Showing posts with label jud taylor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jud taylor. Show all posts

Friday, March 4, 2016

Mary White (1977)



          A father’s eulogy for a woman who died too young might not seem like ideal source material for a screen drama, but William Allen White’s celebration of his daughter, Mary, was unusual in many regards. Written in the White family’s hometown of Emporia, Kansas, in 1921, the eulogy was less a lament about the brutality of fate and more a tribute to an inspirational spirit. Moreover, the piece gave Mary White a measure of immortality because the eulogy earned a Pulitzer Prize for William, a progressive newspaperman who was friendly with many of the great minds of his day.
          As written for the screen by Caryl Ledner and directed by Jud Taylor, Mary White boasts depth and resonance—in addition to conveying an impression of what made Mary special, thereby telling an eternal story about the promise of youth, the movie positions Mary as a proto-feminist who became acquainted with and modeled herself after suffragette Jane Addams. As such, Mary White isn’t just some sepia-toned example of sentimental Americana. It’s a lyrical and rigorous character study well suited to the Ms. Magazine era.
          The movie opens with a theatrical gesture, because William (Ed Flanders) speaks directly to camera while setting the scene. Next, the picture transitions to a series of illustrative vignettes. These culminate in Mary’s death during a horseback-riding accident—a sad irony, given her expertise in the saddle. Thereafter, Mary White weaves through flashbacks depicting Mary’s eventful adolescence. She debates with her parents about her plans for the future, challenging even their forward-thinking attitudes with her view that women should not have limits placed upon them by society. She agitates to end segregation at her school, learning hard lessons about how activism impacts people. She disrupts a KKK rally. She takes an illuminating trip to New York City with her father, forcing him to recognize that despite her youth, she aspires to being considered an equal.
          While Flanders’ effortless way of conveying charm, intelligence, and morality anchors Mary White, Kathleen Beller’s performance in the title role is crucial. This is arguably her best-ever work, especially since most of her other ’70s and ’80s roles played up her voluptuous figure instead of her dramatic abilities. Mary White also benefits from a fine supporting cast—including Diana Douglas, Fionnula Flanagan, Tim Matheson, and Donald Moffat—as well as rich cinematography by Bill Butler and a score by Leonard Rosenman that evokes Aaron Copland’s rousing melodies.

Mary White: GROOVY

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Winter Kill (1974)


          After actor/producer Andy Griffith left the series that bore his name, the 1960-1968 family favorite The Andy Griffith Show, he spent nearly two decades casting about for another project that curried equal favor with the public. Some of the failed pilots and short-lived series he made during these wilderness years, which extended until the 1986 launch of his geriatric-lawyer show Matlock, are interesting because they’re edgier than the kind of material one normally associates with Griffith. For instance, the 1974 telefilm Winter Kill, the first of three TV movies designed to launch a new series featuring Griffith as a small-town sheriff facing grislier problems than The Andy Griffith Show’s unflappable Andy Taylor ever encountered, is a suspense story about a serial killer. It’s startling to see good-ol’-boy Griffith tracking down a psycho who slips on a ski mask and prowls around a snow-covered resort town by night, blowing away victims with a shotgun and spray-painting the number of each murder near the crime scene. Mayberry, this ain’t.
          Even aside from the novelty of seeing Griffith in a new context, Winter Kill is fairly effective, and with good reason: Screenwriter John Michael Hayes, whose career was winding down at this point, counted three Alfred Hitchcock classics, including the seminal Rear Window (1954), among his past credits, so he clearly learned a few things about generating tension from the Master of Suspense. Winter Kill unfurls in a straightforward fashion, with Sheriff Sam McNeill (Griffith) uncovering his neighbors’ tawdry secrets while he looks for connections between murder victims. This prompts flashbacks showcasing the sordid sex lives of various townies, and we also discover the pressures McNeil faces when he starts treating his constituents as suspects.
          Although the specifics of the story are a bit on the generic side and the supporting cast is largely populated with workaday actors (exception: a young Nick Nolte shows up as a cocky ski instructor), Winter Kill manages to sustain interest from start to finish because Hayes and director Jud Taylor stay focused on the race to catch the killer. Furthermore, the murder scenes are memorable for their docudrama simplicity: Watching the masked killer methodically load his weapon and then trudge through snow toward his next victim preys upon the universal fear of something awful creeping out of the night. And who better to protect us than our beloved Sheriff Andy? If nothing else, Winter Kill is a reminder of Griffith’s versatility, something worth remembering on the sad event of his passing today at the age of 86. (Available at WarnerArchive.com)

Winter Kill: GROOVY