cinema obscura: two with don murray

As anyone familiar with this site well knows by now, cinema obscura is a recurring feature devoted to titles that have been underrated, neglected or completely ignored.  Well, there are neglected films and there are those films that are so obscure that no one is even aware of their existence.

Two examples of the latter extreme will be showcased at San Francisco's invaluable Roxie Theater (3117 16th Street) during "A Special Weekend with Don Murray," which was curated by the Roxie's ever-resourceful Elliot Lavine and will screen there the weekend of July 11-13.

First, a little background about Murray, a classically handsome, rugged actor who was nominated for an Oscar for his film debut opposite Marilyn Monroe in Joshua Logan's "Bus Stop" (1956).  Jack Lemmon, who had briefly worked with the director when Logan was brought on to do some backup work on the film of "Mister Roberts" (1955), was a serious contender for the role of Beauregard Decker, the headstrong cowboy in "Bus Stop," but the part went to Murray and it is impossible to image anyone else in the role.

Although Murray did some serious screen acting in the 1950s, particularly in film versions of demanding plays (Michael V. Gazzo's "A Hatful of Rain") and teleplays (Paddy Chayfesky's "The Bachelor Party"), and made two particularly fine Westerns for his home studio, Twentieth Century-Fox (Richard Fleischer's "These Thousand Hills," with Lee Remick, and Henry Hathaway's "From Hell to Texas," with Diane Varsi),  he never quite made the A list, either by design or lack of luck.  Murray (below with Inga Swenson) had a mid-career memorable role as the closeted young Senator Brigham Anderson in Otto Preminger's "Advise and Consent" (1962), but by this time he had branched out as something of an auteur of social-issue films.

He was the driving force behind Irvin Kershner's "The Hoodlum Priest" (1961), which he co-wrote (with Joseph Landon), and Denis Sanders' "One Man's Way" (1964), a biopic of Norman Vincent Peale. Other fascinating projects followed - including Herbert Danska's "Sweet Love, Bitter" (1967, again with Varsi), and Mark Robson's "Happy Birthday, Wanda June" (1971), based on the Kurt Vonnegut play (with a screenplay by Vonnegut) - but Murray seemed to remain a handsome, talented blur in the minds of both critics and moviegoers. Not fair.  He's a strong, impressive actor

The two obscure titles being screened during the Roxie's well-deserved tribute to Murray are "The Confessions of Tom Harris" and "Call Me by My Rightful Name" (both dated 1972), films that Murray made (apparently with friends) but, for reasons not entirely clear, that were never released theatrically or on home entertainment. Information on both is lacking; neither is listed among Murray's credits on IMDb.

The first, "The Confessions of Tom Harris," was in production from 1966 to 1972, with both John Derek and David Nelson listed as its directors.  (Nelson, coincidentally, had worked with Murray's first wife, Hope Lange, on Robson's film of "Peyton Place.")  It is described as "the spiritual awakening of a bad man," with Murray (pictured above in a scene from the film) in the lead role, supported by Linda Evans (Derek's wife at the time) and veteran character actor David Brian.

Much more interesting is "Call Me by My Rightful Name," based on Michael Shurtleff's much-admired 1961 off-Broadway play which was directed on stage by Milton Katselas (who helmed "Butterflies Are Free" on stage and film).  Adapted by Shurtleff from a story by S.F. Pfoutz, the play, lauded for being "honest, moving and courageous," is a race relations story about two men, Columbia students rooming together in New York. Doug is white and rebellious and Paul is black. When the two disagree on their definitions of love, a fight ensues, forcing a young woman, Chris, the object of their disagreement, to referee.

On stage, the stars (pictured above) were Joan Hackett as Chris, Robert Duvall as Doug and, yes, Alvin Ailey (before he became an acclaimed dancer-choreographer) as Paul; Hackett won several acting awards (the Theatre World, Obie and Drama Desk trophies) for her performance.  "An exciting new play by a new American dramatist," New York Newsday reported in its review, adding "The Best off-Broadway play of the year."  The New York Times wrote that "Mr. Shurtleff has the feel of theatre in his blood.  His play is bright, truthful."

Murray reportedly was so taken by "Call Me by My Rightful Name" that he saw it twice and had hoped to film it immediately - in 1962 - with Sidney Poitier starring opposite him.  Scheduling conflicts prevented this and, instead, it took ten years before the play was finally filmed - with Otis Young and Cathy Lee Crosby starring with Murray (all pictured above) and playwright Shurtleff directing his own adaptation.  (Shurtleff, who was also a major casting director, died of lung cancer at age 86 in 2007.)

There are no plans to release "Call Me by My Rightful Name" on DVD, but I for one wish Don Murray would reconsider.  I'd love to see it, if only for the opportunity to watch Murray act again.

Note in Passing: OK, a bit of Don Murray trivia...  As noted, Murray was married for years to Lange, whom he met on "Bus Stop."  After they divorced, Lange married Alan J. Pakula who, at the time, produced films directed by his partner, Robert Mulligan. Anyway, Paklua cast Muarry, his wife's ex, in "Mulligan's "Baby, the Rain Must Fall" (1965).

cinema obscura: George Seaton's "The Proud and the Profane" (1956)

George Seaton's "The Proud and the Profane" (1956), an inexplicably lost movie, is ripe for rediscovery. This unusually angry war-time film has the same scrappy, logical and often blunt ways of its star, William Holden, who deglamorized his leading-man good looks here with a slash of a moustache and closely-cropped crew.

As a Marine commander stationed with his battalion in New Caledonia in 1943, Holden plays his role with a temperamental flair that suits the material, using acting tones that are more impassioned than morose. Holden's character, aptly named Black, is opinionated and judgmental and his latest disapproval is the presence of Red Cross women who minister the soldiers there in assorted ways. One is Lee Ashley - played with her usual brand of ladylike steeliness by Deborah Kerr - a war widow both annoyed with and attracted to Black.

Naturally, she falls in love with him.

While "The Proud and the Profane" has the underpining of a soap opera, it is decidely a harsh soap opera, stubbornly unappeased in its ways. This quality is particularly evident in the supporting work of the invaluable Thelma Ritter as Kerr's Red Cross superior; William Redfield as a battle-shocked Chaplain; Dewey Martin as a young soldier important to Kerr's past, and Peter Hanson as a naval officer who is both the polar opposite of Holden and a potential romantic threat.

"The Proud and the Profane" - based on the fictionized memoir, "The Magnificent Bastards," by Lucy Herndon Crockett - came three years after Fred Zinnemann's Oscar-winner for Columbia, "From Here to Eternity," and it's clear Paramount had thoughts of repeating Columbia's success, hoping perhaps that Kerr, star of both, would be the lucky charm.

indelible moment: Allen's "Manhattan"

Yale & Mary's Academy of the Overrated

There's a scene from the 1979 Woody Allen movie, "Manhattan," in which Isaac Davis (Allen) does his best to put up with an insufferable conversation between his best friend, Yale (Michael Murphy), and Yale's pretentious mistress, Mary Wilke (Diane Keaton). Tracy (Mariel Hemingway), Isaac's teen girlfriend, is a bystander.

The dialogue is by Allen and Marshall Brickman.

Yale: (to Mary) "Gustav Mahler? Hmmm, I think he may be a candidate for the old Academy... " (to Isaac) "...Oh, we've invented the Academy of the Overrated - for such notables as Gustav Mahler..."

Mary: "And Isak Dinesen, Karl Jung."

Yale: "F. Scott Fitzgerald..."

Mary: "Lenny Bruce! We can't forget Lenny Bruce now, can we? And how about Norman Mailer?"

Isaac: (disgusted) "I think those people are all terrific, every one that you've mentioned. What about Mozart? You guys don't want to leave him out. I mean, while you're trashing people..."

Mary: (ignoring him) "Oh! What about Vincent van Gogh? Or Ingmar Bergman?"

Isaac: (outraged by now) "Bergman? Bergman? Bergman is the only genius in cinema today!"

Mary: (finally acknowledging him) "His view is so Scandinavian. It's, it's bleak. My God! Real adolescent! You know, 'fashionable pessimism.' I mean, 'The Silence.' God's silence. I mean, OK, OK! I loved it when I was at Radcliffe but, I mean, OK, you outgrow it. You ab-so-lutely outgrow it..."

Fade out.

gojira

This is the real Godzilla

Against my better judgment, I ventured out to see yet another IMAX 3-D extravaganza - namely, the latest incarnation of "Godzilla."

This one by Indie fave Gareth Edwards.

Given that the "Godzilla" franchise dates back to 1954, I reasoned that this would be surefire. Wrong. What struck me, once again, is how much big money handily dilutes the simple pleasure of moviegoing.

The pre-CGI wonders of "King Kong," "The Wizard of Oz" and the original "Godzilla" (make that "Gojira") may seem amusingly primitive these days but they somehow remain sublimely jaw-dropping in performance.

My initial, most immediate, response to the new "Godzilla" was just how boring it is.  A good half-hour into the film, I still couldn't decipher the hand-wringing rants of the on-screen experts.  The film careens all over the globe, there's a lot of hysterical talk and yet nothing happens.

My second response was how much Edwards managed to make Bryan Cranston, the chief hysteric here, look uncannily like an animé character.

Which, in and of itself, is pretty nifty.

Finally, there's the venerable monster himself (herself?), who doesn't look at all like your great-grandfather's Godzilla but rather like a svelte, giant Praying Mantis. A fashion model almost.  Or is that one of God's cronies that I saw on screen? Naturally, this being a modern horror film, the monster(s) is/are continually shot in shadows and darkness, turning him/her/them into a filtered blur. OK, one final question...

Is it a requisite now that all IMAX 3-D films be completely joyless?

Just asking.

making a case for Logan's "Ensign Pulver"

Guilty pleasure, anyone?

Joshua Logan, who directed "Mister Roberts" on stage and helmed certain uncredited sequences for the John Ford-Mervyn LeRoy 1955 film version, got the bright idea of continuing Thomas Heggen's beloved story by speculating on what happened to Ensign Pulver (the Jack Lemmon character, natch) after Mister Roberts (Henry Fonda) died in combat.

The result was 1964's immediately forgettable but strangely likable "Ensign Pulver" with the Lemmon-esque Robert Walker Jr. (the lookalike son of Robert Walker) assuming the title role.

In this incarnation of the life aboard what Heggen affectionately dubbed "The Bucket," Walter Matthau inherits the William Powell role of Doc and Burl Ives takes over for James Cagney as Captain Morton (a character that was simply billed as "The Captain" in the '55 film).

The plot is negligble, but wait!  Get this incredible supporting cast:

-Kay Medford, always wonderful, this time as a tough head nurse who meets her match in Matthau's Doc.

-Millie Perkins as a young nurse and potential love interest for Ensign Pulver.

-Diana Sands and Al Freeman, Jr., hilarious as two rather worldly south-seas natives.

-Jack Nicholson (yes!), James Coco, Tommy Sands, Jerry Orbach, James Farentino, Larry Hagman, George Lindsey, Gerald O'Loughlin, Peter Marshall and Dick Gautier as assorted sailors on The Bucket.

"Ensign Pulver" is an excellent example of a film that's not especially good but that has a cast that makes it worthwhile.

Case in point: Matthau and Medford,who have impressive comic/sexual chemistry in a ship-to-shore sequence which doesn't even have them in the same frame together. They make a dream team. It's too bad that they never got to make a film in which they sparred face-to-face.

"Ensign Pulver" marked a reunion of sorts for Medford and Gautier, both of whom appeared in the original 1960 Broadway production of "Bye Bye Birdie" - Medford as Mrs. Peterson (Dick Van Dyke's mother) and Gautier as Conrad Birdie.  They were passed over a year earlier by George Sidney for his 1963 film of the musical. Maureen Stapleton (quite good) and Jesse Pearson (quite bad) replaced them in the movie version.

Logan's movie may be negligable, but I will forever appreciate his nimble casting of "Ensign Pulver" - and particularly for correcting Sidney's slight and coming through for both Medford and Gautier.

Note in Passing: Dick Gautier would also be reunited with Dick Van Dyke for Bud Yorkin's astute, hilarious marital comedy, "Divorce, American Style," in which he essays the role of Van Dyke's divorce attorney.