Of necessity, because information is skimpy, Robertson devotes only
three paragraphs to Curtiz's early career in Hungary. There are only
five more about his days in Vienna, which brought him to the attention
of Jack and Harry Warner--probably because Robertson primarily wants
to discuss the films that most of us have seen. Nine pages are devoted
to Curtiz's silent films and those in which he made the transition
to sound. Chapter 3 examines the director's output (1930-35) as he
expanded his repertoire of genres: musicals, horror films (Dr. X and
The Mystery of the Wax Museum,The Walking Dead), detective dramas (The Kennel Murder
Case), social protest (20,000 Years in Sing Sing and Black Fury),
and adventure/spectacle (Captain Blood). Although their variability
depended on the assignments, the films of the late thirties form an
impressive list of crowd-pleasing entertainments: The Charge of the
Light Brigade, Kid Galahad, The Adventures of Robin Hood, Four Daughters,
Angels with DirtyFaces, Dodge City, The Sea Hawk, and The Sea Wolf
Robertson always takes care to remind readers of the box-office earnings
of these popular movies; and to Curtiz's advantage, his record is
compared, artistically and commercially, to that of his onetime colleague
at Warners, Mervyn LeRoy.
In the forties, there was more of the same, with Janie and the like
following Yankee Doodle Dandy and Casablanca. Curtiz is said to have
seen the potential of Mildred Pierce as a film noir, as if he also
anticipated the coining of the term: In keeping with his reputation
for versatility, Curtiz directed some dire projects (Night and Day)
and some prestigious ones (Mission to Moscow and Life With Father).
I would agree with the author that Curtiz's masterpiece is The Breaking
Point (1950). "Far and away the most successful serious attempt to
bring the spirit of Hemingway to the screen," this version of To Have
and Have Not stands in stark contrast to the Howard Hawks film of
that title, which relates in no way to Hemingway's novel. The film
displays Curtiz's gift for drawing superior performances from actors:
John Garfield, Patricia Neal, Phyllis Thaxter, and Juano Hernandez
were never better. I wonder, as Robertson does, why it is not available
for viewing. (It is not on video cassette, and television stations
do not schedule it.)
Robertson devotes a brief chapter to Curtiz's later career, after
he left Warner Brothers. The move was assessed by Andrew Sarris in
American Cinema as a demonstration of artistic decline when studio
discipline was lacking. Robertson disagrees, arguing that White Christmas
is "very good light entertainment" and that The Egyptian for "sheer
spectacle" represents Curtiz at his best. Some readers may share my
opinion that the first is unwatch-able and the second is ponderous
and dull. Curtiz also took on several doomed projects, such as The
Vagabond King with Oreste. However, Robertson makes a case for reassessments
of King Creole, The Proud Rebel, and The Best Things in Life Are Free,
although he does not convince me that virtues can be found in The
Helen Morgan Story. Because Robertson is concerned almost entirely
with Curtiz's public career, he intimates, surprisingly, that Cur-
tiz may have become involved in several woeful films because he needed
money to support the illegitimate children he allegedly fathered.
Hardly ever is what we see on the screen related to his private life.
To establish Curtiz as an auteur is difficult, but he had the ability, as in Casablanca, "to weld player, writers, and technicians into a strong team." Like John Ford, Curtiz thought that a film should be cut in the camera, and like Billy Wilder he understood that a first- rate film cannot be made without a first-rate script.
By James Van Dyck Card, Old Dominion University
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