Snapshot Reviews: “Untamed” & “You’re Never Too Young”

“Untamed” (1955)


Gone with the Wind meets wagon train Westerns…in South Africa in the mid-19th century.

The actual plot is slightly complicated, dramatic, and epic.  Katie O’Neill (Susan Hayward) meets Paul van Riebeck (Tyrone Power) in Ireland, where he’s buying horses for his Boer cavalry commandos back in South Africa.  They fall in love, but Paul decides it wouldn’t work out, and heads back home.  Not long afterwards, Katie’s father dies, Ireland is hit with the potato blight, and Katie decides to turn pioneer.  With a new husband (John Justin) and baby, she journeys to the colonial promised land of South Africa, a decision which has nothing at all to do with the fact that Paul is out there someplace…

From there, we move into a series of stunning landscapes as a Boer wagon train treks across South Africa.  Naturally, Katie and Paul will meet again.  Katie will also meet Kurt (Richard Egan), one of Paul’s commandos, who takes an instant shine to Katie and pursues her regardless of husband, baby, and his own girlfriend/mistress.

This is one of those melodramatic soap opera sagas that covers multiple years, long-running love quadrangles, and tempestuous weather events.  It brings in a smattering of South African history and politics (the accuracy of which I can’t vouch for).  It’s also one of those movies where you want to shake the main characters into their senses.

Why bother watching, if the plot is so hokey?  Because it’s filmed well.  Despite frustrating lulls in spots, there’s a sense of slow tension running throughout, and nothing is resolved until it really is resolved, at the very end – unlike lengthy plots which seem to resolve, and then continue on for reasons unknown to the viewer.  Both Hayward and Power are strong, scene-commanding leads, with visible chemistry, and Richard Egan convincingly delivers a villain who oozes slime, yet isn’t without a few good points.


But the No. 1 reason to watch: Seriously gorgeous cinematography.  The lush African landscapes are stunning (“African sequences photographed at Zululand by courtesy of the Natal Parks Board”), and were probably even more breathtaking in their original CinemaScope.

Other entries on the credit side of the ledger:

  • Director Henry King films a Zulu attack on the wagon train that must rank among the Top 10 Western “attack on the settlers” scenes, if you stretch the definition of Westerns to include other countries.  There are Westerns in which the settlers are supposedly outnumbered 10:1, but the viewer remains unruffled.  This isn’t one of them.  The Zulu attackers look like they actually know what they’re doing, and the settlers are both seriously outarmed and outnumbered, and faced with unfamiliar enemy tactics.
  • Susan Hayward’s character might be selfish and scheming at times, but she’s got the guts that Scarlett O’Hara lacked.  At any rate, she doesn’t whine.
  • Solid performances from Rita Moreno as Egan’s longsuffering love interest, and Agnes Moorehead as Aggie O’Toole, Hayward’s maid/housekeeper/fellow pioneer (a sort of Irish variant on the Hattie McDaniel role in Gone with the Wind).

On the debit side:

  • As mentioned, the soap opera plot, combined with some of the negative stereotypes of a typical Western transplanted to South Africa. (You will shake your head at some point, guaranteed.)
  • Significant lack of screen time for Tyrone Power, combined with too much for Richard Egan.  Not that Egan is bad; he’s very, very good at being a louse.  But Power flat-out disappears for a stretch that’s just a little too long for a movie like this.

Random commentary that didn’t fit anywhere else: A moment of silence is in order for John Justin’s character.  Justin plays the man Hayward marries after Power leaves Ireland, who goes with her and their child to South Africa.  I felt sorry for him.  He seems like a decent guy, but he marries Hayward in the first fifteen minutes, and Tyrone Power is still out there.  You’re left making bets with yourself as to whether he’ll die right off the bat, or stick around to provide drama for a tragic love triangle.  Poor guy didn’t deserve his fate.

At 111 minutes, Untamed is half the running time of Gone with the Wind, just long enough to wrap things up before they threaten to overwhelm the viewer.

“You’re Never Too Young” (1955)

This movie had me fooled.  Up to a certain point, it looked like a comedy starring Dean Martin and Diana Lynn, and Raymond Burr and Veda Ann Borg as jewel thieves.  And then it devolved into a showpiece for Jerry Lewis acting like an overgrown 12-year-old on helium with a sugar rush, shoehorned between musical numbers and nearly word-for-word scene repeats from The Major and the Minor.  Jerry Lewis, it must be said, is no Ginger Rogers.

The genders are swapped: Diana Lynn, who played the precocious teenager in The Major and the Minor, plays half of the Milland role, and the love interest, in this allegedly comedic revamp.  Dean Martin also has part of the Milland role, and as a bonus, Martin has a fiancée (Nina Foch), aka the Rita Johnson role in TMATM, who shows up for a few scenes because the plot demands it.  The school is a girls’ school, Jerry Lewis is an incompetent barber turned fake teenager because he’s escaping a jewel thief (Burr), who he (Lewis) thinks is a jealous husband (don’t even ask).  (Short version: Burr drops a stolen diamond into Lewis’ pocket, and has to get it back, involving a series of misadventures as he follows him via plane, train, and around the school.)  The jewelry thief subplot is a welcome distraction, and it’s probably the only reason anyone who watched The Major and the Minor kept watching ’til the bitter end.

A few genuinely funny scenes, and the presence of a skilled cast, can’t make up for the lack of plot focus and comedic spark.  On the plus side: less creep factor.  The age difference is played purely for laughs, not real drama, and the ending is different, as Lewis’ character doesn’t really fall for Lynn.  (He does, however, fall, jump, speed, and skim over and into multiple objects on a pair of waterskis during the final chase scene.)

Watch if you’re a fan of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, or stick to the musical numbers, or utilize the fast-forward button.  Or watch UntamedYou’re Never Too Young clocks in at 102 minutes, and Untamed has better scenery.


1967 in Film: “Fitzwilly”

Fitzwilly (1967) is a delightful comedy, slightly old-school for 1967.  It’s a heartwarming tale of loyalty, friendship, love, laughs…and a touch of grand larceny.


Fitzwilliam (Dick Van Dyke) is a butler – one of a long line of butlers.  His father was butler to the Woodworth family, and his father before him.  Fitzwilliam serves the now-elderly Miss Vicki Woodworth.  It’s a noble calling, if a little old-fashioned in this modern age.  “And,” as Fitzwilliam points out, “terribly, terribly expensive.”

Miss Vicki maintains the enormous family home and creme-de-la-creme lifestyle to which she was born, and writes $20,000 checks to charities on the regular.  Her mansion includes an impressive retinue of servants, who spend less time polishing the furniture than polishing a few skills that are, shall we say, less than 100% legal.

Fitzwilliam & Co. are hiding the awful truth: when her father died, she was left without a cent.  Everything since has been provided by low cunning.  Household expenses are funded by a shocking variety of illegal schemes.  Servants pluck Miss Vicki’s charitable checks from visitors’ pockets while helping with their coats, or poach them from the outgoing mail.  Fitzwilliam is the brainpower behind this high-class hub of crime, and he’s refined the discreet procural of cash to an art and a science.


The grand dame in question, Miss Vicki, is a strong-minded, strong-willed little old lady, wonderfully portrayed by Edith Evans.  She has the total disregard for propriety that exists only in the best and wealthiest old families.  She calls Fitzwilliam “Fitzwilly,” scolds policemen who pull her over, says “Poppycock!” to anything she deems silly, and has a warm heart beneath a crackling aristocratic exterior.  She’s the leader of the Platypi (“as in ‘many platypuses’?”) – a sort of not-a-Cub Scouts group with principles based on Miss Vicki’s unique life philosophies.  (Among other things, she believes it’s “the height of impertinence” to help little old ladies across the street.)  Miss Vicki’s other pet project is a dictionary for people who can’t spell, which actually sounds brilliant in a pre-Google era.

It’s the dictionary project that knocks down the first domino in Fitzwilly’s perfectly run household.  Miss Vicki, forgetting to inform Fitzwilly, engages the services of a secretary to assist with the dictionary.


Juliet Nowell (Barbara Feldon, AKA “Agent 99” of Get Smart) shows up.  A surprised Fitzwilly makes a major error in judgment, tries to brush her off, and fires up every suspicious neuron in Juliet’s brain…for all the wrong reasons.  Assuming she won’t get the job, she blasts the butler with a scathing rebuke: “Whatever you’re up to with that wonderful old lady, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

Fitzwilly makes his second error; in a fit of pique, he offers her the job at double the salary, because “she was so sure I wouldn’t.”

With an outsider in the house and a complicated plan worth $75,000 in progress, the gang frets over the potential for disaster.  Piece of cake, Fitzwilly says.  She’ll see that there’s nothing going on, they’ll make up an excuse for Miss Vicki to take a vacation, and she’ll be out within the week.

Fitzwilly is mistaken.

After Juliet unwittingly thwarts one too many schemes by her intrusions (including a disastrous incident involving one of Miss Vicki’s checks), Fitzwilly resolves to date her and make a pass, figuring that she’ll be so insulted she’ll quit.

This does not go as planned.  Romance blossoms!  And Fitzwilly is now juggling so many different schemes that he’s bound to drop one sometime.

One by one, the dominoes keep falling, until they decide it’s time to call it quits.  There’s just one big Last Heist to be finished before going straight…

All I will say about that is: If you’ve never seen a boldfaced robbery of Gimbel’s Department Store on Christmas Eve involving upturned umbrellas, Christmas carols, free TVs with any purchase (“no matter how small!”), and judicious use of the United States Postal Service, you haven’t lived.

There’s plenty to enjoy here for the crime comedy (and romantic comedy) fan.

Fitzwilly & Co.’s schemes are laid out in deliciously precise detail, from the Samson-and-Delilah bar trick (always good for quick cash in a pinch) to Serenity Through the Word’s Bibles for the bereaved (a long-term investment, but equally rewarding).  Should you be interested in funding your own cash-poor, prestige-rich household, I’m sure there’s an idea you can adapt.

A very 1960s highlight of the film is TV actor spotting: “Hey! Isn’t he the guy who…”  Starting with Dick Van Dyke and Barbara Feldon (of The Dick Van Dyke Show and Get Smart, respectively), the faces that pop up are a who’s who of characters on TV.  You could watch the same actors at the theater on the weekend, and watch them at home on weekdays.

Demonstrating the Samson and Delilah bar trick.

Demonstrating the Samson and Delilah bar trick.

The strong cast of memorable character actors carries the film: John McGiver, Noam Pitlik, Harry Townes, Sam Waterston, and Cecil Kellaway – among many others.  Maybe you don’t remember their names.  But I bet you remember their faces!  And voices – John Fiedler (AKA the voice of Piglet in Winnie-the-Pooh) makes an appearance as a naive piano store manager.  Byron Casey (Stephen Strimpell) is hilarious as an interior decorator (in well over his head) who’s an integral part of that $75,000 scheme, and Noam Pitlik is memorable as a footman-turned-henchman.

Dick Van Dyke as Fitzwilly, of course, is the highlight.  He pulls out his best fake English accent (and a fake French accent).  He looks like he’s having a blast as this modern Moriarty for a good cause.  It’s living on the edge, without a shred of guilt.  So much so, in fact, that Miss Vicki’s assistant Grimsby (Anne Seymour) gets concerned, telling him that he keeps aiming higher, and he’s only doing it now because he enjoys it.  Fitzwilly’s response: “But it’s just that I’m so good at it!”

John McGiver as Albert deserves special mention.  He’s the wildcard in the gang: he has a guilty conscience.  The retired priest turned servant lies and steals for Miss Vicki’s sake, but his scruples prevent him from participating wholeheartedly.  Fitzwilly keeps him in hand, but he’s the weak point; with the right lever, the whole shebang could crack wide open.  His solemn, deadpan line delivery is classic.  Watch for him “explaining” to Juliet why he was picking someone’s pocket.

Fitzwilly was one of 1967’s family-friendly outings; it pushed no envelopes, though certain aspects would have been nixed under the Production Code.  Luckily, it’s not dated: the combination of a Wodehousian setting, juxtaposed with the lively modernity of Dick Van Dyke and Barbara Feldon, plus a generous helping of the very 1960s crime/heist comedy genre, keeps it fresh and entertaining for the modern viewer.  It also features a score by an up-and-coming composer credited here as “Johnny Williams.”

And just because you rarely, if ever, get to say this when reviewing a classic movie: if you like Dick Van Dyke as a thief in Fitzwilly, you can watch him play one again in Night at the Museum 3 this December.  Yes, this December.  89 years old and still scheming!

This post is part of the 1967 in Film Blogathon, hosted by Silver Screenings and The Rosebud CinemaClick here for all the entries on this fascinating year in the movies.

A Movie and a Book: “Gambit” (1966)

A Movie and a Book: “Gambit” (1966)
gambit (gám-bit) : a series of opening moves (esp. in chess); a strategy, planned before the actual game.

Gambit (1966) : crime caper starring Michael Caine, Shirley MacLaine, Herbert Lom, and John Abbott.

Gambit (1966) : book by Kendall Lane; literary form of the story above.

Tonight’s movie was discovered, of all places, via a stack of vintage paperbacks in a used bookstore.  One of my hobbies is book collecting – second only to book reading, but mostly because of space and monetary limitations.  (Luckily for those of us who read far more than we could ever buy or keep, there are libraries.)  For the most part, I prefer to buy only books from tried-and-true authors, but I’ll bend this rule for gorgeous covers, intriguing blurbs, or anything old that looks like it might be hard to find elsewhere.  Or, as in this case, movie tie-in covers.gambit-pbcoverThis was supposed to be the first in what may be a recurring series, in which I read a book, watch the movie it was based on (or the other way ’round), and review both.  As it turns out, Gambit the movie is practically identical to Gambit the book.  There are a few very minor changes, and they really are minor.  Luckily, this totally works for this book/movie combination, so I’ll be reviewing the movie and adding a new notes on the book at the end.  They’re both solidly entertaining, and you needn’t worry about loving one and hating the other.

Gambit shares the 1960s romantic comedy-slash-heist movie genre with How to Steal a Million, released the same year (1966).  Frankly, How to Steal a Million is the superior film.  With Audrey Hepburn and Peter O’Toole, how could it not be?  Still, Gambit shouldn’t be dinged simply for not being Million: it was nominated for three Academy Awards, and it’s got a premise and twist all its own.  It’s also a little heavier on the suspense than the romance.

Bottom line:  If watching How to Steal a Million left you yearning for more romantic comedy heist movies, Gambit should be on your must-watch list.

This may be a fun movie to go into without spoilers, so if you’d like to do so, skip this review and head straight for your preferred rental service or DVD seller.  (It’s nearly impossible to talk about this movie without revealing a few twists.)  Still, I was spoiled on a major plot point from the beginning, read the book, then watched the movie, and enjoyed both just the same – if not more.  Proceed at your own risk. :)

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Man of the Moment (1935)

Man of the Moment (1935)


1935’s Man of the Moment is a surprisingly funny, if slightly dark, little gem of a romantic comedy made in Britain, but starring two American actors: Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. and Laura La Plante.

Snapshot Summary: Laura La Plante plays Mary Briany, a London secretary in love with her boss (Wyndham Goldie), who barely realizes she exists. After said boss arrives late to work with the other secretary in tow, both still in evening clothes, and Mary’s demoted doing the other secretary’s grunt work…well, she’s had it. She quits on the spot. Inspired by a sensationalist account of a recent suicide whose unrequited love wept bitter tears after her death, Mary tries unsuccessfully to drown herself in the river. (“I intend to die with an expression of peace on my face that surpasses understanding!”) Under protest, she’s fished out by a passing gentleman named Tony Randall (Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.), who takes her home to keep her from being arrested (suicide is a crime, you know!), dry off, and straighten up. Trouble is, Mary wants no part of this rescuing business, and Tony, who is flat broke and engaged to be married in the morning to his wealthy fiancée, finds himself stuck between keeping Mary from escaping back to the river, and his fiancée from discovering that there’s a woman hiding in his spare room.

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