Showing posts with label Harold Lloyd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harold Lloyd. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Safety Last!















SAFETY LAST!             A-                
USA  (70 mi)  1923  d:  Fred C. Newmeyer and Sam Taylor

Martin Scorsese’s Hugo in 3D (2011) was largely a loving tribute to the early history of cinema, featuring plenty of clips from earlier movies, where the main characters sneak into a movie theater and see a portion of a legendary Harold Lloyd stunt where he dangles above moving traffic 12-stories below while clutching the hands of an outdoor building clock of a skyscraper, which likely spurned new interest in this film, as it’s the one time Lloyd topped Buster Keaton for degree of difficulty in a film stunt.  Lloyd was always overshadowed by the more popular Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, whose physical comedy often included danger to the performers, this film immortalized Harold Lloyd with what is arguably the greatest stunt in movie history.  Part of the reason Lloyd is less known is his films are so grounded in the era of 1920’s America, and he had a distinctive business practice of holding onto the rights to his films, where they weren’t re-released as frequently as the best of Chaplin or Keaton, so until the era of DVD collections, many people simply hadn’t seen or heard of most of his work.  Also, Lloyd, interestingly, refused to grant cinematic rights to theaters that could not accommodate an organist, claiming his work was not intended to be played with pianos.  Lloyd also held out for $300,000 per picture for two showings on television, which resulted in far fewer sightings of his work than Chaplin and Keaton.  His films, however, often included chase sequences or daredevil feats, where in 1919 he suffered an injury from an explosive devise that was mistaken for a prop, resulting in the loss of his thumb and index finger of his right hand, wearing a special prosthetic glove afterwards.  The film’s ironic title refers to the expression “safety first,” which places safety as a priority to avoid accidents, and is a lacerating satire on the potential hazards of work.    

Born in a small town in Nebraska, Lloyd, always anxious to please with his recognizable Clark Kent glasses, plays a typically average middle class everyman who believes that success can be achieved through hard work, and while eagerly striving for success and recognition, here he literally and metaphorically tries to climb his way to the top.  Billed only as “The Boy,” Lloyd already has a small town sweetheart, “The Girl,” Mildred Taylor, who became Lloyd’s real life wife and retired from acting shortly after the shoot, where he plans to make it in the big city, sending for her after he’s become successful.  Living with a roommate known as “The Pal,” (Bill Strother), both have a hard time stuck in low end wages, where one of the better sight gags is both avoiding the rent-collecting landlady by hiding inside two coats hanging on the wall.  While there’s a lengthy sequence of fate preventing him from showing up for work on time, Lloyd has a meager sales job selling fabrics at a department store, an exploitive job where he’s continually debased, where he’s hounded both by an overly oppressive floor manager (Westcott Clarke), a slave driver who’s a stickler for rules and maintaining a dignified professional appearance, all while he’s being besieged by a fanatically crazed mob that overwhelms him with non-stop customer demands, never allowing him a moment to breathe.  When he actually does receive a pay check, the employee name is interestingly named “Harold Lloyd,” the only time this occurred throughout his entire career, supposedly edited in without Lloyd’s knowledge.  As a sign of encouragement, he mails his beloved back home a piece of jewelry, claiming he’s become a successful business tycoon and that he’d send for her shortly.  However, she can’t wait and decides to surprise him in the city, forcing Lloyd into a series of clever on-the-spot moments pretending to be the boss.  But it’s only when he overhears his real boss promising $1000 to anyone who could produce a crowd for the store that he steps in, knowing his “Pal” has an ability to elude cops by climbing straight up the sides of buildings, a dazzling spectacle sure to draw a crowd.     

The clock face stunt was inspired by an actual Bill Strother performance as a human fly that could climb up the sides of buildings, where Lloyd happened to catch his act climbing the Brockman Building while walking in Los Angeles one day (Human flies were supposedly very popular at the time, as were flagpole sitters and goldfish eaters.)  The big finale to the stunt involved Strother riding a bicycle along the rooftop's edge and then standing on his head on a flagpole.  Lloyd immediately placed Strother under contract at the Hal Roach studio, where Lloyd’s own career began in 1913, creating a comic character named Lonesome Luke, somewhat based upon Chaplin’s Tramp, but growing tired of that persona after 70 films, he created a new everyman character famous for wearing spectacles, where his character could change from being rich in one film and poor the next, but the pictures consistently featured overriding ambition and optimism as well as a continual stream of sight gags.  While many of the interior scenes were shot at a Los Angeles department store Ville de Paris, owned by a friend of Roach, they shot in the evenings working well after midnight.  Everything on the big day is set, where “Pal” agrees to the climb for half the reward, but waiting at the bottom is a nemesis cop that has it in for him, so he tells Lloyd to start the climb up a few floors, and he’ll take over after that, where they could switch clothes and no one would ever notice the difference.  But things don’t go as planned, which means Lloyd must make the climb himself, overcoming any number of obstacles along the way.  While his friend is too busy trying to dodge a cop, Lloyd’s epic climb builds in a beautifully constructed sequence, arguably the most memorable stunt of the silent era, where the real skill is creating an everpresent sense of danger by continually framing the exterior shots of Lloyd on the side of the building in full view of the 12-story fall directly behind him, creating and maintaining insurmountable tension and suspense.  For today’s audience used to seeing computer enhanced stunts, think of the neverending parade of martial arts superheroes, or expert stuntmen creating death defying action scenes, what’s particularly stunning is how this feat was accomplished by a seemingly ordinary guy, a pure amateur with no special talents forced by circumstances to become a man of action, with each gag building in succession upon the last, creating a thrilling sequence that is the earliest film listed on the AFI's 100 Years...100 Thrills List of 100 Most Thrilling Movies. 

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Hugo in 3D
















HUGO in 3D                            B+                  
USA  (127 mi)  2011  d:  Martin Scorsese  Official Facebook    Official Site  book website

No one questions Martin Scorsese’s sincerity when it comes to movies, as he’s a director obsessed with the history of movies, supporting the video releases of lesser known directors that may have received little exposure initially, and is one of the most outspoken advocates supporting film preservation.  He is perhaps the most knowledgeable American professor on the subject of cinema, as it’s a world he knows inside and out, being the elder statesman of American directors, having made movies since the late 1960’s, including two of the most critically acclaimed films ever made, RAGING BULL (1980) and GOODFELLAS (1990).  Everyone may have a different favorite, but no one disputes his mastery of the art form.  As a child, his mother thought it odd that he insisted on watching Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s THE RED SHOES (1948) over and over again, as he was mesmerized by the construction of such an enchantingly beautiful film. Throughout his career, most all of his films have catered to adult subject matter, where language alone, let alone excessive violence, may not be suitable for smaller children.  With this film, a screen adaptation of Brian Selznick’s The Invention of Hugo Cabret, a book which won the Caldecott Medal in 2008 for the most distinguished children’s picture book, Scorsese has finally found the right source material to make his first children’s film.  While the book is 533 pages, more than half are pencil drawings by the author where the illustrations are used to balance the way the story is told and ultimately understood, so a supremely gifted visual artist could only enhance the experience, which Scorsese chose to render in 3D, another first in his career.  The 3D glasses do darken the already darkened atmosphere, but also offer a bit of playfulness to some of the scenes, perhaps stretching the imagination somewhat, especially seeing 100-year old historic archival footage in 3D, which has never been done before, but they are by no means necessary to appreciate this film, which has a wonderful story.  However, with Scorsese at the helm, why not opt for the best?

From the opening shot, we’re quickly reminded of the overly cute, Frenchified version of Paris in Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s AMELIE (2001), which features swooping camera shots and picture postcard panoramas, as the camera pulls the viewers into an extended sequence that sweeps across the city landscape, guiding us past historical monuments through the Parisian streets and into a busy train station, finally resting upon the eyes of a young child perched high atop a rooftop looking out over the station below, peering through an inside opening of a clock tower.  But this is not your typical children’s adventure story, despite the French accordions playing as people in the crowded streets of Paris run right past one another, bypassing the friendly shops and outdoor café’s, creating a stampede effect in order to get to their trains on time.  Hugo (Asa Butterfield) is the child in the opening shot, a bright young boy cloistered away living high above the fray through the ventilation ducts and cavernous back passageways in a darkened 1930’s world filled with blowing steam and giant churning gears constantly turning, where the clicking sound is everpresent as he’s literally living behind the elevated clocks of the train station, like Quasimoto or The Phantom of the Opera.  In flashback sequences, his father (Jude Law) taught him to fix clocks and develop a fascination for fixing things, tinkering with various spare parts that he finds or steals, along with handfuls of food, but his father and his uncle die, so he now lives a Dickensian existence on his own, an orphan secretly inheriting the family job of winding all the clocks at the station so that they run on time.  His real life’s obsession, however, is trying to repair an automaton, an item discarded and rescued by his father from a museum, a small steel creature in the form of a human that runs on gears and springs and wires.  But so far Hugo has been stumped at making it work. 

Instead Hugo’s regularly harassed by the bumbling train inspector (Sasha Baron Cohen) and his vicious Doberman tracking hound, threatening to send any loitering orphans to the orphanage, which he does with a sadistic relish, an orphan of the war himself taking pride in carrying out his civic responsibilities by bullying and manhandling the little buggers, throwing them in a tiny locked cage like one might do with an escaped pet.  Hugo is also mistreated by a grumpy old man with a continuous scowl on his face that runs a toy shop (Ben Kingsley), who’s constantly berating Hugo as a thief as he’s forever stealing tiny parts needed for clock repairs.  The old man absconds with Hugo’s secret notebook, the one given to him by his father with all the drawings on how to construct the automaton, where he’s hoping it will help him figure out how to make it work.  When the old man threatens to burn it, Hugo follows him to his home where in the window he sees his goddaughter Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz), a girl about his same age, so he pleads for her help in the matter.  Something of a bookworm, she’s more interested in an adventure, so the two set out together on a mission of discovery, where she wears around her neck a secret key that may mysteriously help with the automaton, but also includes her first trip to the cinema watching Harold Lloyd’s dangling rooftop clock sequence in SAFETY LAST (1923) harold Lloyd Safety Last (on YouTube 5:55) and regular visits to the library where the elderly librarian (Christopher Lee) directs them to books on the history of cinema, which opens up a whole new world.  Apparently this is a movie for kids with intelligence who aren’t afraid of difficult or complicated emotions and love to find things in the dusty bins at the library, much like the director's own childhood.  Even as this film initially meanders to find its footing, Scorsese fills the screen with a rich and meticulous tapestry of vivid detail, always dazzling the eye with visual originality and flair.

Saving the best for last, through a series of spectacular flashback sequences, the grumpy old man, Isabelle’s godfather, is none other than George Méliès, one of the founding fathers of cinema, who around the turn of the century made a collection of moving pictures that specialized in magic acts and special effects, like disappearing heads or dancing skeletons, flying objects, missiles to the moon, mermaids and underwater sea creatures, all of which Scorsese lovingly recreates here and were thought destroyed during WWI when movie interest waned and Méliès was forced to sell his celluloid prints, as requisitioned by the Army, which melted them down for the liquid contents in making boot heels.  With Hugo’s rabid interest in rediscovering these films, Scorsese has a field day bombarding the viewers with a mesmerizing collage of turn of the century films, updated in 3D, offering special visualizations never before seen or even imagined.  This is a bonanza of unique discoveries, nothing less than spectacular, including hand print colorizing, something Guy Maddin used to love to do, offering a one-of-a-kind glimpse into the birth of cinema as conceived by none other than America’s reigning film historian.  This is a child’s adventure story where the world of adults is threatening and occasionally hurtful, but one that’s constantly changing and inventively different, that offers a chance at real discovery, where if you pursue your curiosity in life, you just might find your interests could change the shape and vision of the world.  This is a film near and dear to Scorsese’s heart, as who would have thought some kid from the Little Italy neighborhood in New York City, where he witnessed firsthand how gamblers and mobsters ran their underworld rackets, would end up becoming one of the foremost film historians and preservationists, not to mention one of the premiere artists of the past century.  This is a spellbinding trip to the movies that becomes an excursion into the history of movies itself—delightful.