A Letter to Three Wives (1949)

As intriguing as the title sounded to me, this is actually a reduction from the John Klempner story A Letter to Five Wives. I don't blame director Joseph L. Mankiewicz for trimming the number; 103 minutes was long enough. It certainly didn't hurt the prestige, netting Academy Awards for both Best Director and Best Screenplay, tho All the King's Men won Best Picture that year. (I might have nominated it for Best Sound, based on a brief Auto-Tune-like effect I didn't think they could make at the time.)

Deborah (Jeanne Crain), Rita (Ann Sothern), and Lora Mae (Linda Darnell) are heading off on a cruise when they receive the titular letter from their shared "friend," Addie (voiced by Celeste Holm but never clearly shown), boasting that she has run off with one of their husbands without saying who. They want to believe it's a sick joke, but each woman reflects on how easily it could her own. Most of the runtime consists of flashbacks to trouble brewing in their relationships, with Addie in the periphery like an ominous apparition. Only after the cruise can they hope to learn the truth.

Lonely Are the Brave (1962)

In the 1980 Sam Shepherd play True West, aspiring screenwriter Lee calls this the last great western, but his description makes it sound awkward if not ridiculous. When I noticed that the movie was popular anyway, I decided to find out whether he was accurate or just foolish as usual.

In modern New Mexico, cowhand Jack (Kirk Douglas) deliberately goes to jail in order to bust out a friend, Paul (Michael Kane), only to find that Paul would rather stay. Jack breaks loose within the day and flees to the mountains on horseback while authorities, most notably Sheriff Johnson (Walter Matthau), hunt him.

Lust for Life (1956)

To honor the late Kirk Douglas (again), I selected one of his most popular movies that I hadn't seen yet. Only after it arrived did I realize that it was about Vincent Van Gogh, a notoriously unhappy soul who died of violence, making this my most questionable postmortem viewing since The Fisher King in the wake of Robin Williams. Then again, Douglas did tend to play unhappy souls, many of whom died of violence, so maybe this was appropriate.

The story begins with Vincent's attempt to follow in his father's Dutch Reformed ministerial footsteps. In tending poor miner families at considerable cost to himself, he garners the ironic scorn of clerical elders. Alas, he decides it's not the life for him, and after discovering Impressionism, he decides to jump on the Post-Impressionist bandwagon. Drawing and later painting seem to him the only fulfilling experiences, but not consistently. As a then-little-known novice, he needs the support of brother Theo (James Donald), cousin-in-law Anton Mauve (Noel Purcell), and postman Joseph Roulin (Niall MacGinnis) to make ends meet.

In Harm's Way (1965)

This picture must have felt familiar to John Wayne. Twenty years earlier, he had played a major role in They Were Expendable, another naval story that pretty much begins with the Pearl Harbor attack. Only this time, however, does he get the very top billing, which is saying something when second goes to Kirk Douglas.

Both Rockwell Torrey (Wayne) and Paul Eddington (Douglas) have trouble staying in the military's good graces, Rock for using non-textbook maneuvers to ill effect and Paul for being generally unruly after learning of his wife's unfaithful debauchery. Still, at times like these, the Navy can't be too choosy in whom it retains if not promotes. While on shore, Rock meets his ensign son, Jeremiah, for the first time since Jere was four; their interactions are awkward, of course. All three of these men take special interest in at least one nurse (Rock's nurse being played by Patricia Neal), but war makes having a girlfriend hard even when she's within the same armed force.

There Was a Crooked Man... (1970)

The '70s were a strange time for westerns. After late '60s classics like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Wild Bunch, and the works of Sergio Leone, there must have been some pressure to try things a little differently. We got the kooky, offbeat Little Big Man and the contrary, brothel-focused McCabe & Mrs. Miller, both rather popular but neither up my alley. And sometimes quirks came together with R ratings, as in this, Joseph L. Mankiewicz's only effort at the genre.

Paris Pitman, Jr. (Kirk Douglas -- don't worry; I'll take a long break from him after this review) goes to a prison from which, according to an elderly cellmate known as the Missouri Kid (Burgess Meredith), no one has ever escaped with his life. But Paris has a lot of loot well hidden and would hate to let it go to waste. The first warden (Martin Gabel) offers to free Paris for 50% of it, but a more conscientious replacement (Henry Fonda) isn't on board. Paris uses the promise of riches to enlist the help of all his cellmates to escape, including a pathetic youth on death row (Michael Blodgett); a lazy swindler (John Randolph) and his effete, resentful, but loyal and talented assistant (Hume Cronyn); a strong, silent, seeming simpleton (C.K. Yang); and a violent drunkard (Warren Oates).

Young Man with a Horn (1950)

It's a little late for me to be continuing my celebration of Kirk Douglas, but why not do it anyway? Other people must be doing it too, because several of the films I wanted to see have a wait on Netflix. I made a point not to get a western this time, because my last viewing of him came awfully close. It's also from relatively early in his career, when he was not quite my current age.

Adapted from a novel based loosely on the life of Bix Beiderbecke, it centers on Douglas as Rick Martin (no, nobody calls him Ricky), who starts trumpet lessons as a tween orphan thanks to jazz band leader Art Hazzard (Juano Hernandez). In adulthood, he makes the professional and friendly acquaintance of narrating pianist "Smoke" (Hoagy Carmichael) and singer Jo Jordan (Doris Day). At first his main problem is a tendency to deviate from the sheet music, which doesn't sit well with most employers of the era. A bigger problem arrives in the form of Jo's friend Amy (Lauren Bacall), who draws his attention away from his music....

The Man from Snowy River (1983)

With the 100th birthday of Kirk Douglas last month, I thought I should check out another of his films soon. Of the ones I hadn't seen yet and wanted to, only this one was available streaming.

Not knowing the Banjo Petersen poem that inspired the movie, at first I thought it was a western, but the main accents give away an Australian setting in the same period as the Old West. Late teen Jim Craig has plenty of experience with horses, not all of it good: Brumbies (Aussie for wild horses) cause a fatal accident for his widowed father and make off with his mare, forcing Jim to look for a paying job. With the help of his dad's mining partner, Spur (Douglas), he finds ranch work under American transplant Harrison (also Douglas), who turns out to be Spur's estranged brother. Being a mountain boy makes Jim both valuable and an outsider. He soon finds that the best part of working there is proximity to Harrison's daughter, Jessica, who wants to pursue the same line of work as the men. But stubborn Harrison has other ideas for both of them.

The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946)

Looking for a heartwarming romance? Be warned: This is very much film noir, a genre in which "strange" typically doesn't work out for the better. Even examples with relatively happy endings will probably not raise your opinion of humanity.

Most of the movie takes place in its year of release, but the opening events of 1928 do a lot to put the rest in perspective. Early teen Martha has been suffocating under a strict aunt. Her efforts to run off with the help of Huckleberry Finn type Sam have failed repeatedly. On the night that Sam plans to leave town forever with or without Martha, her aunt provokes her into a mortal blow. (It's not clear to me -- maybe not even to Martha -- whether she meant to kill or just hurt.) Her tutor-turned-guardian, Mr. O'Neil, and his timid son, Walter, join her in perjuring against an uninvolved criminal to defend her. But this is no pseudo-familial kindness: Mr. O'Neil covets the Ivers fortune (they live in Iverstown, for crying out loud) and wants Martha and Walter to marry even if neither likes it. Nothing like a secret scandal to make them more receptive to the idea.