PICKUP ON SOUTH STREET (1953)

This Cold War spy film, co-written and directed by Samuel Fuller for 20th Century Fox earned modest success at the box office from a tight budget. With great pacing and solid performances, the film is nicely supported by a score that is, at times, elaborately arranged by the significant film composer, Leigh Harline. In a general sense, the film can be distasteful and made it controversial in its day. Over the years since, reading between the screenplay lines, many Twenty-First Century critics have placed the film on a pedestal for those very same reasons. In contrast, moviegoers of the era were able to quickly categorize the film upon exiting the theater. And their reviews were mixed. Reviews were decidedly one-sided for Fuller's remake in 1967. A full-color disaster starring a dull James Brolin and a miscast Jacqueline Bisset made the original screenplay a talk-fest of major proportions, lacking any style or intrigue. 

The film opens on a crowded New York City subway train as Government agent, Willis Bouchey, has his eyes trained on Jean Peters, whose dark lipstick, false eyelashes and dress convey her persona. Also sandwiched between them is a professional pickpocket, Richard Widmark, who deftly steals Peters' wallet during the jostling ride. Neither knows the vital contents inside. Widmark just hopes to inherit some cash or jewels. Peters' ex-boyfriend, Richard Kiley, has told her the wallet contains stolen business secrets, unaware that she has naively gotten herself wrapped up in a Communist plot. Widmark persistently denies he stole any microfilm but the detectives, sensing he is not on the level, offer him a deal to clear his record if he hands it over.

A scoundrel living in a wooden shack along the New York harbor, Widmark is not exactly living on easy street in his one-room “clubhouse.” He does have a nifty winch system he can raise and lower to retrieve his chilled beer. Cleverly hidden in a false bottom of his “beer box” is his plastic-wrapped safe for his “take-home pay.” Always nicely attired with plenty of confidence, surely he lives elsewhere. He ends up being somewhat of a likable chap despite his cocky, aberrant behavior. He soon discovers the microfilm's national significance. 

For most of her roles, seemingly in the same wardrobe, I can only take Thelma Ritter (above) in small doses. Her scenes here are actually that. Here she again plays the savvy, wiseacre informant to the police. A knowledge she has accrued since childhood, I gather, as a school's classroom was either not available or school was just not her thing. She knows the crime underbelly better than the police. She is called in to identify the pickpocket's style based on Bouchey's observations. A mugshot quickly pinpoints Widmark. Her value to the police department has deadly consequences, however.

Kiley demands Peters get the microfilm from Widmark as only she can. Thinking he has an ace up his sleeve, Widmark plans to seek a huge cash reward for the film. But Kiley's plan goes awry as Peters takes his place. Upon her return Kiley finds a key film frame missing. He takes his anger out on her. Time being critical, Communist agents order Kiley to deliver the film as is. Recognizing Kiley from his earlier attempted visit, Widmark tails him onto the subway train where he pickpockets his handgun. The film exchange is witnessed in a subway station restroom then Widmark chases Kiley through the subway for the film's climax.

Note: Jean Peters sells this performance of a woman who has lived off the streets most of her life, earning a “living” as needed. Like Ritter, she has connections. Unlike Ritter, she is on the opposite end of the visual spectrum. She has never known real respect or unconditional love but Widmark makes an attempt. In the early scenes, with an airy dress more suited for the beach, it is not exactly what June Cleaver would ever consider. I cannot imagine another actress who could fill this part as well. If ten years younger, perhaps Ida Lupino. The other female options of the era would either have been too sophisticated or too overt.

THE GIRL WHO DARED (1944)

This unmistakably B-movie with a confusing title was produced by Republic Pictures to tell the harrowing weekend tale about a large cast arriving at a mansion to argue and accuse one another of murder. A second plot concerns stolen radium which may be easy to find in all the shadowy darkness. This well-performed mystery was directed by the Western matinee staple, Howard Bretherton, who would end his directing career with two television episodes of, The Adventures of Superman. This could be the only film with two future DC Comics characters. See my note below. It is a bit confusing to keep the character names straight to say nothing of the twin ladies who swap clothes. Who is related to whom or how these people seem to know each other takes a while to unravel. You will witness the ever-present shadowy figures, lightning, thunder, a pair of hands that clip telephone wires, and women who faint easily while a drink of water is offered to revive them. Frankly, I would consult a physician about the fainting spells. The levity is provided by the butler, Willie Best. Highly respected in the business and one of the hardest-working character actors of Hollywood's golden era. 

The opening is somewhat clever. First, the background image under the opening credits is a skull and crossbones symbol. When the credits fade, the camera zooms out to reveal it to be part of a personal invitation as it is being signed. Secondly, brother and sister, Kirk Alyn and Lorna Gray stop at a service station with minor car trouble. Upper crust Alyn impatiently yells at the lowly mechanic to “look” at the engine, it has a “bad miss” in it. The guy in the overalls, Peter Cookson, is the assumed mechanic. He overhears their party destination and then informs them the engine “looks” like it will need more time to fix. They accept his offer to drive them to the party then he returns to the station, removes the overalls, and thanks the lazy station owner for the use of them to change his own tire. 

John Hamilton and his on-screen wife are hosting a weekend party that has been all the rage. At least they think so. One of those events you know comes around every year in which you dread an invitation but feel you have to accept. The planned main event—the only event—is to have their six guests experience the ghost of a sunken pirate ship that appears annually, late at night, right on cue. Like teenagers on a scavenger hunt, everyone gets into their rain slicker and hikes amid lightning and thunder to Heron Point. Off in the distance is Hamilton’s theatrics. To make sure the guests sleep well, he later tells them the ghost was not real, just a device he created for the annual party (yay). Over the years one would think word had gotten around about this charade. Especially as Hamilton says no one comes up here except by invitation. The “ghost thing” quickly wears thin as one cast member is murdered before returning to the house. Then another, later on.

Cookson returns and removes the distributors from all the guest’s sedans, not allowing anyone to escape. When greeted at the door, it is not long before he sounds like the guy in control. No one questions “the mechanic” or why he is interested in what goes on at the ostentatious house. After everyone discovers he is no longer in the house, they assume he is the murderer. But he has better things to do with his time. Find stolen radium. It is at this point I assumed Gray is the “girl who dared” carry a handgun loaned to her by her cousin, Hamilton, for safety. She is not afraid to point it, finding Cookson twirling around in the woods with what appears to be a nightclub waitress’s cigar and cigarette display case, but with knobs and lights, supported by a strap around his neck. My initial interest would have been about that case but she ignores that and accuses him of murder and...well...walking around funny. She learns that Cookson is actually an insurance detective and (Missy) he knows how to use his radium detecting equipment. Before returning to the house they discover a secret tunnel and the dead bodies. The ending wrap-up is done in a whirlwind fashion, so you should probably take notes throughout the movie.

Note: There were many atmospheric, house ghost movies during this decade. One may wonder about their constant appeal but guess it was an escape from the war. At only fifty-five minutes, it made for a shorter evening for moviegoers. A likable movie to discuss around the office water cooler or cigarette machine on a Monday. Kirk Alyn continued to act into the 1980s but will always be remembered as the first actor to play Superman. The dependable, low-tier actor, John Hamilton, ended his career a decade later famously as editor of the Daily Planet on television’s, The Adventures of Superman series.

FLIGHT TO HONG KONG (1956)

This budgeted black-and-white crime drama was directed and produced by Joseph M. Newman of, This Island Earth, fame. Newman finished his career in television. There are no dull moments in this eighty-eight-minute film as it leaps from, as one poster puts it, the “sin-capitals of the world” from Hong Kong to Tangiers, Macao, Tokyo, and San Francisco in an effort to keep the lead actor in business and alive. A Sabre Productions film, it was formed by associate producer, Victor Orsatti, and distributed by United Artists. Orsatti would later join Rory Calhoun to help form Rorvic Productions. The forgettable music score is composed by Albert "B-movie" Glasser. In mock-documentary fashion, the film initially opens with a British officer explaining the worldwide effort to bring crime syndicates to justice. Not a bad film, just a quickly forgotten one. But it is well cast and acted, with Calhoun a charming scoundrel. Unfortunately, the dialogue was obtained from a folder marked, “Movie Clichés.”

Handsome and self-confident, Calhoun is a lady magnet. No one knows this better than himself. He comes off as a respectable businessman in the skeptical “import-export” business on his flight to Hong Kong. That is what he tells his fellow passenger, the equally charming, Barbara Rush, as a bestselling author. They hit it off like two college seniors who imagine each might be “the one.” The airliner is transporting industrial diamonds and is hijacked for this very reason. This comes as no surprise to Calhoun, the mastermind behind it. The plane is forced to land on an abandoned runway, totally disrupting everyone's dinner plans. In subsequent happenstances, when he and Rush meet, Calhoun is mysteriously called away on “business.” Unsuspecting, he becomes the central character for her next novel. Calhoun becomes more undependable by the week which is no surprise to his long-time girlfriend, Delores Donlon.

No longer working on his own, Calhoun has become an operative for a crime cartel. Things have gone swimmingly for him, but there is hanzi on the wall that his carefree life may be hampered by his personal elimination. His fellow operative, Pat Conway, would like nothing better. With Calhoun's confidence at an all-time high, he decides to freelance. Never do that to the boss of a crime syndicate. Calhoun's fear and desperation increase as the film progresses. He fakes his own kidnapping, then double-crosses the syndicate in a savvy display of violence by rigging a ceiling fan with a grenade taped to the top of each blade. When the fan is turned on, the connected string tightens and sets off the mortal blasts. He is assumed dead among the gang members. Calhoun departs with an alias and a million dollars in diamonds. Paraphrasing Mark Twain, the report of Calhoun's demise has been highly exaggerated.

Constantly on the run, he racks up a lot of frequent flier miles and pockets full of airline peanuts. An entire year later he tracks down Rush in San Francisco and crashes a party thrown by her publisher on behalf of her latest book success, "The Calhoun Story." In an understatement, she is surprised. Especially by his acknowledgment that he has a new identity. He thought she would find that pretty cool. To his surprise, she has moved on with someone else. Personally embarrassed, Calhoun storms off, wandering the streets of San Francisco in search of a safety plan as the gangsters close in. A loyal friend gets him passage on a steamer back to Hong Kong. He contacts his life-long mentor, played by Soo Yong, and also reunites with Donlon. Calhoun's realization that his diamond-filled briefcase has brought nothing but trouble, he attempts to give it back to Conway and walk free. Knowing what he knows, however, they cannot let him go “unattended.”

Note: One of my old movie pet peeves is transportation continuity. Airliners seem to provide the most problems. Low-budget films are notorious offenders. Accessing ideal stock footage can be understandably difficult or expensive. However, I do not understand why it happened so frequently. Padding the film's length perhaps. In most cases, a transitional scene to another location would suffice. These editing details are sometimes blatantly obvious. The poor continuity in this film is a good example. Under the opening titles, we are witness to stock footage of a Pan American Stratocruiser in flight and its landing. The film's director takes over to finish the journey from Tokyo to Hong Kong on a fictitious airline called, “East Asiatic Airways.” Acceptable, but during the flight, the plane morphs into a United Airlines airliner and then lands in Hong Kong as a Pan American DC-6. All those changes with not one passenger missing their boarding gate. Locating their luggage is a different story.