Men We Love: Cary Grant

A Lizard in a Woman's Skin (1971)

Paper dolls of murder victims > chalk outlines.  End of story.

Lucio Fulci does not get the respect that he deserves.  Sure, he's drubbed by critics, but those of us who follow Euro-cult and b-movies are used to that.  So-called "serious" critics routinely deride the work of a host of directors, from Jean Rollin to Norifumi Suzuki, as "just" exploitation filmmakers, as though the fact that these artists took advantage of new freedoms from censorship meant that their work was bereft of artistic contribution.

The Cat's Paw (1934)

Harold Lloyd as Ezekial Cobb and Una Merkal as Pet

The Cat's Paw is a remarkably watchable early talkie from veteran silent star Harold Lloyd, but Lloyd has little to do with what makes it special. After reviewing the initial script, Lloyd decided that his standard array of gags and pitfalls would be out of place, and so left them out. He was right--turning The Cat's Paw into a slapstick would have ruined it--but as a straight actor, even a comic one, Lloyd has little to add to a well thought out and clever script like this one, and his performance comes across as a bit lackluster. Fortunately, he's not the only one in the film: the exquisite Una Merkel is on hand to save the day, and easily overshadows him. "Say, why don't you get a new line?" Merkel advises Lloyd in one of their first meetings, "Or better still, don't try to be funny."

The Naked Kiss (1964)

Constance Towers as Kelly - K E double-L Y.

The cinema is a mountain you never finish climbing.  My co-author and I both spend far too much time watching movies, buying DVD's, and reading about film history, and yet there still remain (will always remain) tremendous vistas yet to be admired, staggering cliff-faces yet unnoticed.  Odin willing, that will always be the case.  As a film fan I know of few pleasures as great as the discovery of a talent or genre that previously lurked just off your personal radar.

Women We Love: Marie Liljedahl

Double Crossbones (1951)

There are two things I may never tire of: pirate movies, and Donald O'Connor. To find them both in the same film is a rare pleasure, even if the film, and O'Connor's performance in it, are far from legendary.

Design for Living (1933)

Gary Cooper and Miriam Hopkins

With the list of names on board for Design for Living, it had better be incredible, and thankfully it does not disappoint. Ernst Lubitsch directs a Noel Coward play, starring Gary Cooper, Miriam Hopkins, Frederic March, and Edward Evertt Horton, and every one of them has got their game face on, and how. The dialog sparkles with impossible wit. Nobody speaks like this, but we don't watch movies to see real life; we have real life for that. As is often the case with Lubitsch's films, Design is interested in how human beings, with their own agendas for their sex lives, fit into a society, which frequently imposes on them a radically different agenda. Design approaches this question in the context of the clash of the worlds of advertising and art, of the difference between the things that really matter to people, and the things that someone has a vested interest in making them think matter.