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Post by topbilled on Oct 27, 2023 21:11:19 GMT
Because you mentioned the comic relief couple, what was the first western to use a comic relief character as one of the major story lines. And why did the concept develop to the point that on Roy Rogers tv show, Gabby Hayes always had a significant part of the show. Marshall Dillion needed rather silly deputies, Festus particularly annoying. I don't care for westerns with comic relief characters. I like westerns that are also comedies, but the Kennedy/Kelly type of story thread I could live without. I think the writers who used comedic lesser stories in westerns seemed to not have enough story to make a film and needed to add filler. I must be something of a purist about westerns.
In the case of Gunsmoke I read somewhere that Dennis Weaver's character Chester was given a limp, so that he would be subordinate to Marshal Dillon...if he was as athletic and able to chase after the outlaws like Matt Dillon, then he'd be working somewhere else as the marshal of his own town. |
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Post by kims on Oct 29, 2023 0:20:31 GMT
Chester with a limp, for me, meant he couldn't chase a bad guy and I wonder how happy the citizens would be paying for a lawman who couldn't effectively do the job. In some interview, Dennis Weaver told he wanted the limp-regular Hollywood story: whose idea was it anyway?
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Post by topbilled on Oct 29, 2023 0:23:37 GMT
Chester with a limp, for me, meant he couldn't chase a bad guy and I wonder how happy the citizens would be paying for a lawman who couldn't effectively do the job. In some interview, Dennis Weaver told he wanted the limp-regular Hollywood story: whose idea was it anyway?
Incidentally, Gunsmoke was filmed at the old Republic studio. Gilligan's Island was also filmed there. Republic Pictures ceased production in 1959, so all those sound stages and the back lot were used for television productions in the 1960s and 1970s. |
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Post by topbilled on Nov 17, 2023 15:18:20 GMT
This neglected film is from 1948.
An important anti-abortion film..?
When I watched the classic Republic Pictures film I JANE DOE, a scene between a female lawyer and her female client caught my attention:
LAWYER: Why didn’t you tell them you were going to have a baby? It might have made a difference in the verdict.
CLIENT: I didn’t tell because I didn’t want it to be born.
LAWYER: But you realize you might have taken that baby to the electric chair with you?
CLIENT: Yes.
LAWYER: Why would you want to kill him? It was your crime, not his. He has a right to live just as he had a right to be born.
The dialogue seems anti-abortion in nature. Interestingly, the script was written in the late 1940s by a woman and a man, and it presents a conservative view of feminism. Not the radical left feminism that has since become popular.
The exchange occurs after the title character (Vera Ralston) has been found guilty of murder. Her execution has been postponed, because of pregnancy. The state will not allow an unborn child to be put to death. Ralston’s character is still in prison. There is no get out of jail free card being played.
In the next part of the story the lawyer, played by Ruth Hussey, fights to have Ralston’s case retried on appeal. Prosecuting attorneys (John Howard and Gene Lockhart) make strong arguments to the jury that they should not have sympathy for Ralston since she did in fact murder the father of the baby.
With Hussey’s help, Ralston gets off and is cleared of the murder charge.
What makes this film interesting is that we have a woman in peril represented by a career woman whose job comes at the cost of marriage and domestic tranquility. The twist is that Ralston and Hussey were both married to the same man (John Carroll).
As I watched the film, the scene I quoted really stood out to me…because the screenwriters are using the basic scenario to bolster the point of view that a child should still be born despite the murky circumstances of its conception. Later there’s another twist involving the baby.
I think this is a film people should watch and judge for themselves. It has morally gray areas.
A lot of men had come home from the war, hiding the fact that they’d been with other women abroad. In this story, the man had become a bigamist and was found out. The filmmakers do not fully demonize him. Instead they turn his quandary into a morality tale to preserve the sanctity of the American home.
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Post by Fading Fast on Nov 17, 2023 15:54:47 GMT
I, Jane Doe from 1948 with Ruth Hussey, Vera Ralston, John Carroll and Benay Venuta
Very few movies, even "realistic" dramas, are an accurate portrayal of life. It's hard to make an engaging movie with an absolutely realistic story and characters, as all the nuances of life and human nature do not fit neatly into a hour-plus-long narrative. Some, like I, Jane Doe, acknowledge this reality by letting the melodrama rip.
With a touch of noir, this full-throttle soap opera, which includes an early feminist angle, covers a pre-WWII two-income marriage, a wartime affair, bigamy, immigration, deportation, murder, two trials and a surrogate adoption debate. Phew.
It's a lot to unpack, especially as the movie opens with a woman, played by Vera Ralston, on trial for murder who refuses to say a single word about herself or in her defense, so she becomes known as "Jane Doe."
It's an intriguing opening that leads to much of the story being told through flashbacks where we learn that Ralston, a French woman, married a downed American pilot, played by John Carroll, she rescued during WWII.
When he leaves to go home after the war, he promises to "bring her over later." When he doesn't, she shows up on her own, discovers he's already married and shoots him. That's why she's on trial for murder.
We also learn through flashbacks that Carroll's first marriage was from before the war and was to a hot-shot attorney played by Ruth Hussey. Hussey, as always, delivers an engaging and spirited performance, here, playing the "second" female lead.
Even before the war, Hussy's best friend, played by Benay Venuta in the "Eve Arden" role, questions Hussey's "perfect" marriage to Carroll. Venuta is suspicious of him and also doubts whether a woman can have both a career and marriage.
Hussey, conversely, believes she can have it all and argues, not perfectly by today's unforgiving political-piety standards, but impressively for 1948, that a woman can be a wife, a mother and have a fulfilling career. Exogenous events muddle her message later.
To tell more would take away several jaw-dropping "Oh!" moments in the drama/soap opera at the core of I, Jane Doe, as a lot of not particularly believable, but quite "shocking" things happen in a movie made under the Motion Picture Production Code.
Hussey, once again, shows that she had all the skills and charisma to be a leading lady, despite a career that, as in this movie, mainly had her in the friend-of-the-lead or the girl-who-didn't-get-the-guy role.
Carroll is excellent as the charming flyboy who proves to be frighteningly nasty when caught in his web of lies.
This movie, though, seems like it was reverse engineered for Vera Ralston's sleepy acting style as she's asked to be almost comatose for a good chunk of it.
It also fit her to be playing a confused foreigner in America as she always looks vaguely confused. But to be fair, intentionally tailored for her or not, the role fits her like a glove leading to Ralston giving an engaging performance.
Today's cultural warriors machine-gun down anyone not adhering strictly to the often shifting "accepted" view of this or that social/political issue making every "old" movie problematic if you abide by their virulent standards.
In its own way, though, I, Jane Doe, discusses and, overall, supports feminist viewpoints on work and marriage that, at minimum, show these ideas were percolating decades before breaking out fully into the open in the late 1960s/1970s.
If you are looking for realism, I, Jane Doe is not the movie to choose, but for a post-war melodrama with absolutely no shame, it's a fun romp through war, bigamy, deportation, a murder, two trials and a surprisingly forward-looking view on several social issues. |
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Post by topbilled on Nov 28, 2023 14:53:09 GMT
This neglected film is from 1950.
Exciting Republic western
The story begins with a heart-pounding sequence. Adele Mara plays a European immigrant traveling to California with her youngest brother (Peter Miles), when they are separated from the rest of their wagon train and ambushed by natives. Fortunately, they are aided by a man (Forrest Tucker) riding the range. He prevents the boy from being sliced open by a hatchet-wielding savage, for which the woman is entirely grateful.
Before she and her brother have a chance to get more acquainted with the man, he heads back to the nearest town. She and the boy travel on alone in their covered wagon.
In the next sequence, it is revealed that Tucker is a co-owner with Jim Davis in a saloon called The Golden Bear. Davis wants the business all to himself, so he prods a gunslinger with a temper to fire on Tucker.
Tucker successfully defends himself, and the other man ends up dead. Interestingly, the slain gunman is the older brother of the immigrant woman and boy seen at the beginning of the story. He had owned a share in a local gold mine.
The plot goes in a few expected and unexpected directions. The woman and the younger brother come to town to claim their inheritance.
A romantic triangle develops as Davis competes with Tucker for the pretty lady’s affections and the approval of her kid brother. During these scenes, there is some commentary on how outsiders have trouble adjusting to life in this bustling community. Plus, the sheriff is depicted as a man with questionable morals whose badge can be compromised if he is given enough money to look the other way.
Meanwhile, a saloon singer (Estelita Rodriguez) wants revenge for the recent killing, because she was in love with the victim. It all may seem familiar to western fans, but there’s considerable action and suspense, and it leads to a final sequence pitting Davis and Tucker against each other on a steep ledge. The friendship of the two actors gives their scenes an extra dimension despite the tenseness of the standoff.
At a nearby distance, the woman and the boy wait to see who will live and who will die. Eventually, one of the bodies falls off the ledge and the other one is hanging on to a rope. Quickly the sheriff and his deputies raise the survivor back up to safety. The point of the story seems to be that newcomers to the frontier will never consider going back, because after they’ve passed through to California, there is nothing like a life of western excitement.
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Post by topbilled on Dec 9, 2023 14:45:00 GMT
This neglected film is from 1948.
Religious noir
Recently I watched the Monogram crime flick I WOULDN’T BE IN YOUR SHOES. I became an instant fan of star Don Castle and wanted to seek out more of his work from the late ‘40s. Between his assignments at Monogram, he did a loan out to Republic that is worth seeing and discussing. In MADONNA OF THE DESERT he plays a religious man (not a priest, or else we couldn’t have a romantic subplot) who lives in the Arizona desert with a cantankerous old man (Paul Hurst).
Inside the home of Castle’s character there is a bejeweled statue of the Virgin Mary that is quite valuable and adored by the local hispanics. One neighboring Catholic family borrows the statue to put on an altar at a relative’s wedding, believing the presence of the Madonna will bless the union.
Into this scenario we have a standard crime plot that goes a bit noir in spots. A scheming crook (Sheldon Leonard) has heard about the nearly priceless statue and covets it, thinking that once in his possession, he can fence it on the black market. He sends a sexy dame (Lynne Roberts) to Castle’s place in the hopes of having her ply her charms and steal the item. This is where things get a bit romantic and more interesting.
Of course, we know Roberts will really fall in love with Castle, against her better judgments. But it takes a little while for her to reform. There’s a unique scene where she goes with Castle to the Mexican family’s wedding and she tries to take the statue. She accidentally knocks a candle over and sets the altar on fire, which in turn causes the sleeves of her dress to burst into flames.
Ordinarily, Miss Roberts would have been badly burned and scarred, but to her astonishment there are no injuries to her skin. The dress may be ruined, but she is perfectly fine. The locals consider this a miracle, and now Roberts herself has been converted, beginning to share the same faith as Castle and the others.
Yes, it may be a bit hokey, particularly to an atheist viewer. But I found it all very creative, a nice spin on the ‘bad girl gets reformed’ trope. I liked how the characters weren’t afraid to demonstrate their spirituality.
When Leonard sends another man (Don Barry) to complete the mission of absconding with the statue, we know he won’t have a prayer. But the new relationship between Castle and Roberts does stand a chance and it will last for an eternity.
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Post by topbilled on Dec 31, 2023 16:30:11 GMT
This neglected film is from 1950.
A railroad line and a steamboat company
This Republic picture tells the story of the Rock Island Line, a railway operation that carried passengers through midwestern territory. Eventually the line serviced 14 states and operated for 130 years, from the pre-Civil War era until 1980. The historical drama that plays out on screen concerns itself with efforts to lay track from Rock Island, Illinois to Davenport, Iowa.
Several complications occur which nearly prevent an engineer turned entrepreneur (Forrest Tucker) responsible for its design from realizing his dream of improved transit that will outperform a rival steamboat company or any stagecoach in the region. The owner of the steamboat business is a shifty type played by Bruce Cabot who’s a bit long in the tooth but quite determined to get what he wants.
What does Cabot want exactly? He wants two things. One, to put Tucker out of commission before the railroad takes off; and two, to marry the daughter (Adele Mara) of a wealthy banker (Grant Withers). Trouble is Mara has broken her engagement to Cabot since she has now fallen for Tucker and wants to wed him instead.
But there won’t be any marrying until Tucker has proven a success of his proposed venture. He says men who marry rich women get told what to do by those women. In a noble yet chauvinistic way, he intends to accumulate enough riches of his own to be able to tell his woman what to do!
We know that Cabot won’t stand idly by as this romance develops. He has ideas to sabotage Tucker at nearly every turn. At one point in the dialogue, Cabot is referred to as having a wealth of manners but a poverty of ethics. That describes him to a tee. To thwart Tucker’s efforts, Cabot sends a fiery steamboat towards a new bridge the railroad just built, to destroy it.
The incident with the burned bridge leads to a trial, which Cabot loses. He loses, because Tucker has hired a smart lawyer named Abraham Lincoln (Jeff Corey).
Lincoln finds a kid (Jimmy Hunt) who happened to be fishing at the time of the bridge incident. Hunt testifies against Cabot, explaining how the steamboat couldn’t have accidentally drifted into the bridge, because there were no currents. The vessel had to have been deliberately steered. This is a slightly implausible plot point but still a cute nod to American history and a figure like Lincoln.
After failing with the bridge, Cabot brokers a deal with some natives. The goal is to start a war that will get in the way of the railroad’s expansion. Cabot ends up betrayed by the “injuns” who slash his throat and nearly kill him. It is learned that a native princess (Adrian Booth) who wears exquisite costumes and jewelry has persuaded the men to turn against Cabot.
He’s intrigued when he learns how duplicitous she is. He says the man she marries will have an interesting life with her, but also a dangerous one. She is not flattered by the remarks and says “If anymore attempts are made on Mr. Loomis’ (Tucker’s) life, I shall have you killed in a long painful manner. You would much rather your throat were cut.”
Booth’s character is hung up on Tucker, though it’s clear he will eventually marry Mara by the end of the picture. It is Booth who steals the film with her calm and highly controlled characterization of a somewhat unhinged native gal who can be sweet one moment and deadly the next.
The script depicts her as more than just a one-dimensional “injun woman.” Her grandfather is a peaceful old Sauk warrior; and he sent her to Europe. So she’s come back to the midwestern territory with a European education and a Parisian sense of fashion. Yet, she still has savage-like tendencies. It’s a fascinating role well-played by Booth.
The grand finale of the picture has Booth helping Tucker and his men defeat a group of attacking Sioux that had been stirred up by Cabot. For her efforts, Booth’s character is killed but at least she dies a heroine.
Joe Kane, Republic’s ‘A’ western director, gets the most out of his cast and stuntmen during the exciting on-location finale. And there are some wonderfully artistic touches by cinematographer Jack Marta who uses the studio’s Trucolor process to distinct advantage.
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Post by jamesjazzguitar on Dec 31, 2023 19:36:50 GMT
The photo of Adrian Booth reminded me of Claire Trevor.
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Post by topbilled on Dec 31, 2023 20:41:08 GMT
The photo of Adrian Booth reminded me of Claire Trevor. |
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Post by topbilled on Jan 9, 2024 14:08:16 GMT
This neglected film is from 1945.
Republic comedy with a message
To call this film a modest comedy would be understating things. Yes, it’s a modestly budgeted affair from the folks at Republic Pictures but one that is rich in humor, ably carried off by leading man Edward Everett Horton. You read it correctly; Horton has a rare turn in a lead role as a persnickety judge, and he makes the most of it.
Supporting Horton for the film’s 72 minute running time is Gladys George as his wife. The premise is fairly simple: Horton is overworked as the magistrate in a local community, and his wife’s been pestering him for a vacation. So he decides to take her to a resort, but not before presiding over one more case. In the courtroom, he refuses to listen to the idea that a defendant had extenuating circumstances for what he’d done.
Horton rules harshly and sentences the guy to ten years in prison. As the man is hauled off, his girlfriend (Isabel Jewell) gives the ole judge an earful about how he lacks empathy and doesn’t know anything about how other people live and struggle to survive. Horton is not moved to sympathy. He cites her for contempt of court, and she is also hauled away.
The next part of the story has Horton arrive home. Soon he and his wife (George) head off to the resort. Their car breaks down, and they end up at a roadside tavern/motel called The Jungle Club run by a man named Cookie (Paul Hurst). Cookie’s a culinary wiz, but he’s also a small time crook in cahoots with several others— Republic contract players Ruth Terry and Robert Livingston, plus freelancer Jack LaRue who specializes in low-rent thugs.
At first Horton and George are a bit snooty, but after a snootful of wine, they relax and start to enjoy their new surroundings. They become friends with Hurst and the rest of the gang then spend the night. There’s a lovely song that feels like a morale booster, sung by Miss Terry, who usually was assigned roles in studio musicals. Everyone joins in and sings a verse, including Horton and George.
The next day Horton realizes just how shady everyone is (the alcohol from the night before has worn off). He decides he still likes these people, but they need help. They have mistakenly assumed he’s some sort of mob boss, which he uses to his advantage to set up “crimes” that aren’t really crimes to teach them important lessons about going straight. One of the so-called crimes has him helping them rob his house (to get rid of some expensive statues his wife bought, which he absolutely loathes!). It’s an amusing premise. Horton performs all this with a wink to the audience.
Part of what makes the film so fun is the dialogue. At one point Everett exclaims: “These people are my guinea pigs, and the Jungle Club is my laboratory. I’m going to inoculate them with the virus of honesty.” There is a scene where he tells the gang their former way of life is passé. And we hear something like “sashay your passé!”
By the end of the story, Horton has successfully rehabilitated them. But first his career as a judge is revealed when Jewell’s character gets out of the hoosegow, arrives at the club and identifies him. He offers to reopen the case involving her boyfriend and admits he misjudged the man inside his courtroom. It’s a tad sappy, but shows us that not only have the crooks changed, Horton has changed as well.
My only quibble with the film is that Gladys George’s character disappears halfway through, when the focus switches to Horton’s “lab” experiment with the others. She shows up again at the end, when the club has a reopening with everyone now on the right side of the law. In fact, Gladys George isn’t even the main focus in some of the advertising for the movie…Horton is shown with Isabel Jewell on his lap! Still, this is a pleasant time passer with more than enough good parts to recommend it.
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Post by topbilled on Jan 28, 2024 14:12:55 GMT
This neglected film is from 1955.
Heartfelt military biopic
This Republic Pictures military biopic has a lot of heart. The real-life Navy hero, whose life serves as the basis for the story, was a man who faced very difficult odds and overcame them. Any motion picture based on his life would inevitably be emotional and inspiring.
Sterling Hayden who usually starred in westerns and crime flicks, was cast as John Hoskins. Hoskins was still alive when the film was produced. He attended the world premiere in Rhode Island with his wife Sue (played by Alexis Smith on screen).
THE ETERNAL SEA has a lot to recommend it. Besides the two lead stars, who share wonderful chemistry, there are many excellent aerial sequences. The drama goes a bit deeper than the average war film, since Hoskins was disabled while on duty in 1944. He spent the last part of WWII in sick bay, learning how to use a prosthetic leg. As he convalesced and rehabilitated, he faced two choices.
The first choice would have been to do what everyone, including his wife, wanted him to do. And that was, simply, to retire. He was only 46 at the time, and the only career he had ever known since age 23 was a career serving in the military. No, he couldn’t leave all that behind. The second choice was, basically, not to quit… to stay in the service. Not surprisingly, as a man with his personal strength and ambition, he chose not to retire, but to continue active duty.
We see his ongoing struggles adjusting to his handicap, as well as his determination to prove to others higher up that he’s still fit to keep his job. There are some great scenes in the middle of the film where Sterling Hayden gives us glimpses into the man’s physical and mental pain. Especially during a moment when he falls off some scaffolding on a ship, and then must get rid of the crutches before an important meeting.
In some regards this is a drama about willpower. It is also a drama about defying the pity and sympathy of others, to prove that a handicap does not have to be debilitating. There’s a line of dialogue which says, “I may have lost my foot, but I didn’t lose my brain.” I can imagine how gratifying it was for Hoskins and his wife to sit through the finished film, which conveys his important message of not giving up.
In addition to the convincing action and motivational message, THE ETERNAL SEA succeeds because it shows the full aspects of a man’s life. In a lot of these films, we see the wife at the beginning and at the end, so we know the guy has a family…but the wife is often surplus to the story. Here the filmmakers have done a nice job showing how a man’s wife and family are connected to his job. Everything he experiences is communicated back to the wife and reflected through her.
John Hoskins continued to work for the U.S. Navy for another two years after this movie was released. His life served as a positive example to other disabled veterans. And his story still inspires others every time someone watches THE ETERNAL SEA.
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Post by topbilled on Feb 11, 2024 14:53:08 GMT
This neglected film is from 1941.
Ice ice baby
This was the first of several ice skating films produced by Republic Pictures in the early 1940s. The production was inspired by a theatrical skating show of the Ice Capades which began in late 1940 in New Orleans and toured the country until May 1941. The tour ended in Los Angeles, and the performers— most of them former Olympic athletes from various countries— stayed in southern California to appear in this movie.
Republic sought to emulate the success that Fox had with Sonja Henie’s various ice skating musicals. MGM had tried with Joan Crawford (badly miscast) in an Ice Follies flick in 1939 that flopped with audiences. But Republic was determined to give it a shot anyway.
Cast in the leading role was Dorothy Lewis (in her only motion picture) who had performed on ice back east and already had a following. Lewis isn’t quite at the level of Henie, but she’s certainly capable and turns in a charming performance.
During production Republic Pictures boss Herbert Yates took a shine to one of the other skaters, Vera Hruba who would be renamed Vera Ralston. She was from Czechoslovakia and charming in her own way.
Hruba/Ralston doesn’t have any dialogue in ICE-CAPADES, but she does get to skate in the big finale, alongside other pros including British skater Belita who would sign with Monogram and make films for that company.
Typically, these types of productions have plenty of variety. Routines on ice can be very exhilarating to watch, with some comic bits mixed in. The norm is that there isn’t much of a plot, since the focus is on the fancy footwork and the spectacle presented to the audience.
However, Republic’s scenarists manage to provide some semblance of a story here. It involves a newsreel photographer (James Ellison) and his silly pal (Jerry Colonna) who accidentally discover Lewis skating across a frozen pond outside their hotel window one day.
Ellison and Colonna inform a producer (Phil Silvers) about Lewis’ exciting routines and show him what they photographed with the newsreel camera. At first Silvers thinks Lewis is some well-known talent, but it doesn’t matter when they realize she’s a nobody. Silvers will make Lewis a star, as part of a business venture with an ambitious associate (Alan Mowbray).
Of course, several conflicts occur. Ellison fights falling in love with Lewis, since he’s been happy up till now as a bachelor. There is also a matter involving Lewis and immigration officers, since she’s in the U.S. illegally. If Ellison marries her, then these problems will be solved. At the same time, Colonna is dealing with a pesky friend (Barbara Jo Allen) of Lewis’s who is somewhat man-hungry and setting her sights on him.
This is a pleasant way to spend an hour and a half of your time. My favorite scene was the sequence in which one of the Ice Capades skaters does a fairly elaborate routine on ice, on stilts. During the sequence, he raises one of his legs and does turns on just one stilt.
Skilled skaters, a decent enough plot, James Ellison’s winning personality, and so many great character actors and actresses— it’s no wonder Republic wound up with a hit.
The studio’s follow-up/sequel ICE-CAPADES REVUE would hit screens a year later, with Colonna and Allen returning alongside two other lead stars.
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Post by topbilled on Feb 27, 2024 14:50:59 GMT
This neglected film is from 1942.
Ice to see you again
A year earlier Republic Pictures had a hit with its big screen version of the ICE CAPADES. The studio was eager to put a follow-up picture into production. Originally titled ICE CAPADES REVUE, this was later seen as RHYTHM HITS THE ICE. Two supporting players from the first film, Jerry Colonna and Barbara Jo Allen, are back to provide more comic relief. But the lead couple is played by Ellen Drew and Richard Denning, on loan from Paramount.
Drew is cast as a New England farm girl whose debts are out of control. In need of money to stay afloat, she is heartened to learn she’s received an inheritance but must go to New York City to claim it. However, when she and her aunt (Allen) arrive in NYC, they are shocked to learn the inheritance is not in the form of money; it’s in the form of a traveling ice show (the Ice Capades dancers, featuring Vera Hruba Ralston). This is not exactly good news, since the ice show is also in debt.
Complicating matters is the fact that some racketeer has control of the contract for the ice rinks in the region, and one of his stooges (Denning) charms Drew to get her to disband the show. In fact, he thinks that if he can get her alone in a telephone booth, she'll be putty in his hands.
If Drew breaks up the ice show then Denning’s boss (Harold Huber) can promote his own business interests without any competition. When Drew finds out Denning is a heel, she wants nothing more to do with him. She takes the troupe to her farm where she works on a plan to save the show with backing from a potential investor (Colonna).
One of the film’s funnier sequences involves Colonna whose stock in trade is astrology. He has told them all he will come into a fortune on a certain day of the month, leading Drew and Allen, who has a crush on Colonna, to think he has some sort of trust fund. But it turns out Colonna’s referring to the night a radio broadcast occurs when he believes he will win a contest. He’s a crackpot hoping to win a jackpot.
Realizing they are right back where they are started, Drew tries to figure out what to do. Meanwhile, Denning has shown up at the farm. To make up for his previous mistakes, he rigs a broadcast to make it seem like Colonna has won a load of cash, to keep everyone’s spirits up…until Denning can find a new legitimate backer. Some of this is silly and far-fetched but it’s amusing to watch.
The best parts of the film are the ice skating numbers. I was surprised at how much variety and thought went into these scenes. At 20th Century Fox, Sonja Henie was usually the main attraction, with everything built around her. But here, we have an ensemble group’s talents on displays. There’s a Latin themed number early in the film where the skaters rumba and do a Conga line on the ice. There is also a fun Hawaiian hula type number with Vera Ralston front and center.
Plus we have a ‘rhythm hits the ice’ routine performed to the tune of ‘Ain’t Misbehavin’ that gives us a good jazzy piece to watch. The last number is a more patriotic performance with the skaters marching on ice.
Of course we know that everything will turn out all right in the end. Drew and Denning will become a proper couple; so will Colonna and Allen. The skaters will keep on skating, and the audience will keep coming back to see these kinds of entertaining motion pictures.
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Post by topbilled on Mar 10, 2024 14:12:38 GMT
This neglected film is from 1946.
Nightmares and reality
During the early days of his career as a Hollywood director, Anthony Mann turned out a series of B crime flicks at RKO and Republic. This was Mann’s fifth and final assignment at Republic, made just before he moved over to Eagle-Lion and MGM. What we have is a well-orchestrated piece of suspenseful hokum, with plot holes big enough to drive a truck through them. But it is nonetheless an engaging way to spend about an hour of one’s time if you don’t object to mindless entertainment.
The most interesting performer in the cast is Hillary Brooke. She plays an attractive but scheming lab employee who assists Brenda Marshall’s chemist with a series of experiments. Some of this lab testing leads to a minor explosion. Brooke, who covets another doctor at the research institute where they work— a man (William Gargan) who keeps proposing to Marshall, not to Brooke— would rather there be a bigger explosion that will send Marshall up in a could of smoke, permanently.
Brooke seemingly gets her wish when through a series of plot contrivances that can only occur in a Hollywood movie, Marshall appears to get injured during an experiment with her face severely disfigured.
Marshall convalesces at a hospital and Brooke manipulates the situation to tell Gargan that Marshall, bothered by her horrible disfigurement, no longer wishes to see him. Gargan being the sap he is seems to take Brooke’s word for it. Even more ludicrously, he accepts a date with Brooke not realizing she is angling to get closer and marry him in Marshall’s place.
There is a subplot involving another gal (Ruth Ford) who was involved in a small fender bender with Marshall. Ford is egged on by a shyster ambulance chaser— is there any other kind— to put the screws to Marshall and extort a considerable sum of money from her. When Marshall refuses to go along with the ruse, a confrontation takes place in Marshall’s apartment after she’s just gotten home from the hospital.
A gun that Ford brought to the scene goes off and Ford then falls over the balcony, dying as she hits the concrete sidewalk below. It is very convenient from a plot standpoint that Ford lands on her face and wrecks her face so much that she can be mistaken for the disfigured Marshall.
This frees Marshall up to take Ford’s identity and travel across the country to get a proper amount of plastic surgery— with no real explanation how she got the money for all these costly procedures.
As soon as she’s healed, Marshall intends to return to win Gargan back; though I am sure there were plenty of more handsome, less dopey men she could have chosen at the facility where she underwent the surgery.
By the time Marshall does return to reclaim Gargan, he is already married to Brooke. They both don’t recognize her, despite the fact Marshall’s voice, height and various mannerisms did not change. Eventually Brooke realizes what is going on, that Marshall is her former nemesis and this sets the stage for the final act.
Speaking of the film’s final act, it is rather clever that Marshall, assumed to be Ford, will be apprehended and blamed for her own “death.” Yet, we are short-changed to an extent, because instead of seeing Marshall’s actions backfire spectacularly, with her placed into the electric chair, the narrative abruptly shifts gears…
We learn Marshall dreamt the whole thing. She’d fallen into a deep sleep after injecting herself with a chemical during an experiment she had been conducting at the beginning of the movie. It cheats the audience, though obviously it’s done to facilitate a happy ending between Marshall and Gargan.
The moral seems to be that a woman cannot find happiness unless she agrees to marry a man and give him children, regardless of how unintelligent or unworthy he may be. That if she doesn’t sacrifice a career outside the home, then her nightmares may become reality.
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