Kossoff, David

The Mouse That Roared

The Mouse That Roared (1959) is mostly remembered as a tour-de-force by a peerless comic actor, Peter Sellers, playing all three of the principal roles. It's worth seeing for that reason alone, but the film is also one of the most memorable satires of nuclear geopolitics produced during the cold war and, along with another Sellers vehicle, Dr. Strangelove, provides an unbeatable illustration of the paranoia and helplessness engendered by that period.

The Mouse That Roared tells the story of the fictional European principality of Grand Fenwick. Finding itself on the wrong end of a trade dispute with the United States, and noting America's generosity in rebuilding the countries it had fought in World War II, Grand Fenwick's rulers hit upon the idea of declaring war on the U.S., losing, and then reaping a Marshall Plan-style handout. The plan, proposed by Grand Fenwick's prime minister (played by Peter Sellers), is approved by the monarch (also played by Peter Sellers), who dispatches an invasion force under the command of Grand Fenwick's hapless Field Marshal (also played by Peter Sellers). Due to a series of happenstances and misunderstandings, however, Grand Fenwick's plan goes terribly wrong... --Andrew Mueller

Indiscreet

Romance is in the air when a dashing diplomat (Cary Grant) is introduced to a beautiful and famous actress (Ingrid Bergman). The fact that he's married doesn't stop the loves truck pair from falling into a passionate affair. But it turns out that the actress isn't the only one with a talent for role-playing -- her married lover is actually a single playboy with no intentions of settling down. When his secret is revealed she decides to give her Romeo a taste of his own medicine and discovers it's just what the love doctor ordered.System Requirements:Running Time: 102 Minutes Format: DVD MOVIE Genre: TELEVISION/CLASSIC Rating: NR UPC: 017153120479 Manufacturer No: 12047

Christian Dior really ought to be considered one of the stars of Indiscreet, director Stanley Donen's consummately glamorous, altogether grown-up love story. The magnificent 1950s "New Look" gowns Dior designed for Ingrid Bergman, herself at the peak of sophistication and loveliness, are a high point of the film's chic, cosmopolitan mise en scène. Bergman plays Anne Kalman, a celebrated actress who's "the envy of everyone who knows her," yet is bored and lonely. Then she meets suave diplomat Philip Adams (Cary Grant), her match in every way: looks, charm, elegance--the works. The electricity is palpable between them and neither makes any attempt to hide that fact. When Anne learns that Philip is an expert on international finance, she's bold enough to crack: "I'm crazy about hard currency."

It's the very maturity of the romance between Anne and Philip that makes this movie so exhilarating, so romantic, and so affecting. When people fall in love at "a certain age" it's much more poignant; much more is at stake. (The film has a truly surprising plot twist, which throws everything into chaos.) The two "sadder but wiser" stars Bergman and Grant had certainly seen their share of love and heartbreak by this time in their lives, and it shows. (Grant was on the third of his five marriages; Bergman's career had already survived the scandal of her adulterous affair with Roberto Rossellini.) It's fascinating to watch them both, knowing what we know of their personal lives: to see Bergman's Anne throw caution to the wind to commit an "indiscretion" with a married man; to observe Grant/Philip's distinct ambivalence about the institution of marriage. It's a case of picture-perfect casting. --Laura Mirsky

The Mouse on the Moon

The natives are growing restless in the tiny country of Grand Fenwick! There's no indoor plumbing, no money to pay for it and no one's had a hot bath in ages! Facing a winter without warm water, the conniving Prime Minister (Ron Moody, Oliver!) convinces the U.S. government to give him a million-dollar grant by promising to use it for Grand Fenwick's space program. There's just one pesky problem: Grand Fenwick doesn't have a space program! But when a local crackpot professor discovers that the region's wine makes radical rocket fuel, the little nation determines to blast its wayinto the space race and land on the moon before the U.S., Russia or anyone else! Get readyfor a spoof on space travel and political plotting that's so funny, it'll have you howling at the moon! Full of "hilarious slapstick moments" (Boxoffice), this lunar laugh-riot is a "delightful farce" (The Film Daily) that's out of this world!

The Cliff Richard Collection (The Young Ones / Summer Holiday / Wonderful Life)

The three nostalgic British musicals in the Cliff Richard Collection are a good reminder that, thanks to a few short years in the 1960s, Sir Cliff can legitimately include "film star" on his already exceptional show business résumé. The Young Ones (1961), Summer Holiday (1963), and Wonderful Life (1964) would make tame fare for a teen audience today, but they retain a polished and honest charm that might surprise the sharpest of cynics.

First and foremost, of course, they were Cliff Richard vehicles: designed to showcase his all-around talents and capitalize on his first, heady wave of pop chart success. They are also unashamed homages to the heyday of the MGM B-musical with familiar themes: let's put on a show/save the youth club/make a film. But with up-and-coming directors Sidney Furie and Peter Yates making imaginative and sophisticated use of wide-angle camerawork and fresh, snappy choreography by Herbert Ross and Gillian Lynne, they also have plenty of assets other than Richard's wholesome appeal. There are some fine set pieces and surreal flashes, notably the history of cinema in Wonderful Life and the extraordinary mime sequence in Summer Holiday. They also tap into the very British energy of a group of young actors and dancers including Una Stubbs, Susan Hampshire, Melvyn Hayes, and Richard O'Sullivan, as well as Richard's band at the time, the Shadows. For sheer verve, the films deserve to be seen on their own merits. --Piers Ford

A Kid for Two Farthings

This dreamy, quirky film, directed by Sir Carol Reed (The Third Man), combines elements of British "kitchen sink" realism with Fellini-esque fantasy and the Jewish fables of Isaac Bashevis Singer. A spunky little boy, Joe, lives with his mother in old Mr. Kandinsky's tailor shop in the midst of a bustling London bazaar a few years after the Blitz. Kandinsky fills Joe's head with stories of the magical power of unicorns and their ability to grant wishes. Eager to help his extended family attain their dreams, Joe buys a unicorn--actually a one-horned baby goat--from a vagrant. For himself and his mother, Joe requests his father's return from South Africa; for neighborhood beauty Sonia (Diana Dors, "the English Marilyn Monroe"), he wishes an engagement ring. Joe also wishes for Sonia's boyfriend, Body Beautiful magazine cover boy Sam, to beat the evil giant Python Macklin (Primo Carnera, a.k.a. "the Ambling Alp") at wrestling, and for Kandinsky to get a steam presser.

The story is sweet but the movie has overtones both serious and surreal: discordant jazz plays on the soundtrack and Joe's pets keep dying on him. The tale Kandinsky tells Joe about how unicorns became extinct is an obvious metaphor for the extermination of the Jews by the Nazis. Joe's neighborhood is a true cultural melting pot: one doesn't see many 1950s British movies with settings like this. The film might have been too eccentric to become a family staple, but it's quite fascinating today. --Laura Mirsky

From legendary filmmaker Carol Reed (The Third Man, Odd Man Out, Oliver!) comes this charming fantasy about the power of childhood imagination. Joe is a young boy who lives in a poor section in London. He becomes convinced that through the mythical powers of a unicorn, he can grant the wishes of his mother and friends. Joe searches endlessly and finally discovers his unicorn—which turns out to be just a goat with a misshapen horn. Or is it? A Kid For Two Farthings is a touching film about the power of make believe.

Summer Holiday

I Am a Camera

Who Done It?

The Mouse That Roared [Region 2]

The Mouse That Roared (1959) is mostly remembered as a tour-de-force by a peerless comic actor, Peter Sellers, playing all three of the principal roles. It's worth seeing for that reason alone, but the film is also one of the most memorable satires of nuclear geopolitics produced during the cold war and, along with another Sellers vehicle, Dr. Strangelove, provides an unbeatable illustration of the paranoia and helplessness engendered by that period.

The Mouse That Roared tells the story of the fictional European principality of Grand Fenwick. Finding itself on the wrong end of a trade dispute with the United States, and noting America's generosity in rebuilding the countries it had fought in World War II, Grand Fenwick's rulers hit upon the idea of declaring war on the U.S., losing, and then reaping a Marshall Plan-style handout. The plan, proposed by Grand Fenwick's prime minister (played by Peter Sellers), is approved by the monarch (also played by Peter Sellers), who dispatches an invasion force under the command of Grand Fenwick's hapless Field Marshal (also played by Peter Sellers). Due to a series of happenstances and misunderstandings, however, Grand Fenwick's plan goes terribly wrong... --Andrew Mueller

Indiscreet [Region 2]

Christian Dior really ought to be considered one of the stars of Indiscreet, director Stanley Donen's consummately glamorous, altogether grown-up love story. The magnificent 1950s "New Look" gowns Dior designed for Ingrid Bergman, herself at the peak of sophistication and loveliness, are a high point of the film's chic, cosmopolitan mise en scène. Bergman plays Anne Kalman, a celebrated actress who's "the envy of everyone who knows her," yet is bored and lonely. Then she meets suave diplomat Philip Adams (Cary Grant), her match in every way: looks, charm, elegance--the works. The electricity is palpable between them and neither makes any attempt to hide that fact. When Anne learns that Philip is an expert on international finance, she's bold enough to crack: "I'm crazy about hard currency."

It's the very maturity of the romance between Anne and Philip that makes this movie so exhilarating, so romantic, and so affecting. When people fall in love at "a certain age" it's much more poignant; much more is at stake. (The film has a truly surprising plot twist, which throws everything into chaos.) The two "sadder but wiser" stars Bergman and Grant had certainly seen their share of love and heartbreak by this time in their lives, and it shows. (Grant was on the third of his five marriages; Bergman's career had already survived the scandal of her adulterous affair with Roberto Rossellini.) It's fascinating to watch them both, knowing what we know of their personal lives: to see Bergman's Anne throw caution to the wind to commit an "indiscretion" with a married man; to observe Grant/Philip's distinct ambivalence about the institution of marriage. It's a case of picture-perfect casting. --Laura Mirsky