Lights of Old Broadway (1925)

Director: Monta Bell
Writer: Carey Wilson, from the play Merry Wives of Gotham by Laurence Eyre, with titles by Joseph W. Farnham
Stars: Marion Davies and Conrad Nagel

Index: That's a Wrap!

“Some of us are born to be lucky...”, says the opening intertitle, “and others are lucky to be born.” That’s Joseph Farnham earning his pay for titles already. Marion Davies plays both, as a pair of sisters orphaned on board a ship on its way to New York and fostered by different parents at opposite ends of the social scale.

We quickly leap past childhood so Anne De Rhonde can be “petite and perfectly bred” at a choice address in Washington Square but Fely O’Tandy, the sister she doesn’t know she has, only “rough, roguish and Irish” down in the ethnic slums.

There’s more opportunity for Davies in Fely so naturally we concentrate on her, beginning with her climbing to the top of a ridiculously large stack of tables in the street, then tipping them over, miraculously sustaining only a few bruises in the process.

Go West (1925)

Director: Buster Keaton
Writers: Buster Keaton and Lex Neal, from a scenario by Raymond Cannon
Star: Buster Keaton

Index: That's a Wrap!

The second of Buster Keaton’s two features for 1925, Go West is a far more subtle film than Seven Chances, or indeed any of his earlier full length films. I’m used to suggesting words like “frantic”, “acrobatic” and “impressive”. None of those spring to mind here. I’d offer “slow”, “calm” and “gentle”, at least until the finalé.

That finalé involves Buster dressed in red as a devil to lead a herd of cows through the city of Los Angeles to the stockyards. It reminds a great deal of the finalé to Seven Chances, where his pursuers were would-be brides—a different meat market, I guess—but it’s initially slower, gaining pace only when he finds the costume.

Until then, it’s gentle comedy performed at a gentle pace, the best scene the first one, still in the east. Buster plays Friendless, the credits tell us, and it’s a fair name. The shopkeeper he meets as we start certainly isn’t his friend and neither is anyone else at any point in the film. Well, except Brown Eyes, who plays herself.

The Mafu Cage (1978)

Director: Karen Arthur
Writer: Don Chastain, based on the play Toi et Tes nuages by Éric Wesphal, translated into English by Richard Cottrell
Stars: Lee Grant and Carol Kane

Index: 2025 Centennials.

The Mafu Cage is an American film that was widely seen in Europe but little seen at home. I can see why, because it’s a very European film, indeed one based on a French play. I can also see why Jerry Gross, a distributor who kept on trying the U.S. market under an array of titles, went bankrupt. I’m European. I adored it.

I’m watching a version called Deviation that includes a brief voiceover at the beginning, as my copy of The Mafu Cage is an extremely dark open matte version. However, that omits the voiceover. Hopefully the rest was unchanged.

We’re in Los Angeles but it doesn’t seem like it because we hardly see it. We spend most of the film at the home of Dr. Ellen Carpenter, an astronomer who specialises in solar activity. If we leave the house, it’s to visit her at work so that we can see the life that she tries to have, a life with a purpose and the potential for more, as a co-worker, David Eastman, tells her he’s in love with her. However, she’s unable to fully embrace life so keeps him at arm’s length.

Demons of the Mind (1972)

Director: Peter Sykes
Writer: Christopher Wicking, from a story by Christopher Wicking and Frank Godwin
Stars: Paul Jones, Patrick Magee, Gillian Hills, Robert Hardy, Michael Hordern and Yvonne Mitchell

Index: 2025 Centennials.

I wanted to see 1973’s Yellow Dog for Robert Hardy’s centennial but it’s stubbornly elusive and I couldn’t find a copy. Instead, I went with this kinda sorta Hammer horror from the year before. I hadn’t seen it before and he’s the lead character, however the order of credits reads, so it seemed like a good choice. However, now I understand why it’s not better known.

It worked best for me as a mood piece, a sort of impressionistic painting, because the film is as unhinged as its subject matter. We’re never quite sure of much that happens or why and, if I ever imagined that the ending would clear it all up, then I was horribly wrong. Half of me is eager to watch it again to discover what I had missed that would make sense of it all, but the other half is convinced that it wouldn’t help.

Initially, it’s all about Elizabeth. She’s in the back of a horse drawn carriage heading home to her family’s castle down a woodland path. It could easily be a Disney princess story but she clearly doesn’t want to be there and her older companion drugs her. Then she calms and we drift into either a memory or a dream. I’m not sure which, given that she spends it blissfully with a woodcutter but neither of them speaks.

The Light of Asia (1925)

Directors: Franz Osten and Himanshu Rai
Writer: Niranjan Pal, “with specially selected titles from Sir Edwin Arnold’s masterpiece”
Stars: The Indian Players Company

Index: That's a Wrap!

It’s well known that 80% of American silent films are lost. That’s a painful statistic to think about but, in India, the equivalent percentage is a staggering 98%. Of the 1,338 known silent films made in India, only twenty-nine survive today and not all of them completely.

That makes The Light of Asia or Prem Sanyas a historic film, though it wasn’t entirely Indian. It was shot on location in the British Raj, most of it around Lahore, the city ironically now in Pakistan. Its cast was drawn from the Indian Players Company, so it looks authentic.

Another reason it looks authentic is because the Maharajah of Jaipur lent huge assistance. The story really isn’t deep so it takes time with extras: rituals, costumes and pageantry. That help allowed a vast amount of architecture to be on display and legions of local extras.

Himanshu Rai, the film’s lead actor, is even credited as its co-director. Nine years later, he would create the Bombay Talkies studio, a key element in the rise of Hindi cinema in a nation where each tongue has its own film industry.

Little Annie Rooney (1925)

Director: William Beaudine
Writers: Hope Loring and Louis Lighton, based on a story by Catherine Hennessey
Star: Mary Pickford

Index: That's a Wrap!

Based on my rating alone, I clearly enjoyed Little Annie Rooney back in 2005, but that was a little before I started reviewing movies, so I’m unable to tap into my thoughts at the time. In 2025, I can’t ignore the obvious fact that Mary Pickford was far too old to play this role.

The thing is that she knew it too. She was a big star in the teens, very possibly the biggest, and she built her career on playing children, a natural gravitation for someone four foot ten who looked great in curls. That was believable in 1917 when she played The Poor Little Rich Girl and Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm at twenty-five, but she’d become the most powerful woman in Hollywood, a co-founder of United Artists with complete control over her films. So she moved on to adult roles, as you might expect.

Unfortunately, the public didn’t follow her. They still wanted “the girl with the curls” and they told her so after she asked them during an interview for Photoplay. So she made this, a feature that opens with a protracted battle in the back streets of a bowery between Annie’s gang and the Kid Kellys. Every participant is a kid and looks it, except for Pickford. It seems anomalous to start with and gets progressively more awkward as she and fifteen year old Joe Butterworth start leaping onto each other.

Please Murder Me! (1956)

Director: Peter Godfrey
Writers: Al C. Ward and Donald Hyde, based on an original story by E. A. Dupont and David Chantler
Stars: Angela Lansbury, Raymond Burr, Dick Foran, John Dehmer and Lamont Johnson

Index: 2025 Centennials.

This didn’t turn out to be the greatest movie that Angela Lansbury ever made, but I’ll leave it to others to look at Gaslight, The Manchurian Candidate and Bedknobs and Broomsticks, to cite just three. It didn’t turn out to contain a great role for her either, though I always like her as a villain, even if she didn’t. What it did turn out to be was an interesting failure and a pristine opportunity for Raymond Burr, billed second.

He’s Craig Carlson, attorney at law, and this starts out with him walking through dark film noir streets, checking pawnshop windows and buying a gun. He comes back to his office and dictates a fantastic message to Ray Willis: “In exactly 55 minutes, I will be dead. Murdered.”

If you want to hook an audience, this is how. Nowadays, it’s tailor made for a trailer, but it works as the prologue too. Of course, it’s a film noir so we leap into flashback and learn how the story progressed to that point.

The Living Idol (1957)

Director: Albert Lewin
Writer: Albert Lewin
Stars: Steve Forrest, Liliane Montevecchi, James Robertson-Justice, Sara Garcia and Eduardo Noriega

Index: 2025 Centennials.

The Living Idol is at once emphatically of its time and also a frequent anomaly for the films of two countries. It’s an anomaly because it’s a Hollywood film with four of the five actors on the poster not American. It’s an anomaly as a horror film shot in Mexico that’s presented in both colour and anamorphic widescreen. It’s an anomaly as a Mexican cultural story, albeit one that’s told by a British archaeologist. It’s only of its time because all the exotic scenes aren’t exotic so much as exotica and it’s about folklore and reincarnation.

The British archaeologist is Professor Alfred Stoner, played by James Robertson Justice. It’s he who takes Juanita and Terry Matthews up the sixty-two steps inside the Pyramid of the Magician to trigger the story.

You see, while Terry is impressed by a stone jaguar idol, Juanita is horrified by it. She stares in abject terror and then flees down the steep steps in her high heels. We’re soon told that, a thousand years ago, a young lady of her age in a blue outfit like hers, was sacrificed on top of that pyramid and eaten by the people. Stoner wonders if she experienced a racial memory.

The Freshman (1925)

Directors: Sam Taylor and Fred Newmeyer
Writers: Sam Taylor, John Grey, Ted Wilde and Tim Whelan
Star: Harold Lloyd

Index: That's a Wrap!

I watched a lot of Harold Lloyd features back in 2005 and ranked this one up there with the best of them, but it doesn’t stand up to a fresh viewing the way that Safety Last! did two years earlier for its centennial. It’s cleverly funny, both because of Lloyd and its intertitles, but it has precious little substance to prop it up.

The premise is almost ludicrously simple. A young man, Harold Lamb, wants, needs, aches to go to college and he’s been accepted to one, Tate University, “a large football stadium with a college attached.” He wants to be popular, so prepares with glee, copying a movie character, The College Hero, right down to the little jig that its star, Lester Laurel, does as he greets people. In his mind, he’s already replaced Chet Trask, the most popular student at Tate.

Of course, that makes him seem ridiculous, a little endearingly, sure, but still ridiculous. It’s enough to gain unwelcome attention from the college cad, who pranks him quickly and often enough for it to become a big deal. Harold has become quickly known to the student body, a feat he interprets as popularity but isn’t. Only late into the movie is it made clear to him that he’s just the college boob.

Being There (1979)

Director: Hal Ashby
Writer: Jerzy Kosiński, based on his novel
Stars: Peter Sellers, Shirley MacLaine, Jack Warden and Melvyn Douglas

Index: 2025 Centennials.

I knew very little about Being There going in. I knew that it was a late Peter Sellers movie, it was something of a departure from his typical comedy and it landed him an Oscar nod. And I knew that it was still highly regarded, comedy often dating poorly but this one not so much.

I certainly hadn’t realised that it can viably be considered a cult film; that it was directed by Hal Ashby, who had made Harold and Maude; that it was written by Jerzy Kosiński, he of The Painted Bird fame; or indeed that it had won an Oscar for Melvyn Douglas, a Golden Age actor I’ve enjoyed in many films from the thirties.

Not knowing the story certainly helped. It’s a subtle comedy, meaning that one departure for Sellers was a need for him to underact for once. It’s an unpredictable comedy too, much of the fun for me arising through his character always telling the exact truth without anyone actually realising that.