The 1940s List: Discussion and Suggestions (Decade Project Vol. 4)

[Rayon Vert]

Border Incident (Mann 1949). This was written up a little bit up thread by Cold Bishop and others. Yes, on the surface, story-wise, it’s another self-propagandizing government law enforcement agency film, like say The Street with No Name that I revisited the previous week, but even before considering how in the end it’s subversive the film is directed and shot with such style that it feels like a completely different animal (I have a hard time coming up with another film in mind where almost all the scenes take place at night!). Then you’ve got that extra depth with the depiction of the social realities involved with the migrant workers and their exploiters.

That ending feels like a western, and the mountainous terrain evokes the westerns Mann would soon get into.


The Children Are Watching Us (De Sica 1944). It seems useful to appreciate the film’s original power when watching it to keep in mind what one of the essays in the Criterion booklet expresses in terms of the film breaking with “20 years of Fascist pretense”. The child is a focus to a degree, but often he’s used by the filmmakers as a means to observe the complex social reality around him. Our empathy is evoked for the mother’s sincere attempts to resist this love affair and stay with her family, and to some extent also for the father’s frustrations and devastation. It’s not overly sentimental apart maybe from a few close-up shots of the child in tears, and there’s a simple elegance in the way it’s shot.



Pride and Prejudice (Leonard 1940). The acting isn’t always what it could be, especially in the early parts, and the characterizations are a trifle too caricatured sometimes, but these are minor flaws. Overall this is a very fine and smart adaptation of a sophisticated adult novel (Aldous Huxley is one of the two screenplay authors), and it benefits from being extremely well cast. Olivier and Garson are completely natural, perfect fits for the roles of Darcy and Elizabeth.

[therewillbeblus]

Mrs. Miniver: A great film and worthy predecessor to Wyler’s masterpiece The Best Years of Our Lives a few years later. While that film presented the milieu and effects of post-WWII recovery and re-integration by examining a few different lives with a humanist sensitivity, this does the same to a family in the midst of the war. Wyler paints a melodrama that is easy to buy because he isn’t trying to sell. The characters are multi-dimensional, their actions appropriate and respectful to the characters given what we know, and the ironic moments fitting to how life happens. In other hands this could be manipulative, but Wyler takes his time to show care for his story and the people in it. A lock for my list.

They Made Me a Fugitive: I didn’t like this as much as many on this board and elsewhere, but it had a solid dose of darkness for the noir genre, with a great final action setpiece and one of the more realistic-cynical endings of a movie in this decade, which is always an appreciated surprise for this era (The 7th Victim takes the cake, and will place near the very top of my list, though enough people on this board have dissected that to death in the best possible ways, there’s nothing I could possibly, or want to, add!)

The More the Merrier: A much more engaging film than I was anticipating, with three great performances from characters I was invested in from the start. Charles Coburn is always terrific, Joel McCrea reliable, and Jean Arthur gives a speech near the end that I had to rewind a few times to fully digest the nuance of her perf. The Devil and Miss Jones was a very welcome discovery for the screwball list project, and while that one may not make the cut, this likely will.

Kind Hearts and Coronets: The overwhelming love for this one has always baffled me despite many attempts to “get” what the fuss is all about. However, every time I watch it I feel like I notice something new that boosts its value. A perfect example of a film that has enough going for it- if nothing else, the cheeky way the story is filtered through our narrator begs attention to detail and snowballing analysis- that repeat viewings may actually change my opinion drastically over time. Perhaps I’ll give it another go before submitting my list- it could wind up knocking me off my feet this time for all I know: and while right now it’s not on the list, this almost deserves a spot for its ability to elicit such intense cognitive and emotional responses over its worth.

Heaven Can Wait: A perfect film, or if not I don’t know what it is. Right up there with the best of an already powerful genre I admittedly romanticize a bit more than the average Joe (man reflects on life, existential penetration ensues), and sits comfortably in my top 3 Lubitsch’s (including To Be Or Not To Be, a lock for a top spot in this list) though I’ve admittedly got more blind spots for him than I wish I did. Does anyone have other favorites from the decade? I’ll certainly be picking up Cluny Brown when Criterion releases it.

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir: Mankiewicz never ceases to amaze with his talents in the director’s chair, but rarely have I been so floored by his style so quickly. His use of shadows, delicate camera movement, and pacing throughout the first half hour had me all ready to call this one of the best films I’d ever seen, and Hitchcock comparisons were preoccupying my thoughts with every passing second. By the end I had calmed down a bit regarding the film’s hyperbolic merits, but this was still a treat on so many levels: acting, story, technical prowess, etc. and the overall vibe is the primary reason this will score so highly for me: just a pleasure to watch Mankiewicz execute what feels like perfect direction for the period. I liked A Letter to Three Wives both times I’ve seen it, but despite admiration I can’t say it has enough steam to make my list. Somewhere in the Night is in for its originality and craftsmanship via moody, psychological offbeat noir style. I still need to see Dragonwyck (thank you Indicator) and the others from the 40s, if anyone has any particular recs of the blind spots left.

[domino harvey]

I quite enjoy Mankiewicz’ the Late George Apley. Something about a warm study of the decaying generational shift resonates in this aging 90s kid! You can prob skip his other film with Peggy Cummins, Escape, though. House of Strangers is pretty good, but Dmytryk’s western remake Broken Lance is surprisingly even better (not eligible for this list)

A Royal Scandal is Lubitsch in everything but credit due to Preminger stepping in to bail it out. It’s a laugh riot, and thankfully its reputation has improved of late, so others are finally coming around to it.

The Ghost and Mrs Muir has one of the most effective and moving romantic endings of all time. They Made Me a Fugitive leaves me cold too, despite some very fervent cheerleaders and boosters on the forum. Mrs Miniver and Heaven Can Wait are in my own top 10, so, yep, right on.

[Rayon Vert]

Heaven Can Wait: A perfect film, or if not I don’t know what it is. Right up there with the best of an already powerful genre I admittedly romanticize a bit more than the average Joe (man reflects on life, existential penetration ensues), and sits comfortably in my top 3 Lubitsch’s (including To Be Or Not To Be, a lock for a top spot in this list) though I’ve admittedly got more blind spots for him than I wish I did. Does anyone have other favorites from the decade? I’ll certainly be picking up Cluny Brown when Criterion releases it.

I'll be revisiting it, but The Shop Around the Corner is my favorite of his in the 40s. Cluny Brown I was surprised Criterion selected to release and it's not in the league of these other 3 films IMO.

[HinkyDinkyTruesmith]

While I love all of the Lubitsch films mentioned (and got to see Heaven Can Wait in 35mm), Cluny Brown is firmly my favorite of his 40s work (and second only to Angel overall). I'm always disappointed to see others undervalue it, for while it lacks the modernist virtues of Trouble in Paradise or Angel, I believe it to be as human and touching as The Shop Around the Corner and as hilarious and scathing as To Be or Not to Be. And, of course, done with as light a touch as Heaven Can Wait. It's sort of like a slightly more farcical Henry Green novel on celluloid. I'd like to watch it again before doing a full write-up, I certainly hope Criterion releases it soon! As for now, it's got squatter's rights to my top three.

[nitin]

Yeah out of 40s Lubitsch, it’s hard to go past The Shop Around the Corner and To Be or Not to Be

[schellenbergk]

...Cluny Brown is firmly my favorite of his 40s work . . . It's sort of like a slightly more farcical Henry Green novel on celluloid. I'd like to watch it again before doing a full write-up, I certainly hope Criterion releases it soon!

Wow - I am definitely going to have to make more of an effort to see it - I haven't yet. But comparing it to Henry Green - one of my very favorite novelists of all time - seals the deal! Thanks.

K

[therewillbeblus]

Thanks for the recs! The Shop Around the Corner definitely warrants another viewing as I’ve only seen it once, but wasn’t including it in that top 3. However I might need to bump one of those out anyway since I took domino’s advice and watched A Royal Scandal tonight and this might be the most consistently humorous of his films that I’ve seen. Lubitsch continues to demonstrate his signature style, dropping laughs and pacing them out with charm and exuberance - though he shows less restraint through portions of this by stacking those funny moments, dousing them in that charm, and pumping it all out a mile a minute. The result isn’t the least bit sloppy but rather a Lubitsch film on steroids. I loved every moment of this and it’s definitely one that I’ll watch again towards the end of the project to see where it places with some time, but right now I’m carried away and it’s soaring with the old favorites at the top.

[Rayon Vert]

Ramrod (De Toth 1947). The director makes this fairly gritty western even stronger and more modern by shooting all outdoor scenes (which is most of the film) in actual exteriors, with perhaps a few studio shots saved for night shooting. Strong acting gives it vitality and also makes the film more than worthwhile, but at the same time it never approaches the outstanding level.


Brute Force (Dassin 1947). Not a perfect film but a lot to enjoy here, right off the bat with that hyper-dramatic tone, the Rozsa score and those delightfully atmospheric visuals. There’s a stylistically potent expressionistic streak that runs throughout, especially in the acting and camera framings. Screenplay-wise, though, those vignette flashbacks of the main inmates’ lives tend to disperse the narrative thrust and suspense. Cronyn’s character almost makes this a Universal monster horror movie.


A Double Life (Cukor 1947). Another Rozsa-flavored Universal horror film in disguise. Ronald Colman plays a successful stage actor whose propensity to take on the lives of his characters creates danger when he decides to take on Othello. I didn’t remember this one very well. Not the most believable storyline by today’s standards but it’s executed with panache in all its aspects, plus there’s a thoughtful meditation on the life of the actor. Love those scenes with Shelley Winters as the easy waitress. Recommended film if you haven’t seen it.


Lumière d’été (Grémillon 1943). There’s a quasi-fantastic/fairy tale quality to this film even as it’s rooted in a strong class consciousness, including the setting of that baroque hotel and castle amidst the stark natural environment. The similarities with The Rules of the Games are definitely there, especially with that ball at the end. Wonderfully-written characters and relationships contribute a lot to make this a delight.


The Third Man (Reed 1949). Not much to add here to such a well-known and beloved film. The thing that struck me most during this rewatch, right from the start with those initial images and montage, was just how incredibly gorgeous this film is. Strong as it is, the screenplay isn’t so much what makes the films as the mise-en-scène and cinematography throughout.

[HJackson]

I enjoyed Negulesco's Deep Valley despite the crappy Warner Archives presentation. Blind bought it because of its appearance on the extended TSPDT Noir list - I don't know if it fits the bill as a noir, but it's an engaging Romantic meoldrama with a cracking first act that climaxes on a sublimely unashamed, elemental note. There's a definite lull at the start of the second act as the film settles into a more predictable fugitive romance between Lupino and Dane Clark, but the sudden rehabilitation of Lupino's father - which initially appears risible - ends up opening an interesting avenue of social critique as he retains the same basic violent pathology through his transition from an isolated abusive patriarch to a chirpy local farmer, gleefully helping out the local posse. The basic decency of the Wayne Morris character by contrast stops the film from feeling didactic or overly black-and-white. Max Steiner's score isn't memorable but it lends the film a real sense of gravity.

Hoping I can get a few more Negulesco flicks from this decade under my belt before the list is up. This one comes off the back of the magnificent Nobody Lives Forever and Humoresque - all three of which have a shot at cracking the tail end of my final list here.

[domino harvey]

Johnny Belinda's his best from this decade, I think, so hopefully you're able to catch up with it (though I'm not sure if it will make my list). Great supporting turn from the always reliable Charles Bickford too

[Rayon Vert]

Murder, My Sweet (Dmytryk 1944). All the elements are here to make up one of the first true noirs. A good enough film, although it’s never remarkable in any way, and comparing it to The Big Sleep does it no favor, although this one’s plot is almost as complicated. Claire Trevor is enjoyable though, as per her usual.


They Live by Night (Ray 1948). The director really had a confident touch the first time out. I’m a big fan of the Altman film, which doesn’t make the young couple quite as central (and which I’m guessing is probably closer to the source novel in that way?). This makes for an odd mix between a crime noir and a social outcasts teen lovers’ romantic drama, with the former element not all that interesting but the latter less conventional and definitely filled with moments of great elegance, sensitivity and sensuality. O’Donnell’s Cathy really is a stunning, convincing performance and gives the film its depth.


Kiss of Death (Hathaway 1947). Nothing groundbreaking in this noir, but it’s one of my favorites from this decade. A strong screenplay (with Hecht and Lederer at the helm), with steady direction, and fine photography and acting. Widmark’s Tommy Udo is quite the memorable psychopath character, but his slight cartoonishness doesn’t undo the realism of the film, or the sense of menace and suspense that’s created. Victor Mature’s character, and his life situation with his young kids and new girlfriend, helped by the non-studio exterior locales used, helps ground the film in both a sense of reality and of emotional resonance.



Northwest Passage (Vidor 1940). This makes a good companion to Drums Along the Mohawk. It’s the Seven Years War and Rogers’ Rangers head an expedition into the Lake Champlain and current Quebec area to destroy an Indian tribe (the title doesn’t match the content, as it pertains more to a Part 2 that never happened). It starts off looking like it’s going to be a rather stiff MGM adventure picture but winds up being an ultra-gritty, quasi-Platoon of its era as it depicts the unrelenting misery of surviving in this wilderness, truly merciless and gruesome killing – especially on the part of the Rangers in terms of what’s shown onscreen (I have a hard time thinking of horrific scenes to compare in other films of this time) –, and trauma. There are a few stagey studio shots, but most of the time this is filmed on evocative location (actually Idaho, but you could have fooled me), and Vidor’s eye isn’t as painterly as Ford’s but the camera movement is sometimes impressive, especially during the battle (or massacre?) scene. The screenplay isn’t good enough to make this a really great film, and you have to stomach some pretty racist content, but it’s definitely worth seeing.


For Me and My Gal (Berkeley 1942). A not-too-original plot revolving around vaudeville performers in 1916-18 trying to make it and falling in love in the process. This is still solid fun for the most part though, with a terrific Judy Garland in her first adult role and a Gene Kelly also memorable in his debut. A few vital performances, like Ballin’ the Jack, and those that make up the crescendo ending medley typical of Berkeley’s contemporaneous Garland-Rooney films. What makes this more interesting beyond the performances is that the setting with a call to join the American involvement in the European war and defeat the Kaiser is clearly calling attention to the contemporary context.


A Canterbury Tale (P & P 1944). The Archers’ run of films right through 1950 must rank near the top in terms of a long series of consecutive films that are both unique and so accomplished. What better way to promote patriotism than to nurture the spirit of the specifically English numinous. Powell’s roots and attachment to the land are most on display in this film, a mixture of fantasy and reality like most P&P films that deals enchantingly with notions of discovery and the magic behind the real, and like its predecessor Blimp is a poetic meditation on time. It’s a film that I find suffers just a little bit, occasionally, from the looseness of its narrative and rhythm, so that I don’t rate it quite as highly as a few of the other films - even though that dreaminess is part of its charm -, but it succeeds tremendously on the level of its visuals, atmosphere and tone. I’d love to see this restored and upgraded.

[knives]

Somewhere in the Night (dir. Mankiewicz)
While the central mystery is as plain as day this is such an exciting and mysterious movie that even for someone resistant to noir like myself it forces a love. Mank takes the central trauma of the war and expands upon it in a way more akin to the lost generation than what is the norm for this one. The mind is so disgusted with the past that is becomes pushed off until you are a new man. As much as Fitzgerald this reminds me also of Lost Highway or even Scanners where the pain of the evil on your hands turns you into an entirely new person.

Yolanda and the Thief (dir. Minnelli)
This is a strange bird and not necessarily in a good way. It's a really bizarre and gaudy film whose colour overwhelms everything in an unpleasant green. It's easy to see how the film could have been good, but the existing version is just weird. For example there's this seven minute prologue before Astaire is introduced that only serves to make the film incoherent. A removal of it would improve the film significantly. More drastically though is replacing Bremer with an actress who could convey intelligence or something. Throughout the film she has this same rounded look of confusion on her face that just does not work. Maybe if as with other romance con jobs she conveyed some hint of knowing she was the mark that could make the film compelling instead uncomfortable.

Reap the Wild Wind (dir. DeMille)
Pretty similar to Unconquered, but not nearly as fun. Milland in particular overstays his welcome as a violent, foppish, bore. Wayne's surprisingly fun though and Goddard's quality of pratfall continues to be impressive for me.

[Rayon Vert]

The Winslow Boy (Asquith 1948). During the Edwardian age, a family challenges the legal principle of the right to sue the king, following a naval college’s refusal to reconsider their decision of expelling their young son on a wrongful charge of theft. Not an especially thrilling script but a solid and engaging film nevertheless, principally because of the terrific performances, especially by Cedric Hardwicke as the father, Kathleen Harrison as the oldest daughter who assists him, and Robert Donat as the seemingly indifferent barrister working on their behalf.


To Be or Not to Be (Lubitsch 1942). Besides being daring and creative, and rather different fare than the director’s more straightforward infidelity tales, it’s impressive how witty and smart this is despite being based mostly on the conventional device of mistaken identities. Some moments of real suspense and drama are also worked in even though it’s a fairly broad comedy. (When we see “Concentration Camp” Ehrhardt’s appointment book, right under Maria Tura’s name is a prominent “Schindler”. Was this the self-same Oskar?)


Body and Soul (Rossen 1947). An extremely well-made sports noir. The writing, acting and photography (Wong Howe) are all absolutely top notch, and this great boxing film hits hard in its sociopolitical angle. John Garfield’s performance is terrific, but equally so is Lilli Palmer as his devoted but morally righteous lover. Her character is really a fully fleshed, three-dimensional person that adds a lot of depth to the film. Really an intelligent piece of work.


Whisky Galore! (Mackendrick 1949). The joke could get stale but it manages to be a charming small piece, benefitting from the location shoot and a strong set of actors and characters.


The Major and the Minor (Wilder 1942). It’s not laugh-out loud funny but for me this is consistently smart and delightful except maybe for the last reel where it falters a bit during the slightly more serious resolution (not to mention that the ending is rushed). I noticed more this time the several references to the U.S. about to join the war, and also, from today’s standpoint, the somewhat disturbing rapey men and boys’ behavior at several points. Both Rogers and Milland are really good. It’s the director’s debut but for me there are only two to three others of his I prefer, albeit a couple of them quite substantially.


T-Men (Mann 1947). I didn’t remember this at all and it impressed me. The fact that it’s another procedural/propaganda piece for the government authorities, complete with semi-documentary narration, doesn’t dent its realism and grittiness. It’s tense and the actors are very effective. I know the Alton photography is well-recognized but the blu-ray really brings out how truly beautiful this thing is.


The Small Back Room (P & P 1949). I hadn’t seen this in ten years and mostly remembered it as an eccentric piece, which it is but when I think about it all of the Archers’ films are. I’m still not completely sure what they were after here, it’s quite a strange brew, but I did find myself quite taken by its visual style and its hypnotic, insular charm, and the way the filmmakers take their time with the scenes, not all that concerned with plot. An interesting damaged character to get absorbed in as well.


Pattes blanches (Grémillon 1949). It’s completely its own film but the similarities with Lumière d’été are nevertheless striking: an inn and a castle, class envy, desire fueling destructive passions, and again a hard-edged realism with a touch of the fairy tale or fable. This is a lot grimmer, though, and it’s initially hard to surmount the antipathy evoked by most of the characters.

[nitin]

The Small Back Room is another excellent film from the Archers IMHO, the character interaction really is first rate and the main relationship is much more nuanced than others from that period.

The Rossen is also very underrated and apart from all the other qualities you mentioned, the screenplay by Polonsky is probably the key ingredient.

[Rayon Vert]

Yellow Sky (Wellman 1948). The film starts with a wink at The Ox-Bow Incident by having the characters gather in the same saloon as the beginning of the earlier film, with the same bartender, and looking and commenting on another sexy painting behind the bar. Offhand I can’t think of too many westerns where you spend so much time with such despicable characters (I was grateful for that moment of humanity when some of the men react with anger towards one of the gang who shoots a lizard for no good reason). But otherwise, after that long journey across the desert sets an impressive enough tone, the rest of the film never really lives up to that promise. A competent enough film with pleasurable sequences but it never threatens to go beyond that. And yet this is one of the better westerns I’ve seen from this decade; it’s hard to think of many really good ones beyond Red River and the Fords.


The Way to the Stars (Asquith 1945). The love lives of RAF pilots, and their U.S. colleagues, during the war. I’d given this a good rating but didn’t remember it one bit. As with The Winslow Boy, also written by Terence Rattigan, a terrific set of actors here, with the ladies, Asherson and Rosamund Jones, especially noteworthy. The film takes a while to get going but it turns into something quite charming, more special overall than the later picture.


Quai des Orfèvres (Clouzot 1947). I didn’t remember this to be quite so delightful - the new blu certainly helps to give it its due. The frequent Hitchcock comparisons with Clouzot are definitely apt here, since we’re dealing with a “wrong man” scenario, and the film is also laced with humor that nevertheless never threatens the drama. Suzy Delair plays her usual sexually promiscuous character but she’s good-hearted and likeable as are all characters here, despite their flaws. When Jouvet eventually makes his entrance as Inspector Antoine, he adds to a film that’s already fully stocked in quality actors and characters. The witty use of the songs and musical numbers highlights the general intelligence of the direction.


Key Largo (Huston 1948). Huston’s recent enough war experience definitely washes over his reworking of the source material and how much it defines the film's spirit. There’s something also a little akin to the arc that Casablanca’s Rick follows in Frank McCloud, although the soldier is a lot less cynical to begin with. This isn’t in the same class as The Maltese Falcon or Sierra Madre, and it suffers just a little from the staginess of its theatrical origins, but it’s more than decent. There’s plenty to like in the atmosphere and in watching these older actors and the meditation over the changes in the U.S. over the last two decades.

[dustybooks]

I really love the Inspector Antoine character and really miss him in the third act of Diabolique when that film’s significantly more irritating detective shows up...

[Rayon Vert]

Since it's a wrong man scenario, and since the person found murdered anyway was loathsome, our sympathies tend to go with the characters harassed by the law. Delair's character Jenny does have a moment where she confronts the Inspector about the senselessness of the authorities' purposes in this way, bringing these points up. So initially when Jouvet/Antoine comes in, we're less inclined to side with him, but the actor and the script manage to navigate a delicate balance so that he too in the end becomes a sympathetic figure (the film highlighting that he has a son, plainly adopted, seems to serve this function). That last friendly scene between Antoine and the Jenny & Maurice couple feels just a bit slightly forced in order to bring some harmony and tame the narrative's somewhat law-unabiding spirit.

[nitin]

Re westerns from the 40s, agree that apart from the Fords and The Ox Bow Indcident and Red River, it is indeed slim picking but Raoul Walsh’s three are well worth watching.

[MongooseCmr]

I cannot abide this Canyon Passage erasure.

[Rayon Vert]

I wrote "it's hard to think of many really good ones..."

[therewillbeblus]

I’ll have to rewatch it again before this project is over as it’s been years since I’ve seen it, but I recall really enjoying Robert Wise’s Blood on the Moon.

[Rayon Vert]

I recall really enjoying Robert Wise’s Blood on the Moon.

Scorsese just put this on his "alternative list" sent to the La Cinetek. See the Cinetek thread. I've never seen it.

[domino harvey]

I watched it for the Noir List a while back. I don’t share Scorsese or therewillbeblus’ enthusiasm, but that’s good company to be in if you do!

Blood on the Moon (Robert Wise 1948) Yes, it's shadowy, but otherwise this is far more a traditional western than a "western noir." That's not a criticism but an observation. Robert Mitchum (with long hair!) is great as the lead, caught between warring cattle herders and govt stooges in an elaborate scheme of double-crossing trickery. Perhaps the complicated complications are what renders this a noir to some? As it stands, this is a fine, if unexceptional western

[knives]

The Human Comedy (dir. Brown)
At it's best this is an intensely effective feature showing how difficult the homefront was in a way that still retains hope thanks to the naivety at its center. At its worst it is overly maudlin hitting at easy emotional targets. These bad moments, fortunately, are pretty much stuck to the youngest brother with all of Rooney's scenes delivering the right mark.

Rooney deserves a special word with this easily being the best child performance I've seen from him. Usually MGM left him to be an obnoxious knowitall. There his natural intelligence often gets in the way. Here he plays pretty much a David Lynch hero. A little naive in the face of evil, the war, perhaps a little arrogant, but ultimately sweet natured and aiming for good. Rooney captures this so well it makes it all the more infuriating he got stuck with so many terrible parts elsewhere. When balanced by Morgan's drunkard boss the film reaches a pitch that goes beyond propaganda into an ancient dialogue of how to handle the bad we see.

Returning to the maudlin aspects the film does manage to save a few of these moments with the right wrench. For example the whole sequence with the teacher starts off disgustingly sentimental with her speech, but then her point gets undermined in the most blatant way, I wonder how twitter liberals would react to that scene, and then it follows through an expected success. Everything around this break is too sweet for its own good, but the coach provides enough a bitter taste to elevate the whole sequence to something at least interesting.

Running back to Lynch it's amazing how Lynch (and Bogdanovich) is in this. While always being optimistic this this eerie undercurrent of offscreen violence hinted at. This is most explicit with the baby brother's adventures with the dyslexic friend, but throughout there's this sadness that is shown in a face of happiness which develops a tension. The sequence with Bill Nelson is a pretty good example of this. It easily could have have come from The Last Picture Show as these five young people try to do the very ordinary ritual of the date, but it's all muddled up by the war with the goal being friendship and not sex. Eventually it ends in an uncomfortably funny way as the sadness of separation becomes the foundation for this small moment.

Kitty Foyle (dir. Wood)
This is such a fun film that the fact it doesn't really succeed at its aims is only a minor disappointment. It's certainly not the best Wood, even of the year, but he drives it so slickly and so in tune with Rogers that there is not a moment lacking in sheer pleasure. So, perhaps, it bit off more than it could chew in presenting the modern woman, though I do love the opening sequence, and can't give Foyle her full agency. It at least is entertaining in that striving.

The Gang's All Here (dir. Berkeley)
This seems weirdly forward thinking and old school at the same time. The basic structure as a musical has a clear thorough line with Berkeley's '30s work, but at the same time the way Carmen Miranda is used must have been a massive influence on Bob Fosse as she comes to obliquely comment on the action. Though this technicolour whirlwind is a lot more fun. I mean, do I have to say anything beyond Eugene Pallette and EE Horton mucking about to sell this?