The Amazing Colossal Man (1957)

The US military is testing a new “plutonium” bomb but it fails to detonate. Soldiers are ordered to stay put but when a civilian plane crashes inside the test site Colonel Manning leaves the safety of his trench to try and rescue the pilot. The bomb detonates and Manning is caught in the blast. He is not expected to live. Miraculously, his skin grows back overnight and doctors are stumped. Things escalate when he starts to grow and his behavior becomes erratic.

One doesn’t expect a “radioactive giant attacks Las Vegas” film to be rock solid with the science, especially when the title sounds like a sideshow attraction, but that low bar may have been too high of a hurdle. The most egregious error was that Colonel Manning’s erratic behavior was blamed on the fact that his heart was growing at a slower pace than the rest of his body because the heart was “only one cell”. Every part of the problem and proposed solution made no sense.

A bigger problem is the film’s reliance on exposition. The bomb test in the opening sequence was described by a man speaking over a loudspeaker, and each time the doctor needed to describe the current situation with Manning, they used the conference room with film strip trope.

On the positive side, the movie makes good use of its tiny budget. The sparse sets made sense in the context of the film. Also, the match cut (if I can call it that) when Manning is hit by the explosion was quite effective. And the heart of the film is about Manning’s feeling of disillusionment and dissociation. We see his attitude transform from anger at his predicament to disregard of the “little people”. Not exactly Oscar worthy, but better depth than you normally expect from the genre.

I kind of liked The Amazing Colossal Man. Producer/Director Bert I. Gordon only made 24 films between 1954 and 2015, and I saw a handful of them in my childhood. This, however, is only the second one during this fourteen year journey. I’ll likely see a few more. AMRU 3.

Ocean’s Eleven (1960)

Veterans of the 82nd Airborne reunite to pull an audacious heist: rob five Las Vegas casinos at the same time, on new year’s. It’ll take a lot of people to pull something like this off. Offhand, I’d say ... ee oh, eleven people.

You will find better heist movies. The planning details are pretty nonsensical, and the film spends understandably little time explaining them. You will also find better comedies. It was amusing in parts, but you won't vocalize a chuckle. What you do find is the entirety of Sinatra’s Rat Pack together in one film, including associate members Shirley MacLaine, Caesar Romero, and Angie Dickinson. Sinatra apparently had a falling out with Peter Lawford and Sammy Davis, Jr, but that was patched up for production. Frank and Peter would fall out again later.

They didn’t give Angie Dickinson much to do. She played Danny Ocean’s (Sinatra) off-put wife who loves him still. The resolution to their differences was left dangling, as were other plot points. Steve McQueen, who appeared with Sinatra and Lawford in Never So Few (1959), was offered a role, but he declined on the advice of friend Hedda Hopper who told him not to become one of Sinatra’s flunkies.

Ocean’s Eleven is a pure vanity project. If watching the Rat Pack pal around and giving knowing nods to inside jokes isn’t your thing, then there isn’t much here for you. If you want a great heist film, watch Kubrick’s The Killing (1956). For a better ensemble comedy, try It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (1963). But it is a piece of history, with too many cameos to count, and interesting enough to hold my attention. AMRU 3.

The Las Vegas Story (1952)

A newlywed couple (Vincent Price and Jane Russell) are traveling when husband Lloyd suggests they stop off in Las Vegas. Wife Linda balks at the idea, but hubby mysteriously insists. She used to sing in a Vegas nightclub and had a mysterious relationship with a mysterious serviceman. Lloyd gets a mysterious line of credit so that he can gamble all night while a mysterious new man takes a mysterious interest in our leading lady. It seems to have something to do with her mysterious diamond necklace.

The story is a murder mystery wrapped in a personal drama, told in cockamamie noir-esque dialog. RKO head Howard Hughes wanted to showcase both some gambling establishments he recently purchased and his leading lady, which the script must always remind the audience is otherworldly beautiful.

I never understood the fascination with Russell. Not unattractive, but she was only the best looking woman on screen when she was the only woman on screen. Contemporary reviews seem to agree, with the New York Times calling her “slightly grotesque to look upon”. That’s harsh. The film bombed.

The film features and is narrated by composer Hoagy Charmichael, who might have been another Crosby/Sinatra had he been prettier. I was curious how he got the nickname Hoagy. Turns out, his real first name is Hoagland, so there you go. Producer Howard Hughes (not Hugh Hefner) led a fascinating and tragic life. He was the prototype of the eccentric billionaire, becoming a shut-in during his last few years. Think Monty Burns. Also consider modern cult of personality billionaires who exhibit bizarre behavior and jump from industry to industry.

To be fair The Las Vegas Story isn't a bad mystery, if not a great one. Its Achilles heel is the nonsensical dialog desperately trying to impart heightened importance to every nuance, which it lacks in the final analysis. Compounding this is the complete lack of chemistry between Jane and ex-flame Lt. Andrews (Victor Mature). Their scenes, which should sizzle, just fall flat. AMRU 2.5.

Viva Las Vegas (1964)

Hot shot race car driver (Elvis) needs cash to buy a motor for his race car so he can compete in the Vegas Grand Prix. He gambles and actually wins the money, but instead of returning to Los Angeles, he decides to harass a pretty woman (Ann-Margret) whom he had been stalking. He inevitably loses the money and gets a waiter job so that he can continue harassing her. Deus ex machina and everyone lives happily ever after.

A script was quickly cobbled up to tie the musical numbers together and it shows in the finished product. It is a cartoonish boy-meets-girl love story with Las Vegas and car racing as the backdrop. But when you make three films a year you can’t expect the best scripts. He made 31 films in fourteen years, all variations on a theme. He was the star in each and top billed in all but his first.

Because of Elvis’ still impressive star power and Ann-Margret’s up-and-coming status, Viva Las Vegas was the biggest hit of his career, out earning A Hard Day’s Night released the same year. A bigger studio and Technicolor might have helped. Both stars began headlining in Las Vegas due to the film’s success. They would date for a while but his marriage to Priscilla would put an end to that. His view that wives are for making babies and not performing in large venues may have played a part in that decision.

At only twenty nine, Elvis looked out of place and out of time, doing his 50’s swagger and snarl while Ann-Margret did her freaky 60’s dance moves. It is said she came the closest to matching his on-screen charisma, but frankly even William Demarest had the better of him. Elvis could perform on stage and read lines on camera, but let’s be honest. Unless you are a rabid fan, he didn’t exactly sizzle out there. Case in point, the title number. Shot as one long take and I wonder if he refused to perform a second take. It was a laughably poor lip sync job.

Likely because the soundtrack was never released, only the title song was familiar. Here’s some fun stuff. In one musical number both Teri Garr (Young Frankenstein, Close Encounters, et. al.) and Toni Basil (Mickey) appear as extras.

Rife with plot holes, like how he must work as a waiter to pay his hotel bill, but has a helicopter he can fly on weekends, but my expectations were appropriately low. And even though the abrupt magical conclusion is annoying, it’s still an amusing watch, even if you are not a fan of the man. AMRU 3.

Cleo from 5 to 7 (1962)

Cleo (Corinne Marchand) is a beautiful woman, a talented singer, and possibly has cancer. She goes about her day while waiting for test results. Her fortune teller is already convinced.

The theme is beauty vs. death, image vs. reality, agency vs. dependency. There are mirrors everywhere and she deludes herself that as long as she has beauty, she will be fine. The story plays out in real time and the viewer is frequently reminded of the time. The strangers, friends, and acquaintances she interacts with cause her to reevaluate her life.

Cleo from 5 to 7 is ranked second on the BBC Culture’s 100 greatest films directed by women. I have seen only nine of them, The House is Black (1963) the lone film covered here. I hope to pick a few more off the list, definitely more Agnes Varda, who appears six times. The Piano (1993) was number one if you were curious.

There is a lot going on with this seemingly simple film, more than I feel qualified to cover. Subtitles have the unfortunate effect of distracting the viewer away from the cinematography, much of the story is there. But, again, more. Cleo deserves a second viewing. AMRU 4.