Structural Failure: THE BIG STREET (RKO 1942)

When I hear the word “Runyonesque”, I think about racetrack touts, colorful Broadway denizens, dames with hearts of gold, and the like. If you want to make a Runyonesque movie, what better way than to have author Damon Runyon himself produce it, as RKO did for 1942’s THE BIG STREET. All the elements are there, the jargon, the characters, but the film suffers from abrupt shifts in tone from comedy to drama, and a totally unpleasant role for Lucille Ball . The result is an uneven movie with a real downer of an ending.

Based on Runyon’s short story “Little Pinks”, it follows the unrequited love of bus boy Augustus “Little Pinks” Pinkerton for torch singing gold digger Gloria Lyons, dubbed “Her Highness” by Pinks. Henry Fonda plays Pinks as  lovestruck, spineless sad sack, dubbing Lucy Her Highness, even though she’s thoroughly rotten to him. When she’s smacked by her gangster boyfriend Case Ables ( Barton MacLane ) down the stairs and loses the ability to walk, she still treats Pinks like shit. The two leads aren’t very happy characters, and the movie suffers because of it.

It’s Pinks who helps her the most, paying her hospital bills and willing to practically wheel her all the way to Miami (the scene they cause at the Holland Tunnel is a comic standout), yet Her Highness is just using the lowly bus boy, her only goal being to snag millionaire playboy Decatur Reed (William T. Orr, later a successful television producer for Warner Bros). I think it’s Lucy’s character that turned me off; even at the end (which I won’t spoil for those who want to watch), I didn’t have much sympathy for her. She’s a self absorbed, total bitch, especially in her treatment of those who care about her, and almost completely ruined the film for me.

The movie’s saving grace is the eccentric supporting cast that brings those trademark “Runyonesque” characters to vivid life. Ray Collins   and Sam Levene hit the bull’s-eye as a pair of erudite gamblers named Professor B and Horsethief. Eugene Pallette and Agnes Moorehead shine in the parts of Violette Shumberg and Nicely-Nicely Johnson, a “fat-and-skinny” odd couple (the Nicely-Nicely character would later pop up in GUYS & DOLLS, played this time by Stubby Kaye). Millard Mitchell   has an early role as retired hood Gentleman George. Among the other Familiar Faces around the big street you’ll find Louise Beavers, Hans Conreid, George Cleveland, Charlie Hall, Donald Kerr, Marian Martin, John Miljan, and Dewey Robinson. Ozzie Nelson and his Orchestra play in MacLane’s Miami nightclub, and look closely for Bess Flowers and a young Marie Windsor as faces in the crowd.

Director Irving Reis (THE BACHELOR AND THE BOBBY-SOXER, ALL MY SONS) had the unenviable task of balancing the bittersweet comedy-drama of Leonard Spielgass’s script, and isn’t quite up to it. Reis was fairly new in the director’s chair at the time, and those schizophrenic shifts from offbeat comical Runyonesque hoods to mean Lucy throwing shade at Fonda are quite jarring. Perhaps if director Reis had toned down Ball’s character a few notches and let Fonda lighten up a bit, I’d feel different. As it stands, I chalk it up as an interesting failure, but fans of Fonda, Ball, and Damon Runyon yarns will probably want to judge for themselves.

 

Hot in Argentina: Rita Hayworth in GILDA (Columbia 1946)

If COVER GIRL made Rita Hayworth a star, then GILDA propelled her into the stratosphere. This 1946 film noir cast Rita at her smoking hot best as the femme fatale to end ’em all. Surrounded by a Grade A cast and sumptuous sets, GILDA gives us the dark side of CASABLANCA , moved to Buenos Aires and featuring star-crossed lovers who are at lot less noble than Rick and Ilsa ever were.

“Every man I knew went to bed with Gilda… and woke up with me”, Hayworth is famously quoted as saying. Who could blame them, as Rita is absolutely stunning in this film. From our first glimpse of her, popping into view with that iconic hair flip…

…to her sultry faux striptease singing “Put the Blame on Mame”, Rita burns up the screen with her smoldering sexuality. Lines like “If I’d been a ranch,  they’d’ve named me the Bar Nothing” leave no doubt as to Gilda’s character, a woman unafraid using her feminine wiles to get her way. It’s an electrifying performance, and Hayworth plays up her erotic charms to the nth degree.

Glenn Ford  returned to the screen after his WWII stint in the Naval Reserve to play Johnny Farrell, Gilda’s ex-lover and narrator of the tale. He’s an American gambler down on his luck in Argentina who’s befriended by casino owner Ballin Mundson, becoming the latter’s right hand man. When Ballin returns from a trip with a new bride, Gilda, we know right off the bat there’s a history between the two. The sexual tension between Johnny and Gilda is so thick you could slice it with Ballin’s unique sword-cane, a weapon that becomes important to the denoument of the story.

Johnny’s job description now includes keeping close watch on Gilda, not an easy task as she flirts and frolics with every man she sets her sights on. Johnny and Gilda have an unhealthy love/hate relationship, spitting lines at each other with unbridled vitriol (Gilda to Johnny: “I hate you so much I would destroy myself to take you down with me”). Ballin’s involvement in a shady tungsten cartel results in murder, and he fakes his own death in a plane crash, but not before catching the locked in an embrace in his own bedroom.

After he’s declared dead, Ballin’s estate leaves everything to Gilda, with Johnny as the executor. Johnny takes over the cartel and marries Gilda, making her a canary in a cage out of spite. She runs away to Montevideo, but Johnny cleaverly retrieves her before she can file for divorce. The cartel is dismantled by the police, and Gilda and Johnny meet in an empty casino. She’s about to leave for America, and Johnny pleads to go with her, his defenses finally broken. Then Mundson returns from his watery grave, brandishing his sword-cane and demanding, “I want my wife back”…

Hayworth and Ford made five films together, beginning early in their careers with 1940’s THE LADY IN QUESTION, and continuing with THE LOVES OF CARMEN (’48), AFFAIR IN TRINIDAD (’52), and THE MONEY TRAP (’65), but GILDA outshines them all. Their onscreen chemistry probably had something to do with their decades-long on-and-off love affair, and it shows in the eyes of both stars. Standing out in support is suave George Macready as Ballin, one of the most elegant villains this side of George Sanders. Joseph Calleia has a pivotal part as Detective Obergon, always standing on the movie’s fringes until the ending. Also worth noting is Steven Geray as Uncle Pio, the washroom attendant loyal to Gilda and contemptuous of Johnny, calling him a “peasant”. Familiar Faces standing in the shadows are Joe Sawyer , Gerald Mohr, Symona Boniface, Eduardo Cianelli , Ludwig Donath, Bess Flowers (naturally!), John Tyrell , and Phillip Van Zandt.

Marion Parsonnett‘s biting, sophisticated script (with an uncredited assist from Ben Hecht) surprisingly made it through the censors, given the era. Vidor’s direction is enhanced by Rudolph Mate’s brooding chiaroscuro photography. The costumes for Rita designed by Jean Louis make Rita luscious even in black and white, especially in the musical numbers “Put the Blame on Mame” and “Amore Mio”, a two-piece outfit showing off her slinky hip-wiggle. GILDA is an indisputable classic of film noir and highlights Rita Hayworth at the peak of her movie-star power. What more could you ask for… go watch it!

Small But Powerful: HITLER’S MADMAN (MGM 1943)

Culver City’s MGM “dream factory” and Gower Gulch’s PRC were miles apart both literally and figuratively.  Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer boasted “more stars than there are in heaven”, while tiny Producer’s Releasing Corporation films starred faded names like Neil Hamilton, Harry Langdon, Bela Lugosi , and Anna May Wong. MGM films featured lavish, opulent sets; PRC’s cardboard walls looked like they would fall over if an actor sneezed. Poverty Row PRC movies were dark and grainy; MGM created glossy, gorgeous Technicolor productions. MGM specialized in big budget extravaganzas, whereas PRC rarely spent more than $1.98. Miles apart – so why did major studio MGM purchase and release a movie originally made for minor PRC, HITLER’S MADMAN?

For one thing, it’s a damn good film, and an important one as well. Based on the true-life atrocity of the destruction of Lidice, Czechoslovakia on June 10, 1942 after the assassination of Nazi Reichsprotektor Reinhardt Heydrich, known as “The Hangman of Prague”, HITLER’S MADMAN was produced with loving care by German exile Seymour Nebenzal, the influential producer of Fritz Lang’s M (1931) and THE TESTAMENT OF DR. MABUSE (1933). Nebenzal was working as an independent producer for PRC at the time, and for one of their films it certainly has a big-budget look and feel; for MGM however, it looks made for the bottom half of a double feature.

Another German ex-pat made his directing debut with HITLER’S MADMAN: Douglas Sirk, later widely praised for his Technicolor 50’s melodramas like MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION, ALL THAT HEAVEN ALLOWS, WRITTEN ON THE WIND, and IMITATION OF LIFE. Sirk’s style here is more film noir than 50’s kitsch, thanks in great part to DP Jack Greenhalgh… or is it? Another German refugee, Eugen Schufftan , is credited as “Technical Adviser”. Schufftan was one of Germany’s greatest cinematographers, working with all the legends of cinema in his native land. He was DP on Lang’s METROPOLIS and Gance’s NAPOLEON, and shot films for European giants like Pabst, Ophuls, Siodmak, and Zinnemann. But his U.S. status at the time was such that he couldn’t join the cinematographer’s union, so no DP credit allowed. The same thing happened on Edgar G. Ulmer’s BLUEBEARD (1944); Jockey Feindel got the screen credit, while Schufftan is listed as “Production Design”. Schufftan would later be unionized, and received an Oscar for 1962’s THE HUSTLER.

The screenplay by Peretz Hirschbein, Melvin Levy, and Doris Malloy (with an uncredited assist from Ulmer) is based somewhat on Edna St. Vincent Millay’s famous poem “The Murder of Lidice”. This fictionalized account tells of Karel Vavra, one of six parachuted into Czechoslovakia by the RAF to stir up support for the underground movement, bringing a message of hope and resistance to the downtrodden people. Karel is reunited with his lover Jarmilla Hanka , whose father Jan is wary of resistance, preaching patience and pacifism. When rabble-rouser Bartonek is arrested under the charge of “sabotage” on Heydrich’s orders, Jan goes with the man’s wife to plead with the Nazi Mayor Bauer. Their pleas fall on deaf ears; Bartonek returns home in a pine box.

Heydrich’s car, travelling on official business, is slowed down at Lidice because of a religious festival being held in the town. Angered by this foolishness, the Nazi gets out and begins to scold the villagers. Father Cemlanik turns the other cheek, only to receive a slap from Heydrich. His faith is tested as Heydrich tries to provoke him, and when the Reichsprotektor uses a sacred cloth to wipe the dust off his boots, Cemlanik can stand no more. Charging at Heydrich, the priest is shot dead in the street. Jan does an about-face and pledges to kill Heydrich, with aid from Karel and Jarmilla. They ambush his auto on his return, mortally wounding “The Hangman”. SS Leader Himmler places the call to Hitler himself as Heydrich dies. Der Fuhrer gives him a grim order: Lidice is to be “razed to the ground, her name to be eradicated from every signpost… all male inhabitants over 16 years of age will be shot, all women interred in concentration camps, all children taken from their mothers and placed in correctional institutions”.

Let’s take a moment to praise John Carradine’s performance as Reinhardt Heydrich. Unlike his hammy “mad doctor” roles, Carradine gives a restrained portrayal of pure evil. Carradine has ice water running through his veins, visiting a university teaching intellectualism (“Intellect is poison”, he tells them matter-of-factly), then rounding up the female students to “entertain” the brave German soldiers at the Russian Front, making him little more than a lowly pimp. He shows no remorse when one of the girls, rather than be enslaved, jumps out a window to her death. Even on his deathbed, Heydrich is evil until the end: “I should have killed all of them, not 30 a day, 300… 3,000”. John Carradine is absolutely chilling as Reinholdt Heydrich, scarier here than in any of his horror roles, and the performance is on a par with his work in John Ford’s STAGECOACH and THE GRAPES OF WRATH.

The rest of the cast amounts to what would’ve been an all-star movie by PRC standards. Universal leading man Alan Curtis (, BUCK PRIVATES,   PHANTOM LADY ) plays Karel, while former Paramount starlet Patricia Morison (who’s still alive as of this writing at age 102!) is Jarmilla. Her father Jan is Ralph Morgan, a PRC regular whose brother Frank (THE WIZARD OF OZ), worked for MGM. A round of applause goes out to comic actor Edgar Kennedy  in a rare dramatic role as Nepomuk, a hermit who lives in the woods. We’re never sure whose side Nepomuk’s on until the ambush on Heydrich when he aids the rebels. He also leads the men of Lidice in singing the Czech National Anthem as they’re lined up to be killed in a stirring scene, certainly Kennedy’s finest screen hour.

Ludwig Stossel is the Nazi Mayor Bauer, efficient and loyal to the party. He’s proud of his two sons – and gets word they’ve both been killed at the Russian Front. His wife Magda (Johanna Hofer) goes to pray at the village church shortly after Father Cemlanik is murdered, and meets Jan there. The scene reminded me of THE FIGHTING SULLIVANS , told from the German point of view. Cemlanik himself is played by Al Shean, formerly of the vaudeville duo Gallagher & Shean (and uncle of the The Marx Brothers! ). Others in the fine supporting cast are Howard Freeman (Himmler), Ava Gardner   (uncredited as one of the university students), Frank Hagney, Victor Killian, Vicky Lane, Michael Mark, Tully Marshall, Elizabeth Russell (heartbreaking as Mrs. Bartonek), Peter van Eyck, Blanche Yurka (Mrs. Hanka), and I’d swear I recognized Leon Askin (Gen. Burkhalter of HOGAN’S HEROES) as a Nazi, but he’s not listed on IMDb. Do any sharp-eyed readers know if it’s him?

This shocking, well-made film would’ve probably fallen into obscurity like many PRC movies if not for MGM. As it stands, Fritz Lang’s HANGMEN MUST DIE, released in March of ’43, is the better known film version of the story of Lidice. HITLER’S MADMAN was released five months later, and though it’s definitely low-budget, it’s a polished little gem, thanks in large part to the efforts of Nebenzal, Sirk, Schufftan, and John Carradine. The story of Lidice is not to be forgotten, a tragedy of human suffering and human evil, and I urge you Dear Readers to watch it as soon as possible.

A MEMORIAL TO THE MURDERED CHILDREN OF LIDICE STILL STANDS TODAY. NEVER FORGET.  

Happy Birthday Peter Lorre: THE FACE BEHIND THE MASK (Columbia 1941)

In honor of Cracked Rear Viewer’s second anniversary, I’m re-presenting my first post from June 26, 2015. I’ve re-edited it and added some pictures, something I didn’t know how to do at first. My, how times change! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this look at an early noir classic. (Coincidentally, this is also Mr. Lorre’s birthday!)

The sinister star Peter Lorre was born in Hungary on June 26, 1904. He became a big screen sensation as the child killer in Fritz Lang’s German classic M (1931), and like many Jews in Germany at the time, fled the Nazi regime, landing in Britain in 1933. Lorre worked with Alfred Hitchcock there in the original THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH, then immigrated to America, starring in films like MAD LOVE  , CRIME AND PUNISHMENT, and the Mr. Moto series. In 1940, the actor starred in what many consider the first film noir, STRANGER ON THE THIRD FLOOR. The next year Lorre appeared in another early noir, THE FACE BEHIND THE MASK, directed by the underrated Frenchman Robert Florey. In it Lorre plays a young Hungarian immigrant like himself, only under much, much different circumstances.

Janos Szabo has come to America to find work and live the American dream. He’s befriended by police Lt. O’Hara ( Don Beddoe ), who buys the naïve newcomer a five dollar lunch and directs him to the Excelsior Palace, a low rent hotel. When another border’s negligence causes the joint to go up in flames, Janos is trapped inside, and suffers a horrible disfigurement.

O’Hara feels responsible for the poor guy’s plight and writes a message on one of his calling cards for Janos to contact him when he’s released from the hospital. Now unable to find work due to his terribly scarred visage, Janos goes to the waterfront, contemplating suicide. He meets up with a petty crook named Dinky, who takes a liking to Janos. Dinky has a safe cracking job lined up but falls ill, and asks Janos to take his place. The Hungarian, good with his hands, takes care of business. When Dinky’s former comrades show up wanting to know why they weren’t in on the score, the four decide to form a crime gang, with Janos (now nicknamed Johnny) as the ringleader. A crime wave ensues, baffling the police, and putting O’Hara under pressure to end the larcenous spree quickly as possible.

Janos wants the illicit dough so he can have plastic surgery and restore his features. A rubber mask is made from his passport photo for him to wear until the doctor returns. When the doc (Frank Reicher, KING KONG’s   Captain Englehorn)  finally does see Janos, he informs him the facial nerves have suffered too much damage, and it would take fifteen years before any progress could be made!

Disheartened, Janos leaves the doctor’s office, where he (literally) bumps into Helen Williams. Helen is blind, but she can sense the goodness still inside the scarred master criminal. Eventually, Janos comes clean to her about his face, but not his illegal activities. Helen is played by the beautiful Evelyn Keyes , best known as “Scarlet O’Hara’s Younger Sister” (the name of her autobiography) in GONE WITH THE WIND.

Now in love with Helen, and with plenty of money stashed away, Janos decides to leave his life of crime behind and settle down in the country. This doesn’t sit well with his former cronies, especially Jeff, the gang’s new leader. When the cop’s calling card (remember?) is found in Janos’s old desk, they fear their former boss has turned stool pigeon. The gang beats and tortures Dinky, who knows Janos’s whereabouts, and force him to spill the beans. Jeff and the crew pay a visit to Janos and his new bride, and while Jeff delivers a warning, the gang plants a bomb in his car, connected to the radio. Dinky gets dumped to the side of the road, badly beaten and shot, but manages to get to a phone and warn Janos. But it’s too late. While Helen’s unpacking the car, she wants to hear some music, turns on the radio, and KA-BOOM! She sadly dies in Janos’s arms.

Dinky’s still alive though, and tells Janos the gang has chartered a plane and are going on the lam. They take to the air and head west, unaware that Janos has ambushed the pilot and is flying the plane. He lands them smack in the middle of the Arizona desert and tells them he’s stranding them all there to die a slow, painful death. Soon after, O’Hara gets a hot tip and flies west to discover a gruesome tableau. The gang members are all dead, including Janos, who’s been tied to the plane’s wing. O’Hara finds an explanation note in his little friend’s pocket, along with the five bucks for the lunch O’Hara bought him long ago.

Lorre is superb as a man trapped in circumstances beyond his control, showing his wide range of emotion as an actor. Keyes is also good as the doomed Helen, proving she would’ve been a much bigger star with better roles. THE FACE BEHIND THE MASK features plenty of Familiar Faces from Columbia’s roster of contract players, including George E. Stone , Cy Schindell, John Tyrell , and George McKay. (The name Janos, by the way, was obviously inspired from the Roman god Janus, always depicted with two faces!) Peter Lorre went on to become one of the screen’s busiest character actors, appearing in classics like THE MALTESE FALCON, CASABLANCA , THREE STRANGERS, 20,000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA , and many, many more. He ended his career working alongside Vincent Price in a string of Roger Corman/Edgar Allen Poe thrillers before succumbing to a stroke on March 23, 1964 at age 59. He left a legacy of fantastic film work, and THE FACE BEHIND THE MASK gave him one of his best starring roles. Fans of Lorre and those who want to see the beginnings of what became known as film noir will want to watch this gripping little crime drama. Happy birthday, Mr. Lorre!

Marlowe at the Movies Returns!: Bogie & Bacall in THE BIG SLEEP (Warner Brothers 1946)

It’s been a long time since we last visited with Raymond Chandler’s fictional “knight-errant”, PI Philip Marlowe. Way too long, so let’s take a look at THE BIG SLEEP, starring Humphrey Bogart as the definitive screen Marlowe. This 1946 Howard Hawks film was a follow-up to 1944’s hit TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT, which introduced audiences (and Bogie) to luscious Lauren Bacall . The pair was dynamite together onscreen, and off as well, marrying a year later. Their May/December romance was one of Hollywood’s greatest love stories, lasting until Bogart’s death from cancer in 1957.

For me to try and explain the plot here would be futile, as it takes more twists and turns than a “Balinese belly dancer”. Marlowe is hired by elderly General Sternwood, whose sexy young daughter Carmen is being blackmailed. The General’s other daughter Vivien, a sexy divorcee, is also in trouble. This takes Our Man Marlowe through a maze involving murder, money, and sexy dames by the truckload, all of whom seem to want the sleuth. It’s tough to tell all the players without a scorecard, but that doesn’t really matter. Hawks’ take on Chandler is all about noir style, and the film has it in spades! The hard-boiled, hard-bitten dialog by screenwriters William Faulkner, Jules Furthman , and Leigh Brackett is delivered in that trademark “rat-a-tat” Warner Brothers style by the cast, the dark, moody photography by Sidney Hickox perfectly captures the noir world inhabited by the characters, the studio-bound fog-shrouded streets look marvelous, and everybody’s hiding some sort of secret. Even the opening credits literally scream noir, with Bogie and Bacall smoking cigarettes in silhouette, then placing the burning butts in an ashtray as Max Steiner’s sweeping music plays under the credits.

THE BIG SLEEP was filmed in 1945, but when TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT lit up the screen (and the box office) like a comet, the studio decided to take advantage of its newfound star team and shoot additional scenes featuring Bogie and Bacall. The couple’s pairing was steamier than General Sternwood’s orchid-filled hothouse, their sexually charged banter flowing freer than bootleg gin (check out their “horse racing” metaphors for example!).  I loved the way Bogart tugs at his ear whenever he’s in deep thought, and Bacall’s still sexiness covers the fact she’s fairly new to the acting game at this point in her career. Tongues are placed firmly in cheek as they trade repartee, and if their first film together established them as a force to be reckoned with, THE BIG SLEEP certainly seals the deal.

The supporting cast is more than up to the task of keeping up with Bogie and Bacall’s star power. Twenty year old Martha Vickers (whose noir bona fides include RUTHLESS, THE BIG BLUFF, and THE BURGLAR) is the sexy (there’s that word again!) Carmen, a babyish bimbo constantly biting her thumb like a pacifier (or more likely, an oral fixation!). John Ridgley (who appeared with Bogart on eleven other occasions) has the pivotal role of gambling joint owner Eddie Mars. You can’t have a film noir without inviting Elisha Cook Jr. to the party, and he’s here in a small role as (what else?) a weasel trying to sell Marlowe some information. Young Dorothy Malone made a splash as a book store owner sharing rye (and whatever else gets left to the imagination!) with the shamus. Cowboy star Bob Steele plays ice-cold killer Canino, an archetype he’d return to in Bogart’s 1951 THE ENFORCER. Familiar Faces dotting the dark landscape include Trevor Bardette , Tanis Chandler (no relation to Raymond!), Joseph Crehan, Bess Flowers , Louis Jean Heydt, Peggy Knudsen, Regis Toomey (as Marlowe’s cop friend), Theodore von Eltz, and Ben Welden.

Howard Hawks mastered any film genre he worked in, from screwball comedy (HIS GIRL FRIDAY) to wild Western ( RIO BRAVO ), during his fifty-four year Hollywood career. In THE BIG SLEEP, Hawks injects the dark world of film noir with his personal artistic vision, and paints a black & white masterpiece with shadows and light. Bogart inhabits the character of Philip Marlowe like a well-worn trench coat, Bacall is the quintessential Hawks “hard dame”, and the overlapping staccato dialog is filled with a sly, sexy sense of humor. Don’t worry about following the story, just sit back and enjoy Hawks and his stars at the top of their game!

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Special Memorial Day Edition: THE FIGHTING SULLIVANS (20th Century-Fox 1944)

War is hell, not only on the participants, but on those left home waiting for word on their loved ones, dreading the inevitable. THE FIGHTING SULLIVANS is based on the true story of five brothers who served and died together as shipmates, and their family. It’s a story of patriotism, of grief and loss, and its penultimate moment will rip your heart out. Finally, it’s an American story.

The Sullivans are a proud, close-knit Irish Catholic family living in Waterloo, Iowa. Patriarch Tom (played by Thomas Mitchell ) is a loyal railroad man whose five sons (George, Frank, Joe, Matt, and Al) climb the water tower every day to wave goodbye as the train pulls out. Mother Alleta (Selena Royale) keeps the family fires burning, with the help of daughter Gen. The scrappy brothers are a pint-sized version of the Dead End Kids, getting into mischief like a Donnybrook with neighborhood kids on little Al’s (future Disney star Bobby Driscoll ) First Communion day, getting caught smoking corn silk in the woodshed (Pop’s solution is to give them each a real cigar, causing the boys to throw up), and sailing on the lake in a leaky vessel that capsizes (foreshadowing things to come). Despite the boy’s boisterous nature and their various misadventures, the Sullivan household is filled with warmth and love.

Time marches on, and the boys are now in their twenties. Al, the youngest, surprises the family by marrying sweet-as-pie Katherine Mary (a young Anne Baxter), and presenting the Sullivans with their first grandbaby. One winter’s day, news comes over the radio: “The Japs bombed Pearl Harbor!” While Mom phones a local woman whose son was stationed on the U.S.S Arizona, the brothers decide then and there to join the Navy. Brother Al feels left out, having a wife and baby to look after, until brave Katherine Mary reluctantly talks him into signing up. Tom and Alleta proudly display a flag with five stars in their window.

The boys are all together on the U.S.S. Juneau off the Solomon Islands, and get their first taste of action. George is wounded during the raging battle, and the ship is fatally hit. Ordered to abandon ship, the Sullivans won’t leave without taking George, who’s in sick bay. In the midst of all this chaos, the screen abruptly turns to black.

We’re back home in Iowa, where the Sulivans get a visit from Cmdr. Robinson (Ward Bond).  He’s the bearer of bad news, and when Alleta asks which of her sons is gone, he solemnly replies: “All five”. Gen and Katherine Mary leave the room in tears, while Alleta sits stoically, her face in shock. Tom hears the train whistle blow and excuses himself, dutifully making the slow walk to work in silence, his face a mask of anguish and torment, his head bowed low. He boards the train as it steadily moves past the tower, looking up as if expecting to see his children there one more time. He gives it a small salute as he passes before finally breaking down in tears. It is one of the most heart wrenching scenes in cinema, and beautifully underplayed by Mitchell.

The real five Sullivan brothers (left to right) Joe, Frank, Al, Matt, and George

What really happened to the five Sullivan brothers? On November 13, 1942, the Juneau sank after being hit by a Japanese torpedo. Navy brass ordered all ships in the vicinity to leave and avoid any further Japanese submarine strikes. Frank, Joe, and Matt were all killed instantly. Al, adrift in the ocean, drowned the following day. Eldest brother George survived four or five days on a life raft but, grief-stricken and delirious from hypernatremia (high salt content in the blood), jumped overboard. The parents were not informed until Alleta wrote a letter to FDR. On January 12, 1943, three Naval officials knocked on the door of the Sullivan home to relay the bad news: “All five”.

Today we celebrate the life and legacy of those brave souls who fought and died in service to our country and our way of life. Brave souls like George, Frank, Joe, Matt, and Al Sullivan. We salute their courage and the sacrifices they made, yet let’s not forget the loved ones left behind, and the sacrifices they made as well. Whether you’re chowing on hot dogs and cheeseburgers at a family cookout, or cheering at your local parade, or just kicking back and watching a ballgame, take a moment today to reflect on those who gave all in defense of freedom. And to maybe say a prayer for the loved ones left behind.

(This post is respectfully dedicated to the brave men and women who gave their lives to the ideals of Freedom and Liberty)

 

She Was Never Lovelier: Rita Hayworth in COVER GIRL (Columbia 1944)

Bright, bold, and bouncy, COVER GIRL was a breakthrough film for both Rita Hayworth and Gene Kelly. Sultry, redheaded Rita had been kicking around Hollywood for ten years before Columbia Pictures gave her this star-making vehicle, while Kelly, on loan from MGM, was given free rein to create the memorable dance sequences. Throw in the comedic talents of Phil Silvers   and Eve Arden , plus a bevy of beauties and songs by Jerome Kern and Ira Gershwin, and you have what very well may be the quintessential 40’s musical.

Rusty Parker (Rita) is a hoofer at Danny McGuire’s (Kelly) joint in Brooklyn (where else?). She enters a contest sponsored by Vanity Magazine to find a new cover girl for their 50th anniversary issue. Editor John Coudair ( Otto Kruger ) spots her and is reminded of the girl he once loved and lost (who turns out to have been Rusty’s grandmother, as flashbacks tell us), and immediately signs her up, despite protests from his Gal Friday “Stonewall” Jackson (Arden). Romantic complications ensue when Broadway impresario Noah Wheaton ( Lee Bowman ) falls for her and wants to take her away from Danny. After speaking with Coudair, Danny doesn’t want to stand in her way, and concocts a rift between them so Rusty will quit his nightclub. Wheaton is about to marry Rusty, but Danny’s loyal pal Genius (Silvers) finds a means to put a stop to it. Rusty realizes she belongs with Danny, and our two lovers are reunited.

Yes, it’s your standard “boy meets girl/boy loses girl/boy regains girl” plotline, used as a framework to hang the musical numbers on, but done with buckets full of style and glamour. At long last, Rita Hayworth became a superstar after being groomed in films like THE STRAWBERRY BLONDE, BLOOD & SAND, and two with Fred Astaire (YOU’LL NEVER GET RICH, YOU WERE NEVER LOVELIER) that showcased her dancing skills. Her beauty and charms were put front and center in COVER GIRL (though her singing voice was dubbed by Martha Mears), in numbers like “Put Me to the Test”, an energetic, athletic tap duet with Kelly; “Long Ago (and Far Away)”, the Oscar-nominated song featuring a romantic dance by the duo; and the showstopping “Cover Girl”, with a host of cover girls from famous mags from the 40’s (Cosmo, McCall’s, Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, Glamour, Redbook, Liberty, Look, et al) followed by gorgeous Rita outshining them all, dancing with a male chorus up a winding staircase as glitter rains down on them all. It’s sheer 40’s movie magic!

Gene Kelly had only made three pictures prior to COVER GIRL, but he was already an established Broadway star. Columbia promised him a free hand in the film’s choreography, and Kelly didn’t disappoint. He, Rita, and Silvers have a habit (in the movie) of going to Joe’s Place every Friday and ordering plates of oysters (or “ersters” as proprietor Ed Brophy calls them, laying on the Brooklynese thick), looking for an elusive pearl that will symbolize a big breaks a’comin’. The trio then break into “Make Way for Tomorrow”, a happy number that has them dancing their way down the streets of Brooklyn, until meeting up with a questioning cop (foreshadowing Kelly’s signature SINGIN’ IN THE RAIN dance). The song is reprised by Kelly and Silvers as a jazzy comic number, but Kelly has a big solo spot in the “Alter-Ego Dance”, a trick-photography enhanced production that finds Kelly, beside himself over Rita, dancing with his superimposed self! It was this athletic dance that made his home studio MGM sit up and take notice, leading to Kelly doing all the choreography in his films, beginning with ANCHORS AWEIGH .

If Rita Hayworth was never lovelier here, then Eve Arden was never funnier as the sarcastic, wisecracking Jackson. Her reactions to Rita’s first “animated” audition are priceless, as are her later responses backstage at Danny’s. Phil Silvers is given plenty of comic material as Genius, including a satirical solo song “Who’s Complaining”, spoofing wartime rationing. Phil’s manic comedy brightens the film, and he gets to show off his song-and-dance skills too, with more than a little help from Kelly and Hayworth.

The stylish and terribly underrated director Charles Vidor directs a witty script  (laced with some sly sexual innuendos) by Virginia Van Upp. Vidor would later go on to direct Rita in two of her best, GILDA and THE LOVES OF CARMEN. And you want Familiar Faces, COVER GIRL has ’em by the score! Besides those already mentioned, you’ve got Jess Barker (as the young Kruger during the flashback scenes), Billy Benedict Curt Bois , Leslie Brooks, Stanley Clements, Anita Colby , Jinx Falkenburg (as herself), Thurston Hall , Milton Kibbee, perennial drunk Jack Norton Barbara Pepper , Jack Rice, John Tyrrell, a very young Shelley Winters , and Constance Worth.

COVER GIRL exudes the kind of  Hollywood glitz and glamour you rarely find anymore, made stars out of Rita Hayworth and Gene Kelly, and is one of the best musicals made in the Fabulous 40’s. Loaded with talent at every position, it’s a must-see for lovers of classic movies.