Wizarding Times

With the winter holidays fast approaching, it might seem like holiday movies would be the most obvious movies to review for you this issue, but I'm not that predictable. See, I thought about it and realized that, with the gift-giving and partying and stuff, on top of the iffy economy, now would be the perfect time to highlight some movies you can download¹, perfectly legally, absolutely free. That's right, I'm talking about the public domain!

Don't worry, though; these aren't low-budget, sloppy throwaway films from no-name studios. These movies feature some of the biggest stars of old Hollywood at the best studios. So head on over to Archive.org and look for The Kennel Murder Case, The Scarlet Pimpernel, and Royal Wedding.

¹These particular films are probably at most local libraries, too, in case you can't download them. Or, if you're feeling really festive, you might be able to find them in, like, a dollar store or something. Nice and inexpensive-like.

The Kennel Murder Case (1933)

(Directed by Michael Curtiz. Starring William Powell, Mary Astor, Eugene Pallette, Robert McWade, and Helen Vinson.)
Available from Archive.org here.

Back in the day, detective stories were rather popular, particularly those of a serial nature. Between books, film, and radio, you had Nick Charles, Philip Marlowe, Sam Spade, Nero Wolfe, Bulldog Drummond, Richard Diamond, and dozen more. One who was popular in all genres was Philo Vance, who just so happens to be the detective in this film.

The Kennel Murder Case begins quietly enough, at the Long Island Kennel Club dog show. Of course, things don't stay quiet for long. A man by the name of Archer Coe is found dead in a locked room of an apparent suicide. Despite what Detective Heath (Eugene Pallette) and District Attorney Markham (Robert McWade) think, Philo Vance (William Powell) doesn't think this case is a simple suicide. Things get more complicated when the coroner finds that Archer Coe was struck on the head, stabbed, and shot. Archer Coe was an unpopular sort, so there are a lot of suspects, from his niece Hilda Lake (Mary Astor) to his brother Brisbane to his special lady-friend Doris Delafield (Helen Vinson), not to mention his household staff. It's up to Vance to sort out who the murderer is before anyone else gets hurt.

One of the most important things for any good mystery story is the mystery itself, the whodunit, if you will. And The Kennel Murder Case has a fabulous mystery in it. I mean, a man is found all alone, dead and apparently murdered, but all the entrances to the room are locked from the inside! How did that happen? And everyone and their brother seem to have plenty of reasons to kill Archer Coe, so the suspect list is rather huge. Not to mention it all has to be sorted in about 75 minutes. And it is sorted in that amount of time, nicely, with some clever twists here and there. All in all, it's a really solid mystery story.

There can't be enough said about William Powell. I mean, just generally speaking. Powell was able to portray eccentric characters in a really warm, believable way. You usually can't help but like his characters, even the rogues. Vance isn't a rogue, of course, but Powell makes him a much more likable character. There's an incredible amount of warmth and approachability to Powell's Philo Vance, whereas the original book version is particularly difficult (for me) to follow. (Which is why I'll probably never finish The Gracie Allen Murder Case, but I digress.) And, on top of that, you get a real sense of intelligence and active listening (and seeing) from the performance. You don't get the sense that Vance notices important clues because it's necessary for the plot; rather, Powell's performance makes it feel much more organic.

In terms of the Archive.org version, quality-wise, it's about on par with any copy you're likely to find. It's mostly okay, and it's certainly sufficient for streaming online, but it does seem a little washed out, without as much contrast as one would perhaps want. But, as far as I'm aware, there's not a more "official" release, and this is about as good as you'll find for this movie.

Ooh, fun fact: William Powell played not one, but two famous literary detectives in a film series. Besides playing Philo Vance in four films, he also starred in six MGM pictures as Nick Charles, the detective in Dashiell Hammett's The Thin Man. Besides being played by the same actor, both characters are wealthy men who don't need to work but do take the occasional detective case if it's interesting enough. Also? Both characters have small dogs who go with them on cases (Captain McTavish for Philo Vance and Asta for Nick Charles).

The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934)

(Directed by Harold Young. Starring Leslie Howard, Merle Oberon, Raymond Massey, and Anthony Bushell.)
Available from Archive.org here.

"They seek him here, they seek him there...." So begins the legendary little poem about the Scarlet Pimpernel, Baroness Emmuska Orczy's daring and mysterious hero of the French Revolution. A popular dramatic character since his first appearance, no one cuts quite as good a figure as "that demmed, elusive Pimpernel" as Leslie Howard.

The Scarlet Pimpernel opens in 1792 Paris, with peasants cheering as aristocrats lose their heads. But a handful of imprisoned aristocrats have been rescued by that cursed Englishman, the Scarlet Pimpernel. He's the bane of the French Republic's existence, so Robespierre sends Citizen Chauvelin (Raymond Massey) to England to discover who this blasted Pimpernel fellow is. Chauvelin turns to an old acquaintance of his, Lady Blakeney, née Marguerite St. Just, one of the most fashionable women in London, for help. To convince her to uncover the Pimpernel's identity, he agrees to turn over a piece of evidence linking her brother Armand to the Scarlet Pimpernel. Meanwhile, Marguerite's husband, Sir Percy Blakeney (Leslie Howard), is one of the most foppish and foolish men in the country and can be of no help to her, even if there wasn't this new coldness between them. Can Marguerite betray the noble Pimpernel? Can the Pimpernel save Armand? What caused the cold distance between Sir Percy and his wife?

I don't imagine that an actor can play Sir Percy Blakeney and not have fun. I mean, the language ("Sink me!" "Who, sir? Me, sir? No, sir." "Gad!" "Zounds!" and so forth) is just amazingly convoluted, particularly for modern ears; plus, it just sounds better when done with a sort of goofy, upper-crust sort of tone, so it's just a load of fun to watch. I can't imagine that Leslie Howard didn't enjoy playing all of Percy's silliness. On top of that, whoever plays Sir Percy also gets to play the (spoiler!! except not really, 'cause it's revealed pretty early on) Scarlet Pimpernel, and with that comes a variety of disguises, as well as a rather serious side. In fact, the actor who gets to play this role gets to do pretty much everything an actor could wish to do, all in one role. And, let me tell you, Leslie Howard does a magnificent job. His foppish Sir Percy sounds completely idiotic, but in a non-idiotic way. (I know that doesn't make sense.) What I mean is that he sounds ridiculous but you know that, were this a real person, he wouldn't sound silly to himself. As for the Pimpernel side of the character, there's a stoicism there that's at once hopeful and tragic, which is perfectly right for the character.

I could talk a bit about the other actors in this movie, because they're all good, but next to Leslie Howard, you kind of forget about them. I mean, Merle Oberon and Raymond Massey are both excellent actors and are able to bring their characters to life, but the star of this show is always the Scarlet Pimpernel; if he fails, it doesn't matter how good everyone else is (in this case, they were very good). Good thing for us he didn't fail.

Okay, I have to admit something. Nay, even confess something. This version of The Scarlet Pimpernel is all well and good, but it's not my favorite. My favorite is a TV version made in the early '80s, starring Anthony Andrews as Sir Percy, Jane Seymour as Marguerite, and Ian McKellen as Chauvelin. Perhaps it's because it's the first Scarlet Pimpernel I ever saw, or maybe because it's considerably longer and has more time to develop the story and relationships, or maybe because Anthony Andrews' Sir Percy Blakeney is kind of incredible, but it's the best version out there, really. Leslie Howard is good. In fact, he's very good, and set the standard for all Scarlet Pimpernels for nearly fifty years. But, like any record, eventually someone has to break it, and that's been done by Anthony Andrews.

That said, you should definitely check out the 1934 version of The Scarlet Pimpernel. It's got a tour-de-force performance by Leslie Howard, who was so much better than Gone With the Wind showed, and it's a triumph of some of the earlier days of British cinema. Plus, you can get it for free.

Fun fact: Leslie Howard later directed and starred in a movie called Pimpernel Smith, in which he played the Pimpernel character. Again.

Royal Wedding (Wedding Bells) (1951)

(Directed by Stanley Donen. Starring Fred Astaire, Jane Powell, Peter Lawford, Sarah Churchill and Keenan Wynn.)
Available from Archive.org here.

I have to tell you something right off. If you're of a certain age, you've probably seen part of this movie in the guise of a vacuum cleaner commercial. Which is, you know, *sigh* fine and all, but there's so much more to this film, I can't even tell you. And, honestly, I really love this movie. So... you've been warned, I guess. Anyway.

Royal Wedding (or Wedding Bells in the U.K.) is the story of Tom and Ellen Bowen (Fred Astaire and Jane Powell), a brother and sister who are huge Broadway stars. Their latest show is going to London, and it's set to open right before the most exciting thing happening in the world: Princess Elizabeth's (you might know her as Queen Elizabeth II) marriage to Prince Philip. And, because this is a musical, they find romance along the way. For Tom, it's with dancer Anne Ashmond (Sarah Churchill); for Ellen, it's with Lord John Brindale (Peter Lawford).

Okay, so like a lot of musicals, the plot is rather flimsy. But that's not why we watch musicals, now, is it? What makes or breaks a musical is the musical numbers, and there are a bunch here, particularly for only 90 minutes of movie. Let's see, there's "Every Night at Seven," "Sunday Jumps," "Open Your Eyes," "The Happiest Day of My Life," "You're All the World to Me," "Too Late Now," "I Left My Hat in Haiti," and, my favorite, "How Could You Believe Me When I Said I Love You When You Know I've Been a Liar All My Life?" And, no, I'm absolutely not kidding about that last title.

Two of the numbers are just singing: "The Happiest Day of My Life" and "Too Late Now." They give Jane Powell a chance to show off her coloratura sopranoness in a lovely way. One number, "Sunday Jumps," is instrumental and features Fred Astaire by himself; Astaire has another solo in "You're All the World to Me." The other four numbers feature Astaire and Powell together, ostensibly from their hit Broadway musical show-within-a-show, but there's nothing about them that makes them seem connected. Not that it matters, though, because they're fabulous fun.

Let's talk about the solo numbers. I really like Jane Powell, generally speaking. This movie gave her a great opportunity to play more of an adult character than she'd played in the past, and she does really well with it. That said, her two solos are when I sort of check out of the movie a bit, mostly because the songs are both ballads and I'm waiting to get to my favorite stuff. Not that they're bad or anything; it's just not exactly what I'm watching the movie for. Still, though, I sometimes find myself jealous of her clear high notes.

Astaire's two solos, though, are the stuff of legend. Literally. The first is "Sunday Jumps," which is the routine that was used in that old vacuum cleaner ad. In this number, he dances with a hat rack and various pieces of gym equipment. It's probably the best found-object dance of the classic Hollywood era. Watching the movie again, I really appreciated the beginning of this number. See, it begins with him setting a metronome and working out dance steps to that beat. Even though it's completely choreographed, it comes off as completely natural. Plus, you get a brief but illuminating glance at Astaire's sense of rhythm. I also noticed how carefully and subtly he spins the hat rack as he dances with it. It's not something you notice right off, but it adds so much to the dance. And, of course, not many people can make something so inanimate appear as graceful as he does that hat rack.

"You're All the World to Me" is a marvel. It may not have the most intricate steps, but it more than makes up for this on the technical side; see, this is the dance in which he literally (literally, people) dances on the walls and ceiling. Before the days of CG graphics and really good blue screening techniques, Fred Astaire (with the help of the MGM technicians, cameramen, and director Stanley Donen) was able to dance on the ceiling, all recorded together, no post-processing necessary. Sure, a quick internet search will tell you how it was done, but watch the number first, so you can experience it fresh.

When it comes to the duets, they all have their charms. "Every Night at Seven" is really nothing but light, breezy, charm. It's cute and kind of adorable, but there's not a lot of depth to it. "I Left My Hat In Haiti" is far too catchy a song, for one thing, and it's kind of ridiculous, but that doesn't matter, because Astaire is wearing a banana yellow suit with a pink shirt and pink socks, and he looks fabulous in it. You'll have to go a long way before finding someone else who can wear such a suit and not look like a freak of some kind. Also, that little dance he does at the beginning of the song is probably the only Fred Astaire dance I can ever do.

"Open Your Eyes" is a funny little number, because it's got two purposes. The song itself, sung by Jane Powell (my favorite of her solo songs here, actually) is a lovely romantic ballad that leads to beautiful dance with her and Astaire. Only, it turns into a comedy number because... okay, let me explain. They're on a ship, crossing the Atlantic. They've been asked to entertain the passengers with a song and dance, and they're quite happy to do so. Only, when they start, the weather's gotten a bit nasty so the boat starts rocking a bit. Let's just say that they have to try to compensate for this oceanic activity, and it doesn't always turn out in their favor. According to Jane Powell, the mechanics of the stormy dance always worked, but that sometimes meant that the performers messed up when they shouldn't have.

The other duet is my absolute favorite from this movie, and that's "How Could You Believe Me When I Said I Love You When You Know I've Been a Liar All My Life?" It's got Astaire and Powell (wearing a short black wig) as a low-class couple, complete with city-esque accents and slang and gum chewing. For Astaire, who'd been wearing tuxedos on stage since he was 6, this was a glorious departure; you can tell he's really enjoying himself. For Powell, this was a chance for her to do something other than sing angelically; she gets to be rough and slangy, and she gets dance without having to look "pretty" doing so. And, really, besides the long title, the song is really funny, with both of them giving as good as they got. It's such a departure from their usual roles that it's a joy to watch.

Oh, goodness, I just remembered another song. Gah. It's called "What a Lovely Day for a Wedding," and it's sung by Keenan Wynn, who plays the duel roles of Irving and Edgar Klinger (the Bowens' agents), and various Londoners. While "I Left My Hat In Haiti" is a catchy song, it's nowhere near as catchy as this one, which is a shame, because this song is... kind of annoying. It's so annoying that I try to forget about it, and I usually succeed. (I watched the movie three nights ago, after having seen it dozens of times in the past, and I totally forgot it existed until just now.)

So those are the numbers. What about the, you know, story and stuff, the other actors? Well, Sarah Churchill is nice enough, but I honestly don't know that they used her as fully as they might have. I think it would have been nice to see her dance a bit more, and I'd like to be able to say something about her performance other than stoic, but that's about all I can say about it. Maybe she was... underplaying? I don't know. I just know she's not the most exciting thing in this movie. Peter Lawford is also not particularly exciting here. Sure, he brings the Peter Lawford charm, which is all well and good, and it's not like the role requires much more than that, but it still feels like he's not fully there. Still, they don't have much to do, and really don't play that huge a role in the movie (strange, but true), so it's totally okay.

Honestly, this movie rests upon the shoulders of Fred Astaire and Jane Powell; everything hinges on how well they perform together. And, if I'm being completely honest, they have a fantastic rapport and they're really fun to watch. That's what makes this such a feel-good movie for me. It's just so fun.

I should note that, in addition to the Archive.org version, there are a lot of public domain copies of this out there. However, I should also note that, if you're feeling festive and can get your hands on it, Warner Home Video has released a restored version, all crisp and shiny, on DVD, in a double disc set with Astaire's The Belle of New York. It's so good you can clearly see the seams on Jane Powell's stockings!

Fun fact: The general premise of the movie — famous brother and sister act split up because sister marries a nobleman — is based on Fred Astaire's life; his sister Adele, touted by some critics of the day as the talent in the Astaire family, left show business in 1932 to marry Lord Cavendish. Extra fun fact: The situation on the stormy boat is based on something that happened to Fred and Adele in the 1920s.