The latest issue of Radio Recall—the newsletter for The Metropolitan Washington Old-Time Radio Club—arrived in my mailbox yesterday. Among the great articles: a look at the Australian radio version of Charlie Chan, written by frequent OTR Digest contributor Ian Grieve—who I’m often mistaken for on the Digest on account of “Grieve” and “Shreve” rhyming and “Ian” and “Ivan” being similar. Rest assured, however, that’s where the similarities end. I’m not even Australian, though I have been to an Outback restaurant once or twice. Also, noted OTR author Jim Cox has a fascinating article entitled “Save Our Stella,” about the effort to revive radio’s popular Stella Dallas soap after its cancellation in 1955.

Also in the post, the latest issue of Leonard Maltin’s Movie Crazy—which is a newsletter written and published by the film historian of the same name. If you haven’t skated over to Leonard’s website, you will miss out on a great piece dealing with the UCLA Television and Film Archive’s 12th Festival of Preservation. (Does AMC even do that preservation festival anymore? I keep expecting them to trumpet “the newly-restored director’s cut of They Live.”)

I went through the Dad’s Army DVD like peanuts, and I’m jones-ing (not Lance Corporal Jones, though) for more. By biding my time at Amazon-UK, I found out that the first and second seasons of the show are to be released on a Region 2 DVD—fortunately I have a region-free player for just such emergencies. It’s funny—I bought this player two years ago, and to date I have bought only three Region 2 titles: the first series of the Britcom Birds of a Feather, The Witchfinder General (1968—a.k.a. Conqueror Worm) and Richard Linklater’s Slacker (1991), which Criterion will be releasing September 14. The first two Dad’s Army series were comprised of twelve black-and-white episodes (color—or colour—television didn’t really take hold until 1969 at the BBC), of which three apparently no longer survive, due to their being erased. The BBC engaged in a project of “wiping” old videotapes at a time when no one foresaw a VHS or DVD market, but thanks to archivists, new old treasures have been turning up from people’s attics, cellars, churches, etc.

With the Dad’s Army DVD, I also bought the first series of one of my favorite Britcoms, One Foot in the Grave. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen this one but it’s downright hysterical, about a cranky retiree and his long-suffering wife (any relation to my parents is purely coincidental). If this sounds vaguely familiar, it’s because comedian Bill “Dirty Laundry” Cosby adapted the One Foot premise for his 1996-2000 sitcom Cosby. For reasons I can only describe as stupid, they sort of watered down Cos' character after the first season or so, making his persona more of the cuddly Jell-O salesman and ruining the show in the process. This is one reason why I’m such a fan of British sitcoms; they’re not afraid to spotlight unattractive characters, like Basil Fawlty (John Cleese) in Fawlty Towers or Hyacinth Bucket (pronounced “bouquet,” and played by Patricia Routledge) in Keeping Up Appearances. I’d be hard pressed to think of any American sitcom that starred an unlikable character, Dabney Coleman’s Buffalo Bill (1983-84) is the only one that springs to mind.
11:08:31 AM    comment []  trackback []  

“When they were handing out hard luck, the farmer got there first.”

Several years ago while I was still residing in Morgantown, WV, I rented three movies from the town library for a buck apiece. Memory has failed me with regards to the identity of the third rental, but the other two were The Devil and Miss Jones (1941) and The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941). (Well, I thought they would make a cute double feature.) I only got to see Miss Jones’ encounter with the Prince of Darkness…okay, I’m being facetious; it’s actually a Sam Wood-directed comedy about a saleswoman (Jean Arthur *sigh*) whose new co-worker/confidant (Charles Coburn) is in reality the department store’s owner, attempting to squelch a possible union in his place of business. I’ll watch Arthur in anything, of course, but overall I didn’t think the movie was any great shakes. (By the way, this movie should not be confused with 1973’s The Devil in Miss Jones, which is a horse of a completely different color.) For some reason, I never got around to watching the other two rentals, and they were quickly brought back to the library before some angry librarian went off on a late-fee vendetta.

I rectified the situation with The Devil and Daniel Webster early this a.m., and if they ever perfect time travel, I will catapult back into the past and slap myself around for not seeing this movie sooner. It is, as you may have guessed, a cinematic adaptation (by Dan Totheroh) of the 1937 short story by Stephen Vincent Benet, in which a hard-luck farmer named Jabez Stone (James Craig) sells his soul to the Devil (Walter Huston) for seven years of riches, good luck and prosperity. When “Scratch” comes to collect what is due him, Jabez enlists the help of Senator—and lawyer—Daniel Webster (Edward Arnold) to help extricate Stone of his Faustian bargain and redeem his soul.

Directed by William Dieterle (The Story of Louis Pasteur, The Life of Emile Zola), The Devil and Daniel Webster is an absolute 24-karat gem of a movie, a film that seamlessly blends dramatic, comedic, fantasy and horror elements for a one-of-a-kind viewing experience. Huston may have copped an Oscar for his memorable performance in The Treasure of The Sierra Madre (1948), but his role here as Lucifer himself (his wicked grin conveys both menace and merriment) is truly the apex of his career (he was nominated for Devil in 1942, but lost). Arnold is equally superb as Webster, one of the few performances of his that I’ve seen in which he’s not munching on the scenery—he balances his trademark bombast with some quiet, understated moments as well. The entire cast of this movie is simply outstanding, filled to the brim with great character actors: Anne Shirley (as Mrs. Stone), Jane Darwell, Simone Simon, Gene Lockhart, H.B. Warner, John Qualen, George Cleveland and Jeff Corey, just to name a few. (The part of Daniel Webster was originally to be played by Thomas Mitchell—but after breaking his leg he was replaced by Arnold. If you look closely, you can still see Mitchell in a few of the long shots.) Composer Bernard Herrmann, best known for his work with Orson Welles and Alfred Hitchcock, supplied a memorable folk music score that won him his only Oscar (and a richly deserved one, at that).

The Devil and Daniel Webster was released on disc by Criterion, a company that remains the gold standard when classic movies are released to DVD. In addition to a re-mastered, completely restored version of this film (for many years it was available only in a truncated 85-minute form) it features footage from the preview version, Here is a Man, which is compared to the final version; the preview had several reverse-negative shots of a grinning “Scratch” inserted at certain moments in the film—these are genuinely eerie, and it’s a shame that they excised them from the final product. (The Devil and Daniel Webster was also known as, at various times, All That Money Can Buy, A Certain Mr. Scratch and Daniel and the Devil.) There’s also a photo gallery of stills from the film, and an audio segment of actor Alec Baldwin reading Vincent Benet’s short story. I was not aware that the author wrote two sequels to this classic, “Daniel Webster and the Sea Serpent” (1937) and “Daniel Webster and the Ides of March” (1939). OTR enthusiasts may enjoy the two Columbia Workshop productions of “The Devil and Daniel Webster” (from August 6, 1938) and “Sea Serpent” (from August 1, 1937).

I was really bowled over by how wonderful this movie is; it’s much more menacing and frightening than a lot of horror films I’ve seen, and there’s lots of wonderful stylistic touches (I love it when the Devil offers Stone his business card, and when Jabez waves it away it erupts in a small burst of flame). It also has a sly tongue-in-cheek quality in some of its dialogue: when “Scratch” informs Stone that he’ll soon be the richest man in New Hampshire, the farmer replies, “Well, I’ll be…” He’s soon cut off as the Devil replies, “Yes…yes…yes, indeed…but not now…not for seven years.”

Update: Something Old, Nothing New fills in the background detail on The Devil and Daniel Webster (1941), including some of the political subtext, and also corrects my mistaken impression that the film is intact, for which I am grateful.
9:42:55 AM    comment []  trackback []  

Shout out!

I just wanted to take this brief bit o'bandwidth to congratulate my very good friend s.z., who is celebrating her first year blogiversary. She is the CEO and chairperson of the always wet-your-pants funny World O'Crap, a blog whose sharp wit and irresistable charm I can only dream of equalling. My other blog pal, Pete M., has a brief history on World at The Dark Window, as does the twisted and evil Dr. Seb No at the equally funny and always relevant Sadly, No!

Let me just say that had it not been for s.z.'s blog, I might never have attempted one myself. This does not mean, though, that you should blame her for what you read here—she didn’t exactly encourage me; in fact, I think she may have been the one who blackballed me when I was up for membership before the Salon Blogs Community and Country Club. (Fortunately, money walks and you-know-what talks, and they accepted me as a member once my credit card cleared.)

Seriously, happy blogiversary to one of the best and funniest bloggers on the Net. (I’m one of the few who actually knows her secret identity—it’s almost like being Tonto or Kato or [insert OTR sidekick here]!)
6:44:06 AM    comment []  trackback []