CAUSE FOR ALARM! (1951)

To Have And To Hold Until Paranoia Do Part

This seventy-four-minute MGM film, directed by Tay Garnett, suffered a six-figure loss at the box office. But then, it did not cost much to make. The screenplay is by Mel Dinelli and Tom Lewis, with the film being produced also by Lewis, Loretta Young’s second husband. Young periodically narrates the film, sharing inner thoughts about her frightening day of the week. The film quickly unfolds with a flashback to establish the friendship between Young, Barry Sullivan, and Hollywood newcomer Bruce Cowling during World War II. Cowling is pursuing Young, but it is Sullivan who makes the biggest impression on her.

I found it difficult to ignore Young's over-the-top performance at times. Maybe she was trying too hard, aware that the film was rolling. Young seems to be the wrong actress for this hysterical character. Perhaps a “stronger” actress in the mold of Anne Baxter or Patricia Neal might have dialed it back. Neither, of course, was married to the producer. Then again, here, Young is “married” to Barry Sullivan, who has a psychotic disorder. 

Sullivan has a limited role as a bedridden patient with a scripted bad heart. He is also a little touched in the head with irrational jealousy, convinced Young and his doctor, his old Navy buddy, Cowling, are having an affair and both plotting to kill him. Sullivan goes so far as to write a detailed letter to the district attorney suggesting so. His plan is to kill her before she gets to him. He tells her his whole warped plan. But before firing a shot, he collapses from a fatal heart attack. Young’s posture and expression, wedged between the door frame and dresser (lower right image above), are straight out of a Carol Burnett show skit. She is acting so hard that it is laughable. 

It is near this point that the film is cause for alarm as Young tries to get the letter back from the postman after he dropped it at the post office. He is played by the typically befuddled or opinionated Irving Bacon. A by-the-book postal carrier with the gift of gab about the extreme heat, his sore feet, and concerns about securing his pension. The exchanges between him and Young are good, though she is obviously rattled to the point of being ridiculous. She pleads with Bacon to give her the letter, but he cannot. It is Sullivan who wrote the letter, and he must sign for it to be retrieved. Bacon is more than happy to take it to him. Young bursts. He instructs her to pick up the letter at the post office. Postal Superintendent Art Baker is happy to return the letter to her. Her husband just needs to fill out a form and sign it. Her irrational behavior is a red flag to Baker, who cancels their conversation.

More bad news as Sullivan's snooty and arrogant aunt shows up at the house. Young returns from the post office to find her making herself at home. She nearly has a heart attack herself when the aunt heads upstairs to see her nephew. Young's perceived rudeness sends the aunt to her car. Young's only good news in the film is when Bacon returns to inform her that the letter could not be delivered anyway. Insufficient postage. My preferred title for the film. 

Note: There is a brief uncredited appearance by Robert Easton and his on-screen pal, Carl Switzer. Both are involved in their personal automotive maintenance program.

Adding some humor and cuteness to the film is nine-year-old Brad Marrow, as "Hoppy," a popular nickname for the Western hero Hopalong Cassidy. It is Hoppy's public service to protect the neighbors from outlaws while riding his tricycle "horse." The engaging boy is not shy about asking Young for a cookie, either.

NIGHT AND THE CITY (1950)

Twentieth Century Fox released this interestingly creepy film noir set in London and directed by Jules Dassin. There are countless reviews of this movie’s involved storyline. Today, in hindsight, most seem to place it higher on a pedestal than I. Most of the characters have few redeeming qualities, so I found it an unpleasant story. There is no denying the great cinematography by Max Greene. One would expect nothing less of a film set in foggy London. This is Richard Widmark's film, with his co-stars coming in a distant second.

If one had been following Widmark’s career to this point, his role here would not be a surprise. Undoubtedly, the standout of the movie. His emotional range is astounding. Whether one liked his characters or not, moviegoers were familiar with his talent. He portrays a slice of humanity living a day-to-day existence. He is a desperate American con artist always planning his next moneymaker, borrowing “investment” money, and lying about his successes. Widmark’s pipe dreams put their trust in untrustworthy people, however, dooming his every venture.

His co-stars turn in credible performances. Francis Sullivan is an overweight, slimy nightclub owner who has Widmark on a leash to hustle money into his club. One would expect him to expire in this film, either by self-implosion or at the hands of an angry Widmark. His extended hysterical laughter after Widmark tells him of his wrestling scheme is a bit much. However, I imagine it was the director’s way of humiliating Widmark's character even more. Google...um, no...Googie Withers plays Sullivan’s estranged wife with schemes of her own. An underplayed performance by Herbert Lom is of note. As the promotional kingpin of the wrestling world in London, he does not take competition kindly. There are always serious consequences.

Gene Tierney may be the weakest link in the film. She barely exudes an emotion beyond sadness. She sympathetically tries to help Widmark rid himself of his habitual demons. Her character is without fault, unlike his. Opposites do not attract in this case. She could have been easily replaced without skipping a beat. Perhaps with Jane Wyman or Evelyn Keyes.

The final scene with real-life wrestler, Stanislaus Zbyszko (above), takes a back seat to no one. His bout with (fellow wrestler) Mike Mazurki packs a disgusting wallop as both men are intertwined to gain final dominance with bare-chested slaps and grunting. His death from an overworked heart, head cradled in his son's arms, is worth is gut-wrenching. With a face showing the ravages of time in and out of the ring, he gives a fine performance while personifying the film’s dark, unattractive premise.

Note: Hugh Marlowe is once again a supportive third wheel, this time for Tierney and her roller-coaster relationship with Widmark. He is preparing “pasta flambeau” when Tierney, his apartment neighbor, knocks on his door. His scream forces her entry, finding him engulfed in smoke. Judging by Marlowe’s total panic, one would expect him to be surrounded by a consuming fire of imminent death from burning pasta in water. Maybe it was supposed to be humorous, but there is no hint of it in the scene. For me, it simply establishes a weakness in his character...cooking over an oven in a turtleneck is not his thing.