Tag: black and white

Janet Gaynor kneels on a kitchen floor, exhausted from cleaning – a still from Servants’ Entrance (1934).

Servants’ Entrance

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

Before Walt Disney’s name meant feature-length fantasy, it popped up in odd places – like this 1934 live-action comedy about heiresses and hard work.

Servants’ Entrance may seem like an odd candidate for a modern film review, but beneath its vintage surface lies a surprisingly thoughtful narrative.

A short animated segment arrives in the film’s later half – a technical exercise in blending animation with live action. Walt Disney in the batting cage. Refining techniques he would later use in Mary Poppins.

What never ceases to amaze is his tendency toward uniqueness and originality.

In this case, dishware comes to life and invades Hedda’s bed in a nightmare sequence. The chaos is playful, but also pointed: sharp cutlery, hostile teacups and mean ceramics. She repels them all with firm words and a commanding tone.

Walt probably recycled the “living dishware” concept elsewhere, but nothing comes immediately to mind. While technically effective, the scene offers only mild fun. Its real value lies in story terms. Our tragic heroine is so buried in new responsibility that it haunts her even in sleep. She carries herself with such grace in the absurdity that we love her all the more for it.

I attended a packed screening at the 2025 TCM Classic Film Festival. Too packed.

A full auditorium is no way to enjoy a screening. Contemporary releases are bad enough, but prestige retrospectives like this can be worse.

Attending alone, I hunt for an open single seat amid a block of overenthusiastic viewers. Andrea Kalas delivers a sharp, tightly rehearsed intro focused almost entirely on the animated sequence. I later speak with Sloan DeForest – who ducks in just to catch that scene before leaving to introduce another film elsewhere. Apparently, this moment has a fanbase.

Strange emphasis. The animation is a curiosity, sure. But the allegorical framing of the story is far more resonant.

The events of Servants’ Entrance unfold with symbolic charge: an oil baron receives news of corporate collapse and his daughter’s sudden engagement in the same breath. From there, the film becomes a meditation on class discomfort and dignity in labor. The entitled couple steps into the working world – with uneven grace.

What’s great is its depiction of professionalism. The career path to monetary self-sufficiency. Thankless long hours doing blue collar labor in the early stages. Including a variety of attempts and missteps.

The grind of starting at the bottom, eagerly applying for roles as the lowest of servants.

Janet Gaynor plays the heiress, Hedda Nillson, a plucky upstart. Much of the plot is satire, requiring earnest delivery of absurd dialogue. Gaynor is seamless here. Each line fits with the tone and still doesn’t break from believability. Hedda Nillson feels like a real person. Not the most gorgeous bombshell, but a cracker jack hard worker with perfect enthusiasm. The type of gal every fella would like to marry. 1934’s contemporary heroine.

The chauffeur, Erik Landstrom (played by Lew Ayres), embodies a different shade of professionalism. His aversion and passive aggression toward Hedda border on despicable. The audience hates him upon introduction.

This feeling deepens during the dishwashing scene. Nillson’s searching for the other (higher up) servants when Landstrom explains they’re in bed. After a festive occasion such as the night’s party, it falls to the lowest servant to clean up the remaining mess.

“I’m not a gentleman,” he explains, “If I were I’d be helping you.” He lets his coffee mug, saucer, and plate clatter atop the piled rest.

Hatred.

But in retrospect, what the viewer fails to appreciate is Landstrom’s perspective. He’s not some embittered underling. He’s well established in a career that’s about to elevate him beyond blue collar rank. And just as he’s about to secure a foothold on that next rung, a pretty source of risk and temptation appears. It’s not that he dislikes Hedda. If he doesn’t love her instantly, he at least recognizes the danger she represents – especially given her relationship status. His initial coldness is a form of self-preservation. An attempt to repel her. And in that light, his resistance becomes…dignified.

It makes you consider the duality of attraction and motivation. The tension between what you want and what you can afford to want.

Somewhere after that point, the audience turns. Perhaps solely because it’s what Hedda wants. Which again speaks to the power of Gaynor’s performance.

It’s old. It’s not in color. Are you going to watch it? Probably not.

But given the context of the film’s production, Servants’ Entrance is solid – and worth a watch for more than a Disney footnote. The real magic isn’t in the plates that spring to life. It’s in the woman who keeps her dignity when they do.

★★ ★★★ ★★

Access IMDb and Letterboxd for breezier reviews.

Or check out Suddenly Last Summer or Eraserhead for more TCM Fest fueled reviews!

suddenly last summer 1959 review – featured image

Suddenly Last Summer

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

Elizabeth Taylor. Katharine Hepburn. Two titans of classic Hollywood worth knowing. The most important takeaway from any Suddenly Last Summer review.

TCM Film Festival 2025

Screened in a Chinese multiplex on Hollywood Boulevard.

Joseph L. Mankiewicz

The film’s director. His grandson, Nick Davis, provided the intro. He’s seen Suddenly Last Summer twice. The first time he focused on the powerhouse performances by Hepburn and Taylor. This time he found himself drawn to Montgomery Clift’s quieter, more restrained turn. A sharp, spot-on observation

Davis also shared a moment from production:
On the first day of filming, call time was 9 a.m. Elizabeth Taylor arrived at 11 to find a completely deserted set. There was only a camera on a tripod, with a note taped to the lens:
“Elizabeth, the entire cast & crew were here for our call time at 9 a.m. We’ve gone home for the day. See you tomorrow—9 a.m.”
She was never late again. Davis concluded simply, “My grandfather was a clever director like that.”

The film revolves around a young man who dies under mysterious circumstances, leaving behind two women—his doting, venomous mother and his earnestly tragic cousin.

Sebastian.
His name is repeated at least forty times. It gets tiring. And frankly, he’s easy to hate. What we learn of him: he summers with his mother, neglects his cousin’s wellbeing, conquers the heights of lady-slaying and eventually turns to his only remaining option—luring impoverished gay men through the feminine bait of his mother and cousin.

These “vultures,” once fed, become insatiable. They chase the unwilling—waving cheap tin instruments, scaling steep hills, closing in with ravenous glee. The threat of cannibalistic justice looms. It’s grotesque, stylized and probably where the director’s ambition overreaches. The tin band is revisited too often, over-mystified and never fully clear.

Elizabeth Taylor

Calling her a “vision” doesn’t quite cover it. One of the most beautiful screen actresses in history—and also among the elite few who truly put themselves out there. But here she tries a little too hard. The emotion comes off forced at times.

Katharine Hepburn

The vision from the generation before. Still magnetic. Her delivery is precise, grounded and artistically shaped—but her rhythmic cadence, so uniquely hers, can become grating. Most of the time it’s familiar and fun. Occasionally it hits the wrong note entirely.

Tennessee Williams

The playwright behind the script. Cat on a Hot Tin Roof remains the superior collaboration with Liz but she navigates his relentless monologues here with grace. Sometimes she even elevates them.

Suddenly Last Summer is bizarre—and that’s exactly how I like my black-and-white films. Proficient live dialogue recording. Long, charged exchanges. And clues tucked right there on screen.

Highlights:

  • The throne-like elevator ride to the middle of the room
  • Feeding a giant practical Venus flytrap (still creepy despite the artifice)
  • A not-quite-truth-serum that still makes people spill
  • The swarm of hungry coded gay men devouring Sebastian—symbolic horror laced with period-specific discomfort. (Part of me hoped someone in the audience would be offended. But no—the TCM fans are sharp.)

There’s a lot of repetition. Hepburn monologues about sea turtles nesting, birds feasting and the circle of life. Names like Sebastian, Guadalupe and the Catatas are drilled into memory—like Zihuatanejo in The Shawshank Redemption.

Taylor overcommits. Hepburn overspeaks. Clift, by contrast, downplays his role until it becomes strangely believable.

A strange relic. Imperfect. Fascinating.
Exactly what you hope for when you gamble on an old film you’ve never seen.

Color didn’t become cinematic mainstream until the 1960s. Watching Suddenly Last Summer today—through the lens of black and white—it holds up. Not Citizen Kane but not regrettable either.

If there were raw footage of Elizabeth Taylor’s life—unedited and timestamped—I’d gladly devour it. Say, Liz: 4–6 p.m., Thursday, July 18, 1963. That’s a film I’d watch from start to finish.

Though I wouldn’t begin with the color reels. I’d need to see her in black and white first—to enjoy her there before moving on to Liz in Technicolor.

★★★★ ★★★★

Clipped versions of this review available on IMDb and Letterboxd.

For more TCM Fest fueled black & white read Servants’ Entrance, Eraserhead or Casablanca!

Eraserhead

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

Been on my Netflix instant queue for 6 years.

It looks scary and it’s by the writer/director of Mulholland Drive (a film I enjoy; check out my review) and Blue Velvet (a film I’m still ‘back and forth’ on.)

It was playing at midnight at the TCM Film Festival in Los Angeles, so I was pretty excited to watch it on the big screen.

The man introducing the film was Patton Oswalt, so amongst a number of funny things, he also shared the following.

Mel Brooks used the resources of his own production company, Brooksfilms, to give David Lynch his first chance at a mainstream directing job with The Elephant Man. Patton reiterates that Stuart Cornfeld convinced him to do so by dragging Brooks to a midnight screening of Eraserhead.

Since I was young, I’ve had the utmost admiration for Mel Brooks.

And let me tell you something sister, E-Head’s unsettling.

I hate this movie.

Slimy slithering intestines don’t flutter my fancy.

Did that sentence make you feel gross? It should; hopefully it scares you away completely.

Because that’s all this movie does; it seeks to disturb the viewer.

So in that department: Mission Accomplished, Mr. Lynch.

This is by far his worst.

It’s smart; don’t get me wrong. But originality only goes so far with me. When the ride gets painful, stars begin falling off. It’s not fun, enjoyable nor educational.

Some consider it thought provoking. I don’t.

To be more specific, Eraserhead is about the fears of fatherhood. Despite the cover, it doesn’t disturb in a manner akin to horror flicks.

It’s about depravity and inhabits it’s own dark shred of sadness that doesn’t require a specific genre. Let’s call it what it is: A student film.

There’s a lot I don’t like.

In particular, I really hate the fetus-stomping blonde (or Lady in Radiator, played by Laurel Near) with the fatty cheeks. It’s never fun when she shows up; out of tune and singing the saddest song ever.

Any scene involving the deformed baby, its grotesque skin disease or the anxiety-inducing wail of sorrow; I’d happily discharge from my brain.

It’s the single cringe-worthiest hundred minutes of my life. And I’ve seen a couple movies that’ll convert an entire nunnery.

Jack Nance as Henry Spencer is very good.

The Girl Across the Hall (played by Judith Anna Roberts) is also solid. She dons a low cut dress and walks with a sinewy strut that’ll entrance.

But all the acting is good, I suppose. Allen Joseph as Mr. X is an oddball who offers the only chuckle.

Lynch apparently likes featuring scenes of a spotlight on an empty stage. The same idea shows up in Mulholland Drive. I don’t know what the hell to do with it.

More often I wonder whether it’s worth the ponder.

Towards the beginning, Henry traverses squat mounds of ashy dust while a train whistle blares in the background. Considering the subject material, I wonder if it’s in reference to Ernest Hemingway’s Hills Like White Elephants. That short story’s about debating abortion and a couple torn up by unexpected pregnancy.

And it’s Hemingway; it’s wildly unpleasant. But much more enjoyable than Eraserhead.

Okay, I’ll slow down with the pessimism for a moment.

To be honest with you I could hate on this movie a lot more than I’m going to. It has redeeming qualities but they bring the rating up to a whopping one star. I’m not mad about it; it’s just not what I go to a movie for.

These moments of redemption are few and far between. There’s a lot of intricate camera angles involving shadows and how they fall on the characters.

Even the majority of the smart stuff leaves a bad taste in my mouth! Like the leafless twig thrust into a pile of soil upon the nightstand. Dirt granules certainly spill onto his mattress on occasion.

There are two particularly noteworthy scenes. They’re both gross and unsettling, but somehow they shine amidst the pit of yuck.

When Henry’s in bed with a woman, they’re wrapped up in the sheets like a spider, and her teeth are chattering like she’s freezing. The spindly way she’s twisting, contorting and toiling amidst the covers is creepy and discomforting.

The other scene involves Henry making love to a woman, and their infidelity descending into milky white tub water situated in the center of the bed. It’s a beautiful shot and really a thought-provoking scene with a fascinating dynamic.

But even then, it’s still pretty unsettling.

Ugh! There’s so much filth in Henry’s room. The sound effects and score are constantly ghoulish, grotesque, creaky, whistley, shadowy, lurid, crackly, scratchy and overall irksome.

It’s an Odyssey through disgust, silt and darkness. And it’s the rockiest ride amidst a meteor shower.

Do yourself a favor and skip Eraserhead, and check out Mulholland Drive or Blue Velvet instead. Only the biggest of Lynch’s fans will like this. It’s ‘un-good.’

By the way, I don’t know what he saw in it, but I still highly admire Mel Brooks.

Looks like it’s time to catch The Elephant Man.

★★

Briefer takes at IMDb & Letterboxd.

For better 70’s film check The French Connection. Or different Lynch Wild at Heart.

Annie Hall

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

What sets Woody Allen movies apart is the prerequisite.

You must be a certain age to truly appreciate them. I think you need at least two decades under your belt before you can grasp the implications behind the character interactions, the political banter and all the cultural references.

Annie Hall is only the third Woody film I’ve seen besides Midnight in Paris and Blue Jasmine. And I like it just as much.

The plot is basically a self-narrated character study of Alvy Singer (played by Woody) during the time in his life when he loved Annie Hall (played by Diane Keaton).

This thirty-six year old movie holds up! I watched it with my Dad yesterday and we were both having a laugh.

It took home the Oscar for Best Picture in 1977 as well as three others: two for Woody himself (Best Director, Best Screenplay) and one for Diane (Best Actress).

Christopher Walken must be bummed because he was in two best pictures in back to back years (Deer Hunter nabbed the Oscar in ’78) and hasn’t been in one since.

What makes this film great is the humor and the style. I get the feeling that every beat, every complete thought contains some sort of joke. It’s all about subtlety, nuance, irony and implication when it comes to the funny.

At times I’m consciously deciphering the wording of a dialogue exchange, and will give up because the discussion’s moving ahead without me.

For example, there is a scene in which Annie and Alvy are talking on a rooftop, and subtitles translate the implications of each statement. I try to digest each sentence and corresponding subtitle, but can’t keep up.

And that’s how all of Annie Hall is: Packed with material and moving along at a lightning-fast pace.

The subtitles are only one example of the many occurrences in which the characters break the fourth wall. Alvy, Annie and Rob (Alvy’s best friend) revisit the scenes of his memories in a number of ways.

Rob, played by Tony Roberts, is great. There’s a scene where Alvy watches along disgusted as Rob orchestrates the laugh track for an episode of his sitcom. And, again, this is exemplary of the entire film, which keeps the audience chuckling ironically from a distance.

One narrative quirk that confuses me is an interaction between Rob and Alvy. Early on in the film, Alvy says, “Don’t call me Max,” and Rob replies, “Why? It’s a good name for you.” For the rest of the movie, Alvy and Rob refer to each other as Max. It’s hilarious. I’m sure it’s written that way purposefully. These types of stylistic oddities are scattered throughout.

The plot revolves around the settings of New York and Los Angeles. It compares and contrasts the traditional Jewish and Christian families of the main characters.

I love how Alvy grew up beneath a roller coaster. I also love his introduction into psychotherapy. It never seems to work out.

There’s a smart scene in which the frame is split in two and the main characters conduct therapy sessions concurrently. In this dichotomy, the monetary health of each individual becomes a form of currency. Similarly, the sexual, emotional, and psychotherapeutic health are also forms of currency in their relationship. It’s a fascinating, not to mention pessimistic, method of breaking things down.

The discussion with his elementary school classmates, whose hair is akin to his adult self, is nothing short of brilliant. They stay children in his mind, but morphed slightly over time to better show himself.

I bet that sounds complicated. What’s uncomplicated is Jeff Goldblum’s cameo. He’s on the telephone at a party and says, “I forgot my mantra.”

Larry David pays homage to the Wagner joke in an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. That animation scene was very original filmmaking for its time. If I hadn’t heard about it before viewing, it would have blown past me.

The ending is fantastic. Like the rest of the film, it’s nothing short of brilliant.

Woody’s still inspired.

★★★★★ ★★★★★

Briefer takes at IMDb & Letterboxd.

Check out Diner for another classic that holds up!

Casablanca

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film Reviews1 Comment

It’s up for debate whether or not this film holds up.

If forced to pick a side, I say it does.

The reason I can’t commit to a hard and fast argument is because I’ve seen the film twice. Once in high school, six years ago.

The second occasion is yesterday night at the Music Box Theater in Chicago. The print is being screened as a promotion for the upcoming Turner Classic Movie Festival.

And the crowd is so eager to laugh at every minor joke, they completely overcompensate and ruin much of the movie.

The uproarious laughter is loud enough it stifles half the dialogue, and serves as a constant reminder we’re in a theater. There are some who will give pre-emptive laughs, chuckling during the buildup and destroying any comedic timing.

I sure hope the devil reserves a special place in Hell for these people. But I guess I should talk about the movie at some point or another.

Casablanca is very good, especially considering it’s release in 1943.

It is the epitome of a ‘classic movie.’ Yes, yes?

Humphrey Bogart as Rick Blaine and Claude Rains as Capt. Louis Renault steal the show in this film. It’s a lot funnier than you might think.

There are lovable and despicable characters (which is always helpful) and dare I say it, some heartwarming moments.

In black and white! Can you believe it – kids in my Proverbial Audience?

(I’m prolific in the single-digit demographic.)

It’s a film about cynicism and impression, and can be surprisingly upbeat. The narrative is truly exceptional, and the ending is more than satisfactory.

This might be the most misquoted piece in history. Nobody ever says, “Play it again, Sam.”

I have no idea why that and, “Badges? Badges? We don’t need no stinking badges,” from Blazing Saddles are so commonly misquoted. It’s a rather strange phenomenon.

For some odd reason I thought Victor Laszlo was an antagonist, but I sure was wrong on that one. The role’s played by Paul Henreid, and he’s rather excellent as well. Peter Lorre, too, as Ugarte, is pretty great.

The hardest scene to swallow is his attempt to escape the police. The chase is a little silly.

What is it about Humphrey Bogart? Soon as I hear that brusque tone, I think, “Gee I like this fella.”

Maybe it’s him smoking that cigarette in the white jacket, or his ever-sustained calm.

He’s a great protagonist. And the movie’s a lot of fun.

I think you’ll like Casablanca.

If you haven’t seen it yet, check it out!

★★★ ★★★ ★★★

Briefer takes at IMDb & Letterboxd.

I prefer my black and white in tune, like Singin’ in the Rain.

Nebraska

On By Stephen LoveletteIn Film ReviewsLeave a comment

Shot in black and white and given its title, sounds like this one’s going to be a slog.

It’s surprisingly upbeat, at times. And despite the heavy material there are some heartwarming moments.

The humor’s light, subtle and grey, but there’s a handful of laugh-out-loud scenes. The two heavyset thickheaded cousins, played by Kevin Kunkel and Devin Ratray, are hilarious.

There’s a lot of sad dreariness you’ve got to wade through, but hey, it’s about a delusional old man who’s foolishly pursuing a fake million-dollar prize. It’s one of those films, but it’s pretty good!

If you don’t see a lot of movies, this isn’t a high priority on your list. It’s not a boring story; it’s dull subject matter woven into a compelling narrative.

Will Forte, Bruce Dern, June Squibb, Bob Odenkirk and Stacy Keach are all great in this movie. The acting’s seamless through and through.

The plot is occasionally frustrating, because everything that seems to go right is diminished by the events that follow.

I like Nebraska, there’s some funny stuff in here.

Easy to buy into the story. Content enough to be viewing, but feel like I’m grasping for reasons I enjoy it.

I really like the score for the first half of the movie and grow quite tired of it by the end.

This material doesn’t get me going though. I don’t really enjoy watching the sad inevitabilities of existence.

“But Steve! It’s real life man. It accurately depicts the way things are in reality.”

Yeah. It’s profound stuff.

Seriously though. Amour from last year, August Osage County and this film highlight the sad realities of being old. Hard thematic push toward these ideas at the Oscars.

I’m not sure why Nebraska’s up for Best Picture. It’s not nearly such an egregious error as August Osage or Gravity though.

This is a good enough movie with strong performances from a talented cast, and decent laughs.

Don’t rush out and see it.

But if you like to see all the worthwhile Oscar nominees, Nebraska should be on your list.

★★ ★★★ ★★

Briefer takes at IMDb & Letterboxd.

For better black and white check Casablanca.