Rainy reset

It's been warm (up into the 50s) and it actually rained today (in February!) to wash all but the most stubborn remaining snow away.  People are emerging and finally removing their outdoor Xmas lights that it was too cold to bother with previously.  And now... fog!

 

Frozen Lake Follies

As Frederick hasn't felt up to going for walks lately, I haven't got to do a favorite winter activity of mine, which is walking on frozen lakes.  And as temps in the 50s are forecast in the next few days, it seemed like now might be the last wise time to try.  So I went for a little jaunt at Holly Rec.

 A couple of those (notably the selfie) were taken when my phone suddenly decided to drop to 3% power and dim the screen to the point where it was unreadable (apparently it can't stand the cold) so I couldn't see what I was taking.  Here's me crossing the lake:

 

Film review: Father Brown/The Detective (1954)

Well, this is a British film from the 50s, so guess who's the first actor you see in it?  If you guessed Sid James, you've been paying attention.  He is fleeing down the stairs of some sort of factory at night as Police climb them and somehow he manages to avoid them and get out to safety.  When the police get to their destination, which appears to be the payroll office, the shine their lights around and reveal Alec Guinness's Father Brown calmly replacing stacks of bills in the safe.  Nonetheless they arrest him and take him to the station 

and put him in a cell, after first emptying his pockets (he asks for his bar of chocolate, because he hasn't eaten) and taking his glasses, leaving him squinting like Mr. Magoo.  After some calls to other stations, looking for info on conmen who pose as priests (largely because the arresting officer refuses to believe he's really called "Brown" - although his first name is the much less prosaic "Ignatius"), they find somebody who knows of him because of his status as an amateur detective, and he is released, bearing them no animus.  In fact, very rarely do we see Father Brown betray annoyance (so that on the one occasion I remember, it's rather shocking), at most he is disappointed.  When he gets out, Sid James is there to meet him.  As we might have guessed, Father Brown worked out where Bert Parkinson (Sid's character) would be operating and talked him out of it.  As they walk together by the canal, Father Brown talks Bert into going straight, specifically as a chauffeur for a "friend of mine."  This turns out to be Lady Warren, played by Joan "posher-sounding Glynis Johns" Greenwood, 

who was also paired with Guinness in The Man in the White Suit.  (Another fellow Ealing Comedy castmate of Guinness's, Cecil Parker (who plays the first of The Ladykillers to lose his nerve and get bumped off) shows up as Father Brown's Bishop.)  Anyway, the main plot of the film concerns Father Brown's pursuit of notorious thief Flambeau, played by Peter Finch, whom I only knew for his final, Oscar-winning role in Network ("I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it any more!") but who is wonderful here, underplaying nicely and managing a believable French accent.

The initial battle is over a thousand-year-old cross (I think he says it was St. Augustine's) that needs to be sent to Rome.  The church is convinced that Flambeau will try to take it, so make plans to send it under armed guard.  Father Brown thinks this is ridiculous, and because "the best place to hide a leaf is in a forest" he suggests that a priest should carry it, as vast numbers of clergy are descending on Rome, and Flambeau won't know who has it.  When he gets overruled, Father Brown takes the cross anyway.  This is his first time outside of England, and he commiserates with a fellow priest on the very rough ferry ride.  They ride on together to Paris, where the other priest shows him around, having served on a mission or something there.  They are being followed by a team of an English policeman and a French, as it has been discovered that Father Brown has the cross.  As this will attract unwanted attention, Father Brown and the other priest (who spot the cops as they're eating at a cafe) 

escape on a bus and then down into the Catacombs... where Father Brown calls the other priest Flambeau, for of course it is he (under a fake goatee).  Where he went wrong, Father Brown reveals, is in ordering a ham sandwich at the cafe, as I think it is Friday.  Flambeau takes the parcel Father Brown is carrying, at which FB smugly says that he switched parcels and left the real crucifix back at the cafe.  Then Flambeau opens the parcel to reveal the crucifix and says he switched them back.  Then he ties up FB, changes clothes and limps out of the Catacombs, taking time to report to the cops that have followed them that he heard a disturbance at [revealing FB's location, so he wont have to stay tied up].  Of course FB is in huge hot water for disobeying orders and causing the loss of the crucifix, but FB is confident he can set things right.  And to do so he convinces Lady Warren to set a trap by auctioning a priceless chess set, because he knows Flambeau won't be able to resist it.

Father Brown does indeed catch Flambeau (seeing through another of his disguises because of another "ham sandwich"-style mistake) but (a) Flambeau returns the chess set (clearly taken with Lady Warren) 

and (b) FB helps him escape, for which he gets into more hot water.  BUT, he has a clue: he lifted Flambeau's cigarette case (it's revealed early in the film that he has the skills of an "oyster" which apparently was slang for pickpocket - he has also shown that he is a good wrestler) 

which has his family crest on it, so the first thing to do is return to Paris to a repository of French Heraldry.  

Will FB catch Flambeau?  Why does Flambeau steal (and then sometimes return it)?  Both times FB and Flambeau have encountered each other, they have been studiously polite, but Flambeau has become annoyed at FB's attempts to reform him.  He reveals that he steals because he is a man out of time: he has skills (as a fencer, as a horseman) that are obsolete, and tastes that he cannot afford to satiate, so he steals so he can have beautiful things.  Well, he's in for a real scolding if FB catches him again...

As with the books, one can enjoy the character and the story without being too nauseated by the gentle Catholic Propaganda (in this way it reminds me of the Don Camillo stories).  Alec Guinness is in prime Ealing Era comedic chameleon mode (with a very unfortunate haircut), which the part calls for, but which allows Peter Finch, who has a genuinely poignant edge to his performance, to more-or-less steal the picture.  As Jami remarked, it was more like a TV show than a proper film, but that's true of a lot of British cinema, particularly in the 50s, but all the performances are good, at least.  I'd certainly watch more of Guinness-as-Brown, so it's rather a shame there aren't any more. 

Film review: Little Caesar (1931)

This is the film that made the image of Edward G. Robinson that those of us weaned on Bugs Bunny Cartoons know well, 

and where he utters the immortal line "Mother of mercy, is this the end of Rico?" (And is probably the reason it's called RICO.)  Apparently it also entered the public domain on January 1st.  I hope somebody puts out a cleaned-up print of it, because what we watched on the Criterion Channel was not a patch on any of the films of this era and earlier available in the Criterion Collection or on Kino Lorber.

It's pre-code, which didn't mean much in this case except I picked up some serious homoerotic sub-text (our anti-hero, Caesar Enrico Bandello has "no time" for Dames, but is very attached to his buddy Joe (played by the much-taller Douglas Fairbanks Jr., 

who did not really distinguish himself in the role), to the extent that when Joe betrays him, this ruthless killer gets moist-eyed and not only can't bring himself to shoot him, he prevents his stooge from shooting him too.  The plot is pretty formulaic, too - the usual "ascent of the criminal ladder" plot that would be perfected in films like The Roaring Twenties.

We first see Joe and Rico at an all-night diner (getting "Spaghetti and coffee") after having pulled off a heist in the small town that is their stomping ground.  Rico reads a story in the paper about a big-time gangster getting feted and decides he needs to head East to where the action is.  Joe doesn't seem all that keen, and mutters about going back to being a dancer, but Rico informs him he's coming along.

Next, Rico does become a goon for a small-time boss called Sam Vettori 

(who gives Rico his titular nickname, and introduces Rico to his gang, such as Killer Peppi, Scabby, Kid Bean and Bat Korilla), who works for "Diamond" Pete Montana, who in turn works for a shadowy figure called "Big Boy" (no, he doesn't wear checked dungarees and carry burgers aloft).  

Joe does indeed go back to dancing, and, with the help of his new love "Olga," 

gets a job for what seems like the princely sum of $100 a week, dancing at the Bronze Peacock.  Alas, the club is owned by a rival of Sam's (Arnie Lorch) so Rico basically gives Joe no option but to help rob it on New Year's Eve.  To make matters worse, the new crusading (and incorruptible) Crime Commissioner, Alvin McClure was at the club, but was leaving because he found out who owned it (told you he was incorruptible) when Rico guns him down.  This makes Sam super-nervous, which prompts Rico to take over as gang boss, claiming that Sam's lost his nerve.  

(He isn't the only one: the driver, Tony, has a full-on panic attack, freezing at the wheel and then later crashing the car, and when one of the gang meets him walking on the street, he's on the way to talk to his priest.  So Rico has him gunned down on the steps of the church, in a killing that echoes Cagney's death in The Roaring Twenties.  

But he does make sure he gets a lavish funeral parade afterwards).  

Meanwhile McClure's former underling Thomas Flaherty 

(all the cops (and the priest) are Irish, all the gangsters Italian) swears that he's going to get Rico, after Rico survives an assassination attempt by Lorch with just a graze, 

and then drives Lorch out of town as punishment.  Rico's ambition gets him noticed by Big Boy (whose gaudy house dazzles Rico when he visits, a clear sign of his humble origins (as is his discomfort in the "monkey suit" he puts on to make the visit)

because it very much resembles something decorated by Donald Trump), who informs him that he is now to replace Diamond Pete in charge of the Northside territory.

Rico finally gets feted as he wanted, 

although things are soured somewhat when Flaherty visits and reveals that a watch identical to the one Rico has just been presented as a gift by his loyal men has just been snatched from a local Jeweller's.

At this point Rico grows paranoid that Joe will squeal on him and demands that he quit both dancing and Olga and come back to a life of crime.  The distraught Joe tries to get Olga to flee the city with him, but Olga is a cool customer and points out that Rico will track them wherever they go, so it's better to strike first and reveal to Flaherty that it was Rico who killed McClure (following?).  They hole up in the apartment and wait for Flaherty to come over, but the knock on the door turns out to be Rico and his most trigger-happy henchman Otero.  This is when the afore-mentioned tears and the saving-of-Joe happen, before Flahery shows up and the two hoods run for it down the fire escape.  Otero doesn't make it, but Rico does, and first hides out in a hidden room in Ma Magalena's Fruit Store, 

who refuses to be intimidated, and then he "takes to the gutter" to vanish.  We later find him in a flophouse, drinking alcohol (that he had fastidiously refused throughout the whole movie) and growing enraged at the anti-Rico taunts from Flaherty that a fellow bum is reading from the newspaper.  He calls up Flaherty to set up a showdown... and pretty soon this is indeed the end of Rico, 

gunned down behind a sign advertising Joe and Olga.

As I said, pretty corny stuff overall (for example, Tony's death is made all-but inevitable by him going home to visit his loving Ma after the shooting), but Robinson shines.  His voice is inimitable and he has that sheer force of personality that, like Cagney, makes him much larger than his stature.  Two scenes in particular stand out for me, both of which are where the director (Mervyn LeRoy - this is part of a collection of his films on the Criterion Channel) moves in slowly on his face and he conveys volumes without speaking.  This one is where he's paused while telling Joe what he will do in order to answer the phone, only to return to find that Joe has done a runner:

And the other is the tears scene:

proving that raw magnetism can come in stocky, unprepossessing packages.

Sewage fountain

 So we woke up this morning to floods in the basement.  The worse one was in what was the little bathroom, until it was dismantled in the great Mold Search, but it did leave a functional toilet, which appeared to have disgorged raw sewage all over the floor.  Also, in the laundry room, there were pools under the sink (famous as the sink that we once found a racoon hiding in when Grandpa visited).  Well, we got somebody to come about the sewage and he had to use various machines to unclog the pipes of the masses of [stop reading here if of a sensitive nature] wipes that had accumulated over the years, and in fact had to wrestle to such an extent that he literally broke the toilet and had to get us a new one.  After he left (leaving us to clean up [gagging noises]) the water under the sink reappeared, so we called him back, but he discovered it had nothing to do with the other problem, it was just that the pipe at the back of the sink had rusted out, so when the washing machine discharged into the sink, it just came gushing through.  So that needs fixing.  What an odd coincidence.  Lesson learned: "flushable" is a LIE.  The aftermath:

 

The Flamingo at its finest