As
longtime readers of this column will be aware, one of my favorite pastimes is
to visit Western film locations.
I recently had the opportunity to visit Pioneertown,
located in California’s Yucca Valley, roughly 16 miles from Joshua Tree
National Park.
Pioneertown is similar to Corriganville, which I wrote about here in 2021, in that it was built specifically for the filming of movies.
Today it remains open as a tourist attraction and
occasional movie location, and it’s also home for a few hundred people.
A notable former citizen of this small community was
singer-actress Nancy Wilson, who died at her Pioneertown home in 2018, at the
age of 81.
Nancy Wilson
Pioneertown was established in 1946. Founding investors from the movie industry included Dick Curtis, Russell Hayden (“Lucky” of the Hopalong Cassidy movies), Roy Rogers, and the Sons of the Pioneers.
Actors George Tobias, David Bruce, and Adele Mara were among those who attended the groundbreaking ceremony in September 1946, along with the investors. There’s a photo of the group at the Pioneertown official website.
Pioneertown was planned as a place within easy driving
distance of both Los Angeles and Palm Springs, providing everything needed for
movie productions and their casts and crews.
Bowling Alley
There was a store, restaurant, beauty shop, and newspaper.
The town even included a bowling alley, seen above and below, which was enjoyed
by Roy Rogers, who was a skilled bowler. Some readers “of a certain
age” may remember Rogers appearing on the TV show Celebrity
Bowling in the ’70s.
The original plan was to call the community Rogersville
after Rogers, but when his former singing group, the Sons of the Pioneers,
recorded a promotional song called “Out in Pioneertown,” it received
its permanent name.
Over the years many Gene Autry and Cisco Kid movies were
filmed at Pioneertown, along with non-Western films including The
Capture (1950) with Lew Ayres and Teresa Wright and Jeopardy (1953)
with Barbara Stanwyck and Barry Sullivan.
As Western film production became less frequent in the
’50s, numerous TV Westerns shot there, including Gene Autry productions such
as The Gene Autry Show and Annie Oakley. Autry
himself spent a great deal of time in Palm Springs, where he had various
business interests; Pioneertown is roughly 35 miles away.
A small film museum documents some of the productions shot
in Pioneertown over the years.
There’s a small amount of memorabilia in the museum; it’s
chiefly filled with vintage movie posters.
I wrote about Gene Autry’s The Cowboy and the Indians (1949) here in 2018 and again more recently. I was especially enthused about seeing one of that film’s locations in person.
The town’s main street was dubbed Mane Street. Here are
views looking two different directions.
Mane Street is still home to a number of buildings which
once doubled as movie sets.
Church
Feed
Gazette
Land Company
Livery Stable
While an ice cream parlor and grocery store are no longer
there, there’s a still-functioning United States Post Office.
A marker in front of the post office says it’s “said
to be the most photographed post office in the entire United States.”
There’s also a small motel.
Before leaving we ate lunch at the barbecue restaurant
Pappy and Harriet’s Pioneertown Palace, which is also a concert venue. I was
amazed to learn that the artists who’ve performed there have included Paul
McCartney, who gave a concert in 2016.
In the restaurant lobby my eye was caught by an autographed photo of Pioneertown investors the Sons of the Pioneers, who appeared in many movies. That’s one-time group member Ken Curtis, later known as Festus on TV’s Gunsmoke, at the top center.
Sons of the Pioneers
Pioneertown can be seen end to end, including a stop for
lunch, in two or three leisurely hours. The town occasionally hosts events such
as craft fairs and cookie contests. It’s an interesting and informative stop,
especially for those who love Western film history.
The photographs accompanying this article are from the author’s personal collection.
…
– Laura Grieve for Classic Movie Hub
Laura can be found at her blog, Laura’s Miscellaneous Musings, where she’s been writing about movies since 2005, and on Twitter at @LaurasMiscMovie. A lifelong film fan, Laura loves the classics including Disney, Film Noir, Musicals, and Westerns. She regularly covers Southern California classic film festivals. Laura will scribe on all things western at the ‘Western RoundUp’ for CMH.
Of the many talented and charismatic 1920s
female stars, there were perhaps few who inspired such rapturous fan magazine
articles as Greta Garbo. Motion Picture
Magazine once declared: “Everyone feels, without being able to explain
the fact, that this slim girl is one of the children of Destiny–as definitely
precious as a piece of pale green jade.” Picture-Play Magazine likewise gushed: “Her first appearance
on the screen struck lightning into the public’s heart.” And one
particularly insightful Screenland essay
said: “Her appeal is not direct, like that of an Anita Page or a Mary
Pickford; it is subtle, evasive, often unexpected…Most actresses have what we
might call one face. Greta Garbo is a woman of a thousand faces.”
And there were perhaps even fewer actresses
who became full-fledged icons as quickly and as decisively as Garbo. Even today
it’s not hard to see why: amid all the flappers, ingenues, and motherly types
filling the screens, suddenly here was this sleek woman of mystery with almost
ridiculously perfect Nordic features. And if that weren’t enough for the
public, talkies soon revealed a husky voice with a thrillingly heavy accent.
Garbo was born Greta Gustafsson (a very common
Swedish surname) in Stockholm, Sweden in 1905. Her family lived in a dreary
working-class neighborhood and her father worked various low-paying jobs until
passing away from the Spanish flu in 1920. Young Greta disliked school and
decided not to attend highschool, working jobs at a barber shop and a
department store instead.
Her natural beauty and experience as a shop
girl led to modelling hats and clothes for mail-order catalogues, and she also
started appearing in commercial films. Greta had loved acting from a young age,
so after playing a part in the comedy short Peter
the Tramp (1922) she decided to quit her job and join the Royal Dramatic
Theatre Academy in Stockholm.
During her time at the school she was spotted
by acclaimed Swedish director Maurice Stiller, who invited her to do a screen
test for The Saga of Gösta Berling (1924).
He quickly cast her as one of the leads–her first featured role–and she signed
a contract with Svensk Filmindustri. It was around this time that Stiller also
suggested that Greta change her name to something “modern and elegant and
international.” While stories behind its creation differ, “Greta Garbo” was the
catchy result.
Greta Garbo and Gerda Lundequist in The Saga of Gösta Berling (1924)
Stiller’s lofty reputation led to a contract
offer from MGM, which he accepted, bringing Garbo along. While Stiller tussled
with MGM over which picture to make, Garbo acted opposite Ricardo Cortez in Torrent (1926). Her performance won a
lot of praise, leading to her second starring Hollywood role in The Temptress (1926), initially directed
by Stiller. Stiller did not adapt well to MGM’s production methods, however,
and was let go. But Garbo stayed on, and when The Temptress hit theaters the delicately expressive actress with
an air of mystery was quickly deemed MGM’s newest star.
For the next few years Garbo would star in hit
after hit, starting with the sumptuous romantic drama Flesh and the Devil (1926) co-starring fellow MGM star John
Gilbert. Garbo warmed to the handsome, charming Gilbert right away and the two
struck up a real-life romance during the filming. Their love scenes on the
screen are still smouldering today, their charisma practically jumping off the
screen. Garbo’s cool, alluring performance made Photoplay enthuse: “Greta Garbo has established herself on the
screen in more sensational fashion than any other player since Rudolph
Valentino blazed out of The Four Horsemen.”
Greta Garbo and John Gilbert in Flesh and the Devil (1926)
Despite Garbo’s status as a top box office
draw, MGM was nervous to put her in talkies and delayed it as long as possible.
They finally mustered up the courage to star her in the talkie Anna Christie (1930), going heavy on the
“Garbo Talks!” advertising angle. Her deep, accented voice divided viewers at
first, but in time it would become as iconic as her face–especially when she
delivered her iconic line from Grand
Hotel (1932): “I want to be alone…”
In real life, that iconic line could’ve been
Garbo’s personal slogan. Her air of mystery wasn’t mere posturing for the
screen–not for nothing did writers dub her “The Swedish Sphinx.” As a child she
had often preferred to play alone, and as a world-famous adult her desire for
privacy only seemed to deepen. She shunned movie premieres and award
ceremonies, rarely gave interviews, and didn’t seek the attention of fans. Even
her personal style was lowkey, favoring mannish shoes and trousers, trench
coats, and slouch fedora hats, which in time were dubbed “Garbo hats.”
For much of the 1930s Garbo continued to star
in hit films, some of her biggest successes being Mata Hari (1931), Queen
Christina (1933) and Camille (1936).
But after the box office failure of the historical drama Conquest (1937), MGM tried a new tack and starred her in the comedy
Ninotchka (1939), with ads
proclaiming “Garbo Laughs!” While Ninotchka
did significantly better, the followup film Two-Faced Woman (1941) received scathing reviews. While Garbo
intended to make more pictures the projects that interested her kept falling
through. As it turned out, Two-Faced
Woman was her final film.
After retirement Garbo would retreat to the
privacy and solitude she had so consistently preferred. She sometimes enjoyed
the company of close friends, but she never married or had children (although
she came close to going to the altar with John Gilbert). After becoming a U.S.
citizen in 1951 she moved into an elegant Manhattan apartment with views of the
East River, where she lived until her death in 1990. Her legacy as one of
Hollywood’s greatest stars remains unshakeable–and so does her mystique.
Lea Stans is a born-and-raised Minnesotan with a degree in English and an obsessive interest in the silent film era (which she largely blames on Buster Keaton). In addition to blogging about her passion at her site Silent-ology, she is a columnist for the Silent Film Quarterly and has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.
13 Things You May Not Know About The Killers (1946)
Ask any noir fan for a list of their favorite films from the
classic era, and The Killers (1946) is likely to appear. It’s a stellar
example of this shadowy period of filmmaking, featuring such noir tropes as the
femme fatale, the hapless fallen hero, a painterly use of shadows and light,
and flashbacks (in spades!).
Ava Gardner and Burt Lancaster
Directed by Robert Siodmak, the film centers on the efforts
of an insurance investigator (Edmund O’Brien) to unearth the circumstances that
led to the murder of ex-boxer Ole Andreson (Burt Lancaster) by two hitmen (Charles
McGraw and William Conrad). A series of flashbacks introduce a motley crew of
characters, including Ole’s duplicitous girlfriend, Kitty (Ava Gardner), and
the members of a gang Ole joins to pull off a can’t-miss payroll heist, headed
by “Big Jim” Colfax (Albert Dekker).
This month’s Noir Nook celebrates this first-rate offering from the classic noir era by serving up 13 things you may not have known about this famous film.
The Killers was inspired by the 1927 short story of the same name by Ernest Hemingway. The story focused on the two hitmen of the film’s title; the small-town diner they enter in search of their target, Ole Andreson; and Nick Adams, a local resident who warns Ole of the impending danger. The short story ends after Ole indicates that he’s weary of running and Nick decides to leave the small town behind.
Charles McGraw and William Conrad
The screen rights were purchased from Hemingway
by producer Mark Hellinger, who had recently left Warner Bros. for Universal.
Hemingway agreed to sell for $36,750, on the condition that Hellinger advertise
the selling price as $50,000. Hellinger reportedly went Hemingway one better and
told the press that he paid $75,000.
The screenplay for the film was credited to
Anthony Veiller (who was also the screenwriter for The Stranger [1946]
and The Night of the Iguana [1964]), but several others had a hand in
the finished product, including John Huston, Mark Hellinger, and screenwriter-turned-director
Richard Brooks. According to Ava Gardner biographer Lee Server, Brooks had
tracked down Ernest Hemingway to ask him what happened after Ole’s killing, and
Hemingway responded, “How the hell do I know!” It was Brooks’s idea to focus
the story on the insurance investigator who tracks down the facts in the Ole’s
murder.
A second adaptation of Hemingway’s short story
was released in 1964, with the same name. The two hitmen were played by Lee
Marvin and Clu Galagher, and the film was directed by Don Siegel.
Edmond O’Brien
To direct the 1946 film, Hellinger tapped Robert
Siodmak, who author Imogen Sara Smith calls “probably the director most
associated with film noir . . . one of the great masters” of the classic noir
era. Siodmak also helmed Phantom Lady (1944), Christmas Holiday (1944),
The Strange Affair of Uncle Harry (1945), The Dark Mirror (1946),
Cry of the City (1948), Criss Cross (1949), and The File on
Thelma Jordon (1950).
Ava Gardner was cast in the role of Kitty
Collins after another Universal producer, Walter Wanger, spotted her in the
George Raft starrer, Whistle Stop, released in early 1946.
Lots of changes to the film’s script were requested
by the Hays Office (also known as the Breen Office), which was responsible for
enforcing the Motion Picture Production Code. The requested changes included
that Ole Andreson should not be shown stripped to the waist, that scenes of characters
drinking liquor be eliminated, and that a scene showing the insurance
investigator in the “ladies’ lounge” only be allowed if there were no women
present and no indications that the lounge contained a room with toilets in it.
Jeff Corey and Virginia Christine
Virginia Christine, who some may remember as the
spokesperson for Folgers Coffee in the 1960s and 1970s, is featured in the 1946
version of The Killers as Ole’s girlfriend (before he meets Kitty
Collins). Christine also appeared in the1964 remake, as a blind secretary.
Also among the film’s supporting cast was Jeff
Corey, who played a fidgety hood known as Blinky Franklin. In Corey’s best
scene in the film, his character is seen on his deathbed, hallucinating about
his role in the payroll robbery. According to Corey, this scene served as his
audition for the picture: “Afterward, the film’s director whispered to me, ‘You
got the part,’” Corey said in a 2001 interview. “It was a thrilling thing to
do. An interesting part – a wonderful movie.”
Burt Lancaster’s part in The Killers marked his screen debut and turned him into a star. He was 32 years old. Others considered for the role included Van Heflin and Sonny Tufts. Lancaster once said that Hellinger hired him for the part because “I was the cheapest thing in town.”
The Killers, Shadows and Light
The makeup in the film was provided courtesy of Universal’s Jack Pierce, who was much better known as the designer of the studio’s stable of monsters, including Dracula, Frankenstein and his bride, The Mummy, and the Wolf Man. The year after the premiere of The Killers, Pierce was replaced at Universal by Bud Westmore. There are a number of theories on why he was released, but it’s commonly held that Pierce was set in his ways and the studio wanted someone with newer, faster methods.
Artist Edward Hopper’s most famous painting, Nighthawks, was reportedly inspired by Hemingway’s short story.
The film’s score was composed by Miklós Rózsa; whenever the two killers of the title appear, the audience hears a theme that was later expanded and adapted as the familiar music in TV’s Dragnet.
And that’s it! I hope this list contained at least a few tidbits that you didn’t already know. Stay tuned for future Noir Nooks for trivia on your favorite noirs!
…
– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub
Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages. If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here:
Thoughts of flying saucers and alien invasions make me nervous.
Though intrigued by the concept enough as a kid to watch movies and read books on the topic, the fact that flying saucers could be real freak me out. (I remember reading War of the Worlds when I was about 10 and pulling the shade down in my bedroom because the alien images were too vibrant in my mind.)
That fear of UFOs isn’t unique to me, nor is it new. In 1947, pilot Kenneth Arnold reported seeing nine objects flying in a “V” formation near Mount Rainier, Washington. They were skipping across the sky like saucers, he said, and the name stuck.
The aliens attack a scientific facility early in Earth vs. the Flying Saucers.
Then in
1949, former Marine Corps naval aviator Donald E. Keyhoe, who became a UFO
researcher, wrote an article called Flying Saucers Are Real that was
published in the January 1950 issue of True magazine. It was such a
popular article that he quickly expanded it into a best-selling book.
Keyhoe
wasn’t alone in writing about UFOs. Other articles, books and movies fed into a
prevalent fear during the 1950s that UFO’s were real.
That was one of things addressed by filmmaker Joe Dante before he introduced Earth vs. the Flying Saucers at the 2025 Turner Classic Movie Film Festival. Dante is a great fan of these classic films and to have him share his passion and behind-the-scenes knowledge is a unique experience not to be missed.
“It was something that people just took as part of their life,” Dante said about the fear of UFOs during his introduction. “They would ask themselves: Are they real? Are they here?”
In 1955, Columbia Pictures had a hit with the low-budget It Came from Beneath the Sea, a giant octopus film produced by Sam Katzman and Charles Schneer that benefited from the great talents of Ray Harryhausen. Filmed for only $150,000, it made more than $1.7 million and you know what that means: the studio wanted more.
Katzman believed Keyhoe’s book would be a great basis for a new sci-fi film to make with Harryhausen so it was loosely used for what became Earth vs. the Flying Saucers. (The film’s opening credits read: Screen story by Curt Siodmak, suggested by the book Flying Saucers Are Real by Major Donald E. Keyhoe.)
Aliens destroy familiar sites in Washington, D.C. during a lengthy battle in Earth vs. the Flying Saucers.
I’m not sure that I ever watched Earth vs. the Flying Saucers in its entirety before I saw it at the TCM festival or if it was familiar because of its famous images of flying saucers destroying such iconic sites as the Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial, but it was fun to watch. As Dante said, “It helps if you channel your inner 10-year-old when you’re watching this movie.” It was good advice.
That end sequence, which takes the last 12 minutes of the film, is so impressive and unlike anything that had been seen on film, that it inspired filmmakers for decades and Harryhausen’s footage of the saucers were often used in other films.
“The interesting thing about it
is that there’s so much destruction at the end of this movie that it’s
virtually a template for everything that came after. There would be no Independence
Day if it wasn’t for this picture,” Dante said, referencing Roland
Emmerich’s big-budget 1996 alien invasion spectacle.
Hugh Marlowe and Joan Taylor try to save the world from an alien invasion in Earth vs. the Flying Saucers.
The movie
“Since Biblical times, man has witnessed and recorded
strange manifestations in the sky and speculated on the possibility of visitors
from another world.”
That’s the voice-over opening Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, a device often used in 1950s B-movie films to explain what’s happening in a budget-friendly way.
It’s only two hours after their wedding but scientist Dr. Russell A. Marvin (played by Hugh Marlowe) and his wife and secretary Carol, (Joan Taylor), are on their way to the Hemispheric Defense Command Headquarters in Colorado Springs, for the launch of the 11th of 12 artificial satellites or “birds” that Russell is overseeing as part of his Project Skyhook.
To their disbelief, a flying saucer hovers over their car and disappears. No one will believe them, of course, but a recorder picked up the whirly sounds of the saucers. (What you’re hearing is the real sound of a waste treatment plant.)
Joan’s dad is Brigadier General John Hanley (he’s played by Morris Ankrum with his usual sturdy authority) who has just returned from surveying the damage of a meteor strike in Panama. But it wasn’t a meteor, he tells them, it was one of the satellites. In fact, most of the satellites have fallen to the ground around the world, almost like they were shot down and destroyed. And that’s exactly what happened.
The aliens destroyed the satellites believing they were weapons being used against them, later realizing they were only “primitive observation” machines. (You can’t help but feel the aliens are mocking the humans.)
While it sounds like the aliens may have come in peace and just want to protect themselves, they haven’t.
A force field protects the aliens leaving a flying saucer in Earth vs. the Flying Saucers.
The flying saucer sound captured on tape was a message to Russell that didn’t fully come through so he misses a meeting with them. The aliens – called “creatures” in this film – wanted to share their demands with him. When he didn’t show up, they destroyed the 12th rocket and the entire Project Skyhook. Hundreds were killed with only the Marvins surviving because they were in a basement bunker.
Russell eventually hears the message and contacts them, learning the awful truth of why they are there: They are survivors of a disintegrated solar system and wish to take over Earth.
Poor Morris Ankrum has his mind mined for information by aliens through the Infinitely Indexed Memory Bank.
He sees some of their advanced technology. A language translating device that looks like a big white flower (there is a large one in their ship and mini versions in their helmets) is used to communicate with humans. The awesomely named Infinitely Indexed Memory Bank is a ray that pulls knowledge out of humans, turning them zombie-like. And they have force fields around their ships which make it impossible to destroy them. (The aliens in big black suits outside of the saucers can be killed with bullets – if you can get off the shots before they incinerate you with their death rays.)
The aliens are here for business and when Russell can’t get
them what they want, they take over all electronic devices for 12 hours to repeat
this warning around the world: “People of Earth attention … this is a voice
speaking to you from thousands of miles beyond your planet … look to your sun
for a warning.”
His suit may look clunky, but this alien’s ray gun will disintegrate anything in its path.
They talk of explosions on the sun which cause all sorts of turmoil and technical issues on Earth – tidal waves, earthquakes and more – during the eight days leading up to the invasion.
But the title of the film is Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, so expect a battle. While conventional weapons don’t work on the saucers, Russell and other scientists work feverishly on a sonic weapon in hopes of knocking saucers out of the sky. Can they get it right on time?
Out of this world effects
Though Earth vs. the Flying Saucers was one of the big special effects movies of 1956, its achievements were not honored. “Did anybody say anything about it? No. Why? It was a Sam Katzman movie,” Dante said, and was not going to honor Katzman – a producer known for being cheap – or give him an Oscar. “They were embarrassed by Sam and Sam was embarrassed because he was just raking in the dough.”
It may not have won an Oscar, but nearly 70 years later we can still marvel at Harryhausen’s flying saucers.
In his book The Art of Ray Harryhausen, the artist calls the saucers “the real stars of the film.” Dante said creating them was more complex for Harryhausen than in making some of the creatures in his previous films like that giant octopus.
The group of scientists trying to save the world from aliens through the use of sound.
“It was much more complicated than doing a cyclops or a dragon, because it had to be sustained and then at various points, it had to hit things and knock them over,” Dante explained about the saucers. “So every falling rock is hand-done by Ray with strings and done one frame at a time. The result is remarkable. This had a reality to it that is unique. And the movie itself is also pretty good.”
Part of that is through Harryhausen’s
use of stock footage, which Dante called “brilliant.”
“He managed to use actual stock
footage of planes crashing and put his own flying saucers in it. And because he
was such a master of lighting, the illusion is perfect. It’s pretty remarkable
for the period.”
Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at
The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is a member
and board chair of the Classic
Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo
chapter of TCM Backlot and led the offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs.
She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the
spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can
find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto or on Bluesky at @watchingforever.bsky.social
I happened
to watch both the 1941 adaptation of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and the
1956 science fiction classic, Forbidden Planet, in the last few weeks,
and the thematic overlap between the two movies inspired me to think about the
ways in which classic films grapple with the dark side of human nature. It’s a
common enough theme in science fiction, horror, and film noir, all genres that
allow us to peel back the veneer of civilized life and examine the brutality
still seething underneath. While the narrative framework that explores our dark
side often relies on the fantastic – serums, experiments, supernatural events,
and so forth – our stories inevitably return to the issue because human cruelty
and violence constantly threaten our very real existence. When they erupt into plain
sight as murders, wars, and political oppression, we look to literature and
film to help us understand why our capacity to commit these horrors persists in
spite of all our supposed progress. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, adapted
from the 1886 novella by Robert Louis Stevenson and a remake of the 1931 film
starring Fredric March, offers a Victorian view of humanity’s inability to
separate itself from its unevolved, bestial nature, while Forbidden Planet
flings us into the future and simultaneously evokes Shakespeare’s 17th
century play, The Tempest, to engage many of the same issues. In both
films, powerful men become a threat to everyone around them when they lose the
constraints of reason, empathy, and conscience, and it’s up to others to stop
their destructive rampages.
Walter Pidgeon plays the secretive and controlling Dr. Morbius in Forbidden Planet.
The
protagonists in the two movies have a lot in common. Both Dr. Jekyll (Spencer
Tracy) and Dr. Morbius (Walter Pidgeon) are motivated by their scientific
curiosity to experiment on themselves, although only Jekyll knows that he is
playing with the dark side of human nature in his tests. Both men have a high
regard for their own intelligence and consider themselves above the other men
around them (they don’t regard the women in this consideration at all). Both
are the beneficiaries of a system that gives men of their class access to
education, authority, and status, with Morbius becoming absolute ruler in an
empire that consists only of himself and his daughter. Our stories are full of
such men, from Victor Frankenstein and Dr. Griffin (aka The Invisible Man) to Aldrich
Killian in the MCU, and none of those stories ends well, but hubris tells each
newcomer that his plans are better than all of those that failed. Jekyll
believes he can separate the good and evil sides of human nature, while Morbius
believes he can control the ancient, alien technology of the mysterious Krell.
Both men are correct to some degree, but where they err, they do so
disastrously, with Jekyll setting free his sadistic Hyde persona and Morbius
unleashing his nameless id monster.
In Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1941), Spencer Tracy’s usual features are contorted to express Hyde’s sadistic nature.
The id
monsters in both films are violent murderers who enact urges that their
creators repress and even refuse to acknowledge, because to do so would admit
their own flawed natures. Jekyll cannot articulate his sexual frustration about
his long-delayed marriage to Beatrix (Lana Turner), so Hyde becomes a rapist
and abuser to the unfortunate Ivy (Ingrid Bergman). Morbius cannot control his
resentment when his daughter, Altaira (Anne Francis), chooses to leave with
handsome Commander Adams (Leslie Nielsen), just as he could not control it when
his fellow colonists chose to leave the planet years before, so his id monster
lashes out to destroy everyone who defies his will. In both cases, the id
monsters attack anyone who opposes them but seem to harbor particular malice
toward women, suggesting a deep vein of misogyny running beneath the
high-mindedness of both men. These are men who expect women to obey them in
every way, whether they be wives, mistresses, or daughters, and any rebellion
or hesitation is met with the unleashed violence of the id that is otherwise so
carefully hidden from view. In the same way, real-life abusers hide their
violent sides from neighbors, friends, and family so that others don’t suspect
the monsters they become in private. Hyde torments Ivy instead of pursuing
Beatrix because Beatrix is too public a victim as the daughter of the wealthy
and important Sir Charles Emery (Donald Crisp), but Ivy has no such protection,
and Jekyll’s unacknowledged attraction to Ivy fuels Hyde’s cruelty toward her. Morbius’
id monster is literally invisible except when hit by force fields and blaster
fire, a secret he keeps even from himself until Altaira becomes his next
intended victim. Morbius loves his daughter and wants to protect her, but he
also wants to punish her. For years she has belonged to him alone, never
questioning or disobeying him in any way, but now she is a grown-up young woman
with desires of her own, especially where Commander Adams is concerned. Unable
to process his paternal emotions, Morbius unwittingly summons the id monster to
destroy his child.
In Forbidden Planet, Commander Adams (Leslie Nielsen) and Lt. Ostrow (Warren Stevens) ponder the true nature of the invisible monster.
Like most
of their brethren in literature and film, the two doctors eventually pay for
their transgressions with their lives, but only Morbius achieves redemption by
recognizing the darkness as part of himself. In Shakespeare’s play, the
magician Prospero claims his brutal servant, Caliban, when he says, “This thing
of darkness I acknowledge mine” (Act 5, Scene I). In the same way, Morbius has
to admit that the id monster is part of him before he can dispel it and save
Altaira. He only reaches this epiphany because Lt. Ostrow (Warren Stevens)
sacrifices himself to the Krell’s brain machine in order to be intelligent
enough to figure out the nature of the invisible creature, and Commander Adams
then insists that Morbius heed Ostrow’s dying words. Jekyll never achieves this
kind of insight, and his rampage as Hyde only ends because his friends and the
police kill him. With the help of a determined intervention, Morbius comes back
to reason and saves his daughter, but Hyde must be put down like the rabid
beast he has become. Perhaps the 1956 science fiction film is more optimistic
about a person’s ability to face his own inner demons than the Victorian horror
story, given that the movie ends with Commander Adams assuring Altaira that her
father’s reputation will one day be lauded across the stars, but in both
stories it’s clear that other people must intervene to call out, oppose, and be
willing to stop the carnage of the unrestrained id. Jekyll and Morbius were
never going to confront or restrain their monstrous urges on their own, no
matter how many people suffered as a result.
In his lab, Dr. Jekyll foolishly experiments on himself even after his tests with animals have failed.
While stories about mad scientists and manifestations of the Freudian id might seem far removed from reality, films like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Forbidden Planet remind us to beware of the darkness inside all human beings, but especially in those with power to let loose their monstrous urges on the larger world. We keep remaking Frankenstein, The Invisible Man, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and other, similar stories because we keep seeing real-life embodiments of the monstrous id wreak havoc on our world, whether they’re celebrities, tech billionaires, autocrats, or mass shooters. Leigh Whannell’s 2020 revision of The Invisible Man, for example, reimagines the title character as an abusive tech CEO. For a recent film that brings all of these concerns together, see the newest release in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America: Brave New World (2025), in which Harrison Ford plays a United States President who struggles with his own monstrous side. The Hulk is, after all, just another manifestation of the Jekyll/Hyde duality and the destructive urges that lurk beneath even the most scientific mind.
Marcia Mae Jones was born on August 1, 1924, in Los Angeles,
California, to William and Margaret Freda Jones. She was the youngest of four
children, with siblings Margaret, Macon, and Marvin.
When Jones was two years old, she made her film debut playing a baby in Mannequin (1926). Reportedly, director James Cruze saw her in her baby carriage and she received the role. Largely propelled by her mother, who was also an actress, Jones was soon routinely appearing in films from this point onward. She had a bit part as a flower girl in King of Jazz (1930) during the “My Bridal Veil” sequence, in addition to roles in Street Scene (1931) and Night Nurse (1931). Incidentally, she portrayed a flower girl again in What Price Hollywood? (1932) and Employee’s Entrance (1933). At age 6, she was a founding member of the Screen Actors Guild.
Marcia Mae Jones (These Three, 1936)
By the 1930s, she was established as a child star. She
performed in The Champ (1931) and
worked alongside Shirley Temple in Heidi (1937)
and The Little Princess (1939). Along
the way, she could also be spotted in These
Three (1936), The Garden of Allah
(1936), The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1938),
and Anne of the Windy Poplars (1940).
As entered her teenage years, her film career continued with
First Love (1939) alongside Deanna
Durbin. She signed with Monogram Pictures in 1940, where she appeared in romances
and action-comedies.
In 1943, she married Merchant Marine Robert Chic, with whom
she had two children: Robert “Denny” and Tim. They divorced in 1951.
By the 1950s, she appeared on television, including working
as Buster Keaton’s comic foil in his television series. She also performed in
other hit shows, including The George
Burns and Gracie Allen Show, Peyton Place, and General Hospital. In 1952, she was simultaneously working as a
switchboard operator for the Greg Bautzer Law Firm.
In 1955, she married television writer William Davenport. Tragically,
Davenport committed suicide in 1989. Moreover, Jones struggled with alcoholism
as acting roles waned. After turning to pursuing a degree in religious science,
she later addressed and conquered her dependency issues. Her
final feature film role was in The Way They Were (1973), though she
continued appearing on television into the 1980s.
Jones became a member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts
and Sciences. She passed away on September 2, 2007, at the Motion Picture and
Television Hospital in Woodland Hills, California, from complications from
pneumonia. She was 83 years old.
In 1930, Jones and her family lived at 907 N. Stanley Ave.,
West Hollywood, California. The home stands today.
907 N. Stanley Ave., West Hollywood, CA
In 1940, the family relocated to 726 N. Curson Ave., Los
Angeles, California. This home also exists.
726 N. Curson Ave., Los Angeles, CA
In 1950, Jones and Chic resided at 840 S. Dunsmuir Ave., Los
Angeles, California, along with her parents. This home also stands.
Annette Bochenek of Chicago, Illinois, is a PhD student at Dominican University and an independent scholar of Hollywood’s Golden Age. She manages the Hometowns to Hollywood blog, in which she writes about her trips exploring the legacies and hometowns of Golden Age stars. Annette also hosts the “Hometowns to Hollywood” film series throughout the Chicago area. She has been featured on Turner Classic Movies and is the president of TCM Backlot’s Chicago chapter. In addition to writing for Classic Movie Hub, she also writes for Silent Film Quarterly, Nostalgia Digest, and Chicago Art Deco SocietyMagazine.
Over the
last few years I’ve periodically reviewed new-to-me Westerns with one of my
favorite Western stars, Audie Murphy.
Previous Murphy Westerns reviewed in this column areDestry (1954), Seven Ways From Sundown (1960), Hell Bent for Leather(1960), and Showdown (1963). I loved the first three and had mixed feelings about the last film on that list, Showdown.
This
month I’m taking a look at another Audie Murphy film, Apache Rifles (1964),
which has the latest release date of his films reviewed here to this point. It
was filmed in May 1964, when Audie was 39, and released the following November.
The film
is set in Arizona of the late 1870s. Audie plays Army officer Captain Jeff
Stanton, charged with the responsibility of returning Apache Indians to their
reservation.
Captain
Stanton feels animosity toward Indians, who killed his father years before, but
he’s also a responsible and ethical man and successfully negotiates a truce
with Victorio (Joseph A. Vitale) and his son Red Hawk (Michael Dante).
Some
local miners are upset about being forced off Apache land as part of the peace
agreement and complain to higher-ups in Washington. This results in Captain
Stanton being replaced by Colonel Perry (John Archer), who also dismantles the
patrol system set up by Captain Stanton to protect the Apaches from the miners.
Bloody conflicts ensue.
This is
a solid Western which runs a well-paced 92 minutes. The screenplay was written
by Charles Smith from a story by Kenneth Gamet and Richard Schayer.
It was
filmed by Arch R. Dalzell and directed by longtime Western specialist William
Witney, whose work in Westerns went back to the late ’30s. Witney directed
countless Roy Rogers films, among other Westerns, and also worked extensively
in television.
I’ve had
the pleasure of meeting Witney’s son at the Lone Pine Film Festival and hearing
some of his memories of his father’s career. William Witney wrote a uniquely
titled memoir, In a Door, Into a Fight, Out a Door, Into a Chase:
Moviemaking Remembered by the Guy at the Door.
I found the Apache Rifles story a little
top-heavy in battle sequences, but that’s balanced by fast-paced plotting and
interesting characters.
Murphy brings depth to Captain Jeff Stanton, as his
character wrestles with multiple conflicts: Wariness of Indians due to family
history vs. the fact he’s a good man at heart; loyalty to the army vs. dismay
when Col. Perry goes back on Jeff’s word to the Indians; love for a beautiful
half-breed missionary, Dawn (Linda Lawson), vs. his feelings about Indians.
Among these dilemmas, I especially liked the fact that Jeff
struggled a bit with his feelings for the spunky Dawn; she’s thoughtful, but no
shy and retiring miss, and I liked their repartee. In my opinion the film would
have benefited from a couple more minutes spent on their relationship, with a
little less action on the battlefield.
One of the most interesting characters in the film is the
doctor (J. Pat O’Malley) who reminds Captain Stanton that everyone is the same
on the inside. Archer also does well as Col. Perry, who initially comes across
as rather unpleasant but proves in the end to be more willing to recognize
Captain Stanton’s strengths than we might expect.
Peter Hansen, later a star of TV’s General Hospital for
decades, plays the captain Jeff relieves of duty at the beginning of the movie.
Hansen’s first film, back in 1950, was the Alan Ladd Western Branded (1950),
and as a producer Ladd cast Hansen in a trio of films in the ’50s, including
the Western Drum Beat (1954).
The cast also includes L.Q. Jones, Ken Lynch, Robert
Brubaker, Eugene Iglesias, and Robert Karnes.
The film benefits strongly from extensive location
shooting, mostly at Red Rock Canyon. The majority of the scenes are exteriors,
which contribute enormously to the movie’s feeling of authenticity. Moreover, I
don’t believe any of the exteriors were faked in a soundstage.
Over the decades countless Westerns, horror, and sci-film
movies filmed at Red Rock Canyon, which I’ve visited several times. Here’s a
selection of photos I took at Red Rock Canyon a couple of years ago.
The movie also shot at Bronson Canyon, which I wrote about here in a locations column in 2022.
I viewed Apache Rifles via a new Blu-ray I
purchased which was released by Kit Parker films. It’s a 4K transfer from the
original 35mm camera negative, and it looks terrific.
Apache Rifles is presented on the
Blu-ray with optional English subtitles, and it has an informative featurette
on the film’s background narrated by Westerns historian Toby Roan. The
featurette runs a little over six and a half minutes.
The film is part of a “Saddle Up Western Double Feature” disc with a similarly restored version of a favorite Rod Cameron Western, Panhandle (1948), which I wrote about here in Hidden Gems, Vol. 1. The double feature set is available in both Blu-ray and DVD editions.
Like Apache Rifles, Panhandle comes with an introduction by Toby Roan which runs just over six minutes. I’m looking forward to revisiting Panhandle soon and checking out the restored print.
…
– Laura Grieve for Classic Movie Hub
Laura can be found at her blog, Laura’s Miscellaneous Musings, where she’s been writing about movies since 2005, and on Twitter at @LaurasMiscMovie. A lifelong film fan, Laura loves the classics including Disney, Film Noir, Musicals, and Westerns. She regularly covers Southern California classic film festivals. Laura will scribe on all things western at the ‘Western RoundUp’ for CMH.
There are numerous noirs that I could among my favorites,
and countless features from the era that I watch over and over again. Sunset
Blvd. (1950) fits both of these descriptors. As one of the film’s reviewers
raved, it’s “undoubtedly the best Hollywood story ever filmed.” For my money,
it’s practically perfect in every way – stellar casting, perfect direction, and
sharp, smart writing brimming with unforgettable and endlessly quotable lines.
Helmed by Billy Wilder (who co-wrote the screenplay with
Charles Brackett and D.M. Marshman, Jr.), Sunset Blvd. tells the story
of Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson), an eccentric former silent screen star who
lives in a world of her own, and Joe Gillis (William Holden), a struggling
screenwriter who finds himself inextricably ensconced in Norma’s orbit. Joining
these two to form a creepy quartet are Max von Mayerling (Erich von Stroheim),
Norma’s butler, right-hand man, and first husband, and Betty Schaefer (Nancy
Olson), a sweet, young aspiring writer who gets more than she bargains for when
she falls for Joe.
This month’s Noir Nook shines the spotlight on Sunset Blvd. classic by serving up 10 things you may not have known about this unforgettable film.
…..
1) In early versions of the screenplay, the William Holden character was named Dan, then Dick (later changed to Joe); the producer played by Fred Clark was named Kaufman (later Sheldrake); Gillis’s car was a 1941 Buick convertible, instead of the 1946 Plymouth that Holden drove in the film; and Norma Desmond’s sought-after car was originally a Rolls Royce and then a Hispano -Suiza, before finally landing on the Isotta-Fraschini used in the movie. (By the way, Norma Desmond shared that she paid $28,000 for the car in 1932, which would equal approximately $649,250 in 2025 dollars.) Also, in the original script, Gloria was writing her memoirs when she encountered Joe Gillis; in the final version, this was changed to the screenplay for Salome.
2) Originally, the story for Sunset Blvd. started with the body of Joe Gillis being transported to the city morgue. Once there, Joe and his fellow morgue-mates begin to talk about how they came to their respective ends. When the film – with this opening – was screened in Evanston, Illinois, and Poughkeepsie and Great Neck, New York, the preview audiences laughed at the morgue scene. “I walked out of the preview,” director Billy Wilder recalled years later, “Very depressed.” The scene was scrapped.
3) The revised – and final – opening scene shows Joe lying face down in a swimming pool, dead, with the audience looking up at Joe’s body from below. To set up this show, the film’s art director, John Meehan, placed an 8×6-foot dance rehearsal mirror at the bottom of a portable process tank, and sank the tank to the bottom of the pool. Cinematographer John Seitz set up the camera at poolside, pointed it downward toward the mirror, and filmed Holden’s reflection. (The water temperature, incidentally, had to be kept at around 40 degrees to avoid the build-up of natural gases that would impact the light transmission.)
4) The exteriors for the film were shot at the William O. Jenkins house at the corner of Wilshire and Irving Boulevards in Los Angeles. Jenkins, who was said to have been the richest man in Mexico, built the house in the early 1920s, but he only lived in it for about a year. It sat vacant for a decade before it was sold to millionaire J. Paul Getty. In the early 1950s, Getty initiated plans to develop the property and, despite community opposition and a lawsuit to preserve the mansion, Getty had the structure torn down in 1957. (A few years before its demolition, the house was used for filming in the 1955 James Dean feature, Rebel Without a Cause.)
5) Gloria Swanson stood just four feet, 11 inches – although she claimed to be five foot one.
6) Throughout the film, Max never calls Norma Desmond by name, always referring to her as “Madame” – until the last scene, when he asks her, “Are you ready, Norma?”
William Holden and Gloria Swanson
7) In one scene, we see Joe and Norma watching one of her old movies; the clip shown in the film is from an actual movie – Queen Kelly – that starred Swanson and was directed by Erich von Stroheim. With less than half of the film completed, von Stroheim was fired from the film for going over budget and it was never released in the United States.
8) When Nancy Olson was cast as Betty Schaeffer, she was only 21 years old and had never even heard of Gloria Swanson. “I had to ask my mother who she was!” she said in a recent interview.
Nancy Olson and William Holden
9) At the time that Sunset Blvd. was filmed, Hollywood had two top gossip columnists: Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons. Hopper played a small part in the picture. According to one story, Parsons was asked to appear in the film as well, but she turned down the invitation when she found out that Hopper had been signed first. Another story states that Parsons was never offered a part, and that Hopper was selected because she’d had a previous career as an actress. In addition, another gossip columnist of the day, Sidney Skolsky, was filmed in a scene set in Schwab’s Drugstore, but his performance ended up on the proverbial cutting room floor. Wilder later claimed that Skolsky panned the film because “I cut him out.”
10) The film was nominated for 11 Academy Awards, but only won three – for best art direction, best original story and best screenplay, and best scoring of a dramatic or comedy picture. As for the other categories, Swanson lost the Best Actress Oscar to Judy Holliday for Born Yesterday, William Holden lost Best Actor to Jose Ferrer in Cyrano de Bergerac, Nancy Olson lost Best Supporting Actress to Josephine Hull in Harvey, and von Stroheim lost Best Supporting Actor to George Sanders in All About Eve. Also, in the category of Best Film, Sunset lost to All About Eve.
And that’s it! I hope this list contained at least a few tidbits that you didn’t already know. Stay tuned for future Noir Nooks for trivia on your favorite noirs!
…
– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub
Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages. If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here:
A Kidnapping with Unexpected Bite Turns a Thriller into a Horror Film
One of nature’s most powerful killing machines is loose. Not
only is it the deadliest in its class, but the fastest, too. Beyond its
physical abilities are its lethal personality traits: it is unpredictable, paranoid
and deadly aggressive.
That’s the key to the 1981 British horror thriller Venom (unrelated to the Marvel character). Think of it as a variation on O. Henry’s The Ransom of Red Chief, where kidnappers get more than they bargained for after abducting a wealthy man’s spoiled child. Venom makes that story look like child’s play as the kidnappers of a British boy face the world’s most dangerous snake, the black mamba.
The black mamba killing machine slithers into the most unexpected places in Venom.
Venom also has a great cast with Klaus Kinski, Oliver Reed, Susan George, Nicol Williamson, Sterling Hayden and Sarah Miles. (It’s not hard to figure out who plays the bad guys.)
Young Tommy is a smart, likable 10-year-old with asthma, an overprotective mother and a “zoo” off his bedroom with adorable bunnies, birds and gerbils. We meet him reading an oversized book on snakes as his wealthy mom is fussing over him being outside. Grandpa, played by the reliable Sterling Hayden, is a world-renowned hunter and wildlife authority, which will come in handy.
Time is not wasted on playing coy with the identity of the bad guys or in setting up the kidnapping. We know all early with the introduction of the lovely housekeeper Louise (played by Susan George) who has seduced the family chauffeur Dave (the great Oliver Reed) into becoming part of the scheme. His role in the caper is to get Tommy’s mom on a flight to Rome, leaving the boy in the three-story townhouse alone with Louise.
These two guys just don’t get along. Klaus Kinski stars as the mastermind of a kidnapping plot who picks on his weak co-conspirator Oliver Reed throughout Venom.
Dave drops off mom, then immediately picks up a man in a white trench coat with a thick accent and shock of blonde hair. (His photo would work in the dictionary under “stylish European movie villain,” like we would later enjoy personified by Alan Rickman in Die Hard.) Played by Klaus Kinski, you’ll believe it when he leaves the much more physically menacing Oliver Reed quivering with a simple slap across the face.
The bad guys have rented a secluded house with a bedroom set up for the boy with the same breathing machine he has at home, books and a metal grate across a window. It was a lot of work for nothing since they’ll never make it there. Everything that can go wrong will, trapping the kidnappers, Tommy and Grandpa in the townhouse with a killer snake inside and the police outside.
* * * * *
Sarah Miles discovers something is wrong after a harmless snake has been delivered to her lab instead of the dangerous black mamba in Venom.
How did we get there?
At the London Institute of Toxicology something is wrong with a new snake. “It’s not a mamba – it’s not attacking anything,” the lab assistant says to his boss, Dr. Marion Stowe (Sarah Miles).
But we know what happened: There was a mix-up at the “pet shop” where Tommy was mistakenly given the mamba to take home and his African house snake – a harmless pet – was delivered to the institute.
The kidnapping plot is thrown off from Tommy’s impromptu visit to the pet shop, his insistence on opening the small crate to see his new pet snake and Grandpa’s early arrival home. Then there’s the policeman sent to the townhouse to inquire about the snake and – did I mention the nervous chauffeur has a gun?
Sterling Hayden protects his terrified grandson played by Lance Holcomb from kidnappers and a killer snake in Venom.
Venom is an engaging, multilayered thriller. There’s only one snake in the film, but it’s the worst in the world, and I found it more terrifying than films with multiple snakes or even a giant one because you don’t see this one coming.
Death via a mamba is excruciating – there’s no eating you in one bite and getting it over with. Instead, it’s a slow, agonizing death from the mamba’s venom and, as the saying goes, it’s not something to wish on your worst enemy.
It looks so calm and pretty – but it’s the world’s most dangerous snake.
The snake’s-eye view of the surroundings works well because it is used sparingly and in the right situations such as when it enters the “zoo” in Tommy’s bedroom where the mamba sees his prey in the sweet pets like the ill-fated bunny.
Venom does get crazy at times because there’s so much going on but that’s good for the viewer. Tommy and his Grandpa are fighting to survive the kidnappers and the snake. The bad guys – who don’t play well with each other – are battling threats from the black mamba and the police while still thinking they can salvage their kidnapping plot. And it is fun to watch the imposing Oliver Reed play a sweaty, nervous guy who unravels before our eyes.
The police, led by Nicol Williamson and his great screen presence, have their hands full trying to subdue the kidnappers, fend off the snake and keep innocents alive. Things don’t even go right all the time for them despite the help of the toxicologist.
This great shot shows how things are unraveling as a nervous chauffeur with a gun awaits the other kidnappers and young boy trying to escape a deadly snake.
Venom is an engaging, multilayered thriller and that’s what I like most about it. Take take away the horror element and you’re left with a solid thriller that stands on its own. Adding the killer snake means there’s no respite for the viewer who, like the characters, is caught up in the whirlwind of so much that has gone wrong.
And though there’s only one snake in the film, it’s the worst in the world, and I found it more terrifying than movies with multiple snakes or even a giant one because you don’t see this one coming.
We expect the snake will get in and out of small spaces, but there is something deeply menacing about the way the mambo easily slithers through the house – and especially the air ducts – that gives the film a relentless tension. It could be anywhere – and is everywhere. That’s a deadly lesson you don’t want to learn.
* * * * *
A newly remastered 4K version DVD/Blu-Ray of Venom is now available via Blue-Underground with new features including an interview with makeup artist Nick Dudman and editor/second unit director Michael Bradsell, along with previously released extras.
Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is a member and board president of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and led the offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs. She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto or on Bluesky at @watchingforever.bsky.social
Capitalizing
on nuclear anxiety, Them! (1954) helped to usher in a new era of monster
movies guaranteed to give post-WWII Americans nightmares about the possible
consequences of the Atomic Age. In Japan, this metaphorical threat took the colossal
form of Godzilla, who also made his debut in 1954, but Them! suggests
that no place on Earth is safe, not even the middle of the desert. Creepy
creature and alien movies would become standards for the growing drive-in
culture and the teens who flocked there, but few of the later pictures boast
the same quality performances, practical effects work, and cinematography that
make Them! such an influential classic of the genre.
Sgt. Ben Peterson (James Whitmore) finds a traumatized little girl (Sandy Descher) wandering alone in the desert.
James
Whitmore stars as Sgt. Ben Peterson, a police officer whose beat covers a
desolate area of desert near White Sands, New Mexico. When Peterson and his
partner, Ed Blackburn (Chris Drake), find a young girl (Sandy Descher) alone
and catatonic, they at first suspect a psychopath, but the evidence soon shows
that no human being is behind the killings and destruction. FBI Agent Bob
Graham (James Arness) arrives on the scene and is soon followed by a father and
daughter pair of myrmecologists, Doctors Harold and Pat Medford (Edmund Gwenn
and Joan Weldon). Together they discover the giant mutant ants and pursue newly
hatched queens who could produce enough monstrous offspring to destroy
humanity.
Our core characters, including Pat’s father, Dr. Harold Medford (Edmund Gwenn), meet when the two myrmecologists arrive with a terrifying theory.
Sci-fi
movies of the 1950s are often derided for their wooden acting, but Them! features
an excellent cast that invests each character with personality and gravity.
Most modern viewers will find stars like James Arness, Edmund Gwenn, and even
Fess Parker more familiar, but James Whitmore is really the central hero of
this story, a regular guy driven first by his concern for the little girl and
then for his community, country, and planet as the scope of the threat becomes
clear. Whitmore had already earned an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting
Actor for his performance in Battleground (1949), and in 1975 he would
garner a nomination for Best Actor for the film adaptation of his one-man show,
Give ‘em Hell, Harry! (1975). Edmund Gwenn, who plays the elder Dr.
Medford, had actually won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for his
appearance as Santa Claus in Miracle on 34th Street (1947),
and he had picked up a second nomination for Mister 880 (1950). These
are lofty accolades for actors in a movie about giant ants, but even the less
lauded performers sell us on their characters and the peril they face. James
Arness is solid as Bob, a government man right down to his willingness to keep
a sane man locked up in a psych ward, and Fess Parker has a brief but memorable
scene as the unfortunate pilot Bob sacrifices to government secrecy.
Dr. Pat Medford (Joan Weldon) comes face to face with one of the giant mutant ants.
One of the
things I personally appreciate about this movie is its treatment of its female
characters. We only have two, but Them! would not be such a compelling
classic without them. Sandy Descher sets the tone for the whole movie with her
memorable performance as the sole survivor of the Ellinson family. Her blank
face and stare testify to unfathomable horror, and her plight makes the danger
personal rather than abstract. The film stays with her long enough to show us
her dramatic reawakening and assure us that she has extended family who will take
care of her, but it also uses her character to demonstrate the quiet decency of
Ben Peterson. When Pat Medford arrives, her presence sheds more light on Bob’s
character and its limitations, especially where his typically sexist attitudes
are concerned. Pat’s father is more enlightened, and I love the way he calls her
“Doctor” when they converse because he really sees her as a valuable and
respected peer. Pat pushes back against Bob’s chauvinism and courageously
enters the ants’ tunnels to ensure that all of the queens are destroyed, and
it’s exciting to see her suited up and plunging into the dark with the men. We
sense the low-key attraction between Pat and Bob, but the movie wisely keeps
the focus on their mission and never implies that Pat will or would even
consider giving up her important scientific work to wash socks for a husband. It’s
a shame that Them! didn’t inspire sequels to tell us more about the
later adventures of Pat Medford and even the Ellinson girl, who might have
grown up to join an agency like Godzilla’s Monarch organization. On the plus
side, their presence helps pave the way for later female characters in science
fiction, including iconic figures like Ripley and Newt in the Alien
franchise or Dr. Ellie Satler and Lex in the Jurassic Park series.
FBI Agent Bob Graham (James Arness) tries to ward off Pat’s attacker with a pistol.
In 2023, there were reports of director Michael Giacchino remaking Them! with a modern twist, but it’s unclear if the project has progressed since then. Gordon Douglas, who directed the original version, also directed Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye (1950), Only the Valiant (1951), and Robin and the 7 Hoods (1964), to name just a few. If you love Them! and the whole genre of giant monster movies, I do recommend the Apple TV+ series, Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, which has wrapped production on a second season. For more from the 1950s, see The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms (1953), Tarantula! (1955), Attack of the Crab Monsters (1957), The Blob (1958), and the wonderfully terrible Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959), which I particularly enjoy inflicting on my loved ones.
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