Elementary, Watson (originally published 3/01)

Of all the fictional detectives ever created, it seems that none has taken hold of our collective imagination as firmly as Sherlock Holmes. People who have trouble remembering their relatives’ addresses have no trouble remembering 221-B Baker Street, and occasionally some of them are moved to send a letter there to consult the master himself. Although he is a fictional character, it sometimes seems that Sherlock Holmes is more real than some of the people I encounter in real life.

Maybe it seems that way, in part, because he has been incarnated on the screen, both the movie screen and the television screen, so many times by so many actors. I haven’t done the research to back up the claim, but I would venture to guess that Holmes has been portrayed more times by more different actors than any other fictional character. Only Tarzan comes to mind as a potential rival.

The most recent actor to take on the role of Holmes is Matt Frewer, of “Max Headroom” fame, in a production of “The Sign of Four” that aired recently on the Odyssey cable network. This was Frewer’s second Holmes film, the first being last year’s remake of “The Hound of the Baskervilles.” If you’re interested in comparing Frewer’s interpretation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s most enduring creation to those of his predecessors, look for these titles on home video.

“Sherlock Holmes: The Early Years” (various dates). The earliest screen adaptations of Doyle’s stories were short silent films, made in the first decade of the existence of motion pictures. Most, naturally, no longer survive. Some of the few remaining scraps of early Holmes cinema have been collected in this videotape, which is available from Movies Unlimited (www.moviesunlimited.com). [2009 UPDATE: This is no longer true, although I did find it for sale at "Hollywood's Attic" online. If interested, you can purchase a VHS copy at http://www.hollywoodsattic.com/shopping/pricelist.asp?prid=1274 -- assuming, of course, that you still have a VHS VCR to play it on.] It includes a 1912 French short subject based on “The Copper Beeches” as well as the earliest known Holmes film, “Sherlock Holmes Baffled,” from 1900. A particular treat is the inclusion of two performances by Ellie Norwood, the first film actor to be regarded as “the definitive Holmes.” Norwood appears in “The Dying Detective” (1921) and “The Devil’s Foot” (1921).

“The Speckled Band” (1931). The earliest Holmes talkie that is available on video is a British production starring Raymond Massey. By this time, William Gillette’s famous stage portrayal had left its indelible mark on Holmes by adding the familiar deerstalker cap and curved Meerschaum pipe to Doyle’s own description of his character. Massey’s Holmes does not fit into any pre-existing mold, however, not even Doyle’s. Instead, he presides over a busy office filled with assistants and futuristic (for the time) equipment. Massey himself was not terribly happy with the result, but it remains an interesting curiosity. [2009 UPDATE: This one has made the transition to DVD. You can find it at http://www.moviesunlimited.com/musite/product.asp?sku=D95859&loc=title]

“A Study in Scarlet” (1933). Reginald Owen is, to my knowledge, the only actor ever to play both Dr. Watson and Sherlock Holmes on the screen. He was Watson to Clive Brook’s Holmes, then took on the lead role for this version of Doyle’s introduction of the character. To call it an adaptation would be an overstatement, however. The producer, Sam Bischoff, had acquired the rights to the title but not to Doyle’s story. Owen himself, along with Robert Florey, wrote a script based on a whole new plot. Owen was an adequate Holmes, but five years later he would leave an altogether more memorable impression in the role of another classic literary character, Ebenezer Scrooge, in the MGM production of “A Christmas Carol” (1938). [2009 UPDATE: This one has also turned up on DVD. Look for it at http://www.amazon.com/Sherlock-Holmes-Study-Scarlet/dp/B00008G8CZ]

“The Triumph of Sherlock Holmes” (1935). The second screen actor to be thought of as “the definitive Holmes” was British stage veteran Arthur Wontner. He remains a particular favorite of Holmes afficionados, who insist that of all the actors to take on the role Wontner comes closest to the character they imagine in their heads when they read the original stories. Indeed, Wontner received a letter of praise and congratulations on his portrayal from Doyle’s own wife. Of Wontner’s five Holmes films, only “The Triumph,” an adaptation of Doyle’s “The Valley of Fear,” remains available on video, although his version of “Silver Blaze” (1937) still turns up occasionally for rent. [2009 UPDATE: Good news for Wontner fans -- there is a very reasonably priced DVD boxed set called "Classic Rarities of Sherlock Holmes" that includes three Wontner/Holmes titles PLUS the above-mentioned Reginald Owen "Study in Scarlet." Look for it at http://www.moviesunlimited.com/musite/product.asp?sku=D72155&loc=title]

Next week we’ll look at more interpretations of the great Sherlock, including that of the actor who became so firmly identified with the role that no one else even bothered to try to follow in his footsteps for more than a decade after he relinquished it.

A Knight at the Movies, part 2 (originally published 5/01)

Being a knight in the modern world just doesn’t have the same cachet as it did in medieval times. Paul McCartney and Elton John, although estimable fellows to be sure, don’t project the same swashbuckling image somehow as Lancelot and Percival. In the old days you had to slay a dragon or seek the Holy Grail to be knighted; nowadays selling a whole lot of CDs is enough to make the cut.

For those who yearn for the heyday of chivalry when knights were bold, there are movies like the currently playing “A Knight’s Tale” to recreate those halcyon days. As we saw last week, this story of a young squire striving to attain the ideal of knighthood is the most recent in a long line of films dealing with the theme. Here are some additional knightly titles to look for on home video.

“The Black Arrow” (1948). For those who like action packed period films, it’s hard to do much better than this lively adaptation of a Robert Louis Stevenson novel. Louis Hayward stars as a British nobleman returning from the War of the Roses only to learn that his father has been murdered. His quest for vengeance leads to a substantial body count, culminating in the obligatory jousting contest pitting good knight against bad knight.

“The Seventh Seal” (1957). If you like your knights a bit more cerebral, try this enduring classic from the imagination of Swedish cinema master Ingmar Bergman. Max von Sydow, a perennial Bergman collaborator, plays Antonius Block, a weary, disillusioned knight returning from the Crusades to find his homeland ravaged by plague. When he himself is confronted by Death, in the person of a shadowy figure robed in black, he is bold enough to ask Death for a reprieve. He proposes to play a game of chess with Death. As long as he can escape checkmate, Death is to allow him to continue living. Death, who is intrigued by the challenge, and who enjoys a good game of chess, agrees to the terms. Bergman uses the duration of their game to raise fascinating questions about the meaning of life and death, including the theme that he would return to again and again in his films: the difficulty of maintaining religious faith in the face of the silence of God. Heady stuff, to be sure, but Bergman carries it off impressively. If you’ve only been exposed to this film by way of its many parodies, you owe it to yourself to experience the original.

“Lancelot of the Lake” (1974). Last week I called your attention to “Knights of the Round Table” (1953), which glorifies and romanticizes the legendary court of King Arthur. At the other end of the spectrum lies “Lancelot of the Lake,” written and directed by French filmmaker Robert Bresson. Camelot is presented here as a failed ideal populated by petty, avaricious knights. The fabled Lancelot is no better, pursuing his affair with Queen Guinevere in the full knowledge that he is undermining everything that Camelot stands for. Bresson’s films are virtually an art form unto themselves, bearing little resemblance to anyone else’s. Chances are you will either love this film or hate it.

“Knightriders” (1981). Paradoxically, one of my own favorite films about knighthood is set in the Twentieth Century. Written and directed by George Romero, who is best known for “Night of the Living Dead” (1968), it includes many of the familiar appurtenances of courtly romances, including chain mail armor, maces, lances, and, of course, jousting contests. The difference is that these latter day knights ride motorcycles rather than horses. The itinerant group travels from one location to another staging medieval style tournaments for the amusement of the locals. The twist is that the leader of the group, played by Ed Harris, has persuaded them to adopt the social mores and ideals of the mythical Camelot. Setting himself up as king, he seeks to embody the chivalric ideal in the modern world.

I suspect that the impulse, dramatized by Romero, to transplant into today’s world that which was noble and high-minded about the age of chivalry lies at the root of our continuing fascination with movies about knights of old. If only those who engage in today’s jousting contests, from corporate board rooms to the halls of Congress, could be held to those age-old standards, we would probably all be better off.

A Knight at the Movies (originally published 5/01)

It’s not so hard to understand why we remain fascinated with knighthood as it existed in the Middle Ages. What could be more seductive, after all, than the ideals of chivalry, the lure of adventure on a grand scale, the challenge of holding oneself to a higher standard, and, of course, the fun of knocking other people off their horses with long poles. The latest screen manifestation of this fascination is “A Knight’s Tale,” in which a young squire attempts to joust his way into the 14th Century aristocracy. For a sampling of how earlier films have presented knights of old, look for these titles on home video.

“Don Quichotte” (1935). The classic Cervantes tale of Don Quixote hearkens back to medieval chivalry rather than portraying it directly. Its hero is a latter day admirer of knight-errantry who sets out to live the life he has so often read about. One of the earliest film adaptations of this venerable novel is a French-British production directed by German filmmaker G.W. Pabst. The title role, played by Russian opera star Feodor Chaliapin, calls for four songs from Quixote, making this the first musical film adaptation of the novel, long before “Man of La Mancha” (1972). The songs were written by famed French opera and ballet composer Jacques Ibert. [2009 NOTE: This one takes some finding these days, but it is around. Look for it here: http://www.vaimusic.com/VIDEO/DVD_4367_DonQuixote.htm]

"When Knights Were Bold” (1936). This British production also pokes fun at knightly chivalry; somewhat less elegantly than Cervantes, to be sure, but all in good fun nonetheless. Taking its cue from Mark Twain’s “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court,” it tells the story of an Englishman who has inherited a castle. Aristocratic ways do not come naturally to him, however, putting him at odds with his rather snooty family. When he is accidentally knocked unconscious by a falling suit of armor, he awakes to find himself in medieval times, where he learns what chivalry is really all about.

“Ivanhoe” (1952). Sir Walter Scott’s epic tale requires a big canvas, and in the 1950s no studio was turning out more lavish fare than MGM. This picture was made at MGM’s British production facility. Mounting big budget productions there made sense owing to the fact that British law at the time required most of the profits earned by American films in the U.K. to be spent there, rather than taking the money out of the British economy. This adaptation of “Ivanhoe” is a prime example of MGM at its international zenith. No expense is spared. The stellar cast features Robert Taylor in the title role, supported by George Sanders, Joan Fontaine, and Elizabeth Taylor. Like many medieval romances, this one is built around the intrigues of Prince John the usurper, scheming to take the throne that rightfully belongs to King Richard the Lionhearted. Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe valiantly fights for Richard while jousting his way into the hearts of two fair ladies. Reproduced below, courtesy of Turner Classic Movies, is the film's promotional trailer.



“Knights of the Round Table” (1953). Following up on the success of “Ivanhoe,” MGM next turned to the most famous tale of courtly romance ever told. The story of King Arthur remains a perennial favorite, and this, being an MGM production, is one of the most opulent screen renderings of the tale of Camelot. Robert Taylor and Ava Gardner star as Lancelot and Queen Guinevere, whose forbidden romance behind the back of King Arthur (Mel Ferrer) takes center stage. It’s a wide stage, however, with plenty of room for big battle scenes and a hefty sampling of the Arthurian legends’ rich cast of characters. From Merlin to Morgan Le Fay to Gawain, chances are good that your favorite character will turn up at least briefly.

Next week we'll look at some additional movie knights -- knights bold, knights errant, and even a few chivalric knights who somehow wandered into the twentieth century.

The Tiny Invaders (originally published 6/03)

As gruesome as movie monsters can be, there’s one thing you have to give them. Even if you can’t kill the average matinee monster, you can at least run away from them. The threat they represent is tangible and corporeal. They’re generally big, ugly, loud, and probably smell bad. That’s what I’d call fair warning.

Much more disturbing to me are the real life malefactors that have quietly and insidiously been invading the bodies of people around the world over the last few months to infect them with SARS. What can you do, after all, when the monster that threatens your life is much too small to see? When you can’t know if the precautions you’ve taken were adequate until it’s much too late?

Naturally, the dramatic potential of this type of tiny invader has not escaped filmmakers through the years. If you’ve stayed indoors with the shades pulled since the SARS outbreak, might as well pass the time by watching some entertaining films about public health calamities. It will give you something to do while you’re waiting for your drinking water to boil.

“The Andromeda Strain” (1971). You will perhaps not be surprised to hear that Michael Crichton was out ahead of the curve on this one. Although he didn’t write or direct this adaptation of his novel, the spirit of his book is well represented. The story centers around a group of scientists who are called together at a super-secret government facility dedicated to the control of unknown biohazards. This place is like the Center for Disease Control and Prevention on steroids, high tech to the nth degree. The assembled scientists are brought together to figure out how to deal with a virus brought back by an experimental space probe. It killed every inhabitant of a small, isolated town except for an infant and a sterno bum. Can the docs isolate their common immunity factor before it’s too late? The climax is a typically harrowing Crichton nail-biter. Reproduced below, courtesy of Turner Classic Movies, is the film's promotional trailer.



“Pursuit” (1972). Crichton again. This one is a TV movie based on “Binary,” one of the books Crichton published under the pseudonym “John Lange.” The premise is that a crazed terrorist is threatening to release a deadly nerve gas in a city that is hosting a political convention. The excellent cast includes Ben Gazzara, E.G. Marshall, and William Windom. Crichton himself directed.

“The Crazies” (1973). In a much lesser-known film, George Romero tried a variation on his “Night of the Living Dead” formula with this sardonic biohazard tale. When the military accidentally releases a virulent biochemical weapon, contaminating the water supply of a small Pennsylvania town, the results are pure Romero. This particular bug causes violent insanity before it actually kills, leading the infected citizenry to maim and brutalize each other before succumbing to the disease.

“The Cassandra Crossing” (1977). Have you noticed that all the titles so far are from the 1970s? What can I tell you, we had a thing for disaster movies back then, from overturned ocean liners to buildings on fire to imperiled airliners. Sooner or later there had to be a train disaster movie, and this was it. The plot involves terrorists on board a European express train, but the ante is further raised by the fact that the terrorists have been exposed to the plague. While the military types, as represented by Burt Lancaster, try to deal with the terrorists, the medical types, as represented by Richard Harris, must try to cope with the spread of plague through the train. It’s all a bit far-fetched, but fun if you’re in the mood.

“Panic in the Streets” (1950). I wanted to throw this one in just to prove that the 1970s didn’t have a complete lock on this kind of film. Richard Widmark stars as a public health doctor with the unenviable task of tracking down a murderer who probably contracted pneumonic plague from his last victim. It’s as tense in its own way as anything Michael Crichton ever dreamed up. Best of all, it was directed by one of the legends of the industry, Elia Kazan.

You should be able to find each of these films on the shelves of one of your local video stores. That’s assuming, of course, that you’re willing to risk leaving the house to go and look for them.

Burning Rubber and Swapping Paint (originally published 6/03)

Despite their name, movies don’t actually move. They are, in fact, nothing more than a succession of still pictures. Even so, the illusion of motion they create is so compelling that we call them motion pictures in spite of the fact that we know better.

Because motion is the single most salient aspect of movies, stories that involve lots of movement have an inherent cinematic advantage over more sedentary subject matter. This accounts, in part, for the popularity of films like the recently released “2 Fast 2 Furious,” which relies heavily on variations on the tried and true action movie gimmick of the high speed car chase. If you’ve seen this high octane thriller and found that it didn’t entirely fulfill your motion quotient, you might want to seek out these films featuring famous car chases.

“Thunder Road” (1958). Robert Mitchum stars as a Tennessee moonshine runner whose fast driving skills keep him just barely one step ahead of the federal revenue agents. This was something of a pet project for Mitchum, who produced and co-scripted in addition to playing the lead.

“Bullitt” (1968). Steve McQueen stars as a San Francisco detective assigned to see that a targeted witness lives to testify. When he detects the bad guys tailing his car, he whips around and starts following them. This leads to a high speed game of cat and mouse. As the two cars leap and lurch over the extremely hilly streets of San Francisco, you may find your heart leaping and lurching into your throat. This was the car chase scene that set the benchmark for all those that followed. Reproduced below, courtesy of Turner Classic Movies, is the film's promotional trailer, which includes a few clips from the famous chase scene.



“Vanishing Point” (1971). Barry Newman plays Kowalski, a professional driver who has contracted to deliver a car from Denver to San Francisco. On a whim, he makes a bet that he can make the trip in 15 hours. As he burns up the road, popping pep pills and breaking laws, he encounters increasing resistance from law enforcement types who take a dim view of his driving methods. Meanwhile, police radio chatter about Kowalski is monitored by a blind disk jockey called “Super Soul” (Cleavon Little), who uses his radio show to cheer Kowalski on. Ultimately, this is a rather bleak, road-to-nowhere existentialist film. Still, it’s a rare treat for car chase fans, since almost the whole movie is one long chase scene.

“The French Connection” (1971). Director William Friedkin’s career was made by this gritty tale of New York narcotics cops tracking down a French drug kingpin. Gene Hackman as Jimmy “Popeye” Doyle and Roy Scheider as his partner, Buddy Russo, aren’t your basic by-the-book cops, but they seem to get results. The legendary chase scene involves Doyle pursuing a man who has just taken a shot at him. When the bad guy takes an elevated transit train, Doyle’s only hope of catching him is to get to the next station first. He commandeers a car and races flat-out under the elevated tracks. It’s a real white-knuckle ride, with Friedkin throwing one obstacle after another in Doyle’s path.

“The Seven Ups” (1973). Philip D’Antoni, who produced “The French Connection,” directed this one. It’s a kind of semi-reprise of the earlier film, retaining Roy Scheider and the car chases but without devoting a lot of time to plot and characterization. Others might feel cheated, but the car chase purists will love it.

“The Driver” (1978). Writer/director Walter Hill’s dark drama pits Ryan O’Neal as a getaway driver against Bruce Dern as the cop who is obsessed with nailing him. The film begins and ends with spectacular chase sequences, one in which O’Neal’s character is the pursued and one in which he is the pursuer.

“Live and Let Die” (1973). I can’t resist mentioning the chase from this first film with Roger Moore as James Bond. It isn’t strictly a car chase because most of the chasing is done in speedboats, but it is a very funny parody of movie chase conventions. Most of the humor comes from focusing on the havoc inflicted on bystanders, from a pool party to a wedding party.

There are some other great movie car chases available on video that I’d love to tell you about but, frankly, the shock absorbers on my DVD player are shot from all this tearing around. Until I can get the suspension overhauled, I’d better stick to more tranquil categories.

Pixar's Predecessors (originally published 6/03)

Too often, taking a child to the movies proves to be a distasteful chore. Naturally, you want to avoid the violence and salaciousness of the R-rated fare, so you opt for the “kiddie films.” These are guaranteed to be free of blood, gore, and kinky sex, but, unfortunately, they are usually equally free of imagination, interesting characters, and ideas of any kind.

In recent years, however, a marvelous company called Pixar has demonstrated that films aimed at young audiences need not sacrifice storytelling excellence. From “Toy Story” (1995) to “Monsters, Inc.” (2001) to their most recent release, “Finding Nemo,” they have consistently shown a concern for telling engaging and coherent stories rather than simply allowing their animation virtuosity to carry their films.

Pixar didn’t invent the radical idea of employing talent and taste in the production of children’s films, however. They merely resurrected it after a long period of dormancy. For a sampling of earlier films that target young audiences without insulting their intelligence, look for these titles on home video.

“The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T” (1953). This was the only original film script written by Dr. Seuss (Theodore Geisel). It is a wonderful fantasy about a tyrannical piano teacher who enslaves 500 children to play for him on an enormous piano. The role of the nefarious Dr. Terwilliger is played by Hans Conried, a character actor whose name may not be familiar to you, but whose voice undoubtedly will be. If you love reading the Dr. Seuss books to your kids, and find that you keep on reading them after the kids are asleep, give this gem a try.

“The Seven Faces of Dr. Lao” (1964). Don’t be put off by the title. I know it sounds like a James Bond film, but in fact it is a charming and moving fantasy executed by masters of the genre. The producer-director was George Pal, who also produced “Destination Moon” (1950), “War of the Worlds” (1953), and “When Worlds Collide” (1951). I had the privilege of meeting and talking with Pal just a couple of years before his death. He told me that of all his films this one had most especially been a labor of love. He had gone to Charles Beaumont, one of the three principle scriptwriters for the original “Twilight Zone” television series, and asked him what script he would write if he could choose any subject at all. Beaumont replied that he had always wanted to adapt Charles Finney’s short novel, “The Circus of Dr. Lao,” for the screen. Pal commissioned the script on the spot and directed the picture himself. The story is about a little town in the old West that is dying. Its resources are drying up and its inhabitants are thinking of selling out to a crooked entrepreneur who has neglected to mention the railroad that will soon be built through the town. While they ponder their decision, a strange and wonderful circus comes to town, presided over by an enigmatic Chinaman named Dr. Lao. Tony Randall gives an astonishing performance, not only as Dr. Lao, but also as several of the attractions in his circus, including Merlin the Magician, the Medusa, Pan, and even the Abominable Snowman. Don’t miss this one. It will feed the kids’ imaginations and give them plenty of ideas to chew on without going over their heads. And by all means watch it with them – it offers plenty for grownups to chew on as well. Reproduced below, courtesy of Turner Classic movies, are a few clips from the film, along with excerpts from an interview with Tony Randall.



“Babes in Toyland” (1934). Please note the date on this one. If you pick up the 1961 version you will have missed the boat. The 1934 version of the classic Victor Herbert operetta has two things going for it that no other version can touch: Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. They play the Toymaker’s assistants in a Toyland that is terrorized by a villain named Barnaby and his army of bogeymen. Barnaby tries to force Bo-Peep to marry him until Laurel and Hardy enlist the aid of the wooden soldiers to save the day.

When the Pixar films begin to lose their edge after the hundredth viewing, don’t yield to the temptation to turn your kids’ entertainment over to the tender mercies of the Care Bears. Remember that the corner video store has plenty of worthwhile films to offer them if you’re willing to make a detour to the vintage section.

Hope Endures (originally published 7/03, on the occasion of Bob Hope's death)

After a century of life, most of it spent in show business, Bob Hope left behind a rich and voluminous legacy in the form of books, recordings of radio shows, and videotapes of television programs. Still, for my money, the most enduring monuments to this entertainment giant remain his films. For some reason, perhaps because he continued to do television long after his movie career had ended, people seem to remember him more for his TV work than for his movies, and yet it was on the big screen that he came into his own as more than just a joke machine. In his motion pictures, he emerged as a unique and gifted comic actor.

I can only imagine that the problem lies in the fact that his movies are screened only rarely. The last major theatrical festival of his film work that I’m aware of was way back in May of 1979, a series of screenings at the Film Society of Lincoln Center. In this age of home video, however, there is no excuse for such a distinguished body of work to languish unseen. If you’re looking for an appropriate way to mark the passing of one of the all-time great comic talents, head down to the video store and pick up these titles.

“The Paleface” (1948). Hope’s classic comic Western finds him in a typical role as a wisecracking but likeable frontier dentist. Jane Russell, one of the leading glamour actresses of the 1940s, plays Calamity Jane. Tough as nails and a dead shot, she’s the polar opposite of Hope’s character, who is cowardly and inept. Calamity is sprung from prison by the government in exchange for her promise to find out who has been smuggling guns to the Indians. To give herself a respectable cover from which to operate, she marries Hope’s character and travels west with him. The two played off each other so successfully that a sequel, “Son of Paleface,” was made four years later.

“Road to Morocco” (1942). Beginning in 1940 with “Road to Singapore,” Hope was teamed with Bing Crosby for a memorable series of “Road” pictures. Invariably, they ended up vying for the attention of Dorothy Lamour, who appeared in all the pictures in the series. Actually, you can’t go wrong with any of the “Road” films, but this one happens to be my favorite. It was in this film that the most distinctive element of the series really came to the fore: the occasional acknowledgement by the actors that this is only a movie. For instance, when Crosby interrupts Hope’s hysterics over their hopeless plight to point out that they are safe after all, Hope scolds him for spoiling what might have been an Academy Award-winning performance. This was a running gag with Hope, who continually joked about his failure to win an Oscar. “At my house,” he would lament, “Oscar night is known as Passover.” (Actually, he was awarded five Oscars during the course of his career, although none were for “best actor.”)

“My Favorite Blonde” (1942). Madeleine Carroll plays a British agent who is being pursued by Nazis. Hope is a vaudeville comic who unwittingly gets mixed up in the intrigue by being in the wrong place at the right time. This picture helped to define the comic spy genre that, among other things, influenced the TV series “Moonlighting.” Hope returned to this type of material in 1943 with “They Got Me Covered,” and again in 1947 with “My Favorite Brunette.” Reproduced below, courtesy of Turner Classic Movies, is the film's promotional trailer.



“Louisiana Purchase” (1941). This was the film adaptation of an Irving Berlin musical play that gently poked fun at political corruption in Louisiana during the Huey Long era. Just two years after Jimmy Stewart’s emotionally charged filibuster scene in Frank Capra’s “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” Hope delivers a wonderful comic turn on the idea of a one-man filibuster. In its way, it’s just as much of a classic scene as Stewart’s was.

This is only the beginning. There’s also “The Cat and the Canary” (1939), “Monsieur Beaucaire” (1946), “The Lemon Drop Kid” (1951), “The Seven Little Foys” (1955), and many more. Once you’ve rediscovered what a talented comic actor Hope truly was, I predict you’ll want to see them all. After all, in a world without Hope, we need all the laughs we can get.