Three series, nine movies

[One to four stars. Four sentences each. No spoilers.]

Mare of Easttown (dir. Craig Zobel, 2021). A seven-episode mini-series starring Kate Winslet as Mare Sheehan, a detective in a small tight-knit (or horribly knotted) Pennsylvania town, trying to solve a string of murders while struggling with a recent familial trauma. Many story lines branching off and intersecting, great writing, and excellent performances from Winslet, Jean Smart (as Mare’s mother Helen), and everyone else. It’s fun to count the tropes: the smartypants new guy, the badge and gun turned in, and so on. The one false note is the visiting creative-writing professor, whose sole book appeared twenty years ago, but his presence might be a joke on the part of the show’s writers. ★★★★

*

McCartney 3, 2, 1 (dir. Zachary Heinzerling, 2021). Rick Rubin talks with Paul McCartney about Beatle songs and Beatle history. That is all ye need to know. Countless revelations about what’s in the tracks: for instance, that the guitar solo in “A Hard Day’s Night” was played at half speed an octave down and then speeded up. As it’s Paul speaking, there’s an occasional backhanded compliment, but the overriding spirit here is his and Rubin’s retrospective joy about what the lads created — and oh, those bass lines when you hear them by themselves. ★★★★

*

The Comeback (created by Lisa Kudrow and Michael Patrick King, 2005 and 2014). An astute consumer of media recommended The Comeback as her favorite television series of all time. It’s a good call. Lisa Kudrow is an incredibly gifted actor (I didn’t know that), here playing Valerie Cherish, a one-time sit-com star trying to get back in the game, even if the game requires reality-TV crews recording her every move as she takes on roles in two new sit-coms. A funny and painful mockumentary series that made me root for its kind, hopeful, clueless, self-obsessed heroine, always trying to do her best in a cruel, cruel business. ★★★★

*

Summer of Soul (dir. Questlove, 2021). You probably know the story: a free outdoor music event, the Harlem Cultural Festival, spanning six Sunday afternoons in the summer of 1969, preserved on film and set aside (for lack of commercial interest) for fifty years. This documentary has generous performance clips, with commentary from musicians and concert-goers. The standouts, for me: the Fifth Dimension (with Billy Davis Jr. and Marilyn McCoo watching their performance and talking about the racial politics of music), Mahalia Jackson and Mavis Staples, Gladys Knight and the Pips, and Sly and the Family Stone. It’s reported that Jimi Hendrix sought to be included but was deemed too far out: imagine how his presence or, say, Miles Davis’s presence, might have electrified (no pun intended) the proceedings. ★★★★

*

The Good Die Young (dir. Lewis Gilbert, 1954). Shades of The Asphalt Jungle: a London gentleman (Laurence Harvey) leads an American vet (Richard Basehart), an American Air Force sergeant (John Ireland), and a British ex-boxer (Stanley Baker) in an effort to commit a perfect crime. Things here are complicated by the men’s marriages: to Margaret Leighton, Joan Collins, Gloria Grahame, and Rene Ray. Each marriage gets a separate piece of the movie. And slowly the four stories are woven together through the fatal magic of contingency. ★★★★

*

Clockwatchers (dir. Jill Sprecher, 1997). The clocks are on the walls of the Global Credit Association, where four temps, Iris, Margaret, Paula, and Jane (Toni Collette, Parker Posey, Lisa Kudrow, Alanna Ubach), establish a wobbly solidarity against the permanently employed. When things begin to go missing from other people’s desks, it’s the temps who fall under suspicion. A great depiction of the torpor of office culture: IBM Selectrics, supply rooms, Happy Hours, and camaraderie among people who have little in common but the circumstances of their labor. Posey and Kudrow shine. ★★★★

*

The Donut King (dir. Alice Gu, 2020). This documentary starts out well, telling the story of Bun Tek Ngoy (later Ted Ngoy), a Cambodian refugee who became a dominant figure in California donut culture. At first we get a story of success against long odds: a penniless man learns the trade at a Winchell’s Donut House, saves money, goes into business for himself, and is soon sponsoring and then employing other Cambodian refugees in a donut-shop empire. But early and late, there are much darker elements in Ngoy’s story, only some of which the movie acknowledges (hint: read Ngoy’s Wikipedia article). At about fifty minutes in, the movie seemed to wrap up and start over, as if someone were whispering, “It needs to be longer.” ★★

*

Turn the Key Softly (dir. Jack Lee, 1953). One day in the lives of three women just released from prison and returning to London. The backstories: genteel Monica (Yvonne Mitchell) fell in with bad company and took the rap; Stella (Joan Collins), now engaged, was engaged in prostitution; Mrs. Quilliam (Kathleen Harrison) did more than her share of shoplifting. Their three lives now converge in odd and surprising ways. Fine performances, and for anyone afraid of heights, a terrifying scene at a theater. ★★★★

*

Confidential Agent (dir. Herbert Shumlin, 1945). It’s 1937, the Spanish Civil War is raging, and confidential agent Luis Denard (Charles Boyer) has come to London looking to buy coal for the Republican government. The helpers and hinderers he encounters include a wealthy Brit (Lauren Bacall, not even trying to fake a British accent), a teacher of an Esperanto-like language (Peter Lorre), a hotel proprietor (Katina Paxinou), and a maid of all work (Wanda Hendrix). The movie looks back to The 39 Steps and forward to Dark Passage. From a novel by Graham Greene, with great cinematography by James Wong Howe. ★★★★

*

The Conspirators (dir. Jean Negulesco, 1944). Paul Henreid is Viktor Laszlo, Vincent Van Der Lyn, Czech Dutch resistance fighter, newly arrived in Casablanca Lisbon, and preparing to travel to Lisbon London. Yes, this movie shamelessly borrows atmosphere, cast members, and plot elements from Casablanca, and that’s fine by me. My favorite moment: Vincent ordering dinner, beginning with bread and butter and ending with real coffee. With Sydney Greenstreet, Hedy Lamarr, and Peter Lorre. ★★★★

*

Across the Pacific (dir. John Huston, 1942). It’s November 1941, and Humphrey Bogart is Rick Blaine Rick Leland, court-martialed in the States, now on his way to fight with the Chinese military, traveling via the Panama Canal. Also on board his ship: Alberta Marlow (Mary Astor) and Dr. Lorenz (Sydney Greenstreet), who bring considerable Maltese Falcon atmosphere to the proceedings — Rick even calls Astor’s character “Angel.” And look: there’s even a Japanese gunsel. Mystery and suspense in a satisfying dose of “the movies,” with the bonus of Astor and Bogart in some light comic moments. ★★★★

*

Yellow Canary (dir. Herbert Wilcox, 1943). As confusing as all get out, whatever “all get out” means. Here we’re traveling from England to Nova Scotia, on a ship carrying a British Nazi collaborator (Anna Neagle), a Polish military man (Albert Lieven), and a British intelligence officer (Richard Greene). What are they up to, and what’s Nova Scotia got to do with it? It takes a long time for things to become clear, and then the movie gets markedly better. ★★★

Related reading
All OCA film posts (Pinboard)

[Sources: Criterion Channel, HBO Max, Hulu, TCM, YouTube.]