W (1974)

Alas, what I have discovered is that with VHS tapes, you cannot capture the screen. So, I am merely left with the illustrious box art. Not bad. Like this movie. Outside of BLUES BROTHERS this is my only Twiggy, as a main actress, movie. This film, released in 1974 is dated, I mean really dated, but the story isn't that bad. It kept my attention and had me guessing until the very end. Even the ending seemed more sick and twisted then I originally thought a PG movie could handle. Despite the horrible beach scenes, there was quite a bit of gold nuggets in this film. Not quite a green mark with stars, but most obviously a pink. I could highly suggest this film to friends and anyone who has a VHS player, this is well worth the time. It was good to see Twiggy within her glory, and this was a decent little film. Surprisingly, it had some meat to it.

Found in my "Videohound 2002" this ends my long run of "W" and now I am onto Punks in Film, with a small 3-round VHS run about to happen. This is going to get interesting. None the less, pink mark for "W", I cannot wait to see if other people choose to check this film out. Well worth it!

The Wages of Fear (1953)

One doesn't just watch The Wages of Fear, one must experience it. The intensity of the truck rides, the expressions and sweat of our characters, the virtual unknown of what lurks next on this road through Hell merely scratches the surface of what to expect from this Clouzot classic. Made in 1953, The Wages of Fear proves that cinema is timeless. This singular film proves that stories told nearly 58 years ago still ... still ... remain as effective today if told with passion, excitement, originality, and most importantly, creativity. From buckling heroes to nervous antagonists, from sandy bars to international hobos, from 1950s bomb to sexual failure, this film, one can proudly say, has everything. Running in the nearly 2.5 hour mark, there is a preconceived notion that French films could not, will not, can not keep a viewer on the edge of the couch. The Wages of Fear proves that theory wrong.

This is not a film about good people. The concept of there being a "diamond" in the rough within The Wages of Fear is difficult to grasp. As one of our characters exits a plane, dressed in a Sunday best suit, the aura of corruption begins to exude. Clouzot surprisingly does something rare in common cinema today, but very effective in this film. He begins deconstructing his characters almost immediately. The first image that begins this conversation shows our anchor Yves Montand possibly in love with a woman who works at the local spot (aka the bar). There is a bizarre, nearly animal-like connection between the two that leads the viewer into assumptions. A mistake one should never make while watching a Clouzot film. Are these two in love? What is their desire? As this question is asked, Clouzot's beautiful wife is heading upstairs with the bar owner, giving us a completely new impression of her worth (see her in Diabolique, please). This continues to happen as the film unfolds. Mario (Montand) finds her annoying and seemingly distraught whenever he and Mr. Jo (our devil in the white suit) are together. This is a small part of a bigger picture, but it remains lucid in the back of your mind as our travels begin.

The journey - to take two truck loads of nitroglycerin nearly 900 miles over rocky terrain. Any slight jarring of the liquid could possibly cause an explosion (or a sudden change in temperature). If that doesn't immediately pull you into the film, I am not sure if you are suited to watching movies. But before these bombs take flight, there are a couple of defining scenes that shape the rest of this thriller. One is the introduction of future long-term friends, Mario & Luigi. Laugh as you must, there must have been someone higher into the brainchild of Nintendo who had recently seen this film. The similarities (as backwards as they may seem) are eerie. Secondly, Mr. Jo. To this viewer, he was one of the most compelling characters of this film. A high-roller with nice suits and flashy money coupled with an arrogant attitude, that fits within the deconstruction theory mentioned earlier. In one scene he is ready to shoot Luigi, in the next, running scared up a mountain. Who is Mr. Jo? With a lacking back story, he begins as a big fish in a small pond, but ultimately ends as nothing more than just another rat infesting the city. Weird.

Rounding out this group of "misfits" is a muscle-man named Bimba, whose fear is shown immediately as our group begins the journey. It is his reaction to a nearly dropped canister of nitroglycerin that sets the tone for the rest of the truck ride. His eyes, his shoulders, his fear just comes through the screen as he drops his glass - giving us the sense of realism and danger instantly.

For nearly two-hours, Clouzot keeps us in the trucks. With side shots and infamous close ups to our drivers, we are given a claustrophobic story complete with a bomb. The road is jagged, the danger is unknown, and all we have as viewers is what our characters give to us - and that is all we need. Instantly, the roles are reversed. Mr. Jo, our hot-headed juggernaut, begins to crumble. The idea of having so much danger strapped to the back of your car is too much for him to take within the first fifteen minutes. He is sick, sweating, and scared to accelerate even when life depends on it. His original layer of "bad-ass" has been wiped away, and his true colors (thanks Cyndi Lauper) shine through. What makes this interesting is that Luigi's character jumps in where Mr. Jo fails. That introduction, semi-bad blood scene that started this film takes fuller shape. The quintessential glass being half-empty or half-full falls into their lap. Luigi isn't afraid to push the truck, while Mr. Jo consistently stops, questioning his ability to go further. In one scene, he scampers away like a scared dog, showing us that muscles and money do not always equate to self-confidence.

My question to you: Which of these faces would your rather have jetting through the thick of a mountain? The dark Luigi, or the smoking Mario (yep, explosives are still riding behind him in this shot)? As bridges fall, rocks block, and oil sinks, it is up to the drivers to bring us to our destination. Which do you think makes it?

Danger lurks everywhere in this film. It isn't just two trucks repeating themselves from one destination to the next, Clouzot provides just enough tricks to keep audiences guessing until the very end. We are not given pre-destined characters from the start. Nobody is defined as the sole winner of this mission. From the opening credits, I did not see each event unfolding, nor did I see the different situations. As modern Hollywood spoon feeds each scene to you, Clouzot did an amazing job of giving us the same spots, but with different results. Especially when it came to the oil-slicked ending. Or rather, the less emotionally attached finale. That will pull your mind further into this tale. The sudden de-appreciation for two central character. Clouzot doesn't extend the inevitable, he merely says to his audience, "That is how life is..." Rather nonchalant and ominous together. The photo below represents one of my favorite scenes. Outside of the Criterion created iconic image of the two men, drenched in oil, looking as if life has handed them a knuckle sandwich, the bridge scene takes the cake. The beauty of the first pass, knowing what dangers lurk, to the devilish second pass, with egos and unknowns taking the wheel. Not only is it beautifully filmed, but within that one scene (two if you are counting), but we learn the most of our characters in one instance. Showing the value of Clouzot, but also the story AND the power of our actors.

I must warn about this film, not in a negative sense, but merely quality control. The original Criterion version of this film, the cover contains the infamous oil scene, is a horrible transfer and disastrously translated. I had the unique opportunity to watch both, and the newer release (I believe the original is out of print) is by far a stronger quality than the latter. Not only with visuals, but merely the dialogue seems less wooden. I am glad the revisited this film and gave it a stronger quality release that it so deserved.

Overall, in case you were reading a completely different blog, I loved this film. I already know several people who will find this gift waiting for them this year. The Wages of Fear is one of those films you want other people to experience, you want them to be on the edge of their seat, waiting to see the pipe-less adventures of Mario & Luigi. I cannot wait to watch this film again. The experience, the horror, the fears, the explosions - it just had everything a modern cinematic wonder would obviously lack. It impresses me that films without technology still rank as stronger films. The ultimate question being, has technology really helped us improve our movie-going experience. Could you imagine The Wages of Fear in 3D? Disgusting. This was a brilliant slice of movie making. Found in my "Videohound 2002" book, this nearly wraps up my Ws and I am headed to the world of anarchy, piercings, and punks. Full steam ahead. Blue stars with green highlight all the way!!

Wag the Dog (1997)

Can a movie created in the late 90s still speak to a voting audience in the late 2000s? Prior to "Wag the Dog" my answer would be "no", but watching, and now re-watching it for a second time in the past week, this film could be watched today, watched next year, or even watched prior to the next four elections, and it would continue to feel current, real, and modern in today's political/cinematic world. The power of the dialogue, the intense chemistry of the characters, and the constant interruption of the television generation into the political world will continue to keep "Wag the Dog" out of the black hole of cinema – it will not be dated, never forgotten, and forever enjoyed. As we continue to allow CNN to give us our news, this film will remain as vivid as America's apple pie.
Act I: The Chemistry of the Characters

Robert DeNiro and Dustin Hoffman could play chess for three hours, and it would capture my attention from beginning to end. DeNiro is a powerhouse of an actor, not just because he can play the tough gangster type, but also because he can take a character like Brean and give us simple, verbose, and intelligent.
His range can be seen throughout this film. He commands each scene that he is in, focusing our attention on each of his words and lingering on his next move. In my eyes, it is more powerful than "Goodfellas" or "Casino" because of his subtle nature. The scene that stands out for me in "Wag the Dog" that requires viewing for DeNiro's talent is that between CIA Agent William H. Macy and DeNiro discussing the honesty of the war on Albania. To me, this shows the power of his talent.

Jumping onto the other side of this film, there is Dustin Hoffman. While DeNiro pulls his obvious strengths with this film, Hoffman makes "Wag the Dog" more than just a political film. Listening to the commentary, Hoffman discusses the fact that he nearly didn't make this film because he couldn't find Motss's character. Thankfully he did, due to his compelling portrayal; we are taken from political conspiracy cinema to this raw human drama. The final act was sublime due to both DeNiro and Hoffman's chemistry, but also because we believed Motss' words. As audience members, we wanted to see him tell his story (knowing that he never would). It was the human element, the Motss' true self, that we were drawn to, and Hoffman stayed true to those moments until the very end. This isn't your typical Hollywood happy film, this basis itself on – albeit conspiracies – but honest conspiracies. Could you survive the greatest hoax ever and promise not to tell a soul? Surrounding these characters, we had Willie Nelson, Denis Leary, Anne Heche, Kirsten Dunst, William H. Macy, John Michael Higgins, and – who could forget – Woody Harrelson. These are our players, and they take us from scene to scene with the greatest of ease.

Act II: The Writing & the Directing

David Mamet. Does anything else need to be said? Having been a full time follower of his work, I was not surprised to see that it was his quick-witted words coming from our characters' mouths. It is the fast-paced level of intellectual banter that transforms "Wag the Dog" into the powerhouse that it is. It works because you finish watching the characters actions and it is the words you find yourself quoting for weeks after.
Mamet's political punch to this film was reminiscent of Kubrick's ideas behind "Dr. Strangelove". The two were films that were absurd, but it was also the ideals that they were satirizing that makes both viewable today; just as powerful as they were when they were released. Mamet's words with Barry Levinson's direction takes "Wag the Dog" into perfection. There are no heroes, there are no villains, and we know so little about the characters that it is simply the story, or the words, that pull us into this film. The beats are hit, the angles are crisp and tight, and our characters are perfection – possibly the best casting in years. With this in mind, we have only the third act remaining – cause, as everyone knows – there is always a third act!

Act III: The Final Thought

Overall, "Wag the Dog" is perfect. Very few films in my eyes fully carry the honor of being watchable at any time, any decade, or any political year – but "Wag the Dog" does. Watching with a group of friends, I was surprised as to how many had not seen this feature, remembering that it had been birthed nearly 11 years ago, it still seemed surprising. "Wag the Dog" overturns those political conspiracy theories and makes you laugh, think, and realize the impact of our commercial media.

It was enjoyable to hear the current terms like "plumber" and "commercial president" in this 1997 film, boasting the truth that this film was made before its time. Looking back, there are those that could complain about our premise being too cliché, that the same conspiracy theories have been done again and again, but to me, this was fresh. This entire film was fast-paced, amazingly acted, and media driven. In the commentary, it is talked about how it is rumored that the media doesn't even check sources any further, and this is a glowing example of that regime.



Another old review found, but now never forgotten. Found many years ago, this film still gets a green mark with blue stars. I will always revisit "Wag the Dog" whenever time permits itself. Brilliant.

WR: Mysteries of the Organism (1971)

The American Dream is Dead.

Philosophical film. Each scene, side by side, brings upon new sensations, new bold images, political messages, honest truths about our culture all with the underlining sexual messages that make "WR: Mysteries of the Organism" more than just your average documentary. Released in 1972 overseas and deeply rooted within art-house cinemas, "WR" is not a film for mass audiences, though; one could argue that it carries more honest truths today than it did when originally conceived. Watching it today, in 2008, nearly thirty-six years later, it is difficult to watch. Not that there is anything wrong with this cult masterpiece, it is a film that is not as "modern" with its voice as it is with its message. As I do believe that this is an important film to watch, it may not initially show itself to you right away. Like myself, it took nearly two viewings to fully understand the scope of "WR: Mysteries of the Organism" - nearly the same viewings that it took when originally watching "8 ½" or even "Obscure Object of Desire" - it isn't a film for just afternoon viewing - prepare yourself for cinematic intelligence on a grand scale. This film forces you to think, look within the images, to break outside of your mold, and forces yourself out comfort zone. This is "WR: Mysteries of the Organism", who would want anything else.
How deep does psychology have to go? As the film asks this question, it feverously jumps from an American visual to a Yugoslavia political. We go from our Reich-ian feminist who is in love with the ice-skater, to the simple stroll of our Warhol performer in New York, than haphazardly back to the demonstration in Yugoslavia. As our sexual moments continue throughout, Makavejev uses them wisely (and symbolically) to make political and individual statements. It is this juxtaposition that makes this film bold and expressive; growing into more than just your average "I am Curious" moment. As any of our scenes nearly climax (literally and figuratively), Makavejev takes the moment to pull us back into the "why" of the scene. It isn't American cinema, in which skin is used to fill theater seats, there is a point to the sex, and just as we think there is no rhyme to the reason, we are pulled back into Makavejev's flamboyant mind. In essence, he is answering the age old question, "do sex and politics really mesh"? Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he pulls away the carpet giving us more than the original tantalizing scenes, but replacing them with horror and grotesque ... again - with a point. To stress again why "Mysteries of the Organism" demands more than one viewing (nearly right after the initial viewing) is because it isn't just your average entertainment only film, Makavejev has put himself within the feature - giving us a short glimpse of personal ideals, sexual exploits, and the power of politics ... all within only about 85 minutes. It is enough to give anyone a headache, but also excitement for what was missed.



Orgon Therapy? Madness or Sane formulations? "WR" questions Reich's ideals through faux-cinema and a sense of documentary styles. While some of the history is shown through factual images, i.e. Stalin as a symbol of sex, it is the directed images that really add the value to "Mysteries of the Organism". The drama of the characters that are represented demonstrate real life - the choices made and the consequences that follow. It is more than just a handful of powerful scenes ... it is the option for viewers to discuss, have opinions, and agree/disagree. As I throw out these random thoughts of this film, it only seems to fit that of our director. This is not a linear film, but consistent imagery posted with symbolism. Listening to the audio commentary, it seems to add the glue to these random tangents. Criterion's addition of Richard Durgnat's words (read by Daniel Stewart), help the free-associated viewer deal with the deeper changes and movements within the film. Overall, Criterion's addition of this film to its collection continues to show their excitement towards groundbreaking cinema, nearly forgotten through the modern CGI-explosive cinema bombarded today, "WR: Mysteries of the Organism" is difficult to watch, nearly too smart for my initial view - it is challenging because of the bold words, the wild symbolism, and that wild scene that uses the song "Kill for Peace". Whew, perhaps this paragraph was random thoughts, but it seems to work with this feature.


Overall, in hopes not to bore the average reader, "WR: Mysteries of the Organism" is part black comedy, documentary, political collage, philosophical essay, and a bit of science fiction. While these words hardly scratch the surface of what "WR" has to offer, this film is bizarre in a phenomenal way. This isn't your average art-house picture, but instead a film that demands debate and pulls you within the film - pushing your mind, focusing your eyes, and challenging your intelligence. Using political scenes that are dated, Criterion's release gives you the opportunity to explore from different angles, so that you can see the universal language that "WR" uses. This is a challenging film. It seems to be pulling from every genre, in a way that is difficult to explain. The final scene of this film still remains in my mind, the stern Stalin image that leads us into a darker world. I still don't think I fully understand what Makavejev was trying to say, but what astonished me about this film is that I didn't want to just put it aside. "WR" pulls you, it yanks at your heartstrings, it opens your eyes, and one viewing is never enough for such a subtle (or is it?) engrossing film. While it would not be for everyone, it still remains relevant today, and I am excited that Criterion has chosen to add it to their collection. "Mysteries of the Organism" is an excellent film for those angered by the idiosyncratic destinies of Hollywood.

This is an old review, and no changes have been made upon watching it again. Green mark with blue stars - this is one of those films that if I showed for FILM CLUB, well, I don't think I would have many left sitting when it was done. Yet, I thought it was powerful and challenging, just what every good film should be.

Wagon Master (1950)

Done prior to learning how to capture images, this John Ford film is great. The Mormon history is amazing to learn, and Ford captures this along with bringing new elements [those not of the same faith]. I would watch this movie again. It was fun to watch, but not the greatest slice of western cinema. Pink mark. I think my standards are getting too high. Found in my "Videohound 2002".

WUSA (1970)

To say that WUSA is a hot movie would be an understatement. From our opening scenes of a Mardi Gras festival about to begin to the constant perspiration of our central characters, WUSA not only visually puts us deep into the South, but physically places us there as well. WUSA represents one of those internal films that is difficult for the American populace to swallow. It is a film about race. It is a film about prejudice. It is a film about individual self. As WUSA opens, it is quiet. The festival is about to begin, and like the audience, there is a looming sense of unknown. What is this movie about? Why is it quoted as his "favorite" by Paul Newman? With the last question lingering on your tongue, it begins. The parade yells, the people destroy, and Newman's Rheinherdt stumbles, literally, into town. Like a gunslinger just passing through, Newman is armed with merely a thermos full of liquor, a conservative mind, and a past that takes nearly two hours to undress.



So it begins. WUSA's central protagonist is discovered, but unlike the typical linear film, two other determined, emotionally challenged characters walk into the quintessential bar. One, a man with a slight studder who believes he is working for the Welfare system, the other, a homeless woman with a scar just trying to get a good meal for the evening. As both of these (as well as Newman) walk through the streets of Louisiana, it quickly becomes hotter. Newman, hugging his thermos like it is his personal protector, stumbles into Joanne Woodward, and together a spark in the heat is developed. Meanwhile, Anthony Perkins surveys the other side of the South. The questionable ethics of the Welfare system is discovered, and what already feels like your sitting on the sun, suddenly explodes. The visuals that director Stuart Rosenberg brings to the table are nearly that of von Trier's chaotic images of America. They are bold, beautiful, sad, triumphant, and debilitating to the mind all at the same time. He not only uses actors to take on the roles of those with needs, but also inserts fantastic in-time photos of life in the South. Images have that 1,000 word opportunity:



Racial moments, scratching for an opportunity to breathe, the heat of the South all swirl together to bring you the backbone of this film, but there is another element trying to peak from beneath the sheets. That is our title character. Our radio station WUSA who pushes the envelope of suspense and quickly transforms into our villainous cohort. Rosenburg isn't afraid to demonstrate how evil this radio station is with an iconic shot that had to be reported. Check out this pre-Guy Ritchie scene that just leaks cool and pushes the boundaries of this little independent unknown.


This is a film that speaks about its audience, not to it. As we listen to the pit-bull owner of the station talk about big things, about the change in their dynamic, and decidedly about Newman's role in the upcoming rally, the words speak about the media today. They open the window towards the future, and WUSA takes on a whole new shape as the speaker of not just racism in the media, but also the role media will play in accordance with news. As the heat continues to grow, our characters cannot help but become further intertwined. As the community speaks about the horrors of WUSA, Perkins pushes himself onto Newman, questioning his very words. Newman in turn continues to drink, and falls into the arms of Woodward, who feels more like a child of the 60s then a genuine character. Despite her inability to bring emotions or full lines to the surface, she looks good making this picture, and matches well with Newman's startling blue eyes (which is why they worked in real life as well).



With fans blowing cool ice, hippies living next door, the inevitable picture explodes before us. To continue to use words that are heat induced, it only compliments this film. There is a tense scene over drinks and drugs on a hot night as Newman argues semantics with Perkins, pushing the envelope of truth and discovering the two sides to this pot boiling story. Then, the event happens.

Originally outsourced as a huge, life-changing event slowly transforms into lifeless blubber and a disappointing finale that couldn't match that of the early intensity. Newman mutters his way until the final credits, giving a very slight indication of what life looked like. The surprise with Perkins and the continued misguidance of Woodward, merely add to this limber ending. WUSA had the balls to become a very timely and still relevant film, but this ending flounded any possiblities.

I wanted to like this film, and in the end I am thankful that I saw it. Up through the first 3/4ths of this movie, I was standing in front of a hot stove on summer waiting for the American Pie to be ready, but in the end, all I had was a burnt mess of what could have been a joyous eating experience. Paul Newman, despite the ending, was amazing. Pulling from a young Marlon Brando vs. the Newman career that existed prior to his death. Joanne Woodward was beautiful, and together their chemistry was not bounded by the film, while Anthony Perkins gave us a startling truth about religion, persona, and values. Rosenburg's direction was tight and scenes just oozed beauty. Watch where his camera finds its shots. Plenty of close-ups and under the table shots, continuing to give us that moment of honest coupled with cramp living quarters. Again, this was a hot film and Rosenburg never let us forget that. The side stories remained invaluable, while the ending is what lost me.


Overall, this was a great film, but could have been a bit tighter by the end. Found in my "Videohound 2002" book, this will sadly get a pink highlight. Liked it, but didn't love it merely due to the ending. This was, and still is a powerful film, but unlike "Mississippi Burning", it just doesn't have that BAM! ending to it that leaves your jaws on the floor and honesty in your mind. I could easily suggest this film, but not watch again. What this film made me realize is that I need to see more young Paul Newman, more Joanne Woodward, and more more more Anthony Perkins, the man who did live outside of Psycho.

Quality Street (1937)

Quality Street: The Use and Misuse of the Comedic Switch

Reaching deeply into the Warner Brothers Archive, my arm easily grabbed a little film from the late 30s which boasted a start that was considered "box-office poison" as well as a comedic story that felt dated and painfully convoluted. Katherine Hepburn, easily one of the most iconic leading ladies in cinema, was at one time considered the worst choice to headline a feature film. Quality Street was smack in the hayday of Hepburn's downward trend [despite her soon upward mobility]. Despite the beauty that she brings to the screen, despite the emotion that she can muster even for a comedic role, Hepburn is a flaw with this film. Was her title of "box-office poison" not as premature as we may think? Is it her, or merely the lacking material she had to work with? As we look further into Quality Street, we will need to dissect both the comedy of the scenes as well as the elements that Hepburn brought to distinguishing Miss Livvy from Miss Phoebe. For those unaware of the tremulous story behind Quality Street it surrounds a love between an aging woman and a man who has chosen the Army instead of marriage. It is about a love that is 10-years old and the choice of beauty over person. Dr. Brown returns within that time span and to Phoebe's misunderstanding, believes he would prefer the younger version of her own self [she has just turned 30 and weakly describes the downward spiral from 29 to 30]. So, instead of confronting Dr. Brown with her feelings, she spends over an hour devising a plan where her alter-ego, Miss Livvy, is her exciting, younger version of herself. She goes out, she has fun, she shows Dr. Brown, as well as others from the Army, what a young woman is like. Like all films of this nature, the crux comes with the inability to be in two places at once, and slowly Phoebe's plan becomes too difficult to handle.Slowly, the film begins to unravel. Not only do our creators make our actors run to continue the rouse, but they weight down the final act, giving us less realism and more absurdity to wrap up this tall tale. Our characters are forgotten merely to put an end to the farce. Does this work? No. By the end, it is unclear as to why love exists at all. It is unclear as to why Dr. Brown went through the entire ordeal at all. It is unclear as to why he brings this sign from outside [the only job these two women have to support themselves] and tells Susan (the older sister) to use it as firewood. It is the fogginess of these elements that create confusion instead of excitement as our two love-birds finally embrace.Adding to this mix is a group of sinister spinster who show no passion for anyone except for gossip. They seem hell-bent on finding out the truth, no matter what friendship is hurt in the process.These batty old women [who are genuinely old], are placed as the comic relief of this film. They are added to create further tension and as an outside "evil" element against our heroine Phoebe. What should have come across as funny, just transforms into annoying as these three find themselves everywhere they plausibly could not be. Dances, sneaking inside the house, random placement, these women are interjected, not story driven, thus nagging on Hepburn's back instead of adding to her comedic peril. Add to this mix another larger, plump man [one of only four within this entire film] who uses the wink to spook these women who believe love is the work of the devil, yet cannot seem to fathom why they do not have men themselves. It is a less engaging process, only dumbfounded by the fact that nobody is funny. Agreed that it is tense, but funny it is not.

Obviously, from these photos. Miss Livvy is the only available woman for the Army to enjoy. Geesh.

This leads to three final elements on why/how Quality Street remains good, but fails to be great. The first being that Phoebe actually courts other men. There are a group of soldiers who are all vying for the prize of Miss Livvy's heart, and the wake of Phoebe's uninstructed idea there are more that find themselves hurt than Phoebe's attempts for love. The above laughing man is caught in a moment, little does he know, the walls are about to crumble down upon him. The next has to be with the logistics of this story. It was originally a play developed and written by J.M "Mr. Peter Pan" Barrie himself, but transformed into a film there are just too many cinematic plot holes that can be forgotten in the stage setting. The third and final discuss the idea of what Hepburn must do to solidify her character. She needs to be two different people. She does not do this.Notice the shot in this photo above. This is the big surprise at the end, the idea to end all ideas that provides less laughs but instead an end to a long-winded tunnel of cinema. For those at home unaware of how Hepburn transforms from Miss Livvy into the aging Miss Phoebe, it involves less makeup, but instead a mere night cap. When Hepburn's hair is covered, she looks wicked old, but when she is the young & the restless, she puts her hair up and regains that spring in her step. The average person would not see the difference, but thankfully, the Doctor - the man who uses his eyes for surgery - cannot see any problems. Arg, if only he was watching this movie.

Despite the push for patriotism early within Quality Street, I can see why this film never made it as a full blown DVD release. Actually, what Quality Street did for me was realize that the Warner Archive has much much to offer. This is my second film I have watched from that collection, and while this wasn't as impressive, seeing Hepburn in a less flattering role helps solidify her as a less bankable star. She had troubles, just like those actors today who find themselves doing the forth sequel for the money. Quality Street is no Blithe Spirit, and I feel like the two shouldn't fit together - but there are "play" elements that fit. I thought about Blithe while watching this because of the simplicity, and how it ruined this film but empowered Blithe. Ok, I realize that was a random tangent for the end, but it just flew together.

Overall, I was mediocrely impressed with this film. It had potential, but ultimately focused on the wrong parts to make it a detailed comedy. The use of the switch was horrible, thus causing the remaining framework to crumble behind. A long time coming, but this was found in my "Videohound 2009" book. This ends the Qs, which was a middle of the road battle for me. This is getting a pink mark. Good, but not great. I could suggest this to friends who enjoyed the age of the film, but sadly, it just didn't fully work for me.

How about those pictures?