We're now on Day 18 of The Construction Nightmare From Hell. I may not live to see the end of it. I walked down to Northridge Libe at 2:30 to escape the noise, and wrote more of my remembrance for Pearl. Her service is Saturday morning. The only peace of mind I have is when I'm away from this building. I know that no one has ever commented on one of my blogs, but if you're reading and have a place to rent please tell me. I literally won't make it through another year in this hellhole. Really I'd like to share a house if anyone is interested. I'll be 62 next year - officially a Senior Citizen - and I'm too old to be living in a college student building.
Would anyone consider moving out of state with me? That's an option too, as California becomes unaffordable, but I would never do it by myself. I know no one elsewhere, and it would be far too scary.
Having lost everything in my life in one fell swoop, my best friend and everyday companion, my job, and the house I was mostly living in, I feel plunged into the depths of Hell. I know it could be worse. Look at poor Richie Faulkner, who was shredding on stage with Judas Priest one night, then undergoing major heart surgery the next morning. ////
"Finger Man" was last night's movie. A tricky title, I know, but this flick was made in 1955, before innuendo was commonplace, and here it refers to an ex-con who's pressured by the Feds to help them capture a mob boss. He's gonna "put the finger" on the guy if he doesn't get killed first. Two Big Thumbs.
Another recent movie is "The Clouded Yellow"(1950), a murder mystery starring Trevor Howard as a British Intelligence agent who gets canned after screwing up a mission. Looking for work, he takes the unusual job of cataloging butterflies on a collector's estate. It's all he qualifies for, having no official work history as a classified Secret Agent, but it suits him because after that career, he's looking for peace of mind.
At the estate, he falls for the niece of the butterfly collector. She's said to be disturbed after witnessing the death of her parents, which she can't remember, but Howard thinks she's being gaslighted. He decides to extricate her from the situation and, using his Intelligence skills, he protects her from pursuers as they make a mad dash across the English countryside. The climax takes place at the Liverpool docks, in a Hitchcockian bit of flair. The plot is resolved in muddled fashion, but everything else is great. Two Big Thumbs Up.
Tonight's film was "Dear Murderer"(1947), an old school British noir, meaning suave rather than hard boiled, much like a picture from Hollywood's Golden Age. Eric Portman stars as a man out to do away with his wife's two lovers. He kills one and makes it look like the other one did it. Now that's an original plot angle. The story is very talky and the action minimal, and much is revealed by exposition, but Portman is just so smooth as the husband that the movie flows through his performance. Greta Gynt as his wife may one-up him, if the coppers at Scotland Yard are slacking. They never slack off though, do they? Two Big Thumbs Up for this film as well.
The last full length review I wrote was on the night before Pearl passed away. The movie has an unfortunate title, considering the timing, but I present it now just for something to read.
This review was written the night of September 18th, 2021 :
Well, you can't win 'em all. I chose "Date with Death"(1959) because of it's IMDB rating (6.6) and it's running time (75 min.). In addition, it starred Gerald "Less Is" Mohr, who - when he's not smirking - is usually pretty capable in an ersatz Bogart way. 1959 was also a vintage year for B-Grade Noir. The only trouble is that this flick isn't B-grade or even C. It's D-Minus if you're being generous, and I mean holy smokes folks, how often do I bag a film before I even review it?
The synopsis sounded interesting, another reason I chose it. A hobo (Mohr), riding a train through the desert, is kicked off in the middle of nowhere by a railroad bull. Following the tracks, he wanders in the direction of the next town, and comes across a car parked askew off the side of a highway.
Figuring he'll try to steal it, Mohr does the old Pointed Finger In The Pocket trick, to make the driver think he has a gun. The only problem is the driver is dead. He's been murdelized. Mohr checks the guy's wallet, finds a police badge, and the next thing you know he's impersonating the man in full, wearing his suit, driving his car and carrying his badge.
This comes in handy when, a short while later, he's pulled over by a pair of motorcycle cops. Once Mohr flashes his badge, they know who he is. "Follow me back to the station", says one of the officers.
Now then, Dear Readers : are you ready to suspend disbelief? If not, read no further. At the station, Mohr gets out of his car and follows the two cops inside. He's already sauntering, which is not a good sign. If Mohr gives up this early and starts playing himself, the movie's doomed. The officers lead him to a back office, where several officials are waiting, including the local mayor and a police lieutenant, the current Acting Chief.
With no further ado, the following happens :
"Please place your hand on this bible", says the mayor. After a quick oath, Mohr is sworn in as the new chief of police.
No one notices that anything is awry. No one notices that Mohr is swaggering and acting smug. The assembled are just hicks, grateful that he's "arrived from New York", an experienced chief, tough on crime, successful in cracking down on Mobsters.
Right away, you can tell that this is one of those independent movies where "some guy with twenty five thousand bucks" who fancied himself a filmmaker, got together a crew, found a free location in the boondocks, and used half his loot to hire a "star", in this case the probably-down-on-his-luck-by-this-point Mohr, who looks so bored early on that he must've asked for a vacation before finishing the picture.
A woman named Liz Renay plays a nightclub singer. She was a sometime actress (John Waters' "Desperate Living"), and the former girlfriend of real life hoodlum Mickey Cohen. The first thing Mohr does is release her from jail. As the new Police Chief Who Nobody Suspects Is an Impostor, he's supposed to be there to clean up the town, to free it from mob influence, and so why is he releasing the main Mobster's moll?
Most of the actors are non-professional and......wait, let me qualify that, because we've seen non-professional actors who can act, at least enough to pass. Here, let's call 'em the reverse - professional non-actors, because they are pros at not acting. "Stiff" don't even cut it, and then there's Mohr.
You'd be hard pressed to make a worse movie than "Date With Death", and when Gerald Mohr's bad, he's the worst actor in the world. Here, he looks pissed off at one point, not in character but as himself, as if he can't believe he signed on for this garbage and just wants the scene to wrap up so he can slam a drink.
If you aren't already acquainted with Mohr, I suggest you check out a few of his other films before watching this one, so you can see what his trip is. You've heard of people thinking they're "all that"? He's the king of All That. No one who ever lived is mohr impressed with himself than Gerald Mohr, except that he's just a smidge too jaded, or maybe distracted because he wants that drink, to be truly narcissistic. He thinks - knows! - he's all that, but he's also somehow pissed about it. Don't ask me why, just watch his "performances". Two Gigantic Thumbs Down. ////
So there you have it, a few films and the state of my life right now. I feel like I'm living out a strange fable, yet if you'd asked me just three weeks ago, I'd have said things couldn't be better. Again, if you read this blog on a regular basis (or even just this installment), please consider offering a comment. I realise it's uncool to acknowledge your presence, but this is an extremely hard time for me, and a little company would go a long way to regaining my balance.
Thanks for reading. See you in the morning. I send you tons of love as always. xoxoxoxoxoxo :):)
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