An Ideal Husband (1947)

 "I don't know that women are always rewarded for being charming. I think they are usually punished for it."

I thought I knew An Ideal Husband, having read the play several times when I was younger. Let us say that it feels very different, and much less of a straightforward comedy, in my middle age. But perhaps that's also a result of seeing the film rather than reading it.

There are, of course, many witty lines, several of which I remembered. But this is, at its heart, a serious tale of blackmail and integrity. Indeed, we are reminded that, despite the milieu of balls, "society", the "season" and the London of the upper classes centred on Grosvenor Square that are the focus of this and other plays, Oscar Wilde was himself, despite his aestheticism, rather left wing in his views.

The focus of the film is Sir Robert's dark secret, an act of financial impropriety done in his youth. Yet, as he tells Lord Goring, who has never wanted for anything, poverty- even the genteel type- is crushing, overwhelming. Without wealth, there can be no freedom. The script notably takes a forgiving view of Sir Robert, who ultimately goes unpunished. Mrs Cheveley, whose sins do not have the excuse of poverty, does not get such understanding, although it is notable that the film ends with her free to prey on others.

The film is mostly a straightforward and well-acted version of the play, allowing the performances and Wilde's words to carry the film. Michael Wilding is particularly good. A very young Glynis Johns also impresses. Yet I was intrigued to see the opening narration, introducing the world of 1895 and "society", only fifty years before the film was made- as the 1970s are to us- but a world away from an existence of rationing, Indian independence and the setting up of the Welfare State.

This may be a straightforward telling of the play, for the most part. But, with Wilde, that's no bad thing.

The Vault of Horror (1973)

 "No money in horror..."

I've seen lots of Amicus portmanteau horror films by now and enjoyed them all to a greater or lesser extent. This is easily the best of the lot.

Partly it's that this time around the tales are all splendidly gleeful in their ghoulish bad taste as the five men who enter the lift each receive their magnificently grand guignol comeuppance. A greedy murderer ends up having blood dispensed from his neck like wine from a wine box. An obsessively nagging husband who insists on neatness has his organs neatly displayed in jars after driving his wife to murder. An insurance fraudster is buried alive and meets his death. And so on, all amongst the most '70s clothing and interior decor that has ever been immortalised in film. 

It helps that Roy Ward Baker imbues the film with some visually witty touches, such as our insurance fraudster reading a novelisation of Tales from the Crypt, to which this is a semi-sequel. The script, too, is wittier and more gleeful this time round.

Yet what really makes this film shine, well-made as it is, is a superb cast full of the sort of well-known character actors who (Terry-Thomas aside) were not quite stars at the time. Standout performances from Glynis Johns and a splendidly vengeful, bizarrely bearded and deeply charismatic Tom Baker are a huge part of the film's success- and a success it is: I care not for the views po-faced contemporary critics.

The Card (1952)

 "Oh, indeed. I thought you were a gentleman."

Ealing comedies are always fun to watch, lightly amusing and very well-acted and made, but they're also deceptively clever beneath the surface and have something to say, and this is no exception.

I've never read the original novel by Arnold Bennett, or indeed anything by him; I'm afraid this is essentially because he's been unfashionable ever since Virginia Woolf slagged him off. However, the script here is quite wonderful, a nice little light-hearted film of an unscrupulous yet somehow charming man who uses sneakiness and trickery to get on in life, but remains likeable enough for us to root for the loveable rogue, a difficult balancing act. Alec Guinness seems born to play the part, and his performance is triumphant- charismatic, broad and nuanced all at once, in a part where he not only stars but literally carries the whole film. 

Glynis Johns is also utterly magnificent and has perfect comic timing as a cheekily seductive femme fatale, and it's fun to see a minor role for Joan Hickson, many years before Miss Marple, still looking somewhat old.

This is a wonderful comedy of class, gentle greed and Edwardian social mores, but rings true today with its depiction of the sort of person who tends to end up rich and land on their feet. It's all very cleverly plotted and charms the viewer with the machinations of its loveable rogue. Not, perhaps, quite up there with the the best Ealing comedies, but a wonderfully fun way to spend ninety minutes.

Batman: The Bloody Tower

“And don’t forget to drive on the left!”

I liked the previous two episodes- fun, silly and utterly bonkers. But this final part is the most wonderful yet- although we should perhaps first pause to mark the final (brief) appearance by Madge Blake, by now very ill indeed, as Aunt Harriet.

The episode is as laugh-out-loud as any of its predecessors. I love the emphasis on "Londinium"'s supposed fog- in reality dealt with by the Clean Air Act of 1952 but as late as 1967 the old reputation persists. We also have a whiff of suspicion from Batman as he notes that both Alfred and Robin seem to know a lot more about Batgirl than he does- although later, when coming into possession of Batgirl's briefcase, he declines to open it and discover her identity. Honour among crimefighters and that.

This is enormous fun, from Lord Ffogg divulging the plot to steal the Crown Jewels to Batgirl while she’s in a death trap as is traditional to the silly unconvincing bee with an obviously visible thread. It’s also hilarious how Robin survives the deadly sting courtesy of his utility belt, only to face even direr peril- randy teenage girls. And that’s before we even get to Batman escaping the dungeon by means of the Indian rope trick. Better still, the Dynamic Duo surprise the baddies at the Tower by... dressing as Beefeaters. This final episode is the crowning jewel in a fun three parter which really catches fire at the end.

But this is Season Three, and after a phone call from President Johnson (what’s all that about his grandson?) it’s on to the next threat... a new Catwoman!

Batman: The Foggiest Notion

"You ogress! You vixen!"

We get more of the same this week, with everything now established. Again, the plot progresses nary an inch, but we get loads of fun set pieces and fun with stereotypes. Lord Ffog is under suspicion throughout, and Lady Peasoup known to be running a school for lady pilferers, but no one seems to be in much of a hurry to deal with them directly, instead heading of to the pub (I like how young Robin isn't allowed in) to prevent a robbery of miniskirts aimed at "the dominions". Britain here- sorry, Londinium- is a hilarious cross of Olde Worlde stereotypes and the Swinging Sixties.
Groovy, m'lord.

We get a pub brawl. We get Tower Bridge used as a deathrap although, sadly, this season doesn't end episodes with cliffhangers. We get a brief contractual appearance from Chief O'Hara. Rather more interestingly, Batman begins to suspect that Alfred knows things about Batgirl in this episode. Most hilariously of all, Lord Ffog has a device to wipe Batman's memory- but the Londinium Batcave naturally has a "Recollection Cycle Bat Restorer".

The next episode promises to be fun, too. I suspect, being the final episode of the story, it may also actually contain some plot. But frankly, who cares. This may not be clever, it may not be the best story ever, but it's fresh and fun.

Batman: The Londinium Larcenies

“Is Batman up against a sticky wicket?”

Well, this is completely unlike any previous episode. It's utterly, utterly mad, and very silly> No, it's not going to be competing for the title of best ever, but it's a charming bit of fun.

This is, of course, both Batman coming to England and also nothing of the sort. Batman is best when having fun with the fourth wall, and so naturally he visits not London, a real city of mortgages, car insurance and other such mundanities, but Londinium, a city of fog, bobbies and aristocratic baddies in deerstalkers. This is not a representation of England, but of its tropes and stereotypes, and setting the episode in "Londinium" allows that remove from dull reality.

Hence we have "Chuckingham Palace" and "Ireland Yard". We have Superintendent Watson, named afer you-know-who, with the script delightfully nodding to the fact that his office is the same set as Commissioner Gordon's with a couple of stereotypical additions. We have larger than life baddies in the dodgily accented Lord Marmaduke Ffog and the wonderful Lady Penelope Peasoup, who run a finishing school for lady thieves and plot to steal the Crown Jewels. We have a dodgy Cockney butler, and an ersatz ex-dungeon Batcave.

It's all delightful, and I don't care if the plot advances not a jot or, this being Season Three, there's no real cliffhanger: this is fun. I love ho Batman's deductions in the Superintendent's office makes no sense, how one of the three thugs who attack the Dynamic Duo has an accent echoing Dick Van Dyke, and Lord Ffog's monocle. More please.

Mary Poppins (1964)

“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!”

 

Yes, I really am doing this. All these horrors and I go and blog Mary Poppins. What can I say? It amuses me. I won’t pretend this sort of thing is usually my cup of tea, but I actually rather enjoyed it. In fact, I’m full of regrets about waiting until the age of almost thirty-six to see it. This is the perfect film for children, with everything about it firing the imagination of the child within us all. It’s forever deriving fantasy from the mundane and ordinary. A simple bag becomes a magical repository of all things. You can jump into pictures and become a cartoon. Plus there are songs and that. Julie Andrews is captivating as our heroine, and her voice is extraordinary.

The one thing everyone knows about this film is that Dick Van Dyke’s “cockney” accent is said to be awful by all. In fact, it is far more jaw-droppingly atrocious than I would have had the power to imagine. I would be very much surprised if this were not the worst accent in the history of cinema. Having said all that, I worry that I may have underestimated just how bad it is! It’s a pity. Van Dyke is actually pretty good when it comes to the actual acting, giving us a likeable and charismatic Bert, but you’re far too busy laughing at the accent to take any notice of what he’s doing.

This is very much a tourist friendly version of London and, for that matter, a version of 1910 which has been sanitised for the children of the 1960’s. Knowing that this is a Disney film I was looking for reactionary sentiments throughout, which was an interesting exercise. One of our first songs appears to mock the Suffragette movement, and the character of Bert portrays the hard life of Edwardian poverty as not only bearable but positively fun. This may appear to show conservative attitudes to both gender and class issues, but, these are interestingly subverted at the end, where Mr Banks’ patriarchal authority is undermined by both of these things.

The whole look of the film is a bit of a jolt after so many more modern films in a row. The tanned faces, the technicolour picture quality and the matte painting backgrounds give the film a retro charm that contemporary audiences would have never seen.

Mary Poppins herself is a force of nature. Yes, we see this in her interaction with the children, but the best moments for the character are those in which she wraps Mr Banks right round her finger. She is, essentially, the perfect Edwardian woman- unflappable, infinitely capable, sexless, and maintaining the very stiffest of upper lips in the silliest and most surreal of circumstances. This, of course, is what makes her so damned charismatic.

Some of the social attitudes are fascinating. It’s only 1964, but the film shows a strangely modern hostility to fox hunting. I never knew, though, that apparently foxes can be Irish! I raised an eyebrow, given the bastardry of banks in recent years, at their negative portrayal in this film. A run on a bank is a rather more alarming thing to see nowadays than it would have been at the time.

This film is quite, quite mad. We have an Admiral who keeps his house like a ship and shoots at chimney sweeps. We have a carousel where one can ride the horses away. We have animated fireworks that look like something out of Yellow Submarine. We even have an Englishman who pronounces “niche” as “nitch”. Grrrrr! The ending is simultaneously reinforcing of the patriarchal family structure and subversive of it, a nice touch. Mary Poppins buggers off as the wind changes: this apparently orderly and conservative figure is, underneath, capricious and chaotic, and brings whimsy to all she touches. I never thought I’d say this, but I love this film.