movie that holds up beautifully. The term "debonair" must have been coined for Powell, and Lombard makes for an adorable ditz. (Trivia note: the two stars had been married briefly several years earlier, but had divorced amicably). Highlights: comic actor Mischa Auer as Mrs. Bullock's "protégé", along with the rotund Eugene Pallette as Mr. Bullock, the family's frustrated industrialist father, who appears more like an impotent keeper at an asylum.

Libeled Lady (1936) - The ever-smooth William Powell returns as Bill Chandler, a freelance journalist hired by his old newspaper to squelch a libel suit brought by society heiress Connie Allenbury (Myrna Loy). To do this, Bill must make Connie fall for him and then place her in a compromising position. Ultimately, he melts her icy exterior, but ends up falling in love himself. What's yet another smitten newsman to do? Nominated for a Best Picture Oscar in 1936, Jack Conway's underexposed gem is a raucous farce buzzing with zany humor, thanks to a flurry of impeccable one-liners delivered by Powell and Loy, reunited from their first pairing in "The Thin Man." Playing Haggerty, the newspaper's frantic editor, and Gladys, his continually jilted fiancée, Spencer Tracy and Jean Harlow round out a stellar foursome in this fast-paced, ingenious laugh-fest.

Topper (1937) - George and Marion Kirby (Cary Grant and Constance Bennett) seem to have it all: they're rich, attractive, and live the high life- that is, until they're killed when driving their roadster a bit too fast. Now bona-fide ghosts, it seems the couple have one final errand to do before going to their eternal rest: help their stifled, hen-pecked banker Cosmo Topper (Roland Young) get more out of life-while he's still living! This uproarious comedy represented another crucial step to super-stardom for Cary Grant, who proves himself a gifted comic player as well as handsome leading man. Bennett (older sister of Joan) is the essence of high-toned style and effervescent charm as wife Marion. Still the revelation is Young, who proves a consistent delight as the put-upon Cosmo, a man who must cope not only with a rigid, controlling wife (Billie Burke), but a couple of goofy, upper crust specters who keep turning his well-ordered world upside down.

Easy Living (1937) - Frustrated with his wife's spending habits, financier J.B. Ball (Edward Arnold) throws his wife's new $58,000 sable coat out of the window, where it alights on the shoulders of working-girl Mary Smith (Jean Arthur), who's riding to the office on a double-decker bus. When she tries to return the coat, the blustering "Bull of Broad Street" indulges her with a new hat and a ride to work, unwittingly opening the door to a world of instant fortune--and a heap of personal troubles. The great Preston Sturges penned this farcical, rags-to-riches romance, in which an innocent secretary is assumed by her snitty coworkers and a hotelier to be the mistress of an older, married tycoon. As always with a Sturges picture, this is only the beginning of delightfully nutty entanglements, and director Mitchell Leisen's light touch with the script allows the future director's comic vision to unfold without a hitch. A young Ray Milland also shines as Ball's independent- minded son, who becomes Mary's bumbling love interest.

The Awful Truth (1937) - Cary Grant and Irene Dunne play Jerry and Lucy Warriner, a wealthy young couple who temporarily drift apart, stray and finally, initiate divorce proceedings. Both are unwilling to admit the obvious fact that they're still in love. Their eventual rapprochement becomes one delightful, often hilarious dance. Director Leo McCarey was considered a comedic genius, and this consistently sharp, side-splitting picture supports that claim. The film cemented the reputations of both Grant and Dunne as gifted comic players with superb timing. Ralph Bellamy also stands out in the thankless role of the other man opposite Grant, a part he would assume again in the classic "His Girl Friday" several years later. Finally, look for the pooch who plays the Warriners' pet, Mr. Smith. He is none other than Skippy, who played Asta in "The Thin Man" and George in "Bringing Up Baby".

Bringing Up Baby (1938) - Paleontologist David Huxley (Cary Grant) leads a quiet, studious life, and is engaged to a proper, like-minded young woman. Then, quite by accident he runs into dizzy heiress Susan Vance (Katharine Hepburn), who immediately takes a shine to the handsome, bespectacled scientist. Used to getting just what she wants, Susan simply won't let David go. Before long, Huxley's life gets turned upside down, as Susan kidnaps him to her starchy aunt's Connecticut estate, along with her explorer brother's recently arrived present, a tame leopard called "Baby". The comic mayhem escalates from there. Howard Hawks's quintessential screwball outing remains one of our most riotous and inspired screen comedies. Grant and Hepburn (who'd do "The Philadelphia Story" two years later) are in fabulous form, with Grant wholly convincing as the nerdy, befuddled victim, and Kate on fire as a flaky but determined lass who's finally found true love, and intends to hold on, come what may. This "Baby" is fun, fast and oh-so-funny.

Midnight (1939) - Arriving at midnight in Paris without a penny to her name, American showgirl Eve Peabody (Claudette Colbert) meets Hungarian cabbie Tibor (Don Ameche), who takes an instant shine to this beauty in gold lame. Eve has other plans, though, and ditches Tibor to crash a Parisian high-society party, using his exotic-sounding surname. There, the "Baroness Czerny" meets aristocrat George Flammarion (John Barrymore), who, once he learns of Eve's clever disguise, makes her an irresistible proposition. Colbert was never better than in this inspired comedy directed by Mitchell Leisen, which has lost none of its punchy wit or saucy flair with time. That has a lot to do with the cheeky script by Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett, who keep things delightfully ripe with the threat of Eve's exposure: Barrymore lures her to Versailles, where her job is to distract Jacques Picot (Francis Lederer), playboy lover of his wife, Helene (Mary Astor). When Ameche shows up in pursuit of Colbert, the fun really begins. The impeccable plotting and cynical banter will keep you in stitches.

Revisiting this impressive and enduring movie legacy inevitably begs the question: will Hollywood again raise their sights and put out some first-rate comedies to help us weather this latest mess? Considering the structure of the industry today and the quality of their recent output, I wouldn't bet on it--but how I would love to be proven wrong!

Note: See this piece at The Huffington Post: The Best Depression-Era Comedies By Farr.

Video Entry - Three Comedy Classics

"Dying is easy-comedy, that's hard". No truer words were ever spoken, certainly as regards comedy. That's why I'm so excited about three new on DVD releases of three classic screwball entries from Hollywood's Golden Age: "Easy Living" (1937), written by soon-to-be director Preston Sturges and starring the irresistible, husky-voiced Jean Arthur; "Midnight"(1939), starring Claudette Colbert and Don Ameche, and written by soon-to-be director Billy Wilder (and partner Charles Brackett); and finally, "The Major and the Minor" (1942), starring the fabulous Ginger Rogers and Ray Milland. "Major" was actually Wilder's first shot behind the camera in Hollywood, and he never looked back from this first solid success.

Video Entry - Comedy Documentaries

THE RAZOR'S EDGE: AS SHARP AS EVER

Black and White movies rule, as demonstrated again by an evergreen Hollywood classic I'd never seen called "The Razor's Edge" (1946) , directed by Edmund Goulding and starring Tyrone Power, Gene Tierney, and Anne Baxter (who deservedly won an Oscar for her performance).

Initially set in 1919, the film is based on a Somerset Maugham story about a young man (Power) whose brutal experiences in the First War lead to a quest for enlightenment that precludes his settling down to a conventional job and marriage. This breaks the heart of the gorgeous Tierney, who is not used to being turned down for anything!

British character actor Herbert Marshall portrays Maugham himself, providing a sort of anchor to a story with plenty of twists and turns. And again, the young Baxter is fabulous as a childhood friend of Power's with a powerful thirst and self-destructive streak.

The film also reunites Tierney with the priceless Clifton Webb; they had done the immortal noir "Laura" together just two years prior. Webb here plays Tierney's snobbish dandy of an uncle, a role tailor-made to his slim, rarefied persona.

"Edge" was re-made with Bill Murray in 1984, but as I often claim, re-makes are rarely as good as originals, and by most accounts, this case is no exception.