Five Weeks in a Balloon (1962)

Five Weeks in a Balloon (Dir: Irvin Allen, 1962).

Following the blockbuster success of Walt Disney's adaptation of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (Richard Fleischer, 1954) and Mike Todd's Around the World in 80 Days (Michael Anderson, 1956), 19th century French author Jules Verne was suddenly a 20th century Hollywood box office hot property. Of the movies released in their wake Journey to the Center of the Earth (Henry Levin, 1959) and Mysterious Island (Cy Endfield, 1961) are the best of the bunch. Further down the list is Five Weeks in a Balloon. 

Loosely based on Verne's 1863 novel of the same name Five Weeks in a Balloon finds an unlikely crew of adventurers, including explorer Fergusson (Cedric Hardwicke), his youthful assistant (popstar Fabian) and US newspaper hack Donald O'Shay (Red Buttons), set sail for Africa in a hot air balloon with a gondola inexplicably shaped like a unicorn! Picking up kidnapped teacher Susan (Barbara Eden) and slave trader Ahmed (Peter Lorre) en route. Getting into scrapes involving various tribes-people, the odd slave and a pipe-smoking chimp, expect some outdated racial stereotypes and some decidedly pre-feminist representations of women. Nothing overtly offensive, however, be warned it is very much a product of its time!

Five Weeks in a Balloon was a conscious attempt by 20th Century Fox to repeat the success of their adaptation of Journey to the Center of the Earth. A decent, if not exactly starry, cast were assembled. Buttons and Eden make for attractive romantic leads. Fabian is thrown in to attract the teens, similar to the casting of Pat Boone in Journey to the Center of the Earth. A little extra gravitas comes courtesy of Hardwicke and Lorre, but nothing particularly demanding is asked of any of the performers. 

Irwin Allen would seem a natural choice for director, having previously helmed the hit adventure movies The Lost World (1960) and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1961), both for Fox. Later in the decade he would provide the company with successful television sci-fi series Lost in Space (1965-68) and Land of the Giants (1968-70). Sadly, Five weeks in a Balloon would prove to be a disappointment, both artistically and commercially. It certainly isn't terrible, but it lacks the scope and grandeur of Journey to the Center of the Earth and even the more modest The Lost World.  A smaller budget is evident; while there is nothing essentially wrong with the effects, the balloon for example is impressive, it just seems light on spectacle compared to earlier Verne adaptations. 

Ultimately, Five Weeks in a Balloon is too slight a movie to be considered the epic adventure is promises to be. Neither is it the schlocky fun that so much of the Allen oeuvre is. It is lightweight entertainment, but perhaps a little too lightweight. As adventure and comedy it never quite takes flight and the end result is fun but a bit bland.

The Miracle of the Bells (1948)

The Miracle of the Bells (Dir: Irving Pichel, 1948).

The Miracle of the Bells is a sentimental RKO drama with an A list cast. 

Via a series of flashbacks, the story of aspiring actress Olga Treskovna (Alida Valli - billed here as simply Valli) is told through voice-over narration by Hollywood press agent Bill Dunnigan (Fred MacMurray). Following her early death, Dunning fulfulls her final wish by returning with the body to the small coal-mining town of her childhood. Here she is to receive a modest burial at the struggling St Michael's church, conducted by Father Paul (Frank Sinatra). We learn of Dunnigan's unrequited love of Olga as he concocts a publicity stunt to secure the release of her only film, a starring role as Joan of Ark, which producer Marcus Harris (Lee J Cobb) has held back, due to her death.

The decision to tell the story in flashback was probably a mistake and does little to help an already weak narrative. Its 120 minutes feels epically long and structuring the movie in this way only serves to delay the inevitable conclusion. When it finally arrives, the treatment of the so called 'miracle' is mawkish in the extreme. Even then the movie plods along pointlessly for another 20 minutes before the end credits roll. Despite its themes of faith and belief, The Miracle of the Bells feels patently fake. Nothing about the movie rings true, from its skewed ideas about the workings of Hollywood to the reaction of the world to the death of the previously unheard of 'star'. Even the miracle of the title is called into question by the St Michael's priest.

How such a slight movie ended up with a heavyweight cast is baffling. Yet MacMurray, Sinatra and Cobb have all given better performances in dozens of better movies. Frank Sinatra is no one’s idea of a priest and his casting here must have confused his, by then, fading Bobby-soxer audience. Modern audiences would be surprised to see Frankie third billed and in such a relatively minor role. Career revival would come for Frank with From Here to Eternity (Fred Zinnemann, 1953), but The Miracle of the Bells survives as a reminder of the legend's early career lull. He sings one number, a Polish folk tune, but the movie is not a musical.

Sometimes regarded as a Christmas movie, it isn’t, apart from a short early sequence set on Christmas Eve. It does, however, deal with religious themes. Faith can be a tricky subject to pull off on film, but it can be done; festive favourites such as It's a Wonderful Life (Frank Capra, 1946) and The Bishop's Wife (Henry Koster, 1947) are testament to this. Yet where those movies were successful in presenting spiritual themes in engaging, credible manner to a secular audience, The Miracle of the Bells is not. It feels outdated, corny and preachy. But its biggest sin of all is that it is so dull. At least 40 minutes too long, fidgeters like me will be feeling antsy about two thirds of the way through. 

With its star-studded cast, The Miracle of the Bells is not entirely unwatchable, but I cannot honestly recommend it, even to fans of such sentimental Hollywood hogwash. Give it go if you must; it will be a miracle if you make it until the end. 

We’re Not Married (1952)

We’re Not Married (Dir: Edmund Goulding, 1952).

Covering similar ground to the earlier Mr and Mrs Smith (Alfred Hitchcock, 1941), We're Not Married is a portmanteau comedy in which, due to a jurisdictional error, five couples discover they are no longer married. Seemingly starring any available 20th Century Fox contract player, the movie is of most interest today for an early appearance from Marilyn Monroe. 

On Christmas Eve, a newly appointed justice of the peace (Victor Moore) marries the first of five couples, ignorant to the fact that his appointment does not take effect until January. This comes to light a few years later when each pair is informed of the mishap. The movie follows each couple as they respond to the news in different ways. 

Although its strands are loosely connected, We're Not Married cannot overcome feeling like a series of sketches, some of which are, inevitably, better than others. For me the weakest of the bunch was the one which is granted the most screentime. Top billed Ginger Rogers and Fred Allen star as the Gladwyns, a pair of radio hosts whose contracts deem they are a married couple. I found the constant bickering between the two rather tiresome, although it does feature some neat satirical swipes at commercial radio. 

Far more appealing is the sequence with Marilyn Monroe as a Mississippi beauty queen and her stay at home husband David Wayne. Monroe's appeal, in what was one of her first significant roles, in readily apparent; easily holding her own among a cast of much bigger names. The other highlight is the episode with soldier Eddie Bracken and his pregnant wife Mitzi Gaynor. With Bracken about to be shipped to Hawaii, the sequence is a sweetly old fashioned reminder of the mores of an earlier age.

Less successful are the remaining segments, with Eve Arden as the long suffering wife of philanderer Paul Douglas and, Louis Calhern and Zsa Zsa Gabor as a warring couple on the verge of divorce. Both have their amusing moments but suffer from dated, some would argue sexist, humour.

Not a perfect movie, and some ways off from being a classic, We’re Not Married is still worth a watch thanks to some genuine high spots and its roster of vintage Hollywood stars. 

All Quiet on the Western Front (1930)

All Quiet on the Western Front (Dir: Lewis Milestone, 1930).

A pre-code WWI drama adapted from German author Erich Maria Remarque's 1928 novel, All Quiet on the Western Front follows a group of students as they enlist in the army, detailing their transformation from idealistic boys to war weary soldiers, depicting the squalid living conditions and futility of the loss of young lives with a stark realism.

Despite a lifelong love of vintage movies, until recently, I knew Lewis Milestone’s anti-war epic by reputation only. After my first viewing I am happy to report that All Quiet on the Western Front more than lives up to 90 years of hype. In short, it is a masterpiece. 

Told, unusually, from the perspective of German soldiers. At first the broad American accents are a little jarring and take some getting used to. But remember this is so early in the history of sound cinema that it is a miracle they are talking at all. Little else in the picture strikes a wrong note. Nowhere to be found are the static camera shots often associated with early talkies. With its inventive camera angels, practical special effects and hundreds of extras it presents a visual spectacle that more than holds its own against modern CGI aided blockbusters. The film is full of affecting imagery, from the sight of the rapt students stirred up by an impassioned indoctrination on the glory of serving the "Fatherland", to the poetic final frames of a butterfly on the battleground, fading to shot of a cemetery.

Its powerful anti-war message, seen by some as controversial, is as potent now as when the movie was made; so potent in fact that the feature was outlawed in Germany at the behest of the Nazis. Its plea for pacifism is all the more pertinent when one remember that the world would be in conflict again in less than a decade.

With the possible exception of Lewis Ayres, in the lead role of young soldier Paul, much of the cast is unrecognizable to modern audiences. This arguably lends the film more authority, as no preconceptions of star status are allowed to diminish the powerful performances. Director Milestone elicits sensitive, natural performances from the cast which compliments the brutally beautiful images that he and cinematographer Arthur Edeson have created. 

Almost a century after its release All Quiet on the Western Front remains probably the most powerful indictment on the horrors of war ever put to celluloid. Released a mere twelve years after the Armistice, the movie was met with immense critical acclaim, receiving the Academy Awards for Best Picture and Best Director in what was only the third year the ceremony was held. The movie is indisputably both an influential landmark in cinema history and a bona fide classic. Simply one of the greatest movies ever made.

Carefree (1938)

Carefree (Dir: Mark Sandrich, 1938).

A frothy RKO romance; the 8th pairing of the incomparable Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

This one has Fred as a psychiatrist and Ginger as his patient and fiancee of his best pal (Ralph Bellamy). Things get complicated when she falls for him and he hypnotizes her to remain faithful to the groom. The movie's outcome is clearly signposted from early on, but there is considerable fun to be had on the journey, nonetheless.

With only four full-blown song and dance numbers Carefree is less a musical than a screwball comedy with the occasional break for a song. The Irving Berlin score is pleasant enough, but by the composer’s own high standards is not especially memorable. 'Change Partners' and 'I Used to Be Color Blind' are the possible exceptions; both are considerably enhanced by Ginger and Fred's fabulous footwork. The highlight is undoubtedly Astaire's solo 'Since They Turned Loch Lomand into Swing' in which he ditches Rogers to partner a golf-club, proving as adept on the fairway as he is the dance-floor. 

Allan Scott and Ernest Pagnos screenplay, while implausible, does include a fair amount of humorous moments. While director Mark Sandrich, by now a veteran of the Astaire-Rogers movies, handles the comedy and the dance numbers with equal aplomb. It is all a lot of nonsense, but all is forgiven when Fred and Ginger take the dance floor. There was never a classier screen couple than Mr Astaire and Ms Rogers and support is offered by a particularly distinguished cast, notably Ralph Bellamy and Jack Carson. Unbilled and underused in one of her many domestic help roles is the great Hattie McDaniel. 

As its title suggests, Carefree is lighthearted, featherweight stuff. Often regarded as the weakest of the Astaire-Rogers partnership, it does pale in comparison to classics such as Top Hat (Mark Sandrich, 1935) and Shall We Dance (Mark Sandrich, 1937). Still, at a little over 80 minutes, it doesn't outstay its welcome. The old adage "they don't make 'em like that anymore" certainly applies here; fluff it may be, but it is consummately produced fluff, expertly performed by its legendary cast.

The Holly and the Ivy (1952)

The Holly and the Ivy (Dir: George More O'Ferrall, 1952).

It has now been a few weeks since I watched this movie and I appear to have misplaced my notes. So, please forgive me for a review which is even lighter on insight and heavier on vague observances than usual!

Based on a play by Wynyard Browne, The Holly and the Ivy relates the story of a Christmas family reunion of the Gregory family, the patriarch of which is a seemingly stuck in his ways, traditionalist village pastor (Ralph Richardson); resented by his grown up family, who feel he has neglected them in favour of his parishioners. Tensions rise and family secrets are revealed before the expected reconciliation on Christmas morning. 

A Christmas movie that previously flew under the radar, the reputation of The Holly and the Ivy seems to have grown in recent years. With its scintillating scandals and family feuds it is little more than the stuff of soap opera, but it is high class soap opera at that. Director George More O'Ferrall handles the potentially melodramatic subject in a low-key, restrained fashion, eliciting natural, believable performances from his cast. 

At age 50, Ralph Richardson is a little too young to fully convince as the aged Reverend Gregory. It is an otherwise great performance, but the role would undoubtedly have benefited from the casting of an actor of more maturity. As his daughters, Celia Johnson and Margaret Leighton are the real standouts. Both convey their individual personal trauma with empathy and sensitivity. In an early appearance for the actor, the great Denholm Elliott also impresses as the alcohol dependent son.

The Holly and the Ivy offers little that hasn't been seen in countless other family dramas; its situations the now familiar tropes of  formulaic 'Movie of the Week' features. Yet it is told with a sensitivity generally missing from such made for TV movies. It boasts a superior cast and strong direction from O'Ferrall. It also benefits from a warm nostalgia that tempers the sensationalist aspects of the story. While perhaps not quite a top drawer festive feature, it is a minor Christmas classic nonetheless.

Murder Ahoy (1964)

Murder Ahoy (Dir: George Pollock, 1964). 

The fourth and final entry in MGM’s Miss Marple series. 

Here the amateur sleuth boards the retired battleship HMS Battledore, now used by charity Trust for the rehabilitation of juvenile delinquents, in order to investigate the death of one of the charity's trustees. It is anything but plain sailing as more crew members are bumped off and Miss Marple's own life is at risk as she uncovers embezzlement and theft on board. 

The only title in the series not directly based on an Agatha Christie novel; the opening credits bear the legend “original screenplay by David Pursall and Jack Seddon based on their interpretation of Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple”. The wording here is key as, with a markedly more comic tone, this is definitely Pursall and Seddon’s interpretation rather than Christie’s.  However, having previously adapted three Christie novels, the writers prove more than adept at recreating a murder mystery with twists and turns worthy of the author. 

Wary that the franchise was in need of a refresh, the decision to set much of the movie on board the HMS Battledore gives it a slightly different flavour from other series entries. With Miss M spending much of the film aboard ship she relies heavier than usual on her land based contact and constant companion Mr Stringer (Stringer Davis). It’s nice for Davis to have a bit more to do and this different dynamic also serves to shake up the formula somewhat. 

Again, Rutherford is wonderful as Miss Marple; nothing like the character in the books, but an excellent comic creation in its own right. There is nothing quite as priceless here as when she danced the twist in Murder at the Gallop (George Pollock, 1963), but she does get to demonstrate her considerable fencing skills! As always, a cast of familiar vintage British stars offer sturdy support, most notably Lionel Jeffries whose terrific comic performance as ship's Captain Sydney De Courcy Rhumstone almost steals the movie from Rutherford. Also keep an eye out for Brit comedy favourites Nicholas Parsons and Derek Nimmo, both of whom register well in smaller roles.

This was to be Rutherford’s last Miss Marple movie, although she and Davis did make one more appearance in character for a brief cameo in The Alphabet Murders (Frank Tashlin, 1965). This MGM attempt to repeat the success of the Miss Marple series with a similar comic Poirot series was less successful, despite a screenplay by Pursall and Seddon and a quality cast headed by Tony Randall. 

Like its predecessors Murder Ahoy is all very silly, yet also highly entertaining. Later Christie adaptations may have been more faithful but few have provided as much fun as this quartet of quality comic gems.  Purists may disagree, but this naval nonsense is hard not to warm to and concludes the series in ship shape fashion. 

Murder Most Foul (1964)

Murder Most Foul (Dir: George Pollock, 1964). 

MGM’s third outing for Agatha Christie’s amateur sleuth Miss Marple, with the incomparable Margaret Rutherford in the title role. 

Investigating the murder of a blackmailer, Miss Marple bluffs her way into theatrical troupe the Cosgood Players, with whom the victim has a previous association. The old girl knows she is on the right track as more troupe members are disposed of. Anyone of the players has possible motive for murder, and Miss Marple is soon in danger herself as the killer gets wind of her snooping.

As with the previous series entry Murder at the Gallop, this movie is based upon a novel featuring Christie’s Belgian detective Hercule Poirot, in this instance her 1952 novel Mrs McGinty’s Dead. As before, Poirot is elbowed out the picture to make way for Miss Marple. 

Once again Rutherford attacks the role of Miss Marple with relish! While nothing like the literary incarnation, she injects the role with such goodnatured bluster that its impossible not to love her interpretation. A strong supporting cast of Brit acting legends adds to the fun. Returning from previous adventures are Charles Tingwell as the long suffering Inspector Craddock and Rutherford's real life husband Stringer Davis as Miss Marple's chaste love interest Mr Stringer. Impressing among the suspects are Ron Moody, Dennis Price and James Bolam as the highly theatrical thesps and Megs Jenkins as the victim's sister. Terry Scott makes of his many appearances as a comic copper. 

As with other titles in the series, Murder Most Foul is not necessarily one for Christie purists. Great liberties are taken with the original, not just the recasting of the lead character. However, the movie is a lot of fun. Director George Pollock skillfully judges the overt comic tone with the more serious business of murder. There are genuine thrills to be found as the mystery unfolds to a neatly suspenseful, not too obvious climax. 

In truth, Murder Most Foul differs little from the two previous outings. But happily, what worked before works again and the formula still feels surprisingly fresh. Unfortunately Miss Marple doesn't delight us with her twist again, or any other fad dances for that matter. But as compensation she does perform a priceless rendition of  Robert W Service's poem The Shooting of Dan McGrew, which alone makes the movie worth a watch!

The Mob (1951)

The Mob (Dir: Robert Parrish, 1951).

A tough gangster movie-cum-film noir thriller. The Mob stars Broderick Crawford as Johnny Damico, a tough New York cop who poses as a longshoreman to bust up the corrupt union activity polluting the city's dockyards. 

Based upon the novel Waterfront by Ferguson Findlay, The Mob covers similar ground to the more famous On the Waterfront (Elia Kazan, 1954). Pre-dating the latter movie by three years it is more of a pulpy crime drama that Kazan's socially conscience classic. 

In his second outing as director, former editor Robert Parrish has crafted a hard hitting, at time brutal thriller which still packs a considerable punch seven decades later. It is a tough movie, with tough guys talking tough. William Bowers' screenplay is interspersed with some smart hard boiled dialogue, delivered in suitable pithy fashion by the excellent Broderick Crawford.

A year after his Oscar winning performance in All the King's Men (Robert Rossen, 1949) Crawford is dynamite here; perfectly cast as a hard nosed cop, ruthless in his mission to bring down the mob. Also impressing in an early role is Ernest Borgnine as thuggish mobster Johnny Castro. As his right hand man, Neville Brand is equally effective in one of many maniacal bad guy roles. 

Often categerised as a film noir, The Mob feels closer to a gangster film than a true noir; its staccato pacing and overall theme evoking the Warner Brothers mob movies of 1930s. It presents an evocative, shadowy world of backstreets and dive bars populated with shady characters It is surprisingly violent at times, especially in its realistically scrappy fist fights. 

It may not rank among the greatest thrillers of its era, but it is an exciting and engaging minor noir, or rather a gangster movie in noir clothing. Deserving of far more attention than it generally receives, The Mob is neat little crime flick with a cracking screenplay and a first rate cast. To my knowledge, the movies only official home video release is as part of Spain's Columbia Classics range. This may make The Mob a little difficult to source, but it is well worth the effort!

It Came from Outer Space (1953)

It Came from Outer Space (Jack Arnold, 1953).

Famous for their influential horror movies of the 1930, by the 1950s Universal Studios focus had shifted to a different kind of monster movie. Informed by increasing fear of nuclear war and the threat of Communism, seminal sci-fi movies such as This Island Earth (Joseph Newman, 1955) and The Incredible Shrinking Man (Jack Arnold, 1957) helped ligitimise the genre from its previous associated with comicbook serials and kid's Saturday Morning Pictures. The template for these serious minded, paranoia soaked sci-fi features was set with the first and most influential of the series, It Came from Outer Space.

Amateur astronomer John Putnam (Richard Carlson) is the only witness to a spacecraft crash on the outskirts of the small desert town of Sand Rock, Arizona. When his fellow townsfolk start acting suspiciously he expects alien influence. Convincing his girl Ellen (Barbara Rush) and cynical local sheriff (Charles Drake), a posse is assembled to flush out the intruders. Certain that the intelligent aliens are benign and pose no threat, John must keep the angry mob at bay while essential repairs are made to the damaged craft. Failure to do so risks the life of his captured pals. 

Based on an unpublished story by sci-fi maestro Ray Bradbury, It Came from Outer Space is, on the surface, a film about alien invasion. Yet, as with much of the sci-fi of its era, the movie serves as an analogy for the very real post-War fear of Communist infiltration. While acknowledging Bradbury with a story credit, the sole screenplay credit is attributed to Harry Essex. However, it is widely rumoured that he did little more than retype Bradbury’s original treatment, adding FADE IN/FADE OUT where necessary. While this may be an unfair assessment of Essex's contribution it cannot be ignored that the themes and particularly the poetic prose are very much evocative of Bradbury's writing. 

Originally, the alien in its non-human form was to remain unseen. Universal's insistence that the creature appear on camera resulted in some hasty reshoots. In truth, the myopic monster looks a little homemade but this does little to detract from the overall quality of the visual effects; particularly the initial crashlanding which sees the meteor-like craft hurtle at speed toward the audience. Shot and originally exhibited in 3D, the movie is surprisingly light on things being lobbed at the screen, so works just fine when viewed flat. Clifford Stine's beautiful black and white cinematography perfectly captures the eerie isolation of the desert surrounds, giving the impression of a barren alien landscape.  

Director Jack Arnold was a master at this sort of thing. In the hands of a lesser director it may easily have ended up B-movie sci-fi schlock. However, Arnold delivers an intelligent comment on the political and social mores of 1950's America; at its heart a plea for the acceptance of others. He elicits fine performances from a not exactly starry cast, as the drama unfolds with tension mounting pace. The action is drenched in an innovative and influential theremin rich soundtrack which adds to the eerie ambience. 

Although the Communism analogy may be lost on modern audiences, It Came from Outer Space is still an excellent, atmospheric sci fi classic that holds its own against more elaborate sci-fi shockers. If it seems a little cliched at times, this is only because it spawned so many imitations. In its own right the movie is a 50's monster masterpiece and a groundbreaking, original piece of popular cinema. 

One Must Fall (2018)

One Must Fall (Dir: Antonio Pantoja, 2018). 

A low budget, independent horror-comedy, the feature length debut of writer/director Antonio Pantoja. 

Unfairly dismissed from an office job by her creepy boss, single parent Sarah (Julie Streble) is forced to take a position as part of crime scene clean-up crew. When called to the site of a murder in abandoned warehouse, Sarah initially has concerns that the killer is still on the premises. Her fears are confirmed when, one by one, her colleagues start disappearing...

I am not a massive fan of horror and always feel a little out of my depth when I have to write about it. I love a creepy atmosphere in a horror movie but I don’t do so well with gore! One Must Fall is quite gory but it is also very funny. For me, the funnies did go some way to offsetting the grizzlies, although there was the odd moment when I felt compelled to look away from the screen; notably during a clean-up sequence and in the excessively bloody and highly improbable but amusing conclusion. 

Set in the 1980s, this is something that the visuals are not always entirely successful at conveying. The era is reinforced by pop culture references such as vintage Pepsi cans, Walkmans and nods to Janet Jackson and ET. There is also a cheeky anachronistic reference to the Duffer Brothers blockbuster 1980s period Netflix series Stranger Things (2016 - present). Adding authenticity is a neat electronic soundtrack, which recalls John Carpenter's music for his iconic slasher movie Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978).

Director Antonio Pantoja is not afraid to indulge in horror clichés, sometimes ironically, but always effectively. In this he has crafted a loving tribute to the genre's legacy. It lacks the polish of a larger production, but this is no bad thing; the lack of studio sheen lends it an air of 80s slasher movie authenticity. The cast, all of whom were unfamiliar to me, make a game task at juggling the more horrific scenes with some moments of goofy humour. Julie Streble, in particular, is both sympathetic and believable as the kick-butt heroine. 

With credible effects work and some genuine moments of tension One Must Fall should please ardent slasher aficionados. Those of a sensitive nature (like me!) might have second thoughts about watching. Ultimately, the black comedy aspect took the edge off of some of the nastiness and in the moments I wasn't averting my eyes from the screen, I was definitely entertained. 

I was lucky enough to catch a screening of One Must Fall at Southend-on-Sea's Horror-on-Sea Festival 2020. It doesn't appear, as yet, to be widely available. If comedy-horror-slasher movies are your thing this is worth keeping an eye out for!  

As Young as You Feel (1951)

As Young as You Feel (Dir: Harmon Jones, 1951). 

A lightweight comedy from 20th Century Fox which provided an early role for Marilyn Monroe. 

Aged 65 and facing forced retirement, John Hodges (Monty Woolley) blackens his greying hair and beard to pass himself as the younger Harold Cleveland, president of the parent company where the former printer worked. Aiming to overturn the company's ageist policy he successfully fools the boss Louis McKinley (Albert Dekker) who unexpectedly arranges for Hodges to address the local chamber of commerce. His rousing speech attracts the attention of  both the press and the real Cleveland (Minor Watson).

There is something Capra-esq about this tale of an underdog fighting against the system; there are also elements of the screwball comedy in its themes of role reversal and its saturising of big business. Somewhat surprisingly this was based on a story by Paddy Chayefsky. Those familiar with the writer's more acerbic screenplays for The Hospital (Arthur Hiller, 1971) and Network (Sidney Lumet, 1976) will find this satire of a far gentler persuasion. The directorial debut by former editor Harmon Jones, his work here is proficient but unexceptional. Much like the movie itself. Indeed, were it not for an early appearance by Marilyn Monroe, I feel the film would be little remembered today.

A standout in a small yet noticeable role as McKinley's secretary, Monroe was a mere two years away from her stardom cementing appearance in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (Howard Hawks, 1953). Although playing to blonde bombshell type, she displays her considerable comic talents which would become more apparent as the decade progressed. Monty Woolley was always good value for money. Although he isn’t as well served here as in The Man Who Came to Dinner (William Keighley, 1942), his performance as the disgruntled Hodges is still a lot of fun. 

Although it provides a few big laughs, As Young as You Feel is never quite as funny as it threatens to be. At only 75 minutes, it feels distinctly like a support feature, albeit one with a quality cast. That said, it is a pleasant enough viewing experience and is worth watching for its fine comic performances courtesy of the bluff Monty Woolley and the radiant young Marilyn. 

Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (1965)

Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (Dir: Norman Taurog, 1965). 

Released in the UK under the slightly less cumbersome title Dr G and the Bikini Machine, this is a kooky 1960s teen-comedy-cum-spy-spoof from Hollywood’s greatest purveyors of exploitation, American International Pictures (AIP). 

The titular Dr Goldfoot (Vincent Price) has invented a machine for turning out lethal bikini clad robots with which he plans to ensnare the world's wealthiest men, acquire their assets and bump them off, eventually seeking world domination. Stumbling upon the plan are bumbling undercover agent Craig Gamble (Frankie Avalon) and playboy Todd Armstrong (Dwayne Hickman), both unwittingly smitten with humanoid Diane (Susan Hart). The pair face some Edgar Allen Poe worthy tortures as they attempt to infiltrate Goldfoot's lair and bust up his operation.

Any movie that opens with a stop motion animation sequence and a title song by the wonderful Diana Ross and the Supremes is already a winner in my view. The fact that I also have a soft spot for 1960s teen exploitation movies makes me predisposed to like Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine. While not an official entry in AIP's Beach Party series, the movie is something of an offshoot of, or cousin to, the beach movies; taking its cues from both the beach and Bond. Beach Party regulars Annette Funicello and Harvey Lembeck’s Eric Von Zipper can both seen briefly as Goldfoot’s captives in his torture chamber. 

In a non-singing role the talented Frankie Avalon gives the impression of being a much better actor than Hollywood allowed. As his partner in crime-busting Dwayne Hickman, while lacking Frankie’s charisma, makes for a perfectly amiable leading man. The magnificent Vincent Price, meanwhile, happily leaves subtlety in his dressing room and hams it up a treat as the infamous Dr G. 

It’s all very silly and the humour is very broad and incredibly juvenile. Yet, despite what its title may suggest, it all pretty innocent stuff. No movie entitled Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine was ever going to be a plea for feminism but neither is it as rampant with outdated sexism as you might expect. Incredibly, director Norman Taurog is the man who directed Spencer Tracy to Oscar glory in Boys Town (1938)! While this endeavour would not win any awards, Taurog keeps things moving at a rapid pace, with enough whimsical humour and general good vibes as to make it entertaining eye candy, if little else. It also benefits from some nice location footage of San Francisco, albeit mostly achieved through back projection. A high speed chase through the city's Bay Area aboard cars, motorcycles, cable cars and boats is a fun counterpoint to the more famous cinematic San Fransisco car chase of Bullitt (Peter Yates, 1968). All in all it is surprisingly polished for drive-in double feature fodder. 

Legend has it Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine was the first AIP production with a budget upwards of $1 million. Was it worth the money? Clearly AIP though so, as the movie was deemed successful enough to warrant a sequel: Dr Goldfoot and the Girl Bombs (Mario Bava, 1966). The movie is no classic, even by AIP standards. Yet, at time when increasing civil unrest and the Vietnam War were encroaching on teenagers real lives, it is easy to see why escapist fluff such as this was popular. It is a fun time capsule of a more innocent era - at least in teen movies. Fans of beach movies, Bond and 1960s kitsch should find much to enjoy.