#casey robinson

[bossupsettledown]

Casablanca (1942)

"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine."

[movie-titlecards]

The Snows of Kilimanjaro (1952)

My rating: 4/10

This movie is roughly 80 percent manpain, the rest being made up of a heady mix of animal cruelty and racism. Boy, it sure was the 50s, huh?

[gregorygalloway]

Casablanca premiered on 26 November 1942 in Hollywood, CA.

Warner Bros. story editor Irene Diamond read the script for an unproduced play, Everybody Comes to Rick’s (by Joan Alison and Murray Burnett) and convinced Hal Wallis to buy the rights in January 1942 for $20,000 (nearly $300,000 in today’s value), the most paid for an unproduced play. Wallis renamed the play Casablanca and production began in May, with only about half of the final script ready.

The play was set entirely in the cafe, with little of the plot making its way to the screen. Casey Robinson worked on the first adaptation before Julius and Phillip Epstein were brought on. The Epstein brothers had to leave before the script was finished (to work on Frank Capra’s Why We Fight documentary series) and Howard Koch was hired. The Epstein’s returned before filming was complete, and wrote the famous ending. Only the Epstein’s and Koch received credit (and the Academy Award), but most film historians agree that Koch’s work did not appear in the final film. Producer Hal Wallis sent a telegram to film editor Owen Marks with the final line of the film ("Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship") and Humphrey Bogart was brought in to dub the line (a month after filming had completed).

Casablanca was originally scheduled for a 1943 release, but the premiere was rushed in order to capitalize on the Allied Invasion of North Africa.

The film was a critical and commercial success, and was nominated for 8 Academy Awards, including Best Actor (Bogart), Best Supporting Actor (Claude Rains), Best Cinematography (Arthur Edeson), Best Editing (Marks), and Best Score (Max Steiner). It received Oscars for Best Picture, Best Director (Michael Curtiz), and Best Screenplay.

The film was banned in Ireland (in order to preserve “wartime neutrality“) and not shown until 1945, with edits (mostly eliminating any mention of Rick and Ilsa’s relationship).  The film was not shown in West Germany until 1952, and with 25 minutes cut, including almost all references to World War II. Through dubbed lines, Victor Laszlo’s character was changed from a Resistance fighter who had escaped a Nazi concentration camp to a Norwegian atomic scientist pursued by international police (Interpol). The original Casablanca was not shown in Germany until 1975.

[theoscarsproject]

The Egyptian (1954). In eighteenth-dynasty Egypt, Sinuhe, a poor orphan, becomes a brilliant physician and with his friend Horemheb is appointed to the service of the new Pharoah. Sinuhe's personal triumphs and tragedies are played against the larger canvas of the turbulent events of the 18th dynasty.

Another bloated historical epic that offers little besides some white washing and interesting costumes. This is about as heavy as they get, and not even Michael Curtiz’ competent direction can help it. Curtiz is such an interesting dude - I mean, how can a guy go from Casablanca and Mildred Pierce to this and White Christmas? Anyway, not much to note in this film. Don’t worry about it unless you’re a Curtiz completionist or a period drama buff. 4/10.

[dweemeister]

Captain Blood (1935)

The Hollywood swashbuckler is among the oldest subgenres of action/adventure cinema around. With its humble beginnings in the silent era to its modern, self-serious incarnations, there has always been a degree of heroic grinning as the protagonist leaps into danger, a languid season of newfound romance between dissimilar individuals who happen to find themselves in peculiar predicaments. As the senior Douglas Fairbanks (1920′s The Mark of Zorro and 1924′s The Thief of Bagdad) encountered difficulties in the transition from the silent to talkie eras, in came Warner Bros.’ Errol Flynn. The Australian actor had just signed a contract with Warner Bros. in 1934, and the Warners had little clue what to do with the inexperienced actor.

Thus, for sheer experimentation, Warner Bros. placed Flynn as the titular Captain Blood and would never regret that fortuitous decision. For what followed for Warner Bros., for Flynn, co-stars Olivia de Havilland and Basil Rathbone, and numerous craftspersons behind the camera was a film and subsequent swashbucklers that launched some of the most illustrious careers in Studio System Hollywood. With Michael Curtiz directing – a star-making director – Captain Blood represents film as a wonderful piece of entertainment.

It is 1685 in England, Irish Doctor Peter Blood (Flynn) is accused and arrested for treason for treating a patient that has been participating in the Monmouth Rebellion against King James II. The punishment for Dr. Blood and the rebels is to be bound and shackled in a slave galley sailing for Port Royal in Jamaica. In Jamaica, Blood is spotted by Arabella Bishop (Olivia de Havilland), whose attraction for the outspoken Blood is instantaneous – you can see it in her eyes and devilish smile. Arabella purchases Blood, protecting him from the influence of her uncle, Colonel Bishop (Lionel Atwill). Blood is allowed to treat a governor’s gout instead of toiling in the mines, but he loathes slavery and concocts a daring, impromptu escape with his fellow slaves when a Spanish ship attacks the city. This motley band of slaves captures the Spanish ship, sets sail, outlines a pirate’s code with Blood as captain, and proceeds to pillage and plunder European settlements in the Caribbean. But Blood has left Arabella behind at Port Royal. He had only just begun to realize her feelings for her.

Also starring in this film is Basil Rathbone as a French privateer named Levasseur. Rathbone embarrasses himself with a disastrous French accent, but it establishes a brief period of villainous typecasting before he would later be typecast as Sherlock Holmes-like characters in the late 1930s-40s. Ross Alexander is also here as Blood’s best friend, Jeremy Pitt; Guy Kibbee is crewman Henry Hagthorpe; and J. Carrol Naish is Cahusac, Levasseur’s crony.

Before Curtiz would establish the likes of Doris Day and Bette Davis as marquee, top-billed movie stars, he would do just that for Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland. For Flynn, that combination of a beautiful, wide smile and an aura of bent-armed, hands-to-hips aura of self-confidence can never fail to charm audiences even when the characters in the film are struggling to make sense of cinematic chaos. Like in so many of his later swashbucklers – especially in the career-defining The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) – that personality lifts the performances surrounding Flynn. Many more technically gifted actors worked in Hollywood in the mid-1930s, but no one could combine raw physicality and cornball optimism and moral purity like Flynn. A ridiculous script with a risible ending requires a ridiculous, risible performance. And it takes specific skills to make an audience care in such a scenario – Flynn achieves this brilliantly (and this is not even his greatest performance).

For stage-trained Olivia de Havilland, she too had signed a contract for Warner Bros. in 1934. But, according to the late Turner Classic Movies (TCM) host Robert Osborne, this did not serve her long-term career well as Warner Bros. concentrated on making darker, grittier motion pictures rather than stage-based and prestige productions de Havilland yearned for. Despite these later frustrations, de Havilland prospered in her early swashbuckling works with Flynn. Here, a 19-year-old de Havilland is allowed to demonstrate a sexuality uncommon in post-Hays Code Hollywood. Her character’s freedom of decision – thanks to Rafael Sabatini’s novel and Casey Robinson’s adapted screenplay – is an immense contribution to the chemistry between her and Flynn. More substantial roles would come, but it is an assured performance by de Havilland in this, her fourth film and first starring role.

Did I mention that Captain Blood is incredible fun? Though it might lack the savage wit of The Adventures of Robin Hood and rely too heavily on coincidence at times, but its action scenes are downright thrilling. The first duel between Flynn and Rathbone – they would spar again down the years – is a beautiful piece of swordsmanship and tropical scenery. Okay, that scenery was shot at the picturesque Three Arch Bay in Laguna Beach, California, but it looks anything but a public beach for that scene where crashing, foamy waves elevate the stakes of this swordfight. And that first Flynn-Rathbone bout, built upon the mass one-versus-dozens swordfights Douglas Fairbanks was familiar with, established swashbuckling precedents to be followed by later Warner Bros. swashbucklers and the multitudes of movies following it. 

The climactic battle sequence employed over 2,500 extras with zero real sailing ships used during filming. This final scene, along with the earlier skirmish where the Spanish attack Port Royal – which is almost an hour in, but it never feels like that – employed process shots, numerous miniatures, and archived footage from 1924′s The Sea Hawk. Though some of the models are obvious if one has seen enough action films employing miniatures, there are some split-seconds where things are far more artificial than they appear. From the wooden chunks blown off these ships, with ropes and pulleys and masts tumbling after cannon fire, this is some of the most convincing visual effects work in films during the mid-1930s.

Composer Erich Wolfgang Korngold had never worked on a film before. The Austrian immigrant was a youth sensation in Europe, having composed for ballets, concerts, and operas. Convinced by his friend Max Reinhardt’s (a theatrical and film director) stories of working in America and considering the dangers an insurgent Nazi Party posed, Korngold came to the United States to compose an adaptation score for A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1935) for Warner Bros. Soon after, Warner Bros. asked Korngold if he would like to compose for a swashbuckler. He initially declined, believing that such a job would be beneath him, but changed his mind when he was attracted to Flynn and de Havilland’s performances and the filmmaking.

With only three weeks to finish the composition, the final product is not as technically complex as Korngold’s future scores for The Adventures of Robin Hood or The Sea Hawk (1940). There is a lack of character-driven motifs that would become more developed in those later works; instead, the motivic structure is action- and film-driven. However, Korngold’s work on Captain Blood – along with the contemporary works of Alfred Newman at the 20th Century Fox and fellow Warner Bros. contractee max Steiner – established the precedent of original film scores influenced by the later romantic period of classical music. Where earlier 1930s films might incorporate existing classical pieces to respond to what is on screen, Korngold’s music is implicit, reinforcing adventure or intimacy rather than distracting from it or being a dramatic redundancy. Trained listeners will notice that about five or ten percent of the score include Franz Liszt’s symphonic poem, Prometheus – Korngold, who only learned of his rapidly-approaching deadline only after he accepted the job was forced to borrow out of necessity. Korngold also, at first, rejected Hugo Friedhofer’s assistance as orchestrator (orchestration is the process in choosing the instrumentation that will play a piece), but soon realized that Friedhofer’s help was necessary, and the two became close colleagues. Their work becames one of the great original scores to come from early Hollywood.

Captain Blood is unsure how to balance its tones in the first half, and it never settles on a primary antagonist. But as a star-making vehicle for its two central actors and for being a platform for further, greater success for other artisans never appearing on-screen, it is an essential for those looking into this era of Hollywood. For being a swashbuckler film shot on a scale never associated with such films, it is as rollicking a time as you might have on the open seas. 

My rating: 9.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down.

[theoscarsproject]

The Snows of Kilimanjaro (1952). Writer Harry Street reflects on his life as he lies dying from an infection while on safari in the shadow of Mount Kilamanjaro.

There’s some great visual elements in this, but it falls a little flat narratively - to the point where even Gregory Peck and Ava Gardner’s significant chemistry can’t quite pull it out of its own slump. Still, the costumes and cinematography are great, and compelling, even if the script and performances are not. 6/10.

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

Stolen Holiday

Though largely remembered as a clothes horse, Kay Francis has enjoyed a renaissance of late with the popularity of pre-Code films, made when she was one of Hollywood’s biggest stars. They’ve revealed her to be a surprisingly natural actress, even turning in believable performances in some of the claptrap Warner Bros. stuck her in. Michael Curtiz’ STOLEN HOLIDAY (1937, TCM) has a preposterous plot, redeemed by some crackling good dialog by Casey Robinson. And silly as the whole thing seems, she more than holds her own against inveterate scene-stealer Alison Skipworth and the supremely talented Claude Rains, who turns his final scene into a thing of beauty.

Francis is an American model working in Paris.  Penniless businessman Rains hires her to help him schmooze a financier, and six years later, he’s a major force in the business world and has helped Francis become Paris’ top couturier. There’s only one problem. He’s a fraud, selling overvalued bonds so he can make a killing buying up real ones. Francis knows nothing of this, though the swindle’s revelation can’t help but damage her own reputation. Somewhere along the line, she also falls for a British diplomat (Ian Hunter) when Rains’ business dealings make him desert her during a vacation in Geneva.

The script is based on the Stavisky affair, which inspired a much better 1974 Alain Resnais film with Jean-Paul Belmondo as the con man, Anny Duperey as his model wife, a wonderful score by Stephen Sondheim and some dazzling period gowns. STOLEN HOLIDAY has some dazzling gowns of its own by Orry-Kelly, who gets to design two fashion shows, a ball and a wedding. Unfortunately, Francis’ first outfit — a black sequined sheath with a large white organza flower stuck in the middle of her bosoms — is so ugly it even defeats her legendary ability to wear clothes. The rest, however, are quite wonderful and reflect the designer’s ability to use fashion to mirror a film’s plot. Maybe that ugly gown is meant to be a starting point as Francis’ rise to prominence is accompanied by her move to more chic garments, including a show-stopping white gown with a train coming out of a turban (few actresses could pull off a turban as well as Frances) that helps she and Hunter meet cute. He tells his date, within Francis’ hearing, that he dislikes it, and the star never lets him forget it.

The plot is ridiculous, with Francis having to choose between love for Hunter and loyalty to Rains. But Robinson’s shooting script almost wipes that away with clever lines like “I’ve discovered a very peculiar thing about money. It’s valuable only if you spend it” and Rains’ response when Francis tells him things are either right or wrong. Life isn’t all black and white, he rejoins, but rather “a Jospeh’s coat of many colors.” He delivers those lines peerlessly. His character meets society with a mask of total control, but when he has to reveal the soul beneath, Rains does it economically and movingly. Curtiz directs this all with a great eye for detail and a sense of crowds as assemblages of individuals. Francis’ entry at the ball in that white gown is a bit of drama in itself as people can’t help but follow her from a respectful distance. The only thing that feels wrong is Hunter. This was one of a few films he made with Francis, but he seems all wrong for her. He’s not a bad actor, but there’s something lumpen about him. He feels weighted down while her acting is more gossamer. After William Powell left Warner Bros., Francis had trouble finding the right leading men. Rains was a better fit, and despite his character’s lack of moral standing, you can’t help but wish they could have stayed together.