Scenery Chewing the Main Course of 'Soylent Green'

Soylent Green is not made of Thin Mints Girl Scout cookies!

Soylent Green is a 1972 sci-fi stink bomb that became a campy cult classic—in large part to Charlton Heston’s posturing performance.

Set in the year 2022, overcrowding, pollution, and lack of natural resources have reduced society's leaders to finding food for the teeming masses. The answer is Soylent Green — a mysterious artificial nourishment.

Chuck Connors & Chuck Heston fight over beige polyester ensembles and toupees at The Soylent Green Mall.

A main source for hilarity is, though set 50 years in the future, Soylent Green looks like That '70s Show. Sadly, polyester, toupees, and elevator music apparently still rule. The future is filled with then-aging stars from the '70s like Charlton Heston, Chuck Connors, and Joseph Cotten. The only young '70s star represented here is appropriately enough, Leigh-Taylor Young.

Edward G. Robinson as Sol, who decides to 'go home.' No one knew Eddie was dying of cancer during filming.

Edward G. Robinson steals the movie as Heston's ancient roommate, Sol, who remembers better days—and steaks. The actor was dying during filming, which no one knew. When his character decides it's time and wants out of this hellish world, Sol "goes home." This was assisted suicide, performed while he experiences all the pleasures in life that are long gone. It's a tearjerker scene, even without that knowledge. Robinson died two weeks after filming wrapped.

Joseph Cotten is also touching as the aging millionaire whose murder sets off the mystery of Soylent Green. Cotten was always an understated actor and his sad, gently weary performance is a touch of class.

Charlton Heston strikes a studly pose as he helps himself to a drink, from 'the furniture.' Dig the 'futuristic' decor!

Then there’s Charlton Heston, sporting a neck-kerchief and clenched jaw, once again exploring post-apocalyptic mysteries, as he did in Planet of the Apes and The Omega Man. Always a wooden actor, but in the ‘60s, Heston seemed to imitate the cynical anti-heroes that slightly younger Eastwood, McQueen, and Newman were playing. While they came across as young and restless, Heston’s snide, sneering, and stone-faced persona came across like Hollywood's most spoiled Hollywood square. Heston's either unbearable or unintentionally hilarious here. Everything he does is so over the top, right down to mopping his brow with a kerchief. And yes, he's in '70s mode, with his safari jacket, jaunty cap, and neckerchief, looking like the Village People's aging uncle—or Charles Nelson Reilly on steroids.

The rest of the cast is filled with great supporting actors like Brock Peters, Paula Kelly, Whit Bissell, Mike Henry, Leonard Stone, Cyril Delevanti, and even Dick Van Patten!

In the future, Taco Tuesday will be but a dim memory!

Soylent Green is a futuristic detective film very loosely based on Harry Harrison's Make Room! Make Room! It’s amazing that the similar but far superior Blade Runner came out just 10 years later. The Green movie version barely resembles Harrison’s book, which made Harry very unhappy. Ironically, the elements people remember most about the movie aren’t even in the book, including Soylent Green’s climatic revelation. I think that Harrison’s novel is probably closer to Joni Mitchell’s Big Yellow Taxi than Soylent Green’s futuristic thriller.

Heston is a Manhattan cop trying to solve a murder in the overpopulated, overheated city—and Charlton brings the overacting. The murder of a wealthy mogul seems related to the ubiquitous and mysterious Soylent Green. Hmm…

Despite or perhaps because of an abundance of dated attitudes, actors, and action—the schlocky Soylent Green is still highly watchable. And there is Heston's memorable closing line.

If you don't know its main ingredient, you probably also don't know that Psycho features Janet Leigh's last shower!

Chuck Henderson's amazing opening title sequence is truly the best part of Soylent Green. The documentary film maker does a great job encapsulating the rise and accelerated growth of the USA. It’s a real jolt, especially when you think Henderson created this in 1972.

Check it out here: http://www.artofthetitle.com/title/soylent-green/

Move along, people! Nothing to eat here!

'Flamingo Road' Reunites Crawford & Curtiz 1949

Joan Crawford wears a waitress uniform once again for 'Flamingo Road!'

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

Some say that studio head Jack Warner re-teamed Joan Crawford with Michael Curtiz, who guided her Mildred Pierce comeback, in 1949’s Flamingo Road because the star was slipping. Critics point to the box office returns of Crawford’s post-Mildred pictures as proof.

I don’t think that’s a fair comparison. While those films did about half the box office business of 1945’s Mildred Pierce, Crawford’s Oscar winning role as a waitress turned tycoon was a once-in-a-lifetime blockbuster, her all-time highest-grossing movie. Joan’s first three post-Mildred movies all made it over the 100 million mark, in today’s dollars. And they were not typical Crawford films: in Humoresque, Joan was an alcoholic socialite; in Possessed, Crawford played crazy; and in Daisy Kenyon, she was a career girl at a crossroads.

This WB poster pushes the 'Mildred Pierce' connection and the star's still shapely figure.

Warner may have wanted to shore up Crawford’s continued popularity with a more commercial picture, which Flamingo Road certainly was. In fact, this was her last bonafide hit film for Warner Brothers. The noir southern soap opera was the beginning of a series of Crawford shady lady roles, and what followed was a case of diminishing returns. Next year’s stylish Crawford mashup, The Damned Don’t Cry, marked a huge drop off in Joan’s drawing power, and with a few exceptions, stayed that way from 1950 on.

Joan was born in a wagon of a traveling show! Yes, Crawford still has IT-look above her head.

Flamingo Road is often described as campy Crawford cinema. Imagine my surprise to find that it was not—except for the hooty opening sequence, with Joan as a hoochie mama dancer in a traveling carnival show—complete with a veil. The scene hilariously shows Joan performing for a gaggle of gaga adolescent boys. Joan, who was officially 41—I’m of the school who think that Crawford was actually a few years older—either way, was too mature for this. When Joan’s Lane Bellamy falls for Zachary Scott’s deputy, her love rival is played by Virginia Huston, who was 24 here!

Joan with some of her favorite WB leading men: L, David Brian, and R, Zachary Scott.

This film came out the same year that Bette Davis was trying to convince audiences she was a small town sex bomb in Beyond the Forest. Davis commented that WB should have had cast studio star Virginia Mayo in her role. The same thought crossed my mind when I first saw Joan here as Lane Bellamy—Mayo would have been a no-brainer. Whatever—let’s just say that Joan was MUCH better preserved in Flamingo Road than Bette was in Beyond the Forest.

Joan as Lane Bellamy, carny girl turned waitress, and on her way up!

Once that suspension of disbelief is dispensed with, Flamingo Road is a highly watchable melodrama that has a strong story, cast, production, and direction. Under Warners’ top director Michael Curtiz, Joan gives an intense, yet restrained performance as the ex-carny girl who wants to put down roots. Lane’s weak-willed beau Field Carlisle is under the thumb of crooked sheriff, Titus Semple, played by Sydney Greenstreet. The sheriff has political plans for the deputy. So, Zachary Scott’s weak charmer (did he ever play anything else?) marries the rich girl from Flamingo Road and immediately hits the bottle. Meanwhile, Titus does everything he can to run Lane out of town. Crawford’s character must really like the real estate in Boldon, because she will not leave. After release from a jail stint, railroaded by Titus, Lane goes to work at Lute Mae’s a “roadhouse.” Lute is played by the great Gladys George, the best wisecracking scene stealer since Thelma Ritter. Note all George’s world-weary talk of getting “old,” while Joan is constantly referred to as a “girl,” and they’re nearly the same age.

Joan Crawford gets great lighting and lines in 'Flamingo Road': "I'm not a carny girl anymore!" 

At Lute Mae’s, Lane meets Dan Reynolds, played by David Brian, who was also Bette Davis’ tough businessman lover in Beyond the Forest. This was the first of Brian’s several pairings with Crawford, who “discovered” him. As always, Crawford has men fighting over her. The thing is, the two leading men are only mildly appealing, so the real interest comes when Crawford and Greenstreet square off. As Sheriff Semple, Sydney Greenstreet is a worthy adversary for Joan, a forerunner to Orson Welles sweaty slob of a sheriff in Touch of Evil.

Sydney Greenstreet's crooked sheriff & Joan's Lane tussle at 'Flamingo Road's' climax!

The indomitable Lane is at first unnerved by sweaty, sinister Titus, but quickly asserts herself—after all, she is played by Joan Crawford! Flamingo Road’s most famous line comes after Titus Semple says he never forgets anything. Joan’s Lane Bellamy replies: “You know, Sheriff, we had an elephant in our carnival with a memory like that. He went after a keeper that he'd held a grudge against for almost 15 years—had to be shot. You just wouldn't believe how much trouble it is to dispose of a dead elephant.”

Gladys George is great as Lute Mae, wondering if new hire Lane will be worth the trouble.

Coming from a campy ‘50s Crawford vehicle, Joan would have dropped this line like a piano from a twenty story building. Here, the star’s delivery is snapped, but simply said. Director Curtiz was able to keep Crawford as understated here as he did in Mildred Pierce. Oh, occasionally the MGM “English” creeps in, especially once Lane becomes a “lady,” but here it works. I always thought that Joan more fun as a working class girl, which is where she came from in real life. At the Flamingo’s early scenes, Joan sports dishwater blonde hair and curls. Her clothes are tight and manner plain-spoken. Crawford’s demeanor as Lane is no-nonsense but game, with her vulnerability just below the surface. Crawford is actually most appealing when her characters are on their way up, as in Mildred Pierce, as opposed to later scenes, when she’s suffering nobly in mink.

For Joan Crawford, guns and minks go together like Pepsi and vodka!

While Flamingo Road is pure melodrama, from Written on the Wind author Robert Wilder, there’s a real story to hold audience interest. Michael Curtiz elevates the book’s atmospheric world of a southern town and its class system. Curtiz and cinematographer Ted McCord bring great visual style to the storytelling and the scenes at Lute Mae’s roadhouse especially pop. McCord’s deep focus photography is reminiscent of Gregg Toland (Citizen Kane, The Little Foxes).

Once JC's a stylish "lady," she wears some swanky duds by Travilla.

Caricature for Crawford was just around the corner in the ‘50s. But here, in Flamingo Road, Joan goes from cheap to chic, and is framed throughout in soft lighting and deep shadows. Travilla, who famously dressed Marilyn Monroe over at 20 Century Fox, and later infamously overdressed those Valley of the Dolls, creates Crawford some sexy frocks as the waitress and sleek outfits as the wealthy wife. Whatever age Joan was, she is in super-fine form here, and wears it all with her usual aplomb.

Warner Brothers made many film noir soap operas with their female stars in the last half of the ‘40s, but most were dark and dreary. Joan Crawford moved mountains to elevate hers, while holding her ground for better roles. In my research, I was amazed at how many Warner Brothers’ female stars were suspended for turning down bad movies, and some even sued: Bette Davis, Olivia de Havilland, Ann Sheridan, Ida Lupino, and even sweet Joan Leslie!

After leaving long-time studio MGM, Joan Crawford was off-screen for two years after signing with WB, waiting for a proper comeback vehicle. While none of Joan’s WB films topped Mildred Pierce, Flamingo Road is a finely crafted, fun film that crosses several genres, and provides Crawford with a worthy vehicle.

Just a reminder, 'Flamingo Road' is by the same folks who brought you 'Mildred Pierce!'

Suddenly, Last Summer 1959

What happened Suddenly, Last Summer? An aging southern socialite wasn’t able to accompany her son on their travels, so he took his beautiful young cousin instead. The poet son died under mysterious circumstances, and the girl has suffered a mental breakdown. The rich aunt now wants extreme measures to quiet her niece. A doctor, at the institution where the young woman is held, fights to find out the truth. That’s the short take on the over-the-top 1959 film, taken from Tennessee Williams’ one-act play, which is still riveting as hell.

"Truth is the bottom of a bottomless well."

Of the many facets of Suddenly, Last Summer that fascinate, it’s Tennessee Williams’ subliminal self reflection on his life and career that resonates for me. The film and its source material have been criticized for gay self-loathing. True, but it was reflective of what many gays experienced during his era, and shouldn’t be forgotten. The playwright also addresses his eternal struggle, to write about often painful things, countered with anesthetic but counterproductive partying with booze, boys, and drugs. Fading youth is a frequent Williams’ lament. The civilized world versus the more base elements of life is another. Williams’ commentary comes through in some of my favorite lines in Suddenly, Last Summer.   

As I get older, this has become my favorite line from 'Suddenly, Last Summer.'

Wealthy New Orleans matron Violet Venable was the lone unsympathetic role in Katharine Hepburn's long career—and she hated playing the part. Why? Speculation ran the gamut. A few naïve souls said that Kate didn’t realize this was gay material—this seems absurd, as Hepburn worked with gays her whole career, and was most likely a lesbian herself. Others said that while Hepburn strongly wanted to work with Williams, but regretted playing the villain, and she preferred to be the headstrong but likeable heroine.

Still, some thought it was simply ego. Hepburn, accustomed to being the star attraction, was now playing second lead to a younger actress, Elizabeth Taylor. Adding insult was the film’s climax, when Elizabeth is shown in flashback in all her sexy swimsuit glory, contrasted with cruel close-ups of Hepburn’s unfiltered face and wrinkled hands, to emphasize that Aunt Violet’s illusions are shattered.

Hepburn was furious after seeing these shots.

Mankiewicz shot Kate unfiltered at 'Summer's' end.

Hepburn was famous for spitting at director Joseph Mankiewicz on the last day of shooting Summer, allegedly over his treatment of troubled co-star Montgomery Clift. For many years, this was the story told by Hepburn and others. Much later, Kate said it was over the director’s above-described treatment of her. It’s noteworthy that Joe was Kate’s producer on two of her biggest MGM hits, The Philadelphia Story and Woman of the Year. Given their history, Kate was unpleasantly surprised that he favored 27-year-old Elizabeth over her 52-year-old self.

For most of the movie, Hepburn was photographed as a mature beauty, easy to accomplish with her slim figure and still-striking bone structure. But Kate, who liked to give the impression that she had no time for Hollywood glamour, was just as fussy as Joan Crawford or Lana Turner over how she appeared onscreen.

Thankfully, Hepburn, with her distinctive staccato vocals, does not attempt a southern accent. The dragon dowager who wants to shut up a “babbling” young woman with a new “operation” is basically Williams’ mother and his emotionally fragile sister, Rose, who was given a lobotomy to control her outbursts. Hepburn’s natural authority as Violet is combined with a cool charm that barely conceals her rage at a niece whom she blames for her son’s death. Hepburn blazes through Williams’ long monologues as though she wants the promising doctor to bear witness to her pain. As Violet, Hepburn gets to lament life’s unfairness, charm the young doctor, insult her greedy family and most of all, confront her young niece, played by Taylor.

Director Joe Mankiewicz with his star. Notice "Mank" is wearing gloves, due to a skin condition exacerbated by stress!

On Hepburn, Joe Mankiewicz later opined in the early ‘70s that Hepburn was “the most experienced amateur actress in the world…whose performances, though remarkably effective, are fake.” Interestingly, critic Pauline Kael echoed the same sentiments later, on Kate’s TV version of Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie. I think there’s truth in that statement, regarding Hepburn’s latter day performances, but here, Kate’s larger-than-life persona fits Violet Venable perfectly. And for the record, “Mank” thought Kate was “damn good” in Suddenly, Last Summer.

With Tennessee Williams, it's a thin line between love and hate!

Tennessee Williams wrote in Life magazine that he thought Elizabeth Taylor was too mature and worldly as Catherine Holly, though he did say her acting was a triumph over miscasting. Williams’ take was understandable. Starting with his Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Taylor was on the tsunami ride of her femme fatale image. Patricia Neal, who played the role on stage in London, wrote in her memoirs that she desperately wanted the movie role. Neal was six years older than Taylor, and if you wanna talk about mature and worldly, Pat was your gal. Like Lansbury and Bacall, Neal always seemed older and world weary before her time. And just two years later, Patricia Neal was playing the aging housekeeper in Hud. Age-wise, I think newcomer Lee Remick would have looked the part—Catherine Holly’s age isn’t given, but I always assumed that she was in her early ’20s. Remick was sly that same year in Anatomy of a Murder, but I don't think she was ready yet for such a demanding role. 

Yes, please!

Though Hepburn and Taylors's first monologues are terrific, the film comes to life when Mankiewicz stops treating the movie like a filmed play. The climactic scene, where Catherine is induced with ‘truth serum’ to recall what happened last summer, is visually brilliant. Some unkind souls at the time felt the recreation of events were designed to bolster Elizabeth’s emoting. Later, a few film buffs have sneered that her performance is simply over-acting. I think Taylor’s performance is the right balance between naturalistic and theatrical, which is perfect for Tennessee Williams. Taylor’s exchanges with Montgomery Clift’s doctor are sly and subtle. Later, Catherine’s sedated by the blonde male nurse, as Taylor sleepily recalls her and Sebastian’s next destination—“We’ll fly north, little bird.” Elizabeth is understated, yet powerful here. The camera goes in for a gradual huge close-up of her face, and it is mesmerizing.

Katharine Hepburn & Elizabeth Taylor square off as the the forbidding aunt & the fiery niece, debating Sebastian's memory.

It’s been condescendingly said that Elizabeth Taylor is only good when she has a great director. My response is that’s true with pretty much ALL actors. Hepburn, Davis, and Crawford all benefited from directors who didn’t let them steamroll through movies with their diva personas. Even Meryl Streep is a better actor when she has a great director and material. Plus, Elizabeth Taylor demonstrated that she was able to carry inferior vehicles, like BUtterfield 8.

Hepburn’s cool, steely demeanor and Taylor’s fiery emotionalism makes a fascinating acting counterpoint and is the foundation of Suddenly, Last Summer.

Elizabeth Taylor and best friend Montgomery Clift on the set of 'Suddenly, Last Summer.'

Montgomery Clift was nearly replaced with newcomer Peter O' Toole, by producer Sam Spiegel, due to Monty’s drug and alcohol problems that accelerated after his famous car accident two years prior. Best pal Elizabeth Taylor's response to Spiegel and Mankiewicz, who both wanted him replaced: “Over my dead body.”

While Monty seemed sedated, his intelligence and intensity still shines through. Especially when compared to Rob Lowe's single dumbfounded expression in his amateurish performance as the doctor in the 1993 BBC remake. I’ll never forget when Rob was on Live! With Regis & Kathy Lee, promoting his version of Suddenly, Last Summer. Kathy Lee, like Catherine Holly, was given to “babbling,” and kept interrupting to talk about the Elizabeth Taylor version. Lowe pompously commented that the BBC version, with Maggie Smith as Aunt Violet and Natasha Richardson as Catherine, wasn’t like “the glossy Hollywood version.” And Kathy Lee just went right on talking about how haunting the original version was!

Monty, Mank, Kate & Liz prove there's no problem on this set!

 I’ve seen the ‘93 version again recently, and it is indeed a faithful adaptation of Williams’ one-act play. Yet, the Rob Lowe remake is also dull as dishwater. The wonderful Maggie Smith is dotty right from the get-go as Violet, in a surprisingly one-note, shrill performance. While Richardson is naturalistic and appealing as Catherine, she is often whiny and dull. The dramatic tension between the two women here is zilch. It reminded me a great deal of the TV remake of Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? The ‘91 TV version had two great actresses who were actually sisters, Vanessa and Lynn Redgrave, and yet the more “natural” version had absolutely zero tension.

The 1959 version of Suddenly, Last Summer has been praised, condemned, deemed dated, called camp, and everything in between. The two hour expansion of a one-act play, filmed during the last gasp of Hollywood censorship, is not perfect. Yet, it was groundbreaking and a sign of things to come in ‘60s cinema. Watching Hepburn and Taylor share the screen, speaking some of Tennessee Williams’ most memorable lines, guided by one of Hollywood’s most literate directors, is something to behold.

Catherine finally remembers what happened to Cousin Sebastian last summer.

Dynamic Davis is 'Dangerous' 1935

Bette Davis works up a lather in this dull soap opera, with charming Franchot Tone.

I watched 1935’s Dangerous recently, which I haven’t seen since the afternoon movies of the ‘70s. Last year, I saw Bette Davis' career breakthrough in ‘34’s Of Human Bondage, for the very first time. Davis gives her all in both, but the difference is in the material she’s working with.

Even at the time, Davis acknowledged that her Oscar win for Dangerous was a consolation prize for when she was conspicuously passed over for Bondage. That's putting it mildly. As with Elizabeth Taylor's sympathy win for1960’s BUtterfield 8, Davis victory over strong competition like Katharine Hepburn in Alice Adams was all about compounding a previous cinematic slight. 

Bette Davis and Jack Warner with a 'Dangerous' Oscar. Not feeling the love!

At first, Davis turned down Dangerous, as it was a schlocky attempt to cash in Bette's turn as Mildred Rogers in Bondage. All very ironic, since studio boss Jack Warner told her to go hang herself for even wanting to play such a role. Davis starred in the Maugham classic on loan out and got rave reviews for her groundbreaking portrayal. Warner Bros gave her no support with the studio’s voting block, even they had no best actress nominee in the hopper. The next year, Jack Warner turned around and wanted Bette to basically repeat her Bondage performance in Dangerous, a cobbled together soap about a washed up actress. Warner was cashing in on Davis on the way up, whereas MGM cashed in on Elizabeth Taylor on her way out, in BUtterfield 8. Ironically, both actresses ultimately toiled at their home studios for 18 years. 

Bette Davis got star billing at last in 'Dangerous.'

Dangerous is an "original" script that played off the recently deceased stage legend Jeanne Eagels. An exciting talent, Eagels was a fiery talent who succumbed to alcohol and hard drugs, flamed out, dead at 35. Davis plays Joyce Heath, a once in a lifetime talent who is a jinx to every man she meets. Now a derelict alcoholic, Heath catches the eye of famed architect Don Bellows (Franchot Tone), who seeks to rehabilitate her for the noblest and most unbelievable of reasons—he adored her interpretation of Juliet. To this hogwash, scriptwriter Laird Doyle added several shrewish scenes, where Bette lashes out at her male co-stars, exactly as Davis did to Leslie Howard in Bondage. Of course, Davis and Tone’s characters fall in love. But bad girl Bette can’t have the hero, so just like BUtterfield 8 there’s a car crash that solves everything. That's the plot, in a nutshell.

Bette Davis was the first film actress who dared to look unglamorous. In 'Dangerous,' 
she was a drab, drunken actress.

Davis was not impressed, but intrigued by playing the Eagels-esque legend, as she admired the late actress. Davis also realized it was better than anything else Warner was offering.

Even BUtterfield 8 had the framework of John O’Hara’s novel to work off of. Dangerous scraps sewed together for a very flimsy vehicle for new star Davis. If it wasn't for Bette's dynamic new style of acting, Dangerous would be an instantly forgotten Warner Brothers’ “B” movie.

Franchot Tone and Margaret Lindsay as a happy couple...before Bette comes along!

As Bette’s embattled leading man, Franchot Tone is far more engaging than Leslie Howard, who apparently was bored by film acting. I’m not sure why the popular MGM leading man was loaned out to WB for this B+ movie, but Franchot is at the height of his appeal and attractiveness here. Tone’s warmth and charm is an audience buffer to Bette's shrewish drunk. 

Once again, an aristocratic brunette is (temporarily) thrown over by the leading man, who is ensnared by neurotic Bette. In Bondage, lovely Frances Dee waits for Leslie Howard to come to his senses. In Dangerous, that task goes to beautiful Margaret Lindsay, who played the dutiful second fiddle to Bette in other WB films, like Bordertown and Jezebel.

The great Alison Skipworth, as Tone’s housekeeper, heaves her mountainous bosom with disapproval at dipsomaniac Davis, and their scenes offer some comic relief.

Bad girl Bette redeems herself by reuniting with an ex-husband that she just tried to kill,   now that's love!

Bette's bad girl atonement means going back to a dopey ex-husband, who she just tried to kill in the prior scene. Talk about a tacked-on ending. Director Alfred E. Green, one of WB’s “studio” directors, who specialized in B+ pictures, does what he can in telling this thin tale. Screenwriter Laird Doyle, whose job it was to whip up this vehicle for Bette, was one of WB’s prolific screenwriters. Sadly, Doyle died at age 29 in 1937, while taking flying lessons.

There is no reason to watch Dangerous except to see Bette Davis in action when she finally got a star role at Warner Brothers. It took three years, two dozen mostly bad movies, and another studio for Warners’ to get a clue in what they had in Bette. A lawsuit by their star a year later, over the lack of good roles, proved that Bette Davis meant business.

Once Bette Davis won her first Oscar, she began to make hay in Hollywood.