It's possible to say that The Big Heat (1953) is one of my favorite films. I've seen it plenty, will watch parts of it when it pops up on TCM or wherever, and I think about parts of it a lot when considering other films. I found it when I was discovering Gloria Grahame, and she's absolutely part of why I always come back to the movie. She's so dang good in this movie as gangsters moll Debby Marsh - a plucky girl who has compromised a lot so she doesn't sink back into poverty. To me, while she's very different from movies to movie, "excellent" is typical for the era from Grahame- but some consider this to be her final "great" performance. Okay. Fair enough. She had some issues. But what a way to leave a mark in cinema.
But I'm also fascinated by the story of the cop who spends his days and nights "white knighting" and not participating in the rampant corruption of his police department, only to lose his wife and... snap. Like, Glenn Ford's Dave Bannion is not okay through a big part of the film. It's an unusual fall from grace for a Hayes Era film, and while Bannion never quite breaks the Hayes Code, he sure seems like he might here and there.
It's also got Lee Marvin in an early role, just filling up the screen and seeming like a whole lot more than the psycho second banana he's supposed to be, and playing it with a cool believability that his peers on screen aren't yet able to muster.
Anyway, I've written about this one before, and it's be a kick to podcast at some point. So I'll duck out here. But if you haven't seen it, give it a chance. It feels remarkably modern for something 70 years old.
I had seen this before, about eight years ago, but only remembered bits and pieces of it.
Mitchum plays an over worked San Francisco-based doctor who plans to leave the hospital to start his own practice (and not put in 24 hour days). He's got a swell gal in the person a Maureen O'Sullivan, a very understanding nurse, and all is looking good. UNTIL. He takes on a suicide attempt in the person of Faith Domergue - pitched here as the sexy, wealthy, society gal who throws herself at Mitchum. That is until he figures out that Claude Raines (in high Raines style here) is not her father, but her husband. A scuffle ensues, and Raines ends up dead. Plus, Mitchum ends up concussed when he was already drunk.
Domergue leads Mitchum on, and they make a pretty classic noir-era cross-country escape to get across the border and escape murder charges. Meanwhile, Domergue might be a lunatic and Mitchum has a serious concussion that needs attention.
It has a bit of a fugitive The Live By Night, on the lam quality, a noir staple (I'm immediately thinking of a few others, including High Sierra). And comparisons to Detour are inevitable and unfortunate as that shines a light on the fact that Domergue just isn't Ann Savage. It's a bit unclear what the appeal is beyond "pretty". As nutsy as Ann Savage was, she at least had personality to spare.
Still, it's a good watch for a second viewing in 10 years. Mitchum is surprisingly dialed in, playing the increasing medical trauma in a buyable, understated way that stretches him beyond "awesome dude with troubles". Raines was probably on set for 3 days to get his part in, but he's terrific.
There are a number of setbacks for our leads en route to Mexico, and, frankly, they feel both concocted to the point of stretching credulity and absolutely like the dumb things that can keep you from achieving what seems like very reasonable goals. Especially while traveling.
Anyway - I don't dislike it, but there's a reason I only sort-of remembered it before turning it on. But from now on it'll be "the one where Mitchum gets way-layed by small-town folk and their insistence on beards".
Much like Beware, My Lovely, also written by Mel Dinelli, Cause for Alarm! (1951) feels like it could have been a play just as easily as a film. The action takes place in a very limited amount of time, in very few locations, and resolve not abruptly, but quickly and fairly completely (minus a body or two). And, a very small cast. I think there's maybe 8 characters with speaking parts, if that.
I try to keep up with Noir Alley on TCM anyway, but you can do far worse than Loretta Young as your star. I'll categorize the movie as noir because, hey, Eddie Muller had it on his show, but like Beware, My Lovely, it feels more like a straight thriller than particularly noir, either from an aesthetic or thematic standpoint.
I had absolutely no idea what Guilty Bystander (1950) was, and it sounds like the making of the film is film-worthy in and of itself. I've seen enough low-budget films from the 1950's to recognize one when I see one, and it's positively weird to see Zachary Scott - five years earlier in blockbuster Mildred Pierce - and Faye Emerson, now married to American royalty, trying to save a picture through force of will and acting when the story is a mess and sometimes a scene just drones on for minutes past its expiration date.
Weirdly, it also has some fascinating stuff! Zach Scott plays an ex-cop who was maybe sliding toward alcoholism (as the very real Zach Scott was doing) when he made a mistake and decided to quit the force. Which led to him leaving the very-together Faye Emerson, who you think would have gotten his straightened out if he'd stuck around. She's tough, man! Anyway, now he's a hotel detective in a hotel that seems like it can't afford a desk clerk, let alone a detective. But mostly he just drinks. Until Faye Emerson comes and gets him to tell him his son has been... taken? Disappeared? Anyway, he's not home.
Scott then basically tries to stay sober through the film, and it's kind of weird and depressing to watch as he sometimes does have a drink and people give him drinks knowing they shouldn't. It's kinda heavy.
But it's also a mess of a movie that doesn't make a ton of sense, has some wildly convenient happenstances, and sometimes just refuses to agree that a scene is over or should change camera angles. I cannot imagine what chips were cashed in to get Sam Levene for his scene as Scott's former cop colleague, but they clearly only had him for a few hours, because... in many movies, they change camera angles. But I always like Sam Levene popping up.
Jenifer was good enough to host a watch party this evening and selected Queen Bee (1955), a film from Joan Crawford's mid-40's to mid-50's cycle.
I'd label the movie as a "Southern Gothic Melodrama", and I wouldn't be shocked to see it pop up on Noir Alley, either, but not til we've exhausted other films like Flamingo Road, which fits the bill better. I genuinely enjoyed the film, in part because it's so bonkers and done with complete sincerity as Crawford manipulates everyone around her in a grand old house in small-town Georgia.
The film co-stars Barry Sullivan and John Ireland, but our POV is the young cousin of Crawford played by Lucy Marlow, who arrives after her schooling to be a sort of companion/ secretary to Crawford. But I just figured out the woman playing one smaller role was Fay Wray, aged 48 or so. Mind officially blown.
You can't not comment on the fact that Crawford was 50 or older when the movie was filmed and is still playing a woman who is probably supposed to be no older than 35. I can never think of anyone who pulled this sort of thing off in the studio-era for as many movies in a row who wasn't Mae West. But casting contemporary Wray against her as a former rival for the affections of Barry Sullivan, is no mean feat. And, look, it's not a criticism. Crawford's make-up was more a problem by 1955 than the actual aging process, and in some shots and in some entire films from the era, it works. Crawford herself is no less powerful an actress, and one wonders if she dialed it back how she might have appeared (although her hair in this film is the tight perm of the mid-50's that did few women any favors).
But, yeah, it's a tidy 100-or so minutes of Crawford wreaking all sorts of havoc upon her own family and their lovers. It's got some outstanding dialog, terrific cinematography (Charles Lang), and you can't outguess the movie as it unfolds.
A gang that TRICKS YOU INTO WEARING SLACKS WHEN THAT IS STRICTLY AGAINST THE DRESS CODE.
High School Hellcats (1958) is part of the post WWII shock and awe that occurred when the Greatest Generation had their own kids, and since we were in our first real generation where kids weren't sent to a field or factory or married off at age 14, we accidentally invented "the teenager", and then, immediately, "the juvenile delinquent" when those teens used their free time and allowances to cause a ruckus by dancing to rock AND roll down at the soda fountain.
This movie is dumb as hell, following the dumber-than-a-bag-of-rocks protagonist/ heroine "Joyce" as she is moved to a new town. Borrowing from Rebel Without a Cause (3 years earlier), Joyce's parents are distracted with lawyering and Bridge Club, and just want for her to behave, be home for supper and not date boys. Also, pointedly, for a now kinda not exactly a slip of a girl to not run around the house in her underwear. In truth, Joyce is a moron and a boor, so you kinda understand why dad wants her on a short leash.
She moves to a new school which is apparently segregated by gender, and she's immediately bullied into joining a gang called "The Hellcats", who seem to both seem hate her and insist on her membership and loyalty. Yes, they neg her into joining. Their big initiation is tricking her into wearing pants, which she isn't supposed to do. When her teacher says "oh, yeah, we don't do that at this school. Not a huge deal. Do you have a skirt?" in tears she runs out of the school and seeks solace in the person of a local soda jerk who claims he's going to college and denies having any personal attachments, so he'll just focus on Joyce, thank you. Entirely on Joyce.*
The gang is made up of some real winners and insists Joyce get nothing higher than a "D" for a grade, and is otherwise obsessed with parliamentary procedure. Joyce is all in. If she's going to randomly decide who to people-please while acting shocked that anyone else has some pretty basic expectations of her as a human, throwing in with the down-slope of the bell curve is absolutely the way to a brighter future.
I'm not clear on what The Hellcats existed to do. There's no organized crime, there don't seem to be threats of violence from which Joyce needs protection - except the Hellcats themselves, and then it seems like telling a teacher or principal "hey, those girls just threatened me. Is this normal?" would start the needed conversation. We're told the school is crawling with gangs, but... it's not apparent this is true or why or what for. So, in the manner of all people searching for a reason to exist when there is none - they really do get hooked on their internal rules. And as we all know, nothings says "rebel" like coming up with new and arbitrary rules!
Look, this movie is prime quality MST3K/ RiffTrax/ Friday Watch Party material. At the same time, knowing how sneaky and dumb high schoolers can be (and more than occasionally homicidal), it's hard to say "oh, this is so unbelievable". Y'all, if you told me all this was based on real events, I'd just say "yeah, okay. Man, high schoolers are dumb." Not all of them, but, you know, a LOT of them. This is where we get dumb adults.
I HIGHLY recommend High School Hellcats. It's short, mind-bending, an absolute time-capsule, and shows what happens when you cross a second-banana who knows she's absolutely peaking before graduation.
Out of nowhere, it gets really dark really fast, and just gets darker from there as everyone on screen makes wildly stupid choices but which would make for a keen set-up for Season 2 of Mare of Easttown.
*it's a reminder that back in the day, anyone over the age of 14 was, apparently, fair game. And why we have certain laws in place.
Well, I turned on the TV and Gun Crazy (1950) was on TCM and at the part where an adult Bart meets Annie Laurie at the sideshow, and the next thing I knew I was finishing the movie.
Cyd Charisse is Star of the Month on TCM. We're on record that Cyd Charisse is a pretty good idea in general, and so we're going to watch some of these movies we've not seen before (they're airing on Tuesdays in June).
This one felt more or less like an excuse for a variety of talents and Vegas floor shows to do a little something here and there in a showcase tucked between the paper-thin story of a Vegas gambler/ rancher and a ballerina who meet and fall in love. That ballerina is, of course, Charisse. You won't know the gambler/ rancher.
But the movie also has Agnes Moorehead as an earthy ranchwoman, Jim Backus as a casino manager, George Chakiris as a young romantic, Paul Henreid as Cyd's manager, Frankie Lane as Frankie Lane, and... most exciting of surprises... Lena Horne as Lena Horne.
It's... dopey and fine. I don't love it. Charisse is amazing in every one of her numbers, not the least of which is a "Frankie and Johnny" performance (with narration by Sammy Davis Jr.).
Anyway, I wouldn't rush out to see it, but it's... fine.
For gangster and crime film fans, there's a lot to like in The Brothers Rico (1957), and I have to wonder how many future gangster pictures were influenced by this one. A story about family loyalty, gang loyalty, and where the two intersect, it's a tough picture.
Fortunately, it stars Richard Conte, who plays Eddie Rico, the eldest brother, pitch perfect. A former mob accountant, Eddie's gotten out, left NYC and is running a laundry company handling industrial jobs like hotels. He's married to a girl from the old neighborhood who talked him into getting out - and he's domesticated and ready to adopt a child when he's reminded he's still taking orders from New York. And on the heels of that, he finds his brothers have been involved in a hit, and aren't following the mobster playbook. One of them fell in love and grew a conscience.
Throw in an old school Italian mother (Argentina Brunetti) who sees her ties to the mob as a good thing for she and her family, when not genuflecting, and it's more than the usual mob story, and hints at what's coming in mob fiction.
There's no white-knight cop in this, nor any sign of law enforcement. Nor is there anywhere to go where the New York mob hasn't syndicated operations. As noir, it's about a character's belief in people, despite the fact they run a system that was always murderous, violent and corrupt. He may have walked away as a friend in his mind, but he had never truly walked away - especially with his brothers remaining entangled.
There are some phenomenal scenes in the film (Conte waiting all day with the local boss in his hotel room), and Conte's scenes with his mother.
But at the end of the day, the film has a very weird Hollywood ending that just doesn't fit everything we saw before. And absolutely can't have been what was in the original novel by Simenon or in the original screenplay.
Still, worth watching. Sometimes it feels positively modern.
For anyone who wants to talk about the great days of America and imagines the 1950's as some period of Leave It To Beaver simplicity, knowing that the era could also produce a movie that every corrupt cop movie has tried to stand up to since is a hell of a reality check. In an era where even the noir films were being relit for eventual television distribution (less in content than in visuals), Welles' final Hollywood backed opus hits some of the darkest notes in a noir of the entire era.
I've written before about how anxious Touch of Evil (1958) makes me, and that's still true. I'd previously attributed most of that anxiety to the frustration and sympathy with Janet Leigh's young bride character who seems to be (a) the only one with a clear-eyed view of the situation, (b) in absolute peril from multiple forms of assault, and (c) utterly ignored by the macho men playing cops and robbers around her - she's an absolute prop, even to her own husband.
So, Voodoo Woman (1957) is a low-budget picture released through API that's more or less a jungle horror adventure aimed at teens, I think.
The plot gives us the ruthless Marilyn (Marla English) who wants GOLD in the jungle, I think. Anyway, she dupes a local barkeep into funding her as she talks her would-be boyfriend (Lance Fuller) into going out there, along with a hired guide/ tough guy (Touch Connors). But - whoops - they're headed for a village where voodoo magic is melding with mad science as colonialist scientician Dr. Roland Gerard (Tom Conway) is working with local tribes people who perform voodoo to (a) prove you can transform a person into a sort of Voodoo Monster, and (b) use science to keep them in that state.
I won't bother you with more details. It's a movie that is rigidly against more than three set-ups per scene, doesn't make much sense, but has both an AMAZING monster suit for the titular Voodoo Woman and Marla English is terrific as the scheming evil-lady at the center of the picture.
Go in expecting a movie-serial-level production and you'll be fine!
We'd watched The Blue Gardenia (1953)some time back, and this time I'm inclined to be kinder to the film. It's still not my favorite, but with Anne Baxter, Ann Sothern, Richard Conte and Raymond Burr and Fritz Lang directing, you kind of expect a bit more.
Anne Baxter gets a Dear Jane letter from her solider-boy boyfriend who has met a nurse overseas, and tells her he's getting married. She does as anyone might do, receives a call for her roommate (Ann Sothern) looking for a date, takes up the fellow on it, and meets up with Raymond Burr. Because it's 1953, Burr is not a nice guy, and he gets Baxter drunk and takes her back to his place to take advantage of her.
Baxter wakes up at home, unsure of what happened, but she's left her shoes at Burr's apartment, which is embarrassing enough, but also: he's been killed with a fire poker. So. She seems to have totally murdered a dude and left her shoes behind.
Conte plays a local reporter - a social crusading type in search of headlines, and he begins the search for the woman they dub "The Blue Gardenia".
Fritz Lang wasn't one to shy away from a good thriller, of course, and this film puts the audience in the curious spot of identifying with a woman who just killed someone, with pretty good reason, but by social mores of the 1950's - if she's arrested, who knows? Could be the gas chamber. And if she's acquitted for self-protection? One can assume she'd be "ruined" by attacks on her character for having made the terrible decision to cozy up to Raymond Burr. The film doesn't explicitly say anything about a woman's place in society in 1953, but it's not hard to understand what the assumed rules are, and how Lang and the writers used those notions to build a better mousetrap for our protagonist. As the audience, we know it's unjust, but...
Unfortunately, Conte is written as a bit of a dingbat, apparently buying a whole lot of "I have a friend who may have done a thing" storytelling, that I'd assume anyone as old as 14 would recognize as "and I assume this friend is you?" But it's not how it's played off.
The movie generally *looks* great, with Nicholas Musuraca listed as Cinematographer, and who had plenty of prior experience he brought to bear in this film.
Again, the movie is fine - it just wasn't one I'd had any particular penchant for the first time I saw it, and that was more or less how I felt on round 2.
Burning the last of my "it's your birthday, watch what you want" goodwill, I chose Naked Alibi (1954) - a movie I'd heard was "ehhh". And, indeed, it was.
But, look, I'm a Sterling Hayden stan and a Gloria Grahame nut, so this seemed like a slam dunk. Alas.
Sterling Hayden plays a detective that in literally any other movie would be a rogue cop.or just a thug of a cop (see Hayden in Crimewave). Here, his underlings haul in a guy for basically existing on the sidewalk after dark and seem set to pin a crime on him minus any evidence, so he loses it and slugs a cop. But the guy is a baker, with a young wife and kids. It makes no sense, yet Hayden decides he's a crook and hassles him. Two of his guys get blown up by a car bomb, and he decides it must be Al the Baker, and goes about police-harassing him, including manhandling him in front of witnesses and the press, which gets him fired.
Well, it's still coming up on my birthday, and Jamie said "watch whatever, it's your b-day." And, with a Totter movie cleared we moved on to Ida Lupino. Well, friends, while it may have started pre-pandemic, Jamie has thrown in with the Ida Lupino Fan train the past year, for sure. So, this selection was saluted.
I'd not previously seen Woman in Hiding (1950), but picked it up cheap on BluRay, because: Lupino.
I will argue that the noir movement splintered into several familiar genres, from the erotic thriller to the Lifetime Network's basic movie programming. Film's with "women in peril" such as Sudden Fear and Beware, My Lovely - which definitely have precedents from the start of film found a home in the crime genres of the 1950's, doubling as "women's films" with plucky heroines (scared out of their minds) and some chisel-jawed dude who might come to the rescue. By the early 00's: I mean - have you seen the names of movies on the Lifetime Network?*
Woman in Hiding follows Ida Lupino playing the daughter of a wealthy mill-owner in small-town North Carolina. After the accidental death of her father, she marries the factory foreman, only to be met at their honeymoon cottage by a young woman informing Lupino "he was my man, he married you for the mill, and he probably killed your dad."
Freaked out, Lupino goes into HIDING (see - the title is accurate). Here she meets Howard Duff (whom she's marry the next year) and shenanigans ensue.
The film does contain a drinking game noir item - there's a convention in the hotel where they're staying.
The film co-stars the lovely Peggy Dow in one of her very few film roles - she was also in the film version of Harvey that same year - and she was out of movies by 1952. Which is a shame - she's great here and totally different from her character in Harvey.
It also stars "that guy" actor Taylor Holmes, as well as Don Beddoe.
This isn't my favorite Lupino role, but that's the script more than anything she's doing. But, man, when confronted by Dow's character with what her new husband of less than a day may have done - she's got a lot to do there and nails it.
Special nod on this one to cinematographer William H. Daniels. He manages to get in some great stuff, especially in the sequence on the stairwell, on the bus and in the finale sequence. Gorgeous looking noir stuff. And letting the drafts in the stairwell kick at Lupino's skirt of her dress was pretty great (and likely a happy accident).
*it's a parade of playing on paranoia re: domestic insecurity mixed with actual issues of domestic trauma, and it's a wild ride that Lifetime programs that shit 24/7 and then flips to "and now two months of movies about Santa being your boyfriend's dad".
A year or two ago, twitter-friendly comics artist and classic movie buff Patch Zircher suggested the film Odds Against Tomorrow (1959) my direction. This last weekend, the film aired on TCM's Noir Alley, so I was able to get the Eddie Muller discussion to frame the production and story.
The talent in the movie is undeniable - Signal Watch faves Robert Ryan and Gloria Grahame star, along with Ed Begley Sr. and Shelley Winters, and Harry Belafonte, who I think Jamie was eager to see (me too, maybe for different reasons). But the talent behind the camera is also entirely notable. Expert filmmaker Robert Wise was listed as both Director and Producer, Abraham Polonsky was secretly the writer (but blacklisted at the time, did it under cover), Joseph C. Brun as cinematographer, and the great Dede Allen in an early job as editor.
Look, there's easily a book to be written about this movie, not a blog post. It's a remarkable bit of cinema for a multitude of reasons.
Based on a novel by celebrated author Richard Wright, and *starring* Richard Wright(!), the movie is maybe the most surprisingly frank depiction of the world a Black American lived within in mid-20th Century America captured on film at the time that I've seen. Now - let me also say: it is very true I watch studio movies of the era, and have not had access to, and am not aware of, much of the independent Black cinema of the the 1940's and 50's, which I am sure had plenty to say and show.
But, look, this movie was never, ever going to get made in America at a studio - at least until the 1960's. And so it wasn't. Shot in Argentina to get around the Hayes Code, the movie does feature a good number of American actors, but not all of them are... the best. And there's some serious ADR work happening over some of the rest of the talent that must have been local. But - just imagine in 2021 hearing "we had to leave the country because telling this story was so controversial, the US just couldn't handle it". I mean - that is not a great thing to have to say in a supposedly free society.
This isn't the world's best musical, but it's also aggressively about not being about anything (by way of being a traditional, vaudeville-style Broadway show, and proving THAT'S what people really want).
It's been a long week, and I have a lot of things on the DVR, but Jamie didn't care what we watched, and I figured Cyd Charisse seemed like a great thing to watch.
By the time this movie was filmed, Astaire was in his mid-50's, and the story seemed all but pointedly about him. His character is a film song and dance man who has lost the spotlight. By this point, musicals were far from dead, but maybe weren't at the height of their heyday. He's playing someone maybe a few years younger than himself (convincingly) who returns to New York to work on a show with a husband and wife writing team (Oscar Levant and Nanette Fabray). They get involved with the latest big-name of Broadway, who does *serious theatre*, but who wants to try a musical.
You know he's fancy because he's doing that new-fangled Oedipus Rex show.
They rope in a top-tier choreographer and his top-teir ballerina girlfriend played by Cyd Charisse.
This isn't the only musical from around this time that feels like middle-aged people wrestling with the coming wave of American theater and dance and trying to take the piss out of it. There's a kind of goofy number in White Christmas that's really the one that doesn't work trying to poke fun at what we now call "modern dance". And, as I said up top, this one wants to remind us "please stop taking these new musicals seriously! Your heart really just wants to see people dance for 90 minutes and end with a wedding! Right? RIGHT?"
And, you know, sometimes that's true. But you kind of want to say to the movie "my friend, you haven't seen *anything* yet. Wait for the 60's.".
The movie is probably most famous for its show-within-a-show-within-a-show interlude of Astaire playing a priavte eye in a sort of Chandler/ Hammer/ whatever mystery homage and an excuse for Charisse to sex it up a whole lot. It's goofy as all get-out, and for the life of me, I can't figure out if it's full camp, a light spoof or someone trying to be quasi-earnest. But... the "Broadway Melody" sequence it is not. (By the way, this was written by the same folks who wrote Singin' In the Rain).
But, man, really, I'm not sure this sequence could have happened any earlier than 1953 or much later than '53. Noir (not yet called noir) had been in theaters for almost ten years, and all I can think is that this was how it was interpreted by song-and-dance folks trying to be cool, daddio. But... holy @#$%balls.
(also, look for when Julie Newmar walks right up to the camera!)
What *does* work, and beautifully, is the Dancing in the Dark number with Astaire and Charisse, which is the kind of number you want to see and remember with the talent they've lined up. The pair are in amazing form, and it's the one time you kind of think "well... maybe" as you look at the romance they're trying to push between a man and a woman young enough to be his daughter.
That poor Cyd Charisse, such an ungraceful and plain girl.
On the flip side, there's this weird thing where they suggest that the writer-couple is on the skids and the wife has taken up with the big-deal actor/ director/ producer guy that never... gets resolved. I guess we see a couple break up in slow motion, but just sort of from the edges? Someone help me out here, because that was weird and dark and I can't find mention of it anywhere online.
Anyway, it's not my favorite film, but I was amazed how much of it I didn't remember. A lot of people love this film, but... eh. It's fine.
To give you guys an idea of the difference between kids movies of the early 1950's (that I watched about 30 years later) and what comes out these days - Walt Disney's Treasure Island (1950) features a guy ordering a "double rum" in the first scene, an old pirate drinks himself to death in the first ten minutes, and then there's cold-blooded murder, mutiny, and people shooting each other and a kid who shoots a guy in the face after getting stabbed with a dagger.
I mean, we saw this movie at school.
I also checked the novel out of my elementary school library, and it makes the movie look like a walk in the park.
Now THAT'S adventure!
It's a fascinating movie as Jim Hawkins, our 12-year-old avatar, is a kid caught up in a *very* adult adventure, complete with both the violence and risk of a pirate story, but - watching it as an adult - I'm reminded how flawed the protagonist-type characters are as well. But, more than that, it walks a gray path for Jim as he is genuinely befriended, to the best of his ability, by Long John Silver - who clearly has a soft-spot for the kid, but will also cut his throat to save his own skin.
This was one of the first movies I ever saw that included this sort of betrayal, and it was all the weirder to parse watching as a kid, because Jim and John do have a weird buddy-ship even though they're locked in mortal combat, and LJS's minions are *always* ready to gut the kid. But I do like that Hawkins sees both sides of the coflict, and has complicated interactions with the adults around him. It's a heck of a way to illustrate a young man discovering the world beyond his door.
Jamie and Ryan sing the praises of an American classic! It's pouring superlatives and compliments as we take a look at a movie that really speaks to you, even if it's not with its own voice. Join us as we talk through the technical achievements, phenomenal performances and great fun of an American classic!
A thriller which lifts elements from plenty of Gothic mysteries, borrows from noir, and has an ending that's maybe whatever the opposite is of deus ex machina, Jennifer (1953) has some great things going for it, but was not my cup of tea, exactly, but I found myself actually fairly wrapped up in the mystery.
Starring the lovely and talented Ida Lupino, with photography by James Wong Howe (one of the best to ever DP a movie), it still feels oddly like a B- picture, and maybe it was. The film runs (blessedly) short, relies upon a small cast where Lupino is the biggest star, and we see only a handful of locations.
Lupino wasn't quite done with movies at this point, and two of my favorite of hers follow this one: Private Hell 36 and the phenomenal The City That Never Sleeps. She'd just come off two great films with Robert Ryan, Beware, My Lovely and the icy On Dangerous Ground. By the time she hit her 40's in the late 1950's, she was more or less transitioning to TV where she'd remain for the rest of her career - as, at the same time, she took to directing as much or more than acting.*
