THE BIG CHASE (1954)

The opening score beneath the title credits and Los Angeles highway footage sounds like music for a 1940s Lon Chaney Jr. horror film—ironically a supporting player in this film. The rest of the music would fit an old action serial. Few films are more aptly titled as about one-third of the movie is a climactic chase sequence that flits from car to rowboat to motorboat to helicopter, and to dress shoes.

Such as it is, the plot concerns a police officer, his expectant wife, and criminals out to steal a payroll truck. Starring again in a “limp-pert” production are actors past their career peaks, Glenn Langan, Adele Jergens, and Jim Davis. The opening amateurish dialogue between the police lieutenant, Douglas “B-movie” Kennedy, and reporter, Joe Flynn, (in a thankless role) is a weak spot yet the other unknown supporting actors think their own dialogue is not only important but terrific. As recalled by Kennedy to Flynn, it sets up a backstory about Langan and Jergens (in a role against type) back to his graduation from the police academy and the following months on the force. Kennedy is very supportive of the expectant couple and as a point of encouragement, visits them periodically. Their dialogue is also clichéd. By the way, Kennedy and Flynn wrap up the film in hokey style.

Aside from some good location filming on land and sea, there are some cheap high school drama sets during the early prison scenes. A potential riot stirs up the acting extras as they pound their tin cups on a table in front of a blank wall. Making it laughable are extras casually “photo-bombing” in front of the main actors in slow motion in the prison yard. Jim Davis plays a hardened criminal planning a big breakout. This is the last we hear about that (plot hole number one). Instead, he is released from prison and looking to reconnect with his wife and a couple of prison pals for a payroll robbery. As the chase begins, the trailing police attempt to shoot someone or something in the convertible getaway car while on the freeway. Davis’s wife is assumed to be shot dead and he takes the wheel to steer the car. Somehow, he manages to bring the car to a stop. In a surprisingly despicable act, more in tune with movies twenty years into the future, the guys push her from the car and over a cliff. Catch you later, babe! 

Then sit back for an “editing festival” as scenes jump from one location or automobile in a matter of seconds. The railroad yard sequence appears to wrap up the chase after Chaney is shot multiple times and the music fades. I was wrong. The two remaining criminals are now on foot to an awaiting row boat to Mexico. Amazingly, they trade their row boat for a motor boat abandoned in open water. In an impressive supporting performance, a Nash Ambassador patrol car comes in hot, skidding at an angle toward the camera next to a waiting police helicopter. Langan misses his child's birth as the chase continues—in Florsheims.

Note: In contrast to this movie's lead, Robert L. Lippert senior was probably present at his son's birth. It appears Junior picked up some of his father's traits. Number six of seven in his producing career, this film is by no means horrible. The film was directed by Arthur Hilton, and taking full responsibility for the mundane dialogue is the writing team of Fred Freiberger and the uncredited (by request?) Orville Hampton. The 3-D footage will have no relevance today, but it was thrust upon the viewer willy-nilly during the big chase. The producer edited that footage into this film from his film short, Bandit Island (1953). The twenty-five-minute short had no dialogue. Probably a wise choice. The above poster appears to promote Bandit Island with an overlaying poster.

WIRETAPPER (1955)

 

Based around actual events, this eighty-minute crime biopic highlights four years in the life of a World War II communications expert, Jim Vaus Jr., in 1945. He is awarded a four-year prison term for the theft of government equipment. The film is respectably acted, though no Golden Globe nominations were announced. Directed by Dick Ross, with a screenplay by John O'Dea from Vaus' autobiography, "Why I Quit Syndicated Crime," it was produced by World Wide Pictures, founded in 1951 by the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association. The film was an outreach tool to inspire moviegoers. Unfortunately, they have to wait seventy minutes to be inspired. The film gets no awards for cinematography nor for the score composed by Ralph Carmichael—who will be considered the father of contemporary Christian music in a decade.

I use the Vaus name and not the actor, Bill Williams, who portrays him. Another B-movie regular, Douglas Kennedy, joins the male lead ranks as an underworld boss. The least-known, Georgia Lee, as Vaus' wife, is the weakest acting link. A "criminal casting call" was sent out to snag the usual suspects. Paul Picerni is once again hooked up with the mob as is Eric Roman. Even Stanley Clements works his way into the ranks. He becomes instrumental in Vaus's plan to delay horse-race betting results, giving both a guaranteed race winner. Going behind Kennedy's back to do it is not wise. Carmichael's military march composition during the horse-race segment is astonishingly misplaced.

Vaus is released early but his incarceration results in a demotion from Captain to Private. His deception begins when he buys cheap knock-off service medals to pin to his uniform before arriving home. He takes no pride in his decision. Soon running his own electrical business with a hit-and-miss profit margin, he is hired to fix a lowly doorbell for Kennedy. Vaus accidentally discovers someone has planted a hidden mic in the mob boss's home. Kennedy slips him a “Franklin” to find out who. Vaus's easy money is suspiciously on the rise while his new marriage begins a rapid descent. A low point has him working while his wife gives birth to their first child. Another empty promise to be there. He justifies his illegal wiretapping by working for both the mob and the police. That horse-race betting scheme takes a rapid descent as well, with Clements gunned down from behind. Vaus is apprehended, beaten, and given an ultimatum. One final job in St. Louis.

Vaus drives his wife to the safety of her mother's home before his trip to Missouri. Mysteriously, they appear to be without their now pre-school daughter. Lee spots the Graham revival tent and is urged to stop. Bible passages and Graham's poignant words seem to be directed specifically toward Vaus. He tells his wife it is time to face the [Carmichael] music. At life's turning point, he is spiritually guided to accept Christ into his life, relieving his criminal burdens to begin a new life. Mustering the courage to face Kennedy about why he is quitting the syndicate presents a tense scene between them.

Note: In this film, we witness a high-energy Billy Graham during the extended, eight-week-long, Los Angeles Crusade under a huge tent in 1949. The passionate young Graham may appear to be the clichéd “condemning preacher” but he does not condemn nor judge. He simply understands the seriousness of eternity as spelled out in the Bible. Vaus went on to tour the country as an inspirational Christian speaker. Throughout history, God has chosen people to lead. Ignoring these truths and not comprehending the change in Vaus, the ending will likely remain dull.

CRY VENGEANCE (1954)

Few films of any era are centered in Ketchikan, Alaska. There is not much noir with the location, one reason the film just does not excite. There are no night scenes and barely a shadow cast, except on the poster. By the mid-fifties film noir was getting stale, often using recycled scripts. This film is a good example.

Mark Stevens stars and directs this familiar story about a vengeful San Francisco ex-cop who loses his wife and daughter in a bomb explosion. Being framed for the deaths and spending three years in prison makes him self-obsessed. His face is disfigured in one of the most startling and poorly executed Hollywood make-up jobs, perhaps better executed by any high school drama production. No, that is not an alien leach on his jaw. I would see a cancer specialist. Right away.

The film also stars Douglas Kennedy, the hoodlum on Steven’s revenge list who he believes is responsible for destroying his life. Kennedy is assuming a new life with his young daughter. When they meet, Kennedy tries to reason with him but Stevens goes a bit psychotic talking about how Kennedy is going to suffer.

Adding a bit of scenery to the gray landscape is Frontier Tavern owner, Martha Hyer, the calm and level-headed equalizer for the disturbed Stevens. In one interior scene, she wears an out-of-place spaghetti-strapped cocktail dress while on duty in the rustic, wooden tavern. Ahh...summer in Ketchikan. She and Kennedy are close but she becomes more attracted to Stevens and soon understands why he is in Alaska.

But the showstopper is the unhinged hitman, Skip Homeier, and his bleached white hair, black, thick-rimmed glasses, and bow tie. Pee-Wee Herman’s evil brother. Three minutes into the film he makes a bad impression on Stevens and the audience. His smart-aleck, condescending tone deserves a fist in the face. Pretty visually funny when he slowly pops up in the backseat of Kennedy’s studio prop car. For his amusement, Homeier "skips" a stone across a lake after killing Kennedy in cold blood.

The dialogue is mundane, and lacks snap, except for one brief scene when Joan Vohs, Homeier’s "lush-friend," shows up at the tavern to warn Stevens. She asks the bartender for a drink unfamiliar to Alaskans. A screwdriver. Puzzled, the bartender asks, “Somethin’ loose?” She replies, “Comedy, yet...you drink it, Hyrum!” "The name’s Rusty." "So’s your sense of humor." She eventually returns to Homeier’s room. Sick of seeing her drunk again, his remedy is for her to take one bullet and not see him in the morning.

Knowing nothing of Kennedy’s demise, Stevens’ plan to kidnap his daughter as payback quickly disintegrates. With child-like acceptance, she is glad to see him again and kisses him on the leach side of his face. She asks Stevens to return the kiss like her daddy does. This nearly crushes him. A rather touching and pivotal scene of surrender.

After a slow, mountain car chase, more dusty than exciting, Stevens finally catches Homeier, his real target, on top of a dam. Homeier oddly points his gun down, and to the right, getting off two shots. Nearly hitting the dam. Some hitman! Stevens’ directing took a more direct hit. Stevens’ aim is truer and Homeier stumbles. Cleared of any wrongdoing, morose Stevens returns to San Francisco but leaves the viewer open to the possibility he might return someday (yawn) to start a new family with Hyer and Kennedy’s little girl.