IN: Review: MABEL AT THE WHEEL is one of those movies with a behind-the-scenes story that's more interesting than the movie itself. This was Chaplin's tenth comedy for Keystone during his year of apprenticeship, and his first two-reeler. Here he played one of his last out-and-out villain roles (although the feature-length TILLIE'S PUNCTURED ROMANCE was yet to come), and it also marked one of the last times he would work for a director other than himself. In fact, Chaplin's conflicts with director and co-star Mabel Normand almost got him fired from the studio.

Chaplin hadn't gotten along with his earlier directors, Henry Lehrman and George Nichols, but according to his autobiography having to take direction from a mere "girl" was the last straw. Charlie and Mabel argued bitterly during the making of this film. Chaplin was still a newcomer at Keystone and his colleagues didn't know what to make of him, but everyone loved Mabel. Producer Mack Sennett was on the verge of firing Chaplin when he learned that the newcomer's films were catching on and exhibitors wanted more of them A.S.A.P., so Chaplin was promised the chance to direct himself in return for finishing this movie the way Mabel wanted it.

Unfortunately, none of that drama is visible on screen in MABEL AT THE WHEEL, which looks like typical Keystone chaos. The story concerns an auto race in which Mabel's beau (Harry McCoy) is scheduled to compete, but wicked Charlie and his henchmen abduct the lad, and Mabel must take the wheel in his place. For all the racing around, brick hurling and finger-biting the film is frankly short on laughs, but there are a few points of interest. There's some good cinematography and editing in the race sequence, though there aren't really any gags, just lots of frantic activity. Chaplin himself looks odd, sporting a goat-like beard on his chin and wearing the top hat and frock coat he wore in his very first film appearance, MAKING A LIVING, but the outfit suits the old-fashioned villainy he displays throughout. At least it's novel to watch him play such an uncharacteristic role. Visible in the stands at the race track are such Keystone stalwarts as Chester Conklin, Edgar Kennedy in a strangely dandified get-up, and a more characteristic Mack Sennett, spitting tobacco and doing his usual mindless rube routine. As a performer, Sennett was about as subtle as the movies he produced, but you have to give the guy credit: he knew what people liked. These films were hugely popular in their day. Mack's performance doesn't add much to MABEL AT THE WHEEL, but he probably had to be on hand for the filming of this one to make sure his stars didn't kill each other.
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IN: Review: I found it very very difficulty to watch this after the initial 5 minutes of the film. I managed to stomach 45-50 minutes before switching it off in disgust and watching Monster House instead (which, by the way, is great fun).

The story has massive holes in it. The plot line is hugely over stated and dull, the acting is awful, especially from Justin TImberlake who should really stick to what he is good at (looking daft and singing like a castrato). Morgan Freeman looked incredibly uncomfortable, especially when made to dance around to rock music for no apparent reason half way through the film after him and Timberlake meet. Freeman and Timberlake's characters seem to be supposed to have some sort of father/son relationship of sorts or something, which simply isn't evident at all apart from the fact that; though Freeman's character seems to have nothing but contempt for the ignorant and rather stupid character of Timberlake, he never the less pulls out all the stops to help him uncover a completely ridiculous cover up.

It would take some incredible suspension of disbelief to give any credit to the story line, which is simply absurd and blown out of all proportion.

Don't watch this film, it is a pure waste of time.
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IN: Review: ... This isn't the first time Stanley blurred the distinction between genres to such great effect, either. In Dr. Strangelove you had a comedy about a horrific situation, and here the basis is a terrifying scenario which actually yields some very funny moments. Slow-burning madness and attempting to kill one's family isn't hilarious of course, but the dialogue is very knowing ("five months of peace is just what I want... ") and there is a terrific drinking scene which would be riotous if you included just one type of spirit, but is spine-chilling when you factor in the other.

I disagree with those who say that the hotel has a negligible effect on Jack Torrance in the filmed version. The cues Nicholson provides the audience as an actor merely hint at the potential for madness, which is only reinforced when we learn that the head of the family has struggled with alcoholism and is emotionally distant from his wife and son. The environment that he is in, however, then absorbs those personality defects and unleashes them upon his consciousness. In much the same way as buildings are sometimes thought to soak up events that happen there, the hotel feeds on the frailties of a troubled but sane man, and uses his weaknesses against him to eventually take him beyond the point of no return. He may have dormant flaws in his personality before he arrives, but to me the Overlook itself is the trigger that sets them off.

Kubrick's cold and detached approach to directing works splendidly for a chilly horror film, and the unpredictable force of nature that is Jack Nicholson teeters all the time between making you giggle and scaring the wits out of you. When he explodes, you won't be sure how far he can go. Together they made a great team and with a blend of their talents gave us a classic. If you want a great viewing experience, then this is an example that well and truly shines...
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OUT: positive

IN: Review: The wife of a stage producer in London hopes to fix up the American song-and-dance man starring in her husband's latest show with an acquaintance, an American girl who makes her living modeling fashions in society circles. Unfortunately, the couple has already met on their own, with the girl thinking the guy is actually the show producer married to her friend (the fact he's not wearing a wedding ring should have discouraged any misunderstandings!). Wafty Fred Astaire-Ginger Rogers musical is eventually dragged back down to the earth by Dwight Taylor and Allan Scott's idiotic script, which is full of juvenile behavior. Astaire and Rogers don't just 'meet cute'--they meet ridiculously (he's tap-dancing like a madman in the hotel suite above hers and she complains). Audiences of 1935 probably didn't care how these two were going to get together--as long as they did so, and happily. Seen today, the central characters appear to have no motivation to end up in each other's arms: he plies her with flowers (after telling his friend he wants to remain "fancy free" in the love department) and she gives him the brush-off. Nothing that a little dancing couldn't cure! This glamorous twosome are as deliberately unreal as are the London and Venice settings, but we watch simply because the leads are Fred and Ginger. It's a fantasy for have-nots...ones who don't mind the dumbed-down plot. The musical moments do break up the monotony of the contrived scenario, yet fail to transcend the surrounding silliness. ** from ****
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negative