THE RED MENACE (1949)

Directed by R.G. Springsteen, most associated with television westerns, this Republic Production release may suck—eighty-one minutes from your life—yet it offers a few timeless observations. The film’s opening credits have a male chorus singing wordless music of a slight Russian flavor. The composer is Nathan Scott, father of Grammy Award-winning saxophonist and composer, Tom Scott. The narration by Lloyd G. Davies, a Los Angeles City Council Member returns periodically throughout the film with prescient comments. He also garners a role as Inspector O’Toole. Republic’s own, Robert “B-movie” Rockwell, and co-star, Hannelore (Hanne) Axman are in the midst of a late-night automobile escape with Axman in a particular state of panic. Davies steps in to explain the necessary flashback of what led to the climactic scene.

Rockwell, in his second film role, gets hoodwinked into joining the Communist Party in America simply because of his disillusionment with governmental procedures as a returning war veteran. His selfish anger provides a ripe mind for the red menace. He is befriended by an undercover comrade who takes him to “Club Domino.” Maybe a subliminal message behind that name as America will fall like dominoes under a Communist takeover. Across the alley is their underground newspaper, subliminally titled, “The Toilers.” All the patrons at this alley bar have orders to recruit saps like Rockwell. Cute Barbara Fuller is first to soften him up. A young convert who later begins to question the organization's intentions.

Sensing Rockwell is a bit green around the red menace, he is later saved from arrest by Axman, a Communist instructor from Europe. He thinks Communism is where everyone shares things equally. Golly, that sounds keen. She tells him that it is a naive American opinion. In Communism, there are no internal principles of right and wrong. The basic doctrine is Atheism which is sugar-coated with high brow terms. Lying is second nature. If you disagree with them you are silenced. As an example, a man stands up in protest at a secret meeting. Betty Lou Gerson, in her first movie role, berates him and identifies him with an ethnic slur. It is shockingly accurate to describe radicals or liberal social media in the twenty-first century. She looks and acts the part here. Devoid of any outward femininity, she is a bit jealous of Fuller and Axman. In the end, immigration officials bring her in for questioning. They are tired of her loud-mouth disloyalty to the United States and also uncover she is a murderer. Bingo! She ends her role in an angry, over-the-top tirade indicative of an unhinged person. Gerson was still a popular radio character and voice artist. Her final scene would have been less amusing on the radio. You may roll your eyes during her final laughing exit.

Davies returns with closing comments. Rockwell and Axman end their escape with a tall, baritone-voiced Texas sheriff who doles out wisdom after listening to their three-hour backstory. The ending is too simplistic to be believed. Before leaving on an assignment, he says they have nothing to fear in America and they should get married. The couple did not get the sheriff’s name but a little boy walking by in a cowboy outfit helps a bit. Scratching his head, 'Oh him? It’s some kind of a long name but us kids just call him Uncle Sam.' The closing moments have the male chorus singing “My Country ‘Tis of Thee” over images of the Statue of Liberty. Try that today.

Notes: This film is too idealistic but perhaps makes a point. Many protesters are hired to pit social classes against one another. These are the same people today who set fire to buildings or parked cars because they disagree with someone's viewpoint, existence or judicial verdict. Totally out of control, ignorant people. Stalin said it best: 'Dictatorship means unlimited power, resting solely on violence, and not on law.' 

In another scene, a man confronts his comrades. He has had enough of the party and tears up his card. I quote: 'All the years in the party I thought I could be an American Democrat and a Communist at the same time. You pretend to fight racial discrimination but you keep reminding me I’m a Jewish-American. Molly, over there, is an Irish-American. We are not hyphens! We’re just plain Americans!' 

ANATOMY OF A PSYCHO (1961)

The screenplay for this seventy-five-minute oddity was by Jane Mann and Don Devlin and rumored to include Ed Wood, Jr. This Plymouth Picture Inc. film was distributed by the “renowned” Unitel Productions. It is a rare occasion when I use the character names instead of the actor’s name, but with an essentially unknown cast, this seems to make more sense. Ronnie Burns (Mickey) stars with Pamela Lincoln (Pat) and her on-screen brother, Chet, played by Darrell Howell. We see a lot of third-billed Chet in this movie. Each actor does a fairly decent job given the assumed direction by Boris Petrof and a crew with little imagination. Michael Grainger (Lt. MacGowen) brings the most acting experience to the quartet of performers.

Lincoln had a number of television acting roles prior to this turkey and it displays her emotional range. And a powerful set of upper teeth. Likewise, Burns was not entirely unknown, being seen frequently on his parent's television show, Burns and Allen. Then he disappeared after this film. Burns’ larger list of acting credits gives him top-billing. Some reviews are confused, thinking Mickey is the psycho. But the film’s title refers to Chet, whose performance gets better the more psychotic he becomes. His somewhat anemic, dazed, acting is actually effective for his character. Similar to a couple of Johnny Cash’s performances sans Western apparel.

Chet and his buddies frequently meet at “the shack,” a rundown house that epitomizes that very word. His best friend, Moe, an ex-Marine, calls it home. He is the elder statesman of the clubhouse. The band of buddies resides in a neighborhood where students are “held back” a few grades more than in the average town. Most of the young characters appear to be in their early to mid-twenties, masquerading as teenagers. Chet increasingly experiences paranoia and mental delusions after his brother is sentenced to die for a murder he committed, ultimately losing touch with reality. His condition is compounded by this but it is pretty obvious he was not diagnosed with mental issues before the movie began. Pat tries to encourage her brother to bring in some income and take his mind off the subject. She pleads, 'I wish you'd go back to school. I'm a girl. I don’t need to go.' A popular statement during the early nineteenth century. But he is determined to seek revenge on those who testified against his brother.

Parents are scarce in this film. The only one is Mickey’s father, one of those who testified. When Chet finds this out both are in his sights. The son of the DA gets beaten by the masked “flour children” and Lt. MacGowen visits the young men—a sack mask over his head in a joke—to question them about a sack found near the crime. Known as “Mac” at the shack, he might have gone into social work full-time had he not chosen to be a police officer. He has real empathy for Chet and is determined to give him some sort of electro-shock treatment. I mean, counseling.

Chet’s girl, Sandy, played by Judy Howard, playfully twirls through her first of two scenes in slow motion outside her mobile home seemingly rolling off a fence and then a garage while always looking back at him with the neck flexibility of a swan. She wants a man with money. A man with a larger trailer. Chet has neither.

While attending a dance party at the very swank home of the local judge, Pat accepts Mickey’s proposal of marriage. It is a bit of a shock to witness the breathtaking view of a large immaculate pool against Pikes Peak near Colorado Springs. As if the producer blew the entire film’s budget on this scene. It seems out of place after experiencing dark, low-rent neighborhoods for the first thirty minutes. Sandy shows up with a new beau, the son-of-a-judge, dressed intentionally to get noticed. Mickey invited Chet. Perfect. He hates the judge and his son, too. Perhaps the reason to progress the film under the guise of a dance party is so Chet can set fire to the judge’s mansion.

Mickey and Moe get into their second tussle at the shack. Moe pulls a knife but it accidentally ends up in his stomach. Mickey flees. Chet kneels down while Moe pleads with him to not pull the knife out, he will bleed to death. In order to pin the crime on Mickey, Chet pushes the knife in further. What are best friends for? Slow-learning Bobbie witnesses the murder and a dreaded courtroom scene ensues at about the fifty-minute mark. The judge is particularly amateurish. The swearing-in of McGowan seems to have caught the registrar off guard as he stumbles, then repeats his opening words. The usual theatrics raise their head as the prosecuting and defense attorneys badger the witnesses. Bobbie lies under oath after acknowledging he knows what perjury means. It is authentically boring stuff for an audience who knows the truth. I thought the jury turned in a solid performance because outside of the foreman announcing the verdict, they had no lines. Bobbie cannot stand by Chet any longer and confirms the truth about Moe’s demise. The shack and its contents are “auctioned” off.

Notes: Slowly but surely over the years, the "enlightened" have been convinced of their own importance. By the end of the Sixties, Hollywood codes and lifestyles began to change, but in 1961 there were restraints in place to not get too graphic with Chet’s revenge nor was there anything perverse about having a young boy admire an older friend as a role model. Most were naturally conscious of not offending anyone. This is silly now, but when Mickey introduces Pat to his father he comes out of his room in a white tank top undershirt, reminiscent of men’s 1920s swimwear. He is totally embarrassed to have Pat see him “half-dressed” and crosses his arms to cover himself as he backs into his room.