So many movies ... so little time ...

On this day in 1999 (in the U.S.), Candyman 3: Day Of The Dead enjoyed its birth on broadcast television.  Written (in part) and directed by Turi Meyer, the film starred Tony Todd, Donna D'Errico, Alexia Robinson, and others. 

According to our friends at IMDB.com, here's the plot summary:

"The Candyman is back, trying to convince his descendent, an artist, to join him."

-- EZ
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One of the greatest challenges to both watching and review older films – especially those a good many of our cultural betters have dubbed amongst the best ever – is that there’s a mountain of information out there that works to influence one’s opinion.  Some even call this effect ‘unconscious bias.’
 
You see, I watch a lot of films.  (I do mean a lot of films.)  Also, I read about a great deal of film production.  I listen to a great deal of audio commentaries, and I’m always conducting some level of research – big and small – with which to update SciFiHistory.Net.  As such, I’m constantly being exposed to facts, figures, and opinions regarding a vast number of domestic and foreign releases; and it’s becoming increasingly easy for critical perceptions to get dripped in and dropped about along the way.  Consequently, I’m always – always – being told which films are worth my time and which are not; and this sometimes does get in the way of allowing me to organically make up my own mind on a specific effort here and there.  I’m human, so I do make a conscious effort to drown out as much of that noise as I can; but – more often than not – it seeps in when I’m trying to figure out what tasty little cinematic morsel I’d like to digest next.
 
Suffice it to say, I’ve both read and heard a lot – the vast majority of it very positive – about 1944’s The Uninvited, a feature directed by Lewis Allen from a story by Dodie Smith, Frank Partos, and Dorothy Macardle.  The film stars the great Ray Milland, Ruth Hussey, Donald Crisp, Cornelia Otis Skinner, and Gail Russell in prominent roles.  Essentially, it’s billed as a ghost story; and – superficially – I think that’s accurate.  But like most productions, the script weaves other genres in there, some of it Fantastical, some of it romantic, some of it comedic, and so on and so forth.  Because I’d heard so much about the feature, I’ve long watched for it to turn up in rotation on cable; and I’d even watched for the previous Criterion home video release to drop to a sale price I’d be willing to pay for what’s mostly a ‘blind buy.’
 
Well …
 
The day has come when I can finally pull one from the Bucket List as I’ve given The Uninvited a spin and come up with some initial thoughts on the effort.  Mind you: while watching, I did the best I could to switch off those filters in my brain, reminding myself me that just because everyone else out there insists it’s one of the best scares to emerge from the 1940’s doesn’t necessarily make it so.  It wasn’t easy in a few spots – downright difficult here and there – but I’ve finally stepped over that threshold and put my own work into figuring out what all of it meant and whether or not its reputation is deserved.
 
Buckle up.  This might get ugly.
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(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A composer and his sister discover that the reason they are able to purchase a beautiful gothic seacoast mansion very cheaply is the house's unsavory past.”
 
When trying to choose something casually to watch, I’ve been known to pick out something older as opposed to something fresh.
 
While the simple truth is that I just tend to like older films, I’ll also concede that it isn’t easy to find a choice that’s both (A) truly old and (B) truly great.  Not every black-and-white can change the way films are made in the way 1941’s Citizen Kane did.  Not every ‘classic’ continues to open doors in the way 1942’s Casablanca did.  Yes, there’s arguably more – 1941’s The Maltese Falcon, 1948’s Key Largo, 1951’s The Day The Earth Stood Still, 1935’s G-Men, 1957’s 12 Angry Men, 1962’s To Kill A Mockingbird, etc. – and I’m always on the lookout for something that has both stood the test of time and deserves to stand side-by-side with that solid handful of theatrical greatness I’ve mentioned.  The problem arises when my expectations of a certain title were led to be much richer than the finish product is.
 
Such is the case with The Uninvited, a rather thin and still somewhat convoluted chiller that takes far too much time meandering through its deliberate dark shadows to establish a central story that’s worth its 100-minutes running time.  The film rather leisurely strolls through some curious set-up (which I’ll get to), suggesting it’s going to be one thing when it becomes something different, and it delivers a kinda/sorta double finale where one half is entirely predictable and the other half is … well … silly.  (Maybe even supernaturally silly, if you can accept that.)  It’s a rather steep letdown from all I’ve been told about the project and let me tell you why I think that is.
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Roderick ‘Rick’ Fitzgerald (played by Ray Milland) and his sister Pamela (Ruth Hussey) are Americans on the hunt for some new digs in the English countryside when they stumble upon Windward House, a seemingly abandoned manor set atop a cliff with the roaring seas visible from the front porch.  Wandering inside, they slowly begin to fall in love with the place, so much so that Roderick decides to make an inquiry as to whether or not its on the market.  Commander Beech (Donald Crisp) – its present owner – is curiously willing to part with the estate for an extremely low price, though the sale looks to bring about a bit of disappointment from the man’s granddaughter Stella (Gail Russell).  Once the Fitzgeralds have taken up residence, however, young Stella is slowly won over by the Americans; and she accepts the invitation to join them one evening for dinner.
 
What’s become increasingly clear to all involved is that Windward House was never truly alone: a spectral entity appears to have long inhabited the place, and it definitely ‘takes a shine’ to the youthful Stella whenever she’s around.  Before you know it, the young woman is a bit possessed; and she runs through the front door in an attempt to throw herself from the cliff to the rocks below, only to be snatched safely by Rick – who’s also smitten with the girl – at the last second.  The town physician – Dr. Scott (Alan Napier) – is called to the home, and it’s at this juncture that everyone begins to learn that there’s definitely a backstory to the place involving Stella and her parents which suggests spirits are alive (dead?) and well at the manor.
 
Now, there’s more – a bit more involving some arguments between the Fitzgeralds and Commander Beech, along with a séance staged to free the house of spectral influences – but it’s all delivered, sadly, with little more than the usual 1940’s Hollywood melodrama, meaning everything goes down forcefully with plenty of grains of salt.  Rick and Stella’s emerging courtship is the kind of thing that Tinseltown never really handled well artistically in that age, suggesting that men and women knew at an instant when they were head-over-heels in love with one another.  Given that Milland was nearly old enough to be Russell’s father at the time of filming, their courtship never quite shakes the level of creepiness that comes with such couplings.  This isn’t to suggest in any way that young and old can’t both fall in love and mature respectfully over time: it’s just that there was no real wooing – just a chance conversation or two – and voila!  Ain’t love grand?
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Furthermore, there’s a good deal of background involving Stella’s parents – who they were, what happened to them, etc. – which only gets explored via exposition.  Rather than showing us – the audience – what transpired, we’re given several small speeches – with one or two revisions as the plot unfolds – and, in the process, it becomes a bit hard to follow if not downright uninteresting.  Today’s storytellers accomplish much of the same with flashbacks; and I think that technique might’ve helped alleviate a bit of the resulting confusion had director Allen opted to use it.  When we’re not truly told what took place until the last reel – when necessity rears its head so that the ghosts’ identities make sense – it grow tiresome keeping up with the shifting narrative.  Frankly, I’m not exactly certain the involvement of nearby psychiatric ward headmistress Miss Holloway (Cornelia Otis Skinner) makes perfect sense; while the actress puts in an interesting performance, the only thing missing from her face is a handlebar mustache I expected her to be evilly twirling – while laughing devilishly – in her last scene.
 
So far as I see it, the problem here was that I was never truly invited to care about these characters.  While their respective acting is perfectly fine, the script asks me to accept some conventions that could’ve benefitted from more substance.  For example, why are brother and sister at the ripe ages still not only living together but also searching for new property to own jointly?  It isn’t as if there’s still a mother around that they’re forced to continue caring about; and given the fact that Rick is rather quick to think about settling down with Stella I can’t see any rational explanation for the family pairing.  Was she homeless?  Was he indigent?  Also, in no time flat, Pam appears ready, willing, and able to move along with dear old Dr. Scott – it’s a last reel development, too – so … help me out here?  What were the two doing sharing a house in the first place?  Did they not know it’s wartime England?
 
Structurally, The Uninvited also poses a challenge for how the storytellers truly wanted this yarn to unfurl.  The film’s opening includes a voice-over narration from Milland (in character, of course), giving one the impression that what you’re about to see is unfolding entirely as a flashback from Rick’s perspective.  Granted, it really only amounts to setting the stage, but in my experience voice-overs like this are deliberate choices made either by the director, the studio, or the writer.  However, they usually have a greater purpose; and yet this one doesn’t.  It’s just there, and then the technique completely vanishes from the picture.  While I kept waiting for Rick to pop in and give me more, he never did, leaving me a bit confused as to why he even spoke up in the first place.
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Now, what works extremely well in The Uninvited involves some solid production detail, along with one of the screen’s earliest depictions of ghosts or spirits appearing ethereal if at all.  Director Allen goes to pretty good lengths to use effects that are suggestive of something dire rather than rushed and demanding of time and space.  There’s a great sequence of picked flowers aging almost instantly in the presence of some spectral entity.  There’s solid use of sounds – moans and laughter, chiefly – which help to establish the film’s heady atmosphere of dread.  Lastly, there’s a wonderful bit of the ghost(s) itself that rendered just out-of-focus in a way that understandably has the players and the audience questioning what it is we’re seeing; and that, too, goes a long way toward establishing ample ‘spook factor’ that deserves some of the praise that the film has received over the years.
 
Still, The Uninvited stumbles a bit in the final reel when it goes for not one but two big finishes.  First, Stella nearly falls to her death – it’s that dreaded cliff again, someone really should’ve put up a fence! – and the sequence is strong, effective, and makes the kind of startling punch the story needed.  But after this the ensemble gathers into the manor for the purposes of revisiting the story, settling on the identity of the big phantom baddie, and watches in horror as the ghoul shows its unfocused face yet again!  While this could’ve been used to effectively give Stella the chance to say goodbye (it’ll make sense when you see it), the screenwriters instead chose to give Rick some heroic last scene where he scolds the ghost in mano a mano style to just leave them all alone.
 
Sigh.
 
Where’s a Ghostbuster when you need one?

And cross the streams while you’re at it!
​

The Uninvited (1944) was produced by Paramount Pictures.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Criterion.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video expert, I still found the provided sights and sounds to be pretty damn exceptional across the entire film.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The packaging asserts that this is a new 2K film restoration, and the disc includes two radio adaptations of the original story.  The theatrical trailer is also available, and there’s a collector’s booklet with an essay and interview to consider.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
More melodrama than major chiller, The Uninvited (1944) really only works for me when it gives way to the possibilities of ghosts and ghouls engaging in shenanigans on our side of reality … and that’s far too few instances to really get excited about.  Though the cast is good, the script relies on far too many storytelling conventions of the day for this one to stand alongside many of the vastly greater and more effective thrillers – especially what Universal Studios was doing with their early forays into Horror.  Though I’ll not call it a complete disappointment, that doesn’t escape the fact that I’m really gobsmacked to have been assured that this was one of the great films to emerge from the 1940’s – indeed, it was a box office sensation the year of its original release – with so unmoving a central story.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that I’m beholden to no one for this review of The Uninvited (1944) as I purchased a copy for my collection on my own dime.

-- EZ
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(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters.  If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment.  If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
 
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Cool private investigator Lew Harper is hired by a wealthy California matron to locate her kidnapped husband.”
 
Over the years, the chief complaint registered against movies involving private eyes is that they’re so obviously formulaic that it’s easy to see which character in a given production is serving which required purpose.
 
In other words, there’s the lead – the private dick himself (or herself) – and he (or she) isn’t so much a man of action as he is a person of conviction.  There’s a moral code that must be followed in society, and it’s his responsibility to see that such guidelines are being followed … or else.  Then, there’s the client, usually a person of wealth or means, and living a life behind such insulation has produced a particular desire to see all tasks completed precisely to specific demands.  After all, being amongst the social elite grants one certain privileges, does it not?  Of course, there will also be a retinue of lesser players – the private eye’s trustworthy friend and colleague, the members of the opposite sex swooning with almost rabid hunger, the damsel-in-distress, the hyperbolic states attorney, etc. – and its this devotion to formula which is often cited as the central reason most avoid such stories.  Having both read and watched such efforts for decades, I can assure you that, yes, that much is true.
 
However, fans of the classic detective stories can also make a case that its this narrative familiarity that draws our interest as well.  There’s a great deal of solace in stepping into a world that has pieces so properly fitted together because – unlike reality – these fictional haunts make sense.  Everyone has a role or a part to play – even if that means they’re here to inevitably become yet one more victim – because it’s this activity that serves as catalysts for justice to be not only sought and attained, often at a very high price.  Procedures are followed.  Clues are unearthed.  Actions are suddenly suspected.  Rest assured that all of these gears are turning precisely because they’re a required component to unmasking the culprit in the final reel – as is the custom – and the best scribes – both literary and for the screen – continue to discover small ways to keep the formula working.  It ain’t easy.  Yet, it’s a business.
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1966’s Harper has the benefit of emerging from one of literature’s best of the genre: Ross Macdonald published The Moving Target in April of 1949 (per Wikipedia.org), introducing readers to his private eye Lew Archer (renamed Harper for the film).  Archer’s run stretched to an impressive seventeen novels – no small feat for a gumshoe – and it’s worth mentioning that the script adapted by William Goldman went on to win the 1967 Edgar Allan Poe Award in the category of ‘Best Motion Picture.’  For those unawares, the Edgars celebrate outstanding achievements of the mystery genre; so it’s safe to conclude that Harper minimally represents the kind of storytelling mystery writers (and their fans) long to see up in the lights regardless of whether or not it’s been done before.
 
Being a fan of such fare, I find it easy to applaud a good deal of what director Jack Smight accomplished with the production.  Indeed, Newman makes for an affable lead: though he’s probably far too good-looking to be accepted in such an urban lowlife who lives paycheck to paycheck, the actor manages to squeeze himself like a chameleon into the situations and circumstances with ease.  When required, he plays a part – that of an outcast or a slight nitwit – and he even seems to be having a bit of fun at the expense of those around him.  The labyrinthian story – another staple of the crime novel – likely makes more sense to him than it might to audiences, giving the actor the chance to demonstrate he's capable of both living and operating in certain circles wherein life isn’t valued as equally as it should be.  Ultimately, Newman’s characterization – whether it works all of the time or not – makes Harper a better flick than it inevitably turns out to be.
 
Additionally, the production truly gives new meaning to the adjective “star-studded” as the picture is loaded with faces familiar to the bygone era of Hollywood.  Elaine Sampson (played by Lauren Bacall) hires the shamus to sniff out the whereabouts of her missing husband; and the assignment puts Harper up-close-and-personal with the requisite snobs of the upper crust – attention-seeking daughter Miranda Sampson (Pamela Tiffin), family boy-toy Allan Taggert (Robert Wagner), constable to the rich and famous Spanner (Harold Gould) – all the way down to the social hangers-on who’ve fallen into a measure of disrepute – fading starlet Fay Estabrook (Shelley Winters), wacky self-help guru Claude (Strother Martin), etc. – due to vices they can’t quite control or choose not to.  Harper navigates this maze with relative ease, suffering the usual beatdowns along the way, and it all feels as though its likely faithful to the pages of the Macdonald tome.
​

Still, it’s hard to dismiss the feeling that something just ain’t right with the completed project.
 
Newman’s a bit too genial in the lead, never really showing signs that he was ever in any real jeopardy when his life was on-the-line; and some of this might be owed to the fact that – as a star – perhaps he was simply too big to appear in a role wherein his life should’ve, would’ve, and could’ve always been at risk.  While he plays it just fine, methinks that the audience might’ve found it a pill too big to swallow, even up to the point wherein his estranged wife Susan (Vivian Leigh) finds him yet again knocking on her door when the man has nowhere else to turn.  We know she’s going to let him in, not so much because that’s the recipe but because it’s Paul Newman (for Christ’s sake!) and where would a Paul Newman film be without Paul Newman finding comfort in the arms of a beautiful woman.  That isn’t quite how things worked in detective fiction – at least, not always – and perhaps a lesser steward would’ve made this one a tad more credible.
 
You see, investigators like Sam Spade or Philip Marlowe never quite had the good looks they could fall back on to help them out in a pinch.  Hell, Mike Hammer more often than not led with his fists, and it was his pure, unbridled machismo – not charisma – that got him in bed with the girls well before the closing pages.  With Newman in the lead, it’s a foregone conclusion that the case is going to be solved and order restored precisely because he’s Paul Newman; and perhaps such name and face recognition didn’t help the fact that this color-by-numbers procedural never strays outside-the-lines in any way, shape, or form.  It’s … well … it’s entertaining is what it is, but it never resonates as if our hero was ever in any authentic danger.
 
His star was just too big.
 
Of course, I realize that some of this might be owing to the fact that I’m reviewing Harper in 2025 versus 1966 in the year of its release.  However, Newman’s star was well on-the-rise in the 1950’s, putting this one probably smack in the middle of the years when his clout was at its strongest.  A lesser known commodity – or, at least, someone a bit less photogenic – could’ve made this one stronger for this crime aficionado.
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Harper (1966) was produced by Gershwin-Kastner Productions.  DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive.  As for the technical specifications?  While I’m no trained video video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be of very solid quality.  Lastly, if you’re looking for special features?  The disc includes an introduction from Turner Classic Movies’ host Robert Osborne, the theatrical trailer, and a commentary from screenwriter Goldman.  It’s an acceptable assortment for the entire affair.
 
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
 
About the best that can be said circumstantially for Harper (1966) is that not only is it Newman’s film but also he seems to be having too much fun in it.  His private eye antics never quite match the charismatic cool of Humphrey Bogart or Ralph Meeker but – with a bit more polish – could wind up in territory not far off from what Jim Carrey accomplished as ‘Ace Ventura.’  Thankfully, everyone else is along for the ride; and the performances – while admittedly stereotypical as the hard-boiled source required – work just fine.  It’s the kind of feature that likely satisfies for one-time consumption but probably won’t generate much heat for a rewatch, especially for connoisseurs of the genre.
 
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Allied Vaughn provided me with a complimentary DVD of Harper (1966) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review.  Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.

-- EZ
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Argh, folks.  There are certain things I do hate about being a media pundit.

While he may not exactly have been extremely well-known in genre circles, there's no discounting the reality that actor Julian McMahon certainly left his mark on Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror.  Granted, it may not have been in huge ways, but there are footsteps in place, nonetheless.  I'll try to highlight a few of them.

One of his very first real gigs was aboard NBC's Profiler (1996-2000), a police-style procedural that definitely dabbled very closely with its Psychological Horror storylines.  He was part of an ensemble focusing on a Violent Crimes Task Force that worked across several federal agencies in rooted out some real, real bad guys (and girls) committing some heinous acts.  If you haven't seen it, then you've really missed something special.  It even dabbled with some long-form storytelling across its multiple seasons, and it's quite good.

​From there, McMahon really went heavily into the world of Fantasy with a long-running supporting roles aboard Charmed (2000-2005).  IMDB.com indicates that he clocked in an impressive 47 episodes for the franchise, and that's no chump change, indeed.

Still, it was 2005 when he really made an impact.  Given that 'All Roads Lead To Marvel,' the actor was given the rather daunting task of envisioning one of the entertainment juggernauts biggest baddies, bringing life to Dr. Doom -- aka Victor Von Doom -- in Fantastic Four.  It was a role he'd reprise again in 2007's somewhat rushed sequel, Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer, a two-fer that wasn't quite as big and bold as what Marvel would be doing a few years later but still tickled a lot of fancies, if you know what I mean.

​Other ventures into like-minded fare include work aboard such projects as Premonition (2007), Robot Chicken (animated), Hunters, Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency, Monster Party (2018), and Marvel's Runaways.

Alas, none of us lasts forever, but there are those of us who get to live on in film and broadcast media.  The actor definitely knew something about creating screen charisma, and I hope his work continues to shine for the generations yet to discover his talent.

Our warmest prayers are extended to the family, friends, and fans of Julian McMahon.

May he rest in peace ...

-- EZ