Piqued by a reference on Bones, featuring an actual mummy and “Bones” Brennan naming the film as a childhood favorite that sparked her interest in forensic anthropology, we followed our Halloween viewing of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! with the original The Mummy with Boris Karloff through Netflix, in glorious black and white. What a great movie, and what a fascinating fellow Karloff was! Despite some hilarious archaeological gaffs in the beginning (people handling fragments of stone and ancient scrolls of papyrus with their bare hands), the film has lots of creep factor, lots of tension, and some fairly authentic-looking reproductions of ancient Egyptian artifacts, plus a nifty Egyptian laborers’ work song that had John and me rocking out. *g* Karloff, who was tall and slim but not freakishly tall or massive, has one of those long, angular faces that lends itself to makeup and prosthesis, rather like Ron Perlman these days. Despite his many gruesome roles, in private life he was a gentle man and a gentleman, too, a hard-working actor who was forty-four when he found his breakout role as James Whale’s monster in Frankenstein, fifty-one before he became a father. I’d like to see Frankenstein now; it’s one of many films I caught bits of on broadcast tv as a child but have probably never watched all the way through.
Watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! is a yearly ritual for me, and I never get tired of those alto flute solos, or of the World War I Flying Ace’s battle with the Red Baron and his trek through the French countryside. In my memory that sequence goes on for hours, moody landscapes and the haunting flute part. I said to John that that was probably the first glimpse I had of what the shakuhachi tradition tries to do, the flute as an instrument of spirit, an embodiment of Spirit through the breath.
Our public television station favored us over the past two weekends with the Jeremy Brett version of “The Sign of Four”. I have never been a Holmes fan before, but now I’m completely enthralled with the Brett series, and also with David Suchet’s Poirot. “The Sign of Four” is a more complex story than the usual 45-minute episode, with lots of exterior shots and lots of obvious if beautiful matte paintings for backgrounds, rather like Original Trek. The final exchange of dialogue is just a killer: “What an attractive woman,” says Watson, rather wistfully. (Yes, and young enough to be your daughter, John!) Holmes, collapsed on a narrow bed with limbs sprawled out, replies, “Was she? I hadn’t noticed.” Oh, Sherlock.
Meanwhile, we have finished season four of Deep Space Nine, with Odo’s shocking punishment by his people and Salome Jens’ amazing authority and confidence as the female Founder, and have season five on tap and the first season of the animated series Batman Beyond. We also viewed Mask of the Phantasm again, and yes, I still think it’s an enormously better movie than either of those with Christian Bale, and it’s also the only movie to give Bruce Wayne a compelling love interest–a smart, sexy redhead with some martial arts training. Bruce likes a woman who can trip him over her hip. *g*
I don’t recall if the Granada version made it clear, but Watson married Mary Morstan. Watson and the double-barreled tiger cub…
I love Suchet’s Poirot so very much! And Brett’s Holmes was practically my first boyfriend – I had a raging crush on the character from late childhood, and the Granada series came out when I was in my teens, so you can just imagine. I think “Four” was one of the best of that series – they got sadly awful towards the end as Brett was getting sicker, but for a while there they were glorious.
James Whale’s Frankenstein is worth Netflixing. We did a whole Frankenstein film festival last year around this time, and that one stood up really well against any of the other versions.
Amen and amen on the Frankenstein… for my money it’s still the best film version. (Actually, I find that overall older horror films are frequently superior to more recent ones, with the occasional exception such as American Werewolf in London or Sean of the Dead, that manage to find a new perspective.) And while we’re on the subject of moody and atmospheric, I also highly recommend Lon Chaney’s The Wolf Man if you haven’t seen it.
I haven’t watched Great Pumpkin in a few years, but we certainly make a point of watching the Grinch every year (speaking of Karloff!).
Nettle, having been a raving Spockophile all my life, I’m not sure how I missed out on Brett’s Holmes. He is clearly Spock’s spiritual grandfather, and Watson is his McCoy. *g* Maybe I should just blame my mother, who never watched anything on PBS that I can recall.
Erik, I am rather fond of the Branagh Frankenstein, in which he runs around half-naked with streaming golden hair while lots of machinery goes clank and whoosh in the background… excuse me, where was I? *g* But I’ve seen a number of older horror films this year, and I agree they can still bring the thrills and chills without making one’s gorge or one’s blood pressure rise (unlike, say, Quarantine, which nearly gave me a stroke).
Nettle, the Granada version doesn’t mention the marriage! but it doesn’t surprise me. Watson is obviously quite taken with Morstan, and Jenny Seagrove is very sympathetic, very attractive in the role–she has warmth and strength.