Ingagi (1930)

A documentary crew travels to Africa to film the natives and wildlife. There they learn of a tribe that sacrifices girls to the “ingagi” (or gorilla). Except, the crew never left Los Angeles.

Done in voice over, much of the film feels like an early episode of Wild Kingdom. No real narrative and a little boring, save for the oddly frequent need to kill animals for fresh meat. But a critical eye will notice that scenes featuring the principles will show them in front of tall grass or shrubs while long shots feature the recognizable African Serengeti. But the reason for Ingagi’s infamy is in the final few minutes. A naked native woman is sacrificed to a gorilla. For, you know. Nudge nudge, wink wink.

Ingagi entered my radar years ago when I learned of a controversial, early exploitation film. It was either lost or unavailable until it appeared on YouTube a couple years ago. As mentioned, the filmmakers never went to Africa. They stole footage from earlier safari films, added scenes filmed at a local zoo, then recorded the narration. The end result is a somewhat plausible nature documentary, with a side order of implied bestiality. And if Charles Gemora, the man in the ape costume, fathered his children while wearing it, well, that’s his business.

Ingagi (a completely made up word) had difficulty being distributed but was wildly popular where it was shown. The MPAA tried to keep it suppressed but anti-trust legislation made that difficult. In the end, they resorted to insisting it be labeled a work of fiction. The filmmakers refused.

A great many words could be written about the kerfuffle this film caused, but there are videos that do a pretty good job covering that. But were I to focus only on what we see on screen, there wouldn’t be much to say. If nature films or safari adventure is your thing, look elsewhere. If sexy native women are your thing, look elsewhere. Ingagi was provocative in its day, but today it’s a snoozefest. AMRU 2.

Long Day’s Journey Into Night (1962)

A well to do theater family, staying in a summer cottage, air out their grievances. Roll credits ... three hours later.

As playwright Eugene O’Neill is the sole writing credit, this seems to be less based on his play as it is a slightly abridged version of it. Very autobiographical, the play was published posthumously. Many details of the characters closely match those of his immediate family, including the house it is set in.

The father (Ralph Richardson) was a promising actor who gave up the sage for love. His tightfistedness is responsible for many of the family’s problems. The mother (Katherine Hepburn) became addicted to morphine prescribed during a difficult childbirth. The eldest son (Jason Robards) is a drunken layabout, rebelling against his father’s pressure to be that great actor dad could never become. And youngest son (Dean Stockwell) has tuberculosis and may die, unless dad springs for one the high class sanatoriums.

Jason Robards was very familiar to me from his later career, but exactly where I can’t say. It was interesting to see him at the youthful age of … 40? Of course Dean Stockwell will always be remembered as Al from Quantum Leap. It was quite strange seeing him as a handsome young man instead of as, well, as Al.

Even compared to other stage play adaptations, this is an amazingly talkie film. Individual family members come and go to allow various combinations for scenes. There is a maid who gets little screen time, a cook who gets none, and a driver who appears only in the distance.This is entirely a story about the family. Eugene’s family. It is engaging, and the performances, while very theatrical, are very good. Except for Stockwell's. I feel he was a bit out of his league, here.

Some of the interactions were strange, however. They seemed all over the place. During a single conversation two people would go from sarcastic, to shouting, to emotionally bonding, to angry again, all without a clear reason. It was a little annoying. In the end, nothing is really resolved, but I suppose they understand each other a bit better. Another viewer might think differently. AMRU 3.

One Way Passage (1932)

Dashing Dan (William Powell) catches the eye of pretty Joan (Kay Francis). They fall in love while sharing a voyage to San Francisco, but are keeping a dark secret. Convicted of murder, Dan is returning to face the hangman’s noose, while Joan is terminally ill. They sneak around, have adventures, and everyone lives happily ever after.

Character actor Frank McHugh is Skippy, Dan’s comic relief friend. He’s come up quite a few times in my travels putting him into the ‘Familiar, but can’t quite place him’ category. Same could be said for Roscoe Karns, but his role here was uncredited and quite small. Pretty Kay Francis is quite charming in the lead. She had a moment in the early thirties, but limited acting range and a slight lisp soon relegated her to second tier films and second fiddle roles before the decades end.

One Way Passage is a fairly simple story but it makes use of its characters and premise well. Barrel House Betty, who feigns aristocracy to scam rich idiots, has more depth than you might expect. The same could be said for the knucklehead cop bringing Dan to justice. And the ending, well, see for yourself. At times funny and touching, and always entertaining to watch. William Powell always delivers. AMRU 3.5.

2022 Retrospective

2022 Retrospective

I have a list problem. I keep making them. In this case it’s films I must watch. For instance every Marx Brothers film, which I finished off in July. I got it into my head to watch every available Hitchcock directed film, which quickly became a slog. I saw four in 2022. I expect to see the rest, but I’m in no hurry. I managed to polish off the Rathbone Sherlock Holmes films in May. I must be more selective with arbitrary lists going forward.

I wanted to see more foreign language films this year and I did. Bob le flambeur (1956) was my clear favorite. Godard’s Alphaville (1965) rubbed me the wrong way. I had high hopes. Silent films were also a priority. Three of the four I watched were by Hitchcock, so my clear favorite was Buster Keaton’s The Navigator (1924). Keaton did twelve silent comedies, of which I’ve covered seven. As they are all considered excellent, this is an arbitrary list I can get behind.

I watched one musical this past year, the forgettable Royal Wedding (1951), and two westerns, Hud (1963) and Johnny Guitar (1954), both oddballs in the genre. Twelve films are labeled Horror. I mostly enjoyed them, even the stinkers. I’m looking at you, Trog (1970)!

I didn’t manage any Christmas films, and the reason is twofold. After three years, covid finally caught up with me in December. Focusing on anything, even a Christmas movie, was a chore. Also, nearing the day itself, my DVR went into stupid mode. Tech support issued a reset over the wire to fix it, zeroing out everything I had recorded. I had replaced my DVR in October making this the second time I lost everything. This unit died in January and I lost it all yet again. I need a plan in place for when this one fails.

Nightmare Alley (1947) got my highest rating of 4.5, but didn’t stick with me like some others. Nine others were rated 4, and truth be told, I don’t which was the best of the bunch. Perhaps Stalag 17 (1953) or Johnny Guitar.

Without a doubt the film I enjoyed least was Godard’s Alphaville (1965). It is neither sci-fi nor film-noir, but a deconstruction and critique of both genres. I understand how Noir’s values became completely out of step with the times, but I wasn’t expecting a mostly unwatchable, pretentious criticism of it.

I am satisfied with the quantity and quality of the year’s films in retrospect. I wanted to check a few more best pictures, and had a few recorded, but you can guess what happened. Still haven’t seen an Elvis movie, and I expect that streak to continue. Reviewing last year’s predictions for 2022, I nailed them all except getting over fifty film mark. No regrets, though. I saw the movies I wanted to see.

More of the same, looking forward. Two or three Keaton silent comedies, for sure. A couple best pictures. I want to watch more films from 1990 onward. I won’t post about them but may keep track for recap purposes. For the record, Glass Onion was pretty good, not quite as enjoyable as Knives Out, and The Menu was quite unexpected. Still disappointed that I haven’t seen Everything Everywhere, All at Once yet.

Romeo and Juliet (1968)

The rich Capulet and Montague families are feuding for some reason, but young Romeo (Leonard Whiting) and younger Juliet (Olivia Hussey) catch each other’s eyes, and therefore fall madly in love. They marry in secret, people are killed, things get complicated, and everyone lives happily ever after.

Everyone knows the story, even those who never read it nor watched it performed. This is me. I’ve seen a few of the Bard’s plays, but I somehow missed this one. Here are my thoughts.

Romeo and Juliet is a stage play. To be performed on a stage, with stage props, for a play-going audience. As such, the flowery language and outsized behaviors fit the intended medium, the unreality of a theater stage. When the play is performed on location in gorgeous Tuscany, with real props and costumes, there becomes a certain dissonance between the real and theatrical. And the fact that all audio was recorded after filming and looped in during post adds to this dissonance.

Now, let’s talk about the infamous scene. Our heroes finally get together in the second act to consummate their marriage. Our director decided that the scene needed a little something extra. That something was nudity. I have no issue with that in principle, and the scene was done tastefully, but it is problematic for a couple reasons.

First, the leads were seventeen and fifteen. Special permission had to be granted for Hussey, who long downplayed the controversy. But to up the creepiness factor, Hussey did say that the 45 year old Zeffirelli fell in love with her during filming. He later called her his “unrequited love of my life”. Secondly, one week after I watched the film, Hussey and Whiting sued the studio, saying they were coerced into appearing nude. Coercing a minor to be filmed nude makes you a predator.

Controversy aside, I couldn’t get past the chasm between style and setting. It’s a hard thing to post a negative review of a work by the most influential English language writer, but a play is a play, and a movie is a movie. If you must craft one into the other, certain choices need to be made. AMRU 2.5.