Classic Movie Hub Blog

Silents are Golden: Silent Directors – The Adventurous Nell Shipman

Posted on January 19, 2023 by Lea Stans

Silents are Golden: Silent Directors – The Adventurous Nell Shipman

Nell Shipman

It’s fascinating how many silent era directors were more than willing to risk life and limb in pursuit of authentic filming locations. Nell Shipman is a prominent example. Known mainly to silent film buffs today, she was an actress, producer and director who made adventure-themed films in her native Canada, at times in the most frigid and remote locations.

Shipman was born Helen Barham in 1892, to a middle-class family in Victoria, British Columbia. After spending her childhood in Canada her family decided to move to Seattle. In 1905, at only thirteen years old, she decided to become an actress and joined Paul Gilmore’s traveling stage company. During the next few years she grew accustomed to staying in cheap boarding houses and carefully tracking her pennies as the company toured the U.S.

Nell Shipman Young — a young Nell Shipman

While Shipman largely took the difficulties of stock company work in stride, one traumatic experience would have a large impact on her. In her autobiography The Silent Screen & My Talking Heart she described how she was followed back to her room one night and threatened with a knife. She never detailed precisely what followed, but in later years she thought her near-obsessive love of animals became a way of coping with that horrible event.

When she was 18 she married Ernest Shipman, the manager of a stage company in New York. In a couple years they would have a son, Barry, and would move to Hollywood to try their luck in the rapidly-growing film industry. Nell began working as a screenwriter while Ernest became a publicity man. Her acting debut was in the short The Ball of Yarn (1913), and after a couple more years of screenwriting she produced, directed and acted in God’s Country and the Woman (1915) for Vitagraph. This was the first of her films to revolve around capable women and wilderness settings, and she would often be referred to as “The Girl From God’s Country.”

Nell Shipman and bear — With one of her beloved bears.

Having snowy adventure-themed films in mind and wanting them set in her native Canada, Nell would partner with James Oliver Curwood to create the Shipman-Curwood Producing Company. Curwood was a prominent author famed for his novels set in the wilds of Alaska and the Yukon, and Nell wanted to adapt his story “Wapi the Walrus” for the big screen. Ernest created Canadian Photoplays Ltd. and found investors for the project, and soon Nell’s studio trekked to Alberta, Canada to film what would become Back to God’s Country (1919).

Their location was a tiny settlement by Lesser Slave Lake, 150 miles north of Edmonton, composed mainly of fishermen’s cabins with dirt floors and a dining hall. The winter temps would drop to as low as a bone-chilling 50 below zero, and they had to keep their cameras outdoors so temperature changes wouldn’t cause static. The cold made the two-week shoot not only a grueling experience, but a dangerous one. Director Bert Van Tuyle suffered a bad case of frostbite on his right foot, and actor Ronald Byran developed what turned out to be a fatal case of pneumonia.

Nell Shipman and the Trail of the North Wind (1923) crew, including her son Barry. — Shipman and the *Trail of the North Wind* (1923) crew, including her son Barry.

The completed Back to God’s Country did become a box office hit–in Canada it was the highest-grossing silent film of the entire era. It followed the story of Dolores, an attractive young woman living with her father in the Canadian wilderness. She marries Peter, a visitor from the city. Tragedy strikes when an outlaw sets his eye on her and ends up killing her father. When Peter is transferred to a remote northern location, the couple intends to journey there by ship. To Dolores’s horror, the captain is none other than the murderous outlaw. Peter gets injured, the ship gets trapped in ice, and Dolores must make a daring journey by dogsled to find the nearest doctor. A heroic dog named Wapi also helps to save the day. The film was not only exciting, but there was also a (tasteful) nude scene where Dolores is shown frolicking in a river–which was exploited by Ernest quite blatantly.

Back to God's Country movie poster — *Back to God’s Country* (1919)

The success of Back to God’s Country enabled Nell to keep making other adventurous films, such as Trail of the Arrow (1920) and the aptly-named The Girl from God’s Country (1921). By this time she had split from her husband Ernest, thanks to her long-time affair with Bert Van Tuyle. In 1922 she decided to move her company to Priest Lake in northern Idaho, a rustic location that wasn’t too far from Spokane. By this time she also had an impressive zoo of around 200 animals, including wolves, bears, cougars, porcupines, dogs, elk, and eagles, which were frequently featured in her films. To the amusement of the locals, her menagerie was also carted over to Priest Lake on a series of barges.

Nell Shipman bear — Another of Nell’s bears

It was during their first winter in Idaho that a frightening event took place that seemed to come straight from one of Nell’s films. Van Tuyle’s foot, which was still bothering him, developed gangrene and the pain and fever made him go quite literally insane. Nell found him outside hitching up the dog sled and then followed him as he impulsively drove across the frozen lake, refusing to stop. For hours she pursued him by snowshoe, and then with the dogsled when he abandoned it and kept feverishly trudging along, dragging his infected foot. When he finally collapsed they were found by two loggers, and with their help Nell managed to reach the nearest village. Van Tuyle was taken to a hospital and had three toes amputated.

Sadly, Nell’s filmmaking days would be numbered. An angry confrontation at a New Year’s Eve party ended her relationship with Van Tuyle, and her films were having increasingly high production costs. There were also rumors in the Priest Lake community that her animals were beginning to starve–whether from lack of funds, neglect, or the harsh winters seems unclear. She would declare bankruptcy in 1925 and her beloved animals would be taken away–some ended up at the San Diego zoo.

Nell Shipman Hat — Shipman has been credited as a writer, actress, director and producer

Nell and her son Barry would move to New York City, where Nell would marry painter Charles Ayres. They had two children, Charles and Daphne, but got divorced in 1934. Nell would keep busy with various writing projects, including her thoughtful autobiography, but never quite achieved a hoped-for comeback as an actress and director. She passed away in 1970, at the age of 77.

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–Lea Stans for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Lea’s Silents are Golden articles here.

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.

Posted in Posts by Lea Stans, Silents are Golden | Tagged Back to God's Country, Bert Ban Tuyle, God's Country and the Woman, Nell Shipman, Ronald Byran, silent film, silent movies, The Ball of Yarn, The Girl from God's Country, Trail of the Arrow | 3 Comments

Classic Movie Travels: Darla Hood

Posted on January 17, 2023 by Annette Bochenek

Classic Movie Travels: Darla Hood

Darla Hood

Darla Jean Hood was born on November 8, 1931, in Leedey, Oklahoma. She was born to James and Elizabeth Hood. James worked as a bank teller, while Elizabeth was a housewife. Elizabeth was instrumental in introducing Hood to song and dance, regularly taking her to music lessons in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. By her third birthday, Hood was scouted by Hal Roach Studios casting director Joe Rivkin. After a successful screen test, she and her family traveled to Culver City, California, so that she could appear in the Our Gang shorts.

Initially, she appeared in Our Gang as a character named Cookie. For all her other Our Gang appearances, she carried out the role of Darla. Her character was well-known for being the love interest of Alfalfa, as well as other characters on occasion. Among many screen appearances, she could be seen in Our Gang Follies of 1936 (1935) and The Bohemian Girl (1936) with Laurel and Hardy. Her final Our Gang appearance was in Wedding Worries (1941).

As she grew, she pursued more mature roles while attending Fairfax High School. Continuing to exhibit her vocal abilities, she organized a vocal group at Fairfax called the Enchanters, which featured her vocals and the back-up vocals provided by four male students. Upon graduation, the group was booked to partake in a variety show, remaining with Ken Murray’s Blackouts variety show throughout its run in New York City and Hollywood.

Hood married singer and insurance salesman Robert W. Decker in 1949. They divorced in 1957.

Later, Hood appeared solo in nightclubs and as a guest on television shows. She worked with ventriloquist Edgar Bergen as a leading actress in his sketches and performed regularly on The Merv Griffin Show. She also recorded several singles for Ray Note and Acama labels. Rivkin, who discovered her, saw the cover to one of her albums and eventually cast her in what would be her final film role and first adult role in a film—portraying a secretary in The Bat (1959) with Vincent Price.

Darla Hood as Judy Hollander in The Bat (1959) — Darla Hood as Judy Hollander in *The Bat* (1959)

Hood continued to appear as a guest on many television shows, including You Bet Your Life, The Jack Benny Show, and The Little Rascals Christmas Special. She sang and offered voiceovers on commercials for Campbell’s Soup and Chicken of the Sea tuna. Additionally, she carried out a nightclub act at the Coconut Grove in Los Angeles, California; Copacabana in New York, New York; as well as the Sahara Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada.

Hood married for the second time to record company executive Jose Granson in 1957, with whom she had three children and remained married until her passing.

Hood was working on organizing a 1989 Little Rascals reunion when she needed to undergo an appendectomy at Canoga Park Hospital. She passed away from heart failure on June 13, 1979. She was 47 years old. Hood is interred at Hollywood Forever Cemetery in Hollywood, California.

There are some locations of relevance to Hood that remain today. In 1940, Hood and her parents lived at 911 N. Alfred St., Los Angeles, California. This location no longer stands.

In 1956, she lived at 13802 Runnymede St., Van Nuys, California. The home still stands today.

Darla Hood's 1956 residence at 13802 Runnymede St., Van Nuys, California — Darla’s 1956 residence at 13802 Runnymede St., Van Nuys, California

Hollywood Forever Cemetery is located at 6000 Santa Monica Blvd., Los Angeles, California.

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–Annette Bochenek for Classic Movie Hub

Annette Bochenek pens our monthly Classic Movie Travels column. You can read all of Annette’s Classic Movie Travel articles here.

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.

Posted in Classic Movie Travels, Posts by Annette Bochenek | Tagged Darla Hood, Edgar Bergen, Laurel and Hardy, Little Rascals, Oliver Hardy, Our Gang Follies of 1936, Stan Laurel, The Bat, The Bohemian Girl, The Jack Benny Show, The Little Rascals Christmas Special, vincent price, Wedding Worries, You Bet Your Life | Leave a comment

Monsters and Matinees: A century later, Chaney’s ‘Hunchback’ still amazes

Posted on January 14, 2023 by Toni Ruberto

A century later, Chaney’s ‘Hunchback’ still amazes

If you were a moviegoer 100 years ago in 1923, you would have been treated to laughs courtesy of comedy greats Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton. You might have held your breath as Harold Lloyd hung dangerously from a clock high above a city street in Safety Last!

You would have been awed by the impressive parting of the Red Sea in Cecil B. DeMille’s big-screen spectacle The Ten Commandments, the biggest hit of 1923.

If you were looking to be frightened, your entertainment choices dwindled dramatically. The number of horror films released in 1923 could nearly be counted on one hand. But among the very few was something very special: Lon Chaney in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Esmeralda (Patsy Ruth Miller) shows kindness to the mistreated Quasimodo (the superb Lon Chaney) in the 1923 silent film *The Hunchback of Notre Dame*.

We can pause to acknowledge that not everyone considers Hunchback a horror film. If you don’t either, you’re in good company since the esteemed Christopher Lee didn’t think it was a horror film either. Nor did author Carlos Clarens who called the film a “historical spectacle rather than a horror film” in his Illustrated History of the Horror Film. More recently, an article in Paste magazine said it wasn’t hard to make the case that it was “more adventure or romantic drama than it is a horror film, save for one key characteristic: The iconic, unavoidably grotesque appearance of its title character.” (I would add it’s a beauty and the beast story of the most tragic kind.)

But there is horror in Hunchback that is found in its deep cruelty, brutality and malice that caused Variety to call the film a “two-hour nightmare” upon its release.

Chaney had long wanted to make a film of Victor Hugo’s 1831 novel about the mistreated Quasimodo, a deaf, half-blind and deformed man who is the bell ringer at the Cathedral of Notre Dame in 1482. As men of power, greed and lust use and abuse him, he falls in love with and protects lovely young Gypsy dancer Esmeralda. The story’s moral was to teach us not to judge people by how they look.

There were at least three film versions already made when Chaney started to explore his options. Alice Guy-Blanche and Victorin-Hippolyte Jasset co-directed a 10-minute French short called Esmeralda in 1905; a British short of the same name was released in 1922. Both, as expected from the title, focused on Esmeralda. A 26-minute version of the novel under the full title of Hunchback of Notre Dame was released in 1911.

In 1921, Chaney acquired the film rights and was willing to go the extra mile to get it done – even if it meant making it overseas. He had an early deal with the German studio, Chelsea Pictures Company which fell through. But the success of the Chaney films The Miracle Man (1919) and The Penalty (1920) helped Irving Thalberg convince Universal co-founder Carl Laemmle to make Hunchback, as the studio announced it would in August of 1922.

A page from Universal Weekly, a publication of Universal Studios, touts the announcement of Lon Chaney as *The Hunchback of Notre Dame*.

It wouldn’t be just any film either – it would be a movie of a scale so grand it had never been attempted by Universal before. It took six months to build a 19-acre set with a re-creation the Notre Dame Cathedral including its “Gallery of Kings” – the statues of each king of France that line the western façade – along with surrounding streets. So many extras were used for the film – hundreds were needed for the “Court of Miracles” scene alone – that 3,000 costumes had to be made.

Hunchback was filmed from Dec. 16, 1922 to June 8, 1923 and released on Sept. 6, 1923. The director was Wallace Worsley, an unusual choice at first glance, but he had worked with Chaney to great success on four other films.

At a final budget of about $1,250,000, it was the most expensive film Chaney ever made but it easily made back its budget by pulling in $3.5 million – a fortune in 1923. That box office figure is greater than even Chaney’s most famous film, The Phantom of the Opera (1925).

Becoming Quasimodo

By this time, Chaney had earned the title of “The Man of a Thousand Faces” for his innovative makeup and incredible physical ability to contort his body in ways we continue to marvel at today.

After playing cripples – or pretend cripples – in such films as The Miracle Man, The Penalty, The Shock and Flesh and Blood, Chaney proclaimed that Hunchback would be his final “cripple” role. (Of course, that didn’t last long. In 1927, Chaney was outstanding as a convict pretending to be a cripple in a circus in The Unknown.)

For Hunchback, Chaney kept his makeup faithful to Hugo’s description that Quasimodo’s “whole person was a grimace.”

He had a horseshoe mouth, broken teeth, a little left eye and a right eye that disappeared beneath an enormous wart. His head was huge, topped by bristly hair. His feet were large, hands were monstrous and there was an enormous hump between his shoulders.

“One would have pronounced him a giant who had been broken and badly put together again,” Hugo wrote and that’s what Chaney created.

Despite all the hideous prosthetics, Lon Chaney is able to show the humanity behind Quasimodo in *The Hunchback of Notre Dame*.

To play the deformed bell ringer, Chaney wore a breast plate, shoulder pads and a 70-pound rubber hump that was harnessed to him under a skin-colored rubber suit that was affixed with animal hair. It was incredibly heavy, weighing him down so much that he couldn’t stand erect for the three months of filming, causing him pain. The rubber suit made him unbearably hot, drenching him in sweat daily. He couldn’t even close his mouth because of a device used for his face makeup.

It’s difficult not to focus on that intense makeup when watching Hunchback, yet Chaney had the unique ability to make the audience look beyond the grotesque makeup to really see Quasimodo and feel his pain.

The reviewer for Motion Picture World in 1923 certainly understood: “Here then is a picture that will live forever. Chaney’s portrayal of Quasimodo the hunchback is… a marvel of sympathetic acting. Chaney, in some miraculous way, awakens within us a profound feeling of sympathy and admiration for this most unfortunate and physically revolting human being.”

The Nov. 29, 1923 issue of Bioscope echoed a similar sentiment. “His extraordinary make-up as a veritable living gargoyle reaches the limit of grotesquery (and at moments seems to go a shade beyond it) but his sprawling movements and frantic gestures are brilliantly conceived …”

A review from the trade journal Harrison’s Reports seems prophetic reading it today as it states that “Mr. Chaney’s work will live in the memory when all else will have faded away.”

A century later, those words ring true on Chaney’s Quasimodo – a cinematic work of art.

Also from 1923

“The Unknown Purple” is a 1923 lost film about an inventor who can turn himself invisible.

A search of films made in 1923 revealed only a few possible horror movies. The Wolf Man, starring John Gilbert and Norma Shearer(!), sadly wasn’t what its title suggests. Others are lost like The Unknown Purple with its very intriguing spin on The Invisible Man: A poor inventor uses ultra-violet rays to turn invisible as he seeks revenge against his unfaithful wife and business partner who framed him for a crime. Unfortunately, the rays leave a purple glow causing a problem for this invisible man. I truly wish I could see this film.

The year also brought the third silent film version of The Monkey’s Paw, an adaptation of the 1902 short story by W.W. Jacobs about a monkey’s paw that grants its holder three wishes with terrifying results. If you can get to Britain, you can see an incomplete version of the film.

*The Mystery of Fu-Manchu* is a 15-part film serial with some dark, but fun, themes.

You can find some episodes of The Mystery of Dr. Fu-Manchu to watch online. Based on the first of the Fu-Manchu novels that Sax Rohmer wrote in 1913, this 1923 film serial had 15 self-contained short episodes that each came with a gimmick such as a haunted house, a snake-head cane with a live killer snake hidden inside, a cat with poisoned claws and a torture cage with rats. Now that’s dark.

Guests at a dinner party are initially mesmerized by the “shadow puppets” created by a strange visitor – until he turns his skills on their shadows in the 1923 German film *Shadows: A Nocturnal Hallucination.*

One exciting discovery was the German film Schatten – Eine nächtliche Halluzination (also known as Shadows – a Nocturnal Hallucination and Warning Shadows). A flirtatious young wife, a jealous husband, four suitors and a mysterious shadow puppeteer are the ingredients of this psychological horror story filled with shadows, reflections, lust and jealousy. That alternate title of Warning Shadows is a hint about the movie.

A husband’s dinner party for his wife is interrupted by an uninvited visitor with a bag of magic. As the husband’s jealousy grows with each flirtatious glance between his young wife and guests, the puppeteer plays with shadows releasing desires, possessiveness and even violence.

The full-length film was originally made without intertitles, to allow the strong visuals to tell the story. But without them, it is difficult to fully understand what’s happening. Yet it is mesmerizing to watch as the shadows grow and change, projecting things that are real – and not. In one scene, the husband watches shadows from behind a curtain that seem to show his wife being undressed by a man – but that isn’t the case.

A jealous husband lurking behind a curtain is fooled by what he sees in *Shadows: A Nocturnal Hallucination.*

Director Arthur Robison also plays with mirrors and reflections in the way he does with shadows. As the husband waits outside his wife’s bedroom for a young man to leave, we can see the husband’s horror mount as he hides by the door and sees the reflection of the two in a mirror. When the young man backs out of the bedroom, we see him and the husband in both the mirror and hallway. Perhaps there are two sides to every story?

A reason this film is interesting in theory and visuals and that it features the work of some cast and crew of the 1922 German masterpiece Nosferatu: cinematographer Fritz Amo Wagner, designer Albin Grau, who also came up with concept; and actors Alexander Granach as the puppeteer and Gustav von Wangenheim as a young suitor.

I’ll be watching Shadows: A Nocturnal Hallucination/Warning Shadows again.

– Toni Ruberto for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Toni’s Monsters and Matinees articles here.

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 of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and now leads 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.

Posted in Horror, Monsters and Matinees, Posts by Toni Ruberto | Tagged Alice Guy-Blache, Buster Keaton, Carl Laemmle, cecil b. demille, charlie chaplin, Harold lloyd, irving thalberg, Lon Chaney, the hunchback of notre dame, The Ten Commandments, Victor Hugo, Victorin-Hippolyte Jasset | Leave a comment

Noir Nook: Supportive Fellas of Film Noir

Posted on January 12, 2023 by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry

Noir Nook: Supportive Fellas of Film Noir

A couple of years ago at the Noir Nook, I remedied my penchant for focusing on the distaff side of noir by shining the spotlight on some of my favorite noir actors. Now that 2023 is upon us, I thought it was about time to show a little more love to the gents; this time, I’m not looking at the main characters, but a couple of fellas in support of the main, who deserve just as much attention.

Chickamaw Mobley (Howard da Silva) in They Live By Night (1948)

Howard Da Silva, Jay C. Flippen, Farley Granger, and William Phipps in They Live by Night (1948)

One of my (many) favorite noirs, and one of the few that has made me tear up at the end, They Live By Night stars Farley Granger as Arthur “Bowie” Bowers, who escapes from prison with two other inmates and falls in love with Keechie Mobley (Cathy O’Donnell), the niece of one of his fellow escapees. Like many a noir, this one involves a scheme for “one last job” – and like the best laid plans of mice and men, things don’t turn out as intended.

Howard da Silva plays one of the escaped men, Chickamaw Mobley, who we see in the first scene driving the getaway car, which has been commandeered from the hapless farmer sitting beside him. When the car blows a tire and Chickamaw drives off the road into a nearby field, we get our first glimpse of this guy’s personality. The owner of the car makes one simple remark (“I knew that tire had to go”) and Chickamaw (who, incidentally, is blind in one eye) is off to the races. He tells the man he talks too much, snatches him from the car, and is prepared to shotgun him on the spot – if he hadn’t been stopped by the third convict comrade, T-Dub (Jay C. Flippen), the car owner would surely have met his maker that day. As it is, Chickamaw shoves the man to the ground and wallops him into unconsciousness.

Chickamaw is a mass of contradictions. He appears, at times, to be easy-going and amused by the goings-on around him, but he’s scary, too, and quick to fly off the handle. He’s cold-blooded, as we see with the farmer, and later in the film when a cop tries to detain him after a car accident, but he’s hypersensitive about references to his blind eye. He stresses that the three former inmates have to “look and act like other people,” but he hankers for fame and he’s chafed because the local newspaper “didn’t print a very big piece” about their prison break. Of the three men, it’s Chickamaw who’s the most menacing – the one that you’d least want to be left alone in a room with. But one thing’s sure – you won’t soon forget him.

Marty Waterman (Elisha Cook, Jr.) in Born to Kill (1947)

Elisha Cook, Jr. and Esther Howard in Born to Kill (1947) — Elisha Cook, Jr. and Esther Howard in *Born to Kill* (1947)

Born to Kill is yet another personal favorite. In it, Lawrence Tierney is the aptly named Sam Wild, who commits a double murder in the first 10 minutes of the film, jumps into an affair with Helen Trent (Claire Trevor), the (engaged) woman who finds the bodies – and then attempts to leap into a higher social stratum by marrying Helen’s wealthy foster sister, Georgia (Audrey Long). Meanwhile, his crimes are on the verge of exposure because Mrs. Kraft (Esther Howard), a friend of one of Sam’s victims, is determined to find the man responsible.

Elisha Cook’s Marty is Sam’s bosom buddy and lifelong pal. We don’t know exactly what kind of relationship they have, or how long they’ve had it, but we do know that they were roommates in Reno, and that Marty looks after Sam like a mother bear to her favorite cub. When Sam flees to San Francisco, Marty’s not far behind. When Sam marries Georgia, Marty’s the best man. When Marty learns about the ongoing relationship between Sam and his sister-in-law, he has a few choice words of warning for Helen. And when Mrs. Kraft comes to town and hires a private eye… well, Marty has something to say about that, too.

Marty is the kind of friend we all wish we had. He doesn’t encourage Sam’s misdeeds, but he’s not judgmental, either. He’s supportive and understanding, soothing and empathetic. When Sam tells him about the murders, Marty doesn’t scold, but he does offer his friend some practical advice: “Honest, Sam, you go nuts about nothin’. Nothin’ at all. You gotta watch that,” Marty warns. “You can’t just go around killin’ people whenever the notion strikes you. It’s not feasible.” No matter what Sam does, he can count on Marty to have his back – and not only have his back, but to do whatever he has to do to secure Sam’s safety. It’s Marty’s tough luck that Sam doesn’t realize just how good a friend he has.

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Stay tuned for future Noir Nooks, where I’ll explore more first-rate supporting gents. Meanwhile, you can catch both They Live By Night and Born to Kill for free on YouTube and check out these characters for yourself!

You won’t be sorry.

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– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Karen’s Noir Nook articles here.

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:

Posted in Noir Nook, Posts by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry | Tagged Born to Kill, cathy o'donnell, claire trevor, Elisha Cook Jr, Esther Howard, farley granger, film noir, Howard Da Silva, Jay C. Flippen, lawrence tierney, Noir, Noir Nook, they live by night, William Phipps | 6 Comments

Silver Screen Standards: Twentieth Century (1934)

Posted on January 10, 2023 by Jennifer Garlen

Silver Screen Standards: Twentieth Century (1934)

Although it’s not as widely celebrated today as Bringing Up Baby (1938), director Howard Hawks’ Twentieth Century (1934) is another go-for-broke screwball comedy with protagonists who are all bonkers. This earlier picture stars John Barrymore and Carole Lombard as dueling divas whose egos are too big for their own good, and each of them is so over the top with hammy histrionics that you can’t take anything they do seriously. For some people that might be too much of a good thing, but I love the fast-paced wackiness of this ridiculous story and the hilarious performances of its stars. If you enjoy the rapid patter of Hawks’ other screwball classics, like His Girl Friday (1940) and Ball of Fire (1941), you’ll delight in the romantic and verbal antics of Barrymore and Lombard in Twentieth Century.

Twentieth Century 1934 John Barrymore, Carole Lombard — Oscar (John Barrymore) and his star Lily (Carole Lombard) share a rare tender moment in their tempestuous relationship.

Barrymore plays Broadway director Oscar Jaffe, who takes eager young actress Mildred Plotka (Lombard) and transforms her into stage star Lily Garland. Oscar gets more than he bargained for, however, as Lily’s ego and need for attention fully match his own, which dooms their partnership both on stage and at home. Lily abandons Broadway for Hollywood, leaving Oscar’s subsequent productions to flop, until the pair meet up again while traveling on the 20^th Century Limited. Oscar hatches a plan to get Lily back with help from his two chief assistants, Oliver (Walter Connolly) and Owen (Roscoe Karns).

Twentieth Century 1934 Carole Lombard, Roscoe Karns, John Barrymore — Lily, Owen (Roscoe Karns), and Oliver (Walter Connolly) all endure Oscar’s temper tantrums and machinations.

The movie is adapted from a stage play, which shows somewhat in its limited settings, but most of the action takes place on a train where we don’t notice that confined space as much. It’s the train that gives the movie its name; the 20th Century Limited ran between New York and Chicago from 1902 to 1967. You might, however, justly infer that the title refers to the modernity of the story in its focus on dual careers, rapid change, and the way Hollywood was then luring away stage stars with more money and greater fame. The train speeds along just like the dialogue, carrying its cargo of eccentric characters from one city to another. A moving train is a liminal space where transformation happens and shifts occur; our characters are by no means on solid ground. Oscar, Lily, Oliver, and Owen all vacillate accordingly, between moods, resolutions, states of inebriation, and feelings toward each other, but they’re not the only mutable passengers aboard. Adding to the confusion is Etienne Girardot as Matthew J. Clark, an elderly, milquetoast fellow who is sometimes sane and sometimes mad as a hatter. In his latter state he runs around the train covering everything in sight with “Repent” stickers and leading train employees on a frantic chase. We come to suspect that nobody in or on the 20^th Century is likely to be sane.

Twentieth Century 1934 Carole Lombard, John Barrymore — Lily gives Oscar a swift kick in the rear as they clash in one of their constant battles.

While many screwball comedies, including Hawks’ Bringing Up Baby and Ball of Fire, feature a chaotic woman who disrupts an orderly man’s life, Twentieth Century more closely resembles His Girl Friday (1940) with its chaotic man who schemes to regain control of the woman who has gotten away from him. The difference here is that Lombard’s Lily is every bit as unscrupulous and uncontrollable as Oscar; she kicks, screams, throws tantrums, and make scenes with equal enthusiasm. The result is a battle of the hams between Barrymore and Lombard, which is a riot onscreen but would make for an unbearably toxic relationship in real life. Narcissists usually seek out less self-obsessed partners for good reason; there’s not enough room in the relationship for two of them. Oscar and Lily are a perfect match for each other because they’re exactly alike, but they inevitably clash because they both have such enormous egos. Neither of them learns anything from this experience or improves in any discernible way because they’re more like caricatures than human beings, a fact that Lily recognizes and even highlights. “We’re not people, we’re lithographs,” she tells Oscar. “We don’t know anything about love unless it’s written and rehearsed. We’re only real in between curtains.” That truth undermines any hope for a happy ending, and indeed we don’t really get one, but we do get the sense that Oscar and Lily will forever be rushing back and forth between New York and Chicago, love and loathing, getting together and breaking up, like perpetual passengers on modernity’s crazy train.

Twentieth Century did bring real change to Carole Lombard’s career, as it launched her into a string of great screwball comedy roles, including My Man Godfrey (1936), Nothing Sacred (1937), and To Be or Not to Be (1942). Barrymore, already a legend of stage and the silent screen, was waning thanks to age and alcoholism and would die at the age of 60 in 1942, just a few months after Lombard perished in a tragic plane crash. See him in the screwball classic Midnight (1939) for a late comedic role, but don’t miss earlier films like The Beloved Rogue (1927), Svengali (1931), Grand Hotel (1932), and Dinner at Eight (1933). Roscoe Karns and Walter Connolly both have memorable roles in It Happened One Night (1934), with Karns also turning up in His Girl Friday and Connolly appearing with Lombard again in Nothing Sacred. For even more screwball delights, see fan favorites like The Awful Truth (1937), The Philadelphia Story (1940), The Lady Eve (1941), and The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek (1943). Twentieth Century can be hard to get on DVD or Blu-ray, but it’s available on a handful of streaming services, including The Criterion Channel.

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— Jennifer Garlen for Classic Movie Hub

Jennifer Garlen pens our monthly Silver Screen Standards column. You can read all of Jennifer’s Silver Screen Standards articles here.

Jennifer is a former college professor with a PhD in English Literature and a lifelong obsession with film. She writes about classic movies at her blog, Virtual Virago, and presents classic film programs for lifetime learning groups and retirement communities. She’s the author of Beyond Casablanca: 100 Classic Movies Worth Watching and its sequel, Beyond Casablanca II: 101 Classic Movies Worth Watching, and she is also the co-editor of two books about the works of Jim Henson.

Posted in Posts by Jennifer Garlen, Silver Screen Standards | Tagged Ball of Fire, Bringing Up Baby, Carole Lombard, dinner at eight, Etienne Girardot, grand hotel, His Girl Friday, howard hawks, it happened one night, john barrymore, Midnight, My Man Godfrey, Nothing Sacred, Roscoe Karns, Svengali, The Awful Truth, The Beloved Rogue, the lady eve, The Miracle of Morgan's Creek (1944), The Philadelphia Story, to be or not to be, twentieth century, walter connolly | 1 Comment

Western Roundup: The Furies (1950)

Posted on January 2, 2023 by Laura Grieve

Western Roundup: The Furies (1950)

This month my Western RoundUp column takes a look at The Furies (1950), an Anthony Mann Western with Barbara Stanwyck heading a top cast.

When I wrote about Forty Guns (1957) here last May, I wasn’t planning to do a series on Stanwyck’s ’50s Westerns over the course of the year, but here we are! Forty Guns led me to watch The Violent Men (1955), and those films combined to spark my interest in The Furies. The three films range from good to great; taken both individually and as a group they make fascinating viewing.

In terms of quality I’d class The Furies in the middle of the three; Forty Guns was my favorite for several reasons, including Stanwyck’s chemistry with her leading man (Barry Sullivan). It’s interesting that of the trio, Stanwyck’s role was also the most sympathetic in Forty Guns, though that character was no less ambitious than the women she played in the other two films.

Walter Huston, Barbara Stanwyck, Wendell Corey, The Furies 1950 — Walter Huston, Barbara Stanwyck, Wendell Corey

The Furies is the name of the Southwestern ranch owned by T.C. Jeffords (Walter Huston). T.C. is something of a wild man who has carved out his ranch territory by any means possible, including theft and murder.

The widowed T.C. has a curiously…close…relationship with his headstrong daughter Vance (Stanwyck) which is threatened when he brings home a widow, Flo (Judith Anderson), he’s thinking of marrying. The clever Flo schemes to pack Vance off to Europe and assume control of T.C. and his money.

Wendall Corey, Barbara Stanwyck, The Furies 1950 — Wendell Corey, Barbara Stanwyck

There are flaws with Flo’s plan, however, including the fact that for years T.C. has been paying creditors with fake notes called “T.C.’s.” When Flo threatens Vance’s control of the ranch, Vance schemes with banker Rip Darrow (Wendell Corey), whose father’s land was stolen by T.C., to buy up the notes and take over the Furies.

There are subplots aplenty, with Vance being attracted to Rip, while in turn she’s loved by an old friend, Juan (Gilbert Roland). The fact Juan is an Hispanic “squatter” on the ranch is a strike against their relationship being anything permanent, and it also seems that Juan’s love isn’t exciting enough for Vance.

Gilbert Roland, Barbara Stanwyck, The Furies 2 — Gilbert Roland, Barbara Stanwyck

On that note, in addition to her oddly possessive, physical relationship with her father, Vance has a masochistic streak and seems to enjoy being abused by Rip. A scene where she invites Rip to hit her is an eye-popper. Indeed, Vance’s relationships with both her father and Rip are such that I’m frankly amazed it all was passed by the censors in 1950.

Charles Schnee’s screenplay for this 109-minute film was based on a novel by Niven Busch, who himself wrote the dark, florid screenplays for Duel in the Sun (1946) and Pursued (1947). Touches of those films, including an unusual familial relationship and deadly love, are apparent in The Furies — which, like Pursued, deserves to be called “Western film noir.”

The Furies has very stylized dialogue and staging every bit as over the top as Duel in the Sun, though the film it reminded me of most closely was the later Johnny Guitar (1954). My first viewing of both The Furies and Johnny Guitar left me thinking “This movie is very strange…but I think I like it.”

Wendall Corey, Barbara Stanwyck, The Furies — Barbara Stanwyck, Wendell Corey

The Furies was one of three Westerns directed by Mann which were released in 1950; the first was the classic Winchester ’73 (1950) with James Stewart, and the other was the well-regarded Devil’s Doorway (1950) starring Robert Taylor as a Native American dealing with racism in the post Civil War West.

Having seen many Mann films, including all of his Westerns with Stewart, the rather different, over-the-top style of The Furies was surprising to me, though no less enjoyable. The story comes off as a cross between Shakespearean tragedy and high melodrama.

Stanwyck is excellent as the restless, unhappy Vance, who wants three things: Her father, the ranch, and Rip, and she has no intention of sharing. Her physical reaction when she realizes the extent of Flo’s plotting is a stunner; even more stunning is there’s never any mention of involving the sheriff, even when the characters are away from T.C.’s ranching kingdom.

Gilbert Roland, Barbara Stanwyck, The Furies 1 — Gilbert Roland, Barbara Stanwyck

Corey is good as the edgy Rip, who’s seemingly unmoved by Vance’s love and does quite a bit of plotting of his own. Corey’s restrained, rather withdrawn style here works for their relationship, though at times I wished the role were played by someone who struck more sparks with Stanwyck.

The sprawling story doesn’t make quite enough room for the wonderful Roland, and my only real criticism of the film is the disturbing way his storyline came to an end. No more will be said on that point to avoid spoilers, but I’ll be fast-forwarding past that sequence next time I see the film.

Anderson — who also appeared in the previously mentioned Pursued — couldn’t be better as Flo, who freely admits she’s in her relationship with T.C. not just for love, but for the money, which makes life much more pleasant. She’s calculating, certainly, yet not really mean about it; she seems to genuinely like T.C., and the consolation prize she offers Vance for taking over her role at the ranch is a “grand tour” of Europe. Flo, like others, doesn’t count on just how far a Jeffords will go to have what they want, with tragic consequences.

Huston is annoying as the cantankerous T.C., but then I suppose he’s meant to be. The fine cast is rounded out by Thomas Gomez, Wallace Ford, John Bromfield, Albert Dekker, Blanche Yurka, Louis Jean Heydt, Frank Ferguson, Myrna Dell, Movita, and Beulah Bondi in a small but wonderful role as a banker’s wife.

The black and white photography was by Victor Milner, along with the uncredited uncredited Lee Garmes. The score was by Franz Waxman, with costumes by Edith Head. Hal B. Wallis produced for Paramount Pictures.

Stanwyck is greatly loved for her roles in crime films, dramas, and comedies alike, but as these three films illustrate, she also had a wonderful run in Westerns. I recommend all three Stanwyck films I’ve reviewed this year for excellent viewing.

The Furies is available on Blu-ray and DVD from the Criterion Collection.

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– 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.

Posted in Films, Posts by Laura Grieve, Western RoundUp | Tagged barbara stanwyck, The Furies, The Furies 1950, walter huston, wendell corey | 28 Comments

Classic Movie Travels: Lori Nelson

Posted on December 22, 2022 by Annette Bochenek

Classic Movie Travels: Lori Nelson

Lori Nelson

Dixie Kay Nelson was born on August 15, 1933, in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She was the daughter of the superintendent of the American Metal Mine Company and the great-grandniece of John J. Pershing.

Nelson’s time in the entertainment industry began when she was two years old and appearing in local theatrical productions, receiving the nickname “Santa Fe’s Shirley Temple.” By the time she turned four, her family had relocated to Encino, California. Soon after, she would win the title “Little Miss America,” touring veterans’ hospitals, participating in additional theatrical performances, and modeling for local photographers.

Sadly, Nelson contracted a severe rheumatic fever at age seven, leading her to be bedridden for four years. Once she recovered, she returned to appearing in pageants once again and won the “Miss Encino” title at 17.

Nelson graduated from Canoga Park High School and pursued a modeling career. After an unsuccessful test for a role in Warner Brothers’ Kings Row (1942), Nelson worked with agent Milo O. Frank, Jr., to try and work in films. She trained with the studio dramatic coach at Universal-International and reenacted a scene for the front office. In 1950, she signed a seven-year contract with Universal-International. There, she took on the stage name Lori Nelson.

Lori Nelson and Tom Hennesy in Revenge of the Creature (1955) — Lori Nelson and Tom Hennesy in *Revenge of the Creature* (1955)

Nelson’s film debut came in Bend of the River (1952), followed by supporting performances in Ma and Pa Kettle at the Fair (1952), Francis Goes to West Point (1952), Destry (1954), and Ma and Pa Kettle at Waikiki (1955). She also co-starred in Revenge of the Creature (1955) and Underwater! (1955). Nelson went on to appear in Day the World Ended (1955), I Died a Thousand Times (1955), and Pardners (1956). Nelson had lead roles in Hot Rod Girl (1956) and Untamed Youth (1957).

Nelson also worked in television on numerous occasions, including a co-starring role in The Pied Piper of Hamelin (1957). She worked in the sitcom How to Marry a Millionaire alongside Barbara Eden and Merry Anders, which was based on the 1953 film of the same name. She also made many television guest appearances, including roles on The Tab Hunter Show, Wagon Train, and Bachelor Father.

Barbara Eden, Lori Nelson and Merry Anders in the TV show How to Marry a Millionaire (1957-1959) — Barbara Eden, Lori Nelson and Merry Anders in the TV show *How to Marry a Millionaire* (1957-1959)

In 1960, Nelson married composer Johnny Mann. The couple had two daughters named Susan and Jennifer before divorcing in 1973. Nelson later married Joseph J. Reiner, who worked as a police officer. Nelson’s final film role was as Dr. Helen Dobson in The Naked Monster (2005).

Nelson passed away on August 23, 2020, at her Porter Ranch home after battling Alzheimer’s disease. She was 87 years old.

Today, there are few tributes to Nelson but some of her former residences remain. In 1940, Nelson resided at 4611 Van Nuys Blvd., Sherman Oaks, California. In 1950, the family lived at 14544 Haynes St., Los Angeles, California. These residences no longer stand.

Nelson’s alma mater, Canoga Park High School continues to exist as a high school but not in the same building that Nelson would have attended. The building was damaged in the 1971 Sylmar earthquake and demolished in 1975. The new building stands at 6850 Topanga Canyon Blvd., Canoga Park, California.

Lori Nelson Canoga Park High School California — Nelson’s High School, Canoga Park High School located in Canoga Park, California

In 1960, Nelson lived at 5044 Bellaire Ave., North Hollywood, California. The home stands to this day.

Lori Nelson's residence at 5044 Bellaire Ave., North Hollywood, California — Nelson’s 1960 residence at 5044 Bellaire Ave., North Hollywood, California

In the 1970s, she lived at 19764 Corbin Dr., Chatsworth, California. Her husband, Johnny Mann, registered this location in 1970 as Johnny Mann Productions, Inc., later registering Great American Choral Festival, Inc., at this address. The home no longer stands.

In 1973, Nelson relocated to 19558 Pine Valley Ave., Porter Ranch, California. She lived here with her second husband, Joseph J. Reiner. The home remains today.

Lori Nelson 1973 residence at 19558 Pine Valley Ave., Porter Ranch, California — Nelson’s 1973 residence at 19558 Pine Valley Ave., Porter Ranch, California

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–Annette Bochenek for Classic Movie Hub

Annette Bochenek pens our monthly Classic Movie Travels column. You can read all of Annette’s Classic Movie Travel articles here.

Posted in Classic Movie Travels, Posts by Annette Bochenek | Tagged barbara eden, bend of the river, Day the World Ended, Destry, Francis Goes to West Point, Hot Rod Girl, I Died a Thousand Times, Johnny Mann, Kings Row, Lori Nelson, Ma and Pa Kettle at the Fair, Ma and Pa Kettle at Waikiki, merry anders, Pardners, Revenge of the Creature, The Pied Piper of Hamelin, Underwater!, Untamed Youth | 1 Comment

Silents are Golden: Silent Superstars – The Early Heartthrob Sessue Hayakawa

Posted on December 20, 2022 by Lea Stans

Silents are Golden: Silent Superstars – The Early Heartthrob Sessue Hayakawa

The typical handsome leading man of silent films was a strong, dependable, clean-cut type, with names like Harold Lockwood or Earle Williams. Rudolph Valentino’s popularity in the ‘20s also initiated a craze for “exotic” Latin lovers. But modern movie fans might be surprised to learn that there was another beloved matinee idol, earlier than Valentino, who also seemed exciting and “exotic” to white audiences: the Japanese actor Sessue Hayakawa, a star of the 1910s.

Sessue Hayakawa

Hayakawa’s early life was tinged by drama. He was born Kintaro Hayakawa on June 10, 1886 in the city of Minamiboso in Japan. He came from a wealthy family, his father being the provincial governor and his mother having aristocratic roots. At age eighteen Hayakawa attempted to join the Japanese navel academy in Etajima, planning on becoming an officer as his parents desired. When he was rejected due to problems with his hearing (he had ruptured an eardrum while diving), he attempted to commit ritual suicide by stabbing himself in the abdomen. Fortunately he was discovered and managed to make a recovery.

He later recalled that his family then sent him to the University of Chicago to study political economics, with the new goal of becoming a banker. But apparently there’s no record of Hayakawa being at the university, and he may have spent his time in the U.S. doing odd jobs instead. At any rate, while spending some time in Los Angeles he ducked into the Japanese Theatre in the Little Tokyo district. Enamored with what he saw, he decided to try to become an actor and took the name “Sessue” (meaning “snowy continent”) as a stage name.

Sessue Hayakawa young — A young Hayakawa

He quickly made an impression on his fellow actors, including actress Tsuru Aoki, who would later become his wife (they would adopt three children). Aoki convinced film producer Thomas Ince to attend a performance of The Typhoon, and Ince decided to turn it into a film starring Hayakawa. The 1914 film was a hit and was followed by The Wrath of the Gods and The Sacrifice (both 1914). Since Hayakawa was clearly a star on the rise, he was signed by Famous Players-Lasky (now known as Paramount).

Hayakawa would prove himself in Cecil B. DeMille’s sensational drama The Cheat (1915), where he played a wealthy ivory merchant. When a married high-society woman comes to him for a loan, hoping to replace a large sum of Red Cross money that she lost in a bad investment, he agrees in return for sexual favors. When she tries to back out of the deal, he brands her on the shoulder–a shockingly lurid scene for the time. It was a critical and box office hit, and established Hayakawa as one of Hollywood’s top stars and an idol to many female filmgoers.

Fannie Ward and Sessue Hayakawa in The Cheat (1915) — Fannie Ward and Sessue Hayakawa in *The Cheat* (1915)

While his charisma and brooding, elegant good looks certainly explain his popularity, some of his appeal was also bolstered by the strong interest in Asia at the time. People were drawn to the exoticism of the “Far East,” and it had a strong influence on fashion and interior decorating trends. Still, concerns about miscegenation often limited Hayakawa to villainous roles, keeping him from being a regular romantic lead or hero. But even this didn’t exactly hurt his popularity, since these roles made his characters seem like forbidden fruit to countless enraptured women.

Sessue Hayakawa in His Birthright (1918) — Sessue Hayakawa in *His Birthright* (1918)

Soon getting tired of typecasting, in 1918 Hayakawa decided to establish his own studio, Haworth Pictures Corporation. It was the first Asian-owned studio in Hollywood, and in the next three years it would make twenty films, lauded for their subtle Zen-inspired acting. While most of them are lost today, the most famous one that survives is The Dragon Painter (1919). Co-starring Hayakawa’s wife Tsuru, it was highly praised for its authenticity and poetic story.

By the late 1910s Hayakawa was commanding $3,500 a week and was happy to spend his money almost as fast as it came in. He drove a gold-plated Rolls Royce and hosted large parties in his custom-built mansion–said to have been the wildest parties in Hollywoodland. But by 1922 his career was starting to slump, helped along by anti-Asian sentiment in the aftermath of WWI. Other issues included suffering a burst appendix during the shoot of The Swamp (1921), and prosaic troubles involving insurance.

Deciding to leave Hollywood, he returned to Japan for a time and then started making films in France and Britain. Not one to waste his time, he would also have a starring role on Broadway, write a novel called The Bandit Prince, adapt The Bandit Prince into a play, and produce a Japanese language stage version of The Three Musketeers, and open a Zen temple in New York City.

Bramwell Fletcher, Sessue Hayakawa, Harold Minjir, and Nella Walker in *Daughter of the Dragon* (1931)

By the early ‘30s he had also found time to return to Hollywood, making his talkie debut in Daughter of the Dragon (1931) starring Chinese-American actress Anna May Wong. Unfortunately his heavy accent wasn’t well received, and he returned to making films in Japan and France. He would even star in a remake of The Cheat in 1937, also called The Cheat.

Following WWII, Hayakawa was contacted by Humphrey Bogart’s production company for a role in the film Tokyo Joe (1949). This began the last leg of his acting career, where he often played “honorable villain” types of roles. The highlight was his famous role as Colonel Saito in The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), which earned him an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor and a Golden Globe nomination. Following this, he began to wind down his acting career, appearing in films and on television only occasionally. He would also lose his wife Tsuru to peritonitis in 1961. His last film was the stop-motion The Daydreamer (1966).

Hayakawa in Bride on the River Kwai (1957) — Hayakawa in *Bride on the River Kwai* (1957)

A practicing Zen Buddhist, Hayakawa decided to devote himself to becoming a Zen priest. He would also give acting lessons and write his autobiography Zen Showed Me the Way…To Peace, Happiness and Tranquility. He passed away in 1973 from a cerebral blood clot, leaving behind a proud legacy of being cinema’s first international Asian film star.

Hayakawa

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–Lea Stans for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Lea’s Silents are Golden articles here.

Posted in Posts by Lea Stans, Silents are Golden | Tagged anna may wong, Bramwell Fletcher, cecil b. demille, Daughter of the Dragon, Fannie Ward, Harold Lockwood, Harold Minjir, His Birthright, humphrey bogart, Nella Walker, rudolph valentino, sessue hayakawa, the bridge on the river kwai, the cheat, The Daydreamer, The Dragon Painter, The Sacrifice, The Swamp, the typhoon, The Wrath of the Gods, Tokyo Joe | Leave a comment

Noir Nook: Three with Richard C

Posted on December 13, 2022 by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry

Noir Nook: Three with Richard C

In previous posts here at the Noir Nook, I’ve mentioned the classic movie Zoom meetup group that I’ve participated in since spring 2020. One of our recent films was 20th Century Fox’s Cry of the City (1948), starring Victor Mature and Richard Conte. I’ve seen this movie many times, but in watching it again, I was stuck by how good it is, and how underrated!

But that’s not the point of this month’s column.

If you know me at all, you’ll know that I’m a huge (ginormous, even) fan of Richard Conte, and in Cry of the City, as always, he did not disappoint. Sadly, like this film, Conte doesn’t receive the accolades these days that he so richly deserves. So, as a holiday gift from me to you, this month’s Noir Nook is taking a look at three noirs starring this talented actor that you simply must see – even the characters’ names are awesome!

Richard Conte and Shelley Winters in Cry of the City (1948) — Richard Conte and Shelley Winters in *Cry of the City* (1948)

Cry of the City (1948) – Martin Rome

In this Robert Siodmak-directed feature, Conte plays a character from a close-knit, loving family who’s fairly oozing with charm and intelligence. Sadly, he uses his powers for villainy rather than virtue – when we first encounter him, he’s facing surgery after killing a cop during a shootout. The film follows Martin’s path from the prison’s hospital ward and tracks the people he uses in his effort to flee the country with his angelic lady love, Tina (Debra Paget). It’s amazing the number of people who sacrifice their own safety for Martin’s sake – there’s the prison trusty (Walter Baldwin) who helps him escape, the ex-girlfriend (Shelley Winters) who finds an unlicensed doctor to treat Martin’s wound, and the middle-aged nurse (Betty Garde) who spirits Tina from her home and hides her away from the police. Martin’s final showdown with his boyhood friend-now-nemesis Lt. Vittorio Candella (Victor Mature) is a tension-thick standoff that will have you on the edge of your seat.

Richard Conte, Luther Adler, Paul Valentine and Efrem Zimbalist Jr. in House of Strangers (1949) — Richard Conte, Luther Adler, Paul Valentine and Efrem Zimbalist Jr. in *House of Strangers* (1949)

House of Strangers (1949) – Max Monetti

In House of Strangers, Conte is an attorney, the favorite son of bank proprietor Gino Monetti (Edward G. Robinson), who is characterized by his questionable methods. When Gino is arrested for breaching the statutes of banking, it is only Max who comes to his defense; his three brothers, after enduring years of criticism and ridicule from their father, are only too happy to see him wind up behind bars. Betrayed by his oldest brother (Luther Adler) for bribing a juror, Max is sent to prison for seven years, and emerges bent on revenge. In this feature, Conte plays one of his most multifaceted characters; his Max is at once charismatic, bitter, compassionate, bitter, loyal, and unforgiving.

Richard Conte and Anne Bancroft in New York Confidential (1955) — Richard Conte and Anne Bancroft in *New York Confidential* (1955)

New York Confidential (1955) – Nick Magellan

If Max Monetti is one of Conte’s most complicated personas, then Nick Magellan is one of his most chilling. A hitman with a heart of steel, Nick is hired by New York syndicate head Charlie Lupo (Broderick Crawford) to rub out a rogue member of his organization. Before long, Nick becomes Lupo’s right-hand man, but he is beset by Lupo’s troubled daughter (Anne Bancroft), his duplicitous mistress (Marilyn Maxwell), and the stress of upholding the syndicate’s stringent set of rules. Nick is not your typical hitman; he’s refined and intelligent, and highly proficient – and cooler than the other side of the pillow.

If you’ve never seen these Richard Conte noirs, do yourself a favor and add them to your watchlist. And if you’re already familiar with them, treat yourself to a rewatch.

You’ll be glad you did.

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– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Karen’s Noir Nook articles here.

Posted in Noir Nook, Posts by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry | Tagged anne bancroft, Betty Garde, broderick crawford, Cry of the City, Debra Paget, Edward G. Robinson, film noir, House of Strangers, Luther Adler, Marilyn Maxwell, New York Confidential, Noir, Noir Nook, richard conte, Robert Siodmak, shelley winters, victor mature, Walter Baldwin | 1 Comment

Monsters and Matinees: Pat Boone shares memories of ‘Journey to the Center of the Earth’

Posted on December 10, 2022 by Toni Ruberto

Pat Boone shares memories of ‘Journey to the Center of the Earth’ at TCM Cruise

The importance of horror and sci-fi movies from the classic film era tends to be overshadowed when compared to today’s big-budget CGI-films.

So when you learn a 1959 sci-fi flick helped save the day when a big-budget epic was sucking a major movie studio dry, classic film fans want to share the tale – especially when the storyteller is Pat Boone.

Pat Boone, left, and James Mason find one fantastic discovery after another
during their *Journey to the Center of the Earth*.

The entertainment legend was discussing his lengthy career on the 2022 TCM Cruise and often brought up Journey to the Center of the Earth, one of his earliest films and the one that propelled him to movie stardom.

The movie was the first of multiple adaptations of the imaginative 1864 novel by Jules Verne about adventurers on a quest to find the center of the earth, as the title so succinctly sums up. It also was one of the factors that helped 20^th Century-Fox stave off bankruptcy from the much-delayed and well over budget Elizabeth Taylor–Richard Burton epic Cleopatra.

The long road to the big screen for Cleopatra started in 1958 when Walter Wagner’s production company partnered with the studio. It was another two years before principal photography started on Cleopatra and another three years before it would be released. Time is money and the prolonged production resulted in ongoing problems for the studio including a budget that ballooned from $2 million to $44 million (about $364 million today). While the success of Journey to the Center of the Earth wasn’t the only thing that helped Fox – the studio sold off land and The Sound of Music was later released –it certainly played a starring role.

Pat Boone during one of his talks on the TCM Cruise.

That’s a pretty cool fact and one that Boone shared with pride. “This film saved the studio. We were told they were about to shut down 20^th Century-Fox and then the film came out.”

The novel was written at a time when the idea that the earth was hollow at its center was a popular theory. And there was still much to learn about the planet so people could imagine anything and everything: lost worlds, unexplored regions, magnificent creatures and unexplained phenomenon.

For the movie, the setting was moved from Germany to 1880 Edinburgh, Scotland. Geologist and Professor Oliver Lindenbrook (the esteemed James Mason) is being celebrated for his new title of “Sir.” Boone plays Alec McEwan, a student who clearly has a special bond with his professor (the two actors also have a great screen chemistry), and gifts Lindenbrook with a volcanic rock he found in a curiosity window.

Geology student Alec (played by Pat Boone) gifts his professor (James Mason) with a volcanic rock that sends them on a great adventure in *Journey to the Center of the Earth.*

“It’s a scholaris choice,” a happy Lindenbrook tells him. But the rock is much heavier than it should be and that demands attention.

When the professor misses dinner, young Alec and Lindenbrook’s niece Jenny (Diane Baker), who are sweet on each other, find him in his laboratory. A small explosion – the type we have in these movies as a shortcut to learning important information – breaks open the rock exposing a man-made object. It’s signed by Arne Saknussemm who disappeared 300 years earlier on his journey to the center of the Earth through Iceland.

Excitement is in the air!

Lindenbrook reaches out to the world authority on volcanoes, Professor Göteborg. His delayed response raises red flags that send Lindenbrook and Alec to Iceland.

What Lindenbrook feared is happening as Göteborg is preparing for his own expedition. To slow them down, Göteborg has Lindenbrook and Alec kidnapped so they will miss the brief moment when the sun illuminates the mountain opening toward the center of the Earth. (Sound familiar? It’s the first time we see how Journey inspired the 1981 blockbuster Raiders of the Lost Ark.)

Gertrude the duck, left, and Arlene Dahl share a special bond in *Journey to the Center of the Earth.*

Our kidnapped explorers get a soft landing when they’re dumped in a bin of goose feathers and are rescued by the non-English speaking Hans (Peter Ronson) and his duck Gertrude (played by herself). This film not also has a sense of awe, but a light sense of humor, too.

Sadly it doesn’t end well for Göteborg who is murdered. His widow, Carla (Arlene Dahl), offers our guys a deal: They can have all her husband’s expensive equipment and food, plus she will translate for Hans – if she can go on the expedition, too. Carla drives a hard bargain that they can’t refuse.

But the Fab 5 – Lindenbook, Alec, Carla, Hans and Gertrude – won’t be alone. Tracking them is Count Saknussemm who we know isn’t a good guy because ominous music is heard when he comes on screen, and he’s played by the naturally creepy Thayer David (Dark Shadows). Saknussemm feels he’s entitled to the discovery and all that money and acclaim that comes with it.

This looks like a fun set as the gang finds giant mushrooms they can use
for sustenance and more in Journey to the Center of the Earth.

The adventure is on and each cavern and passageway brings wonder or danger: winds, a whirlpool, luminescent algae, lava, a magnificent “ocean of the underworld” and giant creatures – the stars of so many 1950’s films.

The explorers will walk on thin ledges where someone is bound to slip, outrun a giant boulder (again, a scene duplicated in Raiders of the Lost Ark) and scale stalactites to evade flooding waters. There are giant mushrooms – think person-sized and taller – that our hungry crew will use for food, shoe bottoms and a raft. And they’ll find the holy grail: the lost city of Atlantis.

It’s all such great fun, but in his review of the film at the time of its release, grumpy New York Times critic Bosley Crowther wrote “The earth’s interior is somewhat on the order of an elaborate amusement-park tunnel of love.” That sounds like he thought it was a bad thing, forgetting that the journey in the movie, like in life, is the best thing.

Arlene Dahl hangs on a stalactite as waters rise in an underground cavern in *Journey to the Center of the Earth*.

Boone recalled how these adventurous scenes, done with practical – not computer-generated – stunts, brought uncomfortable and even dangerous moments to the actors.

His character Alec is separated from his traveling companions and stumbles into a salt cavern where the extreme heat leads him to start cutting off his clothes. He falls into a sinkhole of salt, then another and another.

“I’m trying not to breath. I knew it would fill up my lungs,” he said, which is evident as Boone’s face and body are covered in thick white stuff.

Pat Boone is overcome by heat and large amounts of salt that cover everything.

Then there was the exciting scene when their raft gets pulled into a whirlpool.

“It was violent. We’re in a raft, it’s in a whirlpool and it’s going to suck us down. They were pouring thousands of gallons of water on us from above,” Boone said. “We had to hold on. We are 8 feet in the air and spinning.”

And that’s when actress Arlene Dahl began screaming at director Henry Levin to “get me down,” Boone said.

Our explorers get trapped in a whirlpool in *Journey to the Center of the Earth*.

She was freaked out to the extent that she passed out.

But perhaps the scariest moment of shooting for Boone, a deeply religious man, was when he lands “naked” in a tree by a nunnery.

“All I had on in the scene was a skin-colored speedo,” he laughed along with the TCM audience.

* * * *

In addition to introducing the film on the TCM Cruise, Boone also did a book signing and two lengthy “conversations” where he talked in-depth about his career and co-stars. Here are a few highlights.

On becoming a film actor: “I was stunned. I had studied some acting … but I didn’t think of myself as an actor.”

On a role model: “If I was gonna be in a movie, my role model was Bing Crosby. I just wanted to be a teenage Bing Crosby.”

On James Mason: “He had a surprising sense of humor. He kept to himself but was companionable.” Boone said he also “hummed a lot” and thought it could have been to keep his voice mellow.

On the film’s premise: “If you’re really gonna go to the center of the earth, you’re not coming back, but in this movie you could,” Boone laughed.

Pat Boone, left, likes to court Diane Baker in song during *Journey to the Center of the Earth.*

On how he finally agreed to do Journey to the Center of the Earth. “I didn’t want to do sci-fi. I wanted to do musicals. They kept after me and finally my manager said they’re offering you a piece of the film.”

But he wanted something else even more. “I said I wanted to sing,” Boone said. And he did, performing The Faithful Heart and My Life is Like a Red, Red Rose (based off the poem by Robert Burns) to his on-screen love interest, Diane Baker.

“I would like to be remembered for those two songs,” he said.

– Toni Ruberto for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Toni’s Monsters and Matinees articles here.