SIDE STREET (1929)

A primitive early talkie, shot like an especially static stage play, with a predictable family melodrama plotline. It features three acting brothers, Matt, Tom, and Owen Moore, fairly well known in silent pictures, in their only film together. I'm not sure that's reason enough for the average film buff to search this one out, but if you accept its limitations, it's just on the right side of watchable. The three boys are Irish-American brothers: Matt is a doctor whose career is on the rise, Tom is a traffic cop, and Owen, as far as his family knows, is a successful businessman who is usually too busy to visit, but we find out that he's actually a notorious bootlegger who operates under an assumed name (Barney). Tom is sweet on nice Irish girl Katherine Perry, who happens to meet "Barney" at a party, unaware at the time of his double identity. However, in the aftermath of the party, Matt arrives to care for a thug who was injured in a mini-brawl and he recognizes his brother. He agrees to keep quiet, but eventually Tom is promoted to detective and is assigned to track down "Barney." Things start to unravel at the family Thanksgiving dinner when Perry recognizes Owen as "Barney" and Owen puts out a hit on the cop who's after him, not knowing it's his own brother. The climax is fairly strong but loses some power due to incoherent overlapping dialogue delivered over the mortally wounded body of one of the characters. Most of the film takes place in Ma (Emma Dunn) and Pa's (Frank Sheridan) homey apartment during dinners and family gatherings, and the apartment set looks like it's on an actual theater stage. The Moores are all fine, with Tom the most expressive and Matt a little wooden. There is no background music at all, which I'm used to in movies from the early sound era, but it was a bit startling that there wasn't even any music during the opening credits. There is, however, a short musical number performed at Barney's party which features an uncredited George Raft. (Picture is of Matt, Owen, and Tom Moore, from Goldensilents.com) [TCM]

THE PUBLIC DEFENDER (1931)

Behind that drab title is a fun little B-thriller, not about a lawyer, but about a vigilante who goes after the men responsible for the crash of a bank and the destruction of the bank president's good name. Richard Dix plays Pike Winslow (great name!), a rich young man who, under the name The Reckoner and with two associates (Boris Karloff and Paul Hurst), goes about righting wrongs in cases where the legal system can't, and leaving his calling card behind. When the above mentioned bank president is set up by his board members to the take the fall for the closing of their bank, Dix goes about getting evidence against the dastardly villains. There's a somewhat complicated love interest: the bank president's daughter, Shirley Grey, has been in love with the slightly older Dix since she was a child, though it takes him most of the running time of the movie to figure this out. The cops aren't sure what to make of the Reckoner as he goes about collecting evidence (not always legally) until one of the board members is found dead with a Reckoner card in the vicinity--of course, it wasn't Dix but someone trying to frame the Reckoner (and get rid of a board member who was ready to crack), so his vigilantism becomes even harder to pull off. Nevertheless, Dix prevails and the film climaxes with an exciting chase scene. The general situation of the Reckoner reminded me of the Scarlet Pimpernel (a playboy who secretly works for the underdog) and Doc Savage (a hero and his associates vs. murderous bad guys). I’m not usually impressed with Dix's sound work; even though he was only in his 40's during the first decade of the sound era, he always seems a bit lumpy and over the hill, but he does a fine job here. Karloff doesn't get a chance to do too much, but it's nice seeing him as a good guy. [TCM]

ISLAND OF DOOMED MEN (1940)

Peter Lorre owns an island on which he operates a secret diamond mine; his workers are ex-cons and parolees to whom he promises good, rehabilitating work, but who become virtual slaves. G-man Robert Wilcox agrees to take on a "Mission: Impossible"-type case to catch Lorre, but as he’s getting briefed on the facts of the case by a fellow agent, the agent is killed and Wilcox is arrested and sent to prison, insisting he's innocent but refusing to mount a defense, obviously hoping to get inside Lorre's operation. Sure enough, Lorre, who was behind the killing, knows Wilcox is an agent and, when he comes up for parole, Lorre takes him to the island as a worker. Wilcox, told by a fellow slave that there's no escape until you die and "get paroled in a pine box," tries to get the prisoners on his side for a revolt, but the presence of Lorre's unhappy wife (Rochelle Hudson), who is also being held prisoner, complicates matters.

This Columbia B-thriller is a kind of cross between a Devil's Island penal colony melodrama and H.G. Wells' "Island of Dr. Moreau"--the title is a steal from the 1932 Island of Lost Souls, an early version of Moreau. The best thing about the movie is Lorre as the slimy sadist who enjoys seeing his men get whipped (and who also seems to get a sexual charge out of threatening to whip his wife). Wilcox is handsome and capable as the hero, with Hudson fine as the lovely, scared heroine. There are a handful of familiar supporting faces, best of whom is George E. Stone (Runt, the sidekick in the Boston Blackie movies) as the houseboy who has a pet monkey which comes to an unfortunate end via Lorre; Stone's desire for revenge plays a crucial role in the climax. If this had been a Warner Brothers B-movie, it would have been a bit glossier and better paced, but Lorre, Wilcox, and Hudson make it worth watching. [TCM]

BIG BROWN EYES (1936)

This undistinguished crime comedy features Cary Grant at a point in his career when he was established as a name but quite yet as a star. He was a headliner, but mostly in B-films like this one, though he would hit the A-list in the next two years, with TOPPER, THE AWFUL TRUTH and BRINGING UP BABY. Here, he plays a police detective who is working to solve the theft of some jewels from wealthy Marjorie Gateson. His girlfriend, cocky manicurist Joan Bennett, is jealous of his attentions to her, throws a fit at her salon, and is fired. Walter Pidgeon is an insurance investigator also working on the case who tries to buy Bennett's affections; he is also a crook who is connected to the theft (along with underlings Lloyd Nolan and Douglas Fowley). When things go wrong among the thieves, Nolan gets in a shootout and accidentally kills a baby in a carriage—a startling scene even now, seventy years on. Grant figures out that the killing and the theft are connected, and Bennett, who rather improbably snags a job as a reporter thanks to an editor friend, winds up helping Grant catch the crooks. There is a nifty trick Bennett plays in which she plants a story that one of the captured suspects (Fowley) has squealed; she has Grant free Fowley then scares him into thinking that his cohorts are coming after him, leading him to race back to the cops and give a confession. The low budget is obvious due to the numerous montages of close-ups of people delivering exposition. Grant is OK, but his heart wasn't in the mild material, a lame attempt at getting Paramount into "Thin Man" territory. Bennett is also OK, though she sounds like she's doing a Jean Harlow imitation. So-so stuff, not terrible but not required viewing. [TCM]

MURDER AT THE VANITIES (1934)

The latest edition of Earl Carroll's Vanities, a Ziegfeld Follies-type Broadway revue, is about to open. Stage manager Jack Oakie has his hands full getting all the acts on and off the stage in a timely fashion. His leading man (Carl Brisson) and lady (Kitty Carlisle) have just announced their engagement, triggering jealousy in chorus girl Gertrude Michael, who until recently had been sleeping with Brisson, who has hired a private eye to recover some things she had stolen from him, including evidence that Brisson's dresser (Jesse Ralph) is actually his mother, who is wanted for killing a man in Vienna many years ago. When it seems like someone is out to cause a nasty accident for Carlisle, the police are called in, but it's the private eye who winds up dead up in the rafters, dripping blood onto a naked showgirl at the end of a number. Oakie talks the cops into letting the show go on while they investigate. After another death and several racy musical numbers, the villain is uncovered.

This is notorious among pre-Code movies; released just months before the Production Code went into effect, it has naked women (strategically covering themselves with their hands), near-naked women (in skimpy outfits), a character who gets away with murder, and a song about the pleasures of "Sweet Marijuana." The songs are done like Busby Berkeley production numbers, but more realistically, actually fitting on a theater stage, and they're all fun. There's a number that features dancing girls using feather fans to portray ocean waves which occasionally disgorge a woman onto an island shore. Weirdest of all is "Rape of a Rhapsody" in which Liszt plays his Hungarian Rhapsody, then is forced to yield the stage to Duke Ellington and his band who play something called "Ebony Rhapsody"; the bit climaxes with a man coming on stage and gunning everyone down! Oakie, who says "Judas H. Priest!" every five minutes, is fine as the center of the whirlwind (the movie moves at a very fast clip, taking place almost in real time). Victor McLaglan is unmemorable as the cop who keeps one eye peeled to appreciate the underdressed chorus girls all around him. Gail Patrick and Donald Meek are among the supporting players. Good fun all around. Available on the Universal Pre-Code Hollywood boxed set. [DVD]

THE CHEAT (1931/1915)

Harvey Stephens is a businessman on the verge of making a big deal that will make him rich, but until then, he has to warn his wife, Talullah Bankhead, about her reckless spending. Unfortunately, one night at a charity party, Bankhead overhears adventurer Irving Pichel talk about luck and takes that as a sign that she'll be lucky at the gambling tables, but she winds up losing $10,000. Pichel, just back from the Orient, takes Bankhead home to see his collection of dolls, representing former lovers, all of which are branded with his symbol of possession. He's a little scary but she seems titillated, though the evening ends with no hanky-panky; however, at another charity ball, Bankhead agrees to wear an elaborate Oriental dress loaned to her by Pichel. Soon, Bankhead, who has been entrusted with $10,000 of charity money, uses the cash on a sure-thing stock tip, hoping to make enough to pay her debt, but loses, so now she's out $20,000. She finally gives in to Pichel, agreeing to take money from him in exchange for sex, but when her husband's deal goes through, making them rich, she tries to pull herself out of Pichel's perverse web. When she won't have sex with him, he brands her on the breast; she shoots him, though doesn't kill him, and her husband tries to take the rap for her. But a scandalous event in the courtroom changes the outcome.

This pre-Code melodrama, which I saw as part of the Universal Pre-Code Hollywood Collection, is a remake of a silent film by Cecil B. DeMille which I caught on TCM just a couple weeks after seeing this version. The 1931 film is slow going, worth seeing mostly because of Bankhead. A legendary performer on the stage (and as a wit and raconteur), she only made a handful of movies--though not long before her death, she appeared as a villainess on the 60's Batman TV series. She's OK here, though I can’t help but think that Claudette Colbert or even the pre-Code Norma Shearer would have been better. Pichel is fine, appropriately oozing decadence throughout, though he suffers by comparison with the leading man in the DeMille film.

The silent film, from 1915, has the same plot line, with one important difference: the adventurer is a Burmese ivory merchant, played by Sessue Hayakawa, which adds what would have been, in 1915, a distinct frisson of forbidden miscegenation--and apparently in the first release, he was identified as Japanese, but because of protests, his character got a different name and nationality in a 1918 re-release, which is the version which exists today. This is a half-hour shorter than the sound film but it's also the better version. Hayakawa is an ardent companion of the wife (Fanny Ward) from the beginning, and he's a stronger figure than Pichel is. For a film that is almost 100 years old, it still plays well. There is some nice stuff done with darkness and light, especially in two scenes which involve shadows behind a paper screen. Some of the acting, especially by Ward, is full of the big gestures and eye-rolling histrionics that mar silent films for today's viewers, but Hayakawa is excellent. I'm glad to have seen both. [DVD/TCM]

SEARCH FOR BEAUTY (1934)

Two con artists (Robert Armstrong and Gertrude Michael), fresh out of jail, start a new scam: they buy a washed-up physical fitness magazine and re-launch it as basically a skin magazine, with near-naked pictures and racy stories. Along with a former partner in crime (James Gleason), they rope in two Olympic athletes (American Buster Crabbe and British Ida Lupino) to front the magazine. With a highly-publicized contest to find the healthiest men and women in the world, the magazine is a success. Crabbe figures out what’s going on and realizes he can't get out of his contract, so he and Lupino negotiate to get their hands on a moribund health farm that came as part of the magazine deal. They get the place in shape, get the contest winners to work there as health instructors, and the place is a hit. When the publishers arrive, intending to get some relaxation among the beautiful people, Crabbe and Lupino force them to participate fully in the exercise routines and wind up in full control of the farm.

This comedy is a pre-Code treat; even as the skin-peddlers are presented as the bad guys, the movie’s main attraction is the near-naked flesh, both male and female, of the athletes and contest winners, including a brief scene of full-behind nudity in the men's locker room. Apparently the studio, Paramount, actually did hold a contest to find the, um, healthy young folks featured in the farm sequences, then put them in form-fitting exercise outfits that show off plenty of leg and butt and crotch and nipple. Speaking of which, there is a very funny moment early on with Gertrude Michael ogling Crabbe's package through her binoculars. Crabbe, who won a gold medal at the 1932 Olympics and went on to fame as Tarzan and Flash Gordon, is essentially playing a version of himself; he has an odd accent and seems a bit stiff, but does the wholesome but sly persona well. There's a stage show bit called "Symphony of Health" which is the movie's first excuse for showing off lots of flesh; the second excuse is the amusing climactic sequence in which the staff drag all the guests out of bed at the crack of dawn to exercise. One of the gems on the Universal "Pre-Code Hollywood Collection" boxed set. [DVD]

JEANNE EAGELS (1957)

This Hollywood biopic is about a popular stage actress of the 20's (played by Kim Novak) who was just beginning a career in sound films when she died at 35, due to years of alcohol and drug abuse. The film opens with Novak as a teenager, having entered a traveling carnival beauty contest thinking it's been rigged for her to win. When she loses, the carnival boss (Jeff Chandler) gives her a job and falls in love with her. They head to New York where he goes into business with his brother at Coney Island and she works her way up the acting ladder, getting befriended by acting teacher Agnes Moorehead. To secure a starring role in a production of "Rain," she tricks an alcoholic has-been actress (Virginia Grey) out of the part; when the play is a hit, Grey kills herself. Novak begins a dalliance with Charles Drake, a former Princeton golden-boy athlete. The two marry and she goes on tour with "Rain," but she develops a drinking problem and starts missing shows. Years pass and her various antics get her in trouble with Actors' Equity. Her husband, also a drunk and upset over being called Mr. Eagels, leaves her. Chandler comes back into her life but she soon turns to drugs to get on stage, and in the grand Hollywood melodrama fashion, it's all downhill from there.

Novak isn't bad in the first part, but she overdoes the conniving bitch stuff, and soon it feels like she's doing a bad Norma Desmond imitation (in a patently artificial gruff voice, perhaps as a way to physicalize her years of drug abuse). I've always found Chandler a little too weird looking for a leading man, though he's just passable here. Drake is good, and Grey is even better. Gene Lockhart and Murray Hamilton have small roles. The script takes the usual liberties with Eagels' real story, collapsing some ten years into no time at all, and the production code of the time wouldn't let the filmmakers be more candid about the actress's drug use, which the viewer must more or less dope out for himself. Not one of Novak's finer moments, though it's interesting to see a 50's take on a 20's tragedy. [TCM]

CAPTAIN APPLEJACK (1931)

Ambrose Applejohn (John Halliday) lives in his family's 100-year-old seaside mansion with his young ward Poppy, his aging Aunt Agatha, and his butler Lush; he has decided to put the big house up for sale because he's bored and, hoping for adventure, wants to see the world, which upsets his aunt ("An Applejohn wanting to see things," she cries in disbelief). One stormy night, a mysterious woman named Valeska comes rushing in and, in an outrageously artificial Russian accent, claims she needs help hiding from a burly pursuer who is after her jewels. Soon, a vaudeville mystic named Zoroaster and his female companion arrive, claiming their car has died. By the time the pursuing Russian brute arrives, it's clear that no one is quite what they seem. Sure enough, the strangers are two rival groups of burglars who are after a rumored treasure hidden somewhere in the house, and Ambrose winds up getting a solid dose of adventure without leaving his estate.

This early sound film suffers from some static direction and stilted performances early on, but eventually becomes a rather fun romp, given that it all rather stagily takes place on a handful of sets. Based on a play, it reminded me of another early talkie play adaptation, Seven Keys to Baldpate, also about a somewhat befuddled man, a big dark house, and a bunch of odd intruders, though the two films have very different endings (in Baldpate, the whole thing is a put-on; here, there is real skullduggery afoot). Supporting actor Halliday has a rare lead role here and he's fine, coming off at times like a B-movie John Barrymore. Mary Brian as the ward is unexceptional, but Kay Strozzi (pictured with Halliday) as the fake Russian temptress is quite good (she only made one other movie before leaving films). There is no musical score; instead, we constantly hear the sounds of thunder, wind, and rain in the background. The final chase is bizarrely rendered in slightly faster-than-normal motion, and there is a very amusing dream sequence in which Halliday imagines himself as a pirate. [TCM]

HAPPY LAND (1943)

During WWII, in the small town of Heartsfield, Iowa, drug store owner Lew Marsh (Don Ameche, at right) gets a telegram telling him that his beloved son Rusty (Richard Crane) has been killed in action. Marsh is inconsolable, refusing to go to work, brooding at home, and even shutting his wife out of his grief until the ghost of his grandfather (Harry Carey) shows up and, a bit like Scrooge’s Ghost of Christmas Past, takes him on a long walk around town, making him relive his past. We see Marsh come home as a young man from service in WWI, marry, and raise Rusty into a fine young Boy Scout-type. Rusty falls in love, graduates from high school, and plans to go to a school of pharmacy to join his dad at the drug store, but the war intervenes. Back in the present, Marsh finally goes back to the store and, as he’s closing up, meets Tony (Henry Morgan), a sailor who was Rusty's best friend; he tells Marsh about Rusty's heroic death, and Marsh and his wife take him into their home for his 2-week leave.

This sentimental drama from Fox has a lot in common with MGM’s THE HUMAN COMEDY, which was released a few months earlier. Both are patriotic propaganda stories of how wonderful it is to live in small town America and how Americans should deal with the inevitable loss of their loved ones in the war. Both end the same way, with a friend of the dead soldier arriving in town as a symbolic new son. The biggest difference is that COMEDY is largely about a community and this film is about an individual family. Ameche is very good as both the older and younger Marsh, and Crane (pictured), best known as 50's TV spaceman hero Rocky Jones, looks and acts the all-American boy part to a tee. The women (Frances Dee as Marsh's wife and Cara Williams and Anne Rutherford as Rusty's love interests) don't fare as well, mostly because they're not given much to do, though I enjoyed seeing Mary Wickes in a small role as an employee at the drug store. Similarly Carey doesn't register strongly in his relatively small ghostly role. It's really Ameche's show all the way, and if you like him and don't fight the lump-in-the-throat sentimental scenes which occur fairly regularly, you'll enjoy this. [FMC]

BELLE STARR (1941)

Yet another Hollywood movie centered on a historical American figure about whom I knew nothing before (and, given the inevitable fictionalizing and sanitizing, about whom I still know almost nothing). In Missouri after the Civil War, Gene Tierney is a young Southern belle who still resents the Union, especially her former beau Dana Andrews who fought for the North as major in the army. Andrews' job now is to clear out the straggling Confederate bandits and "terrorists," one of whom is the notorious Sam Starr (Randolph Scott). At Tierney's family's mansion, while Andrews attends dinner, Scott shows up and he and Tierney hit it off. Andrews arrests Scott, but Scott's men turn the tables briefly. When Scott is injured, Tierney and her brother (Shepperd Strudwick) tend to him, and when Andrews shows up, he feels compelled to have his men burn their mansion down for giving aid to terrorists. Tierney and Scott escape to the hills and get married, and when she begins riding along on his group's exploits, she gets a reputation as a "bandit queen." Tierney, who thinks they're doing noble deeds by robbing the Northerners, is upset when the outlaw Cole Brothers join up. One of them shoots her brother and she leaves the gang but discovers a plan by Andrews and the nearby town to capture Scott and his men. She tries to intervene, but tragedy strikes.

The real problem with this misfire is that it wants to be GONE WITH THE WIND. Of course, it fails miserably. From the very first scenes, Tierney is set up as Scarlett O'Hara-lite. There are several scenes which specifically echo famous scenes in GWTW, including banter with a meddling but good-hearted mammy (Louise Beavers), the straggling return of a loved one from the war, and Tierney dodging carpetbaggers in the big city. Beavers even gets an emotional Hattie McDaniel moment near the end, but she's not quite up to it (and neither is the script). It's in color but it doesn't look half as good as GWTW--and some truly bad day-for-night work during a climactic scene doesn't help. Had the studio let the material find its own way, the film might have had a chance, though poor Tierney is terribly miscast, and she uses a dreadfully artificial Southern accent throughout. The men are all fine, especially Strudwick (under the name John Shepperd); two other bright spots are Elizabeth Patterson and Chill Wills as a hills-living couple who help out Scott's gang, but no one can make this film amount to much. The film is so bland, I wasn't even moved to look up the real Belle Starr on Wikipedia. [FMC]

SEVENTH HEAVEN (1927)

This silent romantic melodrama set in Paris before and during WWI is clichéd and occasionally over-the-top, but worth watching for the lead performances. Charles Farrell is a handsome, hearty sewer worker with dreams of becoming a street cleaner. He’s an atheist who says that God owes his him 10 francs for lighting candles in a church, but when a priest offers him a street cleaning job, he becomes a tentative believer. Janet Gaynor is a beautiful young woman who lives on the edge of poverty with her horrifyingly cruel sister, a thief and a hooker who gives Gaynor fierce whippings whenever she pleases. During a particularly brutal beating which spills out into the streets, Farrell saves Gaynor. When a cop wants to arrest Gaynor for being a homeless undesirable, Farrell pretends she's his wife, even taking her back to his seventh-floor garret to stay the night. (His philosophy is that, though he works in the sewers, he lives near the stars, and is always looking up.) Though their first night together is chaste, soon they're in love and they hold their own private wedding ceremony to cement their bond. When Farrell goes off to war, the two make a promise to commune spiritually every day at 11:00, the hour when they exchanged vows. Eventually Farrell is blinded on the battlefield, though Gaynor gets word that he has been killed in action, and a tearjerking climax is in store.

Gaynor and Farrell were Hollywood's top drawing couple for a few years, but I've never all that impressed by them in sound films (Change of Heart, Delicious). Here, however, I can see their appeal. Farrell's handsome and a bit luggish in that pleasant Hollywood way, and Gaynor (who won the very first Best Actress Oscar that year) is luminously beautiful and quite believable as a waif with resources of toughness inside. She underacts a bit, which makes up for Farrell's occasional overacting. The scenes in and outside the rooftop apartment are lovely, but the kinky whipping scenes between Gaynor and her sister (Gladys Brockwell) are simply astonishing. Brockwell whips and whips, almost dancing herself into a frenzy, but watch for the even more surprising scene in the second half when Gaynor finally gains control and gives Brockwell a taste of her own medicine. This won't be the movie that will turn you into a silent movie fan, but if you already have a tolerance for them, this is worth seeing. [DVD]

THE ROAD TO RUIN (1934)

Ann, the new girl at high school, hangs out with Eve, a pretty blonde who seems friendly and wholesome but who soon drags Ann down a very unwholesome path involving reading racy novels, smoking, drinking, and engaging in heavy petting with boyfriends. Eve's mother is so trampy, she's dating men even though she's not officially divorced; Ann's mom is a dowdy homemaker, but her pop is carrying on an extramarital affair. With such bad role models, who can blame poor Ann for taking a one-way trip down the road to ruin? Tommy seems like a cute kid, but one makeout session on a riverbank ends up with Ann losing her virginity to him. Later, Ralph, a dirty old man, steals Ann away from Tommy. The girls attend a wild pool party, complete with a strip poker game, some midnight skinny-dipping, and a police raid. Eve winds up with syphilis and manages to get medical treatment, but poor Ann winds up pregnant. Ralph insists she get an abortion, but the back-alley doc botches things, and Ann’s road to ruin ends in an untimely death.

Sex gets the Reefer Madness treatment here in a low-budget exploitation film. This doesn't really work as camp because the actors are a bit too sincere. Still, on its own terms, it's not a bad movie. There's a nice feeling of freshness and spontaneity to many of the early scenes. Helen Foster as Ann is OK though she never truly seems down and dirty enough for the trouble she gets in; Nell O'Day is better as Eve, downplaying the trashiness and playing Eve as a smart cookie gone bad. Also fine is Glen Boles as Tommy (pictured), who seems like a nice kid who gets in over his head, not like the usual slimy Lothario type these films usually feature. None of the kids have bad intentions here, though practically all the adults do--in one very funny scene, the pool party neighbors peer voyeuristically out the window before calling the cops, the husband in particular enjoying his eyeful of bad behavior. The movie was co-directed by Dorothy Davenport, or as she's officially billed, "Mrs. Wallace Reid"; Reid was a silent movie star who died at the age of 31 from alcoholism and morphine addiction, and his widow made a number of movies which preached against sinful vices. The preaching here is dated, but it's still a fairly enjoyable trip into B-movie moralizing, spiced with some actual nudity in the pool scene. [TCM]

THE HEART OF THE MATTER (1953)

Trevor Howard (left) is an associate police commissioner in the British territory of Sierra Leone in West Africa during WWII. He is unhappily married to Elizabeth Allan, who is herself unhappy being stuck in a backwater colony, and she's even more unhappy when Howard is passed over for a promotion and doesn't make a fuss about it. She is flirting with, and maybe having an affair with, Denholm Elliott, who though young and handsome seems a bit seedy and decadent. The Catholic Howard is disturbed when another officer hangs himself, and he and a priest (Peter Finch) have an angry dialogue about whether or not suicide is the one sin that God cannot forgive. Soon, Howard is in trouble on a couple of fronts: in order to get money for his wife to take a vacation to South Africa, he takes out a loan from a notorious criminal (Gerard Oury), which complicates his association with a diamond smuggling case the police have been working on. At the same time, he gets involved in a passionate affair with a young widowed Austrian refugee (Maria Schell). When the wife returns and the police get suspicious about his relationship with Oury, things start to fall apart for Howard.

I haven't read much Graham Greene, but I wouldn't think that his books about Catholic faith and marital problems would be movie bait; nevertheless, much of his work (Catholic-centered and otherwise) has been adapted for the screen, and successfully. Even more interesting is that what are arguably two of the best Greene films were done in the 50's, though they seem more akin to recent indie films in their indirect and slow-building narrative arcs. (The other film is the 1956 THE END OF THE AFFAIR.) Howard is excellent as a man unmoored, even from his god. The entire cast is top-drawer, especially Oury who went on to make a name as a director in the 60's and 70's. The ending is apparently different from that of the novel, but is almost as bleak. As a long-lapsed Catholic boy, I still find films and novels about Catholics interesting, and this is certainly among the best. [TCM]

THANKS FOR EVERYTHING (1938)

Puff cigarettes sponsors a radio contest looking for the most average U.S. citizen based on usage of popular products; small-town guy Jack Haley is announced as the winner, but when PR men Adolphe Menjou and Jack Oakie discover that Haley’s choices matched up 100% with the national averages, they drum up an excuse to disqualify him. Their plan: to keep him under watch and see if his product choices and opinions on public issues can predict those of the populace. Sure enough, the PR company is able to perfectly chart up-and-coming trends based on Haley’s picks, but their luck may not hold when they try to stymie Haley’s romance with his hometown girlfriend Arlene Wheelen, who is chosen Miss World’s Fair; they’re afraid that Haley will lose his common touch. This second-feature satire starts off well, but loses energy in the last half, despite an amusing sequence in which, in order to gauge Haley’s opinions on isolationism, they infect him with a bad case of poison ivy (see picture) and sequester him in a hotel room while convincing him that war is about to break out. The three male stars are fine, as is Binnie Barnes as a PR assistant. Tony Martin sings occasionally for no particular reason. Haley, best known as Oz’s Tin Man, is a charming light comic leading man (see ONE BODY TOO MANY ; it’s a shame he never really hit it big beyond OZ. [FMC]

THE YOUNG IN HEART (1938)

A drab generic title hides a sweet comedy about a larcenous family that reforms its ways. We first see the Carleton family in operation on the French Riveria. Patriarch Roland Young claims to be a ex-colonel with the British Army in India and calls himself Sahib--in reality, his "title" comes from a play he and his wife (Billie Burke) did in their youth about the Bengal Lancers. While he fleeces folks at the gambling tables, his son, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., is about to marry a rich woman while daughter Janet Gaynor is flirting with a young Scotsman of promise (Richard Carlson). However, they're caught in the their scamming ways and are ordered out of the country. On a train to England, they befriend a lonely old woman (Minnie Dupree) who has recently come into a great deal of money. They help her out when she's injured during a train derailment and she insists they come to live with her in her mansion. Smelling a shot at getting into the old lady's will, they agree. Carlson returns and threatens to expose them, but when they insist they are serious about reforming, he calls their bluff, beginning with getting Young honest employment with the Flying Wombat car company (sounds a little Monty Pythonish, doesn’t it?). The rest of the film follows the gradual change in all of them: Fairbanks gets a menial job at an engineering firm and falls in love with his boss (Paulette Goddard), and Gaynor warms to the attentions of Carlson. But we don't know for sure how far the family has come until Dupree does indeed put them in her will, then becomes seriously ill; the family finds out that her estate is almost bankrupt. Will they stick around for Dupree's sake or return to their con artist ways? The first half of this film is quite charming; the family members are all allowed to be unrepentant rogues, and even the usually curdly-sweet Gaynor seems to be having fun being bad. Once they start getting serious about being honest, some of the fun goes out of the proceedings. All the actors are fine, with Young and Burke standouts; I kept being scared that Carlson's heavy artificial Scottish accent would slip, but he does a pretty good job with it. [DVD]

AFTER TOMORROW (1932)

This little-known pre-Code melodrama, about the effects of family and finances on romance and ambition, works surprisingly well for most of its running time, until its rather sudden happy wrap-up. Charles Farrell and Marian Nixon (pictured) are a cute young couple who want to get married but have lots of obstacles in their way. Farrell, who is desperate for a raise at work, is something of a mama's boy and his mother (Josephine Hull) is a nagging shrew who refuses to agree to move in with the couple so they could marry and he wouldn't have to keep paying her rent. Nixon's mother (Minna Gombell) is a nagging shrew to her husband (William Collier Sr.), a sweet older guy whose insurance business is faltering. Gombell, who has always wanted a better life and a more ambitious husband, is having an affair with their boarder who, on the verge of a big business deal, embezzles money from his firm. Everyone here has frustrated dreams; the title comes from a song that Farrell and Nixon sing to each other about being happy "after tomorrow comes." Eventually, Farrell's better job comes through and they plan their wedding, but the day before, Gombell leaves town with the boarder and her already ill husband has a heart attack. The young couple uses the money they'd saved for the wedding for Collier's doctor bills. Six months later, with Hull still a whining albatross around Farrell's neck, Gombell returns just as Collier is getting back on his feet, not to reconcile but to give him a thousand dollars to give to the couple. He's too proud to take it, but rather suddenly, a "deus ex machina" solution springs up out of nowhere, involving Hull and a character we've heard about but never seen, and the last shot shows Farrell and Nixon at Niagara Falls, married at last.

Because this was made before the Production Code restrictions, it feels a little more realistic than later films of its kind. Though Farrell and Nixon seem chaste, at one point we see them engage in a playful wrestling match that winds up with the two of them on the floor looking like they’re ready to move to the bedroom (until his mom enters). Later, Farrell proposes a weekend "holiday" purely as a sexual outlet, though Nixon nips that in the bud. Gombell's affair is presented plainly and, in a development that would not be possible under the Code where her adulterous behavior would have to be punished, she winds up happy and satisfied. The best acting here is in the supporting roles, especially Gombell and Collier—Gombell has a great scene in which she snaps and tells Nixon that she was a mistake and was never wanted.. The lanky and handsome Farrell was never exactly a powerhouse; he's believable here as a nice but passive guy who lets everyone walk all over him, but isn't aware that's what he's doing. Hull only made five movies, but you'll recognize her as a dotty old lady from ARSENIC AND OLD LACE and HARVEY. There are several good lines of dialogue. When Gombell complains, "Anybody would think I'm just the cook around here," Collier replies, "Not after a couple of your meals, dear." When someone confronts Hull about her constant bitching, she says, "A sharp tongue is the penalty of a keen brain." Today, this material would be more suited for a TV sitcom, but it's kind of refreshing to see this more serious Depression-era portrayal of how the pressures of money and family wear down a young couple. [DVD]

BLACK WIDOW (1954)

Van Heflin, a successful Broadway producer, sees his wife (Gene Tierney) off to visit her sick mother, then reluctantly attends a boring cocktail party given by Ginger Rogers, the star of his latest hit show. At the party, he befriends a depressed young lady (Peggy Ann Garner) who has been struggling to make a living as a writer--she's told by one editor that it's OK to write like Somerset Maugham or Truman Capote, but not like both at the same time. When she complains that her current living conditions down in the Village aren't conducive to her writing, he agrees to let her use his luxury apartment during the day while he's gone. This goes on for a few weeks without incident, but on the day that Tierney returns, Garner is found dead in the bathroom, an apparent suicide. Based on evidence provided by Garner's roommate (Virginia Leith), the assumption is made that she killed herself over an affair with Heflin which had gone wrong, but then the police find out that she was strangled (and pregnant) and Heflin, despite his insistence that he was not involved in her life, is the prime suspect. He spends the rest of the film trying to clear himself, and soon discovers that Garner was not quite the naïve innocent she seemed to be.

This film has been released as part of Fox's Noir series, and the basic plotline (an innocent man, in the wrong place and time accused of murder, and a potential femme fatale or two) is certainly a stalwart noir device. But stylistically, this is far from noir: this film is in bright color and Cinemascope, and though it's set in the big city, virtually none of the action takes place on city streets, but in well-appointed apartments in high-rise buildings (except for the atmospheric Village garret where a couple of scenes are set). Structurally, the film is a mess: it's narrated once in a while by Heflin, and an awkward flashback sequence is shoved in during the first half-hour to give some background about Garner. In the service of providing some red herrings, there are plot details tantalizingly presented then dropped or not developed, such as Garner's romance with Leith's brother (Skip Homeier), who seems to be living in the garret. The supporting cast includes Reginald Gardiner as Rogers' weak, older husband, Otto Kruger as Garner's uncle, and Cathleen Nesbit as Heflin's maid. Bea Benedaret and Mabel Albertson, both of whom you'll recognize from TV shows, have small roles. In addition to a problematic script, the acting is weak. Heflin is virtually the only one to escape unscathed. Rogers, trying for a bitchy diva like Margo Channing in ALL ABOUT EVE, can't quite cut it and gives a TV-scale performance in a widescreen film. Tierney has little to do in an underwritten part. Gardiner and Kruger are OK, though neither is a great fit for his role. It's worth seeing, especially if you're in the mood for a (predictable) mystery movie, but I think it would have worked better as a lower-budget, black & white noir. [DVD]

COTTAGE TO LET (1941)

A delightful little wartime thriller with comedy, romance, and at least one surprisingly explicit death. In the Scottish countryside, Leslie Banks, an eccentric inventor, and his wife let a rather scampish Cockney evacuee boy (George Cole, pictured) stay at their country estate; already in the house are a mysterious boarder (Alastair Sim) and a wounded pilot (John Mills). Banks is working on a new bomb sight for the RAF, but insists on staying at his home to do the work rather than working from London. Fearful that spies are leaking invention info to the Germans, Scotland Yard is keeping an eye on things, but we are kept off guard as no one is quite whom he or she seems to be on the surface. In addition to the house guests, there's also Banks' nerdish assistant (Michael Wilding) who might be a traitor, a butler who might be a cop, a maid who quits rather suddenly, and Banks' daughter (Carla Lehman) who falls for Mills. Young Cole, a Sherlock Holmes fan, figures out who's who and plays an important part in the elaborate climactic sequence, in which he and Banks are kidnapped on the day of the village bazaar.

This was based on a stage play and, though it retains that feel, being mostly set in the house, there are crucial scenes which are opened up into the outdoors. The laboratory set is particularly well done. All the actors are good, with the young Cole (who went on to play Scrooge's nephew in the Alastair Sim CHRISTMAS CAROL), Mills, and Sim standouts. One character (I can't tell you who) gets a memorable death scene, involving a tortured scream and a lunge at the camera, right at the end of the film. This is not a widely seen movie in the States, but watch Turner Classic's schedule for it. One amusing quote: Sim says, "I'm a romantic sentimentalist"; Lehman's reply: "How uncomfortable for you." [TCM]

NO GREATER GLORY (1934)

This is a seriously weird, probably one-of-a-kind movie. Imagine the Our Gang kids or the Bowery Boys making an antiwar movie, like All Quiet on the Western Front, but within the narrative framework of West Side Story (without the romance). Set in Hungary after the first World War, the film is essentially about a turf war between two gangs of boys: The Paul Street Boys, who look to be around 11 or 12 years old, and the Red Shirts, who all look at least 16. Though we get virtually no information about their family lives, I think, as in West Side Story, we're to assume that these kids have too much free time on their hands and not enough places to spend that free time. There is one last vacant plot of land in their neighborhood, an abandoned lumber yard, and the Paul Streeters spend their time defending the land from the marauding Red Shirters. Like The Jets in West Side Story, the Red Shirters remain individually anonymous except for their leader, Frankie Darro, who is dead serious and never cracks a smile. The Paul Street Boys are led by Jimmy Butler and Jackie Searl, but the central character of the film is sickly little George Breakston who is the only one of his gang who isn't an "officer," remaining always a private; he doesn't even have a military cap like everyone else does.

Darro (pictured above) sneaks into the lumber yard and steals the Paul Street flag, and the rest of the film follows the war that develops (both gangs portrayed rather heavy-handedly as "armies"), with Breakston trying constantly to prove his worth to Butler. At one point, Searl becomes a spy for the Red Shirts, but Breakston catches him and he is eventually welcomed back to the Paul Streeters. Breakston catches a cold and refuses to rest up, and by the end it has developed into a potentially fatal disease. When the final battle occurs, the sick little boy, who has finally gotten a soldier's cap of his own, leaves his bed to participate and tragedy strikes, and the finale has the feel of the last scene of West Side Story. The biggest problem here is that the movie never finds a consistent tone. It's mostly serious, with an occasional touch of humor, though it's all the weirder that the threat of real physical danger is rarely present. The disparity in ages between the two groups is also strange; maybe that's part of the anti-war allegorizing that's going on here, but for me it was a frustrating distraction from taking the movie as seriously as it wanted to be taken. The director, Frank Borzage, gets good performances out of all the boys, especially Breakston. Darro, one of the best and most underrated child actors of the 30's (see WILD BOYS OF THE ROAD, now on DVD as part of the new Forbidden Hollywood boxed set), looks menacing but never gets a chance to really act. Though these kids are clearly standing in for adult soldiers in Borzage's war allegory, it's difficult to take the battle seriously, especially when, as online critic Goatdog points out, the final battle looks like a lot of fun, and obviously no one is in danger of real injury. A weird movie; if TCM ever airs this rarely-seen Columbia film again, catch it to believe it. [TCM]