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Post by Fading Fast on Apr 9, 2024 15:23:13 GMT
The Stranger from 1946 with Orson Welles, Edward G. Robinson and Loretta Young
Hollywood, in the second half of the 1940s, had a rich stock of war tales from which to develop plots with the "there is a Nazi hiding amongst us" storyline being one of the perennial favorites.
In The Stranger, Edward G. Robinson plays a tired but persistent post-war Nazi hunter looking for the fictional "architect of the Holocaust," Franz Kindler. Kidler escaped capture at the end of the war and has, since, effaced all evidence of his Nazi past.
Robinson's search leads him to a pleasant Connecticut town where Kindler, played by Orson Welles (who also directed), has assumed a new name, is teaching at the local prep school and is about to marry the daughter, played by Loretta Young, of a Supreme Court justice.
With that setup, the rest of the movie is a cat-and-mouse game between Robinson and Welles as Robinson tries, first, to discover if Welles is Kidler and, then, when he satisfies himself that he is, to go about the hard job of proving it.
Stuck in the middle of this is poor Loretta Young who thinks she married a nice quirky teacher with an odd hobby of repairing glockenspiel clocks - scratch a veiled Nazi and his German shows. Young spends the movie making a slowly harrowing discovery.
While the plot gets a bit convoluted with way too many holes, the story's concept of a former Nazi hiding amongst "us" is that good and Welles, Robinson and Young are that talented, that they easily shepherd the story over its bumpy parts.
It helps, too, that the dialogue, while obvious, is powerful as shown in the below dinner table speech where Welles, feigning academic detachment, tries to articulate the "German" viewpoint.
Welles: The German sees himself as the innocent victim of world envy and hatred, conspired against, set upon by inferior peoples, inferior nations. He cannot admit to error, much less to wrongdoing, not the German.
We chose to ignore Ethiopia and Spain, but we learned from our own casualty list the price of looking the other way. Men of truth everywhere have come to know for whom the bell tolled, but not the German.
No! He still follows his warrior gods marching to Wagnerian strains, his eyes still fixed upon the fiery sword of Siegfried, and he knows subterranean meeting places that you don't believe in.
The German's dream world comes alive when he takes his place in shining armor beneath the banners of the Teutonic knights. Mankind is waiting for the Messiah, but for the German, the Messiah is not the Prince of Peace. No, he's... another Barbarossa... another Hitler.
If that doesn't send a chill up your spine, then nothing will.
It is at this same dinner that Welles and his new wife have this baleful exchange:
Young to her husband Welles: I can't imagine you're advocating a Carthaginian peace.
Welles responded: Well, as a historian, I must remind you that the world hasn't had much trouble from Carthage in the past 2000 years.
It's not subtle, but even today, the words are disturbing, especially when later, as happens in The Stranger, a brief but haunting film clip of the concentration camps is shown.
Welles' directing so effectively juxtaposes the charming and "safe" Connecticut town, where families don't lock their doors at night, with the menace of Nazi Germany that it had to make audiences in 1946 go home feeling just a bit less secure wherever they lived.
Equally disturbing is Welles' portrayal of "the architect of the Holocaust" being able to amiably fit into this quiet American town. History has shown that many former Nazi monsters did bury their past identities and live unassuming lives after the war.
While Welles' acting isn't subtle, he has that all-important ability to own the screen, so much so, you can't take your eyes off him as you wait for his next word. It's not the theatrical talent of a Robinson, but you can't deny that Welles' presence on screen demands attention.
The Stranger has a too-obvious plot, but that doesn't matter much as the performances of the leads, the harrowing philosophical exchanges and the mood created by the menacing Nazi presence in this pleasant town make The Stranger an engagingly disturbing movie. |
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Post by topbilled on Apr 15, 2024 14:10:05 GMT
This neglected film is from 1943.
Feeling the effects of war after losing their loved ones
A lot can be said about the communism screenwriter Dalton Trumbo appears to have ‘inserted’ into the film. I don’t disagree with those who say it is there– in a story where a group of women during wartime share a communal living space. Trumbo took a traditional women’s melodrama with a theme about home front efforts, and he used it to talk about fascism in America.
Of course, for most of the audience, such ideas went sailing over their heads. And for some who did have a vague understanding of Trumbo’s goals, they probably didn’t share Trumbo’s sense of urgency. During the postwar era Trumbo and his pals– including the director of this film (Edward Dmytryk)– paid dearly for exploring these issues in TENDER COMRADE.
I’ve read reviews that zero in on Ginger Rogers’ performance as well as the performance of her leading man Robert Ryan. I didn’t have a problem with either one of them, though some of their scenes are a bit corny. Ryan even has a line where he refuses to let Rogers know the contents of a love note he wrote to her, since he admits it was sappy.
Contemporary critics commented on the other women Rogers shares a house with in the movie. I’d say Ruth Hussey probably has the best supporting role, playing a lonely wife who tries to justify her unfaithfulness. She gets a few showy scenes, and those moments take the focus away from Rogers.
Also, a very young Kim Hunter does a swell job as a newlywed, especially in scenes near the end when her character’s husband returns from combat. I didn’t particularly care for Mady Christians’ stereotypical German housekeeper. Trumbo should be blamed for making her a cliched foreigner with a thick accent and predictable expressions about her homeland. Most of the housekeeper’s dialogue is unintentionally funny. She’s best when she’s off screen.
There aren’t many factory scenes. We get one sequence near the beginning of the film, with Rogers riding a forklift in front of a process shot, acknowledging the other women working with her. Hussey has a brief moment riveting, then we cut to a lunch break where they all decide to pool their money to rent a house together. We’re led to believe this is a story about American women who feel the effects of war after their loved ones have been taken away from them.
There are some interesting speeches where they complain about rationing, or about having to do their part while the men are gone fighting. The film launches into very lengthy flashbacks that focus on the romance between Rogers and Ryan. It is almost like Trumbo couldn’t figure out whether to set it in the time right before the war or in the present day. I suspect extra flashbacks were added to increase Ryan’s screen time, since he was an RKO star in the making, and his character is sent off to war and otherwise never seen again.
Finally, I want to comment on how anti-climactic the ending is. As you can see, even the film’s title card indicates the husband has died. During the film, when the editors prepare us for one of the many romantic flashbacks, there are screen dissolves that show the couple walking in some heavenly realm. It is very obvious he will be killed, long before she receives the telegram informing her about his death.
Though I must say the scene where she sets the telegram down and lifts the baby out of the crib and “introduces” him to his father (in a picture frame) is very poignant. After she sets the baby back into the crib, she realizes she will have to keep her chin up and move forward. I suppose when women saw the film and left the theater, they were trying to keep their chins up, too.
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Post by Fading Fast on Apr 15, 2024 15:23:23 GMT
Tender Comrade from 1943 with Ginger Rogers, Robert Ryan, Ruth Hussey and Patricia Collinge
Let's get this out of the way up front. This film was used as part of the evidence by the House Un-American Activities Committee when it accused the movie's writer Dalton Trumbo of spreading communist propaganda. Eventually, Trumbo was blacklisted.
As a libertarian-leaning, raised-in-the-Cold-War-era anti-communist, clear blips appear on my radar for even small communist propaganda, but other than a ghost image here or there, I didn't see much agitprop nonsense in Tender Comrade.
To be sure, there are a few Marxist-ish lines about a bunch female factory workers sharing and sharing alike to save expenses and some other lines about the "fairness" of "having enough," but the latter weren't far off from the government's view, at the time, of war rationing and "pulling together" on the home front.
And, yes, Trumbo has some muddled thinking about democracy and economics that sometimes sounds faintly pink, but his thoughts, overall, struck me as more stupid than dangerous. If there was a crime committed by author Trumbo in this one, it was more for immature dialogue and pompous-but-trite speeches than any great subversive effort.
That's why the movie fails to be anything more than an also-ran effort as a WWII "home front" movie that is clearly not in the same class with The Human Comedy or The More the Merrier. In Tender Comrades, the characters often spew out rote lines that are just not that believable.
The simple plot here is four female factory workers, with husbands away at war and wanting to improve their living conditions, rent a home together. Of course, they all have their personality quirks and preferences that lead to them sharply bumping into each other now and then, but you know all along that they'll pull together when someone takes a war-related body blow.
So we see the obligatory arguments over rationing, volunteering, keeping one's lips sealed about their factory work, husbands and even sharing household chores. However, when someone learns that her husband has been taken prisoner or, on a positive note, a husband on leave is coming home, they all support each other and "pitch in." There's even the stock character (Hussey) who doesn't buy the "pitch in" stuff at first, but of course, she sees the light by the end as we learn her cynicism was, yawn, just a cover for her fears.
The only real bright spot in this flick is Ginger Rogers and Robert Ryan, playing Roger's boyfriend and then husband, as this not-obvious pairing has some real movie chemistry. You want to look for the scene where a calm Ryan nonchalantly asks Rogers to marry him and she immediately starts yelling at him for being "a wolf" and stringing her along.
He's more amused than angered because, as we soon learn, she's mad that he's kept his feelings so close to his vest that she didn't even know if he cared for her. To cut off her non-stop verbal pummeling, he gives her a much-deserved ultimatum - "say yes or no, not another word -" that brings the proposal to a happy conclusion.
And, heck, it doesn't hurt that Rogers has a rockin'-tight body on display throughout the proposal scene. Even in 1943, code and all, Hollywood knew how to fire up the prurience when it had the raw material to work with.
The movie needed more scenes like the proposal one and less pontification masquerading as dialogue. In this one, Trumbo's writing is ineffectual and obvious around the propaganda, but sometimes touching and astute when limning human foibles like Roger's insecurity in her relationship.
Finally, since we had to endure a bunch of cliches and way-too-much moralizing as dialogue, at least this bit of philosophy from Rogers, to a grumbling-about-America Hussey, landed a good blow: "Mistakes, sure we [America] make mistakes, plenty of them. You want a country where they won't stand for mistakes, go to Germany, go to Japan." Oh but for that wisdom today. |
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Post by topbilled on Apr 30, 2024 15:25:50 GMT
This film is from 1946.
Spiraling out of control
It starts with atmospheric opening credits. A young woman (Dorothy McGuire) is on the long winding staircase of the mansion where she is employed as a servant. At one point she hears the wind howling outside and covers her ears. This is ironic since she’s mute and unable to make sounds of her own. Later when she’s targeted by a serial killer, she will struggle to cry out for help.
The first murder takes place in town. Siodmak presents a group of locals watching a silent movie. The camera tilts up to the ceiling, and we see a woman about to change her clothes in the room above the theater. A man is hiding in the closet. We just glimpse his eye. Then there is a shot of her outstretched arms putting on a dress, caught off guard by the killer.
A physician (Kent Smith) is summoned, but there’s nothing he can do for the woman who’s pronounced dead. He notices McGuire and offers to take her home. They travel by horse and buggy to the remote country estate where she lives and works for an invalid (Ethel Barrymore). Also staying at the mansion with the old woman are her stepson (George Brent) and her son (Gordon Oliver). One of these men is the killer. Not the good doctor.
As they ride towards the estate, it is clear he is smitten with her. In their relationship he does all the talking, but not all the communicating since she is still able to express her feelings. He drops her a short distance from her employer’s home. As she approaches the front gate, a storm comes up.
What makes this so interesting is how Siodmak skillfully weaves the more idyllic aspects of life in 1916 Vermont with danger that seems to exist in hidden places. Close-ups linger on McGuire’s delicate features, and her mannerisms indicate a fragile quality.
Other characters at the house are depicted in sharp contrast. Besides Barrymore, there’s a clumsy housekeeper (Elsa Lanchester) and a strict nurse (Sara Allgood). We also meet a young secretary (Rhonda Fleming) who is romantically involved with the old gal’s son. When she becomes the killer’s next victim, McGuire believes the son might be responsible. She enlists the stepson’s help, not realizing that he is the actual culprit.
There are effective camera set-ups inside the mansion. Especially when Siodmak and cinematographer Nicholas Musuraca zoom in on Brent’s eye watching McGuire. There is a shot where they show McGuire who symbolically has the mouth area of her face blurred. These are stylized images of activity in the house, mostly from the point of view of a homicidal voyeur.
The last sequence is the most spectacular part of the movie. McGuire realizes Brent is the killer, and she tries to get away from him. Upstairs Barrymore realizes what extreme danger they are all in now. She has been bedridden for most of the story.
She is able to summon her strength and carefully lifts herself out of bed. Then she gets a gun. As Barrymore reaches the top landing, McGuire is rapidly ascending the stairs in an attempt to get away from Brent. Barrymore observes what is happening. She is very sick and about to die, but she manages to successfully aim and fire the gun.
Brent is shot in the chest and spirals all the way down to the bottom of the staircase. The son suddenly shows up and Barrymore dies in his arms. Meanwhile McGuire has screamed in horror, suddenly reclaiming her voice. She makes her way to the phone to call the doctor. Never before has anyone been so happy to hear from her.
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Post by topbilled on May 6, 2024 14:43:24 GMT
This neglected film is from 1948.
Memories of how it will be again
Producer Samuel Goldwyn purchased the rights to British author Rumer Godden’s novel ‘A Fugue in Time’ which served as the basis for this film. For those who don’t know a fugue is defined as something introduced by one part, then successively taken up by others who develop the interweaving parts. This might apply to a musical composition or in this case a written work.
Godden has structured the story in parts, so that what we see introduced at the beginning is developed by other characters in subsequent parts. The structure is actually not as complex as it may sound. If you think about it, most daytime soap operas operate this way where semi-connected characters develop similar themes in separate arcs that refer back to each other. Here Godden separates some of the arcs by the passage of time.
The main character is the one played by Goldwyn contract player David Niven. This would be Niven’s last Goldwyn film, having been under contract to the producer since the mid-1930s. It is not an ideal role for Niven, since he has to wear plenty of old-age makeup in the sequences set in the contemporary era of WWII; and he does not get the girl (played by Teresa Wright, another Goldwyn contractee).
Interestingly, Wright tangled with Goldwyn behind the scenes and refused to promote the picture when it was released in late 1948, so in early 1949, Goldwyn terminated her employment, which forced her to freelance with other companies.
Perhaps the reason Wright didn’t feel so enthused about the project is because while she is second-billed and plays the romantic scenes set in the past with Niven, she is overshadowed by two female costars. One of them is Jayne Meadows who does a superb job playing Niven’s controlling sister, scheming to keep him and Wright apart at every turn. Meadows gives such a convincing performance as a shrew one wonders why she wasn’t nominated for an Oscar.
The other female star of the picture is Evelyn Keyes, on loan from Columbia. Keyes plays a grand niece of Niven in the modern-day scenes. She’s an American relative of the family who’s in England to help with the war effort, driving an ambulance. She’s a porto-feminist, dedicated to her duties on the front lines, not interested in romantic nonsense with a man.
But despite her best efforts at resisting, she falls for a handsome soldier (Farley Granger) and is encouraged by Niven not to let love slip away. Like Meadows, Keyes gets several profound dramatic moments to play, especially at the end when she chases off after Granger during a catastrophic air raid. She finds him near a bridge just as it’s bombed. What a memorable scene.
By comparison, Wright has no real powerful moments to play, since the romantic storyline involving her and Niven is fairly by the numbers. And after she thinks she has lost Niven, she just disappears.
Overall the film is a tad too long, at 100 minutes, when it easily could have been told in 85 to 90 minutes. But in this case, the slowness of the piece is helped by the striking cinematographic images provided by Gregg Toland (it was his last film, he died before it was released into theaters). Toland’s chiaroscuro images are worth lingering on, so even if the plot isn’t moving along as briskly as it might have, we are still rewarded for our patience.
Incidentally, the novel suggests that Wright’s character is the illegitimate daughter of Nivens’ and Meadows’ father. In the film, she is an orphan ward taken into the family, and thus an adopted sister. But the novel implies she is a blood relative, which means her relationship with her ‘brother’ would be incestuous.
In that regard, we would have to root for the controlling sister (Meadows) who succeeds in breaking them up. But in the movie, we are supposed to root for the would-be lovers and feel hopeful that when Niven dies during the air raid at the end, perhaps he has been reunited in the afterlife with Wright and they’re starting a new fugue.
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Post by topbilled on May 12, 2024 15:49:43 GMT
This neglected film is from 1945.
Eleanor Roosevelt is coming
Flora Robson and Eric Porter star as a middle-aged couple in England during the Second World War. GREAT DAY was filmed in Britain by RKO and was released in the U.K. in April 1945, while the war was still going on. However, it did not have its American release until a year and a half later, in the fall of 1946, quite some time after the war had ended. As a result, it probably didn’t resonate with U.S. audiences the way it did when it was first seen in Britain.
Robson and Porter are of course, brilliant. Porter is a man stuck in the past, still trying to live off the glory of his military service in WWI. He is struggling to step out of the shadows. In direct contrast to this, his wife lives in the present and finds fulfillment in their small community working with other wives as part of the Women’s Institute.
For those who do not know, the Women’s Institute was a domestic organization that turned agricultural products into ‘care packages’ sent to soldiers fighting abroad. The short-lived television series Home Fires is also about the British Women’s Institute; in that story, the women were known for making jam.
In addition to Robson and Porter, the film also features the couple’s daughter (played by Sheila Sim). She’s caught up in a rather unlikely love triangle. She has been offered marriage by a much older man (Walter Fitzgerald) who promises financial security; but her heart really belongs to a poor soldier (Philip Friend) her own age. In addition to the main family, we see other families in the community– especially the other wives that Robson’s character interacts with as they prepare for a special arrival.
The arrival involves Eleanor Roosevelt. Supposedly the American first lady is visiting England, and she would like to see how the Women’s Institute of this particular community does its charitable work. Mrs. Roosevelt’s impending visit is announced at the very beginning of the story; and she does not show up until the end– just out of camera range, naturally.
In the meanwhile, Robson and the other women try to determine the best way to prepare for the arrival. There are several petty squabbles and various bits of gossip that threaten to disrupt their solidarity.
What makes GREAT DAY work so well is how humanized the women are in the story. Yes, it’s a propaganda piece, but its less about ideals and more about presenting the characters with realism. We are definitely supposed to feel patriotic at the end, and I think the filmmakers do a good job instilling such feelings in us. It’s a unique snapshot in time, just as it was when it was first screened in the U.S. after the war had been won, and the women had gone back to their regular routines. Though I am sure they had many more great days ahead.
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Post by Fading Fast on May 12, 2024 16:46:35 GMT
...
For those who do not know, the Women’s Institute was a domestic organization that turned agricultural products into ‘care packages’ sent to soldiers fighting abroad. The short-lived television series Home Fires is also about the British Women’s Institute; in that story, the women were known for making jam.
...
"Jambusters"
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Post by topbilled on May 17, 2024 15:37:37 GMT
This neglected film is from 1936.
“I can see the handwriting on the wedding cake.”
This was the third of five collaborations that costarred Gene Raymond and Ann Sothern at RKO between 1935 and 1937. Except for the first picture which was more of a musical revue and included other specialty acts, these films tended to be romantic comedies with an occasional musical number. SMARTEST GIRL IN TOWN only contains one tune, a lovely song written by Raymond called ‘Will You?’ which he serenades to Sothern on ukulele.
The emphasis here is on light entertainment with plenty of screwball situations for the main couple, as well as a seemingly endless supply of wisecracks delivered by third-billed supporting player Helen Broderick. In the story Broderick is Sothern’s older sister and has an estranged husband (Harry Jans). Her primary focus is making sure Sothern lands a wealthy man and doesn’t face the financial problems she and her husband have. Broderick was 17 years older than Sothern. In another film the following year, Broderick will be cast as Sothern’s more age appropriate aunt.
In addition to Broderick and Jans, Erik Rhodes is on hand as a European baron with a sloppy command of the English language. He and Sothern are being pushed towards the altar by Broderick, though it’s clear Sothern doesn’t love him. We also have Eric Blore, in delightful scene stealing mode, as Raymond’s valet who masquerades as an advertising exec. He offers Sothern a job at a considerable salary, bankrolled by Raymond, so that Raymond can get close to her on various modeling jobs.
Some of the greatest comedy is based on misunderstandings, and this film has plenty of amusing ones. Sothern thinks Raymond is a male model and views him as nothing more than an attractive coworker. She assumes he is as poor as she is, not knowing that he’s from a well-to-do background and owns a swank hotel as well as the yacht where they met on the first job.
If she knew who he really was, she’d dump the baron in a hurry and be much nicer to Raymond, since she actually loves him. Part of what makes this work so well on screen is that Sothern is basically a gold digger and Raymond is basically a rich cad, but underneath it all they are genuinely good people so we root for them to get together.
It’s obvious they will end up together, for as Broderick declares at one point, ‘the handwriting is on the wedding cake.’ But there’s this whole zany farce that gets them from meet cute to meet the guests at the wedding. In the film’s screwiest moment, Sothern marries Raymond in a bed at the hotel after she thinks he’s dying because he’s splashed ketchup on his face.
The film’s most genuine moment, though, is not the wedding scene but a very nice sequence a bit earlier where the main characters have a date in Sothern’s apartment, in which she gives him a shampoo and rinse. The best scenes are ones in which the audience is not told but shown something important. During the hair cleaning, we see Sothern mothering Raymond, and Raymond realizing Sothern has more depth than other girls he’s known. The smartest people in town can see this is a relationship that will go the distance.
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Post by topbilled on May 26, 2024 16:36:36 GMT
This neglected film is from 1935.
Insanity and peace
Ginger Rogers stars in this screwball comedy from RKO that was made in between her more well-known musicals with Fred Astaire. Though Astaire was originally considered as her costar for this venture, the studio decided instead to borrow George Brent from Warner Brothers. The story features Rogers playing a Hollywood actress, who after a recent nervous breakdown, tries to get away from it all.
She puts her career on hold and heads off to find some peace and quiet at a wilderness retreat. While there she meets a suave and charming outdoorsman (Brent) who distracts her from her original problems, and gives her new thoughts to mull over. Some of the humorous ideas in the script come across very well.
Take, for instance, one scene where the heroine has become rather annoyed with the guy’s less-than-successful attempts to romance her. She throws her hands up and looks at him contemptuously. Out of frustration, he asks what she wants him to do, and she tells him to go climb a tree. He then asks what tree in particular, and she says THAT tree, pointing to one off-camera. In the very next shot, he is actually up in a tree when she calls him in for dinner!
It is always a bit surreal to watch an actress play an actress. Perhaps it does require more than the usual suspension of disbelief to accept that her neurosis would be so easily solved by forging a relationship with a handsome stranger. It helps that the lead male role was cast with George Brent, instead of Fred Astaire, since having Astaire play a backwoods brute with curative powers may have been even more a stretch.
There are no huge surprises. George Brent is just like he appears in countless other movies. As expected he projects both awkwardness and sex appeal. His performance seems to rely on a limited but likable bag of tricks that he’s used to great effect in many pictures. As for Ginger Rogers, there’s a timeless quality about the way she projects both insanity and peace.
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Post by sagebrush on May 26, 2024 23:47:32 GMT
This neglected film is from 1935.
Insanity and peace
... As for Ginger Rogers, there’s a timeless quality about the way she projects both insanity and peace.
I like this statement. I don't think any other actress in the 1930's and early 1940's played relatable as well as Ginger. |
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Post by topbilled on May 27, 2024 14:15:21 GMT
This neglected film is from 1935.
Insanity and peace
... As for Ginger Rogers, there’s a timeless quality about the way she projects both insanity and peace.
I like this statement. I don't think any other actress in the 1930's and early 1940's played relatable as well as Ginger. |
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Post by topbilled on Jun 3, 2024 14:27:13 GMT
This neglected film is from 1952.
Multi-layered western
I haven’t decided if this RKO western in Technicolor is unfairly overlooked or unfairly maligned. Maybe both. It’s certainly a unique western and as a production overseen by Howard Hughes, it has its share of interesting scenes. What I really like about the film, which others might deride, is that it is several western films rolled into one. This is not because Hughes and his directors (there were more than one) couldn’t decide what story to tell, but because there were quite a few stops and starts behind the scenes.
Each time they resumed production on THE HALF-BREED, there was a new person in charge, taking the reigns under Hughes’ watchful eye. So in a way they keep remaking the story, with continuous retakes, something Hughes was famous for doing. And by the time they finally reached the end of a long production schedule, the editors had multiple versions to choose from for individual scenes. This actually works in the film’s favor.
The result is a multi-layered western drama about a group of white people in town (those scenes mostly shot at RKO’s ranch in Encino) and a group of indigenous people outside of town (with those scenes mostly shot on location in beautiful Arizona).
Part of the narrative focuses on a traveling gambler (Robert Young) who’s just come into San Remo. But before doing so, he was nearly killed and had his life saved by a half-breed, the title character (played by Jack Buetel). Young is slightly miscast but still renders an excellent performance.
Buetel had a memorable motion picture debut in Hughes’ THE OUTLAW, overshadowed by Jane Russell, but he remained under contract to Hughes for about a decade, though he didn’t make too many films. Here Buetel provides us with a very sensitive performance as a man who is half civilized and half savage, trying to decide which culture is best for him.
In addition to the culture clash and the ensuing friendship between these men, we have a love story. It involves Young falling for a saloon singer (Janis Carter in her last Hollywood movie), who is desperate to get on the next stage outta here so she can start a good clean life in a more respectable locale.
Her exit is delayed more than once. First, her manager gambles away her money, which Young wins back for her. Then, there there is an uprising by the natives against several corrupt townsfolk trying to push them off their gold-rich land.
In my opinion, the film really hits its stride when the whites and the Apaches head into battle with each other; though, many of the whites and one native maiden are innocently caught in the crossfire. Young and Buetel try to broker a peace, with Buetel ultimately deciding to side with the Apaches.
It’s gripping entertainment. We also learn Young had been a confederate soldier in the war who drifted into gambling; so, he knows what it’s like to be in a war where there are losers.
It’s a shame this film is not better known. It contains some very competent performances. Because of the start-stop-restart nature of the production behind the scenes, we have a multi-layered western entertainment that can be read in a variety of ways.
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Post by topbilled on Jun 14, 2024 14:37:41 GMT
This neglected film is from 1941.
Defeating a common enemy
In this early WWII flick, Edmond O’Brien is very young. It is one of his early roles, and he is billed after Robert Preston, on loan out from Paramount. The leading female role is played by Nancy Kelly, who had just finished her contract at Fox and married O’Brien as production was starting on this picture.
On screen O’Brien is cast as an educated and privileged enlistee. He clashes with Preston, who is featured as an athletic and somewhat roguish character. Preston probably has the more interesting part. We also have Richard Cromwell in a supporting role, as a would-be parachutist who has serious mental health issues and cracks up. In case things get too melodramatic, Buddy Ebsen is featured as another enlistee, providing comic relief as a hillbilly recruit.
Overseeing everything is Harry Carey as Kelly’s father, who just so happens to be the sergeant in charge of training these men. He seems to have his work cut out with them, especially Preston who enjoys challenging military authority.
Each member of the cast is given some unique things to do that demonstrate their various talents. However, Kelly’s role is the most underwritten, since after all this is a male action picture. Oh, there’s another Kelly– Paul Kelly– on hand as an assistant trainer, and I thought he did very well, exhibiting a lot of camaraderie with the boys, particularly with Preston whom he seems to admire as a fellow actor.
The leads appear to do a lot of their own on-the-ground and in-the-water stunt work, though I am sure the aerial scenes were done by professional skydivers. What makes the film so engaging and daresay fun is how educational it is, causing us to learn about the way parachutists are trained.
The film was put into production by RKO in early 1941, a good nine or ten months before the attack on Pearl Harbor. The story depicted on screen seems to anticipate the need to prepare for war, alongside other military films from the same period like Paramount’s I WANTED WINGS (1941).
There is a fair amount of light-heartedness in scenes, but there is plenty of nail-biting drama too. The part where Cromwell’s character pulls a gun on the other men inside the plane, refusing to take a dive due to his own fears, is powerful stuff. There is also the requisite romance drama with Preston and O’Brien vying for the leading lady’s hand in marriage.
Perhaps the best bit, aside from the incredible aerial shots and impressive stunt work, is a nice little musical interlude about two-thirds of the way into the picture where Ebsen gets to do some hoofing. He is allowed to show off his fancy footwork when a country tune is played and he gets the rest of the men to join in and dance with him. A marvelous scene.
The main message of PARACHUTE BATTALION is that we can all bond and work together to overcome our fears. In doing so we will be able to defeat a common enemy.
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Post by topbilled on Jun 22, 2024 13:54:59 GMT
This neglected film is from 1936.
“You know, don’t you? You know everything.”
A killer corners amateur sleuth Hildegarde Withers near the end of this film, accusing her of knowing everything about the two murders that have been committed. She can’t deny she does, for despite being a relative novice at solving crimes of this nature, Hildegarde has good instincts and is usually able to deduce things most do not. Of course, her knowledge of such things often puts her life in mortal danger. That’s where police Inspector Piper comes in, to bail her out of a jam. They’re quite a duo.
This was RKO’s fourth installment of the popular mystery series based on bestselling novels by crime writer Stuart Palmer. In the previous three outings Hildegarde was played by character actress Edna May Oliver, and the role was a bit more uppity. She was still depicted in her original milieu, that of a spinster schoolteacher. But now she is branching out, and she’s much more directly involved with aiding the criminal investigations of the local police, headed up by Inspector Oscar Piper.
James Gleason would portray Oscar in all of RKO’s installments. There were six all told— the first three with Oliver, this production with Helen Broderick, plus two more with ZaSu Pitts. Fans of the series usually favor Oliver’s portrayal, but I favor Broderick’s. The main reason is because I don’t think her version of the character is competing so much with the cops. Instead, we see her assisting police efforts in a roundabout way. Broderick is not as rigid in her line deliveries as Oliver; her down-to-earth wisecracks are perfectly played giving her a smart but relatable quality.
In a way, it’s a shame that Broderick only had this one chance to play the character. The next Hildegarde, Pitts’ version, is way too quirky for my liking. The role is meant to be sardonic, and mildly comical, but not so funny that we forget about the seriousness of the deaths that are occurring on screen.
In MURDER ON A BRIDLE PATH, the deaths are rather gruesome. A debutante is killed on a horse one day in Central Park; later, her ex-father-in-law is hanged by the feet. These are horrible killings, and as Hildegarde digs deeper, we learn that there is actually a very sad motive behind it all.
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Post by topbilled on Jun 27, 2024 14:39:14 GMT
This neglected film is from 1951.
Excursion into wartime espionage
This is a rather suspenseful war film made by Howard Hughes’ RKO. The studio had a hit-or-miss track record under Hughes, but this is definitely a hit. He’s borrowed Dana Andrews from Sam Goldwyn and assigned the directing chores to Alfred Werker, who always does a competent job. Andrews and Werker would team up again a few years later for a western programmer at Columbia.
Hughes often put whatever new girlfriend he was dating on a contract. Not all those starlets clicked with audiences. This time, it’s Carla Balenda, who does a very credible job in a role that is slightly more than decorative, but not too intense.
She plays a woman who basically connives her way on board a fishing vessel that Andrews and his men take from Gloucester, Massachusetts along the North Atlantic coast to Newfoundland. Balenda wants to be reunited with her father (Onslow Stevens) on the small island they’re from, since he has had an injury and was discharged from his job.
Due to the production code we are made very much aware that Balenda is not sleeping with Andrews or any of the men. She has a small room to herself off the kitchen. But she doesn’t exactly do much cooking, since she gets embroiled in a tale of espionage with Andrews and the others. For on their way to Canada, they run across another ship that seems to have been attacked and has only one survivor, its captain (played to marvelous perfection by Claude Rains).
Rains has them all fooled at first. He plays the victim, letting Andrews and the crew think that he’s been the victim of a wartime attack. This is 1943, when boats were routinely targeted by the Nazis in the Atlantic waters. Of course, Rains is lying through his teeth. The whole thing is a ruse, staged to dupe a naive fisherman like Andrews…we later find out Rains is a Nazi who wants to be towed by Andrews up to the Canadian coast. Then Rains will be reunited with his own crew and will blow up the island where Balenda’s father and friends live.
It’s a gripping set-up, and the scenes where they arrive in Canada and the danger becomes increasingly clear to Andrews is very well played. There’s a wonderful scene where Andrews and his Danish right hand (Philip Dorn who always is skillful at underplaying stock characters) sneak on to Rains’ ship and find a hidden compartment where torpedos are placed— the titular sealed cargo.
There is also a secret room that Rains has to radio Nazis in nearby submarines. Eventually, Andrews and Dorn learn Rains has a bomb with which he will explode the island.
Of course from here, it becomes a game of cat-and-mouse. Andrews and Dorn continue to play dumb naive fishermen to fool Rains. But Rains comes to realize they are wise to him, followed by Rains trying to outmaneuver them. Rains is determined to complete a mission of destruction for his German bosses.
Bringing Rains to justice, and saving the island, gives the film its dramatic impetus. It all reaches a satisfying climax when Rains’ ship is blown up at sea away from the island.
What I really love about this film is how engaging the story is. It takes its time building to the spectacular ending. We have such a wonderful game of oneupmanship going on between Andrews and Rains, and the tension increases very evenly. There are some good exterior scenes that open up the action, so it’s not all stage bound. And I felt Andrews had very nice chemistry with Balenda. This is a highly recommended excursion into wartime espionage as only RKO can deliver.
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