Her story is like a French version of Princess Caraboo, with
her masquerading as a phony royal from Tunisia. Actually, she was played by Josephine
Baker, an American, so that rather makes her a citizen of the world. There are
a lot of less than pristine prints out there, but fortunately a fresh
restoration of Edmond T. Greville’s Princess Tam Tam (which we haven’t
seen) airs this afternoon as part of the 2021 TCM Classic Film Festival.
Max
de Mirecourt’s wastrel wife Lucie is so openly flirting with the rich and vapid
men of Paris (particularly the Maharajah of Datane), he must exile himself to
Tunisia to write the next novel he owes his publisher without her distractions.
Naturally, he brings along his ghostwriter Coton, to do the real work. Before
you can say “exotic othering” or another woke buzzword, de Mirecourt is following
the misadventures of Alwina, a high-spirited homeless shepherdess.
Much
to the surprise of Coton and their Muslim manservant Dar, de Mirecourt takes
quite a shine to Alwina. In fact, he decides she could be doubly useful to him,
inspiring his next novel and making his galivanting wife jealous, when he
brings her to Paris, posing as an African princess. The film takes a turn into Pygmalion
territory when de Mirecourt and Coton start prepping her to fool Parisian
high society. Of course, she starts to fall for him and he develops real
affection for her, but he still has feelings for his wife as well.
Due
to its elements of interracial romance, Princess Tam Tam was never
approved by the Hays Office, so it would be rather ironic if the hyper-sensitive
started objecting to its playfully innocent depiction of Alwina. Frankly, the
entire farcical premise is just a pretext to get Baker into slinky evening
gowns and showcase her in an extravagant Busby Berkeley-style musical number. The
big song-and-dance spectacular also features the Comedian Harmonists, the
German harmony singers, who were persecuted and eventually banned in their
native Germany because three members were Jewish—so it would be a real shame if
this film were canceled now.
There was a time when Broadway theaters supplied entertainment for the masses,
(rather than thousand-dollar premium Hamilton tickets). If you could successfully
compose for the former, odds are you could also pen tunes for the latter, as
indeed was the case for classic popular songwriters, like Cole Porter and the
Gershwins. Pianist Richard Glazier pays tribute to the Great American Songbook
through tunes written for the stage and screen in From Broadway to Hollywood,
which airs as part of this year’s TCM Classic Film Festival.
Fittingly,
Glazier performs each selection in Hollywood, at Warner Brothers’ “Clint Eastwood
Pre-Recording Stage.” He does not include any of Eastwood own compositions, but,
as a jazz lover, the actor-director should definitely approve of Glazier’s
focus on Lalo Schifrin. It is always good to hear from the iconic composer of Enter
the Dragon and Mission Impossible, but he somewhat dates himself by
choosing to play Schifrin’s “Theme from Mannix.”
One
might think the same regarding Bronislaw Kaper’s “Theme from The FBI,”
but that makes sense considering Glazier landed the final interview with its
star, Efren Zimbalist Jr. (who looks and sounds sharp and healthy), a friend of
the composer. Glazier also performs Kaper’s “Drifting” from Auntie Mame,
which plays to the pianist’s lyrical strength (but we still would have opted
for “On Green Dolphin Street” from the film of nearly the same name.
Of
course, Glazier gives Bernard Herrmann his due with “Scene D’Amour” from Vertigo
and performs a sensitive My Fair Lady Medley in tribute to Lerner &
Lowe. Perhaps the best fit for his style is Arlen & Harburg’s “Over the
Rainbow.” You really should know what film that one is from, if you have any
interest in the TCM Fest, but regardless, it is a lovely rendition. Cole Porter’s
“So in Love” from Kiss Me Kate is nice too (and it gives Glazier an
opportunity to interview Patricia Morrison). However, the inclusion of Khachaturian’s
“Sabre Dance” in tribute to Oscar Levant seems like an odd choice, especially
since legendary composers like Henry Mancini, John Williams, Nino Rota, and
Franz Waxman go undiscussed.
Still,
it rather makes sense the Gershwins get special emphasis, since they are the
Gershwins. Glazier also credits their music & lyrics for Girl Crazy as
the initial inspiration for his musical career. He performs Arlen & Ira
Gershwin’s “It’s a New World” from A Star is Born (one of the decent
versions, from 1954), but the special also shows clips of Judy Holiday singing “The
Man that Got Away.”
Submitted for your approval: more evidence the Library of Congress has been tardy
(perhaps even remiss) in adding Ed Wood’s Plan 9 from Outer Space to the
National Film Registry. Admittedly, the world hardly noticed when it released
in 1959, but since then, it has inspired Tim Burton’s Oscar-winning biopic,
stage musicals, an episode of Rifftrax, a much better-than-expected remake, scores
of midnight screenings, and this affectionate table read (it is really more of
a Zoom read, but whatever). Honestly, which was you rather re-watch, Plan 9 or
the 1959 Best Picture winner, Gigi, featuring fellow-traveling Maurice
Chevalier singing about how much he loves little girls? Clearly, Dana Gould
would opt for Ed Wood. Originally presented as part of SF Sketchfest, Gould’s table
read adaptation of Plan 9 from Outer Space airs tonight as part of the
2021 TCM Classic Film Festival.
Gould
plays The Amazing Criswell and he never stints on the sensationalistic bluster.
It might sound like he exaggerates the overblown intro, but if you compare it
to Wood’s film (which airs afterward), he sticks pretty close to the original
text. However, much of the narration duties will be handled by vintage SNL cast-member
Laraine Newman, who gets big laughs with her sardonic attempts to justify the
film’s massive logic and credibility gaps.
In
addition to Gould and Newman, Bobcat Goldthwait does some of his funniest work
in years as Kelton the cop (played in the movie by fan-favorite Paul Marco). In
fact, Kelton’s prominence shows how well Gould knows his Woodverse. Yet, the
biggest name participating might be Bob Odenkirk, who suitably hams it up as
the alien Ruler.
Thirty years before the first appearance of Professor X, there was Doctor X. The
“X” did indeed stand for Xavier, but Dr. Jerry Xavier was not a superhero—just super
smart. He also oversees his own school, in this case a leading medical school.
Unfortunately, one of his faculty members could very well be the notorious “Moon
Killer,” so he sets a trap for the psychotic—or vice versa—in the great Michael
Curtiz’s Doctor X, which screens in its restored 2-color Technicolor as
part of the 2021 TCM Classic Film Festival (to be broadcast over the network
this year, for pandemic reasons).
Every
full moon, the Moon Killer takes another victim. He doesn’t just strangle the bodies,
he also slices the base of their skull with a surgical scalpel and partially
cannibalizes the corpses (this is pre-Code, remember). Wise-cracking but
dumb-as-a-post reporter Lee Taylor has followed the story to Doctor X. The
gangster-like cops finally noticed all six of the murders took place within a
close radius of Xavier’s school (currently on a semester break), so naturally
they want to turn the place upside. Instead, Dr. X convinces them to let him
conduct his own investigation, using his mad scientist apparatus to measure his
still-present faculty’s responses to a re-enactment of the latest murder.
In
some ways, Doctor X feels dated, especially Lee Tracy’s yukkedy-yuk
humor as the gadfly reporter. However, Anton Grot’s sets are wonderfully
atmospheric. For some reason, Dr. Xavier decides to conduct his experimental
inquiry in a creepy old mansion overlooking a cliff. Maybe you have to be a genius
to understand that one, but it is a good setting for mayhem. Counter-intuitively,
the 2-color Technicolor might even make it eerier than the black-and-white
print (that was how fans knew the film for years), because it has a weird,
ethereal vibe, like a Guy Maddin film without Udo Kier.
Of
course, Lionel Atwill is a blast to watch bellowing scientistic mumbo-jumbo,
like an early forerunner to Peter Cushing’s Dr. Frankenstein. This time, Atwill
gets to play a good guy. It also represents the first of three collaborations
with Fay Wray (and also with Curtiz). Plus, this would be Wray’s first screen
scream as Dr. X’s daughter Joanne. It is not exactly a richly-written character,
but she plays it with saucy pre-Code energy. You can see why her performance was
a stepping stone to bigger and more iconic roles.
