THE MYSTERIOUS MR. M (1946 serial)

In the latest of a string of murders committed by someone who leaves a note signed "Mr. M," three small-time crooks are found dead in a river, their brains paralyzed by an unknown chemical. Police chief John Blair and detective Kirby Walsh are mystified, but we soon discover that the chemical is a drug called hypnotrine, a truth serum and mind control drug developed by Anthony Waldron, a man who has been assumed dead for years. Waldron, hiding out in his grandmother’s mansion, and being assisted by his brother Derek and sister Marina, is trying to get ahold of Prof. Kittridge's new invention, a super-engine that will allow submarines the size of ocean liners to be built (a fact that is explained in literally every chapter of this serial). Waldron is calling himself Mr. M, but soon, he starts getting phonograph records with whispered instructions from someone else using the Mr. M handle, who is masterminding his own search for the engine plans and blackmailing Waldron into working for him. As the police investigate, Kittridge winds up dead, and one of his assistants, Jim Farrell, is injected with hypnotrine by Waldron to help him—it turns out that Kittridge had farmed out the production of various parts of the engine to a number of people and companies, and the Waldrons have a long road ahead of them. As it happens, Jim's brother Grant is a government agent, and after Jim winds up dead during a confrontation, hypnotrine is found in his blood, and Grant vows to track down Mr. M. Grant and Kirby and Shirley Clinton, an insurance investigator team up under Chief Blair to find the engine plans first, and to bring Mr. M to justice, not knowing that there is more than one Mr. M.

Most of the above and more happens in the first chapter. It's thick with exposition but still manages to be exciting. More exposition follows, but a nice variety of locales and minor characters keep things moving fairly well over the next 12 chapters. At one point, Kirby is captured, injected with hypnotrine, and has an experimental electronic device implanted in his ear, allowing Waldron to send him orders remotely. Among the cliffhangers: an oil field set ablaze, a building set ablaze, a plane with an unconscious pilot, fisticuffs and car chases, and the apparent fatal shooting of a major character. The script is a notch above the average, though the plot recaps that open each chapter are delivered as exposition from one character to another (often someone reporting developments to the desk-bound Chief Blair) and that gets tedious. Oddly, in the onscreen billing for each chapter, the two bad guys, Edmund McDonald (Anthony) and Danny Morton (Derek), are billed first and third, far above the good guys, Dennis Moore (Grant) and Richard Martin (Kirby), who get seventh and eighth billing (second billing goes to Pamela Blake (Shirley) who gets a big action scene in the disabled plane). I liked the acting throughout, especially Morton and Martin; also Jane Randolph as Marina and Byron Foulger as the mousy lawyer Wetherby.

This serial came late in the serials era, though they were still being released through the early 50s, and this was the last one produced by Universal. The general view is that the later serials were losing steam, but I have not necessarily found that to be the case. I quite enjoyed SECRET AGENT X-9 and MANHUNT OF MYSTERY ISLAND, both from the late 40s. I think a bigger reason for the demise of the serial was television, where if the shows weren't exactly like serials, they were serialized, even if each segment was a stand-alone story. The plot of this serial contained more variety in incident than usual, with some plot strands lasting only a couple of chapters, and some characters came and went throughout—and one of the top-billed characters is surprisingly killed off before the last chapter. There is also a trick involved in the unmasking of the real Mr. M in the last chapter. I did like this, and I can actually imagine watching it again. At top left are good guys Richard Martin and Pamela Blake; at right, bad guys Danny Morton and Edmund MacDonald  [DVD]

DEATH IS NIMBLE, DEATH IS QUICK (1966)

American Interpol agent Tom Rowland (Brad Harris) and his buddy, detective Joe Walker (Tony Kendall), are back in another Eurospy movie, the second in the Kommissar X series after KISS KISS, KILL KILL. In Ceylon (now Sri Lanka), three men attempt to kidnap Babs Lincoln, daughter of a wealthy American businessman, resulting in the death of Rogers, an American diplomat, by a fatal karate chop administered by a big bald bruiser named King (Dan Vadis). As it happens, Rowland gives a public demonstration of his impressive karate skills in Singapore and he is tapped to investigate the kidnapping attempt, apparently being masterminded by a mysterious criminal organization called the Golden Cats. When Walker is hired by Babs' father to keep an eye on her, the two wind up working together on the case. As Walker prepares to take a shower in his hotel room, the water comes streaming out blood red, and it turns out to be infected with man-made bacteria that can eat human flesh. As is often the case with these 60s spy films, the plot becomes labyrinthine and hard to follow, but turning off your narrative logic senses will help you enjoy the proceedings which include the following: a beachside chase between a jeep and a train, a thrilling rooftop chase between Tom and King, a cab that is used to gas backseat passengers to death, an assassination attempt foiled by a flashing mirror, more karate attacks, a bizarre amphibious tank that patrols a creepy swamp filled with dead trees, and eventually a climactic sequence of elephants versus a plane.

I'm finding these Kommissar X movies quite fun, almost as much fun as the classic James Bond films, taking into account their lower budgets and less creative screenwriters. Harris and Kendall have a nice 'antagonistic buddies' chemistry, and though in theory, it's Kendall whose character is Kommissar X—though that name is never used in the film—it's Brad Harris (pictured to the left of Kendall) who gets the lion's share of the action and attention here. Vadis makes an effective and imposing bad guy, and Siegfried Rauch is nicely repellent as the secondary villain Nitro, though of course, neither one of them is the chief bad guy whose identity is kept secret until near the end. The finale takes place in another supervillain secret island lair, though it feels oddly truncated. The German title, Drei gelbe Katzen, means Three Yellow Cats, but the English dub always refers the group, definitely more than three people, as the Golden Cats—the 'three' may refer to a ceramic bauble of three cats which is sometimes left at the scene of a crime. Enjoyable. [YouTube]

THE BITTER TEA OF GENERAL YEN (1932)

During the Chinese civil war of the 1920s, Shanghai is in chaos. Bob, a missionary, is about to marry Megan, his childhood sweetheart whom he hasn't seen in three years. On her arrival in Shanghai, her rickshaw driver is hit and killed by the car of the warlord General Yen. Megan is upset that Yen seems unconcerned that he has caused a death (as in Casablanca, human life is apparently cheap) but for good or ill, they have made a brief connection. As the missionaries spout cruel comments about their charges, Bob decides to postpone the wedding briefly to go off and save some orphans. He goes to Yen to get a safe passage document, but Yen gives him a note which mocks him for leaving his bride-to-be. Bob and Megan get to the orphanage, but street battles separate them and an injured Megan is saved from further harm when she is taken onto the private train of General Yen. While recovering at his home, she sees a brutal mass execution carried out from her window even as she sees scenes of luxury in his palatial house. Megan has been reported dead so Yen decides to keep her around. She tries to sneak letters out to Bob, but Yen's mistress Mah-Li gives them to Yen instead. Yen says he will send her back to Shanghai once things have calmed down in the streets, but he engages in a slow burn seduction with Megan, and soon she is having erotic dreams of a suave and loving Yen saving her from a demonic Yen. But even as she begins to fall for him, she cannot convince him to show mercy to Mah-Li when it is discovered that she is the lover of one of Yen's henchmen, and has been feeding information to Yen's enemies. In the end, Megan agrees to stay with the isolated warlord and she dresses as a courtesan to serve him tea, but he has poisoned the tea, and after he dies, she says she will never leave him, and will see him again in the afterlife.

This early Frank Capra film is a footnote in movie history as the first film to play at Radio City Music Hall, but it still holds interest as an example of fine pre-Code moviemaking. The shimmering black & white photography is gorgeous, and though the sets may not be as elaborate as those at MGM (this was shot at Columbia, at the time not quite a grade-A studio), they are effective. Romance between races would soon be banned by the Production Code, and some critics believe that the portrayal of love between an Anglo woman and a Chinese man doomed the movie at the box office. Barbara Stanwyck is as fine as ever as Megan; the Danish actor Nils Asther dons what we would call "yellowface" to play Yen, but he plays his role with some subtlety and I don't think his performance is as jarring to modern viewers as those in the Charlie Chan or Mr. Moto movies. There are Asian actors in a handful of roles, including Toshir Mori as the complicated mistress. Walter Connelly plays an American money man who has raised a good deal of cash to finance Yen's ambitions, and Gavin Gordon is the unlikeable Bob. Given how interracial romance was treated through most of Hollywood’s classic era, the ending here in which Megan still pines for Yen after his death is almost shocking. [DVD] 

KWAIDAN (1964)

We popped this award-winning Japanese anthology film in the DVD player as a Friday night Chiller Theatre pick. Not a good choice. Despite its reputation, this is not a horror film in any meaningful way. We gave up after the slow first half-hour. But the next night, with genre expectations gone, we enjoyed it for what it is: a beautifully shot, deliberately paced rendition of four ghost stories (more or less) with a tone of unease rather than horror. The film dramatizes four supernatural stories of Japanese folklore, originally collected and retold by Lafcadio Hearn. In "The Black Hair," a samurai reduced to poverty leaves his wife to make a more financially beneficial marriage with a woman from a high-class family. But after several years, he soon realizes that his new wife is selfish and a life lived just for material satisfaction is not fulfilling, so he leaves to go back to his first wife. She welcomes him home, though oddly, she seems not to have aged, and their home is just as it was. As he learns, appearances can be deceiving. The second story, "Woman of the Snow," has a beautiful, if patently artificial, setting, with a winter skyscape of clouds that look like eyes. During a snowstorm, a woodsman and his apprentice take shelter in what seems to be an abandoned hut. The next morning, a woman with long black hair appears and breathes frost onto the older man's face, killing him. She spares the younger man but tells him he must never tell anyone about the incident. Of course, in folklore, we all know what eventually happens when someone is told not to do something: they do it. Consequences follow. 

The third story is the longest and has the slowest pace, and its title,"Hoichi the Earless," is a bit of a spoiler, but it's worth sitting through. We first see two clans in a sea battle, and the losing clan dies out when all the women kill themselves in disgrace. The shoreline is said to be haunted by ghosts of the clan. A blind servant named Hoichi is known for singing a ballad of the battle, and one night, a samurai arrives and takes Hoichi to the shoreline where what appears to be a mighty court of people listen to him play his song. He does this night after night until two of his friends realize he is playing to the ghosts of the losing clan, and they fear that he will be taken by the dead as one of them. The set and effects make this a very effective sequence. The last story, "In a Cup of Tea," is the least. Its tale of a writer whose creativity is stymied when he sees a vision of a face in his tea is both predictable and muddled. Overall, the film, directed by Masaki Kobayashi, is too long—the version I saw on a Criterion DVD is 161 minutes, and a 3 hour cut is available elsewhere—but its slow pace is part of what makes it evocative. Kobayashi's use of vivid color and studio sets bring to mind the films of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburgerer, like Black Narcissus or Tales of Hoffmann. Well worth watching for its look and atmosphere. [DVD]

AND NOW TOMORROW (1944)

At her engagement party, socialite Emily Blair (Loretta Young) falls ill with meningitis; when she recovers, she has lost her hearing. The doctors don't know how long it will last, so she puts off marriage to Jeff Stoddard (Barry Sullivan). She spends months visiting doctors all over the world but gets nowhere (though she kicks ass at lip-reading). On her return train trip to her hometown, she is pulled out of the way of a runaway luggage cart by Dr. Merek Vance (Alan Ladd), who has a practice at a free clinic in Pittsburgh. He's a hometown boy visiting his mentor, Dr. Weeks (Cecil Kellaway), who has, coincidentally, asked him to work on Emily's case. At first, she assumes that this free clinic physician couldn't possibly help her, and on Merek's part, he resents her family because years ago, Emily's father laid off Merek's father just before Christmas. But she agrees to try his treatment and he agrees to stay in town for a few weeks to see if it works. Their relationship remains a bit prickly, but eventually they warm a bit to each other. Soon, Merek stumbles on an unpleasant fact: Emily's fiancé Jeff is having an affair with Emily's sister Janice (Susan Hayward).

This small town soap opera is, refreshingly, short on showy melodramatics, and allows the relationship between Emily and Merek to develop at a leisurely pace, perhaps a bit too leisurely as, at just 90 minutes, things bog down a bit in the final third. But if thwarted romances and medical dramas are in your wheelhouse, you'll like this. I like Young better in her 1930s movies where she seems bright and energetic. Here, she seems artificial at times, and she doesn’t really inhabit her character. But she's OK, and better are Ladd and Kellaway. Sullivan and Hayward are fine, even though, for the most part, they remain cardboard characters—though you can feel Hayward trying to make something meatier of her role. Grant Mitchell and Beulah Bondi provide solid support. Good line, early in the film: at a diner, Ladd asks for coffee, "hot, strong, and made this year." The cook replies, "You won’t like ours." Pictured are Ladd and Young. [DVD]

THE CARPET OF HORROR (1962)

A man seated at a desk near a statue of Kali is killed when a gloved person tosses a large round tablet on the carpet near the desk. The tablet dissolves into gobs of hissing gas, choking the man to death. Scotland Yard doesn't know what to make of it, except that the gas causes facial scarring and seems to be a poison found in India. Meanwhile, in another house, John Milner, a minor member of a large crime gang run by a mysterious, never-seen boss, has a list of all the gang's members that Scotland Yard would like to get ahold of. Detective Harry Raffold (Joachim Fuchsberger) is on the grounds when another gas tablet attack occurs, killing John. Ann (Karin Dor), the victim's daughter and now an heiress, sees Harry try unsuccessfully to stop the killer, and soon he has appointed himself Ann's protector (and suitor) and delves into the poison gas case as well. The gang's hideout is a basement beneath a car repair shop where they gather to see instructions from the mysterious boss which appear typed out on a large TV screen. Ann moves into a boarding house run by Mabel (Eleonora Rossi Drago), who may or may not be interested in a fling with Harry. The Colonel (Carl Lange) is a possibly sinister fellow boarder. After a series of increasingly outlandish events—and more gassings, although one character is racing against the clock to develop an antidote—the boss is finally exposed and defeated, and Harry and Ann, who get engaged in the back of a taxi, can live happily ever after.

This German krimi film has the usual genre markings including an unknown but all-knowing villain, a crime gang, a trap door, and a convoluted plot. Nevertheless, I found this to be quite fun. I've become quite a fan of Fuchsberger (pictured) and he's in good form here. Harry Raffold seems like the kind of character who might have been brought back for more adventures, though essentially, he is very much like all the other heroes that Fuchsberger plays in these krimi films. Dor is a notch above the usual krimi heroine and the rest of the cast is fine, especially Drago who keeps you guessing about what her role in all this might be. The ridiculous title might give you pause (though the German title is almost as silly: Der Teppich des Graunens = Carpet of Dread), but I recommend this. The print I saw is dubbed in English but the German text on the screen is untranslated. [YouTube]

THR TRUTH ABOUT SPRING (1965)

Gruff small-time fisherman John Mills lives on his small boat with his tomboyish teenage daughter (Spring, played by Hayley Mills, John's real daughter). The pair can be con artists when they need to, as when we see the two pretend to be starving in order to get food and supplies from a bigger boat. While in dock in the Florida keys, they get a visit from a nearby yacht from young handsome James MacArthur who is looking to buy some fish for his uncle and the uncle's young female guests. A recent law school graduate, James decides he's bored on the yacht (and intrigued by Hayley) and when Mills invites him to stay a while, he does. Mills' ulterior motive is to get James to help him (in legal matters and otherwise) find a lost treasure marked on a map in his possession that two other groups of men (which include Lionel Jeffries, Harry Andrews and Niall MacGinnis) also want to find. Ultimately, as sparks fly between James and Hayley, everyone winds up on an island beach, digging up an old wreck that may or may not have anything valuable in it. The most surprising thing about this movie is that it's not a Disney production. It is family-friendly, it has Hayley Mills (from the Disney films Pollyanna, The Parent Trap, and In Search of the Castaways), and it has a fairly strong supporting cast, but it's from Universal via the British company Rank. Though certainly watchable, that hard-to-define Disney magic is missing. Hayley Mills was almost 20 and James MacArthur (pictured with Hayley Mills) was closing in on 30, but her maturity and his youthful looks help make them seem more evenly matched. She seems to be having fun, though MacArthur (who had his own batch of Disney films in his past) feels a little less into the proceedings. John Mills is good as always, and the other stalwart British supporting players are fine. At times, it verges on a Home Alone-ish feel, with villains who never seem very threatening, and I suppose that's what makes this ideal viewing for children—there is a little bit of innocent romance and a little bit of danger and a little bit of adventure. Adults may feel differently, especially since it feels rather long at around 100 minutes, and though it's harmless, you might prefer to rewatch Mills in The Moon-Spinners or MacArthur in Swiss Family Robinson. [Blu-Ray]

THE ADVENTURES OF DUSTY BATES (1947 serial)

It's a foggy night in London as the ship Tilbury Pride heads for a dock along the Thames. Young Dusty Bates (Anthony Newley), an orphan who has run away from his abusive adoptive parents, has stowed away on the ship following his Uncle Hank. Dusty, in hiding, sees a couple of sailors, Tod and Walrus (nicknamed for his mustache) conniving to hide some smuggled jewels in a crate to be taken off the ship and put into a warehouse where they can retrieve them when they're not being watched by dock police. When Dusty is found, he asks to stay with his uncle Hank, but Hank suggests that Captain Ford and his wife, who have two children of their own, take Dusty in until more permanent arrangements can be made. At first, Ford's son David resents having to share his room with the newcomer, but soon, David and his sister Gill initiate Dusty into their "secret" club which involves minor adventures, the details of which must all be kept secret. However, Dusty sets them off on a major adventure when he finds out that Uncle Hank is implicated in the smuggling—he was the unwitting carrier of the jewels onto the boat—and he and the Secret Three try to find the jewels before Tod and Walrus. What they don't know: 1) the head of the shipping company is also after the jewels, and 2) Captain Ford, though completely innocent, is being set up to take a fall if the smuggling effort is exposed. Can the Secret Three get the jewels and avoid getting caught by the villainous forces after them?

As a fan of classic-era Hollywood serials, I was surprised to discover that the British were apparently making their own serials, or at least this one—I couldn’t find much information about other such serials. It follows the American pattern of a serialized narrative in chapters of 15-25 minutes each, with cliffhangers at the end of each chapter to bring audiences back the next week. But there are differences. This one is explicitly aimed at children, or as the opening credits before each chapter put it, "An adventure story for children of all ages." With only five chapters, the total serial runs just two hours instead of the three- or four-hour running times that American serials typically had. The cliffhangers are not quite as exciting as the Hollywood ones, but they also don't cheat the viewers by showing our heroes being blown up, only to cheat an escape in the next chapter. The longer serials fell into repetitive patterns with the story stalling around chapter 3 in order to fill out the long running time (rather like streaming television shows today); this narrative went along at a brisk pace with little repetition. Though one might be tempted to dismiss this as kiddie matinee stuff (which, of course, is what the Hollywood serials basically were except with adults in the leads), the children are put in real danger; the primary villainous pair of Tod and Walrus might seem a bit like comic relief, but they're never slapstick bad guys as in the Home Alone movies. The kids mostly go through their adventures on their own, though Uncle Hank gets drafted into the secret society near the end. Anthony Newley went on to a strong showbiz career as an actor in movies and on the stage, and also found fame as a composer (songs for WILLY WONKA and the lyrics to the theme from GOLDFINGER). Bernard Lee, M in the early James Bond movies, has the relatively small role of the captain. I quite liked John Longden (Tod), Tony Arpino (Walrus), and Ronald Shiner (Squeaky, Hank's comic relief buddy. Recommended for serial fans. Pictured are Arpino and Longden. [DVD]

THE CRIME OF DR. CRESPI (1935)

At the Taft Clinic, the senior surgeon, Dr. Crespi (Erich von Stroheim), gets a call from Estelle Ross, wife of Stephen Ross, another renowned surgeon. He has been gravely injured in a car accident and she asks Crespi to operate on him. At first, Crespi turns her down because of their past love triangle; Crespi had been in love with Estelle, and he remains bitter that she married Stephen, Crespi's assistant at the time. Soon he relents, and the operation seems successful, but we find out that Crespi was actually using Stephen as a test subject for an experimental drug. After injection, Stephen becomes paralyzed and appears to be dead but is still aware of everything around him. By the time the drug wears off, Stephen will be buried alive. Crespi manages to stop an autopsy before the doctor would notice that the body was still alive, but cringing underling Dr. Thomas (Dwight Frye) notices that Crespi had filled out a death certificate while Stephen was still alive. Will Thomas have the wherewithal to report Crespi, and if so, will Stephen be rescued from his premature burial? The best thing about this Poverty Row melodrama is the stark set; necessitated by the low budget, it gives the movie an interesting and eerie feeling which, for the most part, the acting and writing can't do (and neither can the music because there is essentially no background score). Stroheim is playing Stroheim, as he usually did, and his one-note performance robs the film of a strong central figure. However, supporting players Dwight Frye, Paul Guilfoyle, Jean Brooks, and Geraldine Kay bring their characters to life enough to keep the viewer's interest. There is a subplot involving a romance between a doctor and a nurse that is mostly played for comic relief, and with a running time of barely more than an hour, this ends up feeling a little long. But it remains watchable for its almost expressionistic visual style, and for giving Frye a fairly normal and sympathetic role. Pictured are Stroheim with Harriet Russell as Estelle Ross. [Blu-ray]

WILD GIRL (1932)

This pre-code melodrama is framed as if we're flipping through a photo album, with scene transitions done by page turns instead of wipes or fadeouts. The credits feature the actors introducing themselves in character. In the small mountain town of Redwood City, young tomboyish wild child Salomy Jane (Joan Bennett) is well liked by the townsfolk, and is being pursued by several men—though in the film's intro, she tells us that she likes trees better than men. Rufe, a scruffy sort, is feuding with Jack, a slick gambler, over Salomy. Phineas Baldwin, a mayoral candidate and supposed member of the Purity League, is planning on driving the saloon's ladies of leisure out of town, even as he eventually aggressively nuzzles Salomy though she adamantly refuses his advances. While Salomy engages in some innocent skinny dipping in the woods, she meets a handsome and gallant stranger (Charles Farrell) who is looking for Baldwin, whom he blames for driving his sister to suicide. When Baldwin assaults Salomy, the stage is set for revenge, murder, robbery, and a lynching. The biggest reason a classic movie buff might have for wanting to see this is that the young Joan Bennett is blonde (pictured with Farrell); the first sight of her this way is a bit of a shock to anyone who knows her from her later work (especially as the matriarch in Dark Shadows). Only 22 when she made this film, Bennett is surprisingly light and fizzy and quite good as the title character. Her wildness, as we discover quickly, is much more about energy and innocence and has nothing to do with sexual behavior. Charles Farrell, who could be a bit dull in romantic lead roles, is very good as the Stranger, maintaining the character's mysterious aura throughout. A youngish Ralph Bellamy is Jack and Morgan Wallace is appropriately slimy as Baldwin—his final comeuppance scene is a standout. Eugene Pallette has fun as Yuba Bill, the stagecoach driver. He is partly comic relief, though his character is important to the story. The visual style gives the whole thing a kind of fairy tale or folklore feel, and some  location shooting was done in the Sequoia National Park in California. The director is Raoul Walsh, best known for a string of 1940s movies (WHITE HEAT, HIGH SIERRA, THEY DRIVE BY NIGHT) and he gives the film a light touch even as it deals in sordid melodrama. [TCM]

KISS, KISS, KILL, KILL (1966)

As a woman sings a catchy bit of jazzy pop called "I Love You, Joe Walker," we see a long car chase that ends in violent fisticuffs between two men. But it turns out the two are American cop Joe Walker (Tony Kendell) and his beefy Interpol buddy Tom Rowland (Brad Harris), and we've just witnessed an elaborate training exercise. The two are friends but competitive and occasionally antagonistic, and both are in Yugoslavia for different reasons: Rowland is on vacation and Walker is helping a sexy purple-haired woman named Bobo hunt for her missing brother, a physicist. Soon, however, Rowland is assigned a case involving prominent businessmen who are getting blown up, and eventually the two cases meet with both men tracking down a mysterious villain named Goldfinger…er, I mean, Oberon, who has a hidden cache of radioactive gold, obtained through illegal arms deals, on a secret island hideaway. Both the disappearance of the physicist (to aid with handling the gold) and the businessman assassinations (getting rid of the men who are entitled to a cut of the gold) are the work of Oberon. He also has a small army of hypnotized blonde-wigged women—like Austin Powers' fembots—guarding his outpost. I took notes like mad while watching as I tried to keep up with the action, but after 30 minutes, I just gave up, relaxed, and enjoyed the wild antics.

This German-made film is part of the Eurospy genre of movies influenced by the international success of the James Bond movies. From what I can piece together, this is the first in a series of Kommissar X (that would be Joe Walker) movies, based loosely on books credited to a Paul F. Island (think Franklin W. Dixon, supposed author of the original Hardy Boys books which were actually written by a staff). At times, it feels like the filmmakers just shot a bunch of action scenes and fashioned a semi-coherent narrative later. But it is generally fun to watch. The two leads are handsome and confidently masculine, by which I mean they don't have to exaggerate or play down their butch qualities. Brad Harris is an American actor who found his niche in Europe, first in a couple of sword-and-sandal films (like GOLIATH AGAINST THE GIANTS and then in spy films, crime films and westerns. Tony Kendall is an Italian actor (born Luciano Stella) who had a similar career trajectory to Harris's. Kendall is suave, Harris is hunky, and they have good team chemistry. They're almost like James Bond split in two: Joe is the unflappable ladies man, Tom is the brawny man of action, though in a nice comic twist at the end, it's a buff and shirtless Tom who is surrounded by non-fembot bikinied women. At least two of the female characters have fabulous purple hair. The film's budget is considerably lower than that of the Bond films, but they still manage to have some effective fight scenes and action stunts, especially one in which Harris leaps onto a moving boat. Certainly one of the better Bond rip-offs from the era. Pictured are Kendall and Harris. [YouTube]

COCKTAIL HOUR (1933)

Cynthia Warren (Bebe Daniels) is a well-liked and well-paid illustrator who lives in a Manhattan penthouse and throws cocktail parties galore. We learn early on that she is dating Prince Philippe (Phil to his friends) but not exclusively, despite what he thinks. Phil, assuming Cynthia will marry him, has brought his mother, the Princess, to Cynthia's latest afternoon shindig to meet her, and Mom seems to realize what her son doesn't—that Cynthia will never marry him. After the party, Cynthia is on her way to the passenger liner that will take her to Europe for a vacation when she stops to chat with magazine editor Randy Morgan (Randolph Scott), with whom she shares a past. They have a discussion about the "rules of sex." He wants to marry her and have her revert back to the sweet Midwest girl she was when she came to the city, but she's not ready to settle down. He prankishly locks her in a closet to stop her from leaving, but she gets out and makes it to the ship to find that Phil and his mother have booked passage on the same ship. On the trip, Cynthia becomes great friends with the seemingly exotic Olga, who is actually Tessie from Topeka, and gets cozy with Bill Lawton (Sidney Blackmer). When the ship docks in London, Lawton admits that he's married, that his wife will be meeting him, and asks her not to make a fuss. Cynthia decides to cut things off with him. In Paris, Cynthia has to deal with Phil still hanging around, and running into Bill and his wife socially, when Randy pays a surprise visit. Things come to a head at a party where booze and hurt feelings lead to someone getting pushed out of a window.

This slight romantic melodrama is interesting, even if the somewhat rushed ending is not terribly satisfying. Cynthia begins as an independent woman who likes men and who engages in affairs but is in no rush to get married. Bebe Daniels plays her with a light touch and she remains sympathetic throughout. The situation with Prince Phil (Barry Norton) is mostly played for laughs until it's not. Jessie Ralph, as Phil's mom, is quite likable; she loves her son but knows full well that he's not likely to wind up with Cynthia, and it doesn't sour her on Cynthia. Muriel Kirkland is fizzy fun as Olga, and Sidney Blackmer is surprisingly charming as the caddish Bill—his character is portrayed mostly as misreading the "rules" of his affair with Cynthia. That leaves second-billed Randolph Scott in a throwaway role as Cynthia's "rescuerer," confined mostly to the beginning and end. Despite being a pre-Code film, Cynthia winds up learning her lesson and seemingly ready to settle for conventionality with Randy. More than watchable if perhaps a little less than memorable. Pictured are Norton, Daniels, and Blackmer. [TCM]

CLASH OF THE WOLVES (1925)

Rin Tin Tin was a canine superstar for much of the first half of the twentieth century, as big a star as Lassie became in the second half of the century. The original dog was a German shepherd who was rescued in World War I by an American soldier who brought him to the States where he became an unlikely silent movie star. He was featured in nearly thirty movies, mostly westerns and adventures, between 1922 and 1931, and is often considered something of a savior for Warner Bros. studios when they hit bad times. I remember seeing Rin Tin Tin adventures on television when I was young (in the early 1960s), but that was a different dog than the first one, who died in 1932. In fact, there were at least four dogs by that name who were featured in films, TV and publicity campaigns. This was Rinty's tenth outing so he was an old hand at acting by then. The title of this movie is a bit misleading as there is no clash whatsoever between wolves, though there is some culture clash, so to speak, between wolves and humans, and even the wolves are actually half-wolf, half-dog. 

A forest fire in the High Sierras forces a band of wolves down into the desert valley where they begin killing ranch animals, and their brave leader, Lobo (Rin Tin Tin), is targeted by the ranchers. New to town is self-described "lonely tenderfoot" Dave (Charles Farrell) who is prospecting for borax. May (June Marlowe), the daughter of a ranch owner, falls for Dave to the dismay of her father. Alkali Bill (Mack Sennett comic Charlie Conkln, credited here as Heinie Conklin) becomes a good buddy to Dave, but William Horton (Pat Hartigan), a borax appraiser, is actually a claim jumper, and when Dave brings a borax sample to Horton, he's determined to go out and find Dave's strike and take credit for it. Meanwhile, poor Lobo is injured and gets a thorn in his paw that hobbles him, and afraid of being a drag on the pack, goes off to die. Dave finds him and manages to extract the thorn, and Lobo instantly becomes domesticated. Alkali Bill uses a rubber band to put a fake bit of beard fuzz on Lobo's face so the ranchers won't get wise to his real identity, and Dave can take Lobo with him into town. The real clash in the movie is between Dave and Horton, who eventually does steal Dave's claim, and tries to steal May. But when Horton does his worst, loyal Lobo shows up and, in an effective climax, gets the wolf pack to hunt Horton down.

I'm not an expert on wolves (or dogs, for that matter), but I couldn’t believe that Lobo’s fake 'beard' could fool anyone, though it does here. But aside from that bit of silliness, the rest of the movie is enjoyable enough. The actors are all fine—Farrell does a nice job of coming off as sweet and a bit naïve but still manly and smart—but let's face it, this is Rinty’s movie all the way, and he's a damn fine animal actor (and you can plainly tell he's a he). When he's injured, he limps; when he's pissed off, he attacks; when he reunites with his mate, he's happy. His most impressive stunt occurs when he tries to climb up a slippery incline to save Dave from a sneak attack. Dave had put little lace-up boots on his paws so he wouldn't get any more thorns (see the above picture of Rinty with Farrell), but the boots make him slide down the incline, so he unlaces and shakes off his boots to effect the rescue. The story is nothing special, which I assume is the case for most of the Rin Tin Tin movies, but animal fans who don’t mind watching silent films will like this. [TCM]

ALFRED THE GREAT (1969)

In 9th century Wessex, Prince Alfred (David Hemmngs, pictured) has a vision of a united England, under one ruler and one law, written down for the first time, but wants nothing to do with governing. While Alfred is preparing to enter the priesthood, his weak brother, King Ethelred, is wounded while fighting the invading Danish Vikings and calls on Alfred for his assistance. Reluctantly, as he is against the act of killing, Alfred leads the battle and is victorious. He is pressured into a politically favorable marriage to Aelhswith (Prunella Ransome), daughter of the king of Mercia, but he refuses to sleep with her, assuming that sometime, he'll get back to the priesthood. But after Ethelred dies and Alfred is acclaimed the new king, he changes his mind and takes her by force. However, he remains opposed to killing on religious grounds, though he's not opposed to sending others into bloody battle to keep fighting the Danes. When the Danes, led by Guthrum (Michael York), get the upper hand, Alfred agrees to a truce with the Danes getting Mercia but agreeing to stay out of Wessex. They also trade hostages, and Guthrum asks for Aelhswith, who somewhat surprisingly puts up no fight. What she hasn't told Alfred is that she is pregnant, which means his heir will be brought up with the Danes. Eventually, Guthrum returns to fight in Wessex, and Alfred, who is living in the woods in a community of thieves, must decide if he will break his vow about killing in order to try and unify the lands.

This movie tries to be an epic along the lines of Lawrence of Arabia and a more intimate examination of politics, philosophy, and personal relationships, along the lines of The Lion in Winter, and though there are fine moments here and there, it doesn't come together as a satisfying whole. Ultimately, there was neither the budget nor the imagination to make the epic half come to life (though the final battle is well staged), so perhaps more focus on character and relationships would have worked to the movie's advantage. Hemmings gives a slightly eccentric performance in the title role; some critics call it campy, but it seems to me to be an exaggerated attempt to externalize Alfred's internal conflicts. I got used to him, but he's rarely presented as truly heroic or even particularly sympathetic. Michael York would seem miscast as the ruthless king of the Vikings but he is surprisingly effective. Prunella Ransome doesn't make much of an impression as Aelhswith; much better are supporting players Ian McKellen, Colin Blakely and Peter Vaughan. Ok for a one-time view, but not something I'd revisit. [YouTube]

THE STRANGE COUNTESS (1961)

Margaret (Brigitte Grothum) works as a messenger for a law firm run by Mr. Shaddle, but she is about to begin a new job as private secretary to the Countess Leonora. She's leaving an apartment she shares with a roommate named Lizzy to move into the Countess' mansion. In her last days with Lizzy, she begins to get anonymous phone calls from an apparent stalker (Klaus Kinski) who warns her she is spending her last "quiet nights on Earth." Her last task for Shaddle is to deliver some paperwork for the freeing of a prisoner named Mary Pinder, a murderer who was saved from execution many years ago because she was pregnant. One morning as she leaves her home, she is saved from a falling piece of concrete by the quick thinking of handsome Michael Dorn (Joachim Fuchsberger, pictured) who was apparently watching out for her. Later, when her car blows up, he's also there to help. Settling in with the Countess, she makes a number of new acquaintances: Selwyn is the Countess' whimsical son who fantasizes about being an actor; the distinguished Chesney is the family financial advisor; Addams is the scarred thuggish butler; Dr. Tappatt is the family physician who is also the supervisor of a nearby asylum. We soon discover that the stalker is an inmate at the asylum who makes frequent escapes. Other things we discover: Michael Dorn is a Scotland Yard man assigned to protect Margaret, and Margaret herself has some tie to the newly released Mary Pinder, who is coming to work for the Countess. Margaret may have gotten away from her stalker, but the Countess' mansion soon proves to be a very dangerous place.

This is an example of the German "krimi" genre, crime thrillers often based on the works of the prolific author Edgar Wallace, as this one is. The movie plays out a bit like an "old dark house" thriller though it's mostly brightly lit. It has clear gothic elements in its use of the main female character in a strange house, surrounded by, and perhaps menaced by, several shady people. The plot gets overly complicated but the central throughline remains easy to follow. Grothum is serviceable as the heroine and Kinski, whose role is relatively small, comes off a bit like Renfield in the Lugosi Dracula. The very handsome Fuchsberger played the hero in several of these films; he's quite good though perhaps a little less dashing than a "damsel in distress" hero should be. Eddi Arnet, who provides comic relief as Selwyn, was a popular German comedian and also a krimi regular. Lil Dagover (the Countess) is best known as the heroine of the original Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Atmospheric fun for gothic mystery buffs. [Prime Video]

MOON OVER BURMA (1940)

The Renner teak plantation in Burma is struggling, and the boss (Albert Basserman), an older blind man, relies on his two managers (Preston Foster and Robert Preston) to keep things going. They're low on funds to pay workers, leading to major delays in getting their logs shipped down the river to be sold. Foster and Preston go to Rangoon to see a banker (Frederick Worlock) about loaning them money, offering their shares of the business as collateral. In Rangoon, Preston falls for stranded nightclub singer Dorothy Lamour and brings her back to the plantation, passing her off as his bride so Basserman won't object. (Because of the Production Code, Preston and Lamour don't share a room, which leads to a humorous scene in which workers expect to see the "honeymooning" pair looking out the window of their room, but instead they see Preston and Foster, with Lamour a couple windows down.) Foster, who is dating Worlock's daughter (Doris Nolan), finds a growing attraction between him and Lamour, and when Nolan visits, she senses the love triangle. Meanwhile, Warlock schemes to take over the land by planting an employee (Addison Richards) to spread unrest, partly by scaring the workers with talk of "ghost tigers" in the jungle, then making fake tiger pawprints on the ground around the plantation. Foster and Preston catch on to the shenanigans, and the climax occurs during a rainstorm when the two managers must break a logjam on the river set up by Richards to stop the Renner logs from being delivered. This Paramount B-film is about on a level with the Warners B-films of the era, meaning it's got decent production values, an OK script, and good acting, even if almost every moment of it is predictable. The young Robert Preston is energetic and feisty and likable even though we're pretty sure he won’t get Lamour. Foster is stoic and a bit drab, but he and Preston work well together. I've never quite understood the appeal of Dorothy Lamour except as a visual symbol of exotic (even fairly vanilla) otherness, but she's fine here. Pictured above are Foster and Preston. [YouTube]

I PASSED FOR WHITE (1960)

In Chicago, Bernice, a light-skinned Black woman, is watching her jazz musician brother Chuck get his big break at the Green Cat Club. She is harassed by a white man who assumes that she's white, and this is just the latest in a series of problems she's had all her life: feeling like she doesn’t fit in either a Black or a white social world. Though she's qualified for an office job, when the interviewer finds out she's Black, she's told the best they could do for her is as an elevator operator. Bernice tells her grandmother she's going to go to New York City and live a new life "passing" as white, even though her grandma warns her that people who pass are "living behind lies." Changing her name to Lila, she boards a plane for New York and gets chatted up by white businessman Rick Leyton. It's not quite a traditional meet-cute—he buys her a cocktail but she gets airsick. However, after she lands a job at an ad agency, she reconnects with him at a cocktail party. When he finds out she loves to dance, he rents a dance studio for an hour just for them. After lots of courting and kissing, he calls her at 3 a.m. to propose marriage. She's very happy at first, but decides to keep her racial background a secret, which leads to lots of lies that she tells Rick and his well-off parents who are dying to meet her family and don't understand why no one from her side will be at the wedding—the unlikely story that her folks are in Venezuela won't stand up forever. For a while, things are fine; her Black maid Bertha finds out her secret but tells no one, though eventually both Bertha and Bernice's white friend Sally encourage her to be honest with her husband. When Bernice gets pregnant, she fears the child will be black and starts to freak out. The ending is unhappy, if not exactly tragic, and leaves little hope that Bernice will ever find a place where she feels she belongs.

In its time, I imagine this was controversial, but it lacks power today. For starters, the woman playing Bernice, Sonya Wilde, was not Black (her grandfather was Cherokee, and she occasionally played Native American roles on TV). The blondish James Franciscus is about as white a white man as you could find, which does accentuate Wilde's slightly dark complexion. The two (pictured above) are OK and even work up some believable chemistry, though Wilde's bland performance feels amateurish at times—this was her first film and her career only lasted a couple more years. The handsome Franciscus is not especially light on his feet during their dance scene, but he's always nice eye candy. Isabel Cooley (the maid) and Patricia Michon (the friend) provide good support. The title would indicate that the film was intended as drive-in exploitation, but it's all very restrained and mild, except for two scenes involving Bernice's brother (Lon Ballantyne) in which fights break out over him paying too much attention to the assumedly white Bernice. I didn't know why Bernice spun such a web of lies about her family when the easier thing would have been to just say that her parents had passed away. Dialogue that caused me to laugh: Bernice, talking about her boss who always seems on the verge of sexually harassing his staff: "He's crazy for girls"; Rick: "What's wrong with that?"; Bernice: "Nothing." (YouTube)

THE MARSHAL OF MESA CITY (1939)

Mesa City, Arizona, has become overrun by lawless scoundrels who are given free rein by their buddy, the sheriff (Leon Ames). Schoolteacher Virginia Vale, fed up with the chaos in the streets and with Ames's unwanted attentions, leaves for Yuma. When Ames's masked men hold up the stagecoach, George O'Brien, a retired marshal from Red Valley, intercedes. The stagecoach turns back for repairs, and O'Brien (who retired after cleaning up Red Valley) gets friendly with Vale and she decides to give Mesa City another chance. O'Brien plans to leave but Vale asks him to join her at a dance that night, and when Ames tries to make trouble, O'Brien stays and the mayor appoints him marshal to deal with the hooligans. His first move is to enact an ordinance banning guns in public places except for law officers. Ames, sensing trouble, sends for an old gunslinger pal (Henry Brandon) to help him get rid of O'Brien, but Brandon surprises everyone by taking the marshal's side. O'Brien deputizes Brandon so he can legally carry his gun. The bad guys start plotting in earnest to keep their status in town, but O'Brien and Brandon keep the heat on until a climactic gunfight. This efficient hour-long B-western from RKO is apparently an unofficial remake of an earlier RKO film, THE ARIZONIAN. I found this to be a notch above the norm for a couple of reasons. First, the (for me) unexpected twist of the villainous hired gun turning good (a plot point mirrored with Mongo on BLAZING SADDLES), and second, for the solid acting. O'Brien was a well-regarded silent film star, best known now for SUNRISE, who became a top western star in the talkies, and though he doesn't have a lot of personality, he's solid and commanding without being stiff and boring. Vale is fine and Ames is nicely slimy as the chief bad guy. Mary Gordon, who plays Vale's landlady, is best known as Mrs. Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes in the Basil Rathbone film series. The climax is a major gunfight but it plays out quickly and in a thick fog of smoke, maybe due to budget limitations. Still, enjoyable. Pictured are O'Brien and Brandon. [TCM]

CHINATOWN SQUAD (1935)

Import/export businessman Albert Raybold is working to help arm the Communists in China by sending them airplanes. He wears a jade ring that gives him cachet in Chinatown among important underworld figures, but the ring doesn't stop him from being murdered (with a fork in his chest) in a private booth at the Peking Café where he had just been given $70,000 dollars in cash for the airplanes. John Yee, owner of the café, finds him and steals the ring before the police arrive. Ted (Lyle Talbot) is an ex-cop who now drives a tourist bus around Chinatown, and he and a busload of folks are dining at the café when the murder occurs. He agrees to help Janet (Valerie Hobson), a woman who knew Raybold and was at the café; a day earlier, she had gotten a telegram saying Raybold had been murdered and was hoping to find some incriminating letters she had sent him. Ted includes her in his busload so she can leave the premises without police interference, but then Ted agrees to help his former cop buddies crack the case. When the cops stop the shipment of planes to China, it turns out that the planes were phony. Missing letters, missing money, and now fake weapons make this case rather sticky, but trust our cocky hero Ted to unravel all the knots and find the killer. I don't have much to say about this second-feature mystery. It's not exceptional in any way, but it satisfied my Saturday afternoon B-movie itch. Its exotic settings are used fairly well, though there are only a handful of Chinese characters and no Asian actors in the credited cast. I always like Talbot's breezy way as a B-lead and he's fine here. The British Hobson, best known as Dr. Frankenstein’s wife in Bride of Frankenstein, is OK, but Andy Devine, as Raybold's semi-comic relief secretary, got on my nerves. The cops bumble along, and Talbot outdoes them at each turn. Apparently in the 1960s this was part of Universal’s horror film package for TV but there is nothing even vaguely horrific about it; it's a light crime thriller all the way. Pictured are Talbot and Hobson. [YouTube]

UNDER THE YUM-YUM TREE (1963)

Edie Adams is a psychology professor; Carol Lynley, her niece, is in Adams' class on marriage. Lynley and her boyfriend (Dean Jones) are fighting their natural desires to have sex, and she is fighting his urge to get married—as they make out under a tree on campus, she says to him, "I won’t be lobbied into marriage by overstimulated glands!" So Lynley has an idea: she wants to move in with Jones on a strictly platonic basis to see how compatible they are before they jump into marriage. As it happens, Adams is moving out of her apartment complex where she has been involved in a casual affair with the scuzzy landlord (Jack Lemmon), who only rents to single beautiful girls. Lynley takes the place and Lemmon is ready for another conquest, but when he discovers Jones' presence, he becomes even more determined to have Lynley. What follows is a series of scenes alternating between Jones being horny and frustrated; Jones and Lynley arguing; and Lemmon trying to sneak a peek inside to make sure they're still platonic, encouraging Jones to do things like throw himself into athletic activity to channel his carnal desires. Finally, the stage is set for the climax, if you will, in which Jones brings home some mescal for a romantic dinner so he can get Lynley drunk and consummate their relationship—but not if Lemmon can stop it.

You may be able to tell from my summary that this is a one-note sex comedy with a laser focus on "will they or won’t they?" Actually, that's not quite accurate. Had it been only that situation, the movie might have been a little more bearable. But Jack Lemmon's sour, unsympathetic, reprehensible character sinks the movie for me. Lynley and Jones make for an attractive and likable pair of horny kids, though the teasing that Lynley does (in theory without realizing it) is a bit much. Adams is fine, and the comic pairing of Imogene Coca and Paul Lynde as a married couple who do work around the complex is fine. But Jack Lemmon's occasional tendency to chew the scenery is indulged constantly, and by 45 minutes in, I was tempted to bail. There is nothing sympathetic about his character, and had Jones killed him in cold blood, I would have called that a happy ending. Robert Lansing plays Adams' current beau, and a very young Bill Bixby has a one-minute part. The title, which is never spoken but may refer to the tree under which we see Lynley and Jones kissing in the beginning, comes from a one-time reference Lemmon makes to sex as "yum-yum." The sets are stagy but nice; I especially love the apartments of Lynley (spacious and modern and multi-level) and Lemmon (lurid and deep red). I realize that in a sex farce, character development is not primary, but I had a hard time buying the Adams and Lemmon relationship—she seems way too brainy to be attracted to him. I would recommend this as a 60s period piece, reflecting the changing morality of the times, and for the lively performances of Lynley and Jones (pictured). Also for the appearance of Orangey, the famous and well-trained movie cat known best for his important role in Breakfast at Tiffany's. [DVD]

TIME OUT FOR RHYTHM (1941)

Harvard educated Danny (Rudy Vallee) and small-time talent agent Mike (Richard Lane) are standing at the bar of the Zodiac Club critiquing singer Frances Lewis (Rosemary Lane). Danny thinks he can help her become a better singer and Mike, who has a crush on her, thinks he can build her into a headliner, so the two join forces and do exactly that, with Frances becoming the first name in the roster of the talent agency they form. Frances becomes a star and marries a millionaire, leaving lovesick Mike behind. Years later, Frances, now divorced and looking to make a comeback, looks Mike up and re-ignites their romance, hoping that she can be the star of a new TV extravaganza that Mike and Danny are producing. But Danny has promised up-and-coming singer Kitty Brown (Ann Miller, pictured at left), former maid to Frances, that the show, with a big Hollywood agent in attendance, will be a showcase for her. Danny, irritated by Frances' demands, tries to sabotage her chances, and when Mike finds out, they split up. Can anything get these two friends back together? And will Kitty get the break she deserves?

The basic plot of this B-musical is right out of the 1930s (42nd Street, the Gold Diggers movies) though the narrative is gossamer thin, with the emphasis here on music and comedy. On that level, this works pretty well. Ann Miller dances up her usual storm to "A-Twiddlin' My Thumbs," singer Joan Merrill (playing herself) does a nice rendition of the title tune, and the musical highlight is "The Boogie Woogie Man," a mini-Busby Berkeley number sung by Pee Wee Hunt. One of my favorite supporting players of the classic era, Allen Jenkins, plays a pianist and gets a rare chance to dance and sing (with Ann Miller), and does a fine job. Vallee is a little too low-key but Lane has some good energy and the two work together well. The Three Stooges are present, and though I do not count myself as a fan, they were enjoyable here in small doses. At one point as they're trying to pose as bad guys, someone asks, "These men are gangsters?" and Vallee replies, "They're not even men." I also quite enjoyed the comic duo of Cobina and Brenda, two wacky secretaries played by Elvia Allman (who had recurring roles on Petticoat Junction and The Beverly Hillbillies) and Blanche Stewart. The character names come from two famous socialites of the day, and while their humor is not subtle, I found it quite funny, though others may not (lots of face-pulling and man-hungry attitude). In the land of 40s B-musicals, this is a nice standout. [DVD]

FACE OF THE FROG (1959)

Lord Farnsworth and his wife are awakened in the night by odd sounds. Lady Farnsworth thinks it's frogs croaking outside but when she investigates, she sees it's actually a man in a frog mask breaking into their safe and getting away with her jewels. Inspector Hedge of Scotland Yard is stymied so his cocky American nephew Richard Gordon (Joachim Fuchsberger) decides he might be of service, but Hedge is relying on one of his men, Higgins, who has infiltrated the large underworld gang that follows the orders of The Frog; unfortunately, Higgins is found out and disposed of. The Frog has ordered his men to keep an eye on the children of John Bennett, Ray and Ella, and they are told to kill anyone who hangs around Ella too much. Eventually, stray clues in the case bring Richard to visit the Bennetts and, sure enough, as he strolls with Ella, he gets shot at but escapes injury and kicks the attacker's ass. The would-be killer has the stamp of the Frog on his wrist, and is carted off to prison, though he feels certain that an Frog gang member on the inside that he identifies as Number Seven will spring him. Indeed, a trusted policeman turns out to be a Frog spy and frees him. The plot machinations are just beginning to churn: Ray Bennett, a useless would-be playboy, gets a job at the Lolita nightclub and cozies up to Lolita herself; a blind beggar just happens to be around when Frog gang events are happening; someone creeps into Ella's room and freaks her out; Richard suspects that Harry Lime is involved—yes, that seems to the villainous Harry Lime who is played by Orson Welles in the noir classic THE THIRD MAN; there's a death by gassing, a kidnapping, and a gun fight or two before the Frog is unmasked.

I've become a fan of these German krimi films despite (or maybe a little bit because of) their overstuffed and confusing plots, their large casts of characters, and the constant red herrings thrown in our path. Some viewers go so far as to call this film a bit surreal, though I wouldn't go that far. Unlike some other krimi films, this one is less like a gothic melodrama and more like an urban crime movie. Even when I got lost in the wild and wooly incidents, I could still keep some semblance of order in my head about the main plot. Usually considered the first in the krimi genre, this also established Joachim Fuchsberger as the reliable but unexciting hero. I like him very much, and though he plays different characters in each film, he has the same look and same traits in each movie, and as a fairly calm center in the storm of twists and turns, he helps ground the story a bit. Good old reliable Eddi Arent is the sidekick, and supporting cast standouts include Walter Wilz as Ray, Erwin Strahl as a cop named Barclay, and Eva Pflug as Lolita. The damsels in distress are pretty interchangeable in these movies, and Eva Anthese is a little colorless as Ella. Recommend because it's kooky fun. Pictured are Fuchsberger and Arent. Also known as Fellowship of the Frog. [YouTube]

THE SCREAMING SKULL (1958)

Eric brings his new wife Jenni to his family estate which has been shut up for a couple of years, though it has been kept up by the gardener, Mickey, a mentally handicapped young man. The newlyweds have both gone through rough times: Eric's first wife Marion died during a storm by slipping on a wet leaf, hitting her head and drowning in a pond on the estate; Jenni was a witness to both her parents drowning in a boating accident and she had a breakdown, winding up in an asylum for a time. Eric fears she's still a little fragile and enlists the help of his friend and neighbor the Reverend Snow and his wife to help keep an eye on her. A couple of complicating bits of backstory: Eric's first wife Marion was wealthy—the estate belonged to her—and Jenni also comes from money; Mickey the gardener was particularly close to Marion and has never really accepted that she's dead. Despite the best efforts of Eric and the Snows, Jenni starts freaking out pretty quickly: 1) she's certain that she hears Marion's ghost wandering the house at night; 2) she's disturbed by a huge portrait of Marion that still hangs in the house; 3) the unearthly cries of the peacocks who live on the estate startle her. Then a creepy skull, that others don't seem to see, starts cropping up in weird places.

This B-thriller will remind you at various times of movies like REBECCA (the possibly sinister influence of the first wife) and GASLIGHT (is Mickey, resentful of the new mistress of the house, trying to drive Jenny back to the asylum?). Though there is promise in the plot, the low budget, sloppy writing, and variable acting work against it. The big house has almost no furniture—it's all supposedly still in storage—which makes me think the producers just found a big empty house to use, but actually the sparse settings wind up working well. The character of Mickey (played by the film's director Alex Nicol) is poorly conceived and not terribly well acted. John Hudson (as Eric), Russ Conway (Rev. Snow) and Toni Johnson (Mrs. Snow; the actor's name is misspelled in the credits) are pretty good, but Peggy Webber as Jenni gives a disappointing two-note performance—she's either on the verge of going crazy or she's blandly passive. The title skull is not very scary. We expect there to be rational explanations for the haunting, and there are, but at the climax things take an odd turn toward the supernatural, which in a better written script might have worked well. This American International release opens with a William Castle-like gimmick, offering to pay for the coffin of any who dies of shock during the movie. Not gonna happen. Pictured are Hudson and Webber. [DVD]

LE MARIAGE DE CHIFFON (1942)

In 1904, on a dark Paris street, a 16-year old girl named Corysande, known as Chiffon by her family, loses a shoe while dashing about in the rain. The Duc d'Aubières, a colonel considerably older than Chiffon, is taken with her and, in a nod to the Cinderella story, grabs her shoe out of the street, apparently intending to return it and begin a relationship. He begins courting her, much to the delight of her mother, as he is an aristocrat, but Chiffon is taken with the younger De Bray, a head-in-the-clouds dreamer who is trying to build his own biplane, and who is her uncle (by marriage, as is constantly pointed out, as he is the brother of Chiffon's stepfather). This turns into a mildly risqué romantic comedy of manners where, despite the proto-feminist feelings of Chiffon and much talk of immorality (Chiffon playfully confesses to an "affair" with the Colonel, though nothing untoward actually happens between them), things remain fairly traditional and the ending is never in doubt. Directed by Claude Autant-Lara during the German occupation, this is high-class escapist fare, set in what was the recent past and  untroubled by the shadows of the war. It's competently made with some mild stylistic touches here and there—perhaps inspired by the comedies of Ernst Lubitsch. Odette Joueux, who was almost 30, plays Chiffon and does a nice job, though perhaps thankfully she's nothing like a teenager; that might be too creepy for today's viewers. I enjoyed the performance of Jacques Dumesnil as De Bray—he comes off as clueless and sort of accidentally charming. André Luguet is fine as the Colonel. I saw this on a Saturday afternoon and by Sunday evening, it had largely left my mind, but that's what we sometimes want on a Saturday afternoon. Pictured are Joyeux and Dumesnil. [DVD]

LURE OF THE WILDERNESS (1952) / SWAMP WATER (1941)

Usually when I review an original film and a remake, I consider the original the basic beginning point and reference the remake from that film, but in this case, I saw LURE first and SWAMP a few days later, so since LURE feels like the base to me, I’ll start with that. In 1910 in the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia, Ben (Jeffrey Hunter) and his father Zack (Tom Tully) are part of a search party looking for two trappers who disappeared into the dangerous swamp, full of alligators and cottonmouth snakes. Ben's hunting dog Careless jumps out of the canoe and into the swamp, and that night, against his father's orders, Ben takes off into the swamp to look for the dog. He finds the dog, but is then knocked unconscious. When Ben comes to, he finds he is being held prisoner by fugitive Jim Harper (Walter Brennan), who has been in hiding in the swamp because of a murder rap from years ago, and his daughter Laurie (Jean Peters). Laurie wants to kill Ben to prevent him from bringing the law in after them, but Ben promises he won't. Jim insists that one of the killings was in self-defense, but the other one was committed by the lowlife Longden brothers. Ben stays with them for a whole and, despite Laurie's attitude, Jim can see that an attraction might develop. Taking their side, Ben decides to do some trapping with Jim, and sell the pelts in town to raise money for a lawyer for Jim. But when Ben gets back to town, things get complicated: Zack kicks him out of the house, and Ben winds up torn between his gal Noreen and his swamp gal Laurie. The Longden brothers figure out what's going on and pile on Ben, practically drowning him in the river until Zack saves him and son and father are reconciled. But when Jim and Laurie start to doubt Ben's intentions, it's unclear if justice will be done or if Ben and Laurie can make it together in civilization. Pictured are Peters and Hunter.

Though no masterpiece, this is an enjoyable backwoods melodrama, with nice use of Technicolor and effective location shooting in and around the swamp. The outrageously handsome Jeffrey Hunter, who might seem too lightweight for the lead, is quite good, and given that he is in almost every scene, carries the film well. Brennan doesn't stray far from his rural persona, Peters is a bit on the bland side but works well with Hunter, and the rest of the cast more or less fades into the background, with Jack Elam recognizable as one of the brutal Longden brothers. The 1941 version, from acclaimed director Jean Renoir, is visually more artfully done, in moody black & white, and features Walter Brennan as the same character (named Tom here). A young Dana Andrews is Ben—he's not as good-looking or as confident as Hunter but he's fine. Anne Baxter bests Jean Peters as the daughter (named Julie), though the character is presented differently; here, she has not gone into the swamp with her father, but instead lives in town, taken care of by the general store owner. Walter Huston delivers his usual commanding performance as Ben's father, with their reconciliation scene carrying a bit more emotional weight here. Ward Bond and Guinn Williams are effective as the villainous brothers. There was apparently some location shooting in the Okefenokee for this version. Here, the dog's name is Trouble, and there is a melodramatic subplot involving John Carradine as a slimy fellow who is out to court Huston's wife. Parts of LURE are shot-for-shot reproductions of scenes in SWAMP WATER, and SWAMP is definitely the more atmospheric film, but LURE has its considerable pleasures. Pictured at left is Andrews entering the swamp. [Criterion Channel]

FIND THE BLACKMAILER (1943)

Rhodes, the reform-minded candidate for mayor (Gene Lockhart) comes to see private eye D.L Trees (Jerome Cowan), partly because he's not well-known (and consequently not busy). Rhodes wants Trees to track down a talking crow—great hook for the plot, huh? Here goes: Rhodes is engaged to Dorothy, sister to ex-con Fred Molnar, but she doesn't know that he spent time in jail, and Rhodes helped hide that from her. Now, Molnar is trying to blackmail Rhodes or else he'll spill the beans about his own past. Apparently worried that Rhodes might try to have him killed (because Rhodes, in a moment of anger, threatened exactly that), Molnar has trained his pet crow to say "Don’t kill me, Rhodes!" Rhodes knows that Molnar has plenty of enemies and if he winds up dead, Rhodes will be fingered. Trees takes the goofy case, and when he goes to see Molnar, Molnar is already dead, in a room with a camera on a tripod and a broken flash bulb near the body. A small cast of suspicious characters soon presents itself: a bookie named Page whom Molnar cheated out of $30,000; Hickey, Molnar's bodyguard, who was found unconscious in the kitchen; Molnar's hotsy-totsy mistress who may have been involved with the blackmail scheme; Molnar's lawyer who may be awfully cozy with the mistress. There's also the cops and Trees' secretary who is desperate for her back pay, and let's not forget Jimmy the Crow, who has his own little secret.

Like most Warner Bros. B-movies of the era, this has good production values, a fairly strong cast, and a short running time. It also has an overstuffed plot that starts to fall apart as soon as you give it any thought, though I must admit I liked the final reveal about the crow. But the fast pace doesn't give you much time to reflect on the plotting, and the light tone allows you to sit back and enjoy the shenanigans. Cowan, the short-lived Miles Archer in THE MALTESE FALCON and the unpopular prosecutor in MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET, didn't get many leads but he's fine here and he has a good rapport with Lockhart, one of Hollywood's best character actors (and who played the judge opposite Cowan's lawyer in MIRACLE). Faye Emerson gets second billing as the mistress, but Marjorie Hoshelle as Pandora, Trees' secretary and possible love interest, should have had second billing. John Harmon and Robert Kent deserve mention as the bodyguard and the lawyer. Pictured are Cowan, Kent and Lockhart. [DVD]

THUNDER ON THE HILL (1951)

In rural England, a storm has caused dangerous flooding, and people are trudging uphill to take refuge at Our Lady of Rheims hospital and convent. Sister Mary Bonaventure (Claudette Colbert) is in charge and, though generally well-respected, at least one woman, Nurse Phillips, feels she is too rule-bound, and holds her responsible for the suicide of Sister Mary's sister (a plot point that is never really clarified). Among the refugees is Isabel Jeffreys, the fragile wife of Dr. Edward Jeffreys, and Valerie Carns, a prisoner being transported to her execution after being found guilty of killing her brother. She is alternately sad and bitter and her complicated backstory comes out. Her brother Jason led a dissolute life and suffered a stroke at a young age. Under the care of Dr. Jeffreys, he lingered for some time before his death when poison was administered to him in his medicine. Valerie had access to his medicine and had voiced the opinion that Jason would be better off dead. With everyone stuck on the hill until the flood waters recede, Sister Mary, feeling a certain empathy with Valerie (blamed for the death of a loved one), discovers newspaper articles about the case and begins to think that Valerie might indeed be innocent. Over the course of the night, hidden secrets are revealed and Sister Mary finds herself targeted by someone who might be the guilty party.

An early Dougas Sirk movie, this is an enjoyable melodrama with a nice Gothic feel. Colbert is not my favorite classic-era actress—she always strikes me as a bit of a cold fish. Here, that feeling could work for the character, but she seems to fight it, as though unwilling to have Sister Mary come off as too unsympathetic. Ann Blyth is a bit too shallow as Valerie, trying on a variety of actorly styles to keep us uncertain as to how we should feel about the character. But neither performance detracts too much from the film, partly because there are several very good supporting performances here. The fabulous Gladys Cooper is the Mother Superior; Phyllis Stanley is bracing as the unpleasant Nurse Phillips; Robert Douglas is very good as Dr. Jeffreys, and Anne Crawford is suitably nervous (and unreadable) as his wife. The always welcome Connie Gilchrist has a small but important role, and Norma Varden, Michael Pate. Philip Friend and John Abbott fill out other small roles nicely. The film's visual style definitely conjures up a Gothic atmosphere, and William Daniels' cinematography is splendid. Things build slowly to a dramatic climax and a satisfying ending. Pictured are Blyth and Colbert. [Criterion Channel]

THE DAUGHTER OF DAWN (1920)

This western, filmed in Oklahoma, is the only known silent movie made with an all Native American cast, featuring members of the Comanche and Kiowa tribes. It centers on a traditional love triangle (actually involving four people) The title character is the daughter of the Kiowa chief. It's time for her to marry, and Black Wolf, a bit of a shady character but considered a good catch as he has many horses, asks the chief for her hand. But the chief wants to allow her to pick her own husband and she is in love with White Eagle, less well off but more wholesome. The fourth figure is Red Wing who has a thing for Black Wolf, even though he ignores her. White Eagle clearly has the inside track, as we see when he and Daughter of Dawn take a romantic moonlight canoe ride, watched jealously by both Black Wolf and Red Wing. The chief soon sets up a courage test: to win Daughter of Dawn, the two men must jump from the top of a hill with the survivor winning. White Eagle leaps and is injured but survives; Black Wolf chickens out of the jump and is expelled from the tribe. Meanwhile, a group of Comanches is plotting to steal Kiowa horses and to eventually raid the Kiowa village. Guess who betrays his people by helping in the raid? Direction by Norbert A. Myles (who later settled into a career as a Hollywood make-up artist) is serviceable, as is the acting, with White Parker the standout as White Eagle. What was interesting to me was how much the actors used their fingers and hands in addition to speech in communicating with each other, which I assume was a hallmark of the way the tribes actually communicated. The actors provided their own costumes and settings. I don’t know how realistic the storyline was, but the ending is nicely melodramatic in a traditional Hollywood fashion. At 80 minutes, the pace drags occasionally but this is worth a viewing. Pictured are White Parker (White Eagle) and Esther LeBarre (Daughter of Dawn). [Criterion Channel]