A STRANGE ADVENTURE (1956)

A decade before this film's release, William Witney was directing Republic Pictures cowboy serials so he may have felt at home in the mountain setting of, “Suspended Disbelief,” my alternate title for this film. The official title works. It is every bit that. It comes off, at times, like a filmed stage play with everyone knowing their cues and what expression to provide. The opening score is appropriate. If it were a soap opera. The score may also burst onto a scene without warning. I will give Republic the benefit of the doubt by assuming I watched an inferior print. There are abrupt edits as if the film broke and then was spliced together. This actually complements the film’s pacing.

An apparent “upper teen,” the twenty-three-year-old Ben Cooper (speaking of cowboy Westerns) still lives with mom, assisting in running her mountain motel. His hobby is a souped-up 1939 Mercury coupe for which he is always in tinkering mode. His other tinkering hobby is gawking at the visiting Marla English, poolside. Her intentions are rather obvious, except to Cooper, who plays it cool like a typical high-school senior of the era with limited social experiences. Suspended disbelief. She is a nightclub singer—we have no evidence of this—and completing her trio are Jan Merlin (known for many despicable characters) and Nick Adams. I am not sure how much the boy really knows about cars after these two arrive in a new Lincoln. He is "gosh-darned" impressed and heard it will do zero to sixty in six seconds. Even Road&Track finds this hard to believe.

Cooper is pretty suspicious of these two after noticing that the Lincoln is actually registered to Woody Wilson, the trio's "booking agent." He is supposed to arrive at a later hour, but Cooper informs English that the newspapers say he has escaped from a mid-western jail. Golly! She is “shocked” and cannot figure that one. Her real shock is suspecting Woody knows Merlin double-crossed him. Cooper soon discovers the trio’s new gig. An armored car robbery to the tune of...well...a lot of money. He is pressured into driving his “faster than a Lincoln” hot rod as the getaway vehicle, apparently with the hope that it will probably all work out in the end. I will say, the stunt driving convinced me of its custom nature. Nothing phony about the speeds or cornering up the dusty mountain roads. The actual car was somewhat of a celebrity, a genuine early Fifties customized model completed some two years prior. I digress. The robbery should move that fast because Woody is in town! While English gazes at the blurred flora and fauna up the mountain she gets something in her eye. After they stop, she tells Cooper, “I think a pebble hit my eye.” The only thing funnier would have been using the word “rock” instead. I think an ophthalmologist is needed. With all the talk and fear of Woody, I looked forward to seeing the actor. But the role was never cast.

Merlin’s character is certainly dangerous. Half the time a wise mastermind, the other half as a man-child prone to temper tantrums. Things do not always pan out like he thinks they should. So frustrated, he takes it out on whoever is nearby with bursts of angry yelling, using a gun for gesturing. After the robbery, a contrived radio broadcast centers on the lighter side of the news. The amused newscaster mentions Cooper’s mother (startled, he blurts out, “Mom!”) who figures her son eloped with that 'swimming pool Delilah.' Everyone in the car has a good laugh at the son's expense.

Merlin demands Cooper to take a particular turn off the main highway. They come to a halt. Merlin yells, “It’s a dead-end!” The “Road Closed until Spring” sign should have been a clue. The entire cast is now at an electric company’s weather reporting station which is about to experience its first big snowfall of the season. No one in or out for six months. Really? Merlin’s brilliance tells him this will be the ideal hiding place. Six months without anyone ever making contact with the station. Probably not much more than three months without any food. Suspended disbelief at its essence. The station is run by a brother and sister team of Peter Miller and Joan Evans. Everyone is uncomfortable about the long winter. For some unknown reason, Evans falls head over heels for Cooper. She knew him for his weekend races, but they had never met. He is on the same page. More tinkering. There is plenty of acting silliness until Miller purposely destroys the communications radio. With communication down, a ranger in a snow tracker heads in their direction.

The final scene is the most rushed segment as if the director had to say, “Cut. That’s a wrap!” at the seventy-minute mark no matter what he had intended to film. With no time left to properly resolve the film, the viewer has to settle on another radio broadcast from the car Cooper, Evans and Miller are traveling. 

Note: Nick Adams brings an early comedic note to the film as a guy with sinus woes due to the higher elevation. Merlin is intolerant of his constant sniffles, yelling, or throwing things at him like a child. With his black shirt, white tie, and white suspenders, Adams looks like he is part of a clichéd comedic gangster skit. He is a funny sight, later, with a “scarf” under his fedora, tied under his chin, to keep warm. But his I.Q. is a bit higher than “Merlin the Yeller” and outwits him by incrementally depositing all the loot in a "snow bank," exchanging stones for the money inside the bag. Neither Merlin nor English could figure out why the money turned hard and lumpy. Must be the altitude.

LADY LUCK (1946)

Directed by the very busy Edwin Marin, this light comedy will probably not elicit a second viewing. Especially at a whopping ninety-seven minutes. The film has an unremarkable music score by Leigh Harline to back up an original story by the nearly unknown, Herbert Clyde Lewis. Released by RKO Radio Pictures, this low-budget movie does have its humorous moments, thanks to those with comedic chops. The individually brief opening segments are fun, suggesting a screwball comedy. These historical flashbacks concern the ancestors of Frank Morgan, each with their own bad gambling decisions from the eighteenth to the early twentieth centuries. Barbara Hale represents his granddaughter in all three historical settings. But do not expect an uproarious comedy. Its two main stars, Robert Young and Hale are good here but neither are funny by nature. Their dialogue, at times, only includes potentially funny quips. With all the clichéd anger by misunderstandings between these two, the supporting cast is the film’s saving grace on the comedy front.

It all starts with third-billed Morgan, playing a soft-hearted, gambling-distracted grandfather, a persona not far removed from the great Oz. Further down the cast is James Gleason, again playing a savvy character doling out wisdom or deadpan quips with barely a lip moving. Others help carry the comedic load like rotund Lloyd Corrigan, Don Rice, Harry Davenport and the man with the electric performance, Teddy Hart. Once again, he nearly steals another movie as a two-dollar bettor—and winning—to the slow agony of the room. Hart’s first scene sets up the tedious bulk of the movie and this is how it happened. 

Young is a professional gambler who has done well, here and there. On the other hand, Morgan gambles habitually. The lovable old coot will bet on anything. Hale hates the odds against his “investments.” Her desire is to keep “Gramps” preoccupied before temptation is acted upon. Young places a horse racing bet with Morgan which in turn introduces him to Hale. She gambles on him upon their first encounter. Smitten by one moonlit night, Young vows to stop gambling to Hale’s delight and skepticism. Quickly married after only their second screen appearance together, he awaits her return from shopping. Something he will have to get used to. To pass the time he watches Hart’s timid bets and to speed things along, volunteers to roll the dice multiple times on his behalf. As if he can control how the dice bounce. He loses Hart’s money. Young continues to gamble only to repay Hart’s deficit. Which he does. Then walks away. Hale sees Young at the table and immaturely jumps to a conclusion. Surely, only Hollywood screenwriters think like this. She refuses to hear Young’s explanation and rather than listen to reason, takes the easy way out. Divorce. Thus begins the middle of the film which is a bit too predictable and seems to take a fortnight to get through. By the end of the film, Hale, now a gambling whiz, has a totally new perspective on gambling to Young’s displeasure. But the ending is a positive one thanks to Morgan and the supporting cast. For a final chuckle, Teddy “beside himself” Hart shows up at the end as a wealthy, “patron saint of gambling.” 

Note: Apparently Hollywood thinks everyone gambles. I am always lost in gambling—dice or card—movies. Ironically, both stars did their own personal gambling. Young was nearing his film peak here. He was always well-prepared but never possessed the charisma of some of his film colleagues. His perfect fame came in the form of a very successful career on television, however. The very pretty Hale also gambled on television, which paid off nicely, opposite Raymond Burr.