GUN CRAZY (1950)

This movie fits into the “human-noir” category, where childhood can be a dark affair affected by circumstances, psychological issues, or the influence of others. Any number of B-movie actors could have brought justice to each character, yet it turned out to be the defining film for both John Dall and Peggy Cummins. A superstar couple may have clouded the natural interpretation of the script by these two. Though the acting is compelling, it is the cinematography that stands the test of time. This film is based on a 1940 story of the same name from The Saturday Evening Post by MacKinlay Kantor. The film's premise could be adapted for any decade. He also wrote the screenplay along with Dalton Trumbo. The story features a gun-shooting husband and wife on their brief crime-spree honeymoon. It never consistently hits the bull's eye, but it still racks up some points.

I found the opening backstory about Dall's childhood obsession with guns drawn out more than necessary when narration over key filmed segments would have sufficed. Victor Young's opening score fits these scenes, which may be the only rushes the prolific composer ever saw. His music seems absent during the balance of the film. The opening does make it clear Dall is crazy about shooting guns. Peggy Cummins, on the other hand, is just plain crazy. In her first scene in this film—clad in Spandex-like pants borrowed from television's Lone Ranger—she appears to be far more dangerous without a gun. She is a crack shot in a traveling carnival, and Dall is enthralled. He has found his shooting-mate for life. His psyche is triggered, then he betters her in an on-stage challenge, using a gun he has never fired before. He is that good. Dall's future is in her hands—though he tries to rein her in—they are both on an anticipated downward spiral. Her character flits from charming to disturbed in the midst of a robbery. What he does not know about her past—she occasionally has to shoot somebody—the FBI is well informed. Their “undying” love will have them running until death do them part.

Directed by Joseph H. Lewis and produced by Frank and Maurice King of King Brothers Productions, the eighty-seven-minute film took thirty days and 400 grand to make. It was released by United Artists. Without a doubt, the most engaging element of the film is the periodically astounding cinematography by Russell Harlan. His extraordinarily realistic in-car camera work has the viewer riding in the back seat on a typical day of robbery as Dall and Cummins seem to be unscripted, as their dialogue fades in and out as if they were ad-libbing. Harlan's famous one-shot bank robbery sequence from a car's back seat is another trend-setting example. These scenes appear out of place among other routine scenes, seemingly shot by another cinematographer. Yet his camera placement under the dash—shooting through the steering wheel spokes—appears likely to be a wacky experiment that actually worked. Also of startling note are the extreme close-ups near the end as we watch the quivering lips of the sweaty couple. As to be expected during the first century of film, the editing by Harry Gerstad slips in a “chase” with a studio prop police car that should have been left on the editing room floor.

At least two things are puzzling. When the gun-crazy couple is being tailed by the police, Dall shoots the patrol car's front tire cleanly through their own rear window with nothing to suggest he broke out the backlight before shooting. For another, I found the drive to the top of the mountains strange, where Dall spent time as a youth. Not so much the drive as the foggy swamp at the summit. I had no idea there were swamps on California's low-humidity mountaintops. 

Finally, seventy-year-old forgettable films may garner new fans when dissected through Twenty-First Century thinking. The proper way to interpret this film is with a mid-century mindset. The implausible scenes are invisible to these commentators, preferring to zero in on the duo's sexual interpretation that they feel compelled to give an "enlightened" reboot to, which was not even thought of (or appropriate ) to comment on in 1950. By this measure, some of today's forgettable films may one day be considered great after all the personnel invested in the film have died.

Note: Dall's movie career and his life were short. His only other notable films before settling into television were Alfred Hitchcock's Rope, two years prior to this film, and a significant role in Spartacus (1960). He died at the age of fifty. This is Irish-born Cummins's best-known and last American film. Her film career ended in 1961, but she lived a long life with personal involvement in other ventures. She died at age ninety-two in London.