Review #1,200: 'The Unholy Three' (1925)

Before he gifted the world of horror with two stone-cold classics (1931's Dracula and 1932's Freaks), director Tod Browning was an incredibly prolific film-maker, churning out melodramas, thrillers and horror pictures by the dozen. One of his best during the silent period was The Unholy Three, a rather twisted crime drama set around a group of ex-circus freaks who come up with a plan to steal their fortune. It's a premise that would have any cinephile salivating, especially with genre legend and 'Man of a Thousand Faces' Lon Chaney playing the lead and the film's relative obscurity. While it's no masterpiece like Freaks, it explores a different side to the circus performer: one that is dissatisfied, restless, and capable of going to extreme lengths to earn their riches.

After getting kicked out of the side-show following a mass brawl, three disgruntled performers hatch a cunning plan to rob some rick folk blind. Ventriloquist Echo (Chaney) will assume the disguise of Granny O'Grady, a nice old lady who runs a pet store specialising in parrots. The animals do not talk, but Echo uses his ventriloquist skills to convince the moustache-twirling customers otherwise. When the unhappy purchaser later calls the store to complain, Granny O'Grady will snoop out the place, paving the way for horseshoe-bending strongman Hercules (Victor McLaglen) and short-tempered midget Tweedledee (Harry Earles) to sneak in and steal any spied valuables. There's also an escape plan in mild-mannered store manager Hector (Matt Moore), who the three will lay the blame on should the heat turn up. But when Echo's girlfriend Rosie (Mae Busch) falls for Hector, the plan quickly starts to fall apart.

There are a lot of things about The Unholy Three that are utterly ridiculous, such as Echo's needlessly convoluted plan, and the idea that anyone would buy the cigar-chomping Earles as a baby in a cart. Yet the flaws are really the reason to love the film that much more. There is a morbid fascination to be had with watching these idiots repeatedly shoot themselves in the foot and quickly resort to cold-blood murder. Chaney really was the man of a thousand faces; effortlessly convincing as both a harmless old lady and a sympathetic anti-hero, and Earles - who would later appear in Freaks - is great fun, delivering what is undoubtedly the film's greatest line ("If you tip that boob off to who we are, I'll lay some lilies under your chin!"). The strange premise and macabre characters proved a hit with the audience, and catapulted Browning into the big leagues. It may lack the edge of his later movies, but The Unholy Three retains a ghoulish quality a whole 92 years after its release.


Directed by: Tod Browning
Starring: Lon Chaney, Mae Busch, Matt Moore, Victor McLaglen, Harry Earles
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,064: 'The Quiet Man' (1952)

It's a cliche to say, about a movie especially, that "they don't make 'em like that anymore." But in the case of The Quiet Man, a gentle comedy drama from John Ford, they really don't. If it was made today, this romantic tale set in the luscious green countryside of Ireland would no doubt star some square-jawed pretty-boy as the male lead, with the role of the leading lady going to some vacuous up-and-comer hoping to make the transition from TV into film before fading into utter obscurity. Back in 1952 they got two of cinema's Golden Age powerhouses, John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara, who sizzle with chemistry, charisma and charm, combining to help create one of the finest films of its time.

Something of a departure for Ford and Wayne, who were most famous for delivering tough horse operas in the Old West, the film was only made by Republic Picture on the promise that Ford make a western for them first to make up for question mark looming over the box-office appeal of The Quiet Man. He obliged and made Rio Grande (1950), before setting off for Ireland to make the passion project he purchased the movie rights to back in the 1930's. He brought Wayne with him too, but he would kill no injuns and saddle no horses (although he does get to briefly ride one) here, but instead play Sean Thornton, the 'quiet man' of the title - a dashing, friendly American who retreats to his birthplace of Ireland carrying a dark secret on his shoulders.

Soon upon arriving, Sean is struck by the beauty of the temperamental Mary Kate Danaher (O'Hara), the sister of landowner Squire 'Red' Will Danaher (Victor McLagen). When Sean quickly purchases the cottage in which he was born, he finds himself immediately at odds with the loud-mouthed and brutish Will, who has had his eyes on the land for years. Sean and Mary Kate are soon in love, but Will stubbornly refuses to consent to the marriage. Local drunk and matchmaker Michaleen (Barry Fitzgerald), sympathising with the two lovers, hatches a plan with the other locals to manipulate Will into thinking the marriage is in his best interests, and they are soon wed. But when Will uncovers the plot and tries to sabotage the marriage, Sean must face the demons of his past and confront the bullying tyrant.

Winner of 2 Academy Awards and nominated for 5 more, The Quiet Man was a roaring success and is loved by many to this day, but was undoubtedly a massive gamble by Ford. People paid to see John Wayne punch bad guys and get the girl, but this was a film about a man who makes an active decision not to fight and, although he gets the girl early on, he struggles to keep a hold of her. Funnily enough, this is one of Wayne's best performances, a rare opportunity to see his warmer, gentler side, and his interaction with O'Hara, who is also terrific, is one of the movie's main strengths. The slow pace pays off at the end, climaxing with one of the best fist-fights in cinema. It's played mainly for laughs and no one draws blood, but the absurdity and the sheer length of it is a hoot. Perfect for a lazy Sunday afternoon.


Directed by: John Ford
Starring: John Wayne, Maureen O'Hara, Barry Fitzgerald, Victor McLaglen, Ward Bond
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie