Irving, George

Classic Comedies Collection (Bringing Up Baby / The Philadelphia Story Two-Disc Special Edition / Dinner at Eight / Libeled Lady / Stage Door / To Be or Not to Be)

"The love impulse in man," says a psychiatrist in Bringing Up Baby, "frequently reveals itself in terms of conflict." That's for sure. For a primer on the rules and regulations of the classic screwball comedy, which throws love and conflict into close proximity, look no further. A straight-laced paleontologist (Cary Grant) loses a dinosaur bone to a dog belonging to free-spirited heiress Katharine Hepburn. In trying to retrieve said bone, Grant is drawn into the vortex surrounding the delicious Hepburn, which becomes a flirtatious pas de deux that will transform both of them. Director Howard Hawks plays the complications as a breathless escalation of their "love impulse," yet the movie is nonetheless romantic for all its speed. (Hawks's His Girl Friday, also with Grant, goes even faster.) Grant and Hepburn are a match made in movie heaven, in sync with each other throughout. Not a great box-office success when first released, Bringing Up Baby has since taken its place as a high-water mark of the screwball form, and it was used as a model for Peter Bogdanovich's What's Up, Doc?

Re-creating the role she originated in Philip Barry's wickedly witty Broadway play, Katharine Hepburn stars as the spoiled and snobby socialite Tracy Lord in The Philadelphia Story, one of the great romantic comedies from the golden age of MGM studios. Applying her impossibly high ideals to everyone but herself, Tracy is about to marry a stuffy executive when her congenial ex-husband (Cary Grant), arrives to protect his former father-in-law from a potentially scandalous tabloid exposé. In an Oscar-winning role, James Stewart is the scandal reporter who falls for Tracy as her wedding day arrives, throwing her into a dizzying state of premarital jitters. Who will join Tracy at the altar? Snappy dialogue flows like sparkling wine under the sophisticated direction of George Cukor in this film that turned the tide of Hepburn's career from "box-office poison" to glamorous Hollywood star.

MGM originally promoted Dinner at Eight by touting the "all-star cast," but this is no run-of-the-mill omnibus picture. On the contrary, rather than cramming as many big names as possible into a lumbering vehicle, the movie's impeccably crafted script (by Edna Ferber and Herman J. Mankiewicz) and direction (by George Cukor) gave some immortal screen luminaries a chance to shine. For sheer bravery, John Barrymore's achingly poignant performance as Larry Renault, a washed-up matinee idol who has "outlived everything but his vanity," is unmatched. Barrymore's brother, Lionel, is equally touching as shipping magnate Oliver Jordan. Oliver vainly tries to save his family's century-old firm, at the same time hiding his financial and health troubles from his wife, Millicent, played to hysterical perfection by Billie Burke. The Great Depression is presented in microcosm as Millicent frets about throwing the ultimate society dinner, oblivious to the world tumbling down around her. She is forced to invite to her precious party such undesirables as crass financier Dan Packard ("He smells Oklahoma!"). Even worse in Millicent's eyes than Packard (Wallace Beery, doing an impressive steamroller imitation) is his social-climbing wife, Kitty (Jean Harlow, never funnier). Be sure to watch for Harlow's brief encounter with Marie Dressler, who brings an extraordinary winking wisdom to the role of aging star Carlotta Vance. As the two enter the dining room in the film's final scene, Harlow makes an offhand remark that elicits from Dressler one of the great screen double takes of all time. Like so much of Dinner at Eight, the moment is priceless.

Newspaper comedy doesn't seem like an MGM genre--ink-stained wretches don't go with Adrian gowns and white deco furniture--but Jack Conway, the designated bull in the Metro china shop (Boom Town, Too Hot to Handle) does what he can to bring some dash and flair to Libeled Lady's wildly complicated script. Spencer Tracy is the tough city editor who goes to some spectacular extremes when socialite Myrna Loy files a $5 million libel suit against his paper for calling her a notorious home-wrecker; he hires celebrated ladies' man William Powell to seduce Loy and asks his long-suffering fiancée, Jean Harlow, to marry Powell temporarily so she can play the wronged wife when Loy and Powell are discovered together. The couples crisscross, with frenetic and not entirely unpredictable results, but much of the pleasure here lies in seeing these iconic stars being so thoroughly themselves. The dialogue strains for champagne wit, but the movie's most memorable moment is pure, rotgut slapstick--Powell's bout with an unruly fly-fishing rod.

This one's all about the ladies. In Stage Door, an absolutely terrific 1937 gem, a Manhattan boardinghouse for aspiring actresses houses an amazing roster of golden-era performers--some of whom, like their characters, were just breaking in. It's hard to say who's in best form here: Katharine Hepburn in blueblood mode, Ginger Rogers streetwise, Andrea Leeds suffering, Lucille Ball and Ann Miller impossibly young, and Eve Arden being, well, splendidly Eve Ardenish. The sassy comedy and sober life lessons are wonderfully mixed by the underrated director Gregory La Cava (My Man Godfrey), who captures the brashness of '30s female chatter in a much pleasanter way than the more famous The Women. Hepburn's sublime attempts to wrestle with the line about calla lilies being in bloom will make you smile long after the movie's over.

Bringing Up Baby (Two-Disc Special Edition)

"The love impulse in man," says a psychiatrist in Bringing Up Baby, "frequently reveals itself in terms of conflict." That's for sure. For a primer on the rules and regulations of the classic screwball comedy, which throws love and conflict into close proximity, look no further. A straight-laced paleontologist (Cary Grant) loses a dinosaur bone to a dog belonging to free-spirited heiress Katharine Hepburn. In trying to retrieve said bone, Grant is drawn into the vortex surrounding the delicious Hepburn, which becomes a flirtatious pas de deux that will transform both of them. Director Howard Hawks plays the complications as a breathless escalation of their "love impulse," yet the movie is nonetheless romantic for all its speed. (Hawks's His Girl Friday, also with Grant, goes even faster.) Grant and Hepburn are a match made in movie heaven, in sync with each other throughout. Not a great box-office success when first released, Bringing Up Baby has since taken its place as a high-water mark of the screwball form, and it was used as a model for Peter Bogdanovich's What's Up, Doc? --Robert Horton

Bright Eyes

Shirley Temple, the original dancing baby, sings her signature song, "On the Good Ship Lollipop," in this heart-rending drama, one of eight films she made in 1934 (!) at the ripe age of 6, and for which she was honored with a special pint-sized Academy Award. Temple stars as Shirley, the curly-headed "gosh, oh gee"-adorable mascot to a group of aviators since her pilot father "cracked up and went to heaven." Get out your handkerchiefs when Shirley's mother is also killed, setting up a custody battle between the nasty, highfalutin Joy Smythe's curmudgeon uncle Ned; Loop, another pilot; and the society girl who once left Loop grounded at the altar.

Temple's movies are today marketed as children's films, but, like the classic Warner Bros. cartoons, they were made for adults. Her plucky, indomitable spirit helped America get through the Depression. She's perky and precocious to beat the band, but she suffers so on the way to the inevitable happy ending. When she gushes, "It's the best day I've ever had in my whole life," you know tragedy is imminent.

In Bright Eyes she is also at the mercy of bratty Smythe (scene-stealing Jane Withers), a pint-sized tantrum-throwing terror who makes Linda Blair in The Exorcist look like a Teletubbie. A further parental advisory in these politically correct times: Joy's eagerly awaited comeuppance is a real slap in the face. --Donald Liebenson

The first big film created especially for her, Bright Eyes helped make Shirley Temple a huge box-office star and features her most famous song: "On The Good Ship Lollipop".

The little darling of a group of aviators, Shirley splits her time between her pilot godfather Loop (James Dunn) and her long-suffering mother (Lois Wilson), housemaid for a selfish, wealthy family. When a tragic accident suddenly leaves Shirley orphaned, Loop sets out to adopt Shirley- until he learns he's not the only one determined to keep the adorable youngster.

Captain January

A 1936 vehicle for Shirley Temple, Captain January is actually a remake of a 1922 feature starring Baby Peggy Montgomery as an orphan informally adopted by the lighthouse keeper who rescues her from a storm. The Temple version, directed by David Butler, finds the little star playing a child named, well, Star, who is rescued and taken in by a salty old lighthouse-keeper known as Captain January (Guy Kibbee). Like a briny variation on Bret Harte's classic story, "The Luck of Roaring Camp," Captain January finds Star nurtured by a community of aging sailors who adore her, including her hoofer friend Paul (Buddy Ebsen), with whom Star sings and dances one of the most-beloved numbers from a Shirley Temple movie, "At the Codfish Ball." Star's fable-like paradise is disrupted by the appearance of a truant officer (Sara Haden), who determines the child isn't receiving proper schooling and overall care. That decision leads to a bit of conflict and despair, but with Temple wiggling, singing, and charming her way through her character's mostly enchanted circumstances, it's not hard to have faith in happy endings. The film is offered in both its original black-and-white presentation and in colorized form. Special features include a trailer and clips from Temple's appearance at the presentation of a memorial to Will Rogers. --Tom Keogh

Four year old star (Temple) has been living with Captain January (Guy Kibbee) ever since he rescued her form a shipwreck when she was a baby. Now their happy life together is unexpectedly threatened when the town's new truant officer tries to take her away from the lighthouse keeper and place her in an institution.System Requirements:Running Time: 75 minutesFormat: DVD MOVIE Genre: COMEDY Rating: G UPC: 024543249283 Manufacturer No: 2234928

Dracula's Daughter/Son of Dracula

Dracula's Daughter This cut-rate sequel to Dracula, sans Bela Lugosi, turns out to be an unexpectedly sleek and stylish movie. Gloria Holden, tall, dark, and continental, is the aristocratic title character fighting her nature and seeking a cure for her affliction. A sympathetic psychiatrist, Dr. Garth (Otto Kruger), encourages her to "face her fears," but when she lures a pretty young streetwalker to her room to model for a painting, the temptation of her fleshy offering proves too much to overcome. Edward Van Sloan reprises his role as Van Helsing, held by the police for the murder of Count Dracula (the film opens on the final scene from Dracula) but released in the nick of time to help Garth, now at the mercy of the bitter and vindictive vampire. Director Lambert Hillyer makes the most of his low budget, with austere, angular sets and an almost abstract sense of the foggy city night. Holden's mysterious face and tall, willowy body make her an even more striking vampire than Lugosi, and Irving Pichel's offbeat servant is like an American gangster with the breeding of a European aristocrat: thick and thuggish, but always proper. The script falls into the usual rut of Universal's later horror films, losing the mood in the busy plot, but the smooth style and Holden's dignified performance lift Dracula's Daughter above most Universal sequels.

Son of Dracula It was perhaps inevitable that, after playing the Wolf Man, Frankenstein's monster, and the Mummy, Lon Chaney Jr. would round out his horror resumé with a turn at the great bloodsucker himself (not, as the title would suggest, his son). Looking dapper and dignified under the cape, if not exactly threatening, Chaney plays Count Alucard (that's Dracula spelled backwards), a mysterious Carpathian summoned to America by a "morbid" heiress (Louise Allbritton). Eric Taylor's script is rather clunky, but the story (by horror specialist Curt The Wolfman Siodmak) is often quite clever, playing like a supernatural twist on a psycho-thriller. Allbritton's frustrated fiancé Robert Page accidentally "kills" her while trying to shoot Alucard (who imperiously stands up to the hail of bullets) and then goes stark raving mad as he watches the dead rise to life and the living disappear in wisps of smoke and morph into creaky stage bats.

Future film noir legend (and Curt's brother) Robert Siodmak (The Killers) does wonders with the swampy, misty Deep South setting despite his obviously threadbare budget, transforming the usual clichés into moments of inspired melodrama. Only the clumsy antics of the skeptical cops and the plodding exposition spouted by an old Carpathian doctor (he just happens to be the local MD) get in the way of this moody minor horror gem. --Sean Axmaker

Behind Office Doors

Mandarin Mystery

Josephine Temple (Charlotte Henry) has recently acquired the most valuable stamp in the world, the Chinese Mandarin, and has come to New York to sell it to a famous collector. But before the deal is done, the $50,000 stamp is stolen, two people are murder

Three Bad Men/Hangman's House

THREE BAD MEN: In John Ford's 1926 drama three outlaws step up the task of helping a young girl whose father was killed.HANGMAN'S HOUSE: Set in Ireland this 1928 John Ford feature concerns a dying man's attempts to arrange a future and marriage for his daughter who wants nothing to do with the plan. John Wayne appears as an extra in one scene.System Requirements:Run time: 203 minutesFormat: DVD MOVIE Genre: WESTERN/CLASSICS Rating: NR UPC: 024543482727 Manufacturer No: 2248272

Bluebeard

Damaged Lives