chrisart7
ene 2006 se unió
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Distintivos4
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Reseñas28
Clasificación de chrisart7
"Mistress of Atlantis" was filmed in 1932 in German, French, and English language versions, with mostly the same cast in each. The English version was so choppy and confusing in its editing that I am curious to see if the German or French version were the same.
Brigitte Helm was famed for playing Maria (and her evil robot counterpart) in "Metropolis," Fritz Lang's 1927 classic, but here she is Antinea, queen of Atlantis, replete with angular Art Deco eye mascara. "Mistress of Atlantis" was made three years after "Trader Horn" and three years prior to "She," but all of these share the trope of a Caucasian woman ruling in a mysterious, exotic locale until some western males happen upon her hidden regime.
The script (and the aforementioned bad editing) is the weak link in a film with an interesting premise, opening with the French foreign legion in a north African outpost, but character motivations are unclear throughout the entire film. Mood overpowers logic in these oddball proceedings. Director G. W. Pabst fared far better with "Pandora's Box" and "Diary of a Lost Girl," both filmed in 1929 and starring Louise Brooks.
Brigitte Helm was famed for playing Maria (and her evil robot counterpart) in "Metropolis," Fritz Lang's 1927 classic, but here she is Antinea, queen of Atlantis, replete with angular Art Deco eye mascara. "Mistress of Atlantis" was made three years after "Trader Horn" and three years prior to "She," but all of these share the trope of a Caucasian woman ruling in a mysterious, exotic locale until some western males happen upon her hidden regime.
The script (and the aforementioned bad editing) is the weak link in a film with an interesting premise, opening with the French foreign legion in a north African outpost, but character motivations are unclear throughout the entire film. Mood overpowers logic in these oddball proceedings. Director G. W. Pabst fared far better with "Pandora's Box" and "Diary of a Lost Girl," both filmed in 1929 and starring Louise Brooks.
"The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance" was panned and patronised upon release in 1962. I can see why. Legendary director John Ford made a wide-screen, full colour epic with breathtaking photography in 1956, "The Searchers." This 1962 western, in stark contrast, looks like a low budget black-and-white TV show. John Wayne is the star, but he has so little screen time that he's really a co-star. When Jimmy Stewart's attorney character is robbed, he suddenly has the money to buy a perfectly new suit in the next scene...and *another* one after paint gets all over it. They are so clean, pressed, and perfectly tailored that nothing of "the old West" is suggested, but rather studio artifice.
The same goes for handwritten signs and placards in another scene. The penmanship is 1960s, not 1860s. There is no hint of frontier semi-literacy or the calligraphy of the day. Worse still, the cinematography is flat and uninspired. It looks like amateurish garbage next to David Lean's masterful "Lawrence of Arabia," filmed the prior year.
The story is also rather by-the-numbers. The greatest strength of this film is a fine cast. Lee Marvin is utterly convincing (and despicable) as Liberty Valance. On the other hand, Edmond O'Brien hams it up relentlessly as newspaperman Dutton Peabody, as does John Carradine as Major Arbuckle in an extended cameo. Fine actors, but director Ford must have been asleep at the wheel when he lensed their scenes.
No, this film is quite ordinary. A great cast couldn't save it.
The same goes for handwritten signs and placards in another scene. The penmanship is 1960s, not 1860s. There is no hint of frontier semi-literacy or the calligraphy of the day. Worse still, the cinematography is flat and uninspired. It looks like amateurish garbage next to David Lean's masterful "Lawrence of Arabia," filmed the prior year.
The story is also rather by-the-numbers. The greatest strength of this film is a fine cast. Lee Marvin is utterly convincing (and despicable) as Liberty Valance. On the other hand, Edmond O'Brien hams it up relentlessly as newspaperman Dutton Peabody, as does John Carradine as Major Arbuckle in an extended cameo. Fine actors, but director Ford must have been asleep at the wheel when he lensed their scenes.
No, this film is quite ordinary. A great cast couldn't save it.
The pilot film "The Marcus-Nelson Murders" was far and away the best Kojak TV fare, and viewers' introduction to the character. Bleaker and more heart rending than the subsequent series, and filmed in some of NYC's most dilapidated areas of Harlem and Brooklyn, the TV movie showcases some superb acting, especially from Telly Savalas and Jose Ferrer as an attorney.
This film and the first episode of the series that followed also boast the strongest scripts. In these, as well as the following five episodes, Savalas plays Kojak as a simmering, imposing persona, even when dealing with his fellow policemen. It was around the seventh episode and thereafter that there was a revision in the Kojak character, and he was made to be a bit calmer and with more sex appeal with many of the guest starring ladies. There was probably concern that the viewing audience would be turned off by his more hardbitten approach in the pilot and opening six episodes of season one.
While the plots maintained a good to very good level throughout most of the series, they never attained to the level of those in Kojak's first two appearances. Though Savalas said "Who loves ya" a few times in season one, it wasn't until episode 19 ("Down a Dark and Lonely River") that he finally said, "Who loves ya, baby?" And so a legend was born.
Authentic NYC locations further added to the quality of the show, along with a fine rotisserie of established guest stars along with many up and coming actors. The last vestiges of hippie era clothing and fashions were seen in the pilot film and first three episodes, then quickly became downplayed for more "mainstream" '70s fashions and more restrained (for that era) hairstyles.
This film and the first episode of the series that followed also boast the strongest scripts. In these, as well as the following five episodes, Savalas plays Kojak as a simmering, imposing persona, even when dealing with his fellow policemen. It was around the seventh episode and thereafter that there was a revision in the Kojak character, and he was made to be a bit calmer and with more sex appeal with many of the guest starring ladies. There was probably concern that the viewing audience would be turned off by his more hardbitten approach in the pilot and opening six episodes of season one.
While the plots maintained a good to very good level throughout most of the series, they never attained to the level of those in Kojak's first two appearances. Though Savalas said "Who loves ya" a few times in season one, it wasn't until episode 19 ("Down a Dark and Lonely River") that he finally said, "Who loves ya, baby?" And so a legend was born.
Authentic NYC locations further added to the quality of the show, along with a fine rotisserie of established guest stars along with many up and coming actors. The last vestiges of hippie era clothing and fashions were seen in the pilot film and first three episodes, then quickly became downplayed for more "mainstream" '70s fashions and more restrained (for that era) hairstyles.