How Many Films did James Cagney and Pat O’Brien Star in Together?
It’s a friendship that’s endured for 55 years.– Pat O’Brien, about his friendship with James Cagney
James Cagney and Pat O’Brien were friends for almost 60 years, working together in numerous films from 1934-1940, and reuniting one last time for their final film performances in 1981.
James Cagney and Pat O’Brien starred in NINE films together:
It could have been the colossal ants. Or the big locusts. Maybe the giant leeches. Most likely it was that house-sized tarantula. Iâll never really know the one film that started my obsession with big-bug movies (âbugâ being used loosely), but I know why it happened: I was introduced to them by my dad whose whose unapologetic enjoyment of these films I still carry today. (Giant rabbits? Where?)
Although they necessarily scary by todayâs standards, they are fascinating enough to get the imagination going while drawing out a few eewws along the way.
Giant bug movies were a hit as soon as they invaded the big screen in the early 1950s and itâs easy to see why in the context of the time. Fears of nuclear bombs and communism in post-war America were manifested in these attacking hordes of ants, locusts and pretty much any small creature you could blow up 100 times its size and have it destroy a a small town. (Invading aliens similarly mirrored fears at the time, but bugs are more fun.)
Interestingly, it was a dinosaur that led Warner Bros. to later make the film credited with starting the big-bug craze. In 1953, the studio released The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, a true classic about a hibernating dinosaur jostled awake by A-bomb testing in the Arctic Circle that terrorized the East Coast of North America. The filmâs unexpected box-office success â thanks to stop-motion animation genius Ray Harryhausen and his fictional Rhedosaurus â stirred up interest in other giant creature films.
George Worthing Yates â who would go on to write such B-movie gems as It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955), Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956) and Attack of the Puppet People (1958) â had written a story treatment about giant ants terrorizing the New York City subway system. Warner Bros. bought the original story and a screenplay was written by Ted Sherdeman and Russell Hughes with the setting moved to the more cost-efficient California. (The movie also was planned to be shot in color and 3D but was eventually made in black and white â again for budget reasons â with only the filmâs title in color.)
Not only wouldThem! be the highest grossing film of 1954 for Warner Bros., it opened the door to big-bug films that were only limited by the imagination. That they had the bonus of the easy-to-follow formula provided by The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms and Them! made these films easy to replicate: Start with mysterious deaths and destruction; add a scientist(s) and the military; have fantastic proclamations and explanations (âWe may be witnesses to a biblical prophecy come true!â); and show throngs of people running and screaming in terror.
The public was hooked and the shift was felt throughout the industry.
As Bela Lugosi (played by Martin Landau) said in Tim Burton’s film Ed Wood: “Nobody wants vampires anymore. Now all they want is giant bugs.”
The best remains Them!
âItâs Them
alright.â
Them! begins
with a mystery.
An adorable little girl is found wandering the desert in her pajamas by highway patrol officers. Clutching her doll, the unresponsive child appears to be in shock. The officers take her to a nearby camping site to find her family, but itâs torn apart and no one is around.
âThis wasnât caved in, it was caved out,â Officer Ben Peterson (played by James Whitmore) proclaims as he examines the wreckage where he notices, oddly enough, that sugar cubes are missing.
A puzzling,
high-pitched sound comes from the desert, temporarily waking the little girl
who returns to her catatonic state as quickly as the sound subsides without
anyone noticing. (âItâs the wind â itâs freakish in these parts,â is an explanation
neither officer believes.)
As an atmospheric sandstorm brews creating even more odd sounds, they discover the nearby general store is also destroyed.
âThis wasnât pushed in, it was pulled out,â Ben says examining the missing store wall. Sadly, they discover the body of kindly Gramps Johnson. Once again, sugar is missing but money hasnât been touched and that leads to the logical conclusion that it’s the work of a homicidal maniac.
âNo money stolen, violent wreckage, just sugar taken,â Ben says.
Just sugar taken â nothing
strange about that.
Brought in to help with the mystery are FBI agent Robert Graham (played by a handsome and blond James Arness) and scientists from the Department of Agriculture Harold Medford (Edmund Gwenn) and his daughter Pat (Joan Weldon).
When Dr. Medford learns the destructive activities are all taking place near Alamogordo, New Mexico, where in reality the first atom bomb tests took place in 1945, that seems to confirm his suspicions. (Using the example of real A-bomb tests surely would cause unease with moviegoers.) Dr. Medford puts a glass of formic acid â a compound in ant venom – under the catatonic girlâs nose leading to one of the most effective and timeless scenes in 1950s horror as she jumps awake screaming âThem! Them! Them!â â giving the film its title.
Itâs one of a surprising number of effective scenes in this taut sci-fi thriller that include a giant ant slowly rising over a scientist’s head; an officer turning lights off one by one, shrouding himself in darkness as the winds and that awful whistling sound return; and the chilling image of an ant throwing a human rib cage down a small dirt mound as it lands among other bones and debris including a gun holster. (âYou just found your missing persons.â)
The filmâs documentary style also builds tension. There are moments watching it in 2021 that we can imagine we are viewing live cable news.
Dr. Medford also shows a very short and efficiently informative film on ants to educate a meeting of leaders – and moviegoers. (Not all films were successful with this tact: Deadly Mantis would be better off without the long opening explainer that includes a lesson in radar.)
Although they find the ants and destroy their nest, it’s not even close to being over. Two egg cases that belonged to the queens – who can fly – are empty and the rest of the film details the methodical nationwide hunt for them. The final sequences, which include a search for two missing boys, make the most of the atmospheric Los Angeles storm drain system – a perfect place for big ants to hide.
âWe havenât seen the end of them. Weâve only had a close view of the beginning of what may be the end of us,â Dr. Medford says with the same requisite deference to an end of the world scenario seen in other films including one that even has the name The Beginning of the End
Though Warner Bros. started this craze, the studio didnât keep it going. Luckily, others stepped in, going beyond bugs to include an octopus so big it could wrap itself around the Golden Gate Bridge (It Came from Beneath the Sea) and people who towered over power lines (The Attack of the 50-Ft. Woman, The Amazing Colossal Man).
âWhen man entered the atomic age, he opened doors to a new world. What we will eventually find in that new world, nobody can predict,â Dr. Medford warns at the end of Them!
Not surprisingly, neither science nor the movie world have closed that door yet. The results of humans destroying nature remain a subgenre of sci-fi and horror films. In the 1970s, environmental concerns were especially prevalent in films that went for quantity of creatures over size as armies of creepy crawlies attacked in films such as Bug (1975), produced by William Castle; Empire of the Ants (1977) based on an H.G. Wells story; Kingdom of the Spiders (1977), and The Swarm (1978).
Other big-bug films
Here are a few suggestions of other 1950s films to add to your watch list.
Tarantula (1955). Directed by Jack Arnold, this is film of my nightmares. An experiment by a benevolent scientist trying to create a super nutrient to help feed the world goes wrong, causing an arachnid to grow to giant proportions. The tarantula goes solo in this, but he grows large enough to tower over a house and that’s a terrifying site.
Beginning of the End(1957). Bert I. Gordon directs Peter Graves in this melodramatic take on giant grasshoppers overtaking the world. Not quite up there with Them! but still a good time.
Black Scorpion(1957). This time a volcanic eruption in Mexico is to blame for unleashing an army of scorpions that are bigger than men. If you are creeped out by the thought of being crushed to death by giant claws this might not be for you. Willis OâBrien (King Kong) was the special effects supervisor. Richard Denning and Mara Corday co-star.
Deadly Mantis(1957). Another volcanic eruption, another giant creature awakens from a frozen slumber. Recommended viewing if you can ignore the talky opening explanation. (Just give us the bugs, please.) Craig Stevens,William Hopper and Alix Talton help the U.S. Army battle the giant insect.
Attack of the Giant Leeches(1959). Thereâs something strange in the swamp waters leading to a string of mysterious deaths in this film from executive producer Roger Corman.
The Killer Shrews (1959). Once again, research to stop world hunger goes terribly wrong causing an accidental growth spurt in rodents. Action takes place on a remote island where a captain and first mate are stuck by a storm after delivering supplies to a group of researchers.
Key players in Them!
The film had a cast of future all-stars.
After Them!, James Arness put on a cowboy hat for his next role as Sheriff Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke, a series that lasted for 20 seasons.
Fess Parker is only in the film for one scene as a pilot put in an insane asylum after seeing flying saucers that looked like ants. The day of shooting, representatives from Disney were on set to check out James Arness to star in Davy Crockett. They were so impressed by Parker, they cast him instead.
Leonard Nimoy has a cameo as an officer who grabs a report off a teletype machine.
William Schallert, who would later star in such popular TV series as The Patty Duke Show, is in an early scene as an ambulance driver.
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.
First impressions, Mama always said, are important.
Our introductions to film noir features arenât necessarily
indisputable predictors of the quality of the picture ahead, but there are
certainly those that grab you within the first few minutes and never â to our
benefit â let go.
This monthâs Noir Nook takes a look at more noirs whose
distinctive beginnings accurately telegraph the filmâs shadowy sins and
devilish delights.
This film, which is one of my all-time favorites, centers on the efforts of a tenacious police lieutenant (Cornel Wilde) to bring to justice a local mob boss known only as Mr. Brown (Richard Conte) â all the while falling for Brownâs mistress (played by Wildeâs then real-life wife, Jean Wallace). The first thing youâll notice is the filmâs unique jazzy score; it puts you on notice that youâre in for a hot time. As the film begins, we focus on a boxing arena, but weâre not there for the fight. Instead, weâre taken into the bowels of the building, where we see a young woman dressed in a strapless cocktail dress and heels, running from two men (Lee Van Cleef and Earl Holliman). Before long, the men catch up to her, but she promises to return to her seat if theyâll unhand her and allow her to return on her own. They agree, and she expresses her gratitude by smacking one of the men square in the face with her sequined evening bag.
Yet another of my favorites, They Live By Night has one of the most unusual openings that Iâve ever seen. It shows stars Farley Granger and Cathy OâDonnell, filmed in close-up, kissing and cuddling before what appears to be a flickering fireplace, accompanied by a sweet and innocent score. The captions inform us: âThis boy and this girl were never properly introduced to the world we live in. To tell their story …â The couple then abruptly stops kissing and looks with surprise-slash-concern-slash fear toward the camera, and the filmâs title fills the screen, along with a radical shift in the music. Beneath the credits, we see a car populated by four men, recklessly moving along highways and through unpaved fields, until it blows a tire, pulls off the road, and the action begins.
Picture this: Edmond OâBrien is purposefully walking down a dark, secluded street, when he pauses in a doorway, observing a man nearby who is completing some sort of financial exchange with two gents in a parked car. OâBrien withdraws a gun from his pocket, fits it with a silencer, then throws a casual arm around the other manâs shoulders after the car pulls away. As OâBrien leads him toward an alley, the manâs eyes widen with fear, and with good reason â seconds later, OâBrien shoots the man in the back, removes a thick envelope from his coat, and then shouts, âStop or Iâll shoot!â before firing his gun into the air. What OâBrien doesnât know â but we do â is that this entire chain of events has been witnessed by a man living in an apartment above the alley. And itâs not until this point that the opening credits begin to roll.
Itâs nighttime in the big city. The camera focuses on a high-rise office building, then goes inside to show the lobby elevator. When the doors open, we see a man dressed as an elevator operator carrying a leather satchel. When he exits, we see something else â a dead man on the elevator floor. The man runs to a nearby getaway car, which disappears into the night as a voiceover intones: âThe crime: murder. The motive: money. Three hundred thousand dollars, which never reached the bankâs night depository. The place: New York City. The killer and the money vanished, a slick, cold-blooded job.â Weâre further informed by the narrator that the case came alive again a year later, in Los Angeles, where off-duty Det. Sgt. Calvin Bruner (Steve Cochran) spied some suspicious activity in a downtown pharmacy. As Bruner begins to investigate, the opening credits roll, and once heâs inside the building, he commences to participate in one of the best fight scenes Iâve seen since the climax of Red River (1948).
Once again, we start at night. This time, weâre shown a car
driving down a deserted highway. When it comes to a halt beside a sand dune, we
see that there are three men in the front seat, but only two of them are
breathing. These two remove the third man from the car and dump him
unceremoniously over the edge of the dune. The next morning, the body is
discovered by a couple of surveyors, who contact the local police. âWell,â says
one of the cops when he recognizes the dead man, âthey finally got him.â
—
Incidentally, each of these first-rate noirs can be found on
YouTube. Tune in and see what happens after these attention-grabbing openers.
You wonât be sorry.
âŚ
â Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub
For those of you who are unfamiliar
with Cinemallennials, it is a bi-weekly podcast in which I, and another
millennial, watch a classic film that weâve never seen before, and discuss its
significance and relevance in todayâs world.
In todayâs episode, Iâll be talking with Nick Reed about Stanley Kubrickâs 1957 anti-war film, Paths of GloryÂÂâ a film that is often thought of as one of the most shocking criticisms of war, its futility, and what it does to both its participants and the civilians that are affected by its consequences.
Stanley Kubrick is often considered to be one of the most innovative filmmakers of all-time. Kubrickâs technical achievements, combined with his meticulous focus on realistic detail, his thought-provoking stories and his use of painterly cinematography, are all examples of what makes him one of the greats. In addition to his methodical and visual hallmarks, Kubrickâs philosophical approach to filmmaking appeals to both intellectuals and the common man as he is able to balance the fine line of simple, but not uncomplicated. Spartacus,Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, 2001: A Space Odyssey, A Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon, The Shining, and Full Metal Jacket could never have been realized in their finalized state as some of the greatest films of all time — if it wasnât for Paths of Glory.
Paths of Glory follows the story of Colonel Dax (Kirk Douglas), who is ordered by his arrogant and grandiose commanding officer, General Mireau (George Macready) to capture an impossible strategic position in no man’s land, most likely leading his troops to their certain deaths. After the attack fails, and with his pride hurt, Mireau singles out four of Daxâs men for court-martial which could lead to their execution. Dax must defend these men against Mireauâs words and, as one of the best criminal lawyers in all of France prior to the war, he is the only one capable to do so. Or is he?
During the episode, Nick and I will
be discussing the horrors of the First World War, how it is insufficiently
discussed in the United States, the ill-guided romanticization of war in
general, and how that view of it can change the human condition.
Stanley Kubrick once told Craig McGregor of the New York Times that: âMan isn’t a noble savage, he’s an ignoble savage. He is irrational, brutal, weak, silly, unable to be objective about anything where his own interests are involved â that about sums it up. Iâm interested in the brutal and violent nature of man because it’s a true picture of him. And any attempt to create social institutions on a false view of the nature of man is probably doomed to failure.” This quote is what really drives both Paths of Glory and Kubrickâs often absurdist depiction of war and its institutions.
In Paths of Glory, the French trenches are realistically grim and full of reproduced sights and sounds that soldiers would have likely witnessed and heard — as one can see from the most famous scene of the film in which Colonel Dax trudges through the mud, flanked by his men with shells exploding on all sides. While Kubrick presents a fraction of what was actually in the trenches with its sound and fury, what makes Paths of Glory stand out as an anti-war film is his use of dialogue and music to mock the absurdities of the war and its officer class, and show how that class can change the future of the lower classesâ human condition without any real consequence.
Through this exploration of the First World War and in the way its romanticized, we as the younger generation should learn how the supposed âWar to end all warsâ still affects us today as a result of the millions of unnecessary deaths. Not only was it the inspiration for Paths of Glory, amongst other great feats of cinema ÂÂ- as recently as Sam Mendesâ 1917 – but its direct consequences have led to some of the problems that we still are facing today.
I hope you enjoy this episode of Cinemallennials, which you can find here on apple podcasts or on spotify. Please reach out to me as I would love to hear your thoughts on Paths of Glory, especially if youâre a first-time viewer too!
Dave Lewis is the producer, writer, and host of Cinemallennials, a podcast where he and another millennial watch a classic film that they havenât seen before ranging from the early 1900s to the late 1960s and discuss its significance and relevance in our world today. Before writing for Classic Movie Hub, Dave wrote about Irish and Irish-American history, the Gaelic Athletic Association in the United States, and Irish innovators for Irish America magazine. You can find more episodes of Cinemallennials, film reviews and historical analyses, on Daveâs website dlewmoviereview.com or his YouTube channel.
Twenty years after the silent hit with Douglas Fairbanks, Tyrone Power donned the iconic mask for The Mark of Zorro (1940), a truly delightful swashbuckler packed with action, comedy, and romance that still enchants new audiences today.
The Zorro movies are, in many ways, the direct forebears of the superhero blockbusters of our modern age, a heady mix of popular culture in both their history and their influence, and as such ought to be watched by anyone with an interest in comic books, action movies, superheroes, and American movie culture. You donât, however, need to be obsessed with the cultural origins of Batman (as relevant as he is) to love The Mark of Zorro. Itâs a grand romp with a cast of favorite stars that perfectly demonstrates the appeal of the swashbuckler genre and the dashing Tyrone Power, with lively direction from Rouben Mamoulian and a rousing, Oscar-nominated score from Alfred Newman.
Iâve always loved swashbuckling action heroes, and Powerâs Zorro â along with Errol Flynnâs Robin Hood â is one of the best for introducing older kids and teenagers to some classic movie magic. Power is utterly charming as the duplicitous Don Diego, who assumes the manner of a fop on his return to California in order to keep the corrupt rulers from suspecting his escapades as the masked vigilante. As thrilling as he is when playing the hero, Power really shines with the comedy and romance, especially when confronted by the irresistible Linda Darnell as Lolita. At every moment Powerâs Diego hides a smile at his own audacious deception, even when his father (Montagu Love) despises his seemingly useless son. We often talk about how the classic film camera loves iconic actresses, but the camera loves Tyrone Power just as much. Heâs absolutely captivating, the embodiment of roguish masculine sex appeal poured into very tight pants. Whether heâs dancing with Lolita, fending off the advances of her aunt, Inez (Gale Sondergaard), or fencing with the villainous Captain Esteban (Basil Rathbone), Power is a delight to behold.
It helps tremendously, of course, that Power enjoys the support of an amazing cast, especially Darnell as his lady love and the elegantly menacing Rathbone as his nemesis. As one of the great heavies of classic movie history, Rathbone is very much in his element and at home with the swordplay, having been the British Army Fencing Champ twice during his military career. Rathbone is one of those truly brilliant actors who makes every role memorable, but the jealous, violent Captain Esteban ranks high among his most thrilling characters. Other cast members highlight the comedic elements of the story, especially J. Edward Bromberg as the craven Quintero and Gale Sondergaard as his scheming, preening wife.
Eugene Pallette is also great fun as the feisty friar, Felipe, who encourages Diego to fight for the people. For Pallette, itâs almost the exact same role he had already played as Friar Tuck in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) just two years earlier, in which Rathbone and Montagu Love had also appeared. They overlap in so many fascinating ways that I tend to think of The Adventures of Robin Hood and The Mark of Zorro as the perfect swashbuckling double feature, although you could make a whole film festival out of it by adding The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934), Captain Blood (1935), The Black Swan (1942), and The Flame and the Arrow (1950). As a collection, the films reveal the genreâs most enduring conventions and character types, from heroes and heavies to ladies and lackeys.
While Fairbanks returned to the character for Don Q, Son of Zorro in 1925, Power only played the role of Zorro once, but both of them helped to create a character who has endured in many different forms. Like modern superhero movies, swashbucklers make for great escapes from a troubled world; they give us heroes to believe in and cheer for as well as villains to hiss. Zorro occupies a special place because of his role as a particularly American hero after the continental adventures of Robin Hood and The Scarlet Pimpernel. (It helped, too, that Hollywood could make Southern California represent itself for a change, instead of pretending to be Sherwood Forest or some other faraway location.)
After Fairbanks and Power, other actors would go on to play the heroic outlaw; Robert Livingston took the part for The Bold Caballero (1936), and Guy Williams became Zorro for a generation of viewers in the Disney television series that ran from 1957 to 1959. More recently, Antonio Banderas donned the costume as Zorroâs successor in The Mask of Zorro (1998) and The Legend of Zorro (2005). Each version has its appeal, but the 1940 film is still a quintessential example of the swashbuckler genre and a great place to start an exploration of the connections between classic movie heroes and modern ones.
If, like me, youâre a sucker for Tyrone Powerâs dark-eyed charms, be sure to see him in Blood and Sand (1941) and Son of Fury: The Story of Benjamin Blake (1942) as well as The Black Swan(1942). For a shocking change of pace, catch him in the fascinatingly gritty circus noir, Nightmare Alley (1947), or see his last great performance in Witness for the Prosecution (1957) before his death in 1958 of a heart attack at the age of 44. To get back to the original story of Zorro, read Johnston McCulleyâs 1919 novel, The Curse of Capistrano, which was originally released as a serial and then appeared as a book in 1924 with the title, The Mark of Zorro.
Classic Movie Travels: Lucille Bremer – New York and Mexico
Lucille Rita Bremer (pronounced âBray-merâ) was a film actress and dancer, particularly remembered for her work in MGM musical films. Born in Amsterdam, New York, to Richard Bremer and Sarah E. Nichols on February 21, 1917, and raised in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Bremerâs father was of German descent and worked as a barber, while her mother was of Scottish descent and worked as a homemaker. Bremer was the youngest of two children. She had an older brother named Walter, who was 11 years older than her.
When her family settled in Philadelphia, she developed a strong interest in
dancing. She studied ballet as a child and later went on to dance with the
Philadelphia Opera Company, sparking an appreciation for the performing arts.
As the years went on, Bremer aimed to pursue dancing professionally. She returned to New York to dance at the 1939 Worldâs Fair and soon secured a career as a Rockette at Radio City Music Hall by age 16. She was typically 5th from the right in the lineup and toured with the show.
In addition to her work as a Rockette, Bremer actively sought additional dance roles, including appearances in Panama Hattie, earned a featured role in Dancing in the Streets, and the ingĂŠnue role in Lady in the Dark. At the same time, she attempted to begin a career in films. After an unsuccessful screen test for Warner Brothers, she once again turned to dance. However, her luck changed when MGM producer Arthur Freed discovered her dancing at the Copacabana and Club Versailles.
Ultimately, Freed invited Bremer to Hollywood for a screen test with MGM. There, she tested with a passage from Dark Victory(1939). She was offered a contract to showcase her talent as a dancer, soon studying acting in an effort to become a star for the Freed Unit.
After appearing in some uncredited film roles, Bremerâs big break would be as Rose Smith in Meet Me in St. Louis (1944). This appearance was followed by more work in musicals such as Ziegfeld Follies(1945), Yolanda and the Thief(1945), and Till the Clouds Roll By (1946). Though she starred in Yolanda and the Thief opposite Fred Astaire, the film was a box office failure and severely marred her rise to film stardom. Gradually, MGM ceased promoting her and she would make her final starring role in a film noir called Behind Locked Doors(1948).
Disenchanted with Hollywood, Bremer left the industry and focused on her private life. She married Abelardo âRodâ Luis Rodriguez, son of a former president of Mexico, at Catalina Island in 1940, later moving to California Sur, Mexico. The couple started a private resort called Rancho Las Cruces, in addition to the Palmilla and Hacienda Hotels in Baja. Her connection to Hollywood piqued the interest of her former film colleagues, eager to vacation in Mexico. In addition, the couple also found business partners in Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball, as well as Bing Crosby.
The couple would go on to have four children: Nicolas, Cristina, Torre
Richard, and Karen Rodriguez. They divorced in 1963.
Following her divorce, Bremer moved
to La Jolla, California, where she owned a clothing boutique for children. She
balanced her time between La Jolla and Baja, traveling frequently, until her
passing from a heart attack on April 16, 1996, at a La Jolla hospital. She was
79 years old.
Today, very few tributes or locations of relevance in relation to Bremer
remain. Her 1920 home at 1135 Miller St. in Utica, New York is long-gone.
In 1940,
she lived in an apartment at 307 79th St in New York, New York,
which does remain today.
Bremerâs
ashes were partially scattered in the Sea of Cortez as well as next to the
church that she and her husband had built on the resort property. A plaque
honoring Bremer as well as Desi Arnaz is affixed to the church.
While Bremer left behind a brief filmography, her work continues to entertain fans of classic Hollywood musicals.
Annette Bochenek of Chicago, Illinois, is a PhD student at Dominican University and an independent scholar of Hollywoodâs 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 âHometowns to Hollywoodâ film series throughout the Chicago area. She has been featured on Turner Classic Movies and is the president of TCM Backlotâs Chicago chapter. In addition to writing for Classic Movie Hub, she also writes for Silent Film Quarterly, Nostalgia Digest, and Chicago Art Deco SocietyMagazine.
That said, here are some of our March picks available for FREE STREAMING all month long on the CMH Channel. All you need to do is click on the movie/show of your choice, then click âplayâ â you do not have to opt for a 7-day trial.
In celebration of March Birthdays, weâre featuring Joan Crawford (born Mar 23, 1905) in the 1932 Lewis Milestone-directed drama Rain, opposite Walter Huston. Weâre also celebrating director David Leanâs birthday (Mar 25, 1908) with his 1948 adaptation of Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist starring Robert Newton and Alec Guinness — as well as David Niven’s birthday (Mar 1, 1910) with Happy Go Lovely and Jennifer Jone’s birthday (Mar 2, 1919 ) with Beat the Devil. We’ll also be showing two of my favorites, Little Lord Fauntleroy starring Freddie Bartholomew (born Mar 28, 1924), and And Then There Were None starring Barry Fitzgerald (born Mar 10, 1888).
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Weâre also celebrating some Vintage Westerns this month with some iconic western film stars including Roy Rogers, Gene Autry and Tex Ritter! And moreâŚ
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For those of you who arenât familiar with the service, Best Classics Ever is a new mega streaming channel built especially for classic movie and TV lovers. The idea of the channel is to make lots of classic titles accessible and affordable for all. That said, Classic Movie Hub is curating titles each month that our fans can stream for free on the Classic Movie Hub Channelat Best Classics Ever. If youâd like access to the entire selection of Best Classics Ever titles, you can subscribe to everything for a low monthly fee of $4.99/month (Best Stars Ever, Best Westerns Ever, Best Mysteries Ever, Best TV Ever) or for an individual channel for only $1.99/month.
You can read more about Best Classics Ever and our partnership here.
This month I’m taking a look at Rio Bravo (1959), which is not only one of my favorite Westerns, it’s one of my all-time favorite movies.
My history with this film goes back to May of 1977 when I was in my early teens and saw the film for the very first time at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art’s Leo S. Bing Theater. (Alas, the theater where I had so many formative movie viewing experiences was demolished in 2020.) Even at that point in my life I was keeping records of my movie watching and gave Rio Bravo a four-star rating, an impression which has only been solidified with the passage of time.
As the years went by I also enjoyed introducing our children to the movie; it’s a particular favorite of our oldest son’s, and when we adopted a stray dog who came to our door many years ago, everyone approved of our son’s suggestion to name our dog Chance, after John Wayne‘s Rio Bravo character, Sheriff John T. Chance.
Because the movie was on our TV
screen so often when our children were young, I refrained from watching it in
recent years, though I loved it no less; part of my thinking was that perhaps
the next time I saw it I’d be fortunate to see it once again on a big
screen. Due to COVID, that now seems unlikely in the coming months, so
when I had a yen to see the film recently I pulled out our DVD for a happy
reunion with old friends.
Rio Bravo was directed by Howard Hawks, who had previously directed Wayne in another Western classic, Red River (1948). The screenplay by Jules Furthman and Leigh Brackett was inspired by a story by B.H. McCampbell.
For those who haven’t seen it, the film takes place in a dusty frontier town where, shortly after the film begins, Sheriff John T. Chance (Wayne) arrests Joe Burdette (Claude Akins) for killing a man in cold blood.
Joe is the brother of powerful Nathan Burdette (John Russell), who pledges to free his brother from the jail before the marshal can arrive to pick Joe up for trial. Burdette’s men are placed all over town, keeping a threatening eye on the jailhouse. The only men the sheriff has to aid him are his deputies, elderly Stumpy (Walter Brennan), and alcoholic Dude (Dean Martin).
When Chance’s old friend Pat Wheeler (Ward Bond) arrives in town and offers his help, Chance turns him down, but Wheeler is gunned down in the street anyway. Colorado (Ricky Nelson), a young gunslinger who had been working for Wheeler, joins forces with Chance to prevent Joe from being busted out of jail.
“Feathers” (Angie Dickinson), a gambler’s widow who’s also just arrived in town, takes a liking to Chance and helps as she can, guarding Chance while he sleeps and later helping Chance and Colorado by providing distraction during a key moment battling Burdette’s men.
In the end, like so many Westerns, it all comes down to an explosive â literally! â gunfight.
Rio Bravo is a superb mixture of familiar
Western themes, great dialogue, top action scenes, music, romance, and
marvelous performances; in a nutshell, it has every single element a Western
fan could want.
I’ve always had warm feelings about the camaraderie in this film, played out in many scenes against glowing lamplight. Thinking along those lines, this was my first time to watch the movie since seeing Hawks’ sci-fi film The Thing From Another World (1951), and I was really struck by how much the two films had in common.
In each Hawks film, a group is stranded in the middle of nowhere with no immediate help coming, trying to shut down a literal or figurative monster. At the same time, the group dynamics are so reassuring and enjoyable that the viewer wishes to be there and be part of it, despite the danger.
A key moment in this regard comes just before the final confrontation, when Wayne, Martin, Brennan, and Nelson are relaxing in the jailhouse and sing a couple of songs. (A nice “through-line” from Hawks and Wayne’s previous Western is that one of the songs, “My Rifle, My Pony, and Me,” uses instrumental music the film’s composer, Dimitri Tiomkin, had previously written for Red River.) On the surface, one might assume this is wasted time simply to showcase the two singers in the cast, especially given that the film runs a lengthy two hours and 21 minutes. But to the contrary, this sequence is one of the best in the film.
There’s something quite special
in the characters just “hanging out,” underscoring the relationships
and that these are men who can count on one another, as indeed they will need
to very soon thereafter. It’s the single scene, lovingly photographed by
Russell Harlan, that has lingered most in my memory in the decades since my
first viewing.
Beyond that, there are so many
other favorite moments, the best of which for me is a fast-paced shootout with
Colorado and Feathers helping Chance out of a dangerous confrontation.
It’s so beautifully choreographed that I can never resist rewinding and
watching it a second time before continuing on with the rest of the movie.
The performances, like the rest of the movie, are spot-on. This is one of my favorite Wayne roles, as he is by turns assured, supportive, and, when dealing with Feathers, completely baffled.  Rio Bravo follows in the footsteps of earlier Wayne Westerns, particularly Tall in the Saddle (1944) and Angel and the Badman (1947), where his tough character is turned upside down when dealing with a strong, direct woman. (There’s more on those two films in my 2018 column on favorite John Wayne films and leading ladies.) Dickinson and Wayne quickly build believable chemistry as the story plays out over a short time span.
The first time I saw the movie, I thought Nelson was the weak link in a polished cast, but over the years I’ve revised my opinion. He’s as perfect for his role as the rest of the cast, reminding me just a bit of Audie Murphy.
Martin, in particular, shows real acting chops as a tormented alcoholic trying to reform, and Brennan has some scene-stealing moments as grizzled Stumpy. Speaking of scene-stealing, the bit where Chance bends over and spontaneously kisses Stumpy’s balding head is definitely such a moment.
The terrific cast also includes Estelita Rodriguez, Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez, and Bob Steele.
Viewers may notice that Harry Carey Jr. is billed in the opening credits, but he never actually shows up in the movie. Years ago my husband emailed Carey about this via Carey’s website, and Carey graciously responded, explaining that it was decided after filming that his character was extraneous to the story, so he ended up on the cutting-room floor. It’s too bad, but given the movie’s running time, I’m guessing it was the correct decision.
Elaborating on that, as mentioned
above the film clocks in with a running time closer to two and a half hours
than two. Although I’m generally a fan of shorter, fast-paced films, I
have no issues at all with this movie’s running time; it flies by, and I
appreciate every scene. I wouldn’t drop a second of what made it into the
film’s final cut.
In summary, I consider Rio Bravo to be a perfect Western. Whether a viewer is brand-new to the genre or is a longtime fan, this film is most highly recommended.
âŚ
â Laura Grieve for Classic Movie Hub
Laura can be found at her blog, Lauraâs Miscellaneous Musings, where sheâs 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 âWestern RoundUpâ for CMH.
Silents are Golden: 4 Fearless Movie Stuntmen Of The 1920s
One of my recent columns talked about the dangers early studios often faced to capture âauthenticâ weather and hair-raising stunts. That inspired this monthâs piece, which takes a closer look at some of the courageous folks who literally risked their lives to bring thrills to the big screen.
One fascinating aspect of films from the 1910s
and 1920s was the preference for real, death-defying stunts, often performed
without any professional equipment. Cliff jumping, planes crashing into barns,
cars rolling down hills–early movie stuntmen were eager to do anything to make
an audience gasp.
Aside from stars like Buster Keaton or Douglas Fairbanks, who were known for doing their own stunts, who were some of the professional stuntmen (and stuntwomen) of the silent era?
4. Leo
Nomis
Described by historian Kevin Brownlow as âone of the few veterans of the business,â Leo Nomis got his start in traveling carnivals where he performed bicycle stunts and did long drops into safety nets. A ânever say dieâ sort of fellow, he tended to take stunts to their limits before switching to new ones. After breaking bones when he tried dropping into a net from a 100-foot ladder, he started parachuting from hot air balloons. After getting set on fire by the kerosene stove inflating the balloon he switched to auto racing for county fairs. Finally he turned to airplane stunts â it paid better than auto racing â and ended up stunting for the movies.
Nomisâs most familiar stunt today was for Cecil B. DeMilleâs Manslaughter(1922), which had a scene where Leatrice Joy is pursued by a cop for speeding. The scene called for her car to spin around (with Richard Arlen doubling for Joy) and collide with the copâs motorcycle, sending him flying. Nomis agreed to the stunt and reportedly asked DeMille to âkeep an eye on the wife and kidsâ if anything happened. A large crowd was allowed to watch as Nomis slammed into the car at 45 miles per hour and flew through the air. Accounts of the aftermath vary, but some say he only broke his collarbone while Joy said he broke his pelvis and several ribs. He would live to stunt many more times until passing away in a plane crash while working on Sky Bride (1932).
3. Dick
Grace
Probably the most famous stunt man in the industry, Graceâs specialty was literally crashing planes. Born in Morris, Minnesota, as a kid he built a glider in his familyâs barn and as a young man he served as a pilot during World War I, earning a Purple Heart. More interested in flying than a prosaic career, he became a barnstormer at country fairs then decided to try his luck in Hollywood.
At first, Grace was an all-purpose stunt man for both actors and actresses, gamely diving off cliffs, spinning cars, and even jumping into cages of lions. One film required him to double for a woman whose ballet dress was supposed to catch fire. The costume, soaked in gasoline, blazed out of control so quickly that Grace suffered massive third-degree burns â fortunately, a doctorâs quick action saved him from horrible scarring.
Finally, Grace was being paid to do aerial stunts, which quickly made him famous. In the mid-1920s he starred in a series of thrill pictures for Sunset Productions and his daredevil skills were sought out for prestige pictures like Wings(1927). It was during Wings that he suffered another major injury. After doing a tricky crash where he flipped the plane upside down, he crawled out of the wreck and posed for photos with the director before suddenly collapsing. He had broken his neck.
In spite of everything Grace lived to the age
of 67 and wrote often about his aerial adventures. One of his books was drily
titled: I Am Still Alive.
2.
Helen Gibson
Americaâs first professional stunt woman for
the movies, Gibson was raised in Cleveland where her father encouraged her
tomboyish exploits. After seeing a Wild West show when she was a teen, she
answered an ad for female horseback riders and learned how to ride and do
stunts. She performed for the 101 Ranch Real Wild West Show until it folded
when the company was in Venice, California, and from there, she naturally broke
into the movies.
While not working in western films she and her husband âHootâ Gibson performed in rodeos. In 1915 she started stunting for star Helen Holmes in Kalemâs popular TheHazards of Helenadventure-series. She was so successful that she eventually replaced Holmes as the star. In the dozens of films that followed Gibson swung onto trains from ropes, did motorcycle jumps, and raced horses. One of her most daring stunts involved standing on a team of running horses and then jumping onto a moving train.
Gibsonâs starring career waned after she suffered a ruptured appendix in 1921. She starting working in circuses and rodeos again and by the late 1920s was a stunt double for numerous famous actresses, from Louise Fazenda to Ethel Barrymore. In the following decades, she stayed busy with extra roles and character parts, and she passed away in 1977 at age 85.
1.Jean Perkins
Dick Grace himself thought Jean Perkins was the best stunt man in films. A self-possessed young man with extraordinary physical skills, he, unfortunately, wouldnât share them with the world for very long.
A stuntman for serials like The Hazards of Helen and the early 1920s
Do or Die, Perkins was hired to do a
tricky aerial feat for The Eagleâs Talons
(1922). The hero was supposed to climb from a small airplane and down a
ladder onto a moving train, where heâd have a showdown with a villain. This
required Perkins to be hanging onto the ladder as the plane descended, and the
pilot would have to account for the trainâs speed (about 55 miles per hour).
Unfortunately, a combination of having an inexperienced pilot and a strong side wind made the stunt even trickier than expected. They failed to make the transfer twice, and the third time Perkins hit the side of the railroad car. As the airplane looped around for yet a fourth time, Perkins was seen trying to climb back up the ladder, but his strength finally gave out. Grace had witnessed the whole thing: â…With a hopeless shake of the head, his hands slid from the ladder. He fell probably fifty feet, but the speed of the airplane increased many times the force with which he hit.â He was only 24 years old.
—
Itâs hard to pinpoint what made people like
Nomis, Grace, et al. willingly risk life and limb for a few frames of film.
Some said they did it simply to earn money, others as a way to find fame. And
perhaps most were simply attracted by the sheer challenge and adventure of it
all.
I found the Silents are Goldenâs article âStunt Menâ by Tim Lussier and Mary Malloryâs article âDick Grace, Hollywoodâs Daredevil Sky Pilotâ very helpful while researching this column â and of course, Kevin Brownlowâs seminal book The Paradeâs Gone By.
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 Quarterlyand has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.
The Funny Papers: Cinematic Fascination with The Big (and Sometimes Blended) Family
When my husband and I married a dozen years ago, we were each going to the altar for the second time. We became a blended family, bringing with us our own pair of kiddos to turn into a family of six. This union of opposites- of introverted blondes and outgoing brunettes- brought more than a few comparisons to âThe Brady Bunch.â While a blended family of six is a bit smaller than the Brady family, thatâs a mere fraction of the much bigger cinematic families celebrated on the big screen.
Ma and Pa Kettle Films
Chester Erskineâs The Egg and I (1947) started it all. Based on Betty MacDonaldâs best-selling 1945 novel of the same name, starring Claudette Colbert and Fred MacMurray, the Ma and Pa Kettle characters were brought to life by Marjorie Main and Percy Kilbride. Marjorie Main earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Actress in a Supporting Role for her cackling, countrified portrayal of a mother of fifteen. The Ma and Pa Kettle characters went on to star in nine more films that essentially saved Universal Studios.
Trivia: In 1969, the Kettle farm set was demolished. It is now the site of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios in Hollywood.   Â
Directed by Walter Lang and stars Myrna Loy, Clifton Webb, and Jeanne Crain. Based on the real-life Gilbreth family of twelve kids, this film follows the popular âMr. Belvedereâ character that Clifton Webb portrayed on-screen in three films where he masterfully wrangled any chaotic crew. Walter Langâs Sitting Pretty (1948) starred Maureen OâHara and earned Webb an Academy Award nomination for Best Actor, in his first Belvedere role. Two more followed with Mr. Belvedere Goes to College (1949) and MR. Belvedere Rings the Bell (1951). Â Â
Favorite line: âAre all these kids yours, mister, or is this a picnic?â Clifton Webb: âTheyâre all mine and believe me, this is NO PICNIC!â
The âreelâ Gilbreth family returned for a sequel in Belles on Their Toes (1952). Myrna Loy returned for this role but sans Clifton Webb. Perhaps due to his absence, or more likely due to a much cheaper production value, this film has not held the same staying power as the original version.
Cheaper By the Dozen was remade in 2003, directed by Shawn Levy, and starred Steve Martin and Bonnie Hunt. While it was not critically acclaimed, it was box office gold for younger audiences, thanks in part to the popularity of the younger members of the cast such as Ashton Kutcher (then aged 25) and Hillary Duff (then aged 16). Its sequel was released two years later with Cheaper By the Dozen 2, which additionally co-starred Eugene Levy. Â Â Â
Doris Day and David Niven star as Kate and Larry Mackay, along with their rambunctious four sons. Based on a novel of the same name, the story centers on Larry as he transitions from professor to high-profile play critic and how that challenges the entire family as they decide to move away from city life. While not a large family in comparison to others in this group, the boisterous boys and the changes they face bring enough chaos it deems an honorable mention. This is one of my favorite films that offers the beauty, humor, and charm of Day and Niven, but also a fun supporting cast with Janis Paige, Spring Byington (her last film role), Richard Hayden, Patsy Kelly, and Jack Weston. You may recognize the familiar faces of the Mackay sons, including Stanley Livingston, later known as âChip Douglasâ from the famed tv series, âMy Three Sons.â     Â
Directed by Robert Wise, starring Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer, this heartwarming musical is based on the real-life story of the Von Trapp Family singers. This beloved classic takes the large family into untraditional territory via the convent. While falling for the nanny may seem a bit clichĂŠ by todayâs standards, the nanny being a nun was certainly a twist in the storyline. At the center of this unique love story, is the supremely talented singing nun (Andrews), a brood of charming children as gifted with song as their father (Plummer), and the drama of battling Nazis. Thereâs no doubt that in addition to the perpetually catchy Rodgers and Hammerstein songs, itâs the seven children- Liesl, Frederich, Louisa, Kurt, Brigitta, Marta, and Gretl- that add so much to our collective love of this charming film. Â
The year 1968 was a pinnacle year for the cinematic big, blended family. The concept of the traditional, nuclear family was beginning to change in the American landscape. While not as prominent as the peak of divorce rate immediately following WW2, not to mention the surge of many war widows, single parenting was on the rise again in the late 1960s. A year later in 1969, then-governor Ronald Reagan signed into law the no-fault divorce, with California being the first state to sign such a bill. It became federal law in 1975. All of this influenced societyâs growing acceptance of blended families and fascination with big families. Howard Morrisâs With Six You Get Eggroll and Melville Shavelsonâs Yours, Mine and Ours both reflected the chaotic comedy that erupts when families collide.
Mitch McClure: (While
all gathered at a table in a Chinese restaurant) âBoy, am I glad you two
got married!â
Abby McClure: âYou are?â
Mitch McClure: âMm-hmm. Because with six, you get
eggroll!â
Doris Day returns to raucous family life in this film co-starring Brian Keith. In Howard Morrisâs With Six You Get Eggroll, Day and Keith portray widow Abby McClure and widower Jake Iverson, who fall in love but find that blending a family can be a roller coaster ride of troubles. Abbyâs three sons and Jakeâs teenage daughter (a young Barbara Hershey) bring hostile resistance to this merger. In addition to all the fun comedic moments that reflect the generation gap and counter culture themes, this flick also features a slew of familiar faces from classic TV such as Pat Carroll, George Carlin, Jamie Farr, Alice Ghostley, and Vic Tayback.
This was Doris Dayâs last feature film before she transitioned to television. In 1968 when this film was released, it was a significant year for Doris. The producer of this film and Dayâs husband, Martin Melcher died. Upon his death, and to her shock, she soon discovered that Melcher had been lying for years about their finances. He had squandered millions amassed from her many years of success and signed her to a television contract â all without her prior knowledge. She owed over a million dollars to the IRS and was able to work hard and eventually turn her finances around. It was also Melcher, not Day, that turned down the iconic role of Mrs. Robinson from The Graduate (1967) the year prior. It thrills me to ponder the possibilities if Melcher had not been an obstacle and she had explored more variety in her career choices.        Â
Based on the 1965 novel âWho Gets the Drumstickâ by the real Helen North Beardsley, story written by Bob Carroll, Jr. and Madelyn Davis, screenplay by Mort Lachman and Melville Shavelson, this was the perfect vehicle for Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball to express their comedic skills. In this tale, Lucille Ball is Helen North, a Navy widow with eight children who meets navy widower Frank Beardsley (Henry Fonda) with ten children. Romance blossoms and marriage follows but not without a tremendous amount of chaos and unique challenges. Considered by many to be the best in this particular category of family films, Melville Shavelsonâs Yours, Mine and Ours was nominated for two Golden Globes and was a smash hit at the box office.
Lucille Ball co-produced this film under her own production company, Desilu. Some of the names tossed around for the role of Frank included Desi Arnaz, Frank MacMurray, and John Wayne. Both Ball and Fonda shine in memorable scenes such as when a highly intoxicated Helen attempts to make a good impression as Frankâs kids spike her drink. In addition to the many recognizable faces in the family (Tim Matheson and Tracy Nelson, for example), Tom Bosley provides comic relief as the family doctor.
Romance bloomed on set. Co-stars Tim Matheson and Jennifer
Leak, who portrayed eldest siblings Mike Beardsley and Colleen North, were
married the same year as the filmâs release. Additionally, according to an
interview with Jane Fonda, her father fell madly for Lucille Ball during
filming. Within a year, âThe Brady Bunchâ was already in production. BB
producer Sherwood Schwartz settled the legal score on copyrighting when he
revealed his original draft for The Brady Bunch was titled, âYours and Mineâ
and pre-dated the filmâs.
In 2005, Yours, Mine and Ours was remade with Dennis Quad and Rene Russo. The remake takes a few liberties with the plot details to update it. Spoiler alert: I do think an essential missing piece from the storyline comes in the âOURSâ department. But why quibble?
Many films and television shows embraced this big and sometimes blended family concept. One of my personal favorite twists on this idea is Stanley Donenâs Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (1954), which offers a very colorful and musical take on this notion. What films or television shows come to mind for you?
When not performing marketing as her day gig, Kellee Pratt teaches classic film courses in her college town in Kansas (Film Noir, Screwball Comedy, Hitchcock, Billy Wilder, and more). Sheâs worked for Turner Classic Movies as a Social Producer and TCM Ambassador (2019). An unapologetic social butterfly, sheâs an active tweetaholic/original alum for #TCMParty, member of the CMBA, and busy mom of four kids and 3 fur babies. You can follow Kellee on twitter at @IrishJayhawk66 or her own blog, Outspoken & Freckled (kelleepratt.com).