Walt at Random

My Man Godfrey, 1936, b&w. Gregory La Cava (dir.), William Powell, Carole Lombard, Alice Brady, Gail Patrick, Eugene Pallette, Jean Dixon, Alan Mowbray, Mischa Auer. 1:34.

Set in the depression, this movie involves a wealthy (for the moment) family of eccentrics and a man (William Powell) living in the city dump, “found” as part of a scavenger hunt and turned into a butler for a family notoriously unable to keep butlers—a role he serves exceedingly well. The younger daughter who found him (Lombard) (well, the mean-spirited older daughter found him first, but she was so offensive he pushed her into an ashpile) falls for him and tends to over-emote about everything. He treats her Properly, as a butler should. Oh, and the family’s wealth is less secure than it might seem to be—and the father, the only sensible one of the bunch, is getting fed up with the rest of the family.

That’s the setup. It’s all done very well, a comedy of manners and a screwball comedy, with a somewhat remarkable closing sequence. It’s William Powell’s movie, but the rest of the cast offers strong (if sometimes overplayed) support—Lombard is hysterical in her apparent hysteria. Oh, and there’s one other thing: It’s funny. Four actors (and the director) received Academy Award nominations—I’d guess they were all well deserved. Good print, thoroughly enjoyable, a classic, an easy $2.00.

One Rainy Afternoon, 1936, b&w. Rowland V. Lee (dir.), Francis Lederer, Ida Lupino, Hugh Herbert, Roland Young, Erik Rhodes, Joseph Cawthron, Live De Maigret, Mischa Auer. 1:34 [1:19].

Here’s the plot, pretty much in its entirety: A French actor/singer is having an “affair” (kisses only, apparently) with a married woman, where they go to a movie after it’s started, entering separately, smooch, then leave before the movie’s over. (He finds this incredibly frustrating because he never sees how the movie ends.) One rainy afternoon, after she’s gone in, he hands his ticket to the usher—and we get the key plot point, which is that “66” upside down is “99.”

That’s right: He winds up in the wrong seat and kisses the wrong woman (Ida Lupino), who not incidentally is prettier and nicer than the married one. There’s an instant problem, mostly because she’s a little startled and the theater seems populated by a group of harridans who insist on high moral standards, and see to it that he’s arrested. He gets put in jail because he can’t afford a hefty fine; she bails him out; he pays her back a little at a time at an ice-skating rink (allowing for loads of physical comedy); her annoying fiancé is not thrilled…and lots of publicity about this “monster” makes him a hot box office draw. That’s about it, plus of course a happy ending of sorts.

Ah, but this one’s a charming farce and romantic comedy, just a pleasure to watch. What can I say? This film is strong evidence that, for comedy even more than most film genres, it’s the performances, not the plot. The print’s OK (not great, not terrible) but the sound’s scratchy, which is the only thing reducing this charmer to $1.50.

The Great Mike, 1944, b&w. Wallace Fox (dir.), Stuart Erwin, Robert ‘Buzz’ Henry, Carl ‘Alfalfa’ Switzer, Edythe Elliott, Pierre Watkin, Gwen Kenyon. 1:12 [1:03]

Two kids deliver newspapers using a wagon pulled by…a thoroughbred? Which one of them is trying to buy on the installment plan from his uncle. They start delivering to a new resident, who turns out to be a stable owner; he lets the “delivery wagon horse” run against one of his horses, which barely beats the nag—and his horse turns out to be a champion.

That’s the setup. Then the uncle says he has to sell the horse ’cause he needs the money, the new owner finds that the horse won’t eat or train because he misses his pal (the kid’s dog), the stable owner’s trainer goes in with the kid to buy the horse, and it goes from there, including race-fixers—all, basically, aimed toward buying good gym equipment for the kid’s pals.

Not bad although very hokey, with lots of racing scenes, but the print’s really poor and the sound’s sometimes worse, and one key scene is missing entirely. Given those problems, I can’t come up with more than $0.75.

Three Guys Named Mike, 1951, b&w. Charles Walters (dir.), Jane Wyman, Van Johnson, Howard Keel, Barry Sullivan. 1:30.

I don’t know whether American Airlines paid for product placement or just cooperated, but their logo and distinctive “paint job” are there throughout this tale of a brand-new opinionated stewardess and her three beaus. There’s a pilot named Mike, an adman named Mike and a grad student scientist named Mike. From her job interview through amusing incidents on board the (pre-jet) plane (a DC-3) through finding a place to live with three other stewardesses to her Big Decision—it’s sprightly, well-played by a first-rate cast, frequently funny and a real charmer. It’s on the slight side, but still an easy $1.50.

Some of you may remember back in May 2008 when I discussed the unexpectedly good customer service provided by Mill Creek Entertainment, the company busily mining public domain (and otherwise minimal-license) flicks and TV flicks to create really inexpensive bundles of movies on DVD.
(That’s not all the company does, to be sure, but I know them most for the “50 Movie Packs”–50 movies on 12 DVDs–of which there are now 23 examples. The company’s motto is “changing the face of value entertainment!” and they’re also doing other things, including TV series and documentary compilations.)
The gist of the earlier post: When I reached Disc 8 of the Hollywood Legends 50-pack, with The Town Went Wild and Man with the Golden Arm on Side A, I found that Side A was actually Disc 11 Side A. Since I paid $15 or so for the set and had had it for a year or more, I just sent Mill Creek email to let them know, in case there had been a general production problem. I didn’t have a receipt, I didn’t remember where I’d purchased the set, I didn’t feel the need for compensation.
They responded the next day and mailed me not only the replacement disc but a couple of other (smaller) DVD collections for my trouble, along with an apology. That, I thought, was great customer service: Above and beyond the call, particularly for something so inexpensive not purchased directly from them.
(A few of you may also remember the contrasting post when one of the six discs in Angel, Season 4 proved to be utterly defective. The only way I could get a replacement disc is by sending the entire box set back to Fox, via insured mail, with a recent receipt, and waiting six to eight weeks. Oh, and the receipt needed to be dated within “a reasonable time frame,” that time frame not stated. But hey, it’s Fox.)

Getting past the preamble

So I continue to buy Mill Creek packs when they look interesting and Amazon has them at the right price–or at least I did when I was still using old movies to stay on the treadmill. (Each time I’ve seen all the movies on one disc, I review them–but I’m putting those posts on Walt, Even Randomer, since they’re too silly for ScienceBlogs.) I’m still watching the old movies, even without the treadmill…
And I was intrigued by Mill Creek’s ultimate repackaging attempts, the four 250-movie collections they produced for a while (and seem to have stopped, at least based on their website): 60 DVDs, 250 movies, selling at the time for around $50 at Amazon. Yes, of course those collections are repackaged compilations of multiple 50-movie packs (where they don’t overlap, as sometimes happens), just as the dozen 100-movie packs are simply combinations of 50-movie packs. I purchased the Mystery Collection (the link here is to Amazon, which still has this collection but at a higher price lower price, although it was a higher price a couple of weeks ago). That was also a while back–probably at least six months.
Last week, I neared the point where I’d start alternating discs from this megapack with discs from less massive collections. So I skimmed through the 60 sleeves, partly to see how many flicks are in color (most aren’t, as I’d expect) and how many I’ve already seen (not many). And got to Disc 57. Which was actually Disc 59, both sleeve and disc. And there was also a Disc 59.
Well, hey, no big deal–but, given the quality of the previous response, I did send a quick email to Mill Creek, basically saying “don’t need to send me any extras, but if you have another Disc 57 handy, I’d be grateful.”
Next day, a reply, saying a replacement is on its way. How can you argue with service like this–where they trust me even though I’ve never had business dealings directly with the publisher? Sure, the discs can’t cost them much, but handling–preparing the shipping label and paying MediaMail–is far from free and probably eliminates any profit they make from a typical 50-pack.
That was just before ALA. When I returned, there was a bigger box than I’d expected. That box included two 20-movie packs (4 or 5 discs), both of which I’ll enjoy (one of ’em is 20 spaghetti westerns, only two of which I’ve seen: how can I go wrong?); a 50-movie pack I didn’t already own (although, as it happens, it includes 19 of the 20 Hitchcock movies they sent me as a freebie last year)–and “Action Classics Disk 9” (in a previous incarnation, they had a problem with Disk vs. Disc, since corrected).
I sent a “thank you” email and noted that what I was missing was Mystery Collection Disc 57, not Action Classics Disk 9. And, the same day, got back a note: They’re the same thing. (As noted above, I believe MCE isn’t producing the 250-movie collections any more, so probably didn’t have extra copies of the other sleeve.)

Conclusion

Mill Creek Entertainment didn’t ask me to blog about it. I doubt that they’re really aware of this blog. They just seem to respond to minor problems by going above & beyond…and assuming good faith on the part of the consumer.
Oh, I imagine that if I sent them six emails in a month saying I was missing six different discs, or that I had defectives from several different collections, they might raise questions–or at least I hope they would. (I’d like to see them stay in business; I believe these collections are, on the whole, Good Things, mining the public domain and also offering in-copyright material that original producers wouldn’t deem worthwhile for DVD, always at extremely reasonable prices.)
So, on that up note, I won’t go into the details of a last-night-in-Chicago incident that could be summarized as “don’t pay cash in a lobby bar.” Mill Creek had nothing to do with that little contretemps, which still hasn’t been resolved…