Showing posts with label Classic Film Spotlight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Classic Film Spotlight. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Classic Film Spotlight — Dan Curtis's "Burnt Offerings" (1976)

by Christine Scoleri, John Scoleri and Jack Seabrook


The story

Burnt Offerings opens with what seems to be a family of three—Ben and Marian Rolfe and their young son David—heading off in the family station wagon to a vacation at a big old house in the country.

Burgess Meredith in a really bad wig

They arrive at the house and meet Arnold and Roz Allardyce, an aging brother and sister, who tell them they can rent the house for $900 for the whole summer as long as they agree to take three meals a day up to their elderly mother, who never leaves the house.

The Rolfes go home to think it over and Ben, being sensible, sees the whole setup as kind of weird and one to stay away from. Marian talks him into it and soon enough they're back at the house for the summer, with Ben's aging Aunt Elizabeth in tow. The place is old, dark and dusty, but Marian does a heroic job of cleaning it up while the guys relax. Or do they?

How boys learned to swim in the '70s.

Once the swimming pool has been cleaned and filled, Ben and David enjoy a dip, though things turn unexpectedly dark when a bit of fun turns into Ben trying to drown his son. The nights aren't so great for Ben, either, since he's troubled by a recurring nightmare of his mother's funeral, where a spooky chauffeur paid way too much attention to the young lad.


Ben and David reconcile and, that night, it looks like the old man is going to get lucky at the pool when Marian decides to go skinny dipping. But something in the house seems to exert a strange hold over her and she keeps poor Ben from satisfying his 1970s male urges out on the front lawn.

Not tonight, honey--I'm under the spell of a sentient old house.

And what of old Aunt Elizabeth, who finds herself feeling strangely tired and wanting a nap in the middle of the day? Ben is outside happily hacking away at some overgrown plants when he thinks he sees the same spooky chauffeur from his dream pull up by the house. That night, David nearly dies when a gas heater malfunctions in his room, and the next day, Marian is blaming Aunt Elizabeth, who really doesn't remember much of what happened.

I told you we should have gone to the Hamptons!

Marian is getting more and more invested in the house (and dressing more and more like an old lady), so when David drops a crystal bowl and it shatters, she freaks out. Before you can say The Shining, Auntie is near death in her bed and Ben is cowering in the corner when he sees the spooky chauffeur pull up and enter the Aunt's room, helpfully shoving a coffin on wheels toward her bed.


After the inevitable funeral, the house seems to be looking much better and Marian is dressing like she's on Downton Abbey. When Ben notices that pieces of the house are falling off in an overnight rainstorm and being replaced with new ones, he grabs David, hops in the car, and heads out—only to be stopped by a tree that falls across the road. Ben is injured and not doing much moving or talking, so when David decides it's a good idea to test out his swimming skills in the deep end of the pool, it's up to Marian to save him.

Karen Black's hair is the scariest thing in this movie!

All three finally agree that it's time for summer vacation to come to an end and they pile in the station wagon. But wait! Marian realizes she forgot to say good bye to old Mrs. Allardyce up in the attic. Big mistake! When she does not come out of the house, Ben goes in to get her and finally gets inside the old woman's bedroom. Surprise! The elderly woman sitting in a chair with her back to the door is not Norman Bates's mother, but instead Marian, who suddenly is looking old and creepy.



She pushes Ben out of the window and he falls to his death, landing headfirst on the windshield of the station wagon and getting blood all over David's shirt.


David runs out, yelling for his mother, but the house's tall chimney falls on him and crushes him. In the final scene, we hear Arnold and Roz in voice over and the camera goes through the newly-restored house—they are thrilled to have mother back and in the pink of health.


The novel

John: Robert Marasco had a Tony award-winning play under his belt (Child’s Play) which had also been adapted to a film when he wrote his first novel, Burnt Offerings (1973). Redbook magazine ran an abridgement of the novel in early 1973, with the curious replacement of Aunt Sarah for Aunt Elizabeth. The novel itself is an effective haunted house tale, and was Stephen King’s selection in Stephen Jones and Kim Newman’s Horror: 100 Best Books. The book deals more with the family's life in Queens before heading out to their ultimate vacation rental. Sadly, Marasco died in 1998 with only one other novel to his credit, a mystery/thriller,  Parlor Games (1979), that lacks acclaim of Burnt Offerings. In 2011, Centipede Press reissued the book in a deluxe hardcover limited edition of 150 copies, with an afterword by William F. Nolan and signed by Nolan and cover artist J.K. Potter.

The screenplay

John: Marasco had written his own screenplay adaptation, but Curtis was not happy with it. He enlisted William F. Nolan to work with him on a new screenplay. Nolan had previously scripted the telefilm The Norliss Tapes and the two segments you've likely forgotten from the Karen Black TV movie Trilogy of Terror (Richard Matheson scripted the unforgettable Zuni Fetish tale adapted from his story "Prey"). I do think the film improves on the novel's ending, but in many other ways it's a rather faithful adaptation. In a new interview on the 2015 Kino Lorber DVD, Nolan makes new claims as to how he envisioned the chauffeur character that I personally think are ridiculous; that the chauffeur was the physical manifestation of the house, preventing them from leaving—claims he did not make in the commentary with recorded for the first DVD release in 2003. And claims that are not substantiated by most of the scenes in which the chauffeur appears. While the chauffeur was enhanced from the book (the funeral flashback in the film is specifically based on a memory from Curtis's mother's funeral when he was just 13), he is present throughout the novel as in the film: introduced in an early dream sequence, appearing when Ben is working in the yard, again when Aunt Elizabeth dies, and finally when Marian drives Ben and David back to the house after they attempt to leave.

Jack: I thought the chauffeur represented Death, since he seems to appear right before a character either dies or nearly dies.

Christine: It's commonly agreed that the smiling chauffeur is one of the most frightening aspects of this film. After the attempted escape, when Ben looks over at Marian, he sees the chauffeur in her place, which might lend some support to him being a manifestation of the house (fortunately for Benji, this didn't happen during the skinny dipping pool scene, which would have been truly disturbing), though I agree this makes little sense in the greater context of his appearances. He does seem to embody death looming over the family; however, I believe the chauffeur is there mostly just to scare the pants off of all of us. He seems to be so pleased about folks dying. That's just wrong.


Christine: Dan Curtis stated in his commentary that he hated Marasco's ending and it took him 15 minutes to rewrite it, later confessing that he stole the ending from Night of Dark Shadows, where Quentin goes back into the Collinwood house at the end of the film only to be possessed and advance threateningly on his wife.

The music

John: Regular Dan Curtis composer Robert Cobert turns in what might be his most effective score for Burnt Offerings. The music box theme he created for the film is particularly haunting. In 2011, the soundtrack was finally released on a limited edition CD. Perhaps most famous for scoring Dark Shadows, Cobert worked on just about every Dan Curtis project up through his World War II miniseries dramas The Winds of War and War and Remembrance.

Christine: Dark Shadows fans will likely hear some resemblance between Mrs. Allardyce's music box and Josette's music box theme, along with some other familiar notes from the daytime drama. The eerie music helps to establish a malevolent atmosphere.  

The cast

John: Despite a collection of high caliber talent in lead and supporting roles (Oliver Reed, Karen Black, Burgess Meredith, Eileen Heckart, Dub Taylor, and Bette Davis), the film is remembered fondly by most thanks to the chilling, dialogue-free performance of veteran character actor Anthony James as ‘The Chauffeur.’ James's first and last film roles were in Best Picture winners (In the Heat of the Night and Unforgiven respectively), and while he had a notable career playing unsavory characters, through the simplest of smiles his chauffeur left a lasting impression on a generation of young filmgoers. Growing up watching horror films from a very early age, I quickly got past the point where they were frightening. But his smiling chauffeur made a lasting impression that I still appreciate to this day. So much so that several years ago, I reached out to the actor and was quite surprised to receive a call from him. We had a wonderful chat, I found out that he had retired from acting and had pursued his passion in fine art. He was incredibly gracious with his time, a soft spoken man responsible for so many nightmares to so many children, and he not only provided me with a contact to get a private exhibition of his work at a showing in San Francisco, he also sent me an autographed copy of his art book, Language of the Heart. His life and career is an amazing story, recently documented in his autobiography Acting My Face, which I also highly recommend.

Jack: I always think of Anthony James as the creepy guy from High Plains Drifter.

Christine: I enjoyed his interview on the Kino Lorber edition. He recounts conversations he had with Bette and how wonderful he thought it was to work with her. He also appeared with her in Return from Witch Mountain. Amazing how he did so little in this film yet had such a big impact.

John: Bette Davis also deserves credit for an impressive performance in the film. She goes from being an older yet spry woman to a withering, sickly woman on her death bed. She truly sells it in the final scene as she and Oliver Reed listen as the chauffeur drags a coffin up the stairs.

Spry
Withering
Sickly
Madam, your coffin is served
Jack: I wasn't very impressed with her work in this film, though I blamed the script rather than the actress. She seems to say her lines with a bit of theatricality that doesn't fit with the rest of the performances.

Christine: I don't know how you can watch her death bed scenes and not be impressed. It's horrifying to watch as her back breaks and she collapses to the bed screaming, and disturbing to hear her moaning while her eyes roll back into her head. Any other actor may have made those scenes appear laughable. Her agonizing groans punctuate the sounds of the coffin as it bumps up the stairs and truly heighten the level of fear to a fever pitch. This is no quiet Dark Victory demise and much more harrowing than her death in Beyond the Forest. She expertly conveyed how the house was sucking the life out of her. Makeup alone would not have sufficed in making that believable. For an experienced actress with more than 80 movies under her belt, she makes it look easy. 

John: Lee Montgomery also deserves recognition for holding his own amongst the veteran cast. He would later star in the most effective segment of Dan Curtis's anthology TV movie, Dead of Night, "Bobby," scripted by Richard Matheson.

Jack: That kid was so annoying in this movie, but I found Karen Black even more annoying. I liked her in Family Plot, which came out about six months before, but not in this. Dan Curtis is no Hitchcock.

Christine: Well, Hitchcock is no Dan Curtis either. To each his own style. Bette Davis also worked with Hitchcock in the Alfred Hitchcock Presents episode, "Out There--Darkness" (Season 4, Episode 16).

That's a photo of Dan Curtis we see next to the new additions to the collection.

Christine: Though we only saw them briefly, Burgess Meredith and Eileen Heckart are quite delightful as the quirky Allardyce siblings who give the impression that things aren't quite what they seem at the too-good-to-be-true deal of a summer house. Dub Taylor provided some toothless authenticity as the useless handyman of the shabby manse.

The house

John: Interiors and exteriors were shot on location at the Dunsmuir House in Oakland, California, which would later be used as Morningside Mortuary in Don Coscarelli’s Phantasm. The production designers did an amazing job dressing the exterior of the house to look dilapidated from the outside in the beginning, so we can truly appreciate it's literal rebirth as the story progresses (and adding an additional chimney where warranted by the screenplay!). I was particularly impressed when touring the house several years ago to realize that they had in fact shot almost entirely on location, from the pool to the living room, to the upstairs bedroom where Bette Davis took her last breath in the film. And yes, I took great pleasure looking out the window to the driveway below where the hearse pulled up in the film.

Christine: All we needed was for Bette to say, "What a dump!" when the family drives up to the house. It goes through quite a transformation during the movie.  

In summary

John: I will always have a soft spot for Burnt Offerings. I enjoy the film today as much as the first time I saw it on television in the late 70s.

Jack: I don't know why I never saw this movie before now. I was 13 in 1976 and was aware of it. I had talked my parents into letting me see The Omen not long before this one came out. Seeing it today, it's not a great movie but it's not a bad movie, either. I like that there is no gore until the very end, and that's used in a way that it is very effective. Oliver Reed was a hot property in the mid-'70s but seems a little out of place here. The biggest problem is the direction by Dan Curtis, who overuses low angle shots. The film would seem like a TV movie if it weren't for the cast. Fun to watch, but I doubt I'll come back to it.

Christine: Burnt Offerings is an underappreciated film that has a lot going for it and is really quite frightening if you're paying attention to the details. The title of the film alone implies there will be sacrifice. The looks of horror, dismay and surprise on the faces in Mrs. Allardyce's photo collection create a real sense of unease from the get-go. The subtle clues that the house is feeding off the family, the geranium that regenerates after Davey's fall, the light bulb that suddenly starts working after Ben cuts his thumb opening champagne, the antiquated, broken eyeglasses Ben finds at the bottom of the pool before turning into a raging madman, the greenhouse of decaying flowers that bloom to life after Aunt Elizabeth dies--these allow us to understand why the family remained in the house, oblivious to these connections, and work to build suspense throughout the film. One of the truly frightening moments comes when Ben decides to grab David and leave. For the viewer it creates tension, because we know the family needs to escape the evil house, but we can understand Davey's fear that Dad's gone off his nut again, as well as his anguish over leaving his mother behind, as he attempts to fight off Ben in his reluctance to leave. When the trees throw themselves down to block their path and vines wrap around Ben's legs to pull him down as he struggles to break through the foliage, we realize that escape is hopeless and the family is doomed. We are allowed a small measure of hope when Marian goes back to wearing her '70s garb and breaks a window in her beloved house to get to David to rescue him from drowning, but we know when she decides to go back into the house, as the family readies to depart, that it's all over. Burnt Offerings is unique when compared with some of the other haunted house films such as Amityville Horror, Poltergeist, and The Shining, because this is the only film where none of the family makes it out alive. That is truly macabre.


Tuesday, January 19, 2016

Classic Film Spotlight — William Castle's "The Night Walker" (1964)

by Peter Enfantino, Christine Scoleri, John Scoleri and Jack Seabrook


The Night Walker (1964)
A Universal Picture
Directed by William Castle
Screenplay by Robert Bloch
Music by Vic Mizzy
Starring Robert Taylor, Barbara Stanwyck, Judith Meredith and Lloyd Bochner.

John: William Castle. Robert Bloch. Vic Mizzy. I know we're here to celebrate Barbara Stanwyck, but man, what a lineup! I'm sure many of you are thinking--what gimmick did Castle have up his sleeve this time? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. The Night Walker is not only gimmick-free, it also lacks an introductory appearance from the jovial director. Instead, we get an interesting and somewhat surreal prologue about dreams narrated by none other than the great Paul Frees, which ends with a bizarre image of an eyeball in a closed fist.

Peter: That intro goes on and on and... I thought we'd never get to the film itself. Little did I know, once we got to the film, that was about as good as it gets.

Christine: Perhaps the gimmick was to get Barbara Stanwyck and ex-hubby, Robert Taylor, together for this film.

Jack: They seem pretty chummy--you wouldn't know they had been divorced in real life.

John: I think you’re right. In his autobiography, the fantastic Step Right Up! I’m Gonna Scare the Pants off America, Castle said, “I felt the declining box office on my next picture, The Night Walker, co-starring Robert Taylor and Barbara Stanwyck, both big stars that I felt would be strong enough to pull customers in. The picture played to almost empty theaters.”

Christine: I have seen many of Barbara Stanwyck's movies from the 1930s and '40s and it's great to see that she retains the same energy and acting talent here in her last feature film that has always made her a pleasure to watch. Including Stanwyck in a film automatically elevates its potential. Some sources state that Castle originally offered the part of Irene Trent to Joan Crawford, though I have not found much evidence to support the veracity of that claim. Although Crawford made an excellent axe-murderess in the previous Castle-Bloch feature, Strait-Jacket, I think that Stanwyck is the better choice for this role. Get a load of the way this lady screams. Yowza!


Jack: Does the five-note musical phrase that plays over and over remind anyone else of "Food, Glorious Food" from Oliver!? I kept waiting for Barbara Stanwyck to ask for more.

John: It didn't until you mentioned it. I'm just glad I had already watched the film!

Peter: Actually, Jack, the guitar bit reminded me of the intro to "2000 Light Years From Home" off Their Satanic Majesties Request by The Rolling Stones. Perhaps Mick and Keef were William Castle fans?





Christine: So, right off the bat, in creepy Castle fashion, we've got a milky-eyed guy, who looks like something bad happened to his face, leering over the bed of a woman while she whispers sweet nothings to her dream lover in her sleep. Shortly thereafter, we find out it's her freaky husband who also enjoys making recordings of her intimate vivid dreams. I love the way Stanwyck delivers the line, "My lover is only a dream, but he's still more of a man than you!" as only she could when he confronts her on her somnambulant infidelity. Now I've just got to wonder, what is this important work he's doing up in his lab, and why would a blind man go exploring the cause of a smoky explosion? We can surmise the cause of his blindness and disfigurement.

John: What was it exactly that brought these two lovebirds together? The explosion in the lab might have been the best thing to happen to Howard Trent (Hayden Rorke). Fortunately, it’s well-isolated, so a quick padlock on the door and the house is A-OK for the new widow, Irene. Unfortunately, she wants out of the place, pronto.

Peter: I like when the arson detective says the blast created a temperature so intense it melted everything beyond recognition... all while he's surrounded by damaged but still pretty recognizable equipment.



John: Howard's attorney, Barry Moreland (Robert Taylor), informs her that while she’ll inherit Trent’s fortune, she can’t sell the house just yet, so she chooses to shack up in the apartment behind the old beauty shop she used to manage (Irene’s — natch!).






John: Fortunately for Irene, the literal man of her dreams (Lloyd Bochner) is not turned off by her newly-claimed widowhood. It gives him the perfect opportunity to pop the question.


John: Aside from the Vic Mizzy score, to me the creepiest thing about the movie was their dream wedding sequence with a mannequin priest and witnesses. And rather than just relying on the voiceover dialog, Castle had the characters shaken when they were speaking, which added to the eerie effect.

Peter: Though I liked the Mizzy score (of course, it doesn't hold a candle to his themes from Green Acres and The Addams Family), I thought in several scenes (most notably when Irene is explaining her dreams to Barry), the music is intrusive and threatens to distract the viewer from the dialogue. Of course, considering that the dialogue isn't all that good, that may be the point.

Christine: Nothing says bad dream like wax figures at a wedding. The dramatic organ music helps create the nightmarish atmosphere. This is my favorite part of the whole film.





John: The shot of the organ playing while the unmoving hands hovered above the moving keys reminded me of another Vic Mizzy favorite, The Ghost and Mr. Chicken! Sadly for Irene, her former (toasted) husband also received an invitation to the nuptials.



Christine: Do you think William Castle may have seen "The Cheaters"?
"The Cheaters" episode of Boris Karloff's Thriller
John: Hmmm... that episode of Thriller was based on a Robert Bloch story. Can you believe that behind that make-up, Irene's dead husband is Dr. Bellows from I Dream of Jeannie? Hayden Rorke also played a role in another Robert Bloch penned episode of Thriller, "The Devil's Ticket."

Jack: Barbara Eden later wrote that Rorke was "unashamedly gay" and his partner was a TV director named Justus Addiss. I never suspected! He wasn't campy like Paul Lynde or Charles Nelson Reilly.



John: There’s nothing like your ex showing up at your wedding to send you off into a strange psychedelic dream within a dream sequence… a screenshot doesn’t even do this one justice!

Christine: Heads spinning, candelabra spinning, melted ex-husband...obviously someone drugged the champagne.



John: Scream and scream again! I don't think I ever thought of Barbara Stanwyck as being a scream queen, but she certainly pays her dues in this film.

Christine: She was warming up for this in Sorry, Wrong Number. She has an impressive lung capacity for someone who had reportedly been smoking since she was nine years old.



John: Joyce (Judith Meredith), the new gal at Irene’s beauty shop, has an interesting technique to make Irene feel better… but it turns out she’s more involved in the plot than even Irene knows.

Jack: Judith Meredith spiced up the movie for a few minutes but never had much of a career.



John: Of course, that results in her ending up in Irene’s bedroom in the middle of the night with a knife in her back!

Christine: Irene was apparently all out of screams by this time.




John: This is where things sadly fell apart for me. All of the build-up to this point leads to a revelation straight out of Scooby Doo, and while there are a few twists in the final minutes, it basically amounts to everyone being ‘in on it’ with the exception of Irene. 

Peter: I thought, aside from the set-up scenes which were tense and showed promise, The Night Walker was a sloooooow burn that never went anywhere. I sure liked it when I was a kid. Scared the hell out of me, but then so did my fourth grade teacher, Mr. Stack. Difference is, I don't have to revisit him forty years later to find out he was just a big pussy cat.

Christine: Despite William Castle's warning, I don't believe many viewers will be forced to dream of secret desires they're ashamed to admit as a result of watching this movie. It is a bit of a let down after the way it was built-up, but I enjoyed the unexpected twists at the end, and Barbara Stanwyck and Robert Taylor make it an entertaining ride that's worth watching. Vic Mizzy's music makes it all the more delightful. The Night Walker's lack of success may have had something to do with Stanwyck's decision to work exclusively in television henceforth. Apparently she complained that she was only offered parts thereafter about "grandmothers who eat their children."


John: When all was said and done, The Night Walker reminded me of one of those episodes of Boris Karloff's Thriller that led you to believe something supernatural was at play, only to reveal at the climax that it was not supernatural at all. That said, I still think it’s a fun entry in William Castle’s filmography.

Peter: Not Robert Bloch's finest moment.
Legendary poster artist
Reynold Brown's art for The Night Walker.
Michael Avallone's tie-in paperback.
Note that Robert Bloch's name is highlighted

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Classic Film Spotlight — On Borrowed Time (1939)

by Jack Seabrook, Christine Scoleri and John Scoleri

John: When considering a classic film to cover,  On Borrowed Time was my first choice, and one that I hoped I could convince my fellow bare•boners to join in on. Based on the 1937 dramatic adaptation by Paul Osborn of Lawrence E. Watkins's novel, it's the first time I encountered the direct personification of death in cinema. I had read about Prince Sirki (from Death Takes a Holiday) in Famous Monsters of Filmland, but the only films I had seen where I thought of a character even close to representing death (not Mr. Death himself) was Anthony James's chauffeur in Dan Curtis's Burnt Offerings.

Christine: I have seen quite a few early 1930s movies with Lionel Barrymore, but I had never heard of this film, so this was a delightful discovery for me. According to the 1939 NY Times movie review of this film, "the Hays code required the toning down of the salty dialogue that was at once the most comically shocking and endearing virtue of crotchety old Julian Northrup and his stalwart mimic, little Pud." The NYT review was hard on Lionel Barrymore for being too Lionel Barrymore, which is interesting considering he often played grumpy, yet lovable old men, and seems well suited to the part.

Jack: On Borrowed Time is a charming fantasy that was released in the all-time greatest movie year of 1939. As the film opens, we see a young Hans Conreid driving down the road and offering to pick up a well-dressed stranger. Conreid has a bad cough but the stranger declines the offer, saying he has something else to do. It's hard to believe Hans Conreid was ever this young—he was born in 1917 and this is one of his earliest film credits.


John: First time viewers might miss Cedric Hardwicke's great line after Conreid says he thought he had been flagged down by the mysterious stranger, "Not yet..."

Jack: The stranger does accept a ride from an unfortunate couple that comes along soon after. The driver is Truman Bradley, who would later host Science Fiction Theatre on TV in the 1950s. 


Jack: The car crashes and the man and woman are found dead, but there is no sign of the stranger. It's fairly obvious that he is Mr. Death, played by the great Cedric Hardwicke.

John: One of the things I love about this film is how Hardwicke plays the role. He is understated and creepy in his early appearances.

Christine: Several sources claim this was his favorite role. He does seem to be enjoying himself. He is not a frightening character, and seems very calm and gentle throughout the film. 

Jack: We then switch gears to the main story, which concerns Julian Northrup, his wife Nellie, and their grandson Pud. Gramps and Nellie are a colorful old pair who either remind us of what our own grandparents were like or of what we wish they were like. Pud is the child of the couple killed in the car crash and he's now an orphan, but he will be raised by his grandparents. The relationship between the boy and his grandfather is delightful and is the highlight of the film.

Christine: I agree. These two worked well together.


John: What I always found interesting was how little his parents' death seemed to affect Pud. You truly get the sense that the death of his grandfather would have had a much more pronounced impact on him.

Jack: Yet there is a serpent in Eden in the person of Pud's Aunt Demetria, who has designs on Pud's inheritance and wants to adopt the boy. Her greedy, uptight personality stands in stark contrast to the freewheeling Gramps. Eily Malyon, born in 1879, plays Demetria very broadly, almost like Mrs. Gulch from The Wizard of Oz, released the same year. Gramps teaches Pud the word "pismire" to describe Demetria and Pud sings a song to the tune of The Battle Hymn of the Republic every time his aunt walks in: "Aunt Demetria is a pismire . . ."


John: The Gulch comparison is right on the money, and one I had felt from my first viewing, long before I realized the film was released a month earlier than Oz! Demetria is great fun to watch as she discovers that her newly deceased brother in law left a hefty sum (fifty thousand dollars in 1939 money!) to Pud and begins her scheming to get her hands on it.

Christine: She was effective at making herself an unsympathetic character from the very beginning when she becomes emotional over the news of her sister's death, and quickly demonstrates that she's really crying over missing out on the trip to California her sister had planned for her, rather than the actual loss of her sister. 

Jack: It's not long before age catches up to Nellie, as Mr. Brink (Mr. Death's name in the film) pays a visit and she passes away in a lovely scene. Franz Waxman's score is particularly good here as he uses bits of old songs to create a mood of a time from long ago. Beulah Bondi plays Nellie and it's astounding to note that she was born in 1889 and was ten years younger than the actress who played Pud's aunt!


John: You just blew my mind, Jack. I never would have pegged her as younger, and it doesn't seem like they resorted to using old age make-up for Bondi. She gives a great performance as the 'adult' raising two kids (Gramps and Pud).

Christine: I'm not convinced that Granny died from old age. True, she was clutching her chest and complaining about gas (women's heart attack symptom) quite a bit, but I suspect that the pills Aunt Demmy gave to Nellie to help her with her gas may have hastened her demise. Gramps cautions her to be careful about taking them. Even the dog whimpers and follows as Demetria leads her up the stairs. Notice how she hovers over Granny's bedside, sitting up at attention when Granny says she feels funny. She also fails to tell Gramps that Nellie is asking for him. Of course, any real evidence that Aunt Demmy would murder Granny to simplify her adoption claim to Pud, would have never made it past the Code, so it's only for dark minded people to look at the clues and consider the possibility. 

Jack: Gramps is depressed after Nellie dies but he soon rallies, aware that his strength of character is all that stands between Pud and Aunt Demetria. Barrymore was born in 1878 and was 51 years old when this movie was released; a combination of a broken hip and arthritis kept him in a wheelchair despite his rather young age.


Jack: The most famous part of the film occurs around this point, when Gramps makes a wish that anyone who climbs the big apple tree in the front yard will be stuck up there until he grants permission for them to come down. When Mr. Brink comes for Gramps, Gramps tricks him into climbing up to get an apple, leaving Death up a tree and everyone alive indefinitely.

John: While this is the critical bit the plot hinges on, I never did quite understand where Pud came up with the notion that doing a good deed meant you could have any wish granted. Not to mention the fact that Gramps's good deed was merely writing a $50 check to the preacher who presided over the funeral of Pud's parents...

Christine: Refer to opening titles, John. "Because faith still performs miracles and a good deed does find its just reward." Considering that Gramps avidly avoids church and shuns religion is what makes his donation to a preacher a good deed.


Jack: Cedric Hardwicke is a sheer delight stuck in the tree; he tolerates the situation because, for him, time is meaningless and he knows he'll be back to work eventually.

Christine: When Gramps tells Pud that he thinks others can't hear Mr. Brink because they're too busy, Mr. Brink denies this and states he has neither the authority or inclination to explain why, possibly alluding to the fact that he will be taking them both very soon, since the only ones who can see or hear him are on his appointment list. It also lets us know that he responds to a higher authority.


Jack: The general lack of people dying starts to be noticed, especially by Dr. Evans, played by Henry Travers, whom we all know best as Clarence the angel from It's a Wonderful Life. Travers, Barrymore and Bondi all appeared in both On Borrowed Time and Capra's 1946 Christmas classic.

Christine:  I was quite surprised that Gramps got away with shooting Mr. Grimes in the gut just to prove his point that nobody could die with Mr. Brink stuck in the tree. How did this get past the Hays Code? Did you catch the part when Evans asks about the death rate at the hospital and the doctor tells him they had a few patients "hanging on the Brink?" 

John: Another fine performance comes from Una Merkel, who plays Marcia, a housekeeper loved by Nellie and Gramps (and distrusted by Demetria, due to her scandalous kissing of her fiancee in public).

Christine: Una Merkel had appeared in over fifty films by this time. In the 30s, she was often cast in comedic roles as the best friend of the leading lady, and was known for her spirited wise-cracks. This is a much more subdued role for her, but she is easily loved in any part she plays. 

 

Jack: After Nellie dies, she seems like the perfect solution to the problem of where to put Pud, since she is being courted by a nice young man.


John: While initially dismissing Northrop's claims, Dr. Evans soon observes that people who should be dying are not. He tests his theory with several mice and a fishing pole (much to the disgust of Mr. Brink) and finds out that death most certainly awaits anyone who touches the apple tree. One of my favorite scenes is when, despite now knowing the truth, Evans lies to get Gramps committed in the hopes he'll choose to release Death from the tree. As the group sits outside the tree, Gramps (the only one other than Pud who can hear Mr. Brink) makes up a conversation to lead Demetria into thinking that once he comes down from the tree, death will be coming for her, too. And Marcia gets in on the act, saying she heard Mr. Brink say the same. Needless to say, she scurries off in fear, never to be seen again.

Christine: This was a great scene. The comedy in this film is well played and helps keep the mood light.

Jack: The movie takes a strange turn, however, that is especially hard for us to understand today. Toward the end, Mr. Brink tricks Pud into climbing up to see him in the tree. Instead of dying, however, Pud falls and is paralyzed.


John: While by this point in the film we have come to appreciate Mr. Brink as having a sense of humor, and really just someone doing his job, you can't help but think of his trying to lure young Pud to his death as a pretty evil trick.

Christine: Mr. Brink explains to Julian that he didn't mean to hurt Pud. He only meant to take him, and it was his only hope of getting down. Remember that Pud was able to see and hear Mr. Brink, and was most likely destined to go with him, once Julian let him down anyway.

Jack: Gramps realizes that the jig is up and he'll have to let Mr. Brink down out of the tree, ensuring his own death and that of young Pud. I think that the death of children was more of a part of people's experience in the old days, because watching this film today my natural instinct was that it would have been better to have Pud survive and thrive as the ward of Una Merkel and her beau.

Christine: The movie seems to be set up for us to expect and hope for this outcome, and I think it didn't happen because this film seems to be about making peace with death, including the death of children, which is especially difficult to accept. Lionel Barrymore lost both his daughters in infancy and never had any other children, which leads me to wonder if this was an especially difficult scene for him, or one that helped him process his own grief. 


Jack: Down climbs Mr. Brink, and he, Gramps and Pud march happily off toward Heaven!


Jack: It's a strange ending, and probably the hardest thing to take in the whole film. But it works in an old-fashioned way.

Christine: I was so taken by the movie magic, I believed Lionel Barrymore was actually able to get up and walk, but that's most likely a double walking along with Pud in the picture above, and you'll notice in the following scene pictured below, he seems to be rolling along.  

John: And so we discover that Mr. Brink isn't so bad after all. The last thing we hear is Nellie's voice calling out to her husband and, oddly enough, there's no indication that Pud's reuniting with his deceased parents is an important part of the coming family reunion.


Jack: On Borrowed Time is a beautiful film with a terrific performance by Lionel Barrymore. It's not my favorite film of his (that honor goes to It's a Wonderful Life), but it's a delight to watch and the current print from the Warner Archive fixes any issues with picture and sound quality that had existed in prints that were circulating in recent decades.

John: I first encountered it on TV years ago, was thrilled when it found its way to LaserDisc, and while the Warner Archive DVD is just a port of that release, it beats a VHS transfer. Who knows--perhaps someday we'll see a high-def remaster find its way to Blu Ray!  

Christine: I like all the films I've seen with Lionel Barrymore, but this may be my new favorite, and worthy of repeated viewings. 

As an added bonus, you can listen to a Lux Radio Theater version of On Borrowed Time featuring Lionel Barrymore, with Vincent Price as Mr. Brink! And while it doesn't include Lionel Barrymore, here's another radio show version with Boris Karloff as Mr. Brink!