Showing posts with label Charles Laughton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charles Laughton. Show all posts

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Josef von Sternberg, Merle Oberon and Charles Laughton
In 1934, British scholar/writer Robert Graves published his best known and most successful work, the sweeping historical novel I, Claudius, written in the form of an autobiography by the Roman Emperor Claudius (10 B.C. - 54 A.D.). 40 years later this classic work would receive plaudits and a new audience in an entirely different medium.

The golden age of the television miniseries began in the mid-'70s - Rich Man, Poor Man was a sensation in 1976 and Roots made history in 1977. Classics like Shogun (1980), Brideshead Revisited (1981) and Winds of War (1983) soon followed. In 1976 the BBC's Masterpiece Theatre adapted Graves's historical fiction into a 12-episode landmark starring Derek Jacobi (Claudius), John Hurt (Caligula), Sian Phillips (Livia) and Patrick Stewart (Sejanus). An Emmy and BAFTA winner, I, Claudius debuted in the U.S. in 1977 and was, among other things, later acknowledged as inspiration for the blockbuster prime-time soap, Dynasty (1981 - 1989).


This year, in March, Acorn Media released a new boxed set edition celebrating the 35th anniversary of I, Claudius. Among the bonus features are extended original versions of episodes one and two, a behind-the-scenes documentary entitled I,Claudius: A Television Epic, an interview with Derek Jacobi and...a 70+ minute BBC documentary from 1965, The Epic That Never Was, about the unfinished Alexander Korda production of a Josef von Sternberg-directed film. This first version of the Graves novel starred Charles Laughton (Claudius), Merle Oberon (Messalina), Flora Robson (Livia) and Emlyn Williams (Caligula).

A sketch by Art Director/Production Designer Vincent Korda for I, Claudius

In 1937 Korda, who would later marry Oberon, set out to produce a grand epic. In 1933 he had produced and directed The Private Life of Henry VIII, the popular film that brought Charles Laughton a Best Actor Oscar, and produced another great success in 1934 with The Scarlet Pimpernel starring Leslie Howard. Hungarian-born but based in Great Britain, Korda's dream was to make pictures in England that rivaled those coming out of Hollywood. With Henry VIII and The Scarlet Pimpernel, he'd begun to realize his dream but wanted to reach further. With Charles Laughton still under contract to him in 1937, Korda's ambition was to create a film greater than either Henry VIII or their most recent collaboration, Rembrandt (1936). Korda bought the rights from Robert Graves for the recently published I, Claudius, hired Josef von Sternberg to direct, and the project moved forward.

Charles Laughton as Claudius

The Epic That Never Was is hosted by actor Dirk Bogarde, who recalls in his narration that as a teenager he ventured with friends to Korda's Denham Studios to watch the filming of I, Claudius. The documentary features interviews with many who worked on the film: Merle Oberon, Josef von Sternberg, Robert Graves, Emlyn Williams and Flora Robson, as well as Korda's longtime script girl and others. Only Korda and Laughton, no longer alive in 1965, are absent.

Merle Oberon as Messalina
According to Merle Oberon, Korda wanted his friend von Sternberg to direct hoping that the filmmaker who masterminded Marlene Dietrich's ascent to stardom would handle Oberon with the same care and artistry so that she, too, might become a great star. The actress recalled vividly once filming began, "something odd happened," suddenly Charles Laughton "couldn't find his character." Laughton began to break down and the script girl remembered him despairing, "I can't find the man!" Josef von Sternberg recalled the actor "had some difficulty getting into his part" but felt, all in all, that Laughton's performance was "magnificent" and that his problems would pass.  Eventually Laughton determined that Claudius was Edward VIII and began listening to the former king's abdication speech to help sustain his motivation.

Flora Robson as Livia
Flora Robson remembered that Josef von Sternberg was very much the flamboyant director and that he came to the set dressed in riding boots and other regalia. The script girl recalled that the director was also a first-rate editor and noted that he seemed to "edit in his head" before he shot a scene. Her remarks bring to mind critic Andrew Sarris's observation that von Sternberg "entered the cinema through the camera rather than the cutting room" and Marlene Dietrich's flat statement that "he was the greatest cameraman the world has ever seen..."

About 30 minutes of the 1937 production footage survives and is included in The Epic That Never Was; it is fascinating. Emlyn Williams is vile and reptilian as Caligula and Laughton's inspired Claudius foreshadows Jacobi's brilliant interpretation. As always, von Sternberg composed visually stunning, painterly scenes drenched in atmosphere.

Just a month into shooting, Oberon suffered a car accident in which she was thrown into the windshield. She was badly injured and filming was permanently halted. Emlyn Williams considered this "a godsend;" according to him, producer, director and star were not happy. Author Robert Graves, who had written an unused script for the project, assigned credit for the film's demise to Claudius himself - from beyond the grave...

The Masterpiece Theatre drama met a far better fate than Korda's promising but ill-starred venture. Along with awards won and influence extended, TV's I, Claudius earned an enduring reputation and remains today among the top-ranked miniseries of all time. Any speculation by Robert Graves, who lived until 1985 and the age of 90, on the late Emperor's reaction to the BBC series is unknown...

John Hurt as Caligula, Derek Jacobi as Claudius, Sian Phillips as Livia

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.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010


Scroll down for Parts I and II of Light, Shadow and Synergy...

In 1933, during a hiatus between studio contracts and filmmaking, Josef von Sternberg traveled to Germany to explore establishing Marlene Dietrich and himself at UFA, the studio where the two had made The Blue Angel three years earlier. Just as the director was returning to the U.S., recently appointed Reich Chancellor Adolf Hitler suspended the German constitution and soon began revoking the citizenship of Jewish artists and scholars; not much later came the burning of books. Back in America, von Sternberg, an Austrian Jew, and his star signed on once more with Paramount where the director's new contract gave him almost complete autonomy over his films.

He later wryly reflected on his next (and last) two productions with Dietrich, “I completely subjugated my bird of paradise to my peculiar tendency to prove that a film might well be an art medium…”
Of the first of these, The Scarlet Empress (1934), von Sternberg recalled, “The film was, of course, a relentless excursion into style…the tapestry of the Russia of Catherine the Great was evoked in all its grandeur, though it was a re-creation not a replica…” 
The Scarlet Empress

"Based on a diary of Catherine II," von Sternberg’s re-creation follows the life of innocent young princess Sophia of Germany who is summoned to the Russian court to wed Grand Duke Peter (Sam Jaffe), a lunatic. Eventually adept at palace politics, the disillusioned royal wife (now called Catherine) becomes increasingly detached and power-obsessed, ultimately and victoriously seizing the throne in a coup. Along the way, she also becomes a powerful seductress whose countless lovers include a great number of soldiers in the Russian Army.

Von Sternberg’s re-imagining of events was so opulent and unusual that audiences and critics may have been put off by its byzantine iconography, Grimm’s Fairytale-esque characters and overt eroticism. The Scarlet Empress was unlike any of the many other Hollywood-produced historical spectacles of the era. Critic Robin Wood suspected that "ironic tragedy and a kind of macabre farce" were so closely bound within the tone of the film that audiences and critics simply weren't ready for it.

The Devil is a Woman (1935), reveals von Sternberg and Dietrich at the pinnacle of their partnership, though it, too, failed to connect. Von Sternberg, uncompromisingly expressive, produced a masterwork - audiences and critics and foreign governments be damned...
 
The Devil is a Woman
The film begins in turn-of-the-century Spain at the outset of a carnival. Arriving on the scene is exiled freedom fighter Antonio Galvan (Cesar Romero) who flirts with Concha Perez (Dietrich), the local femme fatale. A tryst is arranged but before they meet Galvan encounters old friend Don Pasqual (Lionel Atwill) who relates in humiliating detail, told in flashback, how his enchantment with Concha ruined him. Pasqual makes the younger man promise not to see Concha again but Galvan and the woman do meet and this sparks a duel between the two men. Concha and Galvan run away together but Concha proves to be...capricious.

The Devil is a Woman is a visual carnival. Von Sternberg saturates the screen in every scene with layer upon layer of filigree and texture (streamers, confetti, balloons, masks, scarves, veils, mantillas, sequins, bouquets, shutters, screens, baskets, stairways, archways, ironwork, birds, horses, sheep, trees, rain, mist, plumes of smoke). It is also a witty flamenco demonstrating the futility and absurdity of enslavement to superficial beauty and romantic ideals. Strains of Rimsky-Korsakov's "Capriccio Espagnol" punctuate this cruel and ironic tableau...

Dietrich portrays Concha, the spoiled and wily coquette, with an operatic flamboyance reflected in every gesture and inflection, in her makeup, costumes and coiffures. Lionel Atwill is at his best, and most notice that his performance as Pasqual is an artful take on von Sternberg himself. Cesar Romero is charming as the younger fool; Edward Everett Horton is a droll choice as the local governor.

As the production was ending, von Sternberg wrote a note to Dietrich about their final film, "My parting gift to you will be the greatest "Dietrich film" yet. In it, I give you all my talent. You will see the ultimate Dietrich and it will be your favorite of our seven films."

In the end, it was Dietrich's favorite film, not just among those she made with von Sternberg but of all her films; she felt it contained her best performance and showcased her at her most beautiful. But, she also remembered, “Josef von Sternberg’s decision, against my will, to terminate our collaboration – to which the studio executives probably also contributed – marked for me the beginning of a long series of mediocre films.”

Destry Rides Again
Dietrich, whose screen goddess persona became more fixed and formal (her daughter observed that her mother's image was no longer recreated but simply perpetuated), managed to rebound. In her autobiography Dietrich wrote that, in 1939, producer Joe Pasternak called her to say he was willing to take a risk and make a picture with her (she was by now "box office poison"). When told it was a Western, her instinctive reaction was to turn it down. However, she wrote, “Josef von Sternberg advised me to take the offer.” Her comeback in Destry Rides Again (1939) was one of the most dramatic in Hollywood history and she went on to become an enduring legend.

The Shanghai Gesture
Von Sternberg directed only a handful of films in his remaining career. Though a 1937 production of I, Claudius, starring Charles Laughton and Merle Oberon was promising, it was never completed; The Shanghai Gesture (1941) is the best known of his post-Dietrich films. The director's final film, Ana-ta-han (1953) was made in Japan, in Japanese with the director's own voice providing English narration.

Josef von Sternberg was fortunate enough to be "rediscovered" during his lifetime. The Devil is a Woman had become a "lost film." Pulled from circulation in 1935 under pressure from the government of Spain, all prints were thought to have been destroyed. But in 1959 the Venice Film Festival screened von Sternberg's own print; both film and filmmaker were showered with accolades. He became the subject of documentaries, wrote his idiosyncratic autobiography, Fun in a Chinese Laundry, and lectured on film at UCLA. Today his work is regularly studied in film programs and screened at festivals and retrospectives around the world.

Dietrich would always give von Sternberg full credit for her success, “I was nothing but pliable material on the infinitely rich palette of his ideas and imaginative faculties.”

Von Sternberg's assessment was slightly different, “I did not endow her with a personality that was not her own…I gave her nothing that she did not already have. What I did was to dramatize her attributes and make them visible for all to see...”

von Sternberg, Oberon and Laughton

Released this August by Criterion, 3 Silents by Josef von Sternberg  - the set includes his signature work of the late silent era - Underworld (1927), The Last Command (1928) and Docks of New York (1928).