July 29, 2018

ARMORED CAR ROBBERY (1950)



This sixty-seven-minute RKO Radio Pictures project is a dandy and hardly unknown to film noir geeks or fans of the lead actors. Suffice to say it is nearly flawless in execution and Charles McGraw got noticed. Naturally, there are a couple of clichés that may bring a chuckle or two from Twenty-First Century viewers. Directed by Richard Fleischer, it displays his penchant for realism with his early trademarks of location filming and attention to police procedural details. The latter point well displayed when the authorities comb the area for clues to where the robbers abandoned their getaway car. That scene is also enhanced by a lean screenplay with no wasted dialog. The cinematography is outstanding as well. The score is not memorable but at least it does not get in the way of the actors.


You do not want to get on the bad side of detective, Charles McGraw. He makes no compromises with criminals and also appears a tad weary of a daily routine of trying to apprehend them. The opening, low camera closeup of him on a phone call sets up his persona. Ruggedly handsome with a face chiseled from stone and just about as animated. He plays it exactly how his character should be. His gravel voice helped define his film destiny, though. He had no fear of competing against the likes of Danny Kaye for a musical comedy. Today, his voice and maturity may have had him auditioning with the likes of Liam Neeson.

He and fellow partner, James Flavin, are called to the less famous Wrigley Field. The one in Los Angeles used by the farm team of the Chicago Cubs. Both detectives are miffed it is another false alarm. In reality, it was William “He’s got Bette Davis eyes” Tallman who called in the fake alarm in a pre-robbery timing to discover how long it takes for the police to get there. Assuming they left on time and there was no heavy traffic to delay them, I guess.


Tallman enlists three petty criminals to help him with the armored car robbery when it stops in front of the stadium. Steve Brodie thinks an armored car robbery will not work. Risky. He says it might work if it were run by Tallman yet he only knows him by reputation. Awkward. Doug Fowley is married to Adele Jergens (above) who is in love with Tallman. Gene Evans finalizes the four losers in the robbery. The detailed robbery plans of who is where and when are not described in the film. Smartly, we discover the end result as it happens. What mastermind Tallman could not foresee is that McGraw was on patrol nearby and responded to the emergency call rather quickly. Evans pulls his sputtering jalopy purposely behind the men unloading the armored truck and fakes a look under the hood. He sets off an explosion of tear gas. In an exchange of bullets, Flavin succumbs quickly then Fowley gets seriously wounded. McGraw jumps in his car in hot pursuit of the bandits, but an evasive maneuver damages his tire. 

Tallman was adept at playing despicable criminals before he turned over a new leaf, went to law school and met Perry Mason. He has no sympathy for the mortally wounded Fowley. To help him forget this pain and give them a chance to get through a clichéd roadblock, Tallman angrily slaps his face a few times. After the officers look over their car and give them the go-ahead, Brodie cannot get the car started. A tension "device" used countless times in crime movies. Once at their hideout, Fowley, gasping for life, demands a doctor and his share of the loot. Tallman gives him a final parting gift. Three bullets. He later gives Brodie a lesson about who is boss. After punching him in the stomach, he violently takes both hands, clapping them hard against both sides of Brodie’s head, potentially rupturing his eardrums. It is shocking and perhaps the first time the violent act was used on film. But used again by the director in a John Payne crime story.


Jergens plays her usual role, though her employment changed from film to film. This time she is a burlesque queen. Brodie stops in the burlesque house in hopes of getting his money from her. McGraw is there with handcuffs and both men miss the entire performance. With no fear of the murder wrap, Brodie spills the truth about Tallman. McGraw’s young new partner, Don McQuire, volunteers to take Brodie’s place and meet “the queen.” A solid plan except Tallman knows his partner is locked up. His gun is there to meet McQuire outside the establishment. Jergen's wired car allows the detective to audibly send location points to the tailing patrol car. Tallman is suspicious of these hints and tells him to get out, whose life is then saved by Jergens, preventing Tallman from firing a second time. Or third. Or a fourth, just to be sure.


The lovebirds attempt a getaway via a chartered plane. Tallman, not happy the plane has been recalled back to the terminal, threatens the pilot at gunpoint. This is always pretty silly and Hollywood still does it. If he shoots the pilot they are going nowhere. Tallman grabs the suitcase of loot and in his panic does not see (or apparently hear) a taxiing DC-3. The suggested prop divides the cash and him up in small denominations. A happy ending for McGraw. Well, not so much, judging by the grimace on his face. The happy part is when he shares a news article with McQuire, recovering from that gunshot wound. It is all about their success in the robbery. Both officers are mentioned at the bottom of the article and as the young partner starts reading he pretends his name is so minuscule he has to get really close to the page to see it. They both laugh.

Note: For a limited role, Don McQuire (above) does a fine job. He and McGraw hit it off by the end. Today, this movie might have had a sequel based on their chemistry if the studio gambled to make more money. But things were pleasantly different in 1950.

July 14, 2018

HOMETOWN STORY (1951)



Here is a sixty-one-minute visual slice of Americana. Though well-acted and providing no lulls, the movie will never be on anyone’s bucket list. It makes a better television drama than an MGM movie. Yet it turned a small, six-figure profit from its minuscule budget. Some suggest this project is a General Motors self-promotion film. No doubt. What is more important is Louis Forbes’ opening piano score which sounds frighteningly like a depressing medical melodrama in which absorbent facial tissues will be needed. Elsewhere, the score seems lifted from a typical Fifties or Sixties sitcom with dominating flutes.

It opens with views of an All-American city below, from a landing DC-3 airliner. The downtown is a wonderful snapshot of post-war America and its quiet neighborhoods are tree-lined with white picket fences. No gas-powered lawnmowers or leaf blowers disrupt the silence. Harley-Davidson motorcycles are mostly used by patrol officers---all equipped with standard exhaust and not today's personal, noise-polluting after-market units.

Jeffrey Lynn plays a sore loser and is grumpy most of the time. A two-year Senator who was not re-elected and is quite defensive about his loss. Lynn inherits the senior editor position of the town’s newspaper and plans to use this platform for political gain. Shame. Shame. The parallels to today are obvious as Lynn starts spreading fake news about the evils of big corporations and their profits. Apparently not coming to terms with the fact that most people in a business set out to make a profit. He also attacks one industry’s dumping of pollutants in the local river system though the CEO, Donald Crisp, provides evidence their process does nothing of the kind. Lynn remains selfishly skeptical. His buddy and news reporter, Alan Hale, Jr., looking particularly handsome and oozing charm with a big smile, comes to blows with Lynn’s attacks and personal edginess.


Lynn’s seven-year fiancé—that is not a typo—Marjorie Reynolds, levels with him about why he lost the election. And maybe a wedding. Voters thought the celebrated war hero would make a difference, but they knew it was a mistake soon after pulling the lever. Ouch! Equally to my eyes and ears, Reynold's actual voice, at times, sounds like it has been dubbed. Melinda Plowman's voice (Lynn’s baby sister) has been dubbed by sixteen fingernails across a blackboard. Judging by the vast age difference between brother and sister, she was obviously a very late “surprise” to mother and father. While on a school field trip her life is spared, ironically, by a big corporation’s heavy equipment, the rapid expertise of its workers, and its available air transportation. Lynn humbly realizes he was born to run a newspaper and not people's lives with no future political ambitions. Probably. We hope.

Notes: The humorous scenes centered around Hale's attraction to Marilyn Monroe's savvy character are delightful thanks to her trademark breathy deadpan delivery. Another funny scene of camera trickery comes up later. While gazing in Monroe’s direction, without looking, Hale throws his fedora like a Frisbee behind him, across the editing room, where it lands properly on a female colleague’s head. I suspect no viewer saw that coming.

It would seem every poster then and today's DVDs gives the false impression the nearly unknown Monroe is a major characterOne might think she is the hometown story. Far from it, her scenes total about four minutes in this, her third film spot. Ray Teal had nearly as much screen time but he was not even credited. Admittedly, Teal's sweaters do not fit quite the same. And there was something about his walk. Also uncredited is the familiar face of Hugh Beaumont, feeling quite at home in an idyllic town.