Royal Wedding (1951)

Famous brother-sister dance team (that’s a thing) are hired to perform for the Queen’s wedding, so they hop on a ship and set sail for a caricature of Merry Old England. On board playa sista (Jane Powell) meets up and falls in love with fellow playa and rat-packer Peter Lawford, who in this context is a British Lord. Brother (Fred Astaire) must wait until England before he falls for … Winston Churchill’s daughter? Ok, so that happened. Will love bloom? Right, we addressed that.

Jane Powell playing Astaire’s sister defied credibility as she was and very much looked thirty years his junior. She acted in only twenty two features, of which I’ve only seen the problematic Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Here she used a vocal technique called screeching. She passed away only last fall.

The only thing I knew about Peter Lawford is that he was in Frank Sinatra’s rat pack. Was, as in, was kicked out because of something to do with the Kennedys and Sinatra's ties to the mob. Probably more to it than that. Peter's career would falter and would die at 61, because of drink, I’m guessing.

Old buddy Keenan Wynn has a vaguely amusing double role. He has appeared in a ton of things, both great and terrible. I’ll always remember him as Winter. But let’s talk about Mae Clarke. She was a natural for sexy pre-code roles but personal problems and a car accident put her career on the skids. When sexy roles dried up during production code enforcement, she was relegated to B pictures. I suspect, however, that her slide had more to do with personal issues than production codes. Here, she earned the role of “Telephone Operator #1 (uncredited)”.

Astaire dances with a coat rack, on a rocking ship, and finally on the ceiling, using the rotating set originated by my buddy-pal Buster Keaton. If that is your thing, likely you will more than tolerate Royal Wedding. I’m sure it represents Astaire’s latter career just fine. For me, the song and dance numbers were tedious, the chemistry unconvincing, the story paper-thin, and the comedy incidental. AMRU 2.5.

The Navigator (1924)

A rich dink (Buster Keaton) plans his honeymoon then announces to his love that they are to be married. When she rejects him, he decides to go to Hawaii alone. Criminal backstory has them both set adrift on the USS Navigator, neither knowing the other is onboard.

Buster made twelve silent comedy features, seven of which I have seen. The last five are the lowest (but not low) rated of the bunch, and I will pick them off. That’s just what I needed. Another list to complete.

After Buster’s rejection he sees a loving couple driving in a car. They also happen to be black, and loneliness is the take-away. How progressive, I thought. That thought didn’t last long. Later, when on the boat, they come across an island peopled with angry cannibals. Yea, you know how that went down.

The Navigator is Buster Keaton at the top of his game, the gags innovative and effective. There is an amusing (and dangerous) underwater scene and a set piece that would later inspire a scene in Inception and in a film I will get to very soon. To say it’s in the top five of Keaton’s silent comedies doesn’t sound like high praise, but it actually is. AMRU 4.

Dressed to Kill (1946)

Bad guy in prison knows the location of stolen loot and the cops are desperate to find out where. Cohorts on the outside need to buy junky music boxes because reasons. Watson’s buddy runs afoul of the bad guys, and Holmes is on the case.

It was nice to see old friend Ian Wolf again. This is our fifteenth film together and forth in the Holmes series. So, why Dressed to Kill? Maybe because the lady-baddy was a fancy dresser, but I suspect it’s because movies need titles. I understand the story (as is The Pearl of Death) is loosely based on Sir Doyle’s “The Adventure of the Six Napoleons” and not the 1980 Angie Dickinson/Michael Caine vehicle. There was also a silent film and a mostly forgotten noir-adjacent film from 1941 by that title.

Not exactly a mystery. We know who the bad guys are and what they are trying to accomplish. It’s just the nature and location of the loot, and what the music boxes have to do with anything, that we are to learn. And that’s just fine. Consistent in tone and complexity, these films are just fun to watch. Were I to complain, though, it would be where our heroes get into trouble by being absurdly dumb. I get it, if Holmes were always two steps ahead, there would be no danger or drama. But they aren’t supposed to be dumb, either. Holmes, anyhow.

This is my penultimate Holmes film and the last chronologically. I don’t know if I will miss them once I’m done and I doubt I will ever revisit them, but for now I am enjoying them. The last one will require a trip to the library. AMRU 3.5.

The Four Skulls of Jonathan Drake (1959)

When Professor Jonathan Drake has a vision of three skulls, he knows his brother Kenneth is in danger. But by the time he arrives at the country mansion, Kenneth is already dead. Routine heart attack, nothing suspicious. No need to run a toxicology scan. Oh, and his head is missing. The police suspect foul play but professor Drake knows it’s the family curse.

Directed by schlockmeister Edward Cahn who helmed 72 films in his career. Not a bad total, but impressively he directed 44 features between 1956 and 1961 alone. That averages to over seven films a year. That’s … exhausting. How did he rush through that many films? Simple. He rushed through them. Everything about this picture felt rushed. The script, acting, stage direction, everything. I’m sure only the most disastrous takes were redone. Cahn would direct two more in 1962, then die. And so it goes.

I thought I had seen The Four Skulls just before I started my blog but apparently that was The Screaming Skull. I watched a lot of this sort of thing in the year prior to blogging. Obvious bad guy type Henry Daniell is the obvious bad guy. Coming from the stage, he seemed to be the only actor to rehearse their lines (such as they are) prior to filming. This is the eleventh film I’ve seen him in, including three Sherlock Holmes.

Despite itself, The Four Skulls of Jonathan Drake was enjoyable to watch. The sets were fine, the story made sense, and was barely over an hour long. It held my interest without taxing my slip glazed brain. What more could one want? AMRU 3.5.