Rage in Heaven

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Rage in Heaven (1941)

Rage in Heaven (1941)

Rage in Heaven has the distinction of a stellar cast and a clever and enticing plot, but it stops short of being a terrific movie merely by virtue of the time it puts into telling its story. It is not that the film feels rushed by any means, but it could have packed a bigger punch for audience members if it had drawn out the action and put more time into letting the narrative sink in. At around 85 minutes in run time, the picture definitely could have elongated its duration.

The story opens at a French mental asylum where a patient named Ward Andrews –whom we do not see– escapes. He suffers from a personality disorder that makes him emotionally detached and potentially capable of murder. In the next scene, we see one Ward Andrews, played by George Sanders, encounter his childhood and longtime best friend Philip Monrell, played by Robert Montgomery. The two reignite a friendship and Monrell invites his pal to his mother’s English estate where he is returning after some time in Paris, from where Andrews is also returning.

Upon arrival at Mrs. Monrell’s (Lucile Watson) home, Philip first encounters is mother’s new companion/secretary Stella Bergen, played by Ingrid Bergman. He is immediately captivated by her. The scene also alludes that Mrs. Monrell is anything but well. She convinces her son that he must finally take a role in the family-owned steel mill.

During the brief time Ward spends at the Monrell home, Stella becomes quite enthralled by him but declines to indicate any willingness to enter a relationship. When Ward leaves, followed by Mrs. Monrell’s retreat to a better climate, Philip works to convince Stella to marry him.

The couple are quite happy at first, but Philip becomes apparently upset by any creature that siphons away any affection Stella could instead shower upon him. He kills a kitten given to her by Ward, making it look like an accident but flying into a rage at the slightest suggestion by household staff that the circumstances seem odd.

At some point during the story it becomes plain that Philip was in fact the man in the French asylum, who assumed his friend’s name while there. His dispassionate personality and growing jealousy about his wife’s relationships –particularly her fondness for Ward– play out to an increasingly frightening degree. Philip invites Ward to visit and offers him a job as his chief engineer at the steel mill, only to attempt to kill him. The danger escalates for Ward and Stella and the plot takes an unexpected turn that puts Ward on death row.

Rage in Heaven does a great job of gradually revealing Philip’s insanity. What it does not do is draw out the suspense and drama associated with the twist in plot, which I am loathe to discuss here and spoil for those unfamiliar with the story. Suffice it to say, the movie would have been an excellent one if the last quarter of the film had been elongated.

Montgomery does a fantastic job; however, for those unfamiliar with his work, he might come off as a boring actor. Montgomery –who made a plethora of movies in the roll of wealthy playboy– is certainly cast against type here and pulls off his role by playing with a completely flat personality. The upbeat and sometimes zany performances we usually get out of the man are absent here as he works to play the emotionally bereft psychopath. So to the unknowing viewer, Montgomery’s performance might seem lackluster next to the typically stellar Bergman and Sanders.

At the close of Rage in Heaven, I could not help but think it would make an excellent remake. The story could be translated into modern times; however, there is a certain haste about the end of the story and the attempts to save Ward from his death that would be lost given modern technology. Still, a new version set in the 1940s would make for a delightful rendition, given certain changes to heighten the drama.

Murder on the Orient Express

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Murder on the Orient Express (1974)

I love Agatha Christie mysteries. They are so convoluted and complex and rely on that oft-used plot ending during which the detective explains to us what happened –because there was no way we pieced it together ourselves. Murder on the Orient Express was finally made into a movie in 1974 with Christie being unwilling to allow a film version while the Production Code threatened to wipe out many essential plot elements.

Murder on the Orient Express enthralls us with a large, all-star cast, which is an approach repeated with Christie’s Death on the Nile that starred Bette Davis and Mia Farrow, to name a few. An almost unrecognizable Albert Finney plays our Belgian sleuth Hercule Poirot who happens to board a train, the Orient Express, where a murder will take place with far too many suspects to deduce a simple solution.

Our victim is one Mr. Ratchett (Richard Widmark) who approaches Detective Poirot seeking protection hours before his death. The man, who is mysterious about his line of work, has been receiving threatening notes. He is killed in his bed in the cabin beside Poirot’s; although, no struggle is heard.

What Poirot soon deduces is that Ratchett was the man behind the kidnapping and killing of the daughter of a famous aviatrix. The abduction did not just result in one fatality, however. A maid was falsely accused of involvement in the crime and commited suicide. The distressed mother died in childbirth, during which the infant also passed. The father killed himself from grief.

On board the train car where the murder occurred are many seemingly unconnected passengers including: a meek missionary Greta (Ingrid Bergman); the obnoxiously talkative Mrs. Hubbard (Lauren Bacall); an elderly Russian Princess Draganoff (Wendy Hiller) and her companion Hildegarde (Rachel Roberts); Ratchett’s secretary McQueen (Anthony Perkins); Countess Andrenyi (Jaqueline Bisset) and her husband (Michael York); Colonel Arbuthnott (Sean Connery); the mysteriously sad Mary Debenham (Vanessa Redgrave); a Chicago car salesman Fiscarelli (Denis Quilley); conductor Pierre Michel (Jean-Pierre Cassel); Ratchett’s bodyguard Hardman (Colin Blakely); and Ratchett’s valet Beddoes (John Gielgud).

All passengers are ultimately discovered to have motive for the crime as their individual identities are revealed. In the end, however, Poirot will tell authorities that the mafia was involved in killing Ratchett and that the culprit departed the train during its lengthy stop awaiting the clearance of a snow drift, but that’s no spoiler.

The story of Murder on the Orient Express does a great job of supplying us with tidbits of information and a variety of clues, but not all of the evidence is actually related to the crime, making it impossible for us to form our own conclusion. The advantage movies have over books –and one not always employed in these types of mysteries– is that the flick can show us via flashback what actually happened rather than relying on us to make sense of a rambling written or spoken explanation. Murder on the Orient Express takes advantage of this to great dramatic end.

The flick is not without its laughs as Finney brings a good deal of humor to the silly detective who sleeps with hair nets on his oily black locks and stylized mustache. Bacall also stands out as the loud and flamboyant actress, and Bergman is surprising in such a plain, timid part. Hiller as the Russian Princess is frankly quite terrifying with her powdery white skin and her rolling, biting accent. Her manly maid played by Roberts is also intimidating.

Feature: Hitchcock Movie Posters from Italy

I put up a post a while ago comparing U.S. movie posters for American movies to the versions that were released for the same pictures in Italy. As I continue to roam the web, and particularly the newly discovered MoviePostersDB.com, I continue to find that foreign, particularly Italian, posters are far more artistic/intriguing/seductive than the American ones. This time I have focused specifically on Hitchcock movies, films that in and of themselves embody artistry, intrigue and seduction. These movies, because they were so well publicized, have multiple posters per country to their name, but here I have grabbed what appear to be the most common versions.

ITALY VS. AMERICA

I think there is no arguing that the American version of what would advertise Hitchcock’s first American film looks pretty bland compared the foreign one. I also concede, however, that the former looks a bit like a romance novel cover. And who is the gorgeous woman in the backdrop? Certainly not Judith Anderson’s Mrs. Danvers. It could be the artist’s manifestation of the deceased Rebecca, but she is never shown in the picture, which is sort of the point. Nevertheless, I would rather see the Rebecca advertised by the image on the left than the one on the right.

 Notorious is possibly my favorite Hitchcock movie and one that is certainly darker than the American poster would suggest. Although the key depicted is of significance, the romance between Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman is not as light-hearted as the advertisement would suggest. The Italian poster is a bit vague in its meaning and with the title perhaps suggests merely a story of an illicit affair, but it is by far the edgier version and one that better suits the tone of the actual movie.

Although I have always enjoyed the Dial M for Murder American poster, the Italian version is a bit more striking, and bloody. Because the Italian title translates as “Perfect Crime”, choosing to focus on the weapon rather than the phone that justifies the American title makes sense. It also notes other intricacies of the film, such as the scissors and the time. I can see the favorite of these two being a toss up for some people. Your thoughts?

I am not in love with either of these posters, but the foreign version is much more eye-catching. It highlights the one setting in which the entire film takes place while highlighting its star, who is perhaps not as mean as the poster suggests. The U.S. ad is just bland. We get it: it’s called Rope and there’s a rope.

In this instance, the Italian poster borrows from the American one but manages to give us a much different feel for the movie. The use of unnatural color and the red tone suggestive of blood makes The Birds a more frightening looking picture. The birds themselves also look more threatening in the overseas ad, which allows it to trump the domestic version.

I’m not sure I can entirely pass judgement and declare the Italian Vertigo poster better than the U.S. version. Although the foreign advertisement has many seductive and creepy elements, the simplicity of the American poster and its emphasis on the vertigo effect invented by Hitchcock in making that movie is difficult to rival. Again, the Italian movie title is not the same as the American, so “The Woman Who Lived Twice” likely inspired a different poster.

What do you think?

Indiscreet

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Indiscreet (1958)

     I recently commented to a friend after seeing This Means War in the theater that it is interesting/good to see movies that portray single men and women who are beyond their 20s finding love and marriage, in some cases for the first time. In fact, with stars like Reece Witherspoon (36) and Jennifer Aniston (43) who perhaps have gotten better looking with age, many romantic movies today appeal to a demographic beyond its college years. But watching one of my favorite movies this week, Indiscreet, I realized that motion pictures have never shied away from mature romance.

      As in contemporary conveyances of adult romance, the lead characters have typically eschewed love and marriage in favor of a career or have “been there, done that” and are now divorced. Thus is the case with Ingrid Bergman (43) and Cary Grant (54) in Indiscreet, sort of. Berman is famous British stage actress Anna while Grant is a financial expert Philip whom NATO seeks for employment.

     The two meet through mutual friends –Alfred (Cecil Parker) and Margaret Munson (Phyllis Calvert), the latter being Anna’s sister– and Anna is struck with love at first sight and reacts as a grown-up school girl. Philip is interested as well, but when Anna later asks him to the ballet, he reveals he is married and separated “and cannot possibly get a divorce”. The two nevertheless maintain an affair aided by the man’s acceptance of the NATO job in France. He commutes every week to London and has taken a flat below Anna’s so he may sneak up to her place without alerting the building staff and damaging the actress’ reputation.

     When Philip is assigned to work in New York for five months, Anna impulsively asks the man to marry her, but immediately rescinds the plea. She soon finds out that Philip’s marital status is not as she expected and plans a ruse to teach him a lesson.

     Extramarital affairs were not terribly kosher in 1950s cinema and the Hayes Office never cared for any display of premarital relations, but Director Stanley Donen is, well, discreet in how he conveys the relationship. The couple are never depicted doing anything more than kissing, made more suggestive with the camera tracking backward from Anna’s front door. The characters, however, always seem to wake up in their own beds. Although, in another subliminal move, Donen split-screens the protagonists speaking on the phone to one another while laying in bed. The shot is done in such a way as to make it look like they are laying side by side.

     The story was adapted from the play “Kind Sir” that had proven a Broadway flop. The central premise was one that had potential, however, and so the rights were acquired cheaply and delivered to Donen. The director had been working with Grant on Kiss Them For Me, and was looking for another film on which to collaborate. Grant was amenable to the adaptation but insisted Bergman be his leading lady. She did not need much convincing. Donen had some concerns because this comedy was not something Bergman had engaged in much during her career, yet she pulls it off swimmingly. Grant has remarked it is one of his favorite pictures he made.

     Indiscreet is a fun and touching movie. Although we have fun watching the romance blossom between the two characters, we also feel for Anna as she becomes frustrated with her other-woman status. Both Grant and Bergman bring something special to the roles and the seasoned actors are so comfortable together. The two had also played romantic parts in Notorious 12 years earlier, but their maturity was evident in the later flick.

Source: Cary Grant: A Celebration by Richard Schickel

Cinematic Shorts: Gaslight

Wowza!

Gaslight (1944)

     Gaslight is one of my favorite movies of all time. I discovered it early in my classic movie foray because I was really into Joseph Cotton. The story is a wonderful mystery full of suspense and intrigue and really has all the markings of a Hitchcock film without actually being one. The director is instead George Cukor, who has more than enough experience to make such a masterpiece.

     The story is about Ingrid Berman‘s Paula and her husband Gregory, played by Charles Boyer, and the woman slow decent into madness. Paula’s aunt/guardian was a famous opera singer who was murdered by a thief hoping to seize some valuable jewels. Ten years later Paula returns to her aunt’s house with a new husband but starts having flashbacks to the terrifying past.

     Gregory presents himself as a creepy character from the start, always patronizing his wife into a submissive role. He pats her and tells her she confused when her items start disappearing. Paula has also been noticing a strange change in the gaslights in their London flat. The flames seem to go down as though someone has turned up the gas in another part of the home, except no one has. This does not help the woman’s mental state any, but she has one ally on her side: Joseph Cotton as a fan of Paula’s aunt who mistakes the young woman for her relative. He starts to gather that something sinister is afoot in Paula’s home and pokes his nose in enough to save the woman.

     The story for Gaslight is really fascinating and creative and the actual gaslights in the home make for such a cool device alluding to the answer to all of our questions. Bergman gave an Academy Award-winning performance as Paula as no one can deny how deftly she conveys a weakening of the mind. Besides Bergman, also nominated for Oscars were  Boyer and Angela Lansbury, who makes her screen debut as the cockney, sassy maid. The picture was also nominated for cinematography, writing, art direction and Best Picture.

     I think I could watch Gaslight every day and never be tired of it. Ryan and I love to imitate Boyer’s chiding utterance of “Paauullaa” in that French accent of his as it is both absurd and creepy. This movie sort of ruined Boyer for me as anything but a sinister actor, however. Watching him in Love Affair was a challenge.

"I told you, there's nothing wrong with the lighting, Paula!"

Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid

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Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid (1982)

     Although made in 1982, Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid could be claimed as 50% classic film. The Steve Martin spoof on old detective dramas uses footage from about a dozen black-and-white movies spliced in with new footage. I first saw this movie in an Intro to Film course and fell in love. It’s full of Martin’s early stupid humor while also showing a real appreciation for old Hollywood.

     Martin is Detective Rigby Reardon, who is approached by Rachel Ward‘s Juliet Forrest to investigate the murder of her father, a scientist and cheese enthusiast. The plot that follows is inconsequential as it is as complex as The Big Sleep –clips of which are used throughout– and is neatly summed up by both the villain and Reardon at the end of the picture, ala The Thin Man and other mysteries.

     Rigby’s mentor is Marlowe, with whom the protagonist consults primarily via telephone, and who is played by Humphrey Bogart in segments from three of his films. The detective also pays visits to several familiar faces, such as Ray Milland in a snippet from The Lost Weekend, Bette Davis in Deception, Cary Grant in Suspicion, Ingrid Bergman in Notorious and Joan Crawford in Humoresque, among others. Martin also dresses in drag to attract the attention of Fred MacMurray in Double Indemnity. The unsettling part is, from behind, there is little difference between Martin and Barbara Stanwyck from the original clips. Martin again dons a dress to masquerade as James Cagney’s mother from White Heat.

     Writers on the movie George Gipe, Director Carl Reiner and Martin developed the story based on the classic clips. The idea came from one designed by Martin that proposed the use of a classic movie clip. That concept transformed into doing an entire movie using such pieces. After watching old films and pulling particular over-the-shoulder shots and appealing dialogue, the writers then merely juxtaposed the dialogue until they came up with a suitable story. Some clips were clearly used just as an excuse to insert them and do not actually further the plot, but are funny nonetheless.

     Although the cinematographer consulted the filming styles from the old flicks, Martin avoided them altogether. He said he did not want to give a performance reflective of Bogart but something of his own. The result was great as I do not think Martin would have been as funny if he had taken himself more seriously.

     As someone who enjoys both Steve Martin humor and classic films, Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid is just the epitome of fun for me. I was not familiar with all of the movies featured therein, but I certainly enjoyed figuring out the ones I did know. Thankfully the end credits spell it out for the viewer.

Source: Universal Studios

Hitchcock Blogathon #12: Notorious

Wowza!

Notorious (1946)

      Notorious was my favorite Hitchcock film for a long time (before I saw Rebecca). I was grabbed by the actors and the terrific story, so well executed. It offers spies, foreign locales, romance, sexual implications, and a woman whose life is endangered, all common Hitchcock elements.

     Ingrid Bergman plays Alicia Huberman, daughter of a Nazi traitor recently convicted. Cary Grant as a U.S. agent of some sort, T.R. Devlin, recruits the woman to infiltrate a Nazi operation in South America, to allow the gal to serve her country and make up for her father’s sins. Devlin uses Alicia’s connections through her father to reunite her with Claude Rains’ Alexander Sebastian, the head of the Nazi operation. Alicia begins dating the criminal while simultaneously falling in love with Devlin. Alicia gets stuck marrying Sebastian, causing tension in her relationship with Devlin, but she discovers that the villain is protective of a key to the wine cellar and that something peculiar persists with certain wine bottles. A large party at Sebastian’s home allows Devlin and Alicia to orchestrate the invading of that cellar where they discover bottles containing uranium ore. Discovering his wife is a spy, Sebastian and his wicked mother devise a plot to kill Alicia.

     The story and the actors do a great job of setting the viewer on edge as we panic that Sebastian will discover Devlin is a spy/the two were lovers. At the same time, the chemistry is so great between Grant and Bergman that we want nothing but for them to be together. A great scene between the too caught the negative attention of censors. When first arriving in Rio de Janiero, Alicia and Devlin have dinner in a hotel room. They spend a good deal of time kissing and talking, moving from the balcony inside. At the time, the Production Code allowed a kiss to persist only so long and this sequence defied that. Hitchcock was able to insist on the scene’s necessity, however, because dialogue was inserted between the nuzzling and developed the story. Another Hitchcock victory straight from the Hayes office. Hitchcock also managed to keep in the suggestion that Alicia was quite the experienced woman, in bed. She mentions adding Sebastian to her list of playmates before the two are married, hurting Devlin in the process.

     In 1979 when Hitchcock was recognized by the American Film Institute, Ingrid Bergman presented him with the prop key used in this movie, which she had kept as a souvenir.

The MacGuffin: What is in the wine bottles?

Where’s Hitch? The director sips champaign at the party at Claude Rains’ mansion.

Source: Alfred Hitchcock: A Life in Darkness and Light by Patrick McGilligan

I will be posting reviews of Hitchcock movies every hour ending at 8 p.m. today, but other members of the Classic Movie Blog Association, which is hosting the blogathon, have plenty to offer also. Links to their articles is up at the CMBA site. Check them out!

Hitchcock Blogathon #3: Under Capricorn

Dullsville

Under Capricorn (1949)

     Hitchcock had always been adverse to what he termed “costume” pictures, or period pieces, and Under Capricorn only served to prove his deterrence correct. I went to lengths to acquire a copy of this film years ago after seeing and old poster for it. This, perhaps, was my first lesson in “good casting does not necessarily make for good movies.”

     The plot reminds me more of a Tennesee Williams play than a Hitchcock mystery in that it contains secrets gradually revealed the viewer. Unlike a TW work, however, there are multiple secrets revealed fairly quickly that lack any sort of shock factor. The movie also fails to provide a real romantic plot, which is something Hitchcock always incorporated into his stories. The most we get is when Michael Wilding‘s character kisses Ingrid Bergman in her bedroom, seemingly only to give her “courage”. From then on out we are unsure if the man actually cares for the married woman in that way.

     Set in New South Wales, Australia, Wilding is Charles Adaire, cousin to the country’s new governor who both have just arrived to the continent. He quickly befriends Joseph Cotton‘s Sam Flusky who is a former convict we later learn was imprisoned for killing his wife’s brother. The wife, Hattie Flusky, played by Bergman, is perpetually “ill” but she really is just drunk and delusional. People in Sydney are afraid of the vast Flusky estate saying “something’s not right” there, but that is never really explained. Adaire, who knew Hattie when he was younger back in Ireland, moves into the estate and tries to get the woman back to her old self. There is lots of talk about all the Fluskys have been through and all that has come between them over the years. Despite killing her brother, Hattie had followed Sam to Australia while he was imprisoned because she actually killed her sibling, and the single woman had to endure questionable things to survive during that time. Despite not being the same people they were when Sam is released after seven years, the two marry because they are essentially indebted to each other.

     As part of her recovery, Hattie tries to take control of her household, which has been run by a nasty maid. She struggles to do so but eventually the maid opts to leave. Before she goes, however, the servant manages to plant the seed in Sam’s brain that something untoward happened between Hattie and Adaire when in the bedroom together. A row occurs between Sam and Adaire and the former accidentally shoots the latter. Because Sam would be a second offender in this case of “attempted murder”, he could be hanged whether the man lives or dies. Hattie confesses to killing her brother, which would mean Sam is not a second offender, but she cannot be tried without Sam’s statement to confirm the facts, which he refuses. And if that was not enough going on, we discover the maid had been planting a shrunken head in Hattie’s bedroom, thus causing her madness and “delusions”, and forcing her to booze up. She also attempt to poison her at the end.

     The story is a horrid mess. The part dealing with the maid and Hattie’s psychosis is poorly developed –toward the beginning she mentions seeing something on her bed but not until the end do we add on and conclude that plot– and the sinister nature of Sam is not well illustrated. The performances are not bad, and I could say if some aspect was better executed it would be a fine film, but I do not think there is any redemption for Under Capricorn. This, the second project under Hitchcock’s Transatlantic Pictures, bombed at the box office and rightfully so. One of the writers, Hume Cronyn, recalled a session working on the script with Hitchcock  when the director said, “This film is going to be a flop. I’m going to lunch.” Smart man that.

The MacGuffin: No MacGuffin here, which perhaps is another reason this film disappoints.

Where’s Hitch? At the start of the film he is in town square during a parade wearing a blue coat and brown hat. About 10 minutes later he is one of three men on the steps of Government House.

Source: Alfred Hitchcock: A Life in Darkness and Light by Patrick McGilligan

I will be posting reviews of Hitchcock movies every hour ending at 8 p.m. today, but other members of the Classic Movie Blog Association, which is hosting the blogathon, have plenty to offer also. Links to their articles is up at the CMBA site. Check them out!

It’s a Wonderful World

Gasser

It's a Wonderful World (1939)

     I must say it is nice to finally have a comedy to post about, and a good one too, although I don’t think I had ever heard of it before. It’s a Wonderful World from 1939 is a slapstick adventure between Jimmy Stewart and Claudette Colbert. Although the title might have you wondering if I have in fact confused this with Stewart’s It’s a Wonderful Life, the plot line is also similar to another Colbert film involving the gal, with a guy, trying to reach a destination and evade the authorities. You might know that one as 1934′s Best Picture winner: It Happened One Night.

     The best term to describe this film is “fun.” We have Stewart as a private eye who ends up an accomplice to a murder because of ties to a wrongly accused man. He escapes police custody on his way to jail after he discovers the clue he needs to find the actual killers. While on the lamb he bumps into Colbert’s poet and ends up taking her along. Of course hilarity ensues and they gradually fall for each other.

     My feelings for Stewart have transformed over the years but have not wavered much from a sentiment that he is perhaps a mediocre actor. Too many exposures to It’s a Wonderful Life in my youth have led me to loathe that film and for a long time Stewart himself. I maintained until recent years that he could only play one character, the one we see in George Bailey. Perhaps things turned around for Stewart in my eyes when I saw Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Regardless, I still maintain that Stewart’s inability to alter his voice from distinctly Jimmy Stewart limits his acting skills. Now, I am not one to claim that an actor’s worth lies in his ability to speak with a southern twinge or a cockney bravado. Take, for instance, Ingrid Bergman in For Whom the Bell Tolls. She plays a Spanish mountain girl and despite her Swedish accent, makes it work. I did not even question her vocal inflections in this role (perhaps I was too distracted by her hair). Contrariwise, consider Audrey Hepburn in The Unforgiven. That one-of-a-kind (nice try, Jennifer Love Hewitt) French/English/Belgian accent of hers destroys the perception of her as a half American Indian, half white girl. Mind you it probably was not the accent that killed that picture (or her baby, but I won’t go there).

     Returning to Stewart, It’s a Wonderful World, is the first picture I’ve seen of his (that I recall) that allows him to have a little fun with accents and to prove my point. As he attempt to elude the police, he dons a Boy Scout troop leader get-up and claims to be an English actor. He offers up one line in that brogue that could not fool anyone. Later he masquerades as a southern gent and even more poorly performs that talking task. I realize these ramblings are strictly opinion and would be open to argument, if you can find one. Until then, It’s a Wonderful World gets the middle rating of Gasser because it is cute and funny but not a whole lot more.

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