Classic Movie Hub Blog

Noir Nook: Best Noir of the Year – Part 2

Posted on October 13, 2022 by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry

Noir Nook: Best Noir of the Year – Part 2

For last month’s Noir Nook, I started one of my favorite lists to date – the best film from each year of the classic noir era; Part 1 covered 1940 through 1949. For some of those years, I’ll admit, it wasn’t easy to come up with a single film, but it was always fun. And this month, I’m serving up Part 2: the years 1950 through 1959. Here goes…

1950:

Next to 1947, I think that 1950 may just be one of the greatest years for noir – in fact, I’m going out on a limb to say it just might be even better! After all, this is the year that gave us so many gems: The Breaking Point, D.O.A., Gun Crazy, In a Lonely Place, Night and the City, No Man of Her Own, Shakedown, Sunset Boulevard, The Damned Don’t Cry, Where the Sidewalk Ends… it’s an embarrassment of riches – how’s a person supposed to choose??? But I finally made my pick: The Asphalt Jungle. This classic heist film tells the tale of a motley crew of men who come together to knock off a jewelry store. Led by notorious career criminal Doc Reidenschneider (Sam Jaffe), the participants include the getaway driver (James Whitmore), who has a hunchback and loves cats; the expert safecracker (Anthony Caruso) with a devoted wife and young baby; and the small-time hood (Sterling Hayden) with a dream to return to his old Kentucky home. With a first-rate cast that also boasts memorable performances by Marilyn Monroe and Jean Hagen, The Asphalt Jungle is a nearly perfect noir.

1951:

Interestingly, my choice for 1951 came down to two films starring Kirk Douglas: Ace in the Hole and Detective Story. As it happens, Detective Story is freshest in my mind, as I recently saw it on the big screen at a film noir festival in Chicago. Still, I have to go with Ace in the Hole. This ripped-from-the-headlines film centers on Chuck Tatum (Douglas), a former big-time reporter who’s now stuck in the sticks covering quilting bees and county fairs. That is, until he learns that a local man is trapped in a cave, and he sees his path back to his former glory – as long as the luckless man stays put.

1952:

I gave serious thought to Scandal Sheet. And Narrow Margin almost made the cut. But for 1952, I had to give the nod to Sudden Fear: it stars Joan Crawford and Gloria Grahame, and it’s got a cracking good story with a perfectly satisfying noir ending. Crawford is Myra Hudson, a wealthy and successful playwright who marries actor Lester Blaine (Jack Palance) after a whirlwind romance. Myra is blissfully happy, but her joy subsides when she finds out that (1) her husband doesn’t love her, (2) her husband is stepping out with his old girlfriend, and (3) her husband and his old girlfriend are planning to kill her. Bummer.

1953:

Yikes – two excellent films for this year, either one of which could, on any given day, be considered the best noir of the year: The Big Heat and Pickup on South Street. On this given day, I decided to go with The Big Heat. Even if you’re not familiar with this film, you probably know about its most iconic scene, where Gloria Grahame gets a face full of scalding coffee courtesy of her brutish boyfriend, played by Lee Marvin. Glenn Ford stars as a crusading cop who is determined at all costs to find the man behind the murder of his wife. Toss in standout performances by Jeanette Nolan as the steely widow of a corrupt cop, and Alexander Scourby as a refined but scary gang leader, and you’ve got yourself a first-rate noir.

1954:

So far, 1954 is turning out to be my easiest year – my pick, hands-down, is Shield for Murder. One of my favorite underrated noirs, Shield for Murder stars Edmond O’Brien as Barney Nolan, described on the cover of the paperback source novel as “a trigger-happy cop who hid behind the law.” The film opens with Nolan murdering a local bookie and covering it up as self-defense. What he doesn’t know is that there is a witness to his crime. Three guesses as to what he does when he finds out – and the first two don’t count.

1955:

Yikes. From the easiest year to the hardest. How to choose between The Big Combo and New York Confidential?? I gave it lots of thought and finally had to select The Big Combo. It’s one of those films that I can see a hundred times and still catch myself smiling with appreciation. Cornel Wilde stars as Lt. Leonard Diamond, who has two obsessions: a ruthless gang leader named Mr. Brown (Richard Conte), and Mr. Brown’s alluring but unstable girlfriend, Susan Lowell (Jean Wallace, Wilde’s then-wife). Also on hand are Mingo (Earl Holliman) and Fante (Lee Van Cleef), two of Mr. Brown’s loyal minions, and Joe McClure (Brian Donlevy), the number two man in Mr. Brown’s operation who meets an end that will be seared into your consciousness.

1956:

A no brainer year. My pick is one of my all-time favorite films: The Killing. This time-bending masterpiece directed by Stanley Kubrick tells the story of an unusual assortment of men – mostly non-criminals, in the traditional sense – who unite to execute a flawlessly planned racetrack heist. The men include ex-con Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden), the mastermind of the scheme; racetrack bartender Mike O’Reilly (Joe Sawyer), who needs the cash from the heist to care for his invalid wife; and mousy racetrack cashier George Peatty (Elisha Cook, Jr.), who’s hoping the big payday will build some esteem for him in the eyes of his buxom, gold-digging wife, Sherry (Marie Windsor). The Killing, for my money, is not just the best noir of 1956, but one of noir’s best offerings overall – I’ve seen it on the big screen, I own it on VHS as well as DVD, and I never miss it when it airs on TV. (Am I being clear on how much I love this one?)

1957:

I’d love to choose Plunder Road as the best film of 1957 – it’s a neat little noir, rarely discussed, but thoroughly time-worthy. But I simply must pick Sweet Smell of Success. Riveting from start to finish, this film stars Burt Lancaster as Walter Winchell-like columnist J. J. Hunsecker, who rules the streets of New York like a king with his realm, and Tony Curtis, in what I consider to be the role of his career, as Sidney Falco, a slimy press agent who’ll stop at nothing to get ahead. There’s not a dull moment in this top-notch feature – it’s one of those I can’t see enough.

1958:

I discovered Murder By Contract just a few years ago, and I’ve seen it several times since. That’s how good it is. Vince Edwards (who ain’t no Dr. Ben Casey) is spellbinding as Claude, a cold-blooded hitman with one rule: he won’t accept contracts on women. So when he’s hired to kill a witness in a mob trial, he’s thrown for a loop when he finds out his target is on the distaff side. Featuring interesting characters, first-rate writing, and a unique jazz guitar score, this is one noir you won’t soon forget.

1959:

No question: my pick for 1959 is Odds Against Tomorrow, which is also the film that I consider to be the last of the classic noir era. Directed by Robert Wise, this story centers on former cop Dave Burke (Ed Begley), who hires ex-con Earle Slater (Robert Ryan) and musician Johnny Ingram (Harry Belafonte) to carry out a bank robbery. Integral to the success of the heist is the fact that Earle is white and Johnny is black – but the scheme is complicated by Earle’s unabashed racism. The superb cast includes Shelley Winters as Earle’s devoted girlfriend, and Gloria Grahame as their trampy neighbor. Keep your eyes peeled for the film’s climax, which is literally explosive, filled with irony, and one of noir’s most powerful.

And that wraps it up for the best noirs from each year of the classic era. What are your picks? Leave a comment and let me know!

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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 Ace in the hole, Alexander Scourby, anthony caruso, brian donlevy, burt lancaster, Cornel Wilde, d.o.a., Detective Story, earl holliman, Ed Begley, Edmond O'Brien, Elisha Cook Jr, film noir, glenn ford, gloria grahame, gun crazy, harry belafonte, in a lonely place, Jack palance, james whitmore, jean hagen, Jean Wallace, Jeanette Nolan, joan crawford, john agar, Kirk Douglas, lee marvin, Lee Van Cleef, Marie Windsor, marilyn monroe, Murder by Contract, New York Confidential, Night and the City, No Man of Her Own, Noir, Noir Nook, Odds Against Tomorrow, Pickup on South Street, Plunder Road, Richard Benedict, richard conte, robert ryan, Robert Wise, sam jaffe, Scandal Sheet, Shakedown, shelley winters, shield for murder, stanley kubrick, sterling hayden, Sudden Fear, Sunset Boulevard, Sweet Smell of Success, the asphalt jungle, the big combo, The Big Heat, The Breaking Point, the damned dont cry!, the killing, The Narrow Margin, tony curtis, Vince Edwards, Where the Sidewalk Ends | 3 Comments

Silver Screen Standards: The Blob (1958)

Posted on October 11, 2022 by Jennifer Garlen

Silver Screen Standards: The Blob (1958)

I have a candy corn sweet tooth when it comes to classic science fiction movies. I love the wacky, B movie cult classics of 1950s sci-fi, with their low-budget monsters, stiff as cardboard authority figures, and screaming masses of hysterical townspeople. The Blob (1958) is one of the most iconic of this genre of creature features, partly because of Steve McQueen as its heroic human protagonist but even more because of its oozy, red jelly alien menace bent on absorbing every hapless victim who crosses its path. I’ve never had the opportunity to take part in the annual Phoenixville Blobfest in Pennsylvania, which recreates the famous movie theater scene at the Colonial Theatre, where it was originally filmed, but I love the idea of this movie being celebrated every year by hundreds of screaming fans. The Blob is justly beloved by Blobfest attendees and campy sci-fi horror fans because it’s just that much fun, and its shortcomings as serious cinematic “Art” are part of its appeal.

The Blob (1958) Aneta Corsaut and Steve McQueen — As the first people to encounter the Blob and survive, Steve (Steve McQueen) and Jane (Aneta Corsaut) struggle to get the adults in town to believe that a murderous alien goo is on the loose.

You know you’re in for silly fun the moment the rollicking bop of a theme starts the show. No creepy orchestral mood music here! The Blob gets its groove on thanks to Burt Bacharach and Mack David, who created a musical introduction that makes the alien goo sound like an older killer cousin of Slinky, the stair-climbing plastic toy (the Slinky jingle actually didn’t appear until 1962). Bacharach’s more frequent writing partner was Mack’s brother, Hal David, with whom Bacharach wrote over a hundred songs in the 1960s, including hits for Dionne Warwick. The hip beat of the theme is very much in the Bacharach style, and it connects with the novelty song craze of 50s hits like Sheb Wooley’s “The Purple People Eater,” which also debuted in 1958 and was a Billboard chart topper.

The Blob (1958) Lee Payton nurse — Kate the nurse (Lee Payton) tries to defend herself against the Blob with acid, but soon all that will be left is her nurse’s hat.

The movie that follows this theme is certainly more novelty than nightmare, with many common tropes of the 50s sci-fi shocker in use and Steve McQueen, at 28, alarmingly mature for a high school student, but it’s never dull and never expects us to take it seriously. Conveniently playing a character also named Steve, McQueen might be long overdue for a GED but still displays that easy charisma that would soon make him a star, and we understand why girlfriend Jane (Aneta Corsaut) and the other local teens follow his lead. Corsaut would go on to lasting TV fame as the amiable sheriff’s girlfriend, Helen Crump, on The Andy Griffith Show. Beyond the two leads, it’s not a star-studded cast – the Blob is the real star, after all – but the actors playing the adults get some fun scenes as they encounter the Blob and succumb to its relentless appetite. Horror-comedy fans can certainly see its influence on later films, especially Gremlins (1984), which would make a perfect double feature with The Blob if you’re in the mood to see small town America overrun by bizarre intruders. More recently, the legacy of The Blob can be seen in the Wellington Paranormal Season Three episode, “Fatberg,” in which a huge mass of congealed fat threatens residents of the New Zealand community.

The Blob (1958) theatre — In the movie’s most celebrated scene, the Blob threatens the Colonial Theatre during a packed midnight horror show.

The special effects created by Bart Sloane and Valley Forge Films hold up surprisingly well, thanks to a practical approach that employs simple techniques like stop motion to bring the goo to life. The use of garish DeLuxe Color pays off, too; we can see the Blob grow more bloated and crimson as it absorbs more townspeople, until it’s rolling over the Downingtown Diner like a giant mass of raspberry jam. More humanoid aliens from 50s sci-fi suffer from the limitations of a guy in a suit, but the Blob doesn’t have a face, or a voice, or any trappings of sentience about it. It’s just a relentless, devouring mass that absorbs frightened old men and nurses as eagerly as it consumes whole bars full of patrons. By the time we reach the climax, local police officer Dave (Earl Rowe) estimates that the oozy alien has killed 40 or 50 people, most of those entirely offscreen. We don’t need to see the actual process to understand the fate of those digested by the Blob, and the picture wisely suggests deaths without trying to document the gruesome stages by which live people are dissolved.

The Blob (1958) basement stairs — Undaunted by doors or windows, the Blob just oozes under, around, and through all obstacles, making the basement of the Downingtown Diner a poor choice of hiding places.

Despite its general sense of fun, The Blob ends with a disturbingly timely warning, as the ooze will only stay safely contained “as long as the Arctic stays cold.” Its final message of “The End?” has already inspired a 1972 sequel, Beware! The Blob, and a more graphic 1988 remake, also called The Blob. For more silly sci-fi scares from the 1950s, check out some of my other favorites, including Them! (1954), Fiend Without a Face (1958), The Alligator People (1959), and Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959). Director Irvin Yeaworth, who mostly made religious and educational films, also turned out a handful of other shockers, including 4D Man (1959), but The Blob is far and away the best known of his films.

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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 4D Man, Aneta Corsaut, Bart Sloane, Beware! The Blob, Burt Bacharach, Dionne Warwick, Earl Rowe, Fiend Without a Face, Gremlins, Hal David, Irvin Yeaworth, Mack David, Sheb Wooley, Steve McQueen, The Alligator People, The Andy Griffith Show, The Blob, Them | Leave a comment

Monsters and Matinees: Ghostly Terrors, Big Bugs and Universal Friends are Great Intros to Classic Horror

Posted on October 9, 2022 by Toni Ruberto

It’s October and everyone wants to watch a horror film.

Here at Monsters and Matinees – where we watch horror movies all year – we understand and are prepared to help out by offering suggestions of films that would be good introductions to classic horror.

Nosferatu (1922) is an easy place to start especially since it returns to movie theaters and screening rooms every October, usually with musical accompaniment that makes it quite an event to see in person.

And there’s a century of horror that follows. So pick your favorite to share with someone. Or try one of the suggestions below. They are listed by topic, and many have familiar titles or names attached which can make it easier to get someone’s interest.

Boris Karloff and Elsa Lanchester in BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN, 1935. — Universal Monster films are a great introduction to classic horror because of their familiarity. Pictured are Boris Karloff and Elsa Lanchester in *The Bride of Frankenstein.*

The Universal Monsters

Do you see all the kids with Creature from the Black Lagoon T-shirts and Bride of Frankenstein bags? Take advantage of that interest and introduce them to one of the original Universal Monster films: Dracula (1931 – and don’t forget the Spanish-language version made at the same time), Frankenstein (1931), The Mummy (1932), The Invisible Man (1933), Bride of Frankenstein (1935), The Wolf Man (1941), Phantom of the Opera (1943) and Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954).

Or start with the entertaining comedy homage Young Frankenstein (1974) and explain how it used the basic story and sets from the 1931 film. Also consider Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948) which provides a Universal monster fix and laughs.

This scene from *The Haunting* with Julie Harris is the one I consider the scariest in classic horror. I won’t spoil what has happened.

Ghostly terror

The Haunting (1963 – not the lame 1999 remake) is the most terrifying film on this list especially if you believe in ghosts and spirits like I do. Robert Wise (yes, he of West Side Story and Sound of Music) directed the taut adaptation of the Shirley Jackson novel about a paranormal researcher who brings two female mediums to a 90-year-old haunted mansion called Hill House with a disastrous outcome. You won’t see a ghost in the traditional sense, but you will feel the presence of malevolent spirits through chilling sounds and imagery of a house that’s alive. Never will the static shot of a door be as terrifying as it is here. The film is the stuff of nightmares and I mean that literally as one scene – pictured above – has affected my bedtime habits since I first saw it. (If you’ve watched the film, you know that scene. )

The cinematography is gorgeous in The Uninvited, starring Ruth Hussey and Ray Milland.

On the other end of the spectrum of ghost stories is The Uninvited (1944) a film also set in a haunted house but with a much more poetic and graceful approach. Ray Milland and Ruth Hussey are the siblings who buy an old seaside house that is already “occupied.” They meet a young lady who has a strong connection to the house and its inhabitant. It’s a beautiful film in many ways, yet it’s scary and a good mystery yarn, too. The gorgeously atmospheric cinematography is by Charles Lang. The Uninvited is a curl up on the couch with a hot chocolate kind of film.

Giant ants terrorize people from New Mexico to California in *Them!,*
universally considered the best of the big-bug movies.

Big bugs

This is my favorite horror genre. While we can downplay some horror films because they “couldn’t really happen,” but that’s not true of big bugs since they could be real – right? If you know someone with an aversion or phobia to a particular creature, there’s a big-bug film for that. Many are obvious from their title: The Black Scorpion (1957), The Deadly Mantis (1957), Attack of the Giant Leeches (1959) and the greatest of them all Tarantula (1955) directed by the equally great Jack Arnold.

Putting aside my attachment to Tarantula, start with the film that created this genre, the exceptional Them! (1954). James Arness, James Whitford and Edmund Gwenn lead the charge against giant ants that make their way from New Mexico to Los Angeles. The scene that gave the movie its title remains effective today.

Women in horror films could terrorize as much as the men. The Gorgon, in fact, could turn you to stone with one look.

The ladies

If you thought women in horror were relegated to victims, let me introduce you to Gloria Holden as Dracula’s Daughter (1936, Universal), Allison Hayes as the statuesque terror in Attack of the 50-Ft. Woman (1958), Susan Cabot as the well-meaning researcher gone wrong in Roger Corman’s The Wasp Woman (1959), Barbara Steele as victim and witch in Mario Bava’s Black Sunday (1960) and Hammer Films’ The Gorgon (1964) and her power to turn you to stone with a glance.

Bride of Frankenstein should be a given under the great ladies of horror.

Michael Redgrave and friend are terrifying in *The Ventriloquist’s Dummy*,
a segment in the horror anthology *Dead of Night*.

Anthologies

If you can’t get someone to agree to watching a full classic horror film, try an anthology. These bite-sized pieces of horror usually had three separate stories and casts that boasted multiple favorite horror actors. You can treat an anthology film like a regular feature and start at the beginning or pick a segment if time or attention is short.

Perhaps the most famous segment in a horror anthology is The Ventriloquist’s Dummy from the greatly admired Dead of Night (1945) in which an increasingly disturbed Michael Redgrave fears his creepy doll has come to life. (Also in Dead of Night is The Haunted Mirror which I find so effective that I have been known to avoid mirrors after watching it.)

Other anthologies include Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath, narrated by the disembodied head of Boris Karloff. I recommend the creepy Drop of Water segment that shows us what it looks like to be scared to death.

Tales of Terror (1962) features Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, Debra Paget, Richard Matheson and Roger Corman collaborating on tales from Edgar Allan Poe. Do you need to know anything else?

Vincent Price and Carol Ohmart make a handsome couple in *House on Haunted Hill* – too bad they’re trying to kill each other.

Familiar faces

A good place to start for a classic film newbie is with a familiar face like that of Vincent Price, especially in the easy-to-digest House on Haunted Hill. It is one of the easier classic horror films to see, especially in October. It’s quite entertaining, too, with its mix of horror, cleverness, laughs (some unintentional) and pure showmanship from director William Castle. An underrated facet of the film is the delectable and vicious verbal sparring between Price and his onscreen wife played by Carol Ohmart.

There are so many other Price horror films: The Tingler, an underappreciated gem also from Castle about a creature inside us that grows as we become frightened, the vampire tale The Last Man on Earth (1964), and the campy revenge thriller The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971).

Or go for a Christopher Lee/Peter Cushing pairing in one of the three Dracula films they made together for Hammer Films, starting with Dracula (1958, known as Horror of Dracula in the U.S.).

If this acting duo is appealing, Cushing and Lee took on other creatures for Hammer in films such as The Curse of Frankenstein (1955), The Mummy (1959) and the Sherlock Holmes tale Hound of the Baskervilles (1959). For something different, I offer Horror Express (1972) where they are trapped on a train with a shape-shifting prehistoric creature. It has my favorite line from classic horror: “The brain has been drained; the memory removed like chalk on a blackboard.”

The boogeyman

Finally, we can’t introduce people to classic horror without John Carpenter’s influential 1978 Halloween. This film created a genre and has changed the face of horror in the 40-plus years since it was made. The boogeyman has never been portrayed in such a realistic and terrifying way. Just the name Michael Myers sends chills up my arms.

I hope you find something to share from this list of horror films. If you have a favorite not mentioned, send it along. I’m always looking for a new classic horror film to watch.

– 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 abbott and costello meet frankenstein, Attack of the 50-Ft. Woman, Attack of the Giant Leeches, Black Scorpion, Black Sunday, christopher lee, Creature from the Black Lagoon, Dead of Night, Dracula (1931), Dracula's Daughter, Frankenstein, house on haunted hill, Last Man on Earth, mario bava, peter cushing, tarantula, The Abominable Dr. Phibes, The Bride of Frankenstein, The Deadly Mantis, The Gorgon, the haunting, The Mummy, The Tingler, The Uninvited, The Wasp Woman, Them, Universal Monsters, Young Frankenstein | 5 Comments

Silents are Golden: Silent Directors – The Daring Tod Browning

Posted on October 6, 2022 by Lea Stans

Silents are Golden: Silent Directors – The Daring Tod Browning

Known chiefly for his macabre masterpieces Dracula (1931) and Freaks (1932), Tod Browning is widely considered one of the all-time greatest horror film directors. But his cinematic roots stretched back much further than those early ‘30s talkies. Some people might know about his mid- to late-1920s collaborations with silent film legend Lon Chaney, but interestingly, he got his start even earlier than that.

Browning’s backstory is appropriately colorful, fitting for a man who was always fascinated by the bizarre. Born Charles Albert Browing Jr. in 1880 to a middle-class family in Louisville, Kentucky, during his childhood he developed a fascination with the circus. While his home life was comfortable it was too prosaic for the rebellious Charles, and at age 16 he decided to, quite literally, run away and join the circus. After working his way up from laborer and to sideshow barker to song-and-dance man, he also worked as a contortionist and a clown. One of his employers was none other than the Ringling Brothers circus. He also showed his flair for the macabre early on with his live burial act “The Living Hypnotic Corpse” and his adoption of the name “Tod Browning”– “Tod” being the German word for “death.”

In the mid-1900s Browning married Amy Louis Stevens but soon left her for another fascination: vaudeville. Working for several years in comedy and magic acts, he would also clown alongside comedian Charlies Murray in a sketch based on the comic strip characters Mutt and Jeff. By 1913, like many stage actors he had begun transitioning to the entirely new medium of film–and funnily enough, the future master of the grotesque would get his start in slapstick comedies.

Hired by the Biograph studio in New York, Browning was put to work in its “Komic Comedies” unit that was supervised by D.W. Griffith. His fellow performers included Fay Tincher, Max Davidson, Elmer Booth and Edward Dillon, who was also the director. Their fast paced schedule resulted in one comedy short a week, and Browning learned about the filmmaking process very quickly, ultimately deciding he wanted to start directing himself.

A publicity image from the Komic Comedy *A Flurry in Art* (1915).

His first effort at directing is thought to be The Lucky Transfer (1915), about two robbers who accidentally give away the hiding place of their loot. But a tragic event in 1915 was certainly a strong influence on Browning’s future leanings towards the dark and grotesque. While driving drunk one night with friends Elmer Booth and George Siegmann, he collided with a railroad flat car loaded with steel rails. Booth was killed instantly, and both Browning and Siegmann were badly injured. After months of slow recovery Browning would turn to screenwriting, and he started directing again in 1917, his acting days now behind him. He would also marry Alice Watson (this marriage would last until her death in 1944).

He would lean heavily towards melodrama in his directing career, and themes of guilt, moral or sexual frustration, criminality, hypocrisy, and freakishness would pop up repeatedly. He directed films for Fine Arts/Triangle, Metro Pictures, and Bluebird Photoplays. With titles like The Jury of Fate (1917) and The Eyes of Mystery (1918), these films were consistently profitable and gave him the reputation of being a successful director. Moving over to Universal, where he would direct until 1923, some of his most popular films starred Priscilla Dean, often in “underworld dame” types of roles. Universal was also where Browning worked with the great Lon Chaney for the first time, starting with The Wicked Darling (1919). This would be followed a couple years later by Outside the Law (1921), where Chaney played a dual role of both a virtuous character and a villain. A highlight was a much-admired trick photography scene where Chaney’s villain character appeared to murder his virtuous counterpart.

Chaney, with his sensitive acting skills, flair for grotesque characters, and tough features that lent themselves well to crime stories, was an excellent match for Browning’s kind of films. When Universal’s vice president Irving Thalberg moved over to MGM, Chaney and Browning decided to follow him. The eight MGM films they made together are considered some of the finest of both their careers, the plots revolving around “freakish” characters, circuses, and more of those criminal underworlds.

A set still from the production of *The Unholy Three* (featuring Browning on the right).

Examples include The Unholy Three (1925), their first MGM film, which had Chaney playing a cross-dressing ventriloquist who teams up with a dwarf performer and a strongman to become jewel thieves–a decidedly eclectic start. In The Blackbird (1926) Chaney played a criminal known as “The Blackbird” who creates a saintly (and physically deformed) alter ego called “The Bishop.” The shocking The Unknown (1927), probably the best of the Browning/Chaney collaborations, presented Chaney as a circus performer in love with his beautiful assistant, who has a pathological fear of being embraced by men. He decides to have his arms amputated for her, but the results become tragic in more ways than one.

Chaney and Joan Crawford in *The Unknown* (1927).

Today, however, the most famous Browning/Chaney film also happens to be the most famous lost silent of all time: London After Midnight (1927). Chaney plays a detective investigating a murder at a London mansion. Events turn surreal when the bizarre “Man in the Beaver Hat” and a pale, goul-like woman take up residence in the abandoned mansion and start frightening the neighbors. Ah, but could there be a connection between the detective and the Man in the Beaver Hat? Much of the lost film’s mystique revolves around Chaney’s iconic spooky makeup, where he widened his eyes with wires and added shark-like teeth. While the film itself was tepidly reviewed back in the day, tantalizing stills of Chaney amid creepy, quasi-German Expressionist surroundings make London After Midnight the most eagerly sought-after lost silent.

One of those tantalizing *London After Midnight* (1927) stills.

Browning’s last silent was Where East is East (1929), starring Chaney as an animal trapper in Laos. He worked with Chaney in one talkie, Outside the Law (1930), a remake of his own 1921 film. But sadly, Chaney would pass away from lung cancer during the filming of Dracula (1931), and was famously replaced as the lead by Bela Legosi. The rest of Browning’s directing career, as we know, is history, lasting until 1939 and leaving bizarre classics like Freaks (1932) and The Mark of the Vampire (1935) in its wake. He lived a reclusive life in Malibu until 1962, isolated from the Hollywood establishment that once thought of him as “the Edgar Allan Poe of the cinema.”

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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 Bela Lugosi, d.w. griffith, dracula, Edward Dillon, Elmer Booth, Fay Tincher, Freaks, George Siegmann, irving thalberg, Lon Chaney, London After Midnight, Max Davidson, Outside the Law, silent cinema, silent film, silent film era, silent films, silent movie, silent movies, silents are golden, The Blackbird, The Eyes of Mystery, The Jury of Fate, The Lucky Transfer, The Mark of the Vampire, The Unholy Three, The Unknown, The Wicked Darling, Tod Browning, Where East is East | 2 Comments

Western RoundUp: The Violent Men (1955)

Posted on September 28, 2022 by Laura Grieve

**Western RoundUp: The Violent Men (1955)**

This spring I wrote here about watching Forty Guns (1957) for the first time.

Forty Guns was an outstanding Western directed by Samuel Fuller, with Barbara Stanwyck leading a top cast. Finally catching up with that film has now prompted me to also watch The Violent Men (1955), another Stanwyck Western with an impressive cast.

The Violent Men (1955) Movie Poster — *The Violent Men* (1955)

While I classed Forty Guns as a top-of-the-line Western, I rank The Violent Men somewhere lower; I found it solid and quite entertaining yet somewhat disjointed. Sometimes I felt that the pieces were better than the whole.

Glenn Ford plays John Parrish, a Civil War veteran who’s been living in the West for a few years to aid his recovery from a lung injury.

When the town doctor (Raymond Greenleaf) gives John a clean bill of health, John plans to sell his spread and move east with his fiancee, Caroline Vail (May Wynn).

May Wynn and Richard Jaeckel in The Violent Men (1955) — Lita Milan and Richard Jaeckel in *The Violent Men* (1955)

Lew Wilkinson (Edward G. Robinson), the crippled but powerful owner of the massive Anchor Ranch, essentially orders John to sell his ranch to him for a low price and gives him 24 hours to respond, with the implication John won’t like the outcome if he refuses. Pressured by his fiancee, who’s desperate to leave town, John initially intends to agree, and then one of his hands is murdered by Anchor Ranch thugs. That changes everything.

John prevents his own ranch hands from retaliating in order to protect them, then sets out to deal with the situation on his own. When John confronts the man (Richard Jaeckel) responsible for the murder and he refuses to turn himself in, John ends up killing him in self-defense.

Richard Jaeckel as Wade Matlock in The Violent Men (1955) — Richard Jaeckel as Wade Matlock

Lew’s brother Cole (Brian Keith) and wife Martha (Stanwyck), who are secretly having an affair and want to take control of Lew’s empire, escalate the warfare, including burning down John’s ranch. John, however, has a good understanding of tactics due to his military background and gives the Wilkinsons a much tougher battle than they expect.

When the Wilkinsons’ own ranchhouse is burned down, the coldly calculating Martha leaves the struggling Lew to die in the fire instead of helping him escape the house. She believes she and Cole will take over the ranch and rebuild it bigger than ever, but surprises are in store.

There’s a lot of good stuff in this film, a Shakespearean-style tragedy which reminded me a bit of Broken Lance (1954). The cast, down to supporting players like Jaeckel, Basil Ruysdael, Jack Kelly, and James Westerfield, is absolutely top-notch.

Stanwyck doesn’t enter the film until around the half-hour mark, but as ever, she’s one of the main reasons to watch. Initially it appears butter wouldn’t melt in Martha’s mouth, as she seems to be Lew’s concerned, caring wife; she only wants Cole there to lighten Lew’s load, given that Lew can barely walk with crutches. But why won’t her daughter Judith (Dianne Foster) talk to her?

Glenn Ford, Barbara Stanwyck and Edward G. Robinson in The Violent Men (1955) — Edward G. Robinson, Dianne Foster, and Glenn Ford

Gradually Martha’s malevolent, grasping side becomes clear, as we learn that Judith is disgusted by the fact her mother and uncle are having an affair behind her father’s back. Judith feels trapped and uncertain what to do, given that she doesn’t want to hurt her father with the news. Judith sees John as someone who might help by taking on the fight against Martha and Cole.

It’s interesting to compare Stanwyck’s Martha to her character in the later Forty Guns. In The Violent Men Martha seeks power by manipulating men to do her bidding and provide her with the huge ranch of her dreams, whereas in Forty Guns Stanwyck’s character has more agency, being personally powerful; in that film, unlike Martha, she ultimately shows she has a conscience.

Edward G. Robinson, Glenn Ford, Brian Keith and Barbara Stanwyck in The Violent Men (1955) — Glenn Ford, Brian Keith, Edward G. Robinson, and Barbara Stanwyck

Like Martha, Cole is of extremely low character; not only is he one of the brutal “violent men” of the title and carrying on an affair with his sister-in-law, he’s also having a fling with Elena (Lita Milan), a girl in town.

Like Stanwyck, Keith completely embraces the evil; my job dropped in the scene when, believing Martha will make him rich, he rejects the loyal, loving Elena and flings her to the ground in the middle of the street. It’s a shocking moment with significant consequences.

This is one of a couple strong Western performances by Keith in the late ’50s; he was also in the excellent Clint Walker–Virginia Mayo Western Fort Dobbs (1958), a film I enthusiastically recommend. Milan is touching as the woman who (somewhat inexplicably) loves Cole. The actress would later make an impression in a larger role as Anthony Quinn‘s equally loyal girlfriend in the Western The Ride Back (1957), a film which deserves to be more widely known.

Ford and Robinson are likewise very solid as well. Ford is right on target as someone who would rather be a “peaceable man,” but when pushed he will always do the right thing, particularly in defense of others. Robinson is interesting as the ostensible villain of the piece who turns out to be more misguided and pathetic than villainous; those honors go to Stanwyck and Keith’s characters.

Barbara Stanwyck and Brian Keith in The Violent Men (1955) — Stanwyck and Keith

Other strong points are the cinematography, largely filmed on location in Lone Pine by W. Howard Greene and Burnett Guffey, and a score by Max Steiner.

The film’s flaws are due more to the screenplay, written by Harry Kleiner from a novel by Donald Hamilton, and the direction by cinematographer-turned-director Rudolph Mate.

The script is crammed with characters, and the story, told in 96 minutes, could have been tighter. For instance, there’s really not much point to the character of John’s fiancee Caroline, who apparently has been using John more as a way out of town than truly loving him; when he refuses to leave, she gives him back his ring and she completely disappears from the film.

John already had reason enough to leave town after regaining his health, and the added pressure from a whiny woman doesn’t add a whole lot. Caroline’s complete disappearance has a bit of a feel of “What was that even all about?” wondering why we’ve invested any time in her character.

At the same time, John and Judith’s relationship is underdeveloped, so that the last lines of the film are almost — but not quite — a surprise. Any screen time invested in Caroline should have instead been spent developing Foster’s Judith, who could have used fleshing out, and her relationships with each character, especially John.

Without being too spoilerish, I also felt director Mate could have done much more with the buildup and reveal of a couple of twists in the final action sequence, which instead of being exciting have an almost perfunctory feel. There are some great ideas to utilize in this scene, and the director almost throws them away with “blink and you miss it” moments.

Mate directed other films I love, notably Tyrone Power‘s The Mississippi Gambler (1953), and he does a great job staging the Ford-Jaeckel showdown midway through this movie, but his work here is inconsistent.

A couple fun odds and ends regarding the cast: This was the second Western in which May Wynn and future Maverick TV star Jack Kelly appeared; they had also played supporting roles in They Rode West (1954). They would marry in October 1956 and remain married for eight years.

Dianne Foster, whose additional Westerns included The Kentuckian (1955) and Night Passage (1957), retired from films and television in 1966. She had married a dentist, Dr. Harold Rowe, in 1961, and they remained married until his passing in 1994. Imagine my surprise a few years ago when I was reading an article about Foster and it suddenly dawned on me that the oral surgeon who had removed all my children’s wisdom teeth was her son, who followed his father into dentistry.

While visiting Lone Pine last June I had the opportunity to visit the location of Robinson and Stanwyck’s Anchor Ranch on Moffat Ranch Road. Budd Boetticher’s Randolph Scott film Comanche Station (1960) filmed scenes in the same area.

The Violent Men (1955) Anchor Ranch location Lone Pine — Edward G. Robinson and Barbara Stanwyck’s Anchor Ranch location in Lone Pine

Our location guide told me that Stanwyck’s final scene was shot here:

The Violent Men (1955) Anchor Ranch location Lone Pine Stanwyck — Stanwyck’s final scene was filmed here on Moffat Ranch Road

Somewhat confusingly, there is a real Anchor Ranch south of Lone Pine, on Highway 395, which predates the film and was often used as a movie location. For the history of Anchor Ranch and filming in Lone Pine, please visit my Western RoundUp column from September 2018.

After the filming of The Violent Men concluded, the anchor seen at the ranch entrance in the film was moved to the entrance of the actual Anchor Ranch; today a replica anchor hangs there, which has caused some visitors — including myself, at one point! — to erroneously believe it’s the ranch location used in the movie.

Here’s a look at the real Anchor Ranch entrance and the replica anchor today:

The Violent Men (1955) Anchor Ranch entrance replica — Anchor replica at the entrance of the real Anchor Ranch in Lone Pine

I hope to dig deeper into the locations for The Violent Men when I’m in town again for the Lone Pine Film Festival in October 2022.

In summary, I rank The Violent Men as a good, interesting film, though a tighter script and more thoughtful staging would have elevated it from simply “good” to “outstanding.”

Despite the flaws, it’s well worth taking the time to watch. It’s available on DVD from Sony/Columbia. It had a VHS release and is currently available to rent for streaming. I hope that at some point it will also be out on Blu-ray.

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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 Posts by Laura Grieve, Western RoundUp | Tagged Anchor Ranch, Anthony Quinn, barbara stanwyck, Basil Ruysdael, brian keith, Broken Lance, Clint Walker, Comanche Station, Dianne Foster, Edward G. Robinson, Fort Dobbs, Forty Guns, glenn ford, Jack Kelly, James Westerfield, Lita Milan, Lone Pine, Lone Pine Film Festival, May Wynn, Night Passage, Randolph Scott, Raymond Greenleaf, Richard Jaeckel, samuel fuller, The Kentuckian, The Mississippi Gambler, The Ride Back, The Violent Men, They Rode West, Tyrone Power, virginia mayo, western, western movies, Western Roundup, westerns | 10 Comments

Classic Movie Travels: Marcy McGuire

Posted on September 24, 2022 by Annette Bochenek

Classic Movie Travels: Marcy McGuire – Iowa and California

Marcy McGuire was an actress and singer who was already working in the entertainment industry by her teenage years. She was born on February 22, 1926, in Kansas City, Kansas, as Marilyn Jeanne McGuire, to film projectionist James McGuire and his wife, Annona. Her parents divorced during her childhood.

In the 1940s, McGuire’s mother remarried to vet Carroll F. Alexander. They lived in a Des Moines, Iowa, home, along with a housekeeper. There, she attended Roosevelt High School.

Soon after, McGuire sang in nightclubs and signed with RKO Pictures and was cast in Seven Days’ Leave (1942) at the age of 16. Her bright, spunky personality shone through in additional film roles, including Higher and Higher (1942), Career Girl (1944), It Happened in Brooklyn (1947), and You Gotta Stay Happy (1948). RKO sporadically made use of her talent, typically casting her as a boy-crazy character. This is best evidenced in Higher and Higher, in which McGuire acts as a housemaid who swoons over Frank Sinatra. Sinatra portrays himself.[

Marcy McGuire and Frank Sinatra — Frank Sinatra and Marcy McGuire

In September 1947, McGuire married actor Wally Cassell. Their marriage produced two children. McGuire and Cassell remained married until his passing at age 103.

McGuire also appeared in Jumping Jacks (1952) with Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis. After appearing in an uncredited role as a maid in Summer Magic (1963), McGuire retired from Hollywood.

McGuire passed away on August 7, 2021, in her Palm Desert home. She was 95.

McGuire’s Kansas City home was located at 2503 N. 20th St., Kansas City, Kansas. The original home no longer stands.

McGuire’s next home exists today at 3937 Douglas Dr., Des Moines, Iowa.

Mary McGuire's home, Des Moines, Iowa — McGuire’s home in Des Moines, Iowa

Her alma mater, Roosevelt High School, stands at 4419 Center St., Des Moines, Iowa.

McGuire’s alma mater, Roosevelt High School in Des Moines

When McGuire passed, her residence was located at 681 Red Arrow Trl., Palm Desert, California. This home remains today.

Mary McGuire's home, Palm Desert, California — McGuire’s home in Palm Desert, 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 | 1 Comment

Silents are Golden: 8 Great Silent Film Books for Your Library

Posted on September 15, 2022 by Lea Stans

Silents are Golden: 8 Great Silent Film Books for Your Library

Maybe it’s because of those title cards, but a love of silent films and a love of reading about silent films seem to go hand in hand. If you’re new to books on early cinema and would love to know where to start, I have some handy suggestions–and believe me, paring down the list to just eight choices was quite a challenge!

The Parade’s Gone By by Kevin Brownlow

Every list should naturally start with Brownlow’s milestone book, the gold standard for everything that’s been published since. Based on numerous interviews he conducted in the ‘60s and ‘70s with every former silent film star, director, editor, writer, etc. he could track down, The Parade’s Gone By is a compilation of countless priceless reminisces about the silent days and contains an abundance of detail about every aspect of early film making. It’s woven through with Brownlow’s passionate research and thoughtful observations about an era he was determined to keep from being forgotten–and I’d say he succeeded.

A Million and One Nights by Terry Ramsaye

Written in 1925, this was one of the earliest books to tackle the story of film–starting, ambitiously, with musings on mankind’s advancements in creation and communication throughout history. (A sample chapter title: “From Aristotle to Philadelphia, PA.”) Since cinema was still evolving and maturing as Ramsaye wrote, it’s a fascinating time capsule. While today’s research shows that not all of his facts turned out to be accurate, it’s an enthusiastic, wonderfully written book. How often do you read a sentence like, “The crab-apple of Eden and the orange of Hollywood are undoubtedly of the same tree,” in regards to love stories in art?

The Silent Clowns by Walter Kerr

Another milestone of great writing on early cinema, Kerr’s passionate, deeply analytical approach to the work of the great silent clowns just about glows with love and admiration for their work. Covering a wide range of talents from Buster Keaton to lesser known figures like Lloyd Hamilton, he examines their unique gifts and makes a thoughtful case for why some comedians stand out above the rest. A remarkable tome that’s been called a love letter to silent comedy more than once.

The Transformation of Cinema: 1907-1915 by Eileen Bowser

If you really want to explore some details of early filmmaking, I can think of few works better than Bowser’s deep dive into every aspect of American cinema from the nickelodeon period until 1915. Highly readable and highly fascinating, it covers a gamut of topics from nickelodeon theater interiors to early film advertisements to censorship to styles of acting. Bowser was the former Curator of Film at NYC’s Museum of Modern Art and her wealth of knowledge and meticulous research is practically unparalleled. Whether you’re a hardcore silent film fans and or someone new to the genre, you’ll be glad to have this book.

An Evening’s Entertainment: The Age of the Silent Feature Picture, 1915-1928 by RichardKoszarski

Picking up where Bowser left off, this volume is equally detailed and equally fascinating.

The number of topics covered is astounding, and its breezy focus on the technical and business sides of filmmaking never gets too dry or academic. Searching for descriptions of film showings in the ‘20s? Looking for some early box office stats or info on theater admissions? Hoping to find overviews of some key directors? Interested in the ins and outs of poster designs? You will find all of this and much, much more in a book that I consider downright indispensable.

The Haunted Screen: Expressionism in the German Cinema and the Influence of Max Reinhardt by Lotte H. Eisner

The many fans of classics like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) and Nosferatu (1922) can’t go wrong with the great German-French historian’s most acclaimed book. It thoroughly covers the genre of German Expressionism, from its roots in modern art and Expressionist theater to the familiar 1920s masterpieces by F.W. Murnau and Fritz Lang. It also covers a number of minor German Expressionist films that you probably haven’t heard of. All this, combined with Eisner’s incisive analysis and a number of great stills, make it a very useful reference tool on this unique niche of film history.

American Silent Film by William K. Everson

This classic survey of early American cinema is on many silent film fan’s shelves. Taking the reader on a comprehensive journey from film’s earliest days all the way through to the early talkies, Everson’s book concentrates a bit more on the artistic side of filmmaking and also gives credit to the influence of European filmmaking. It was also one of the first books to thoroughly cover pre-1920 films. It’s a work I’ve referenced many times, and no doubt you’ll find it fascinating too.

The Keystone Kid: Tales of Early Hollywood by Coy Watson Jr.

And now for something a little different! Comprehensive surveys and detailed analyses are all well and good, but sometimes it’s nice to see a more personal side of “the industry.” Coy Watson Jr. grew up quite literally down the street from Mack Sennett’s Keystone studio, and his father was one of the first official special effects experts in Hollywood. Coy and his eight siblings would all act in the movies alongside numerous great stars, both silents and talkies. In 2001 he decided to share his family’s memories and release this charming memoir. It’s both a priceless, up-close-and-personal account of early Hollywood and an affectionate portrait of a very close and hardworking family. It’s a beautiful book that more people could stand to know about.

Obviously this is a very brief starting point for building your very own silent film library, but I hope it helps! Much like the films themselves, these are books that can be enjoyed and pondered for many years to come.

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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 books, Buster Keaton, Classic Movie Books, f.w. murnau, Fritz Lang, mack sennett, Nosferatu, silent film, silent movies, silents are golden, The Cabinet of Dr.Caligari | 3 Comments

Silver Screen Standards: The Wolf Man (1941)

Posted on September 13, 2022 by Jennifer Garlen

Silver Screen Standards: The Wolf Man (1941)

The Wolf Man (1941) Lon Chaney Jr. — Chaney’s werewolf form makes him monstrous but retains enough of his humanity to be unsettling, especially because we can see his very human eyes in the monster’s face.

When I’m asked to choose a favorite among the classic Universal monster movies, I always pick The Wolf Man (1941). As much as I love Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi in their iconic monster roles, there’s something profoundly tragic about Lon Chaney Jr. as the unwilling werewolf, and the story always gets into my psyche and prowls around there in the dark corners, sniffing at my suspicion that the monster I most fear is the one who lives inside me. Unlike his monstrous peers, the Wolf Man is a living human being, guilty of no wrong, who is as horrified by his transformation as anyone else but utterly unable to stop it or prevent his bestial alter ego from wreaking havoc. What could be more terrifying? It’s this deeply sad and terrible premise that makes The Wolf Man such a great horror movie and an inspiration to the many stories that have followed it.

The Wolf Man (1941) Lon Chaney Jr. and Evelyn Ankers — Unable to control his bestial urges, Larry attacks Gwen (Evelyn Ankers), the girl he loves.

It’s true that The Wolf Man has its weaknesses as a picture, and Lon Chaney Jr. is not the gruesome chameleon that his father was in silent horror masterpieces, but Chaney’s ordinary face and manner remind us that this is the story of an everyman, not an extraordinary fiend or a lunatic driven by his unholy passions. Larry Talbot is the Americanized, prodigal son of an old English family; the disconnect between Chaney’s size and accent when compared to those of Claude Rains, who plays his father, Sir John, can seem a bit absurd but also emphasizes their emotional separation. As modern viewers we’re rightly troubled by the stereotyped depiction of the story’s Romani characters, but still Maria Ouspenskaya moves and compels us with her portrayal of Maleva, a sympathetic mother grieving the fate of her son and striving to help Larry even though the odds are against him. Maleva’s doomed son Bela, played by none other than Lugosi himself, is no more willingly culpable for his actions than Larry. The “wolf” we occasionally see might not fool anyone who has ever seen either a wolf or a German Shepherd, but it takes a lot of trust between man and dog for those scenes, and it’s weirdly heartwarming to know that Chaney’s pet dog, Moose, substitutes for the fearsome predator.

The Wolf Man (1941) Maria Ouspenskaya — Maleva (Maria Ouspenskaya) loses her son to the curse but tries to help Larry resist his murderous moonlight urges.

The message of The Wolf Man is best expressed by the ominous verse that we hear repeated throughout the picture: “Even a man who is pure of heart,/ And says his prayers by night,/ May become a wolf when the wolfsbane blooms/ And the autumn moon is bright.” The lines have the ring of an old nursery rhyme but were written by Curt Siodmak, who penned the original screenplay. As a Polish Jew born in Germany, Siodmak knew too well the way fate forces people into monstrous situations; he had fled Europe for the United States in 1937 as the Nazis ramped up their anti-Semitic aggression. Siodmak might have had his own powerlessness against fate in mind when he wrote the screenplay, but it speaks to the universal fear we share of being unable to stop terrible things from happening. Even more troubling is the fear that we cannot stop ourselves from becoming the monsters we abhor.

Siodmak’s story also taps into the medieval sense of the Wheel of Fortune and de casibus tragedy, in which people fall into the worst suffering from the promising heights of happiness. Larry Talbot is such a person, tied to Fortune’s relentlessly spinning wheel. He comes home, is reconciled with his father, meets a girl he likes, and is poised to inherit his father’s estate, but the werewolf’s fatal bite turns everything to ruin. Larry commits no crime to merit such a fate; he is simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to do the right thing by rushing to the aid of the werewolf’s latest victim. He’s not a mad scientist playing God, an adulterer performing profane rituals, or a bloodthirsty count enjoying his immortality. That’s what makes Larry’s story both moving and terrifying. He’s a normal person, just like us, living his normal life until something horrific snatches it all away.

The Wolf Man (1941) Claude Rains — The final twist of the curse makes Sir John (Claude Rains) his son’s unwitting executioner.

The tragic power of The Wolf Man has been harnessed many times since Chaney first donned the iconic werewolf makeup and stalked Evelyn Ankers through the foggy moonlit wood, with Chaney himself revisiting the role numerous times. He played Larry Talbot again in Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943), House of Frankenstein (1944), House of Dracula (1945), and Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), proving that one of Larry’s worst torments is his inability to die and end the curse. Simone Simon provides a feminine take on the story in Cat People (1942), while David Naughton plays a younger but no less tortured lycanthrope in An American Werewolf in London (1981). Even the cult horror comedy classic, Monster Squad (1987), understands that the werewolf is best understand as a victim of his fate. For a precursor to the 1941 picture, see Werewolf of London (1935), starring Henry Hull. If you’re interested in the medieval roots of werewolf lore, read the 12^th century French “Bisclavret,” written by Marie de France.

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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.

Posted in Posts by Jennifer Garlen, Silver Screen Standards | Tagged abbott and costello meet frankenstein, Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, cat people, claude rains, Evelyn Ankers, Frankenstein Meets Wolf Man, Henry Hull, House of Dracula, House of Frankenstein, Maria Ouspenskaya, Simone Simon, the wolf man, Universal Monsters, Warewolf of London | 3 Comments

Monsters and Matinees: A Tribute to Carl Kolchak, Monster Hunter

Posted on September 10, 2022 by Toni Ruberto

A Tribute to Carl Kolchak, Monster Hunter

Let’s be honest creature feature fans. We may love the monsters, but we enjoy the hunt, too.

Van Helsing, Hellboy, Solomon Kane and yes, the Scooby Gang, are among the most well-known of that special breed of monster hunters, but tops on my list is Carl Kolchak.

Without this fictional newspaper reporter who battled monsters to save the world on 1970s television, we wouldn’t have the likes of Mulder and Scully (The X-Files), Buffy (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), and the Winchester brothers (Supernatural).

Kolchak debuted in the 1972 TV movie The Night Stalker and is immortalized as a pop-culture icon in his trademark straw hat, seersucker suit and white sneakers.

That was 50 years ago, yet new books, graphic novels and home video releases continue to be created; fan art and watch parties are shared through Facebook groups dedicated to Kolchak. Pilgrimages are still made to the Old Colony Building in Chicago, which was the exterior for Kolchak’s office, the International News Service.

One reason for the continued interest is that Kolchak reminds fans of their childhood, said Gregg Davis, founder of the “Kolchak: The Night Stalker” Facebook group. “So many have memories of watching with a parent and being terrified – it was the first really scary show many members ever watched. Those memories are burned into their minds and finding others who share those memories is exciting,” said Davis who started his group, which now has 29,000 members, in 2005.

Played by the engaging Darren McGavin, Kolchak battled more than 20 different creatures all in the name of getting a good story. There were the “usuals” like vampires, werewolves and witches, along with creepy creatures like an energy-eating entity, invisible aliens, a headless motorcyclist, succubus and ape-man.

But the emphasis through two TV movies and a 20-episode series was on Kolchak, not the monsters, and that “solidified the character of Kolchak in the history of television,” said Kendall R. Phillips, author of the new book “Kolchak: The Night Stalker,” part of the TV Milestones series from Wayne State University Press.

“Previously the focus was on the victim or the monster, or it would bounce back and forth between the two. If you had a monster hunter like Van Helsing, he showed up in the third act,” Phillips said, adding that focusing on Kolchak, “changed the face of horror.”

And, let’s be honest, that was an accomplishment for a character who was learning monster hunting on the job. Luckily, he was a darn good reporter. So, while he didn’t know science, folklore or mythology, he expertly wielded tough questions which usually got him in trouble but also provided answers.

“I ask a lot of questions; seems nobody likes that – cops, voodooists or politicians,” Kolchak says in The Zombie.

He was persistent and stubborn, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He wouldn’t let go of a good story, not even for a ticket to see the Cubs in the World Series. And he was willing to explore the most unbelievable possibilities to solve murders and investigate strange phenomenon.

Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) may be afraid of his shadow, but he still puts himself at risk by going alone into dangerous areas, to get his story.

Like the modern-day horror character who walks into the dark basement, Kolchak was always going where he shouldn’t – into an old house, an abandoned property, the sewers or the woods. Stumbling and bumbling, he knocked things over and made noise, drawing dangerous attention to himself. If there was a closet or doorway, Kolchak will surely back up against it and into the deadly arms of whatever terror awaits.

He was a fraidy cat who would jump at his own shadow, but he was somehow also foolishly brave. My favorite moment, if you can call it a favorite since it’s so creepy, is the scene where a clearly terrified Kolchak crawls into a hearse to “kill” a zombie by putting sugar in its mouth and sewing its lips shut (The Zombie).

He’s usually out of his league and that perennial underdog status is another aspect his enduring appeal, Davis of “Kolchak: The Night Stalker” Facebook group said.

“Kolchak always fights back and always triumphs, even if no one ever believes him,” Davis said. “His sense of humor makes him especially likable. Lots of great writers and directors were a part of the show, and it was generally a step above other TV shows of the time.”

While reporting, Kolchak discovered things so fantastic that authorities made sure his stories never saw the light of the day. They ripped film from his camera, the tape from his recorder and confiscated photos from his office. Stories were pulled and replaced with safe, sanitized versions of the “truth.”

Carl Kolchak is on the other side of the crucifix as he fends off vampire Janos Skorzeny (played by Barry Atwater) in *The Night Stalker* movie.

Since he couldn’t share his stories with readers of the International News Service, he told them to TV viewers in the always entertaining and mood-setting monologues that opened and closed each story.

“Chicago was being stalked by a horror so frightening, so fascinating, that it ranks with the great mysteries of all times. It’s been the fictional subject of novels, plays, films, even an opera. Now, here, are the true facts,” he tells us in the opening of The Ripper, the first episode in the TV series.

He knew how to grab our attention and we were happy to give it to him. It’s no wonder that Chris Carter was so inspired by watching Kolchak as a kid that he created his own truth-seekers in The X-Files.

The history of Kolchak

Carl Kolchak was introduced in The Kolchak Papers, an unpublished novel by Jeff Rice who was a reporter at the Las Vegas Sun. Though it failed to garner the interest of publishers, it was picked up by ABC Studios and turned into the made-for-TV movie The Night Stalker written by Richard Matheson for producer Dan Curtis.

In the movie, Kolchak is working for the International News Service in Las Vegas and complaining, as is his nature, about his latest assignment, a “two-day-old, third-rate murder.”

It quickly becomes his No. 1 priority when he learns the enticing news that victims were drained of blood. When the suspect is identified as a 70-year-old man named Janos Skorzeny (played by Barry Atwater) with superhuman strength and a body that can withstand point-blank bullets, Kolchak’s Spidey sense goes up.

It doesn’t take long for him to say the “V” word, nor to pull out a hammer and stake, imploring police authorities to “proceed under the assumption that he’s a vampire.”

“Are you suggesting that we pound one of those in Skorzeny’s chest?” Kolchak is asked.

“No, into his heart,” he says, speaking the language of horror fans.

Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) explains to police how they can kill a vampire in the TV movie *The Night Stalker.*

The Night Stalker was an overwhelming yet unexpected success, becoming the highest-rated TV movie at the time. (It’s puzzling that anyone would be surprised that a collaboration between Matheson, who wrote such classics as the vampire/zombie novel I Am Legend and many of the most memorable episodes of The Twilight Zone, and Curtis, the man responsible for Dark Shadows, would be a success.)

A sequel was quickly ordered, and The Night Strangler followed in 1973. Kolchak, banished from Las Vegas, was now in Seattle where his reputation – and trouble – followed. Young female murder victims are found with a needle puncture at the base of their scull and rotting pieces of flesh on their neck. With some research and old newspapers, Kolchak finds similar murders have taken place every 21 years going back a century. A trip into Seattle’s fascinating but spooky underground city is the next stop on Kolchak’s agenda.

The Night Strangler was another success, leading ABC to order a series. Kolchak: The Night Stalker premiered on Sept. 13, 1974 with The Ripper and a serial killer, who, you may have guessed, has disturbing similarities to Jack the Ripper.

From there, the episodes kept it fun with talk of a man with X-ray eyes, an Elixir of Life, ancient frozen cells, cursed tablets and oozing substances.

But it also followed a monster-of-the-week format, one reason that star Darren McGavin was so unhappy that he left the series before it completed a full season. But it still made its mark.

“For a show that didn’t last even a full season, it imprinted itself on American popular culture,” Phillips said. “People know that iconic straw hat and that seersucker suit. When he died, virtually every obit mentioned two of his parts: the father in ‘Christmas Story’ and Kolchak. Kolchak took a huge part of America’s imagination – and it continues to keep our imagination.”

Richard Kiel plays a sinister shaman who towers over Carl Kolchak (Darren McGavin) in the episode *Bad Medicine* from *Kolchak: The Night Stalker.*

The guest stars

The Kolchak movies and TV series all boasted great supporting casts led by Simon Oakland as Kolchak’s beleaguered and blustery boss Tony Vincenzo.

The list of police captains Kolchak frustrated and alienated were played by the likes of Keenan Wynn, Charles Aidman, John Marley and Larry Linville.

He also cultivated his reporting sources well. A favorite was Wally Cox who was perfectly cast as mousy researcher Titus Berry. I get caught up in their kid-like excitement as they discover the pattern to a murderer who strikes every 21 years in The Night Strangler. “Shall we try for 1889?” Titus asks.

Villains included Richard Kiel who played different creatures in The Spanish Moss Murders and Bad Medicine, soap star Eric Braeden was the title character in The Werewolf and Cathy Lee Crosby as a lovely woman who retained her youthful beauty at the expense of others in The Youth Killer.

Other familiar faces (and voices) are J. Pat O’Malley, Alice Ghostley, Julie Adams, Jim Backus, Erik Estrada and the wonderful Ruth McDevitt as the news agency’s puzzle maker and advice columnist, Miss Emily, who had an very sweet relationship with Kolchak.

Look for special guest star Kathie Brown, McGavin’s wife, in the episode Sentry.

– Toni Ruberto for Classic Movie Hub

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

Posted in Classic TV, Horror, Monsters and Matinees, Posts by Toni Ruberto | Tagged Barry Atwater, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Carl Kolchak, Chris Carter, Dan Curtis, dark shadows, Darren McGavin, Kendall R. Phillips, Kolchak: The Night Stalker, Richard Matheson, The X-Files | 2 Comments

Noir Nook: Best Noir of the Year – Part I

Posted on September 8, 2022 by Karen Burroughs Hannsberry

Noir Nook: Best Noir of the Year – Part I

If you know me, you’ll know I love a good list. And what better lists to make than lists about classic film noir features? This time around, I’m serving up my favorite film noir from each year of the classic noir era which, in my estimation, started in 1940 and ended in 1959. As you can imagine, coming up with just one noir per year involved a great deal of thought and some painful decisions, but I managed to settle on a final list of my ultimate picks. For September’s Noir Nook, I’m sharing the first 10 years of the classic noir era – next month, I’ll wrap up the list with 1950 through 1959. Here goes…

1940:

This year wasn’t very difficult – the classic film noir era was just getting started, and there were only a handful of pictures that would fit in this category. For sentimental reasons, because I consider it to be the very first noir, I’d like to say Stranger on the Third Floor, but my true favorite is The Letter. This feature stars Bette Davis as Leslie Crosbie, the wife of a rubber plantation owner in Malaysia (and who, incidentally, is deserving of an honorable mention on my list of memorable femme entrances). The picture opens with Leslie’s multiple gunshot murder of her lover, and the defense of her elaborate alibi hinges upon the letter of the film’s title – a missive written from Leslie to her lover, and now in the possession of the dead man’s Malaysian wife (Gale Sondergaard).

1941:

I know that The Maltese Falcon seems like an obvious choice for this year, but I decided to go in a different direction – my choice for the year is Johnny Eager, starring Robert Taylor in the title role of an ex-con who uses the daughter (Lana Turner) of his nemesis to further his criminal exploits. Also in the cast is Van Heflin, who deservedly won an Academy Award for his portrayal of Eager’s loyal, alcoholic best friend. Special shout-out to Patricia Dane who turned in a touching performance as Eager’s discarded lover.

1942:

Interestingly, this year pits two Alan Ladd–Veronica Lake noirs against each other: This Gun for Hire and The Glass Key. (It’s also interesting that my favorite Ladd-Lake film is neither of these – it’s The Blue Dahlia! But I digress.) I’m going to go with This Gun for Hire, where Ladd stars as a psychologically damaged hitman named Raven and Lake is a nightclub singer who gets caught up in Raven’s vendetta against his employer (Laird Cregar). There are a lot of moving parts here, and some typical noir confusion, but it’s never boring.

1943:

A no-brainer for this year – it’s Alfred Hitchcock’s Shadow of a Doubt, which the famed director reportedly identified as his favorite film. Here, Teresa Wright is Charlotte “Charlie” Newton, a small-town girl whose bored existence is significantly altered when her uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotten) comes to visit. Unfortunately for young Charlie, her uncle is a sociopath and a murderer. You can’t choose your relatives.

1944:

Things are starting to heat up, folks. The year 1944 presented me with my first set of multiple contenders. Murder, My Sweet? Phantom Lady? Laura? A near-impossible choice, right? Not so fast. If you know me, you know what my favorite noir is and you know that I simply must pick Double Indemnity. Barbara Stanwyck is Phyllis Dietrichson, who teams with a too-smart-for-his-own-good insurance salesman (Fred MacMurray) to bump off Mr. Dietrichson and collect a big insurance payday. But you know what they say about the best laid plans.

1945:

Another year, another personal favorite. I hate to bypass Detour, The Great Flamarion, My Name Is Julia Ross, and Scarlet Street, but they haven’t got a chance up against Mildred Pierce. Next to Double Indemnity, this is the noir I’ve seen the most often, and the first time I saw it was on the big screen – it’s a sentimental favorite, y’all. Joan Crawford stars in the title role of a single mother whose life is forever altered by her determination to please her snooty older daughter (played to perfection by Ann Blyth).

1946:

I’m going out on a limb with this one, folks. Numerous first-rate noirs were released in 1946, including Gilda, The Killers, The Locket, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers, and the uber-confusing but undeniably entertaining The Big Sleep. But I’m going with Decoy. This obscure noir stars Jean Gillie as Margot Shelby, a cold-as-dry-ice dame who is mortally wounded at the film’s begin and tells us in flashback how she masterminded a farfetched criminal scheme that centered on reviving her recently executed convict boyfriend. (I kid you not.) Decoy isn’t on YouTube and I’ve never seen it on cable, but it is available on DVD – I strongly recommend that you check it out. I promise that you won’t be sorry.

1947:

And now we come to 1947, the year that saw the release of oh-so-many noir gems – Out of the Past, The Devil Thumbs a Ride, Born to Kill, They Won’t Believe Me, Nightmare Alley, Body and Soul… the sheer number of outstanding noirs that came out this year is absolutely mind-blowing. I sidestepped these, though, in favor of a film that’s always on my best-of lists – Nora Prentiss. This feature boasts a unique storyline, a perfect noir ending, and top-notch performances from Ann Sheridan as a nightclub singer and Kent Taylor as the very-married doctor who ruins his life – literally – when he falls for her.

1948:

I thought that I’d have a harder time with this year, but as soon as I spied They Live By Night, I knew what my pick would be. This film stars Farley Granger and Cathy O’Donnell as perfectly cast star-crossed lovers whose quest for a normal life is continuously thwarted by the realities of the criminal milieu in which they exist. Memorable support is provided by noir vets Jay C. Flippen, Will Wright, and Howard DaSilva (whose one-eyed ex-con is one of noir’s creepiest).

1949:

Wow, this was the hardest year yet, with three superb films vying for my pick: Too Late for Tears, The Set-Up, and Criss Cross. What a quandary! After much consideration, I finally went with Criss Cross, which I consider to be one of noir’s purest. Burt Lancaster is Steve Thompson, who returns to his hometown only to find himself drawn into a web of passion, deception, and murder involving his ex-wife (Yvonne DeCarlo) and her new husband, local mobster Slim Dundee (Dan Duryea). For my money, everything about this film is perfect, from the casting to the plot, and from the first scene to the last. If you’ve never seen this one, do yourself a favor and bump it up to the top of your must-see list. You won’t be sorry.

What are your favorite noirs from 1940 to 1949? Leave a comment and let me know – and join me next month for Part II of Best Noir of the Year!

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– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub

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