I require the solace of the shadows and the dark of the night. Sunshine is my destroyer.

Legend (Director's Cut)

(1985)

The first time I've seen the longer cut, and unfortunately this isn't a case of revealing a classic mangled in the editing. In that sense, it's akin to Ridley Scott's longer version of Kingdom of Heaven; both films are crippled by clumsy scripts and bland lead performances. There's much to appreciate here; the cinematography is stunning, as are the sets. And Rob Bottin's creature designs are superb; it's the characters underneath that aren't up to much. In Alien, the skeletal plot allowed the director to infuse the film with atmosphere. Legend is also very slender in terms of (contrived) storyline, but there's nothing compelling at its core. All Scott's world building comes to naught because you don't feel he believes in any of it.

Scott is much too literal to make magic with the fantasy setting, and so humourless that he makes heavy weather of the comedy supporting characters (they utterly fail to be charming or appealingly silly - it actually makes you realise how smart George Lucas was with his comedic creations). The only bit player who lends a bit of verve to the proceedings is Robert Picardo's Meg Mucklebones. But he's only in the film for a couple of minutes. Mia Sara looks gorgeous, particularly when she's being tempted to darkness and dons black lippy, and her dance routine is one of the best scenes in the film. She also fares somewhat better than Cruise by ending up playing opposite the film's greatest asset; Tim Curry as the Lord of Darkness. He's aided by extraordinary prosthetics, but it's his performance that adds weight and drama to a film that was desperately lacking up to that point. Jerry Goldmsith's score, except in a few scenes, didn't do much for me; I think I prefer Tangerine Dream's work for the US version.

In general, the film picks up once we reach the lair of Darkness. Scott's more comfortable with the grime and grimness of the dungeons than the insipid extended Timotei advert of the early scenes, but for all its flaws there's still an admirable sense of a director stretching himself here. Following the failure of the film, Scott would retreat into the safety of contemporary thrillers for his next three features. His style would also become less about mood and atmosphere and more about high impact, cookie cutter editing such that you wonder if he didn't start paying too much attention to his younger brother.

***

Comments

I never strangled a chicken in my life!

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A herbal enema should fix you up.

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Miss Livingstone, I presume.

Stage Fright (1950) (SPOILERS) This one has traditionally taken a bit of a bruising, for committing a cardinal crime – lying to the audience. More specifically, lying via a flashback, through which it is implicitly assumed the truth is always relayed. As Richard Schickel commented, though, the egregiousness of the action depends largely on whether you see it as a flaw or a brilliant act of daring: an innovation. I don’t think it’s quite that – not in Stage Fright ’s case anyway; the plot is too ordinary – but I do think it’s a picture that rewards revisiting knowing the twist, since there’s much else to enjoy it for besides.

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Marriage Story (2019) (SPOILERS) I don’t tend to fall heavily for Noah Baumbach fare. He’s undoubtedly a distinctive voice – even if his collaborations with Wes Anderson are the least of that director’s efforts – but his devotion to an exclusive, rarefied New York bubble becomes ever more off-putting with each new project. And ever more identifiable as being a lesser chronicler of the city’s privileged quirks than his now disinherited forbear Woody Allen, who at his peak mastered a balancing act between the insightful, hilarious and self-effacing. Marriage Story finds Baumbach going yet again where Woody went before, this time brushing up against the director’s Ingmar Bergman fixation.

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Juno and the Paycock (1930) (SPOILERS) Hitchcock’s second sound feature. Such was the lustre of this technological advance that a wordy play was picked. By Sean O’Casey, upon whom Hitchcock based the prophet of doom at the end of The Birds . Juno and the Paycock , set in 1922 during the Irish Civil War, begins as a broad comedy of domestic manners, but by the end has descended into full-blown Greek (or Catholic) tragedy. As such, it’s an uneven but still watchable affair, even if Hitch does nothing to disguise its stage origins.

Do you know the world is a foul sty? Do you know, if you ripped the fronts off houses, you'd find swine? The world's a hell. What does it matter what happens in it?

Shadow of a Doubt (1943) (SPOILERS) I’m not sure you could really classify Shadow of a Doubt as underrated, as some have. Not when it’s widely reported as Hitchcock’s favourite of his films. Underseen might be a more apt sobriquet, since it rarely trips off the lips in the manner of his best-known pictures. Regardless of the best way to categorise it, it’s very easy to see why the director should have been so quick to recognise Shadow of a Doubt 's qualities, even if some of those qualities are somewhat atypical.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

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