Change Your Image
brucewhain
Ratings
Most Recently Rated
Reviews
Hoosier Schoolboy (1937)
HIGHLY EXPERT
Highly Expert. (Five years could make a lot of difference back then!) Not a speck or instant of misplaced egg. Hokeyness is strictly avoided in spite of the emotional content - the kind of role, I assume, that made Rooney famous. The action moves smoothly, seamlessly, generating tension and resolution along realistic lines. Protagonist Shocky's school oppressors are ra-THER politically IN-correct. That would never go over today.
New Orleans Uncensored (1955)
Trouble on the Docks
Convincing story of docklands pilfering racket with actual pols playing themselves, narrated at start and finish. Lots of shots of New Orleans, not all of them flattering. There is a prolonged climax with fast pace, twists and violence starting when he kills the guy. The protagonist becomes an expert on police work when he takes his findings to the authorities.
Dillinger (1945)
Glib Attemp, Little based on Reality
Things like this are usually better if they stick more or less to known facts. In this case it's so garbled that it's difficult to tell exactly what these peoples' intentions were.
Dillinger is a cartoon character with limited social graces and seldom without some inept business or something awkward to say. It would have been nice - and seems to me particularly film-worthy - to include the part about the amazing plastic surgery that enabled him to avoid capture for a while. But then Wikipedia doesn't include that either, sticking strictly to a well known "after" (as opposed to "before") picture, to ensure implementation of their propaganda goals. Ditto this movie as to intentions.
The result is that the requisite gratuitous violence is so implausible it turns into a cartoon, about a mild-mannered guy who goes around shooting a lot of people without explanation. The criminal characters are so gaseous and dull! Except the one mentor guy, but he's not believable either, due to the stilted Affekt of almost every line and directorial detail. Of course all their names have been changed... to protect the guilty, I suppose.
In real life it was not his long-time squeeze but a hooker working for the FBI that finally lured him into the staked out movie theater. It took her about a year as I recall from reading about 10 years ago. The intentions of the present cinematic squeeze are garbled as well in this regard. (To protect the innocent?) And he didn't die in a pile of back ally garbage, but right in the middle of the sidewalk: Great, if your intentions are in the lines of gruesome noirishness.
There's certainly little that's sinister or noirish about it.
Detour (1945)
Brilliant Low-budget Devining of Noir Reality
The pace starts slowly, almost dully some might say - what with extended narrated establishing of premises and recital of boogy-woogie Brahams, and Chopin in the original - then gradually picks up, quickening in both action and suspense, and moving, but not in chronological order, toward the end. Thus with highly realistic pacing it creates in 67 minutes a strong sense of the passage of time.
There is change of venue: from that of a music club on New York's Upper West Side, to a car in nighttime transit belonging to the first unfortunate victim, then to a tiny motel room after his demise. It doesn't really get going till about the middle, when the second protagonist, apparently well known among aficionados as Noir's shrewdest femme fatale, hops in - and we're driving around in the car again, this time in daylight.
The dialogue between the two benighted stars gets inspired at several points. On moving into their somewhat cramped & stuffy furnished apartment rented on fraudulent pretenses, the one asks the other concerning the mechanized sleeping arrangements (Perhaps a Stymetz Bed?) provided in the living room: "Do you know how to use this thing?" to which the reply is: "I invented it".
This viewer finds the ending highly refreshing and original, though it was probably necessitated by restrictive censorship code of the time. Its dreary final resolution, while keeping the actual fate of the main character a mystery, cinches it.
B.F.'s Daughter (1948)
A lot better than I expected.
It may be that my nine-star rating is reactionary. I added one extra star because I thought the six that were displayed was at least one too few.) And it may be that the apparent custom of poo-pooing this movie has resulted from the government authorities of the time - or even the present - and their sympathizers, finding industialist B. F. Fulton's after dinner speech about being confined to a two-by-four room, treated like a schoolboy and "told how to run my own business" a bit over the top.
Both B. F. Fulton, played by Charles Coburn, and his daughter Polly, played by Barbara Stanwyck, along with Polly's mother, represent the rich American industrial class in this film, and are drawn far more sympathetically than members of the opposing, intellectual/moralist camp. The moralist male hero of this love-story-with-timely-political-interest (which has been ineptly described as a soap opera) is no exception, as he frequently gets what he thinks are deficient moral standards of his opponents mixed up with just being a member of the opposing camp, and tends to solve his arguments by turning tail and walking out once and for all (before returning) except once notably when Barbara tells him to stay put: so much for alleged female stereotypes.
This may be the reason Van Heflin's performance is not so well liked - because of the personality problems of the character he portrays. His friend and cohort, played by Keenan Wynn, if anything, is worse, constantly making aspersions and predictions of high import about people that have no basis in fact on his radio program "There's one good thing though, he's only on 3 days a week," quips B. F. Fulton.) though he is more honest than Heflin's character, openly admitting at one point that he consciously uses his victims - with no regard for veracity of the claims he makes about them - for his own selfish ends.
It doesn't seem there can be much argument that the characters of Polly and B. F. Fulton are not played with affection by the two celebrated actors. And that of B. F. Fulton is completely devoid of any visible selfish motive, a wholly good egg. Stanwyck has curtailed her sassier, blacker side to make way for the by-birth-and-training more milque-toasty ingenue, and does so consistently. And she's good too, one slip - a request by this aristocrat with a conscious made early in the film that a friend of her jilted erstwhile fiancé engage himself in insider trading - notwithstanding: this apparently to be interpreted as an uncharacteristic youthful indiscretion.
For the most part, the three Fulton family characters represent the epitome of noble goodness and we are taken in when Fulton senior soliloquizes the vanishing of his own breed during his last appearance. According to other reviewers here, the movie uses lines from an original J. P. Marquand novel, and the many sometimes ironic and clever turns of phrase help to ingratiate these characters, increasing the high level of believability and naturalness.
Even the scenery and music seem to be something special. (No credit is given for the music in the version I saw.) From the play of the morning light in the Fultons' Park Avenue apartment, as the little blacksmith of their whimsical parlor clock hammers out the chimes of the hour, to the unflattering contrast of oppressiveness in the heavily draped and damasked dining compartment of Polly's formal custom built mansion... From the creepily groaning nonharmonic tones derivative of Wagner's Im Treibhaus, to the more exaltant reminiscence of Tristan und Isolde (for which the former was a study) heard later on - and of course the score no doubt has more to distinguish it than these often alluded to war horses of movie music genre - special care has been taken.