Dinosaur (2000)

Movie number 69: Dinosaur (Dir: Ralph Zondag & Eric Leighton).

For today's review we travel back 65 million years, to a time when dinosaurs and primates lived in harmony and exchanged dating tips, in Walt Disney Pictures' visually stunning Dinosaur.

Iguanodon Aladar, separated from his mother while still an egg, is adopted by a family of lemurs and raised in the lush tropical surrounds of Lemur Island. When a devastating meteor shower hits, unfortunately coinciding with an annual monkey courtship ritual, the ensuing deadly dust cloud forces the family to leave their now barren home. Joining a herd of dinos heading for the Nesting Ground, Aladar clashes with group leader Kron whilst catching the eye of his sister Neera. A dino romance ensues, but drought, rockslides and a pair of hungry Carnotaurus threatens the perilous mission at every turn.

As you may have surmised, Dinosaur is not the movie to watch if you are seeking a pre-history lesson. However, if you are looking for a little lighthearted dino action with some thrills and occasional frights, then Dinosaur is a treat, visually at least.

With its real life filmed backdrops and detailed CGI dinosaurs, the movie looks beautiful. Yet, this groundbreaking approach to filming is, unfortunately, undermined by a pretty pedestrian screenplay. With an astonishing 5 writers credited for story and screenplay, Dinosaur borrows heavily from other similar themed movies, notable the Lucas/Spielberg production The Land Before Time (Don Bluth, 1988) an animated dinosaur epic which itself recycled elements of Disney's earlier Bambi (David Hand, 1942) and The Incredible Journey (Fletcher Markle, 1963). It is also marred by some glib, facile dialogue including a cringe inducing reference to lemur threesomes ('monkey in the middle'?!).

It is perhaps best not to dwell on the story and screenplay elements of Dinosaur, after all its writers didn't. Anyone above the age of 7 is clearly here for the spectacular visuals. This was the first time Disney had utilised CGI on such an elaborate scale in one of its own non-Pixar movies. While computer graphics have undoubtedly been refined in the two decades since its release, the visuals are still mightily impressive. Its most spectacular set-pieces include the meteor storm, the Carnotaurus attack and an opening, following the journey of Aladar's egg from nest to Lemur island, which the studio used as the film's trailer, such was their belief in the strength of the animation. With dinosaurs filling the screen almost every second of the movie, it makes the dino appearances of Jurassic Park (Steven Spielberg, 1993) seem positively random.

Dinosaur was a hit with cinema audiences, but not on the scale the studio had hoped for and nowhere near the blockbuster success of the superior Jurassic Park. Audiences were possibly experiencing dino-fatigue after two Jurassic Parks, but more than likely its story elements, which seemingly skewered the movie to a much younger audience, are to blame. A better script would have undoubtedly elevated it above the status of matinee popcorn fodder; its visuals belonging to an epic on a much grander scale than dialogue and plot suggest. None the less, Dinosaur is a highly entertaining movie, especially for dino obsessed kids. But also well worth a look for grown-ups who are willing to overlook its shortcomings to enjoy the awesome visuals.

Who Done It? (1956)

Movie number 68: Who Done It? (Dir: Basil Deardon, 1956).

Who Done It? is a late period Ealing comedy starring popular TV comic Benny Hill, directed and written by Ealing stalwarts Basil Deardon and TEB 'Tibby' Clarke, respectively.

In his movie debut Hill stars as Hugo Dill, a disillusioned ice show sweeper with an obsession for pulp detective fiction. After winning £100 and, somewhat incredulously, a bloodhound in a detective magazine competition, Dill sets himself up as a private investigator. Much to the chagrin of the local police force. He duly becomes entangled with political saboteurs whom he unwittingly aides in an assassination attempt. Meanwhile becoming romantically involved with aspiring showgirl and strongwoman Belinda Lee. 

Yes, the plot is ridiculous. But, more importantly, it is funny. It is certainly slapstick of the broadest kind, but honestly, the sight of a bloodhound wreaking havoc on an ice rink can never fail to make me laugh. Those expecting Hill's brand of saucy (some would argue sexist) seaside postcard humour will be disappointed; this is purely innocent stuff and the better for it. Even the burgeoning romance between Hill and Lee is a rather chaste affair. 

Basil Dearden was one of the most prolific Ealing directors, although perhaps not the obvious choice for Who Done It? Helmer of the acclaimed dramas The Captive Heart (1946) and The Blue Lamp (1950), he rarely turned his hand to comedy and one would assume it was not his forte but for the excellent League of Gentleman (1960), produced by Ealing head Michael Balcon a year after the studio's demise. 'Tibby' Clarke on the other hand had proved himself an excellent comedy writer as scenarist of the bone fide Ealing classics Hue and Cry (Charles Crichton, 1947) Passport to Pimlico (Henry Cornelius, 1949) and The Lavender Hill Mob (Charles Crichton, 1951). Who Done It? doesn't rank among Clarke's best work but is nonetheless highly acceptable second tier work from a screenwriter who rarely wrote a bad script. 

Benny Hill would never again have a leading role in a movie; appearing instead as a guest in large ensemble productions Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines (Ken Annakin, 1965), Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (Ken Hughes, 1968) and The Italian Job (Peter Collinson, 1969). His long running TV series The Benny Hill Show would make him an international star but Who Done It? suggests he would have made an engaging leading man had he pursued that career path.

Who Done It? in no way represents the best of the Ealing Studios, yet neither is it the failure that its relative obscurity would suggest. It is well worth seeking out, especially for fans of vintage British cinema with the added bonus of acting legends Charles Hawtrey, Irene Handl and Arthur Lowe in early uncredited appearances.  

City Beneath the Sea aka One Hour To Doomsday (1971)

City Beneath the Sea aka One Hour to Doomsday (Dir: Irwin Allen, 1971

Originally made for US TV, City Beneath the Sea is an underwater sci-fi adventure from producer/director Irwin Allen.

Following his success with sci-fi movies such as The Lost World (1960) and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1961), Allen switched from director to producer role for a succession of popular TV shows including Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1964-68), Lost in Space (1965-68) and Land of the Giants (1968-70). In a similar vein, the initial pitch of City Beneath the Sea in 1969 was as a weekly series. At first unsuccessful, Irwin was able to secure support for a TV movie based upon the idea and City Beneath the Sea duly premiered on the NBC network in January 1971, fulfilling its duel purpose as both a 'Movie of the Week' and as a pilot for a proposed series. 

Set in the year 2053, City Beneath the Sea stars Stuart Whitman as commander of underwater city Pacifica. As storage for both the US gold reserve and the valuable yet highly unstable explosive H128, Pacifica is the target of an inside robbery from certain unsavory officials. However, this problem pales in significance to the imminent threat posed by an asteroid (or rather 'planetoid') on a direct collision course with the sub-aquatic metropolis!

A fairly impressive cast was assembled for the movie; joining the likeable, square-jawed Whitman are TV regulars Robert Wagner and Richard Basehart. A little extra cachet is added by blink-and-you-miss-them cameos from Joseph Cotton and boxer Sugar Ray Robinson. Of course it betrays its TV origins; the effects, largely utilising model work, are obvious but appealingly and in no way detract from ones enjoyment of the film. The colourful set design and costumes exhibit a nice 1970's futurist chic. Where the movie fails is in its narrative. The premise, while inherently silly, is a fairly strong one. But the screenplay, by John Meredyth Lucas, suffers from too much exposition and too little action. This, perhaps more than anything, sealed the fate of the property as NBC did not commission any further episodes. It did, however, secure release in UK cinemas. Retitled  One Hour to Doomsday it played as the second half of a double feature to The Omega Man (Boris Sagal, 1971).  

Following the failure of City Beneath the Sea, Allen forged a successful second career in cinema. As the producer of blockbusters The Poseidon Adventure (Ronald Neame, 1971) and The Towering Inferno (John Guillerman, 1974), his name would become synonymous with the newly popular disaster movie genre. Bridging the gap between the sci-fi series and the disaster epics, City Beneath the Sea comprises elements of both genres and as such can be regarded as the 'missing link' in Allen's career.

Despite its fair share of failures, Irwin Allen's legacy is a rewarding one, from fantastical futurist sci-fi to big budget all-star blockbusters. Sure, much of his output is camp and schlocky, but that is kind of its appeal. Through repeated TV screenings and its eventually release on home video City Beneath the Sea has attained a significant and deserved cult following. Almost 50 years after broadcast it remains an entertaining kitsch treat, especially for fans of vintage TV sci-fi and of the Allen oeuvre in particular.

Aladdin (2019)

Aladdin (Dir: Guy Ritchie, 2019). 

Disney raids its back catalogue once again for their latest remake of an animated classic. Released in 1992, Aladdin (Ron Clements and John Musker) is one of the Disney Studios most critically acclaimed and commercially successful movies. With an excellent musical score, groundbreaking animation and a magnificent performance by Robin Williams as The Genie, it is also a difficult act to follow, not least for Will Smith stepping into the winklepickers of Williams. 

This version of the Arabian Nights story of the boy who finds a magic lamp and the genie within who will grant him three wishes sticks close to Disney’s previous telling, although adding a further 40 minutes to its runtime. Surprisingly these extra minutes do not feel superfluous. Jasmine and Jafar both gain a little deeper character development and the Genie gets a love interest. Alan Menken, Howard Ashman and Tim Rice’s song score remains mostly intact with the addition of a new number, ‘Speechless’, co-written by Menken with songwriting duo Pasek and Paul. 

Brit Guy Richie seemed an unlikely choice of director but acquits himself admirably with his first family friendly musical fantasy. As do the cast; Mena Massoud as Aladdin and Naomi Scott as Jasmine make attractive leads and Smith is reassuringly great as Genie. Thankfully, Disney cast actors who can also sing and the soundtrack is mercifully free of the auto-tuning that has plagued previous features. 

What Aladdin lacks in originality it makes up for in spectacle. This is a very good looking movie with lavish song and dance numbers, exciting action sequences and top line special effects. Does it supplant the beloved animated version? Of course not. But it does hold up as a visually stunning, tuneful, wholly entertaining 130 minutes. While perhaps not as essential as its animated predecessor it is still a lot of fun and well worth a watch. 

The Silent Passenger (1935)

The Silent Passenger (Dir: Reginald Denham, 1935). 

Dorothy L Sayers’ amateur sleuth Lord Peter Wimsey makes his big screen debut in this original story, written by Sayers with screenwriter Basil Mason. 

When a man in wrongly accused of murdering his philandering wife’s lover Lord Peter Wimsey steps in to prove his innocence. The action largely takes place on board train from London to Dover and benefits from locations shot on actual stations. 

Made three years before another great train bound mystery, The Lady Vanishes (Alfred Hitchcock, 1938), The Silent Passenger pales in comparison to the later movie. Yet this slightly creaky thriller actually surpasses its obvious ‘B’ movie origins and really isn’t bad at all. Admittedly, it’s not much of a mystery as the audience know the identity of the murderer from the outset. But its climactic chase through a locomotive repair shop and into the pathway of an oncoming train is genuinely exciting. Peter Haddon hams it up nicely as Wimsey and it has its share of humorous moments as well as minor thrills. It is no classic by any means, but does have an old fashioned charm nonetheless.

There Ain’t No Justice (1939)

Movie number 64: There Ain’t No Justice (Dir: Pen Tennyson, 1939). 

A lightweight drama from Ealing’s early years, There Ain’t No Justice stars Jimmy Hanley as mechanic turned boxer Tommy Mutch. After a promising start to his career Mutch quits fighting on learning his bouts are fixed. He later returns to the ring in order to pay a family debt but refuses to take a dive as demanded by a corrupt manager. 

Hanley made a career from playing amiable types but is woefully miscast here. As a fighter he is unconvincing in both his physicality and his performance. This unfortunate casting is detrimental to an already dramatically weak picture. It is further hampered by the broad ‘cockerney geezer’ stereotypes of the supporting characters. 

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock’s former Assistant Director Pen Tennyson, it is for the most part, not up to the standard of even Hitchcock’s weakest efforts. However, one scene depicting an attempted suicide displays a brilliant use of editing to create tension and is so good it feels like it belongs in a different film. This sequence alone makes the movie worth watching. 

Tennyson directed two further, more distinguished movies: The Proud Valley (1940) and Convoy (1940), both at Ealing. He was tragically killed in a plane crash in 1941, ending a career which showed much early promise. 

Released the same year as the pugilist classic Golden Boy (Rouben Mamoulian), There Ain’t No Justice is nowhere near as good a movie. Indeed, it’s not very good at all. It lacks the authenticity to appeal to boxing fans and the dramatic impetuous to appeal to movie fans. Worth a look for Ealing completists or for any admirers of Mr Hanley but markedly less rewarding for casual viewers. 

Young Man’s Fancy (1939)

Young Man’s Fancy (Dir: Robert Stevenson, 1939). 

Young Man’s Fancy is a very early comedy from the Ealing Studios. Released in what was producer Michael Balcon’s second year as studio head, the movie has few of the hallmarks later associated with Ealing. 

Griffith Jones stars as aristocrat Lord Albarn who is to be wed to a brewery heiress. Unhappy with the marriage of convenience he rebels, visiting a music hall and falling for human cannonball Ada (Anna Lee). Ada agrees to help Albarn out of the forthcoming wedding but soon the pair are caught up in the Siege of Paris and the events of the Franco-Prussian War. 

Such an odd dramatic turn in an otherwise frothy rom-com is slightly jarring but don’t let that put you off of this surprisingly entertaining movie. Not only are there plenty of laughs but it also has a social conscious rare in 1930s British cinema outside of the Documentary Movement. 

The talented Robot Stevenson only directed three films at Ealing before decamping to Hollywood where he gained critical and commercial success with Jane Eyre (1943). Late in his career he worked almost exclusively for Walt Disney Productions where he was responsible for number of excellent family drama and fantasy films including Old Yeller (1957)  and Mary Poppins (1964). Young Man’s Fancy is probably the best of Stevenson’s Ealing output, a somewhat frivolous but enjoyable ‘B’ picture from his and the studio’s formative years.

Pokémon: Detective Pikachu (2019)

Pokémon: Detective Pikachu (Dir: Rob Letterman, 2019). 

Part of the phenomenally successful Pokémon franchise, Detective Pikachu is the first movie in the series to combine live-action with CGI Pokémon. The somewhat convoluted plot finds insurance salesman and former Pokémon trainer wannabe Tim Goodman (Justice Smith) teaming up with Pikachu (voiced by Ryan Reynolds) to investigating the mysterious death of Tim’s detective father. Tim is the only human who can understand the amnesia suffering Pikachu who has some previous link with the detective. 

Visually Detective Pikachu is a highly satisfying film, narratively it is less so. The CGI Pokémon are beautifully realised creatures that integrate believably with the humans and real life surrounds; thankfully there are a wealth of these fabulous beings on display. Main man Pikachu has the requisite level of cuteness while Mr Mime makes a very effective and amusing cameo as a police informant; an encounter with oversized Torterra is visually stunning, as is the climatic battle with its Avengers-level of structural decimation! The film noir-like cityscapes that form the story’s backdrop are also highly impressive. 

Where the movie falters is in its narrative which somehow manages to be both predictable and confusing. With a tidier and tighter script Detective Pikachu might have been a modern day Who Framed Roger Rabbit (Robert Zemeckis, 1988); a family friendly infusion of 40’s film noir detective thriller and 2019 high-tech blockbuster. 

Dedicated Pokémon fans will probably be more forgiving of Detective Pikachu’s short comings. For casual fans and those less familiar with the franchise, it should prove to be a bewildering yet entertaining 105 minutes. For its amazing eye candy alone Pokémon: Detective Pikachu is well worth catching. 

The Feminine Touch aka The Gentle Touch (1956)

The Feminine Touch aka The Gentle Touch  (Pat Jackson, 1956). 

A late period Ealing drama, variously retitled The Gentle Touch and A Lamp is Heavy in international markets; The Feminine Touch follows a group of student nurses as they embark on careers with the greatest of British post-war institutions, the NHS.

Unusually for an Ealing Studios production, the main protagonists are female. The narrative focuses largely on nurses Susan Richards (Belinda Lee) and Pat Martin (Delphi Lawrence) through initial training, exams and their inevitable romantic liaisons with doctors. 

Told in the pseudo-documentary style often favoured by Ealing, the sense of realism is all slightly undone by the impossibly glamorous nurses who look every inch 1950s starlets and not hardworking medics. 

Occasionally the movie threatens to deliver a worthwhile statement on gender inequality, such as addressing the injustice of female nurses having to quit their job upon marriage. However, this important issue is undermined by the pat suggestion that by supporting their doctor husbands they will still be performing a valuable service to the medical profession! 

While the idea of movie projecting a positive image of women in the workplace is to be applauded, its ultimate message seems to reinforce the notion that it is a man’s world and a woman’s place within it is to make her hubby happy. Such was the word in 1956. Indeed, even in a film about women top billing is given to man, co-star George Baker. 

The Feminine Touch was to be director Pat Jackson’s only film for Ealing. This is probably no loss to Ealing. Where their earlier movies were often seen as promoting socialism and progressiveness, The Feminine Touch seems to be content with looking backwards rather than forwards. As entertainment it is pleasant enough, albeit slightly dull and hopelessly dated. As a tribute to NHS nurses it fails miserably a group of women who deserved so much more recognition than a middling, routine drama. 

DuckTales the Movie: Treasure of the Lost Lamp (1990)

DuckTales the Movie: Treasure of the Lost Lamp  (Dir: Bob Hathcock, 1990). 

Originally posted on Instagram 28/05/19:

Inspired by Carl Barks’ Uncle Scrooge and Donald Duck comics from the 1940s to 1960s, Disney’s DuckTales was a weekday animation series that premiered on US TV in 1987. The show proved a massive hit with audiences and critics, running 4 seasons and 100 episodes and spawned the 1990 theatrical feature film DuckTales the Movie: Treasure of the Lost Lamp. 

The long form adventure stories of Barks formed the basis of many DuckTales episodes and would seem ideally suited to feature length adaptation. However for DuckTales the Movie an original story was created that drew upon both Barks and the stories of the Arabian Nights. 

While treasure hunting in the Middle East, Scrooge McDuck and his nephews, accompanied by pilot Launchpad, housemaid’s grandaughter Webby and dubious guide Dijon stumble across a lost, sand covered pyramid in the Egyptian desert, resting place of the fabled Lost Treasure of Collie Baba. Among the riches is a seemingly worthless lamp which Scrooge discards but is rescued by Webby. Dijon, meanwhile, is in the employ of evil sorcerer Merlock who steals the treasure, minus the lamp and sends Scrooge home empty handed. On arriving home in Duckburg, Webby and the nephews discover the lamp contains a magical genie and before long Merlock and Dijon are back to secure the lamp for the sorcerer who wishes to use it for his evil doings. 

The Barks-esq opening scenes of DuckTales are easily the movie’s best. The story lags somewhat in the Duckburg bound middle act but is back on form for an exciting climax drawn from the Arabian Nights and similar in execution to Disney’s own contemporarily produced adaptation of Aladdin (Ron Clements and John Musker, 1992). 

The animation, while perhaps a step down from the classic Disney features is a notch up from the TV series and the voice work, particularly Alan Young as Scrooge and Christopher Lloyd as Merlock is excellent. 

Underperforming slightly at the box office, there was to be no feature length sequel. The DuckTales franchise continued for a number of years, fittingly, in comic book form and was successfully rebooted for TV in 2017. 

While DuckTales the Movie is not quite the adventure that Carl Barks aficionados may have hoped for, it is still an exciting, well executed fun movie. Treasure of the Lost Lamp is, indeed, a gem. 

The Neptune Factor aka The Neptune Disaster (1973)

The Neptune Factor aka The Neptune Disaster  (Dir: Daniel Petrie, 1973). 

Bearing an uncanny resemblance to Hanna-Barbera’s 1972 animated tv series Sealab 2020, The Neptune Factor is a underwater adventure with an all star(ish) cast. 

Subsurface research base Oceanlab is hit by an undersea earthquake, damaging the lab and leaving crew members stranded. Project head Walter Pidgeon enlists the help of submarine captain Ben Gazzara and chief diver Ernest Borgnine along with scientist Yvette Mimieux to survey for damage and rescue any survivors. However, the Oceanlab now lies at the bottom of an ocean trench and all manner of menacing sea creatures stand (swim?) between it and the rescue team.

Although partly filmed in the sea off Nova Scotia and in the Caribbean, it would appear that most of the trick photography was achieved in a studio; the effects are a mix of obvious model work and blown up footage of marine life. Edited in such a way that it is never completely convincing that men and monsters inhabit the same plane, as such, any sense of excitement that these sequences should have generated is lost.

Despite which, I feel it would be unfair to label the movie a total wreck. The earthquake scenes are impressive and Ernest Borgnine is always worth watching. As a whole, I did enjoy it but found parts of it rather dull, largely due to Daniel Petrie’s uninspired direction and a Jack DeWitt script which is short on thrills. This, more than anything, proves to be the movie’s undoing. 

In an attempt to cash in on the then current craze for disaster movies the film was retitled The Neptune Disaster in some territories. However, it feels much closer to schlocky 70’s sci-fi than to the disaster genre. Sadly, The Neptune Factor is one of those movies where the poster art is more impressive than the actual movie; an ambitious underwater sci-fi ultimately waterlogged by a pedestrian screenplay and average special effects. 

The Long Arm aka The Third Key (1956)

The Long Arm aka The Third Key  (Dir: Charles Frend, 1956). 

Originally posted on Instagram 18/05/19:

The final movie shot at Ealing Studios before production shifted to the MGM British Studios. The Long Arm, retitled The Third Key in the US, stars Jack Hawkins as phlegmatic detective superintendent Tom Halliday, busy pursuing a safecracker while neglecting his family. 

Charles Frend directs in a somewhat low-key documentary style which recalls earlier Ealing police drama The Blue Lamp (Basil Dearden, 1950). The attempted realistic portrayal of unglamorous, often mundane police work results in a movie which is less a thriller and more a police procedural drama. 

Hawkins is as dependable as ever in the lead and the film benefits from its use of real life locations, in particular an exciting climax at the Royal Festival Hall. 

While not quite as satisfying a movie as the classic The Blue Lamp, The Long Arm is still a neat little drama; notable for both its place in British film history and its considerable entertainment value.

The Man in the Sky aka Decision Against Time (1957)

The Man in the Sky aka Decision Against Time  (Dir: Charles Crichton, 1957). 

Originally posted on Instagram 17/05/19:

In 1955 the Ealing Studios were sold to the BBC for use as a production facility. Production of Ealing Films was moved to the MGM British Studios at Borehamwood and a distribution deal with MGM was secured. The deal was short lived; only 6 films were released through MGM and Ealing’s days as a production company were numbered. 

The first movie to be released under the new deal was The Man in the Sky, retitled Decision Again Time for US audiences.

Ealing regular Jack Hawkins stars as a test pilot who must make a difficult, life threatening decision when the engine of his aircraft fails. Elizabeth Sellars co-stars as his wife who believes her husband puts himself at unnecessary risk. 

Hawkins does well in one of his many stoic action hero roles and is ably supported by a fine supporting cast including Brit acting legends Lionel Jeffries, Donald Pleasence and Megs Jenkins. Charles Crichton, better known for helming comedy classics Hue and Cry (1947) and The Lavender Hill Mob (1951), proves adept at combining highflying thrills with the earthbound familial trails in what might have been an uneasy mix of domestic drama and disaster movie. 

The suspense is held to the final reel in this fairly tense and absorbing drama which, while perhaps not quite top drawer Ealing, is still a quality product with much to recommend it. Aircraft connoisseurs will enjoy the location footage shot at Pendeford Airfield and the Bristol Freighter plane which Hawkins pilots. 

The Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit (1968)

The Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit  (Dir: Norman Tokar, 1968). 

Based on Eric Hatch’s book The Year of the Horse, Walt Disney Productions’ The Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit is a lighthearted comedy set in the world of showjumping. 

Madison Avenue advertising executive Fred Bolton (Dean Jones) has just 24 hours to appease a client and save a valuable account. He hits upon the idea of sponsoring showhorse Aspercel - named for his client’s brand of indigestion tablets - which his shy daughter will hopefully ride to glory. 

Jones, in his 5th film for Disney is an amiable leading man. Diane Baker is equally likeable as his romantic interest. In her sole movie credit Ellen Janov impresses as Bolton’s daughter, while Disney regulars Kurt Russell and Norman Grabowski appear in smaller roles.

Yet despite this quality cast the movie is something of a disappointment. 

To describe The Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit as a gentle comedy would be an understatement. There are plenty of mild chuckles but few big laughs in a movie that canters rather than gallops to the finishing line. Even its climax at a critical International Horse Show event fails to generate much excitement. 

It seems a little redundant to be over critical of The Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit. It is well meaning and completely inoffensive yet also predictable and slightly dull. At just shy of 2 hours it is also about 20 minutes too long. In fact it is only the game playing of the appealing cast that saves it. 

If you’ve seriously nothing better to do it will while away a couple of hours. Horse lovers will undoubtedly enjoy the equine aspect but, to be honest, it is no champion. 

King of Jazz (1930)

King of Jazz  (Dir: John Murray Anderson, 1930). 

Conceived as a star vehicle for bandleader Paul Whiteman, and featuring Bing Crosby in his first screen appearance, King of Jazz is a spectacular musical revue, innovative in both its use of sound and early two-colour Technicolor; a process in which blues and yellows do not photograph but the reds and greens look lovely. Such was the care taken with the colour photography that every frame of the movie looks beautiful. 

As a revue there is no plot in King of Jazz, rather a series of musical numbers punctuated with short comedy skits. While the comedic segments may not have aged too well, the musical sequences are as wonderful as they are weird. Highlights include the rubber legged dancing of Al Norman in ‘Happy Feet’ and some incredible loose limbed contorting from Marion Stattler in ‘Ragamuffin Romeo’. Best of all is a magnificent performance of George Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, rendered ‘rhapsody in teal’ by the two-colour process. Here the entire orchestra is seated in the largest grand piano you have ever seen! 

Although an expensive failure for Universal Studios on release, the film has since been reappraised. Thankfully so, as there is little else like it in Hollywood history. 

Is King of Jazz a masterpiece? Not quite. But nearly 90 years after release it still makes for fascinating, not to mention highly entertaining, viewing. Anyone with an interest in 20s/30s band music and especially aficionados of early Hollywood will find much to enjoy. 

Dumbo (1941)

Dumbo  (Dir: Ben Sharpsteen, 1941). 

Walt Disney’s 4th animated feature is the story of the circus elephant born with oversized ears who uses his disadvantage to his advantage when he discovers his ears enable him to fly. 

At 64 minutes it is one of the shortest Disney movies but is a masterclass in storytelling. Not a second of screen time is wasted; in fact its tight narrative and snappy pace make it an advocate for shorter movies! 

It is also the most emotionally moving Disney feature. Many a tear has formed in audiences eyes as Dumbo is separated from his mother and ostracised by the other elephants. It is a credit to writers Joe Grant and Dick Huemer that the emotion never descends into false sentiment and there is also much humour to offset the heartache. 

The animation too is exemplary, as one incredible animation set piece follows another. Highlights include the shadowy roustabout sequence, the tragicomic disastrous pachyderm pyramid, Dumbo’s inaugural flight and best of all the surrealist Pink Elephants On Parade. The character animation, opting for a more ‘cartoony’ look than in previous features, is also among the studios best as are the beautiful watercolour backgrounds against which the action takes place. 

Add to this a fantastic score by Frank Churchill and Oliver Wallace, including the tender Baby Mine and the clever wordplay of When I See An Elephant Fly, and a powerful message of acceptance and the result is one of the greatest movies, animated or otherwise, of all time. In my opinion only rivalled for greatness by Walt Disney’s Pinocchio (B Sharpsteen & Hamilton Luske, 1940). Dumbo is unarguably a masterpiece and a work of art. 

The Love Bug (1969)

The Love Bug  (Dir: Robert Stevenson, 1969). 

Released three years after the death of the its founder, Walt Disney Productions’ The Love Bug continued the tradition of fantasy comedies established by the studio a decade earlier with The Shaggy Dog (Charles Barton, 1959). It introduced Herbie, the anthropomorphic VW Beetle, to cinema audiences and would prove a massive hit for Disney, spawning a franchise which would include four theatrical sequels, a TV series and a made for TV movie. 

The movie stars Dean Jones as washed up racing driver Jim Douglas whose fortunes are reversed thanks to the lovable VW Bug. He is pitted against arch rival David Thorndyke, who uses every dirty trick in the book to defeat Douglas in a cross-country race, the stakes of which are ownership of Herbie. 

Disney regular Jones and love interest Michelle Lee make for attractive leads and prove themselves adept at light comedy. Less subtle, but just as effective are Buddy Hackett as a kooky new age mechanic and Joe Flynn as Thorndyke’s long suffering assistant. Best of all is the magnificent David Tomlinson as the comically villainous Thorndyke. 

Ultimately the star is, of course, the car; brought to life through a combination of impressive stunt work and pre-CGI effects that hold up fine 50 years after release. Herbie has an endearing puppy dog charm and more personality than most humans! 

Bill Walsh and Don Da Gradi’s screenplay mixes slapstick humour with some genuinely witty dialogue while Robert Stevenson, arguably the greatest director on the Disney roster, brings his flair for whimsical fantasy to what might be his best work after Mary Poppins (1964). The Love Bug was to become the highest grossing movie of 1969 and one of the highest earners of all time. It’s easy to see why. With its winning mix of racetrack thrills and good natured laughs, it is a deftly performed, expertly crafted gem.