ROADBLOCK (1951)

RKO Radio Pictures provided a promising opening to this film noir. Character actor, Peter Brocco, witnesses the late-night shooting of Louis Jean Heydt by Charles McGraw. He is abducted by McGraw at gunpoint but swears not to mention it to the police. He cannot. He is on the lame for theft. He makes a deal to split his one hundred grand, kept in his late uncle's cemetery vault. As Brocco removes the floor tile, he first grabs a gun from underneath. McGraw's fist is introduced to Brocco, and to his shock, in walks Heydt. The two insurance investigators have just wrapped up another case. Just like that. Do not expect a lot of action after this. The film is bookended by this intriguing opening and an exciting, though predictable, closing. But you will witness something McGraw rarely gets to do. Smile.

We find McGraw awaiting a plane back to Los Angeles. With an air of sophistication, petite Joan Dixon, unable to afford a full-price single ticket, requests a husband/wife discount ticket. She chooses McGraw as her husband. He does not understand but likes the idea. A lot. The flight has to land short of their destination due to bad weather and both assess each other during the delay. She bluntly tells him they have no future together. Never misquote the Bible: money is not the root of all evil. It is the love of money. Just ask Dixon. Her demeanor suggests a teenager as she dreamily envisions her future, “I’m on a rocket ship to the moon” or “I’m going for the World Series.” McGraw looks puzzled. He cannot afford tickets to the World Series on his salary! This greatly bothers him and we learn his left brain is packed full of stupid. Now settle in for a lot of conversation until well past the halfway point.

The good news is, Dixon now wants to marry McGraw. He needs a lot of money and fast. And so it goes. He proposes a railway mail car robbery to underworld figure and Dixon’s former sugar daddy, Lowell Gilmore. McGraw’s inside knowledge of over a million-dollar cash shipment is the target. He wants Gilmore to stash his take inside a commercial-sized fire extinguisher and mail it to their mountainside honeymoon cabin offered to them by Heydt. I think most have mailed fire extinguishers at some point. To liven up his alibi honeymoon, he confesses his deal with Gilmore. The bad news, money is not as important as her new husband. D'oh! Dixon is ashamed of herself for how low McGraw has descended for her.

The robbery goes well except a railroad employee later dies from the mail car explosion. This, according to a police detective, Milburn Stone. The department tracks down the pilot of the seaplane used for the robbers’ getaway. He identifies one of the robbers. Methodically, the noose gets tighter around McGraw, who arranges to meet Gilmore with a plan to solve their predicament. Gilmore attempts to draw his gun but square-jawed McGraw gets the upper hand. The unconscious Gilmore is placed in his car before it goes over an embankment in flames. Predicament solved.

In a restaurant meeting, Heydt disappointingly explains McGraw’s slip-up. It was the extra fire extinguisher. He had just bought a new one for the cabin. D'oh! A beer bottle on the head temporarily slows Heydt but soon he and Stone are racing to apprehend husband and wife as they predictably flee to Mexico via the classically famous and frequently used, Los Angeles riverbed, hydro-foiling across the water. It never seems like anything good comes from driving down there, but the low traffic volume made it simpler for a few directors during this era, to say nothing about it being unique. These closing chase scenes are the most memorable moments. The seventy-three-minute film ends with mixed feelings among the remaining cast as Dixon walks away amidst the Los Angeles smog.

Note: For any film buff, this film hardly deserves to be in an unknown category. McGraw's career never skipped a beat because of this film and a jumpstart with RKO's previous dandy, “Armored Car Robbery” or the later “The Narrow Margin.” His co-stars in this film did not burn up the screen, however. Gilmore’s weak character is not memorable. Dixon is rather one-dimensional in this, the most famous role of her short career.

THE WASP WOMAN (1959)

Roger Corman found his infamous niche in re-cycled teenage drive-in horror movies. This self-directed and produced film is another bad representation. Not William-Castle-bad, however. Roger's brother, Gene, maintaining the Corman gene, produced Beast From Haunted Cave, which was double-billed with this film. For an estimated fifty grand, I suspect a chunk of the money went for hiring Susan Cabot again from the previous year for War of the Satellites, and Corman's superior, Machine Gun Kelly. It should be no surprise, then, that this film has some banal scenes. The production quality is lifeless with a waste of about twelve minutes at the opening as we follow a “Doctor of Waspology,” Michael Mark, through the woods looking for a wasp’s nest. He is also ostracized by the local beekeeper union because he is not a team player. Bees, dude, not wasps! But he has made an incredible discovery. There is a wasp enzyme serum that can turn back the aging process. Truly, the only thing that detracts from this film is a poorly executed horror prop at the end. Without it, though, this would not be a "horror" movie.

The opening score by Fred Katz is mesmerizing, yet annoying. A very dissonant and chaotic arrangement that supports the background image of bees making honey. Never mind the movie is about wasps. The film score was used several times for Corman's science fiction movies. The score, with dominant xylophone, specifically during an in-car camera drive and general "investigating" filler scenes, is a sensory experience of bargain-basement filming. 

Susan Cabot does a good job in her final film. As the CEO of a major cosmetic company, her initial appearance gives the impression of a dowdy, middle-aged female with no social life. Ever. Yet wasps are very social. But then, so are bees. Product advertisements have featured her image since the launch of her company, but recently, sales have tanked with her current image. An extremely "complex" bar graph, made by a middle school project, needs clarification from Anthony (Fred) Eisley to explain plummeting sales. Using something called a pointer, he offers a blunt suggestion: replace Cabot’s image with someone younger. His assessment is applauded by the entire board. Cabot lowers her head in self-awareness.

Excentric “Dr. Waspy” re-enters the picture and shares his research with Cabot. Vanity, thy name is Wasp. Of course, she needs to look younger, and after a few injections, violá, she reveals her new, confident self. From a wasp’s perspective, she could not look more vibrant. It becomes her new line of injection cosmetics. Then the headaches start. A silly, cheap wasp-head mask is attached to Cabot’s stunt double, turning her into a blood-sucking vampire wasp. Much easier than what the poster suggests, a wasp's body with Cabot's face. Hello, CGI. Needless to say, the board members will be voting on a new CEO.

Note: Barboura Morris, with her attention-getting first name, plays Cabot’s assistant and a flirting target for Eisley. She was well-versed in low-budget movies and may have recognized the film score since it was used for her first Corman outing, “A Bucket of Blood.” Always on cue is character actor, Frank Gerstle, naturally playing a police detective. A filler to pad the film's length is two attractive office tarts, one of whom manicures and buffs her nails down to the cuticle. In another uncredited role, Corman plays the doctor attending to "Dr. Waspy" after his jaywalking accident.