Wednesday, November 24, 2010


With Thanksgiving looming on the horizon,  my head has been filled with visions of food...and film.

When the weather turned cooler a couple of weeks ago and Now, Voyager happened to be scheduled on TCM, I started thinking about my favorite recipe for gingerbread...and how a steaming cup of hot cocoa would go so well with a thick slice of gingerbread and that magnificent Bette Davis melodrama.

Last weekend, M.F.K. Fisher’s  “strengthening prescription” from her book, Alphabet for Gourmets, found its way into my thoughts. Fisher, considered the doyenne of American culinary writers during her lifetime, was also a screenwriter for Paramount Pictures in 1942, and this seemed to me to add to the rightness of pairing her simple menu (from the chapter "M is for Monastic") with a movie.

Her "Monastic Supper" was designed with the person alone in mind. I began to think of films one might watch alone and, even better, movies about loners.  Of course, film noir fills that bill. Something like Jules Dassin’s Night and the City (1950), with Richard Widmark scheming his way from small-time to big-time hood…or Robert Siodmak’s The Killers (1946), with Burt Lancaster as the anguished victim of Ava Gardner’s dazzling charms…

And yet, considering the actual fare (adapted  by me) -

One small loaf of crusty sourdough or French bread
One chunk of Gorgonzola or Bleu Cheese
One bottle of Chianti or (my suggestion) Zinfandel or its alter-ego, Primitivo

-  I couldn’t help but think of The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám and that famous phrase, “a jug of wine, a loaf of bread – and thou.”  Clearly M.FK. Fisher’s “Monastic Supper” could also be applied to on and off-screen togetherness.

A jug of wine, a loaf of bread (with cheese) and thou would work well with...Michael Curtiz's Casablanca (1942), that most beloved of all WWII romances starring memorably paired Bogart and Bergman…or Jean Cocteau’s unforgettably poetic, La belle et la bête (1946), “one of the screen’s great erotic tales” (Movieline Magazine) – no subtitles necessary!

I could go on, but will save more for another day...meanwhile, I'm open to suggestions.


Saturday, November 20, 2010

It is turn-of-the-century Vienna, the wee hours of a wet night. A man alights from a horse-drawn carriage and jokes with companions about the duel at dawn to which he has been challenged. Entering his flat alone he tells his manservant he will leave before morning, "Honor is a luxury only gentlemen can afford." But the mute servant indicates a letter awaiting him and, as he prepares for his departure, the man opens it and begins to read...
"By the time you read this letter, I may be dead," it says, and the voice of a woman, the letter writer, begins to narrate her story.  Her tale unfolds in flashback as the man immerses himself in the letter.

Letter From an Unknown Woman tells of Lisa Berndle (Joan Fontaine) who, as an adolescent, becomes enthralled with up-and-coming concert pianist Stefan Brand (Louis Jourdan) when he moves into the building where she lives with her parents. Though the suave virtuoso is unaware of her, Lisa privately harbors a fantasy that they are destined to be together. Many years later their moment does come, but it is brief, Stefan is soon gone and Lisa is left with something more than her memories of him. Eventually she marries a wealthy man and years go by before, by chance, she and Stefan meet again. His has been a self-indulgent life and his career has failed, but Lisa is unable to resist and goes to him again in spite of an ultimatum from her husband. It is only then that she understands Stefan's true character. As Stefan, who has been sincerely moved by Lisa's story, comes to the end of her letter, he notices an official stamp on the last page and realizes its significance. By this time dawn has come and he makes another fateful decision.

The storyline may be melodrama, but this  lyrical, dream-weaving film is a keen reflection on love, illusion and human nature.
As the film moves from present to past to present again, it becomes clear that both Lisa and Stefan have lived lives steeped in unreality; Lisa by holding fast to her idealized vision of Stefan, and Stefan by relentlessly seeking his romantic ideal night to night. John, Stefan's mute valet, perhaps mirroring director Max Ophuls' viewpoint, observes the all-too-human folly around him and serves as a silent, compassionate witness.
Ophuls, known for his bold and graceful camera movement and use of extended takes, shapes Letter From an Unknown Woman with both sophistication and a light touch. Visually and structurally fluid throughout, the film seems to turn in elegant circles from beginning to end, subtly evoking themes enhanced rather than obscured by its glittering surface.

Produced by actor/producer John Houseman, screenplay by Howard Koch (Casablanca), cinematography by Franz Planer (Roman Holiday), edited by Ted Kent, with original music by Daniele Amfitheatrof (Song of the South) and gowns by Travis Banton. As characters undone by desire, both Joan Fontaine and Louis Jourdan achieve moving eloquence.

Monday, November 15, 2010



Although Vincente Minnelli's 1945 musical Yolanda and the Thief is not one of his or Fred Astaire's most popular films, it contains a jewel of a musical number that has earned raves from day one...Coffee Time...

When the film was released, none other than stuffy Bosley Crowther, critic for The New York Times, was impressed: "...a rhythm dance, done to the melody of Mr. Freed's Coffee-Time, puts movement and color to such uses as you seldom behold on screen."

More recently, Stuart Klawans of The Nation was even more enthusiastic: "Minnelli puts Astaire and Lucille Bremer into the midst of a mad pulsation of dancers in mocha and cafe au lait costumes...the chorus swirls; the camera swirls; the gringo-Latin rhythms shift giddily...Coffee Time  is heaven itself, and a warm-up for the 18-minute ballet that Minnelli and Gene Kelly would create in An American in Paris."

Coffee Time is the reworking of an earlier tune by composer Harry Warren called Java Junction. His collaborator, producer/songwriter Arthur Freed, created new lyrics for the updated melody. In the film, the routine begins as a captivating contrast in rhythms, with the orchestra playing in 4/4 time while the dancers dance in 5/4 time. The number goes through a series of variations and ends up a full-blown swing number showcasing Astaire and Bremer.

The Coffee Time sequence is a fiesta for the eyes. Costumer Irene Sharaff developed the stylized combo of costumes and decor. She created coffee-colored outfits for the extras and, to set off the costumes, devised a pattern of rolling black and white lines on the dance floor that form an optical illusion. With Fred Astaire, choreographer Eugene Loring came up with a dance based on slow jazz rhythms. Minnelli's lighting and camera work added the finishing touches.

Watch Coffee Time here -

Thursday, November 11, 2010


The San Francisco Film Noir Foundation has set its first-ever Noir City Xmas for Wed., December 15, at the Castro Theatre, and extends an invitation to “enjoy a Cruel Yule...”

The double feature pairs Remember the Night (1940) and Mr. Soft Touch (1949).

TCM has been airing Remember the Night regularly in recent years, and that's where I first saw it. The film stars Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck as an assistant DA and a thief who share a memorable and affecting holiday before she is set to serve her  jail sentence. Directed by Mitchell Leisen, written by Preston Sturges.  A classic.

Mr. Soft Touch stars Glenn Ford and Evelyn Keyes. A combination of “tight-lipped noir and broad comedy," it was shot on location in San Francisco. The film tells the story of a WW II veteran (Ford) out for revenge when he falls in with a kindly social worker (Keyes).  My first viewing of Mr. Soft Touch will be this “freshly struck 35mm print.”

San Francisco’s 9th annual Noir City Film Festival will run from January 21 – 30, 2011, also at the Castro Theatre; I'll post the screening schedule and ticket information as soon as it's available. Film noir fans should try hard to attend this festival, it's a chance to see both classics and rare "B" gems on the big screen in an old-style movie palace. 


Sunday, November 7, 2010


by guest contributor Whistlingypsy

The emergence of those stylistic elements in American films later termed noir by critics is often debated and open to interpretation.

Five years before the films that captivated French critics for their “dark” plots and visual style, John Ford directed an equally dark film for RKO Studios. The Informer (1935) was based on the novel by Liam O’Flaherty and tells the story of an increasingly desperate man. Whether John Ford had the stylistic treatment of German expressionism in mind when making the film seems unlikely, but Gypo Nolan’s (Victor McLaglen) flight through Dublin’s fog wreathed streets suggests these atmospheric elements as an archetype of noir essentials. Through the effective use of black velvet drapery and fog, to disguise the minimal budget for art direction, Polglase and assistant art director Charles Kirk created an atmosphere that is alternately brooding and menacing, dark, claustrophobic and bleak. Setting the story over the course of one night gives immediacy to Nolan’s frantic race to outrun his conscience and his pursuers. This small film would proved an artistic triumph, surprising studio executives, and won four Academy Awards, one for John Ford’s direction and Victor McLaglen’s portrayal of the lead character.

Alfred Hitchcock, before he began directing films in 1925, was active as an art director. He entered the industry in 1919 when he was employed by the Islington studio location of Famous Players-Lasky and he worked as an art director on at least six films before moving on to directing. Hitchcock’s lifelong interest in production design has often been understood in light of his experiences at German studios both in Berlin and Munich and his exposure to German expressionism.

Hitchcock’s first project for RKO Studios had been a comedy and with his next assignment he was given the opportunity to pursue a subject in keeping with his earlier darker films. Suspicion (1941) was notable for first introducing actor Cary Grant and director Hitchcock, and for using art direction as a psychological element in storytelling. The contrast between Lina’s (Joan Fontaine) reassuringly stuffy family home and the coldly menacing home she shares with husband Johnny (Grant) personifies the tension of her state of mind.

The film’s art direction, supervised primarily by Carroll Clark, is also noteworthy for using the human form as an architectural element. The tall and solid form of Cary Grant balanced on the stairs is echoed in the equally tall and solid column at the foot of the stairs. The graceful line of the pinstripe in Grant’s suit is echoed, but altered, in the equally graceful lines of the treads and risers of the stairs. These lines are further mimicked in the lines falling across the wall and surrounding Grant’s head. The elements confirm and confuse by communicating both Grant’s guise of reliability and the shadow of suspicion regarding his motives, all combining to create one of the most emotionally menacing sequences in the film.

Van Nest Polglase is credited with supervising art direction on what is considered the finest film ever made in America. However, the credit for most of the innovative art direction rightly belongs to Perry Ferguson. Many film scholars have written in depth on the making of Citizen Kane (1941), with a focus on cinematography and the use of lighting, but few focus on the contribution of art direction.

Pauline Kael, film critic and author of The Citizen Kane Book, mentions neither Polglase nor Ferguson. Orson Welles, in trade paper ads the day of the film’s Hollywood premiere, gave thanks “to everybody who gets screen credit for Citizen Kane and thanks to those who don’t.” Considering the risk involved in screening the film, this was a generous acknowledgment of the work of many creative individuals. Although Welles appears to have refused to acknowledge Polglase’s contributions, he praised Perry Ferguson’s historical details stopping short of giving Ferguson his due credit on the film.

Ferguson’s use of reversal of scale as Kane’s ambitions move from larger than life to dwarfing the man who created the illusion is one of the film’s benchmarks and an example of RKO’s sophisticated art direction. A comparison of Citizen Kane with a lesser film in production the same year proves the level of RKO’s emerging visual style.

Stranger on the third Floor (1940) was a minor B-film that caused no great stir at the time and could have easily disappeared to the dustbin. Some film historians claim the film contains the first examples of what would later be termed noirish elements (but this is open to debate). Compare the two films for their remarkable similarities: the often dream-like quality, elaborate sets, oversized props and the exaggerated reversal of perspective found in both is significant. The photos to the right show a scene from each film that again reveals a stylistic use of the human form in an architectural environment, and nearly duplicates the body language of the lead character poised at the top of the stairs. Two different art directors created the design of these films, but the designs were produced under the guidance of Van Nest Polglase and RKO art direction.

Polglase left RKO Studios as head art director in 1942 and divided his time between freelance and studio projects before retiring fifteen years later. His film credits during this period include The Fallen Sparrow (1943); A Song To Remember (1945); Gilda (1946); Slightly Scarlet (1956) and B-films directed by Allan Dwan.

In February of 2005, the The Art Directors Guild unveiled its new Hall of Fame and inducted the following legendary production designers at the ninth annual Art Directors Guild Awards: Wilfred Buckland, Richard Day, John DeCuir Sr., Anton Grot, Boris Leven, William Cameron Menzies and Van Nest Polglase.

A trend in film criticism seems to have developed regarding Polglase’s contributions to RKO’s art direction, dismissing them as negligible at best. An unfair appraisal of Polglase may be due to the assumption that he ran his department based on his experiences at and observations of M-G-M and Cedric Gibbons. Richard B. Jewell, film historian and author of The RKO Story states, "The supreme irony of RKO's existence is that the studio earned a position of lasting importance in cinema history largely because of its extraordinarily unstable history. Since it was the weakling of Hollywood's 'majors,' RKO welcomed a diverse group of individualistic creators and provided them...with an extraordinary degree of freedom to express their artistic idiosyncrasies.... [I]t never became predictable and it never became a factory."

Jewell’s assessment that RKO was a studio of artistic freedom did not preclude conflict over creative control. David O. Selznick, the man responsible for Polglase being made head of art direction, left the studio after a brief fifteen months. Polglase remained with the studio for ten years as an administrator and art director, successfully filling both roles with films that satisfied audience demand for inventive entertainment and studio executives’ demand for new revenue. A change of perspective from Polglase taking credit for work he did not do would result in his making possible the outstanding work of art directors Carroll Clark and Perry Ferguson.

There are many elements that form a link between architecture and art direction. The difference between the two disciplines is where architecture “encompasses” space from without art direction “evokes” space from within, and the architecture of film works within cuts and edits, frames and openings. The architect designs a space with an eye to permanence while the art director designs a space with an eye to the ephemeral. This leaves the art director a greater sense of flexibility when creating his projects unfortunately; the architect and the art director both depend on the efforts of preservation to maintain a permanent record of the artist’s original vision.

Scroll down to read Part I of Van Nest Polglase ~ Architect of Cinematic Dreams

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


by guest contributor Whistlingypsy

The artistry of classic films reveals a cinematic alchemy in melding talent both before and behind the camera. The actor/actress and director are the two most visibly recognizable artists who created the image on screen. A careful viewer can also learn to recognize the names of the creative individuals who labored behind the scenes. Van Nest Polglase was one of these individuals who created the world in which our favorite characters move and have their lives.

Despite his elegant and intriguing name, his nearly decade-long tenure as RKO Studios’ art director and over 300 films to his credit, Polglase remains something of an enigma. In the absence of a definitive biography on the man’s life and career, much of what has been written is often contradictory and filled with errors (he was not married to actress Dolores Del Rio as one source claims).

Van Nest Polglase was born in Brooklyn, New York on August 25, 1898, and his unique name is a result of his family’s Cornish heritage. His education included the study of both architecture and interior design, but this is where the two paths of his life story diverge.

Some sources claim that Polglase finished school and was employed by Berg and Orchard, a New York architectural firm. He is also credited with work on the Presidential Palace under construction in Havana, Cuba. The likelihood that he was involved in the Cuban project is remote, the architects of record were Cuban born Carlos Maruri and Belgian born Paul Belau, and some sources claim that Polglase actually dropped out of school before receiving a degree in architecture.

However, in 1919, at the age of 21, Polglase was working for Famous Players-Lasky (today known as Paramount Studios) at their New York studio facilities. He made the move to the studio’s Hollywood location when financial constraints forced the closing of the locations in New York and Europe. He remained with Paramount Studios for a decade before moving to M-G-M where he worked under Cedric Gibbon’s leadership.

During his first decade alone, advances in architectural design and filmmaking technology forced Polglase frequently to reevaluate his style and expand his visual vocabulary of art direction. He came to filmmaking at a time when the first sets were built to resemble a theater stage to give audiences a reference point, and the category of “settings” covered everything from art direction to set design. The practice of grouping the different disciplines into one category, as well as crediting an individual for a department’s work, makes it difficult to track Polglase’s work during his early career. However, the AFI Catalog of Motion Pictures lists Stage Struck (1925, Paramount) and Untamed (1929, M-G-M) among his early titles.

Stage Struck proved a challenge for Polglase to create a design suitable for Gloria Swanson, who had distinguished herself as a design and style icon through her previous films in partnership with Cecil B. De Mille. Untamed was set in three distinctly different locations requiring equally distinct design sensibilities and featured Joan Crawford in her first sound picture, which came with the added challenge of incorporating the new technology into the set design.
RKO Studios was formed when the KAO (Keith-Albee-Orpheum) theater chain and FBO (Film Booking Offices Of America) were brought together under the control of RCA (Radio Corporation of America). David O. Selznick was hired in 1931 and in his new role as production chief, he recruited producer/director Merian C. Cooper, director George Cukor, actress Katharine Hepburn and art director Van Nest Polglase. One of Polglase’s first projects as art director was to redesign the studio logo to incorporate the blinking radio tower at the heart of RKO’s business ties with the RCA Corporation.

The image most frequently associated with RKO’s art direction is the series of films that paired Fred Astaire and Gingers Rogers. The films were charming fantasy confections, but the art direction was equally rooted in the concepts of architecture. The art direction is ideally suited to the dancers with both personifying the streamlined and elegant, witty, athletic and sexy ideals of art deco architecture.

The fantasy version of Venice in Top Hat (1934), which combines streamlined modernism and neo-classical references, displays an architectural style both immediately recognizable and equally unfamiliar to movie audiences. The result is tied neither to the past nor the present, but freely evokes the glamorous lifestyle of theatergoers’ dreams, transporting weary Depression era audiences out of their all too grim present and allowing them to hope for a better future. The popularity of the Astaire and Rogers films allowed the studio to pursue projects set in a wide variety of eras with equally varied plotlines.

A glimpse at Katharine Hepburn’s filmography during the period reveals the careful attention to detail in the Civil War era design of Little Women (1933); the modified art deco chic of Adolphe Menjou’s apartment in Morning Glory (1934); the use of a Victorian era Arts and Crafts design blend in the boarding house of Stage Door (1937) to communicate homey comfort; the all for fun eccentric design of Bringing Up Baby (1938) from the jail cell to the museum display.

In 1939, RKO undertook the ambitious remake of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, a film that had been an enormous success for Universal Pictures during the silent era. The challenge was to create a new version that would exceed the expectations of those who could remember the original and make new fans of younger moviegoers. The film proved a showcase for Polglase’s attention to detail, and his perfectionism gave the historical sets an element of accuracy not found in the creations of the larger studios.

The Paris of the RKO version features extravagant sets, immense staircases and oversized doors; the attention to detail is evident in the massive bells (Gabrielle, Big Marie and the rest) and a whole cow roasting on a spit (a prop that seems to have traveled to Citizen Kane for a picnic), the garden party lit by paper lanterns and the grand spaces within Notre Dame, from Clophin’s (Thomas Mitchell) court of miracles to Quasimodo’s (Charles Laughton) sanctuary in the clouds.
A fundamental point to keep in mind is the emergence during this period of an RKO-specific visual style, and while the stylistic elements of art direction are the product of a talented art director, other factors contribute to this development. The influence of German expressionism in film noir is widely acknowledged and can be observed in films made by German expatriates in Hollywood during the silent era. The creative individuals of RKO’s art direction were working between the influence of expressionism and the emergence of film noir, and the challenges of the studio system; reduced budgets and relatively modest sets provided the genesis of a new genre.

During Polglase’s tenure at RKO, the studio faced continued economic challenges and numerous changes at the executive level. One such change in management philosophy led the studio to distribute films for independent producers, with Walt Disney’s earliest feature length titles among these films. The artistic vision of any RKO film bore Van Nest Polglase’s name, but he was not solely responsible for realizing this vision. Polglase relied heavily on his department and especially on the talents of Carroll Clark, Perry Ferguson and Charles Kirk. The question regarding artistic vision is additionally problematic when such independent directors as Ford, Hitchcock and Welles are behind the camera. Did these directors have cooperative relationships with Polglase, working to bring their visions to the screen, or was an art director entirely secondary to their vision?

Part II will follow soon...


Thank you Lady Eve for your gracious invitation to contribute to your blog site, and thank you filmguy24 for your invaluable insights into the world of architecture as it relates to art direction.