CARUSO STRIKES MAYBERRY
This
is not two television episodes edited into a movie. Its premise,
from a story and screenplay by John K. Butler and Frederick Louis
Fox, centers around a big city mobster who wants his trial moved to a
small community, Rosedale, where he will likely go free by a jury of
no peers. The moviegoer knows he committed murder in an alley. The bowling type. The mobster plans to blackmail the town's elder prosecutor because he knows the secret he has kept hidden
for years. The not-so-horrible secret is kept for a while, but out of
fear, the prosecutor throws the trial in the mobster's favor. The
Republic Pictures release is planted firmly on the mediocre side of
town. Perhaps an explanation of the awkward and misleading title is
in order. A gangland mobster shoots a key witness in a bowling alley
right after the guy rolls another one of his strikes. You can believe that if you want.
Thanks to the ubiquitous
criminal, Anthony “Duke” Caruso, the opening would suggest a
hard-hitting crime drama. Script “bookends of
excitement” are used at the beginning and end to keep the slow
middle section from collapsing. Dramatic scene transition music
sometimes would fit a sitcom of the era with a downtown studio set. It is as clean and stainless as the people who live
there. Every automobile is newly washed and waxed. With its
clichéd dialogue and characters, this film could have been made ten
to fifteen years earlier. By golly, Andy Hardy would feel right at
home here.
Directed by R.G. Springsteen,
everyone rolls through the film competently, however. Playing the
seasoned and genial pivotal character is Raymond “Pops”
Greenleaf, the lovable and infamous prosecuting attorney. The Ben
Matlock of Rosedale. The courtroom scenes are, thankfully, brief, but
are not anchored in any reality. The cast is a “gang load” of
B-movie or television performers. Caruso's ex-con airhead girl is
played by Marian Carr. She thinks the world of him...calls him “Dukie.” He does not reciprocate her sentiments. Young John Hudson
plays an up-and-coming prosecutor and fiancé to the cute and
wholesome, Marjie Millar. She seems lifted straight from a Roy
Rogers serial. More embarrassing is watching Slim Pickens do his
one-dimensional, rural bumpkin character. He is so one-dimensional
his character's name is actually “Slim Pickett.” His elementary-level
humor hardly ever satisfies. Again playing a sheriff, is Paul Birch.
Uncredited roles go to Mayberry alums from The Andy Griffith
Show, James Best, and Dick Elliot.
Caruso
is eventually subpoenaed by the court for a second murder. His
memorized “attendance” at a piano concert is his alibi. But
Greenleaf knows more about the pianist than Caruso and his detailed
questions destroy him on the witness stand. Out of nowhere comes a
startling solo piano score underlying the scene. Caruso loses his
temper and attempts to shoot his chauffeur because he thinks he
betrayed him on the shady conjecture from Greenleaf. How he got into
the courthouse with a handgun, no one cares. It is the final bookend
of excitement in the film. Ditsy Carr hopes that “Dukie” will not
be put away long. Caruso's legal
adviser sardonically replies it will be just a couple of days, then they will turn on
the electricity. As expected, she does
not get it.
Note: To accurately
categorize this film is puzzling. A studio laugh track would not
be out of place. The script is idealistic with abrupt scene changes
and characters popping up without any permission to do so. In spite
of these things, this forgotten, historical slice of Americana, is
generally pleasing. At seventy minutes, it may be the perfect movie
to watch on a smartphone, simply because one can.
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