Spring Trivia – Joan Bennett, Robert Mitchum, Ann Blyth, Robert Ryan, Jean Hagen, and Richard Widmark
There aren’t
many things I love in life more than classic movie trivia. In celebration of
spring, this month’s Noir Nook is serving up some trivial tidbits on some of my
favorite noir actors and actresses and some of their iconic noir films. Enjoy!
Joan Bennett
Joan Bennett’s first noir was The Woman in the Window (1945), starring Edward G. Robinson and Dan Duryea, and directed by Fritz Lang. The film was a critical and box-office success, and afterward, Bennett, her husband, producer Walter Wanger, and Lang formed an independent film company, called Diana Productions after Bennett’s oldest daughter. The first film produced under the Diana Productions banner was Bennett’s second film noir, Scarlet Street (1945). Like The Woman in the Window, this film also starred Robinson and Duryea, and was helmed by Lang.
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Robert Mitchum
In 1947, Robert Mitchum appeared in two films noirs – the first of these was The Locket, where he played an artist who is tormented by an unspeakable crime committed by the woman he loved. The actor earned wildly contrasting notices from critics. The reviewer for the Los Angeles Daily News was impressed by his performance, writing that he “makes the cynical, sarcastic painter a character of some force.” The typically acerbic Bosley Crowther disagreed in The New York Times, however, insisting that Mitchum gave a “completely monotonous and inexpressive performance. There is not the slightest hint about this rigid face of the temperament of an artist, even granting that the fellow he is representing is a moody sort.”
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Ann Blyth
For her role as the venomous Veda in Mildred Pierce (1945), Ann Blyth was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress, making her, at age 17, the youngest actress up to that time to be honored. Blyth was expected to win, but the Oscar was awarded instead to Anne Revere for her performance as Elizabeth Taylor’s mother in National Velvet. Years later, Revere herself said that she was surprised to have won the Academy Award over Blyth: “My winning was such an upset, some of the papers the next day were still dazed and wrote things like: ‘Anne Revere, who played the troublesome teenager in Mildred Pierce, won the Best Supporting Actress Academy Award last night.’”
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Robert Ryan
Robert Ryan starred in 1949 in one of noir’s best offerings, The Set-Up, where he played an aging boxer who was, according to one description, “one punch away from being punch-drunk.” Ryan didn’t have to do much acting during the boxing sequences. When he was eight years old, his father arranged for him to take boxing lessons, and years later, at Dartmouth College, he became the first freshman to win the college’s heavyweight boxing championship, a title he held throughout his four years of intercollegiate competition.
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Jean Hagen
Jean Hagen is perhaps best remembered for two roles she played during her career: Doll Conovan in The Asphalt Jungle (1950) and Lina Lamont in Singin’ in the Rain (1952). In the former, she was outstanding as the would-be girlfriend of a low-level hood, infusing her portrayal with steely determination, sensitivity, and pathos. After the film’s release, director John Huston said that he cast Hagen in the role because “she has a wistful, down-to-earth quality rare on the screen. A born actress.” However, most critics failed to take notice of Hagen’s first-rate performance, overlooking her in favor of the flashier role played by Marilyn Monroe. In later years, Hagen would quip, “There were only two girl roles, and I obviously wasn’t Marilyn Monroe.”
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Richard Widmark
In his big screen debut, Richard Widmark was featured in Kiss of Death, which starred Victor Mature and Coleen Gray. Widmark played the supporting role of Tommy Udo, a psychopath with a menacing, high-pitched giggle. For his notable performance, Widmark won the Golden Globe Award for Most Promising Newcomer and was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor (he lost to Edmund Gwenn in Miracle on 34th Street). “I thought, ‘Geez, this is easy.’” Widmark later said of the numerous accolades he received for his first film. “I haven’t come close since.”
Stay tuned to the Noir Nook for more trivia in future months!
…
– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub
Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages. If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here:
Silver Screen Standards: The Most Dangerous Game (1932)
The Most Dangerous Game (1932) has a lot in common with King Kong(1933): the same sets, the same producers, one of the same directors, and some of the same cast, but it’s a tighter, low-budget production without the supersized special effects. The great ape movie is the more famous of the two, but this tense jungle thriller is also a true classic; it’s short, lurid, and energetic, a wild ride through the jungle that takes just over an hour to enjoy. The film and its source material, a 1924 short story of the same title by Richard Connell, have inspired quite a few other “hunting people for sport” movies, including an upcoming 2022 adaptation, but it’s hard to beat this Pre-Code version from directors Irving Pichel and Ernest B. Schoedsack, especially with stars like Joel McCrea and Fay Wray as the elusive prey.
The action begins when big game hunter Bob Rainsford (Joel McCrea) barely survives the wreck of a yacht on which he has been traveling with a group of well-heeled gentlemen; everyone else goes down with the ship or gets eaten by sharks. Bob makes it to the shore of a nearby island and there becomes a guest of the elegant but intense Count Zaroff (Leslie Banks), a fellow big game hunter who rejoices at Bob’s arrival. Zaroff has two other guests, the perpetually inebriated Martin Trowbridge (Robert Armstrong) and his sister, Eve (Fay Wray), the survivors of a previous shipwreck. Eve tries to warn Bob that their host is not what he seems, and Bob soon learns that Zaroff has given up hunting animals and now lures ships to wreck near his island so that he can hunt human beings instead. Bob and Eve are forced to run while Zaroff pursues them around the island with the help of his brutal lackeys (Noble Johnson and Steve Clemente) and bloodthirsty dogs, but this time Zaroff has chosen a victim who knows how to fight back.
While the story could be filmed as an action adventure or
thriller, this adaptation leans into the horror and the opportunity to pack the
picture with plenty of Pre-Code sex and chills. Fay Wray’s particular peril as
the lone Eve in this lethal garden is obvious; the Count and his henchmen leer
at her constantly, and the Count repeatedly suggests that his lust will be
aroused by his next successful hunt. It’s little wonder that Eve chooses to
head into the jungle with Bob rather than stay behind in the fortress, and she
keeps up remarkably well considering her completely impractical attire. Of
course, Eve and Bob have less attire as the hunt progresses, with Eve’s gown in
tatters after a few hours running through the jungle. The Count has declared
that he has no intention of killing her, as female prey are off limits to
hunters, but his trophy room is gruesome enough as it is, with severed heads from
his previous victims on display. The trophy room scenes were originally more extensive
and grotesque, but it turned out that even Pre-Code horror had its limits, and
shots of Zaroff explaining the tableaux of his preserved human trophies ended
up being cut.
The small cast gives the leads enough opportunity to deliver great performances in spite of the short run time, with Leslie Banks absolutely riveting as Count Zaroff. Although the scarred villain has long been a problematic trope, Banks brings an unusual level of realism to the role as a result of a World War I injury that damaged one side of his face. His performance launched the English stage actor into a second career in British films, including roles in The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934), Jamaica Inn (1939), and Henry V(1944). Joel McCrea, tall, muscular, and very American, makes a perfect foil to Banks’ lean Continental Count; his character is not naturally introspective, as we learn in the opening scene, but his narrative arc provides a crash course that disabuses him of his notion that prey enjoy the hunt just as much as the predator. Wray, while the object of all those heated stares from menacing males, still gets to play a sharp observer who brings more than screams to the story, while her King Kong costar Robert Armstrong is perfectly irritating as the drunken brother. The two actors playing Zaroff’s henchmen also deserve attention; both Noble Johnson and Steve Clemente appear in King Kong as native characters but play Russians here. In reality, Johnson was African-American and Clemente Mexican-American, and both of them had long careers that started in the silent era, often in uncredited roles. Neither has any lines in The Most Dangerous Game, but as silent film veterans they don’t need any in order to convey their characters’ dangerous natures.
Lives Behind the Legends: Greta Garbo – Social Butterfly
Greta Garbo’s most famous quote is undoubtedly ‘I want to be alone.’ But it wasn’t Garbo who said this, it was her character in Grand Hotel who uttered those famous words. Garbo herself made a more nuanced statement: ‘I never said, “I want to be alone.” I only said, “I want to be left alone.” There is all the difference..’ Because despite her hermit-like image, she was no recluse. Away from the public eye, Garbo had a secretive but lively social life. The elusive star combined two opposite sides of the spectrum into one mysterious personality: a homebody who loved routine and a social butterfly about town.
Though she is seen as
an enigma by many, plenty can be learned about Garbo’s personality throughout
her life. As a child in Sweden, Garbo’s childhood was spent in bleak poverty.
She later remembered being ‘sad’ as a child. Though she was shy and already had
a penchant for spending time alone, she was never without friends. Garbo had a
lively imagination and had already decided that she wanted to be an actress.
She would stage little shows telling her friends and even her two older
siblings exactly how to perform. She later admitted that even though she was
the youngest sibling, she had always felt and behaved as the eldest. So it
comes as no surprise that her childhood friends would later describe her as
‘bossy’. But she was also said to be ‘loads of fun’ and ‘always ready for
mischief’. Garbo, as she referred to be called in her adult life, would stay in
touch with some of them even as she was heading towards old age. But one
pattern had already emerged: she had no problem cutting friends off. As a
14-year old she wrote to a friend, that she did not like her trying to hang out
with Garbo’s other girlfriends. Ending the letter with: ‘If this letter offends
you, you don’t need to write to me again.’ Her friendships were always on her
terms.
After her father died when she was 14, Garbo had to work to help support her family. She became a soap girl at a barbershop. As always, she was shy at first. But when comfortable, she was fun, with a sharp sense of humor. Some customers enjoyed her company so much, they asked for her specifically. Once she was accepted into the Royal Dramatic Training Academy, she was finally surrounded by like-minded people. She could talk for hours about acting and have fun with a new group of friends. Still, she was keenly aware that she was one of the poorest students, struggling to make ends meet. Maybe that’s why, as another student later commented, Garbo could be lost in her own world. Making everybody wonder if they truly knew her.
When director Mauritz
Stiller discovered Garbo, their bond became intense. Though it reportedly
remained platonic, he was the only one who could ever boss her around. She
trusted his direction completely and he became her mentor.
So you can imagine their joy when they were both offered a contract by American studio MGM. She was nervous about leaving her family and home behind but knew that this was an amazing opportunity.
In America, she was incredibly lonely. Garbo could not speak English yet and Stiller was occupied with impressing MGM. Meanwhile, her studio gave her the usual star treatment: her hairline and teeth were straightened, eyebrows plucked and she had to lose 33lbs. Garbo also had to pose for the required starlet photos, something she would refuse as soon as she became a star. That did not take long as her first American feature Torrent catapulted her to stardom.
She co-starred with John Gilbert in her third American film The Flesh and the Devil and the two began dating. He encouraged her to join him at social events and her world opened up more. Though he even proposed to Garbo, she later said she was only with him because she was lonely and didn’t speak English. Adding, with her usual cynical sense of humor: ‘Well, at least he was pretty.’ After Gilbert, Garbo dated but steadfastly refused to get serious with anybody. ‘”Wife” is such an ugly word,’ she later quipped.
The centre of her social life in those days was Salka Viertel. The Jewish Polish screenwriter and her husband had an unofficial salon for European artists at their home. Here, Garbo socialized with people like composer Igor Stravinsky, director Max Reinhardt and actors like Charlie Chaplin and Johnny Weissmuller.
Although her social life had progressed, she still struggled in Hollywood. In letters to her friend Mimi Pollak in Sweden she described her life as: getting up early to go to set, work 12 hours and then be too exhausted to do anything else. ‘Like a machine,’ she wrote. Her sadness, loneliness and frustration are tangible in the letters she sent during her Hollywood years. When her beloved sister Alva passed away, the studio wouldn’t allow her to go back to Sweden to attend the funeral. This no doubt added to her resentment towards Hollywood.
Fame proved to be overwhelming for Garbo and she soon refused to do interviews or answer fan mail. The studio decided to capitalize on this and promoted her as a mysterious European beauty, only adding to her popularity. She was devastated when Stiller, who never made the impression on Hollywood he had hoped, moved back to Sweden and died only a few years later. Restless, she took up long night walks with a hat pulled low over head, so as not to be recognized. Long walks would be her main form of relaxation for the rest of her life.
Garbo never liked the ‘vamp’ roles the studio cast her in. ‘I cannot see any sense in dressing up and doing nothing but tempting men.’ Though she admitted to friends that she didn’t care enough to fight for better roles either. ‘I have sold myself and have to remain here,’ she wrote in another letter to Mimi Pollak.
Garbo was never truly happy with her work. ‘Oh, if once, if only I could see a preview and come home feeling satisfied,’ she remarked. Her frustration with Hollywood reached its apex in 1942. After the release of The Two Faced Woman, Garbo left Hollywood for good. People were shocked: she was only 35 and still at the height of her fame. Garbo later explained: ‘I was tired of Hollywood. I did not like my work. There were many days when I had to force myself to go to the studio. I really wanted to live another life.’
At the time of her retirement, World War II was in full swing and Garbo worried about her homeland. Salka Viertel and her European salon were of great comfort. She was introduced to millionaire George Schlee. Though he was married, he would be Garbo’s frequent companion until his death in 1964. He even bought a house in the south of France where she spent so much time, locals still refer to it as ‘Garbo’s house’.
In the early 1950’s, Greta made some major life decisions. She became a naturalized U.S. citizen and bought an apartment in New York. She would call this apartment home for the rest of her life. Though Sweden would remain close to her heart, her closest relatives now lived in the U.S. as well: her brother Sven, his wife and daughter had also settled down here.
There were rumors that Greta had become a recluse, which probably stems from Garbo’s intense dislike of her own fame. Therapist Eric Drimmer, who had treated her for six months, wrote that celebrity was the true cause of her anxiety. He compared her response to gathering crowds and fans asking autographs to ‘if a normal human being is suddenly faced with a dangerous wild animal.’ Although she had quit acting, her fame would never diminish. Crowds still gathered once she was recognized, some fans went ‘Garbo watching’ in the hopes of getting a picture of her on one of her walks and she had a stalker for twenty years. So Garbo did everything she could to keep a low profile. She dressed casually and avoided crowded places. Thankfully, there were little tricks she knew. For instance, she always insisted on getting the worst table near the kitchen door at a fancy restaurant, so nobody would realize a celebrity was dining there. She chose her friends carefully and demanded that they respected her need for privacy.
She was close to photographer Cecil Beaton, art dealer Sam Green and poet Mercedes de Acosta. The latter is rumored to have been so obsessed with her, Garbo ended the friendship in the 1960’s. Aside from the ‘creative crowd’, she hung out with famous jet setters like Aristotle Onassis and Cecile de Rothschild. These were the kind of people who knew how to handle a friend who had such fame and success. But if they did not adhere to the rules and boundaries she set within these friendships, she still had no problem cutting people off.
Though she didn’t work anymore, she had many hobbies. Garbo collected art and loved interior design. She had made sound investments over the years, allowing her to spend her money freely. She often browsed antique stores, went to auctions and even designed a rug for her apartment. She enjoyed playing tennis and swimming, remaining fit well into old age. Her appreciation for acting and storytelling never left: she was an avid theatre-goer. Travelling was a big part of her life as well. She developed a steady routine: in early June she would leave for Europe, accompanied by people like George Schlee or Cecile de Rothschild, returning early September. In fall/winter she took trips to California to visit old friends. In between trips she stayed in her beloved apartment in New York, which took up the entire fifth floor of the building. She enjoyed days to herself, in which she also stuck to somewhat of a routine: getting up early for yoga or meditation, eating toast for breakfast in front of the television, calling friends, shopping for fruits and vegetables, going for a long afternoon walk and eating dinner on a tray in front of the bedroom television. Here, her companion was Claire Koger, her loyal housekeeper for thirty years. Even when Claire couldn’t clean anymore because of arthritis, Garbo kept her on. Claire would remain her companion at home, until Garbo’s death.
Despite her need for alone time, her social life remained active. Still, the press would always refer to her as a reclusive classic Hollywood star. Her great-nephew Derek revealed: ‘If you look at her date books, she’s out and about, meeting people, going to dinner, going to people’s homes for the weekend. She was private, but for a recluse, she had a very active social life. I forget who said it, but somebody called her “the hermit about town”.’ In the 1960’s, Garbo’s beloved brother Sven passed away and she grew even closer to his wife and her niece Gray. Once Gray grew up, she became the most important person in Garbo’s life. The two went to Jamaica together every spring, Gray and her family visited Garbo weekly and they all spent the holidays together. Gray’s son Derek remembers Garbo teaching him and his siblings how to do cartwheels, giving them funny gifts and playing practical jokes on them. When he graduated, he moved to New York and lived five blocks away from her. He saw her frequently: ‘Family and friends would all assemble at 5 for cocktails at her apartment and then go out to dinner or a play or whatever we were doing. That was a weekly event.’ He describes her as ‘extremely funny’.
‘Fun’ and ‘funny’ are adjectives friends and family described her with all of her life. And yet the public perception of her is so vastly different. It is true that Garbo suffered from depressive episodes throughout her life, but as with anyone, this does not define her. In her memoirs, Mercedes de Acosta writes that Garbo ‘will always be Nordic with all its sober and introvert characteristics.’ But she rejects the notion that Garbo is morose or serious, writing : ‘she is serious when there is something to be serious about.’ Adding that Garbo could have her ‘literally rolling on the floor with her sense of comedy.’ Garbo’s great-nephew Derek, who is part of her estate, admitted that there is ‘more myth than reality’ around Garbo.
Hollywood likes to define people. Garbo was defined by words such as ‘mysterious’, ‘serious’ and ‘introverted’. But people are three-dimensional beings. Garbo was all of those things, but she could also be described as ‘funny’, ‘social’ and ‘adventurous’. It’s a testament to Garbo’s ability to keep her personal life private that people still buy into Hollywood’s definition of her. Her image as a recluse does not jive with someone who traveled extensively, had a lot of friends and acquaintances and enjoyed spending time with her family. Maybe we should retire the image of Garbo saying ‘I want to be let alone’ in Grand Hotel and replace it with an image of her teaching her grand niece and nephew cartwheels on the grass.
Arancha has been fascinated with Classic Hollywood and its stars for years. Her main area of expertise is the behind-the-scenes stories, though she’s pretty sure she could beat you at movie trivia night too. Her website, Classic Hollywood Central, is about everything Classic Hollywood, from actors’ life stories and movie facts to Classic Hollywood myths. You can follow her on Twitter at @ClassicHC.
What’s Streaming on Best Classics Ever in May 2022 John Wayne, Moms Love Mystery, and More!
May is a big month for movies, as our friends at Best Classics Ever are debuting three all-new collections just in time for Memorial Day, Mother’s Day, and John Wayne’s birthday.
Are
you a fan of classic war films? This month’s Memorial Day Collection features classics starring
James Cagney (Blood on the Sun), Ingrid Bergman (Arch of
Triumph), and Van Johnson (Go for Broke!), plus the Best
Classics Ever debut of The Big Lift, Three Came Home,
Battle of Blood Island, The Steel Claw, Iron
Angel, Hell In Normandy, and Wake Me When the War
Is Over.
Fans
can also celebrate Mother’s Day all month long with the Moms Love Mystery collection
featuring classic whodunits and noir thrillers such as The Lady Confessesstarring Mary Beth Hughes and Hugh Beaumont, and Nancy Drew… Reporter,
the second Warner Bros. feature film starring Bonita Granville as the iconic
sleuth.
On
May 26, film fans will celebrate the birthday of the legendary John Wayne – born in 1907 in Winterset, Iowa. Best Classics Ever is
paying tribute with its first Wayne collection: For the Love of The Duke,
featuring eight Wayne westerns from the 1930s and 40s, plus his rare comedic
appearance opposite Evalyn Knapp in 1933’s His Private
Secretary.
There’s more mystery on the way this month, as
Classic Movie Hub celebrates with a trio of FREE Mysterious May features:
A Shriek In the Night,
And Then There Were None, and Cheating Blondes. Also, John Wayne’s not the only one
celebrating a birthday in May. Classic Movie Hub invites you to stream more May
Birthdays with James Mason and David O’Selznick (A Star is
Born), Fred Astaire (Royal Wedding), Mary Astor (The
Kennel Murder Case), and John Payne (Kansas City Confidential).
Here’s
the list of everything happening at Best Classics Ever in May:
Memorial
Day Collection
Blood on the Sun (1945) The Last Time I Saw Paris (1954) Arch of Triumph (1948) Stage Door Canteen (1943) Three Came Home (1950) The Big Lift (1950) Go For Broke! (1951) Battle of Blood Island (1960) The Steel Claw (1961) Iron Angel (1964) Hell In Normandy (1968) Wake Me When the War Is Over (1969) Black Brigade (1970)
Moms
Love Mystery Collection
Nancy Drew, Reporter (1939) Blonde Ice (1948) Lady Gangster (1942) The Lady Confesses (1945) Hold That Woman! (1940) Big Town After Dark (1947)
For the Love of The Duke: The John Wayne Collection
His Private Secretary (1933) The Dawn Rider (1935) West of the Divide (1934) The Trail Beyond (1934) The Desert Trail (1935) Rainbow Valley (1935) The Star Packer (1934) The Lawless Frontier (1934) Angel and the Badman (1947)
Classic
Movie Hub Presents… Mysterious May
A Shriek In the Night (1933) And Then There Were None (1945) Cheating Blondes (1933)
Classic
Movie Hub Presents… May Birthdays
A Star Is Born (1937) Kansas City Confidential (1952) The Kennel Murder Case (1933) Royal Wedding (1951)
About Best Classics Ever:Obsessed with classic cinema? So are we! At Best Classics Ever, you can stream an epic library of beloved films and television shows, including rare gems waiting to be rediscovered, from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Even better, Best Classics Ever is a community for film fans to learn more about their favorite movies and stars. Watch exclusive interviews and insight from today’s top cinema historians, hosts, and writers FREE without a subscription at our Hollywood Canteen. Best Classics Ever is available for mobile and desktop and on Roku, Amazon Fire TV, iOS, and Android devices.
Actress and dancer Virginia Dale was born Virginia Paxton in Charlotte, North Carolina, on July 1, 1917. Her parents were mechanic Joel Paxton and Lula Helms Paxton. Dale was one of six children: Jay, Frances, Frieda, Joey, and an unnamed infant. Tragically, the infant and Frieda did not survive to adulthood.
As a child, Dale attended schools in the Charlotte area. She later worked with her sister, Frances, to develop a dance act called The Paxton Sisters, leading her to appear in Broadway shows such as Him and The Final Balance. The duo was discovered by Darryl F. Zanuck at a New York nightclub and signed a contract with 20th Century Fox, where Dale took on the stage name of Virginia Dale.
In the 1950s, she transitioned to television, appearing in shows such as The Adventure Patrol and The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp. Dale appeared in Love That Brute (1950) and Danger Zone (1951) in the 1950s before culminating her on-screen work with the television miniseries Nutcracker: Money, Madness & Murder.
Dale passed away from emphysema on October 3, 1994, at 77
years old. She was buried at Forest Lawn Memorial Park—Hollywood Hills in Los
Angeles, California.
Today, there are very few locations in connection to Dale’s
life that exist, though some have been razed over time. Her 1920 home at 24 S.
Cecil St., Charlotte, North Carolina, no longer stands, as is the case for her
family’s 1930 home at 1103 E. 9th St., Charlotte, North Carolina.
By 1935, she was living with her sister, Frances at the
Hotel Edison, which stands today at 228 W. 47th St., New York, New
York.
Her 1948 home at 3231 Hyperion Ave., Los Angeles,
California, no longer remains.
Forest Lawn Memorial Park—Hollywood Hills is located at 6300
Forest Lawn Dr., Los Angeles, California.
While there aren’t many locations to visit in her memory, several of her films are commercially available to enjoy today.
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.
A frequently seen theme in the Western film
genre is a disparate band of travelers banding together against a common foe,
most often Indians.
One of the most famous Westerns featuring this theme is John Ford‘s Stagecoach (1939). Two lesser-known but solid examples which have been featured here in previous posts are Dragoon Wells Massacre (1957), which I wrote about here in November 2020, and Escort West (1958), which I discussed in May 2021.
This month we’ll look at another film with this storyline, Ambush at Cimarron Pass (1958). Ambush at Cimarron Pass was a Regal Film distributed by 20th Century-Fox. It stars Scott Brady, Margia Dean, and Clint Eastwood, who had started his film career in small roles just three years previously.
It’s nice to note that
two of the film’s cast members, Eastwood and Dean, are still with us today.
Eastwood will be 92 in May 2022, and I was inspired to watch this film thanks
to the recent 100th birthday of the film’s leading lady, Margia Dean. Dean was
born April 7, 1922.
Another cast member, Ray
Boyle, just passed away very recently, in January 2022. Boyle, who plays Johnny
Willows, was 98.
Ambush at Cimarron Pass takes place shortly after the end of the
Civil War. Brady stars as Sergeant Matt Blake, who’s leading a small band of
cavalry soldiers through Apache territory. Their mission is to deliver a
shipment of guns to a fort a few days away, along with Corbin (Baynes Barron),
who has been arrested for his plans to sell the guns to Indians.
Along the way Blake and
his men are waylaid by a group of men led by former Southern officer Captain
Sam Prescott (Frank Gerstle). Prescott and his men, including Keith Williams
(Eastwood), are Southerners who resent the Yankee cavalry soldiers, but they
all have a much bigger problem dealing with Apache Indians. The two groups
agree to work together to get to the safety of the fort.
The Apaches soon show up
in the area with a woman they’ve kidnapped, Teresa (Dean), and use her as a
distraction to steal the group’s horses. The men find themselves having to walk
to the fort along with Teresa, their only protection being the rifles that the
Indians still want. It’s a true Catch-22: The rifles are a means to keep the
group alive, but the guns also attract the Indians who are determined to
acquire them.
One by one several of
the men in the group are picked off by the Indians or die for other reasons,
ultimately leaving about half of the men and the one woman attempting to make
the last, most dangerous treacherous leg of the journey to the fort.
Ambush at Cimarron Pass is admittedly a rather middling movie; it’s
not particularly distinguished but it moves quickly, with a short 73-minute
running time, and I enjoyed watching it. It’s always interesting to me to see
what fresh spins filmmakers put on a tried-and-true story.
In addition to enjoying the familiar storyline, I particularly appreciated that the movie was filmed extensively at Iverson Movie Ranch, which I wrote about in my column last month. Much of the movie was shot outdoors in territory which has become quite familiar to me, and it was fun to watch the backgrounds closely and recognize places I’ve been.
Unfortunately some very
noticeable soundstage interiors are intercut with the outdoor filming, but that
was par for the course in the era. Happily most of the film was shot outside,
which gives the film a more authentic feel.
Brady, the younger brother of actor Lawrence Tierney, was a veteran of many Westerns, including some of my personal favorites such as The Gal Who Took the West (1949), Johnny Guitar (1954), and The Storm Rider (1957). He’s solid as the commanding Sergeant Blake, a natural leader who risks himself first, whether it’s going in alone to meet with Captain Prescott’s group or handing over his canteen to Williams.
Without a great deal of
running time to work with, Eastwood sketches a character who begins with such
deep resentment of Yankees that he would have killed Blake if not interrupted.
Gradually he comes to realize that Captain Prescott’s wisdom is correct: They
must measure the man, not the uniform. When Sergeant Blake gives Williams his
canteen and tells him to hang on to it, he looks at Blake in a new way.
Dean’s character begins
as a traumatized woman who initially shows courage, managing to warn the men of
the Indians’ plans to steal the horses, but sadly it comes too late. Once
physically recovered from her ordeal, she quickly flips to being something of a
flirt, seemingly looking for a protector among the men.
When Williams asks
Teresa if she wants to go to Texas with him but doesn’t propose marriage, she
instead makes a move on Blake, clearly viewing him as a more dependable man.
And if his reaction to her kiss is any indication, she might have success in
landing him.
Dean was a former Miss California who played many bit parts in Lippert Productions, while Westerns such as this one gave her some of her biggest and best roles. Some years ago Dean shared career memories with Mike Fitzgerald for the Western Clippings site. In that interview she said, “I thought, at the time, Clint would be a star, but I never dreamed he’d become the superstar he is today.“
Dean didn’t care for her
leading man, Brady, and said they had a feud, but rather intriguingly she
shared fond memories of his brother Lawrence Tierney. Tierney was known in
Hollywood as a “tough guy” who could be on the scary side offscreen,
but she remembered him as “a very nice guy.”
In the supporting cast I particularly liked Gerstle as the Southern captain with a good head on his shoulders. The cast also includes Irving Bacon, William Vaughn, Ken Mayer, Keith Richards, John Damler, John Frederick, and Desmond Slattery.
The film was directed by Jodie Copelan, whose film career started with The Guilty (1947), a solid “B” suspense film starring Don Castle and Bonita Granville (as identical twins!). Copelan went back and forth from films to television, with his TV work including many episodes of The Gene Autry Show and The F.B.I.
Ambush at Cimarron Pass was written by Richard G. Taylor and John
K. Butler, based on a story by Robert A. Reeds and Robert W. Woods. It was
filmed in black and white Regalscope by John N. Nickolaus Jr.
I found Ambush
at Cimarron Pass a relatively minor yet enjoyable Western which was
worth a look. Eastwood fans will particularly want to check it out for insight
into the early stages of his career.
Ambush at Cimarron Pass is available on DVD and Blu-ray from Olive Films.
…
– 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.
“I never wanted the world. Just room enough for the two of us.”
Mike Hammer has a strange cinematic history, especially when compared to other classic detectives. He toiled in B-movie adaptations while P.I. ‘s like Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe were given the A-list treatment. Kiss Me Deadly (1955) is the lone Hammer film that’s considered a masterpiece, but even then, the treatment of the Hammer character and the plot as a whole was radically altered from the novel.
The writer behind Hammer, Mickey Spillane, hated Kiss Me Deadly, and would later try to nullify the film’s impact by starring in his own vehicle, The Girl Hunters (1963). It was a decent translation, but in his later years, Spillane himself admitted that it was lacking in style. In truth, the only film adaptation he spoke highly of was the first one: I, the Jury (1953). Overshadowed by the legacy of the aforementioned films, I, the Jury remains the most authentic Hammer experience ever put on the big screen.
The authenticity of the film can be traced to its creators. Victor Saville was a producer who saw a cash cow in Spillane’s paperbacks, and felt their blending of sex and violence would be undeniable if properly adapted. Harry Essex was a screenwriter who helped mold the terrain of 1950s film noir, and knew exactly how to pull excitement from predictable story beats. He was also keen on directing, and saw I, the Jury as a chance to showcase his talents.
As someone who was underwhelmed by the film on first viewing (Kiss Me Deadly was my only reference point at the time), I can now say that I, the Jury is the perfect entry into Hammer’s world. It goes to such great lengths to emulate the style of the novel that the character’s narration comes off as though he’s reading the actual pages. Essex proved himself to be an economical storyteller with the screenplays for Kansas City Confidential and The Las Vegas Story (both 1952), but here, he arranges scenes with a surgeon-like precision. It’s as though being forced to pare down the sex and violence found in the novel allowed Essex to expediate an already lean narrative, and the result is a breakneck 87 minutes.
The story is really just a premise: Hammer (Biff Elliot) discovers that his old army buddy Jack Williams (Robert Swagner) was killed under mysterious circumstances in his apartment. The bull then proceeds to wreck the china shop that is New York as he tries to locate Williams’ killer and make them pay. Along the way, Hammer runs afoul of a cunning therapist (Peggie Castle) and a crackpot crime boss named Kalecki (Alan Reed).
Elliot was not a versatile actor, as evidenced by his relatively quiet career, but he’s effectively cast here. He does a fine job of capturing Hammer’s blunt-force approach to detection, and his ability to seem at once dense and thoughtful is trickier than it may initially seem. It’s nothing remarkable, especially when compared with the heightened vanity that Ralph Meeker brought to the part in Kiss Me, Deadly, but it’s direct and visceral. Elliot’s choices look even better when compared to the softer, less edgy performances given by Robert Bray in My Gun Is Quick (1957) and Darren McGavin in the TV series Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer (1957-59).
The supporting cast are made up of reliable character actors, starting with the aforementioned Castle (the self-appointed “girl they loved to kill”) and running down to Preston Foster as Hammer’s steadfast police connection, Pat Chambers. They rattle off the curt Spillane dialogue with glee, while leaning into the two-dimensional aspects of their respective characters. Nobody does this better than Elisha Cook, Jr. as Bobo, a simpleton who manages to win us over despite having ties to a deadly gang. The shot of a slain Cook, dressed as Santa Claus, and laying on a stoop, is arguably the most noirish Christmas image of all time.
The stunning imagery doesn’t stop there. I, the Jury may benefit from taut direction and a colorful cast, but it’s the cinematography by John Alton that truly pushes it into cult classic territory. The film unveils one gorgeous sequence after another, whether it be the pulsing neon conversation in Hammer’s office or the single-light source interrogation conducted by Kalecki’s men. Then there’s the 3-D component, which Alton had to take into account during production. The film was originally made to capitalize on the 3-D craze of the 1950s, and the cinematographer’s deft handling of cigarette butts and various room structures gives the film a subtlety and cleverness that few 3-D releases could match. The fact that it works as both a 3-D and 2-D release is a testament to its overall quality.
Then there’s the ending. Hammer navigates his way through a twisted web of lies and murder, and finds himself at the apartment of his therapist squeeze. He figured out her involvement in Williams’ death, and he holds a gun on her from the moment she enters. She proceeds to undress, partially out of practicality and partially out of an attempt to seduce him. The dialogue grows increasingly intense, with the emotions of both characters bubbling closer to the surface. Alton’s camera fixes in on the couple during their final embrace, and then we hear, beneath the frame, the firing of a gun. It’s unclear who was shot, until the therapist drops to the floor. “How could you?” she asks, to which an unflinching Hammer states: “It was easy.”
It’s a breathtaking scene, manifesting all of the sex and death and that makes the Hammer novels so enticing. It’s the best ever distillation of the character and his detached worldview, and for Alton, one of his best ever visual showcases. It would justify the price of admission on its own.
I, the Jury should not be approached as a masterpiece. It’s a cheap film noir that sets out to entertain, and it does precisely that. If you approach the film on these very simple foundations, then you will be endlessly pleased.
Danilo Castro is a film noir aficionado and Contributing Writer for Classic Movie Hub. You can read more of Danilo’s articles and reviews at the Film Noir Archive, or you can follow Danilo on Twitter @DaniloSCastro.
Silents are Golden: A Closer Look At – The King of Kings (1927)
In the mid-1920s, after being known primarily for melodramas and light comedies with battle-of-the-sexes themes, famed director Cecil B. DeMille was starting to move in a more “epic” direction. Being interested in religious themes, ancient settings and of course spectacle, he combined all of the above in his first version of The Ten Commandments(1923), even working in a modern story as a framework. His second foray into the Bible would be an even more prestigious project: the most high-budget and detailed depiction of the life of Christ on film to date.
In a time when churches were a prominent part
of American life, it promised to be a highly-anticipated film. It would have to
be handled with the proper reverence and dignity, the New Testament stories
being so near and dear to countless people. DeMille was careful to do justice
to its pious subject, frequently consulting with clergymen, and also added bits
of warmth and humanity to the depiction of Jesus Christ that are still touching
today.
Opulent sets and cutting-edge technical
innovations, from lighting to camerawork, would also enhance the story,
including some scenes being filmed in Technicolor. Recent advancements made it
possible to get pure, colorized images without the usual graininess, which
served as effective emphasis for the Resurrection sequence. Many of the
intertitles would directly quote the Bible, with chapter and verse included,
lending authenticity to the production as well as reminding the audience how
faithful it was to the Bible.
For the exceptionally important starring role DeMille chose H.B. Warner, a dignified-looking actor best known today as Mr. Gower in It’s a Wonderful Life (1946). Warner, who was in his fifties at the time of The King of Kings(almost two decades older than the actress who played Jesus’ mother Mary!), had a background in Broadway and had acted in films since 1914. Unsurprisingly, the role of Jesus Christ would be the most famous of his silent career. The Virgin Mary would be played by Dorothy Cumming, who would later appear in Our Dancing Daughtersand The Wind(both 1928). Both Warner and Cumming were contractually obligated to only play wholesome characters for five years, so they wouldn’t detract from their roles as Jesus and Mary. Interestingly, they also had to be somewhat “method” and refrain from “un-Biblical” activities during the production, such as playing cards or driving cars.
Simon Peter would be played by character actor Ernest Torrence, most recognizable from Steamboat Bill Jr.(1928), and Austrian-born Joseph Schildkraut was chosen for the key role of Judas Iscariot, perhaps his most prominent role since D.W. Griffith’s Orphans of the Storm(1922). And these are just a few of the key players in the enormous cast which, if we count extras, numbered in the thousands.
More than a few scenes in The King of Kings are inspired, such as the first shot of Jesus
Christ being from the point of view of a blind child whose eyesight he
miraculously heals. Another memorable scene shows a little girl asking Jesus if
he heals broken legs. When he says yes, she gravely asks if he can heal her
legless doll. With a smile, he does.
Other plot choices can seem a little strange to anyone familiar with the Gospels. Mary Magdalene is traditionally considered to have reformed from a life of prostitution, but in The King of Kings (1927) she’s a powerful courtesan with lavish clothes and a chariot drawn by zebras. She’s romantically involved with Judas Iscariot to boot. Of course, these scenes also served to add the kind of “sin and spectacle” that feature in many DeMille films.
The King
of Kings was the first film to premiere at Sid
Grauman’s newly-built Grauman’s Chinese Theater on Hollywood Boulevard in Los
Angeles. The “Exotic Revival-style” building, which stands proudly to this day,
hosted the lavish premiere on May 18, 1927. All the big names of Hollywood
attended, making the premiere a major industry event. Shown in its original,
“road show” version, The King of Kings ran
about 155 minutes long. It would later be trimmed to 112 minutes for general
release.
The epic film was highly praised by critics, who admired the high quality of DeMille’s filmmaking and the reverential way he brought the tale of Christ to life. Audiences must’ve agreed, for The King of Kings was a big box office hit, helped by a strong marketing campaign where schools were encouraged to dismiss students early so they could see it. It’s thought to have grossed around $500 million in the late 1920s, making it one of the highest-grossing films of 1927 (only beat by Wingsand The Jazz Singer).
The history of The King of Kings has an interesting aftermath. The Temple of Jerusalem set, built on a backlot in Culver City, ended up in King Kong(1933) and then the David O. Selznick film The Garden of Allah(1936). Its last appearance was in Gone With the Wind(1939), where it served as some of the warehouses that were destroyed during the “burning of Atlanta” sequence.
Today, The King of Kings is no longer as well known as it used to be, but it survives in lovely quality and makes occasional appearances at silent film festivals. And of course, it has always been and will always be a perfect film to enjoy during the thoughtful season of Lent.
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.
His Girl Friday was adapted from the 1928 Broadway play, The Front Page, which, in turn, was adapted into the 1931 film The Front Page. All three versions revolve around the same storyline, more or less, with one key difference — reporter Hildy Johnson was a male character in The Front Page (Lee Tracy 1928, Pat O’Brien 1931), while Hildy is female in His Girl Friday. The recasting of Hildy as a woman adds a fun romantic spin, courtesy of Rosalind Russell as Hildy, Cary Grant as newspaper editor Walter Burns (and Hildy’s ex-husband), and poor Ralph Bellamy as Bruce Baldwin (Hildy’s fiancé). Need I say more?
Well, I just love waiting for the two big inside jokes during this film:
1) When Cary Grant (who was born Archibald Leach) says “Listen, the last man that said that to me was Archie Leach just a week before he cut his throat.” – and…
2) When Cary Grant says (about Bruce Baldwin played by Ralph Bellamy) “He looks like, uh, that fellow in the movies, you know, Ralph Bellamy.”
But, I just learned of a third (potential) inside joke, or perhaps coincidence(?):
3) When Cary Grant (who played the Mock Turtle in 1933’s Alice in Wonderland) says “Get back in there you Mock Turtle!”
…..
4) Do I hear wedding bells?
Although Cary Grant’s character was plotting to live ‘happily ever after’ with Rosalind Russell in His Girl Friday — in real life, Cary was actually setting the wheels in motion for Roz to meet her soul mate and lifetime love, Frederick Brisson. Roz and Freddie were married in 1941 and did live ‘happily ever after’. And Cary Grant was Best Man at their wedding. 🙂 You can read more about it here at rozrussell.com.
…..
5) I’ll say it again, poor Ralph Bellamy
Ralph Bellamy was also on the losing side of love in The Awful Truth (1937) — another screwball comedy in which ex-husband Cary Grant tries to win back ex-wife Irene Dunne, outmaneuvering poor Ralph Bellamy yet again :). By the way, The Awful Truth was also based on a play (The Awful Truth 1922) and was also a remake of an earlier film (The Awful Truth 1929).
…..
Well, those were my five facts, but here are a few extra bonuses, for those so inclined 🙂
His Girl Friday was released nationally in the US on January 18, 1940, which also just so happened to be Cary Grant’s 36th birthday (born Jan 18 1904).
The film was inducted by The Library of Congress into the National Film Registry in 1993.
In addition to His Girl Friday, director Howard Hawks made two more films with both Cary Grant and screenwriter Charles Lederer, both also screwball comedies – I Was a Male War Bride (1949) and Monkey Business (1952). Hawks would also work with Cary Grant on two more films (Bringing Up Baby and Only Angels Have Wings), as well as with Lederer on two more films (Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and The Thing from Another World although Hawks is uncredited).
A few classic movie coincidences here:
Alice in Wonderland (1933) featured Cary Grant as The Mock Turtle and Roscoe Karns as Tweedledee.
Miracle on 34th Street (1947) featured Porter Hall as the nervous, ill-tempered store ‘psychologist’ and Gene Lockhart as honorable Judge Henry X. Harper.
Regis Toomey appeared in The Bishop’s Wife with Cary Grant, Man’s Favorite Sport with Roscoe Karns, You’re in the Army Now with Clarence Kolb, and They Died with Their Boots On as well as Meet John Doe with Gene Lockhart
AND – as part of our partnership with Best Classics Ever – you can stream His Girl Friday for free this month on the Classic Movie Hub Channel. Just click here, join for free (no obligation), scroll down and click on the CMH Channel button — and watch for free. Lots of other free movies to watch every month as well, so feel free to explore.
Earlier this year, I decided to take a look at my favorite
films noirs – a task that I periodically love to tackle because, depending on
the season, my mood, or even the time of day, my favorites are subject to
change. My January 2022 Noir Nook served up the first five of my current Top 10
list, which consisted of those films that generally wind up on any Top 10 noir
compilation I can come up with. This month, I’m wrapping up my Top 10 list with
five that might not make my list later this year, but they’re tops in my book
today!
Detour (1945)
Gritty, unapologetic, and made on the cheap, Detour gives you 68 minutes of pure, straight-no-chaser noir.
The story – told in flashback – centers on Al Roberts (Tom
Neal), a barely-making-it piano player who decides to hitchhike his way from
New York to Hollywood to join his singer girlfriend (Claudia Drake). Along the
way, Al catches a ride with a bookie who winds up dead, and he gets more than
he bargained for when he takes the dead man’s car, assumes his identity, and
picks up a hitchhiking dame named Vera. It’s Al’s bad luck that Vera knows that
he’s not who he says he is.
Vera is played by Ann Savage with a demeanor that matches
her name – she practically spits out her lines like they’re a personal affront
to her mouth. From her first words to Al, Vera lets him (and us) know that
she’s no fool; she not only calls him out on his lies, but by sheer force of
will – and a little extortion – she ropes him into a scheme that’s designed to
lead to a big payday but ends up badly for all concerned.
Favorite quote: “I’m not gettin’ sore. But just remember who’s boss around here. If you shut up and don’t give me any arguments, you’ll have nothing to worry about. But if you act wise – well, mister, you’ll pop into jail so fast it’ll give you the bends!” – Vera (Ann Savage)
The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946)
Based on a novel by James M. Cain, The Postman Always Rings Twice tells the tale of a drifter, Frank Chambers (John Garfield), who teams with his married lover, Cora Smith (Lana Turner), to murder Cora’s husband. Postman was one of the first noirs I ever saw, many years before I knew what film noir was. When Lana Turner first appeared on the screen in her white shorts set, turban and high heels, I was hooked, and I’ve loved it ever since.
The film’s first-rate cast also includes Cecil Kellaway as Cora’s hapless husband; Leon Ames and Hume Cronyn as a pair of wily attorneys; and Audrey Totter, who played a small, but memorable role as a short skirt-wearing dame who catches Frank’s eye. Also on board was Alan Reed, as Hume Cronyn’s assistant-turned-blackmailer. (If you don’t know Reed’s name or face, you might recognize his voice – he was the man behind the growling tones of TV’s Fred Flintstone.)
Favorite quote: “Stealing a man’s wife, that’s nothing, but stealing a man’s car, that’s larceny.” – Frank Chambers (John Garfield)
Night and the City (1950)
When people talk about film noir features, I don’t hear a lot about Night and the City. And that’s a real shame. Because it is top-notch, irrefutable, pure noir, from start to finish. It stars Richard Widmark in one of his best performances, as Harry Fabian, a small-time conman who dines daily on dreams of grandeur. Harry imposes a never-ending stream of get-rich-quick schemes on his long-suffering girlfriend Mary (Gene Tierney), but he thinks he’s really hit the big time when he plans to take over the local wrestling racket. Unfortunately for Harry, local mob leader Kristo (Herbert Lom) has other ideas.
Although the film is justifiably viewed today as a stellar
example of the classic film noir era, critics were unimpressed upon the film’s
release. A typical opinion was offered by The New York Times’ Bosley
Crowther, who savaged the picture, calling it a “pointless, trashy yarn.”
Crowther went on to say that the screenplay was “without any real dramatic
virtue, reason or valid story-line . . . little more than a melange of maggoty
episodes.” (Geez, tell us how you really feel, Bosley!)
Favorite quote: “Harry, do you know what you’re doing? You’re killing me. You’re killing me and yourself.” – Mary Bristol (Gene Tierney)
The Asphalt Jungle (1950)
I dearly love a good heist movie, and The Asphalt Jungle is truly one of the best. It depicts a motley crew of crooks who come together to execute a jewel heist planned by career criminal “Doc” Riedenschneider (Sam Jaffe), who has recently been released from prison. The participants include Dix Handley (Sterling Hayden), a “hooligan” from Kentucky who’s hired to be the muscle of the endeavor; safecracking expert Louis Ciavelli (Anthony Caruso); Gus Minissi (James Whitmore), a hunchbacked diner owner who serves as the getaway driver; Alonzo Emmerich (Louis Calhern), a crooked attorney who’s retained to fence the stolen jewels; and small-time bookie Cobby (Marc Lawrence). The heist is pulled off without a hitch but, like the best-laid plans of mice and men, the scheme goes wildly awry.
The distaff side of the cast includes an early appearance by Marilyn Monroe, as Emmerich’s beautiful but childlike mistress, who calls him “Uncle Lon” and gleefully exclaims “Yipe!” to express her excitement.
Favorite quote: “Frankly, I don’t like the guy, but I never saw a hooligan I did like. They’re like left-handed pitchers. They all have a screw loose somewhere.” – Louis Ciavelli (Anthony Caruso)
The Big Heat (1953)
This is the one where a luckless dame gets a pot full of boiling coffee thrown in her face. I don’t know about you, but I knew about this vicious act long before I ever saw the film – and the movie lived up to every expectation generated by that scene. The Big Heat stars Glenn Ford as Dave Bannion, a straight-as-an-arrow detective and loving family man who goes on a vendetta when his wife (Jocelyn Brando) is killed by a car bomb meant for him. Bannion winds up not only battling the bad guys responsible for his wife’s death, but also his fellow officers of the law who are in cahoots with the mob.
Incidentally, the thrower of the aforementioned coffee was Vince Stone, played with spot-on menace by Lee Marvin, and the throwee (if you will) was Gloria Grahame who, for my money, stole every scene she was in as Debby Marsh, Vince’s irreverent, money-loving girlfriend.
Favorite quote: “The main thing is to have the money. I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor. Believe me, rich is better.” – Debby Marsh (Gloria Grahame)
What movies are in your top 10 films noirs? Leave a comment and let me know!
…
– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub
Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages. If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here: