Sinister Hands (1932) Starring: Jack Mulhall, Crauford Kent, Mischa Auer, Phyllis Barrington, Louis Nathaeux, Gertie Messinger, Fletcher Norton, Phillips Smalley, Lillian West, and James P. Burtis Director: Armand Shaefer Rating: Five of Ten Stars
A millionaire is murdered at a seance where EVERYONE (including the bulter) could have done it, and had reason to do it. It's up to homicide detective Herbert Devlin (Muhall) to sort through the suspicious characters and find the killer.
"Sinister Hands" is a decent little mystery that plays like an outline of an Agatha Christie novel. The first half sets up the future victim and all the people with reasons to kill him, and the second half is devoted mostly the detective interrogating the suspects as he tries to discover who did it, or trick the killer into revealing him- or herself.
There will be no great surprises in this film if you pay attention as it unfolds and if you've read/seen at least two or three other detective movies. (In fact, one of the things I found most interesting is completely trivial and not even related directly to the movie. It appeared that the characters were wearing unisex bathing suits at the pool party scene. I'd never noticed that men and women's swimwear was that close in style and appearance during the late 1920s and early 1930s. I also found it noteworthy that one of the suspects is a fake spiritualist named Yomurda. With a name like that, he can't possibly be the killer, can he? :D )
This is an entertaining little mystery film that is probably only of interest to big fans of the genre (like me) or those with a deep love of low-budget films from this era (which I also qualify as). It might also be a suitable second feature for a Bad Movie Night, because, while not exactly a bad movie, it is a film that time has passed by and which can give rise to much levity in the right company.
Gaslight (aka "Angel Street") (1940) Starrng: Anton Wallbrook, Diana Wynyard, Frank Pettingell, and Cathleen Cordell Director: Thorold Dickinson Rating: Eight of Ten Stars
Abusive husband Paul Mallen (Wallbrook) sets about driving his mentally frail (but wealthy) wife insane after she unknowingly discovers a dark secret he is harboring. Will retired police detective B.G. Rough (Pettingell) uncover enough evidence about Paul's intent and true identity before it is too late to save Mrs. Mallen (Wynyard)?
"Gaslight" is a fabulous thriller set in Victorian London. If the modern day equavilients could have scripts this taught, victims this helpless and undeserving of torment, villains so absolutely sininster and intelligently evil, and camerawork and lighting as elegant and creative as is on display here, I wouldn't constantly be lamenting that the thriller is a dead genre.
The two lead actors in this film give astonishing performances. Paul Mallen has got to be among the most dispicable, evil villains to ever appear on film, and Anton Wallbrook plays him with perfect coldness. Diana Wynyard as the pitiable object of his twisted scheming plays Bella Mallen with just enough confusion and gentleness to make the viewer feel sorry for her but never feel irritated because she is too much of a victim. Instead, Paul Mallen's evil simply becomes that much more evident.
According to the IMDB entry for "Gaslight", when MGM acquired the rights to the film and did a remake in 1944, they attemted to destroy all copies of this original film. Fortunately, they did not succeed, and this very stylish, well-done thriller survives to this day in very good condition. It's one of the many forgotten and obscure cinematic gems included in Mill Creek's 100-movie boxed set, Mystery Classics, and it's one of the reasons many a reasons that set will appeal to lovers of thrillers, crime dramas, and film noir.
The Inner Circle (1946) Starring: Warren Douglas, Adele Mara, William Frawley and Virginia Christine Director: Phil Ford Rating: Five of Ten Stars
When a mysterious veiled woman frames private detective Johnny Strange (Douglas) for the murder of a much-loathed radio reporter, his equally mysterious secretary (Mara) is ready with just the right lie to clear him. But Lt. Webb of the homicide department (Frawley) isn't buying it, and Johnny has to race against time to find the real killer.
"The Inner Circle" is a light-weight, slightly goofy mystery film that's the cinematic equavelent of an apple--it's a quick, inoffensive snack. Average acting, simple script, and an okay mystery plot (that keeps it together to the end, but then falls apart), it's not a bad way to spend an hour, but it's not an experience you'll remember. The most interesting thing about it is William Frawley as a sort-of proto-Columbo whose main investigative technique seems to be to annoy suspects into confessing.
Sucker Money (1933) Starring: Earl McCarthy, Mischa Auer, Phyllis Barrington and Mae Busch Directors: Dorothy Davenport and Melville Shyer Rating: Six of Ten Stars
When Jimmy (McCarthy), an actor-turned-newspaper reporter, infiltrates a group of confidence artists who are running an elaborate phony psychic operation, he gets more than just the material for a great expose: He finds romance in the form of beautiful Ms. Walton (Barrington), one of the targets of the bad guys, and he finds danger at the hands of the murderous leader of the gang, Swami Yomurda (Auer) when his cover is blown.
"Sucker Money" is a fine, fast-paced little reporter-saves-the-day-and-the-girl and self-declared "expose" film of the phony psychic racket (which, given the number of movies that were made with this theme during the 1930s and 1940s, I can only assume was quite widespread). The set-up is a bit weak--a criminal enterprise as elaborate and organized as the one presented in this film wouldn't turn to the want ads when it came to hiring new help--but that bit of nonsense aside, the film is engaging, well-acted, and well-filmed... even if it feels and looks a bit too much like a silent movie at times. (There's also the minor issue with the reporter wearing more lipstick and eyeliner than any of the women characters in the film when he's in his "acting mode". Perhaps that's to remind the audience that he's a ACTOR? Or maybe that was part of his disguise--"if they think I'm one of THOSE actors, the women won't come onto handsome ole me, and I'll get my story quicker"?
The weaknesses of the film are more than made up for by the evil Swami Yomurda (whose name is never said in the film, thank God.) Auer portrays a truly sinister and evil character, with strongly scripted actions to support him. He may be a fake psychic, but he has Svengali-like hypnotic powers, and he has no compulsion about ordering those under them to dispatch themselves by drinking poison. He does just this in the film's most startling scene. The scene alone makes the film worth watching, although the strong climax also makes it well worth your time, if you're a lover of old-fashioned crime dramas.
(Trivia: This is the second movie in which Mischa Auer played a crooked spiritualist named "Sawmi Yomurda." The first was 1932's "Sinister Hands," in which is also co-starred with Phyllis Barrington (her character in that film was a different one, however).
The Great Flamarion (1946) Starring: Erich von Stroheim, Mary Beth Hughes, Dan Duryea and Stephen Barclay Director; Anthony Mann Rating: Five of Ten Stars
Reclusive marksman and vaudeville entertainer (von Stroheim) comes out of his shell when he believes the beautiful assistant in his act (Hughes) loves him and wants to be with him instead of her husband (Duryea). However, the coldhearted, manipulative woman simply wants the Great Flamarion to "accidentally" shoot her husband during the act, so she can run off with yet another man.
"The Great Flamarion" is an utterly predictable film, although it might not have been so in 1946 when it was made. The story never misses a chance to go exactly where you'd expect it to go, and the characters never move beyond complete and total cliches.
However, there is still a degree of enjoyment to be derived from this film if you just sit back and go with it. Hughes' performance as the black widow who should make black widows feel uneasy is so over-the-top that it fits perfectly with the nature of the script, while Von Stroheim takes an interesting term as a man who moves from an obsession with lethal guns to a lethal obsession with the woman who took his self-respect and his honor.
The Red House (aka "No Trespassing") (1947) Starring: Edward G. Robinson, Allene Roberts, Lon McCallister, Rory Calhoun, Judith Anderson, and Julie London Director: Delmer Daves Rating: Seven of Ten Stars
The summer teenaged Meg (Roberts) and her friends stand on the verge of adulthood, is the summer they decide to explore the woods on the lands owned by her adopted father (Robinson), over his virulent objections. Soon, secrets that have been buried deep in the forest since Meg was a baby are dragged back into the light, with tragic and deadly consequences.
"The Red House" is a well-paced, expertly acted thriller where country-folk are neither simple nor neighborly.
The cast are all perfect in their roles, with Edward G. Robinson (who transforms from an eccentric, crabby farmer into a menacing, murderous pervert, as his vener is gradually stripped away) and Allene Roberts (who changes from a shy, romantic girl into a young woman willing to risk everything to learn the secrets of her past) give particularly noteworthy performances.
The camera-work and the staging are also very impressive. The way the woods change between day and night are very impressively done, with the menace present when Meg's friend and object of her puppy-love (McCallister) tries to take a shortcut them during a storm, but completely absent during the light of day. The musical score is also extremely well-done and probably somewhat ahead of its time. (My biggest complaint about movies from the 1930s, 1940s, and into the 1950s is that oftentimes the music soundtrack almost seems random in its emotional quality and often not even close to being in sync with what's happening on screen. That can't be said for the music here--it enhances and moves the story along with as much force as the actors and the dialogue they deliver.)
I have nothing but praise for this film, so I think it a sad fact that it is on the verge of becoming "lost." I've seen two different versions of it on DVD--one that so badly hacked up the final scene of the film is missing, and another where the sound is so bad that it was hard to make out what was being said because of static.
If there's a film that deserves to be restored and preserved it's "The Red House." However, since there's no solid commercial hook here, and the film can't be considered "historical", it'll probably never happen.
Despite the poor quality of the sound, "The Red House" is one of the many movies included in the "Dark Crimes 50 Movie Mega-pack" and the even bigger "100 Mysteries" set that made those sets worth the asking price.
Febuary is Black History Month in the United States. I'm celebrating it by calling the world's attention to cinematic milestones in Black History across all my various review blogs. Look for the "Black History Month" tag and join in the celebration by checking out the movies reviews!
Ten Minutes to Live (aka "Ten Minutes to Kill") (1932) Starring: Lawrence Chenault, Mabel Garrett, A.B. Comathiere, and Willor Lee Guilford Director: Oscar Micheaux Rating: Three of Ten (but see note at the end)
"Ten Minutes to Live" is a brief anthology film--perhaps the first American-made anthology film--that highlights the sort of B-list movies that were being made as films with sound oblitarated silent movies and the careers most of the actors that performed in them. In both tales in the film, it's clear that one of things director and screenwriter Micheaux is doing is simply showing off the presense of sound. Both tales also very clearly show evidence of silent movie techniques, with the second half being obviously a silent movie that has been hastily and rather badly converted a talkie.
The first tale, "The Faker" is mostly a collection of Harlem nightclub routines (several performances by a troup of dancing girls, a couple of songs--with one being performed by the very sexy and talented Mabel Garrett, and a lame comedy act that shows that even black comedians were made up in something akin to black face when doing stand-up Back in the Day) with a paper-thin and badly acted plot featuring a con-man and abuser of women (Chenault) finally getting what's coming to him as he zeroes in on two new victims, including nightclub performer Ida Morton (Garrett).
The second tale, "The Killer", starts with a woman receiving a note from a pair of thugs as she sits with her date at a table in the night club. The note announces she has ten minutes to live. A flashback then follows, relating to us how she came to be in her present, perilous situation... and what follows is a standard silent movie melodramatic crime drama that's been retooled to show off sound. For example, car sounds have been added to a street sequence, and the sound of crowds in a train station. The sound effects aren't all that well done, the looping is painfully obvious, and the silent movie is still very much a slient movie. (I did appreciate the scene with Willor Lee Guilford changing from her dress into a skimpy nightgown and robe, even if I could have done without the strip-tease music that kicked at that time.)
In 1932, I'm sure the mostly rural black audiences for whom this film was made were awed by the sounds it feeatures. In 2007, however, "Ten Minutes to Live" is of interest only to fillm historians and historians of black nightclub acts the early 1930s.
In "The Faker", the interludes with actors thrown in between nightclub acts are really just an excuse to show us the nightclub acts, The filmmaker was plainly first and foremost interested in bringing music and dancing and singing (and the sounds of all these) to the patrons of movie-houses, some of whom might never make it to the glamorous Harlem nightclubs, but who could now enjoy all the sights and sounds of being there. The best portion of it is Mabel Garrett's song and dance act... but she never should have opened her mouth in an attempt to act. With the sound down, her scene with Chenault as he convinces her he's a famous movie producer is decent enough, but she can't deliver a line if her life depended on it. Chenault isn't much better, and they demonstrate why so many silent movie actors lost their careers with the advent of sound. (I hope Garrett did well as a singer, though. She was beautiful and sexy enough, and she had a great voice.) For movie lovers, "The Faker is a complete bust, but if you want to see what routines would appear at Harlem nightclubs in the 1920s and early 1930s, it;s worth seeing.
With "The Killer", we get a muddled storyline that's decently enough performed and filmed as far as silent movies go, but it's undermined by a hackneyed attempt to add sound to it. The badly acted sequences of Guilford in the nightclub with her date aren't terribly destructive... it's the flatly delivered, badly written lines that are delivered by characters off-screen as a mad stalker lurks atop a staircase, and the obvious looping of traffic sounds and badly staged crowd "chatter" that's going to bug viewers. The upshot is that what could have been the better half of this film is dragged down by a "gee-whiz" factor that has been left behind by history. If you want to see a well-done conversion of a silent movie to a talkie, check out Alfred Hitchcock's "Blackmail."
"Ten Minutes to Live" is not a film for the average viewer anymore. Film students should check it out, because it was the product of a pioneer in the filmmaking biz--Oscar Micheaux was the first black director to make a feature length film, a dedicated fighter for independent filmmakers, and a champion for portraying blacks on film as they really were--and because this is also one of the very earliest anthology films, but the rest of us can safely skip it.
Note: The copy I viewed was severely degraded, and I suspect that there aren't any out there in much better shape. One of the benefits of the DVD and digital storage in general is that films like this one get preserved. It may be a movie that time has left behind, but I think it's a valuable historical artifact, both for its documentation of the nightclub acts, and for its place in the evolution of America's race relations and the art of filmmaking. As a historical artifact, this film gets an Eight of Ten rating, but as a movie to entertain modern audiences, it gets a Three of Ten rating.)
Whistle Stop (1946) Starring: George Raft, Ava Gardner, Victor McLaglan, Tom Conway, and Jorja Curtright Director: Leonide Moguy Rating: Five of Ten Stars
When Mary (Gardner) returns to her home town after two years away, she rekindles a rivalry between Kenny (Raft), a two-bit loser she's always loved, and Lew (Conway), the local hotel owner--and hood-- who has always been in love with her. This time, the rivalry leads to more than just a few thrown punches... this time, it leads to robbery and murder.
"Whistle Stop" feels more like a summary of a story than the actual story. We learn learn next to nothing about the characters other than their most obvious traits (Why does Mary really come back to town? What was she really doing for those two years in Chicago? Why does Lew go to such extreme measures to get even with Kenny... is he really just a bastard?), we learn very little about the deep relationships that exist between them (Why does Gitlo--a resentment-filled employee of Lew, who is played by Victor McLaglan--have such a soft spot for Mary? Has Mary and her family always been the landlords of Kenny's family and is that how they met?). Perhaps if we knew a little more about the characters in the film, the ending would have felt a little less strange.
This is one of those films that's technically well made and features decent performances by all the actors, but which is ultimately undone by a bad script. The end result is okay but unremarkable.
Woman on the Run (1950) Starring: Ann Sheridan, Dennis O'Keefe, Robert Keith and Ross Elliot Director: Norman Foster Rating: Eight of Ten Stars
When artist Frank Johnson (Elliot) witnesses a gangland slaying and is subsequently target by the killer, he panics and goes on the run. When the police detective (Keith) in charge of the case contacts his wife, Eleanor (Sheridan) he finds an imbittered woman who is strangely uninterested in helping to locate him. But, once the police are gone, Elanor sets about tracking down her husband herself, first alone, then with the help of scoop-seeking reporter Danny Leggett. But, as Elanor draws closer to finding Frank, she unknowing leads the killer to him as well... a killer who is desperate to eliminate anyone who might identify him.
"Woman on the Run" is a well-scripted, perfectly paced film-noir style crime drama. The dialogue is particularly well-crafted, as is Elanor's gradual transformation from a surly film-noir dame to a wife who discovers that she and her husband still have a marriage worth saving. The way the film reveals the identity of the killer--who is much closer throughout the film than anyone suspects--and the casual way it demonstrates exactly how murderous and coldblooded he is, are also stellar examples of quality screen-writing and filmmaking.
With fine performances by all actors featured, an excellent script, great photography that takes full advantage of the black-and-white film medium, and a perfect music score to round out the package, "Woman on the Run" is a film that's undeserving of its obscurity... and it's a film that makes the 50-movie DVD collection "Dark Crimes " (which is where I saw it) worth the purchase price almost all by itself--another reason why it's such a shame its going out of print.
We film fans love to complain about about all the remakes plaguing us these days. I'm no different. The simple fact is that filmmakers covering the same ground more than once is nothing new--the film industry had barely been around for two decades before the first remakes started appearing.
One oft-retold tale is the Jack the Ripper-inspired thriller "The Lodger." Based on a popular British novel published at the beginning of the 20th century, the first film version was a silent movie directed by Alfred Hitchcock in 1927, followed by a talkie remake in 1932, an American remake in 1944, another American remake in 1953... and so on, with another remake appearing as recently as 2009.
The most famous of these is the 1944 version from 20th Century-Fox. I'm not going to cover that here, but will instead focus on the three slightly lesser known version that fall within the parameters of this blog.
The Lodger (aka "The Case of Jonathan Drew") (1927) Starring: Ivor Novello, June Tripp, Marie Ault, Arthur Chesney and Malcolm Keen Director: Alfred Hitchcock Rating: Five of Ten Stars
When fashion model Daisy (Tripp) strikes up a relationship with the quirky lodger on the top floor of her home (Novello), her jealous former suitor (Keen), a police detective becomes convinced that he is the killer who has been murdering blonde women in the area on consequetive Tuesdays. Is he accusing a strange but innocent man out of pure jealousy, or is Daisy putting herself in the arms of serial killer?
"The Lodger" was Alfred Hitchcock's first full-length film, and the great talent that he would evolve into is plainly evident here. However, despite some spectacular moments, this is not a great movie; it's better than other silent-era thrillers or dramas I've seen, but for truly great early Hitchcock, you want to check out "Blackmail".
The biggest problem with "The Lodger" is that Hitchcock either can't make up his mind what the main theme of his movie is, or he spends too much running time futzing around with irrelevant trivialities. The film starts with an extensive sequence showing how mass-media (radio and newspapers in those days) is stoking the flames of panic throughout London, but this angle is quickly dropped once the actual movie really gets going--which it does with a great introduction of Ivor Novello arriving to rent rooms at Daisy's place and matching the eyewitness descriptions of the serial killer.
While characters are shown reading newspapers throughout the movie, it's not until the film's final minutes that Hitchcock returns to the theme of media-stirred mass-hysteria when the jealous cop stalking the Lodger accidentially stirs an entire neighborhood into a lynch mob. In between these sequences, we have a story of an elderly couple that come to fear their lodger may be a serial killer because of his odd behavoir and their (implied) promiscuous daughter who sets up a rivalry between the lodger and her other suitor, a boorish, dimwitted cop with a tendency to abuse his authority. (Like other Hitchcock movies, circumstance is the main villain in the film, but the idiot cop comes in a close second.)
"The Lodger" is still worth seeing for those who are huge Hitchcock fans, those who are interested in film as an art form as opposed to mere entertainment, or those who love silent movies. Scenes bound to impress include the "glass celing" shot where Ault, Keen, and Chesney look up in response to the sound of the Lodger pacing in the sitting room overhead; the chessmatch between the Lodger and Daisy, where the audience first gets a full sense of how weird this man is (in addition to a litle bit of well-staged false suspense); the Lodger attending one of Daisy's fashion shows; the scene where the lazy cop searches the Lodger's room and finds damning evidence; and the mob scene by the iron-rod fence.
(By the way, there are several different versions of this film out there, but if watch the one distributed by St. Clair Vision, I recommend you mute the sound and put on Mike Oldfield's "Ommadawn." That music works far better than the jaunty orchestral soundtrack that runs under the film.)
The Phantom Fiend (aka "The Lodger") (1932) Starring: Ivor Novello, Elizabeth Allan, Jack Hawkin, A.W. Baskcomb and Barbara Everest Director: Maurice Elvey Rating: Seven of Ten Stars
Young switchboard operator Daisy (Allan) strikes up a relationship with Michel (Novello), the retiring young foreigner who rents rooms on the upper floor of her parents' house. When evidence starts to mount that Michel is the murderer that's been stalking and killing young women, Daisy refuses to believe it. Will listening to her heart instead of reason lead to her heart being cut out?
"The Phantom Fiend" is the second film version of turn-of-the-century novel "The Lodger," and Ivor Novello returns to play the same role he had in the Hitchcock version. The name has changed, as have some of the details surrounding the character, but it's essentially the same part.
"The Phantom Fiend" is an excellent thriller with an attractive cast that all give performances that are better than was average for these early talkies where actors and directors were still getting use to the idea of sound in movies. Some of the performances--like that of the very attractive Elizabeth Allan--are far more naturalistic than was typical in films of this day, and there isn't a single actor who seems stiff, with the exception of high-ranking Scotland Yard officials who are supposed to come across that way.
The film runs barely over an hour, but during that brief running time, the viewer comes to like just about every character in the film, except possibly for Daisy's inattentive yet jealous reporter boyfriend (Hawkin) who fingers Michel as the possible killer as much out of jealousy than genuine suspicion that he's the murderer. Novello was so charming as Michel that I found myself hoping the film would offer up an unexpected twist to clear him as the killer.
"The Phantom Fiend" is one of those overlooked classics that has been saved from oblivion by the advent of the DVD. The only surviving copies available to be digitized were in a ragged, decayed state. It's clear from the way certain scenes jump about that there are seconds, if not entire minutes, missing from the version included in this set, and there are points where the sound is so muddled that even cranking up the volume makes it hard to hear what is being said. Still, it's good that at least some version of this nicely staged and surprisingly well-acted early talkie will survive into the future.
The 1932 version of "The Lodger" is one of several classic movies inclued in the "Dark Crimes" boxed set, and its presense lends heavily to making the set a fantastic buy.
Man in the Attic (1953) Starring: Jack Palance, Frances Bavier, Constance Smith, Byron Palmer, and Rhys Williams Director: Hugo Fregonese Rating: Six of Ten Stars
A soft-spoken, socially akward patheologist (Palance) rents some upper-floor rooms from the Harleys (Bavier and Williams). His comings and goings coincide with the murders committed by Jack the Ripper, and Mrs. Harley starts to suspect Slade might be the notorious killer.
"Man in the Attic" is a well-acted, well-filmed drama that suffers only from its story being a little too simplistic and straight-foward; it's basically a mystery with only one real suspect, as far as the viewer is concerned.)
Jack Palance in particular in excellent as the suspicious patheologist Mr. Slade, giving a performance wher he is both sympathetic and sinister at the same time. In fact, he is so good at presenting this character that although there really isn't any other option within the story for him to be Jack the Ripper, you'll find yourself hoping until the Big Revelation occurs that you're wrong.
(If you're like me, you'll find yourself wishing that he knocks off the Harleys before the movie's over, because they get really annoying.)
Trapped (1949) Starring: Lloyd Bridges, Barbara Payton, John Hoyt, and James Todd Director: Richard Fleischer Rating: Six of Ten Stars
Master-counterfeiter Tris Stewart (Bridges) is serving a long prison sentence when he is recruited by the Secret Service to help capture a new ring of forgers who are using the plates he once created to get rich on phony bills. Stewart, however, is no stoolie, and he gives the agents the slip with the intention of not only getting even with his former partners but also to escape the long arm or the law with his girl (Payton) and a quarter of a million in funny money that it will let him live like a king in Mexico. But the government sting is still in effect, and Stewart's escape is not as perfect as he thinks....
"Trapped" is a well-acted and beautifully filmed crime drama. Bridges is the perfect film noir tough guy, Payton is the classic bad girl in love with a worse man, and Hoyt (as a government agent undercover as a con man with the means to help Stewart with his plans) is great as the shady character with something to hide. The unfortunate thing about the film is that its opening minutes are painfully reminiscent of a bad educational film/documentary about the Department of the Treasury.
"Trapped" is worth seeing if you're a big fan of 1940s crime dramas, but just be aware that you're going to have to sit through some really hokey stuff at the very beginning. (It does get better, though.)
Half a Sinner (1940) Starring: Heather Angel, John King, Constance Collier, and Robert Elliot Director: Al Christie Rating: Seven of Ten Stars
When Anne (Angel) comes to fear fear that she is growing old without ever having experienced any excitement, she decides to throw caution to the wind, buys a new outfit, and heads out for a day on the town during which she intends to enjoy herself and live life to its fullest. By the time her wild day is over, she's being chased by gangsters, a frustrated highway patrolman (Elliot), and has struck up a friendship with a rogueish stranger (King)... all while driving a stolen car with a dead body and incriminating evidence that everyone's looking for in the back seat.
"Half a Sinner" is a breezy comedy/thriller with romantic overtones that's more lighthearted than thrilling, despite the deadly gangsters and the corpse in the backseat. The beautiful Heather Angel, who excelled at playing adventuresome women, shines more brightly here than ever before... and in a couple of scenes almost too much so. In some scenes, Angel almost seems to be ovveracting.
However, it's not Angel that's the problem--she's as good in this film as any others I've seen her in, particularly since she's got a well-crafted script and excellent dialog to work with. No, the problem is the fact that her co-star King didn't have the screen presense to hold his own against her. King is certainly handsome, but his acting skills and personal charisma are miserably pale when set side-by-by side with Angel, who really needs to co-star with someone of the calibre of John Howard or Ray Milland (both of whom she appeared with in the "Bulldog Drummond" series).
Still, the script is fast-paced enough and well-written enough that the weak point that is King's acting abilities is more than made up for. The appearance of the overbearing Madame Beckenridge (Collier) late in the picture also helps, as we finally get to see Angel playing off against someone with more screen presence.
If you enjoy well-done, classic comedies, I think you'll enjoy "Half a Sinner". It's one of the best romps where the girl stays in the front seat of the car ever put on film.
The Woman Condemned (1934) Starring: Richard Hemingway, Claudia Dell, Lola Lane, Paul Ellis, and Mischa Auer Director: Mrs. Wallace Reid Rating: Five of Ten Stars
When a radio station's star attraction (Lane) takes a mysterious leave of absence, the station manager becomes concerned that the largest sponsor of her show may pull out. He hires a private detective (Dell) to locate her and to find out why she needed the break... but when the P.I. is arrested for the murder of the singer, things start to get desperate on all fronts.
"The Woman Condemned" is a film that straddles the line between the mystery and comedy genres. The weird way through which Dell's lady P.I. Barbara Hammond and skirt-chasing gossip reporter Jerry Beall (Hemingway) meet and get married is absurd and hilarious, but the plot surrounding the murder of the singer and Beall's attempts to uncover proof of Hammond's innocence is a pretty serious (if a bit far-fetched, once all the details come to light) mystery tale.
This is one of those films that time has passed by. The camerawork and acting is more reminiscent of a silent movie than is healthy for the film (I had the same complaint about the other film from this director that I've seen, "Sucker Money") and the third act twists have become more eye-rolling than shocking with the 70+ years of mystery films that have been made since its release. However, the pace is fast enough and the set-up odd enough that the film will keep the attention of viewers who enjoy 1930s cinema. (The plot is also engaging enough that with some updating and rewriting of the ending, it would make a better remake candidate than all those 1980s movies everyone in Hollywood seems intent on revisiting.)
Trivia: The person behind the odd director's credit of "Mrs. Wallace Reid" was the one-time hugely celebrated silent movie star Dorothy Davenport. She turned to writing and directed later in her career, using her husband's name as her byline. She continued this habit until 1935.
The Chase (1946) Starring: Robert Cummings, Peter Lorre, Michele Moran, and Steve Cochran Director: Arthur Ripley Rating: Five of Ten Stars
Chuck (Cummings), a down-on-his-luck WW2 vet, is hired as a driver for a psychopathic gangster (Cochran) and his morose, penny-pinching sidekick (Lorre). When Chuck takes pity on the gangster's wife (Moran) and helps her flee to Cuba, he finds himself framed for her murder. Or does he?
"The Chase" is an interesting experiment in filmmaking and storytelling that will draw you in with its moody lighting, quirky characters, and good acting. The film will then confuse you when it takes a sudden turn, revealing that part or all of what you've just witnessed was a fantasy had by someone in the throws of a psychotic break. Finally, it will frustrate you by muddling the lines between the film's reality and the dream sequence, and completely blowing the ending with one cop-out piled upon another.
The end result is a film that's worth seeing, even if the experience will be somewhat dissapointing. It teeters on the brink between a 5 and 4 rating, mostly because of the botched ending. If a stronger finale than a car crash and a stronger resolution of Chuck's mental situation had been offered, this could have been a 6 or perhaps even a 7, because everything leading up to the end is pretty good. Lorre's performance is particularly noteworthy. Watch him closely during the scenes in the car for a demonstration of how little a good actor needs to do to establish a character's feelings.
A Life at Stake (aka "The Key Man") (1954) Starring: Keith Anders, Angela Lansbury, Claudia Barrett, and Douglass Dumbrille Director: Paul Guilfoyle Rating: Four of Ten Stars
An architect (Anders) attempting to come back from a business failure is approached by a wealthy couple (Lansbury and Dumbrille) who claim they want to help him get back on his feet so he can build houses for them. The husband insists the architect takes out a large insurance policy so their investment can be recovered if something should go wrong. When the architect starts having unexplained accidents, he starts to fear that he is the investment, and that his death is the pay-off.
"A Life at Stake" is a slow-moving, completely predictable (despite the far-fetched, convoluted nature of its plotline) film with a fairly dull main character and a pair of villians who aren't much better. In fact, the only performer here who displays any charisma whatsoever is Claudia Barrett, who is featured as the innocent younger sister of Lansbury's character.
"But what about Angela Lansbury?" some of you ask.
Well, I think she is horribly miscast here. She simply isn't the slinky, femme fatale type. This part required either a Lauren Bacall-type, or, at the opposite end of the scale, a Heather Angel-type. Lansbury is neither, and she is terribly miscast.
That said, she was more convincing in a similar role in "Please Murder Me", because she wasn't playing a straight-up "scheming trophy wife" as she is here. In the other film, Lansbury WASN'T playing an evil hussy... or so it seemed....
"A Life at Stake" is deserving of its obscurity. It can be found with 49 other black-and-white film noir/crime dramas, or on a double-feature DVD with the above-mentioned "Please Murder Me". As such, it's harmless filler. It's not a film worth seeking out, unless you're the president of the Angela Lansbury Fan Club.
Love From a Stranger (aka "A Night of Terror") (1937) Starring: Ann Harding and Basil Rathbone Director: Rowland V. Lee Rating: Seven of Ten Stars
Carol (Harding) wins the lottery and marries the perfect man (Rathbone) all within the space of a few months. The honeymoon's barely over, however, before she realizes he is not be what he seems. Carol soon finds herself in a contest of will and wits where her very life may be at stake.
"Love From a Stranger" is a remarkable thriller based on a story by Agatha Christie. It's a bit too slow in the build-up, but once it gets going, it's tense, exciting, and lots of fun. It's definitely a movie you want to stay with, because you'll be greatly rewarded for your patience. The final scenes of this movie are perhaps the best featured in any Christie adaptation, but it's only the greatest of many fantastic moments in the film.
Part of what makes this film great is the fact that it dates from a time when filmmakers had mastered the use of light and shadow in the black-and-white media to heighten suspense and tension. This may not be a "film noir" movie, but several of the scenes are lit and filmed with such style that film noir masters hopefully studied them. (The final scene is a particularly excellent example of this.)
The film's success is really due to the spectacular performances of Ann Harding and Basil Rathbone. It's the sort of a caliber that we don't see nearly enough of in modern films.
Particularly remarkable are the moments where Harding realizes she is married to a lunatic, and later, where it dawns her her that her very life depends on the next thing that comes out of her mouth. It both these scenes, Harding conveys more with her facial expressions than pages of dialogue would be able to do.
Similarly, Rathbone displays an amazing range in his performance here. He starts out as the ultimately gentleman, moves slowly into arrogance, barely concealed menace, and ultimately into fullblown insanity. The extended, crazy rant he delivers during this film is so over-the-top and so intense that even Jack Nicholson can only reach such heights in his dreams. (If you've only seen Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes, you've only seen a tiny fraction of what he is capable of on screen.)
"Love From a Stranger" is one of those films that has slipped through the cracks of cinema and into undeserved obscurity. If you like psychological thrillers, or if you're a fan of Basil Rathbone or Ann Harding, you need to see this movie.
(And here's a bit of trivia for Christie Completists: Joan Hickson, who at the end of her career would play spinster detective Miss Marple on British and American TV during the 1980s and 1990s, has a small role in this film at the beginning of her career, appearing as Emmy.)
Please Murder Me (1954) Starring: Raymond Burr, Angela Lansbury, Lamont Johnson and John Dehner Director: Peter Godfrey
When idealistic attorney Craig Carlson (Burr) realizes that he was manipulated into assuring the acquittal of a murderess (Lansbury), he sets about guarenteeing that she is brought to justice, even if if costs him his own life.
"Please Murder Me" has a plot that's reminicent of a "Columbo" episode, with the main character basically harrassing the perpetrator of a near-perfect crime into revealing their guilt to the law. Craig Carlson, however, goes much further than Columbo ever did!
Part courtroom drama, part film-noir thriller, fans of crime movies will enjoy the fact that this movie keeps to a very unexpected course. (You may think you know where things or going, or that a twist is about to put upon a twist, but you will in all likelihood be guessing wrong.) It's a well-acted movie with a creative script that's all the more fun to watch due to Raymond Burr playing the role of a grandstanding lawyer. While the Carlson character is far more faithful and loyal to the letter and spirit of the law than Burr's more famous Perry Mason character ever was, "Please Murder Me" still feels like what could have been an episode titled "Perry Mason and the Final Curtain."
The Wrong Road (1937) Starring: Richard Cromwell, Helen Mack, Lionel Atwill, and Horace MacMohan Director: James Cruze Rating: Five of Ten Stars
Jimmy and Ruth, a young, down-on-their-luck couple (Cromwell and Mack) steal $100,000 from Jimmy's employer that they intend to live off it once they get out of prison. A private detective charged with recovering the loot (Atwill) believes they are just a pair of desperate kids deserving of a second chance, and he arranges their early parole. As he encourages them to give back the money, a coldhearted, murderous criminal (MacMohan) is stalking them in the hopes of getting the loot for himself.
"The Wrong Road" is so heavy-handed in delivering its "crime doesn't pay" and "it's never to late to reform and become a law-abiding citizen again" messages that it borders on the goofy educational films that were so popular in the 1950s and 1960s (and even into the 1970s, because I remember watching a few...). However, a cast far classier and talented than is usually found in that sort of films, and a fast-moving story that actually has some tension to it makes it better than the educational shorts and film-strips it resembles.
The best part of the film is Atwill's character. Private detective Mike Roberts is almost a proto-Colombo, with his ability to pop up in Jimmy and Ruth's path at just the right (or wrong, depending on your point of view) moment, and his technique of annoying the criminals into coming clean.
The Strange Woman (1946) Starring: Hedy Lemarr, George Sanders, Louis Hayward, Gene Lockhart, and Hillary Brooke Director: Edgar G. Ulmer Rating: Seven of Ten Stars
Beautiful sociopath Jenny Hager (Lamarr) vamps her way through early 19th century Bangor, spreading heartbreak, mayhem and murder.
"The Strange Woman" is a predictable period drama that is elevated by its superior cast, and a multi-faceted performance of star Hedy Lemarr. Although Jenny Hager is a textbook sociopath and thoroughly evil, Lamarr manages to make the character sympathetic. Unlike most femme fatale characters as self-centered and manipulative as Jenny, the viewer can't help but feel a little sorry for her when her life starts to unravel when her weaknesses catch up with her.
Another impressive aspect of the film is is musical score. It serves as more than just a mood-heightener, it helps move the story forward by using well-known bits of music (such as the Wedding March or a Christmas song) to show the passage of time. It's a very effective technique that makes sure the film never loses momentum.
If you're a fan of Hedy Lemarr or a great lover of gothic romances, I think you'll get a kick out of this movie.
Cause for Alarm! (1951) Starring: Loretta Young, Barry Sullivan, Bruce Cowling and Irving Bacon Director: Tay Garnett
A delusional, bed-ridden man (Sullivan) writes a letter to the district attorney's office in which he claims his wife (Young) and doctor (Cowling) are plotting to kill him. As he reveals this to his wife, his weak heart gives out. She has just given the letter to the mailman, and she launches into a frantic series of attempts to recover it, before she ends up being framed by a dead man for a murder she didn't commit.
"Cause for Alarm!" could be an exciting--and even thrilling--little movie, but it is about 15 minutes too long. It drags a bit in the beginning and it sags in the middle. It needed to be more concentrated in order to fully capture the dread of the main character and to drive home the sense of ever-closer doom that is closing in on her as more and more people seem to grow suspicious of her, and she fails in her attempts to retrieve the letter.
The acting in the film is good all around (even if Young's constant hysterics get a bit tiring) and the technical aspects of the film are very well-done, particularly the lighting of the film's climactic scenes. The only problem with the film is its bloated, drawn-out script.
