dixon-13

Alien invaders with the technology to cross great distances in order to reach a planet with water would not have to fight in face-to-face combat and go to so much trouble overcoming armed resistance; They should be capable of infecting the planet with short half-life biological or chemical weapons (or they could make us insane by blasting the music used in the film). Notice the drones use crude rocket jets to counter gravity, and what appear to be rather conventional weaponry. And combat Marines don't stand around hooting and beating their chests when someone hits a target. Give me a break. But my main problem is with the music, which NEVER LEAVES US ALONE. Instead of filling in to highlight parts of the film in a nuanced fashion, the music is woven into the narrative...rising in volume and tempo just before one side or the other advances...decreasing when characters are more at rest or maybe breathing real hard (even after 20 minutes without moving), reassuring each other with trite conversation, and the like. Who in Hollywood (and New York) decided that the public is unable to appreciate mayhem without incessant ear-splitting orchestration and kettle drum pounding?

Stalag 17 has it all...suspense, mystery, laughs, great acting and directing, and an authentic sense of World War II history. To me, this is the definitive WW II prisoner-of-war story, and I think of it just about every time I use a teabag. The opening sets the tone of the story perfectly, as two prisoners attempt to escape through a tunnel. One of those actors is Michael Moore (nee Moorhouse), who had a truncated movie career after being named to Paramount's Golden Circle along with Gene Barry and others. I was with Michael in L.A. (1950) when he chose his acting name, and have wondered what became of him. I believe he went to England and got some bit TV roles there, but not sure.

Paul Henried tries valiantly to carry this movie, which is badly written, badly directed, and badly edited. Large portions of the film are devoted to people looking blankly around at something or other (or at each other), or perpetually riding horses about the countryside. Actors often seem to be still waiting for their cues even as they're on camera ("oh! am I on?"). At one point, a cannon ball explodes behind a soldier but he grabs his stomach. The sense of scale often is missing due to the overuse of close-ups. The best scenes take place on board ship, and the pursuit scenes are fairly well done. But for the most part, the acting is wooden and formulaic, and the sword fight scenes are poorly choreographed.