[One to four stars. Four sentences each. No spoilers. Sources: Criterion Channel, TCM, YouTube.]
Shortcut to Hell (dir. James Cagney, 1957). James Cagney’s lone effort as a director stars Robert Ivers as hitman Kyle Niles and Georgann Johnson as Glory Hamilton, an upbeat, jokey nightclub singer. As I watched, I kept thinking that Jacques Aubuchon was channeling Laird Cregar, and it’s no wonder: the movie is a remake of This Gun for Hire, itself adapted from Graham Greene’s A Gun for Sale. Many scenes come straight from the original movie; Cagney’s hand might be most evident in Niles’s White Heat-like agony. Best line: “I’m not a person; I’m a gun.” ★★ (YT)
*
This Gun for Hire (dir. Frank Tuttle, 1942). Far superior to the remake. Alan Ladd as the hitman Philip Raven and Veronica Lake as singer-magician Ellen Graham pair well: unlike Glory, Ellen is a cool customer, devoid of Martha Raye-like comedy. As nightclub owner Willard Gates, Laird Cregar adds an oily, minty, villainous charm to the proceedings. Lake gets first billing; Robert Preston, as Ellen’s police-lieutenant boyfriend, second; but the real star, always, is Ladd, as a short vicious ailurophile. ★★★★ (CC)
*
From the Criterion Channel’s Mike Leigh at the BBC
Nuts in May (1976). A BBC Play for Today, and a remake (who knew?) of a 1953 television movie with the same title, a title shared with an unrelated 1917 Stan Laurel short — which is strange, because I thought of this movie as Laurel-and-Hardy-go-camping, if Laurel and Hardy were straight, insufferable, banjo-and-guitar-playing, lacto-vegetarian prigs. Roger Sloman and Alison Steadman are the prigs, Keith and Candice Marie, whose ten-day camping trip to the countryside is made miserable by nearby campers who have no respect for The Country Code. Quietly and sometimes loudly hilarious. Just wait for the songs. ★★★★
The Kiss of Death (1977). Another Play for the Day, it’s the story of a young mortuary assistant, Trevor (David Threlfall), his friend Ronnie, his friend’s girlfriend Sandra, and Sandra’s friend Linda (Kay Adshead), a shoestore employee who may prove a suitable girlfriend for Trevor. Ronnie and Sandra seem to be emotional blanks, figures from The Waste Land. Trevor is an enigma: when the more talkative Linda asks him about the possibility of a kiss, he giggles uncontrollably — yet he’s astonishingly capable when taking on matters of life and death. We’re meant, I think, to understand that Trevor’s daily intimacy with the dead has deeply affected him, but I’m not sure that the movie helps us to understand why giggles are the result. ★★★
*
Loan Shark (dir. Seymour Friedman, 1952). Impossibly ludicrous: just-released ex-con Joe Gargen (George Raft) joins up with the loansharking crew that just killed his brother-in-law; and thus Joe’s sister and his girlfriend, who don’t know that he’s really working undercover, turn their backs on him. Paul Stewart is menacing and has a good scene in a commercial laundry taken over by the sharks. But Raft, is as usual, wooden. Give him any line — “April is the cruellest month,” “My pants are on fire,” “Yabba dabba doo” — and it will come out in the same affectless tone. ★★ (YT)
*
I Accuse! (dir. José Ferrer, 1958). The Dreyfus affair, with Ferrer giving a great performance as the protagonist. Impossible to watch without thinking about McCarthyism — accusations without merit, lives ruined. The really chilling part: nothing Albert Dreyfus can say or do is enough to establish his innocence; everything depends some other person choosing (finally) to do the right thing. A superior effort, with a screenplay by Gore Vidal. ★★★★ (TCM)
*
Edge of Darkness (dir. Lewis Milestone, 1943). Warner Brothers at its finest, in a story told in one long flashback, as a Norwegian fishing village under Nazi occupation awaits a shipment of British arms and a chance to fight back. Impossible to watch without thinking about Ukraine. With Errol Flynn, Ann Sheridan, and Walter Huston. Great cinematography by Sid Hickox, with scenes of combat that recall the director’s All Quiet on the Western Front. ★★★★ (TCM)
*
The Life of Jimmy Dolan (dir. Archie Mayo, 1933). Prizefighter Jimmy Dolan (Douglas Fairbanks Jr.) kills a nasty newspaper man with one punch and flees the city, ending up way out west at a ranch for children with polio, where he assumes the name Jack Dougherty and meets caregiver Peggy (Loretta Young). When the ranch needs money to remain open, Jack decides to enter a boxing contest, even at the risk of being recognized. With Guy Kibbee, Allen Hoskins, Aline MacMahon, Mickey Rooney, and John Wayne. Try to figure out what marks the movie as pre-Code. ★★★ (TCM)
*
They Made Me a Criminal (dir. Busby Berkeley, 1939). A remake, with John Garfield as the fighter (now Johnnie Bradfield), Gloria Dickson as Peggy, and Claude Rains as Guy Kibbee. But much screentime goes to the Dead End Kids (reform-school alums): Gabriel Dell, Leo Gorcey, Huntz Hall, Billy Halop, Bobby Jordan, Bernard Punsly. The love story is weaker than in the original; the scene in the water-storage tank is harrowing. Try to figure out what marks the movie as post-Code. ★★★ (YT)
*
The Little Foxes (dir. William Wyler, 1941). From Lillian Hellman’s play, with a screenplay mostly by Hellman. Greed and schemes in a southern family, circa 1900, with Regina Hubbard Giddens (Bette Davis), an ailing husband (Herbert Marshall), two wealthier brothers (Ben Hubbard and Carl Benton Reid), a daughter who serves as witness to the family’s dysfunction (Teresa Wright), a drunken sister-in-law (Patricia Collinge), a callow nephew (Dan Duryea), and a host of loyal Black servants. Not my kind of movie, but it’s full of great performances: the scene with Mr. and Mrs. Giddens in the sitting room is chilling. Gregg Toland’s cinematography is, as always, brilliant: consider the shaving scene. ★★★★ (TCM)
*
The Hoodlum (dir. Max Nosseck, 1951). You can see it coming: if the movie stars Lawrence Tierney (as felon Vincent Lubeck) and begins with his character’s mother (Lisa Golm) successfully pleading for his parole, things are not going to end well. Vincent is a psychopath: no sooner is he released than he betrays family members and begins scheming an armored-car robbery. Not especially surprising or even suspenseful, but Lisa Golm shines briefly when she recounts her son’s destruction of his family. Best line: “You took your Papa’s name and burned a number on his heart: one nine nine four three six.” ★★★ (YT)
*
Crime and Punishment U.S.A. (dir. Denis Sanders, 1959). The third adaptation of Dostoevsky our household has seen (after Crime and Punishment (1935) and Fear (1946)), and by far the best. George Hamilton — yes, really — is our Raskolnikov, Robert Cole, a Los Angeles college student; Frank Silvera (Killer’s Kiss) is the Porfiry-like Lieutenant Porter, Cole’s nemesis; Mary Murphy (The Wild One) is the Sonya-like Sally. Walter Newman’s screenplay is a brilliant paring down of the novel: Cole’s mother, sister, and best friend are nearly absent; his sister’s employer and suitor are collapsed into one person; emphasis thus falls on the three principals. I have to admit: I preferred this adaptation to the novel itself. ★★★★ (TCM)
Related reading
All OCA “twelve movies” posts (Pinboard)
