Film poster for Flesh and the Devil (1926); directed by Clarence Brown.
Principal Cast
John Gilbert as Leo von Harden
Greta Garbo as Felicitas von Rhaden
Lars Hanson as Ulrich von Eltz
Barbara Kent as Hertha
Review
This was even better the second time. Greta Garbo plays Felicitas von Rhaden, a countess who basically interrupts the latent homosexual ersatz marriage between best friends Leo (John Gilbert) and Ulrich (Lars Hanson). They come so close to kissing so many times on screen that you’re practically clawing at the screen to make them take that leap. As I saw someone else on Letterboxd say in their review, only Greta Garbo could convince two gay men that they’re “temporarily heterosexual”.
The yearning.Just smooch already.
I mean, just read this pledge they make to each other on their secret island of friendship (which is an actual island) as children and tell me it doesn’t at least vaguely resemble wedding vows:
“By this rite of blood we are united…in riches and in poverty…in love and in sorrow…in life and in death…..”
*plays Wedding March*
Ulrich’s sister Hertha (Barbara Kent) is even standing between them while they make this blood oath as a sort of officiant. The DVD copy I borrowed from the library which included Flesh and the Devil as part of TCM Archives: The Garbo Silents Collection had an alternate ending which is way more heterosexual than the original one. It interrupts a gorgeous bucolic scene (post-original ending) of Leo and Ulrich enjoying an afternoon of blissful domesticity out on the lawn by having Hertha (Kent) declare she’s moving to Munich and Leo follows after her and they decide to get together. She had spent most of the film pining after him while he was having bisexual fits over Felicitas (Garbo) and Ulrich.
What an unnecessary coda. If they had ended the alternate ending with Leo (Gilbert) and Ulrich (Hanson) simply enjoying each other’s company out on the lawn without having to inject it with forced heterosexuality it would have been so beautiful. Why can’t we have nice things? Talk about having a lifestyle shoved down your throat.
P.S. I would love to know the specific dark lipstick they had on Ulrich for the majority of the film because I think it at least partially inspired Taylor Swift’s reputation album.
Film poster for Kansas City Princess (1934); directed by William Keighley.
Review
Any pairing of Joan Blondell and Glenda Farrell is a wonder to behold, even when the plot is a bit too contrived and there’s not enough screen time to make all the loose threads coming together believable. Blondell and Farrell play manicurists Rosie (Blondell) and Marie (Farrell) who are also roommates. Rosie’s boyfriend is a tough guy gangster named Dynamite Carson (Robert Armstrong). Marie doesn’t like him at all, so she talks Rosie into going to dinner with a customer who, unbeknownst to them, is an associate of Dynamite’s.
Joan Blondell as Rosie Sturges in Kansas City Princess. Image subject to copyright.
He finds out, of course, and vows revenge, so the girls hightail it out of town by posing as members of a girl’s group that looks like the Girl Scouts. They then finagle their way into the good graces of two businessmen who they swindle into paying for their tickets to Paris and clothes for the journey too. Hijinks ensue, especially after Dynamite catches up with them. It’s all very low stakes despite the threat of murder (which isn’t believable at all — Robert Armstrong’s Dynamite looks more likely to flip you off in traffic than actually initiate a physical altercation), so you’re not going to be on the edge of your seat or anything.
Glenda Farrell as Marie Callahan in Kansas City Princess. Image subject to copyright.
All in all, I enjoyed it. When I see those two on screen, I know I’m going to be entertained and that’s all that matters to me.
Kansas City Princessis streaming on Watch TCM through April 26th and is also available to own on DVD through the Warner Archive Collection.
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Film poster for Sinners (2025); directed by Ryan Coogler.
Well, it’s official: Sinners now holds the record for having the most Oscar nominations for a single film in the Academy’s history with 16 nominations. Ryan Coogler’s (put some RESPECT on his name) film beats the previous record of 14 nominations held by three films: All About Eve (1950), Titanic (1997), and La La Land (2016). Out of those three films, only one of them (La La Land) didn’t win Best Picture. I know everyone is going wild over Paul Thomas Anderson’s One Battle After Another right now and it’s the favorite to win Best Picture, but I’m rooting for Sinners.
Here are the categories in which Sinners is nominated:
Best Picture (Zinzi Coogler, Sev Ohanian and Ryan Coogler)
Directing (Ryan Coogler)
Actor in a Leading Role (Michael B. Jordan)
Cinematography (Autumn Durald Arkapaw)
Visual Effects (Michael Ralla, Espen Nordahl, Guido Wolter and Donnie Dean)
Sound (Chris Welcker, Benjamin A. Burtt, Felipe Pacheco, Brandon Proctor and Steve Boeddeker
Film Editing (Michael P. Shawver)
Production Design (Production Design: Hannah Beachler; Set Decoration: Monique Champagne)
Original Song (“I Lied to You”, Music and Lyric by Raphael Saadiq and Ludwig Goransson)
Costume Design (Ruth E. Carter)
Casting (Francine Maisler)
Actor in a Supporting Role (Delroy Lindo)
Original Screenplay (Ryan Coogler)
Original Score (Ludwig Goransson)
Makeup and Hairstyling (Ken Diaz, Mike Fontaine and Shunika Terry)
Actress in a Supporting Role (Wunmi Mosaku)
Sinners was my favorite film of 2025 from the moment I first saw it. I’ve watched it at least seven times now, and it only gets better with each viewing. I was worried that Delroy Lindo and Wunmi Mosaku might get shut out of their respective categories, but I’m happy to see that the Academy got it right. Mr. Lindo is 73 years old and this is his first Oscar nomination. That in itself is a travesty. That man has been turning in excellent performances for decades, and it is way past time for him to receive the accolades due him.
Sinners is now streaming on HBO Max and is available to own on DVD, Blu-ray, and 4K UHD.
Delroy Lindo as Delta Slim in Sinners. Credit: Warner Bros.
All I know is he’s got my vote. #TeamLindo
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Film poster for Nora Prentiss(1947); directed by Vincent Sherman.
Rarely am I gobsmacked by a film, but Nora Prentissfully smacked my gob. The premise, if not executed as well as it was, reads a trifle ridiculous. A man convicted of his own murder — preposterous, right? Not if all the stars in the universe align at precisely the same time to screw you.
This film wouldn’t have worked if the femme fatale had been a slinky seductress, or the male lead an irredeemable womanizer. No, this is simply a tale of the wrong people falling hopelessly in love with one another when circumstances prevent them from being able to honor that love in a way that doesn’t hurt them both, with other people’s lives as collateral damage.
James Wong Howe’s cinematography and Franz Waxman’s score are both perfect complements to this dark tale of what happens when good people give in to their worst impulses and get in too deep too quickly to escape the pull of oblivion.
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Film poster for The Hitch-Hiker (1953); directed by Ida Lupino.
In his intro or outro to this film (I can’t remember which now) on Noir Alley, Eddie Muller made the comment that it’s been said that only a woman could make a film like this at the time. I think that’s true because I think that women, despite being on the outside of the male psyche, are still the main recipient of the consequences of the decisions made by men.
Only a woman could capture the fragility behind the brand of toxic masculinity displayed by men like Emmett Myers (William Talman). It’s a masculinity that is by its very nature deeply insecure, pathologically violent, and needing constant reaffirmation of its potency. That’s why men like Myers feel the need to dominate women and (lesser, beta) men, to bring them under subjugation. It’s why rape culture exists. It’s why they ascribe characteristics of femininity to men who they read as queer or who they perceive aren’t as strong or masculine as they are. It’s a masculinity that cannot be opposed without the threat of violence, because it does not recognize consent, autonomy, or personal sovereignty, only brute force.
I would argue that this kind of masculinity is an epidemic, as serious and as deadly as any communicable disease or illness. When men like this are imbued with power of any kind, that power is abused to assuage their egos, to confirm to them their superior status. Give a man like that the nuclear codes and access to an arsenal of weapons the likes of which the world has never seen and the world holds it breath.
Based on the real-life case of Billy Cook, a hitchhiking serial killer who murdered six people, including a vacationing family of five between 1950-1951, The Hitch-Hiker follows two friends, Roy Collins (Edmond O’Brien) and Gilbert Bowen (Frank Lovejoy), who pick up a hitchhiker named Emmett Myers (William Talman) who’s recently escaped from prison. What started for them as a nice fishing trip becomes a nightmare experience that you think will never happen to you until it does.
Myers (Talman) wastes no time in pulling his gun on them and calling the shots. They drive him through the Baja California desert to Santa Rosalía, Baja California Sur, where his aim is to evade law enforcement by ferrying across the Gulf of California to Guaymas. He plays sick and sadistic mind games with them, one time making one of them shoot a tin can out of the other’s hand for sport. He takes every opportunity that presents itself to emasculate them and establish his own dominance.
This film had a profound effect on me. Props to Ida Lupino for being able to identify and articulate something that politicians and policymakers still struggle with. Edmond O’Brien, Frank Lovejoy, and William Talman all give career-defining performances here. The cinematography by Nicholas Musuraca is especially good, also among his best. The desert scenes were the best in the film. I thought I recognized the location, and Eddie Muller mentioned that it was used in other films, including High Sierra with Humphrey Bogart and Ida Lupino (cool, huh?).
The Hitch-Hiker was selected for preservation in 1998 by the United States National Film Registry. It has only grown in estimation since its release and remains an exemplar of film noir. Ida Lupino blew open the door for women filmmakers and gave them a blueprint to follow in a profession that is still (in 2026) gate-kept and dominated by men.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Cinephile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. Keep watching the world, one frame at a time.
Film poster for Wicked: For Good (2025); directed by Jon M. Chu.
Don’t believe any of the negative reviews you read about Wicked: For Good. Self-referential and absolutely thrillifying, each part in this sequel sings in harmony. Even being intimately familiar with all of the major plot points that play out didn’t dull the sensation of seeing everything unfold on the big screen.
Self-referential and absolutely thrillifying, each part in this sequel sings in harmony.
Cynthia Erivo as Elphaba Thropp and Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero Tigelaar.
If Wicked saw Elphaba shine, Wicked: For Good sees Glinda shine just as bright. Ariana Grande is a master at playing equal parts comical and tragic, often in the same scene. Make no mistake, what she accomplishes here is far from easy, although she makes it appear to be. Like so many of us are so much of the time, Glinda finds herself trapped between doing what is good versus doing what is convenient; the choices she makes are sometimes sacrificial and sometimes self-aggrandizing. And they have far-reaching ramifications not only for her relationship with Elphaba, but for the future of Oz itself.
Like so many of us are so much of the time, Glinda finds herself trapped between doing what is good versus doing what is convenient
Ariana Grande as Glinda Upland.
Some of the questions asked by this sequel are more important than the answers. What does it mean to be good, or wicked? And at what point do we cross that line? How much of ourselves must we give away to maintain our identity, our innate sense of self? How do we hold space for nuance in the face of evil — and more importantly, should we?
What does it mean to be good, or wicked? And at what point do we cross that line?
Marissa Bode as Nessarose Thropp.
I also thought a lot during this film about what Hannah Arendt called the “banality of evil”, and how truly horrific acts are committed by people who believe they are just upholding order and the status quo. They make their own morality a question of bureaucratic efficiency. That is, if the cost of doing good exceeds the price they’re willing to pay, no atrocity is too great to be complicit therewith. The lesson, if one could call it that, is this: Some people need to be seen as wicked so that other people can be seen as good. All of us probably land somewhere in the middle.
That is, if the cost of doing good exceeds the price they’re willing to pay, no atrocity is too great to be complicit therewith.
Wicked: For Good is now playing in theaters on a screen near you.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The VoraciousCinephile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. Keep watching the world, one frame at a time.
Film poster for Frankenstein (2025); directed by Guillermo del Toro.
In an age when studio heads are looking to slash costs and shorten production schedules by investing in generative AI, Guillermo del Toro’s commitment to traditional film craft cannot be a bigger breath of fresh air. Everything about this film is grounded, gorgeous, and most importantly, genuine. A work of art of this caliber could not be created by an artificially intelligent supercomputer. Computers do not have souls, the wellsprings from which all art is brought forth. Because of this, I would be remiss not to acknowledge what a labor of love Frankenstein obviously was for everyone involved. From the principal cast, to Guillermo del Toro (who wrote, directed, and produced the film), and the incredible cinematographer (Dan Laustsen), costume designer (Kate Hawley), and composer (Alexandre Desplat), everyone who worked on this film did this work like it was the most important of their lives. And perhaps it was.
Everything about this film is grounded, gorgeous, and most importantly, genuine.
Curiously enough, Frankenstein is a timely and apt canvas upon which to analyze the moral dilemmas and questions of both Victor Frankenstein and the culture of our present day. Guillermo del Toro’s filmmaking ethos (the Oscar-winning director recently said he’d “rather die” than use AI in his films) is a scathing indictment of people like Victor Frankenstein (Oscar Isaac). The Creature (Jacob Elordi) is assembled and brought to life by Frankenstein from disparate, stolen parts. Frankenstein can, however, no more claim authorship or ownership of The Creature than the people who “create” AI content from stolen books, films, and other works of art. In The Creature as well as in the works “created” by AI, the theft is so profligate and egregious that one cannot begin to cipher what was taken from whom. Artifice becomes the only truth, and everything else is plunder.
Artifice becomes the only truth, and everything else is plunder.
Frankenstein is the film del Toro has wanted to make since he was 7 years old and first saw the James Whale Frankenstein films, and his vision of the classic story was made for this moment. If it had come any sooner or later than right now, it would be deprived of its enormity and heft. Thank God it languished in production hell for years because the stars aligned when they were supposed to and not a second before. The implications it elucidates for the discerning viewer should fill anyone with not just fear, but mortal terror. Whether it be usurping God or playing with (stolen) fire (Prometheus, anyone?), the end result is the same: destruction.
The implications it [Frankenstein] elucidates for the discerning viewer should fill anyone with not just fear, but mortal terror.
I want to talk for a second about Jacob Elordi’s performance in this film. It moved me to tears. He brought to full power the unrealized humanity behind Karloff’s Frankenstein’s monster, and that is not a negative comment on Karloff’s portrayal. The world was not perhaps ready for a Creature both human and not, both living and not. It may still not be, but Elordi infuses his Creature with as much soul as has ever been seen on celluloid. The sheer physicality the role required would be too much for most actors, but Elordi brought a dedication to the performance that’s nothing short of mind-boggling. It took as much as eleven hours each day just to transform him into The Creature, so he often worked twenty-hour days during filming. His boundless energy and startling gravitas transform a role that easily could have veered into parody or caricature into one of sublime transcendence and beauty. Give him all of his flowers.
His [Elordi’s] boundless energy and startling gravitas transform a role that easily could have veered into parody or caricature into one of sublime transcendence and beauty.
Kate Hawley’s costumes for this film are also beyond breathtaking, especially the ones she designed for Mia Goth. The TikTok video I’m linking to below goes into the costume design in more depth:
Courtesy of @Sarahpop on TikTok. Images from the film are the property of Netflix.
Frankensteinis now available to stream exclusively on Netflix, but you bet your sweet behind my fingers are crossed for a physical release of some kind, preferably from the Criterion Collection.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The VoraciousCinephile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. Keep watching the world, one frame at a time.
Criterion Collection edition of Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (1975); directed by Chantal Akerman.
A less astute viewer might get ten minutes into Jeanne Dielman and decide that it’s too boring to make the effort. Personally, I have no patience for this kind of viewer. People with an over-reliance on plot and dialogue have no imagination. They fail to see beyond the noise.
One of the most brilliant aspects of this film is the fact that the viewer isn’t just invited, but coerced, into participating in Jeanne’s slow unraveling. Everything Jeanne does, every single day, is performed with precision and militaristic attention to detail. She is meticulous, structured. Even the johns who patronize her arrive on a schedule, telling her when they’ll return.
Each frame is a painting, a still life unto itself. Her routinized existence becomes your only reality while watching, and you are therefore highly aware of the deviations that begin to appear: a missed button on a housecoat; potatoes cooked too long; the staccato bursts of forgetfulness, wherein Jeanne goes to perform one of her perfunctory tasks and loses herself in what she was doing. These things would mean nothing in a film with more noise, with a character we didn’t know as well. By the time these disruptions begin and the cracks in the facade become apparent, we know Jeanne very well. Perhaps better than she knows herself, if we may be so bold. And so comes the unraveling.
Each frame is a painting, a still life unto itself.
It’s deeply unsettling, and an actress with less talent wouldn’t be able to pull off what Seyrig does here. There are probably fewer than five pages of dialogue in the entire three-plus hour runtime, so her entire performance is one of intense interiority, an almost unfathomable becoming.
If you’ve tried to watch this film in the past and not been able to make it through it, I implore you to give it another shot. Wake up really early in the morning with nothing else on your schedule, no tasks or chores to distract you. Ensure your notifications are turned off, better yet put your phone on silent in another room. Immerse yourself in this intense exercise of concentrated empathy, and I dare you to remain unchanged.
There are probably fewer than five pages of dialogue in the entire three-plus hour runtime, so her entire performance is one of intense interiority, an almost unfathomable becoming.
Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles is available to buy from the Criterion Collection wherever their films are available. It is also available to stream on The Criterion Channel here.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The VoraciousCinephile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. Keep watching the world, one frame at a time.
You are reading the first blog post from The Voracious Cinephile, the second blog in the Voracious family. I have toyed with the idea of having two completely separate blogs, but for now I think I’ll just post my film-related blogs with the above logo to differentiate them from those written for The Voracious Bibliophile.
Film poster for The Left Handed Gun (1958); directed by Arthur Penn.
Review
The Left Handed Gun was the first directorial effort of Arthur Penn, who would become famous for ushering in the New Hollywood movement with Bonnie and Clyde (1967). It was also only the seventh film featuring screen siren and Hollywood heartthrob Paul Newman, just a few months before he would receive rave reviews for the role of “Brick” Pollitt in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.
Newman plays William Bonney, more famously known as Billy the Kid. I didn’t know this before watching this film, but William Bonney was also an alias of Billy the Kid’s. His birth name was Henry McCarty, and he lives on in infamy due to his part in New Mexico’s Lincoln County War, which you can read more about here.
Paul Newman as Billy the Kid in The Left Handed Gun.
While lacking in the pomp and circumstance surrounding bigger-budget Western fare of the era, The Left Handed Gun still stands above the serialized radio and television Western shows released in the late 50s. This is due in no small part to the excellent performances given by Newman and John Dehner, who imbues the role of Pat Garrett with a rugged stoicism that pairs well with Newman’s brash and sensitive Kid. It’s my opinion that only Newman could have pulled off a Billy the Kid who is so tender, yet ultimately too caught up in his own violent passion for revenge to let his softer nature win. So who cares if he was too old for the role? If we allow ourselves to get overly legalistic in our desire for realism, the magic of the cinema loses its potency. For me, of course, the same sentiment doesn’t apply to George Cukor’s 1936 adaptation of Romeo and Juliet with Norma Shearer and Leslie Howard, but that’s a matter for another blog post.
John Dehner as Pat Garrett in The Left Handed Gun.
The Left Handed Gun may have been a box office bomb in the United States, but the Belgians were a lot more discerning and appreciative of the film, awarding it with the 1961 Grand Prix of the Belgian Film Critics Association. Other winners of the prize include such classics as 12 Angry Men, Dr. Strangelove, and Cabaret.
While I of course always recommend owning physical media, you can stream The Left Handed Gun on HBO Max.
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Film poster for Cool Hand Luke (1967); directed by Stuart Rosenberg.
“What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.”
Captain (Strother Martin)
It might just be me, but this saga of a man named Luke (Paul Newman), crushed but not deterred under the weight of a system designed to deprive him of his body, mind, and soul, is the perfect metaphor for late-stage capitalism and rising fascism in 2025. The circumstances are somewhat different, but still startlingly relevant as it concerns the prison industrial complex, police brutality, and slavery. Some people might call that last one a stretch, but what are prisons if not legal warehouses of forced labor and deprivation of liberty? If your labor creates economic value for someone who isn’t you or your family and you aren’t allowed to leave, are you not a slave?
I mean, let’s be serious for a moment. Luke was a nonviolent offender sentenced to two years of extremely hard labor in deplorable conditions for destroying some parking meters and stealing the change out of them. And the captain and guards are given free rein to treat the incarcerated men however they see fit, up to and including executing them for trying to escape said conditions. They can even manufacture circumstances ex post facto to justify actions they take in the moment. There are no oversight or accountability mechanisms in place to discourage their violent conduct. One wonders if the wrong people are deprived of their freedom.
The captain and guards are soldiers in the war of the death of these men’s souls. These violent men (the guards, not the inmates) derive pleasure from and revel in the control they wield over every move the inmates make. It’s sickening and morally reprehensible, but very realistic and apt, even and especially in 2025.
The captain and guards are soldiers in the war of the death of these men’s souls.
There’s one particularly striking moment in the film where Luke’s mother (Jo Van Fleet) passes away and news of her passing reaches Luke. Rather than let him go and pay his respects to her, they lock him in a wooden shed called The Box, sentencing him to solitary confinement for no reason other than to deter his escape. Let it be noted that up until this point he had given no indication of a desire to escape.
This hot, enclosed shed is dark, dank, and reeking of shit and piss. Right before one of the guards (or bosses, as the inmates refer to them) locks him up in The Box, he says, “Sorry, Luke. I’m just doing my job. You gotta appreciate that.” And Luke responds, “Nah – calling it your job don’t make it right, boss.”
“Nah – calling it your job don’t make it right, boss.”
Luke (Newman)
That moment hit me like lightning. So many horrific acts of cruelty have been committed by people “just doing their jobs”. Slave catchers were just doing their jobs. The cops who arrested Rosa Parks were just doing their jobs. The SS were just doing their jobs. The same for ICE agents and Republican lawmakers who craft the law in favor of the rich and powerful and punish the poor for the sin of being poor. They’re all just doing their jobs.
One must have a moral compass, a sense of duty and responsibility to common humanity that transcends legality, convention, and organized religion. I included that last one because so many people use religion (mostly Christianity, in the context of the United States) as a pretext for depriving others of their rights and freedoms. Their moral superiority obfuscates the actual dictates of their prescribed beliefs and therefore gives them a license to ignore those dictates in favor of advancing an agenda of their own creation. They worship power, and reap desolation.
One must have a moral compass, a sense of duty and responsibility to common humanity that transcends legality, convention, and organized religion.
Paul Newman as Luke.
They worship power, and reap desolation.
Strother Martin as Captain.
The only way to beat the system, to stick it to The Man, is to keep a part of yourself that can’t be touched or corrupted by evil men. They can take your body, but they can’t touch your soul. Just like Luke.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.
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