Geraldine Fitzgerald

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Picture - Max Baker and Geraldine Fitzgerald Opening night of the Broadway production of 'The House Of Blue Leaves' at the Walter Kerr Theatre - Arrivals. New York City, USA, Monday 25th April 2011

Max Baker and Geraldine Fitzgerald Monday 25th April 2011 Max Baker and Geraldine Fitzgerald Opening night of the Broadway production of 'The House Of Blue Leaves' at the Walter Kerr Theatre - Arrivals. New York City, USA

Dark Victory Review


Weak
You know you're in trouble when such a classically tooled and sculpted weepie as 1939's Dark Victory - one that should require boxes of Kleenex and a couple hours of recuperation - doesn't even begin to wring out a tear until near the final act. What happens when a three-hankie picture just isn't that sad? You get Dark Victory.

The story is the sort of thing that could fuel a whole season or two of one of your better primetime soap operas: Idly wealthy Judith Traherne (Davis) is 23, single, and bereft of any cares besides what trainer to hire for her thoroughbred horses and exactly how many martinis to drink. Having complained of sight problems and headaches, Judith gets browbeaten into seeing Dr. Frederick Steele (George Brent), a renowned brain surgeon about two hours away from chucking his whole practice to go do medical research on his isolated Vermont farm. Steele takes about five minutes to figure out that Judith has a rare and extremely serious condition that needs to be operated on right away. After the operation, Steele tells Judith's friend Ann King (Geraldine Fitzgerald) that Judith will feel fine for a while, but in about ten months, her vision will start to go again and then she'll die, quite suddenly and painlessly. The two then do what any sensible people would: agree to keep the truth from Judith while arranging for her to marry Steele, whom she's fallen in love with.

Continue reading: Dark Victory Review

Arthur Review


Good
It's the movie we'll forever know Dudley Moore for -- and the late John Gielgud, too, who is put out to pasture about halfway through this classic comedy. "Classic" doesn't necessarily mean "fabulous" in this case, however -- Arthur is little more than a glamorization of an otherwise no-account, good-for-nothing, stinking-rich drunk. Moore is hardly a role model, and his tale of "I love a poor girl" is so sappy one questions how Arthur ever became a hit. Two words: John Gielgud, who shines in what could have been the embarassment of his life. Party on, John.

The Pawnbroker Review


Excellent
Sidney Lumet's direction is not the highlight of The Pawnbroker -- it can be heavy-handed and self-conscious at times -- but Rod Steiger's searing portrayal of a freed Holocaust victim trying to make a living as a pawnbroker in Harlem is unforgettable. Steiger's Method acting is dead-on, offering up a character so wracked by the past that he's barely functional in the present: So he places the love of money over all else in his life. Lumet's use of awkward flashbacks to the concentration camps, actually hinders the storytelling rather than help it.
Geraldine Fitzgerald

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