Post by Eddie Love on Oct 1, 2011 11:40:09 GMT -5
Okay, here’s a beef I have with some film lovers. (Not all, but a lot.) They get misty-eyed and rhapsodize about Hollywood studio films from the “Golden Age” and, rightly, note the pure craftsmanship of the productions -- no matter how trite the storytelling or false seeming the performances. You get people who will cut a very wide birth for “classic” American films of the 30s thru the 50s. (And when I say “Classic”, what I mean to say is “any”.)
Trouble is, this reverence seems to stop around 1960. Suddenly, in the wake of arty European and edgier American fare, Hollywood studio output becomes instantly irrelevant – never mind the films in question may have been made by the same artists and studios who cranked out product in the prior decades; with rare exceptions, it’s all regarded as stodgy, bloated pabulum.
I get it. These were lines drawn between the old-guard and the new back in the day, but why should we care now? Why can’t we recognize quality mainstream 60s fare right alongside its counter-culture counterparts? Do we still need to take sides in a decade old fight that’s been resolved, and, by the way – your side won? Relax, people!
Phew. That’s my long-winded way of wondering why a first-rate movie like HOTEL is relegated to the dust heap of movie history. It’s not groundbreaking, it doesn’t push the envelope. What it does is provide first-rate story telling set amid a gorgeous, meticulous production. I guess, it just had the misfortune to do so in the wrong decade.
The premise of the film is pretty timeworn as we follow the events and guests that swirl around a swank New Orleans hotel. (Hence the title. Get it?) There’s a professional thief working the establishment with copies he surreptitiously makes of roomkeys and there’s also a posh, titled European couple with a dark secret they’re trying to cover-up. But mainly the story revolves around the fate of the hotel itself, the prestigious St Gregory, and whether control of the grand, if less than profitable, property will fall into the hands of a corporate chain bent on laying waste to the elegance the establishment represents.
I’m straight, but I have to confess I was man-crushing on Rod Taylor all through this. As the hotel’s general manager and all-around fixer, he’s just great, a natural, relaxed actor who never condescends to the material. While he’s the main character and romantic lead, he still effortlessly conveys that he’s the guy in charge, even if he’s always subordinate to the hotel’s owner (Melvyn Douglas). There are big showy scenes of the camera moving throughout the giant hotel set as hundreds of extras go about the activities of the establishment and Taylor seems to effortlessly glide through these busy set pieces. Towards the end there’s a bit where he takes a drink at the hotel’s saloon then swings his arms over the bar to remove the bottle from the barkeep’s hands and it’s a like a dancer’s move. You’d never today see a performance like this that’s dedicated to this Hawksian notion of a man’s command of his day-to-day job.
The rest of the cast is filled out with names that at the time most have pushed the notion of the all-star cast to its broadest definition. I’m not sure audiences even back then were pining for such past-their-prime names as Michael Rennie, Merle Oberon and Richard Conte. They’re all solid though. Karl Malden as the twinkle-eyed, hotel thief is particularly good in a role that’s largely without any dialogue.
The only real misstep is Kevin McCarthy as the religious hypocrite who’s trying to take over the property and willing to use his French mistress as a diversion to meet that end. He has a resentful back-story that fuels his underhanded business dealings, but McCarthy comes off as more brash and obvious than nuanced.
The breathy French starlet Catherine Spaak, who didn’t exactly set the world on fire stateside, but still works today and played Rufus Sewell’s mother in the recent series Zen, plays the corporate raider’s girlfriend who enters into a relationship with Taylor. The dynamic between the two was probably considered “frank” for its time, as there are no euphemistics about her being anything other than a promiscuous kept woman. But the scenes between the two probably play better now than when this was made. They certainly aren’t dated. Not much in this film is, as the look is pretty understated and classic and makes no concessions to trends of the day. There are no hippies, thank God, though there is a subplot about integrating the hotel that could come off a lot worse than it does.
The impeccable production design looks sensational and does a marvelous job of inter-cutting some New Orleans location shooting. Elsewhere, the director Richard Quine doesn’t miss a step in maneuvering the action around these impressive sets. I loved the editing in this as well that includes witty transitions, all the while highlighting the deft irony of the film’s script; at all times we in the audience (standing in for the hotel itself) know more than the individual characters.
I have plenty of things to do, and when not doing them I have plenty of things taking up space on my DVR. Yet, having recorded this off TCM, I watched and then promptly re-watched it, I just loved it. Part of the reason may be it was Labor Day and this plays into nostalgia for a time when this country worked, there were good, union jobs and a guy could reach retirement operating an elevator. Not everything had yet been automated and outsourced. Bosses had skin in the game, and cared about the workforce under them. The film itself seems to recognize these values would lose favor and become a thing of the past as evidenced by its rueful ending.
That tone extends to the filmmakers attitude about the carefully crafted storytelling the film represents, that would also become somewhat passé, supplanted first by daring, visionary upstarts and later by corporatist philistines represented here by the likes of the McCarthy character.
Yes, the 60s brought us drecky big studios dinosaurs like DR. DOOLITLE and HELLO, DOLLY that tolled the death knell for the respectable, studio stuff. But there was also other fare that may not have set the world on fire, but was finely crafted work and HOTEL is a good example. Frankly, if given a choice, I’d much rather watch HOTEL again than EASY RIDER.
Trouble is, this reverence seems to stop around 1960. Suddenly, in the wake of arty European and edgier American fare, Hollywood studio output becomes instantly irrelevant – never mind the films in question may have been made by the same artists and studios who cranked out product in the prior decades; with rare exceptions, it’s all regarded as stodgy, bloated pabulum.
I get it. These were lines drawn between the old-guard and the new back in the day, but why should we care now? Why can’t we recognize quality mainstream 60s fare right alongside its counter-culture counterparts? Do we still need to take sides in a decade old fight that’s been resolved, and, by the way – your side won? Relax, people!
Phew. That’s my long-winded way of wondering why a first-rate movie like HOTEL is relegated to the dust heap of movie history. It’s not groundbreaking, it doesn’t push the envelope. What it does is provide first-rate story telling set amid a gorgeous, meticulous production. I guess, it just had the misfortune to do so in the wrong decade.
The premise of the film is pretty timeworn as we follow the events and guests that swirl around a swank New Orleans hotel. (Hence the title. Get it?) There’s a professional thief working the establishment with copies he surreptitiously makes of roomkeys and there’s also a posh, titled European couple with a dark secret they’re trying to cover-up. But mainly the story revolves around the fate of the hotel itself, the prestigious St Gregory, and whether control of the grand, if less than profitable, property will fall into the hands of a corporate chain bent on laying waste to the elegance the establishment represents.
I’m straight, but I have to confess I was man-crushing on Rod Taylor all through this. As the hotel’s general manager and all-around fixer, he’s just great, a natural, relaxed actor who never condescends to the material. While he’s the main character and romantic lead, he still effortlessly conveys that he’s the guy in charge, even if he’s always subordinate to the hotel’s owner (Melvyn Douglas). There are big showy scenes of the camera moving throughout the giant hotel set as hundreds of extras go about the activities of the establishment and Taylor seems to effortlessly glide through these busy set pieces. Towards the end there’s a bit where he takes a drink at the hotel’s saloon then swings his arms over the bar to remove the bottle from the barkeep’s hands and it’s a like a dancer’s move. You’d never today see a performance like this that’s dedicated to this Hawksian notion of a man’s command of his day-to-day job.
The rest of the cast is filled out with names that at the time most have pushed the notion of the all-star cast to its broadest definition. I’m not sure audiences even back then were pining for such past-their-prime names as Michael Rennie, Merle Oberon and Richard Conte. They’re all solid though. Karl Malden as the twinkle-eyed, hotel thief is particularly good in a role that’s largely without any dialogue.
The only real misstep is Kevin McCarthy as the religious hypocrite who’s trying to take over the property and willing to use his French mistress as a diversion to meet that end. He has a resentful back-story that fuels his underhanded business dealings, but McCarthy comes off as more brash and obvious than nuanced.
The breathy French starlet Catherine Spaak, who didn’t exactly set the world on fire stateside, but still works today and played Rufus Sewell’s mother in the recent series Zen, plays the corporate raider’s girlfriend who enters into a relationship with Taylor. The dynamic between the two was probably considered “frank” for its time, as there are no euphemistics about her being anything other than a promiscuous kept woman. But the scenes between the two probably play better now than when this was made. They certainly aren’t dated. Not much in this film is, as the look is pretty understated and classic and makes no concessions to trends of the day. There are no hippies, thank God, though there is a subplot about integrating the hotel that could come off a lot worse than it does.
The impeccable production design looks sensational and does a marvelous job of inter-cutting some New Orleans location shooting. Elsewhere, the director Richard Quine doesn’t miss a step in maneuvering the action around these impressive sets. I loved the editing in this as well that includes witty transitions, all the while highlighting the deft irony of the film’s script; at all times we in the audience (standing in for the hotel itself) know more than the individual characters.
I have plenty of things to do, and when not doing them I have plenty of things taking up space on my DVR. Yet, having recorded this off TCM, I watched and then promptly re-watched it, I just loved it. Part of the reason may be it was Labor Day and this plays into nostalgia for a time when this country worked, there were good, union jobs and a guy could reach retirement operating an elevator. Not everything had yet been automated and outsourced. Bosses had skin in the game, and cared about the workforce under them. The film itself seems to recognize these values would lose favor and become a thing of the past as evidenced by its rueful ending.
That tone extends to the filmmakers attitude about the carefully crafted storytelling the film represents, that would also become somewhat passé, supplanted first by daring, visionary upstarts and later by corporatist philistines represented here by the likes of the McCarthy character.
Yes, the 60s brought us drecky big studios dinosaurs like DR. DOOLITLE and HELLO, DOLLY that tolled the death knell for the respectable, studio stuff. But there was also other fare that may not have set the world on fire, but was finely crafted work and HOTEL is a good example. Frankly, if given a choice, I’d much rather watch HOTEL again than EASY RIDER.
