SHACK OUT ON 101 (1955)

This movie surely got lost on its opening weekend, but no need to apologize for their efforts. You will enjoy this rather unconventionally titled film. One might think this is a filmed stage play as ninety-five percent of the film takes place in a diner [set] along California's Highway 101. The viewer gets hooked in the first five minutes and past this point, the plot slowly unfolds. A story not about the life of Pie, but centering around a common theme during this period: national security. This slow-burn film has an interesting mix of humor and mystery during the “who do you trust” era. Condense this down to under sixty minutes and you would have one of the better Alfred Hitchcock Hour episodes.

All the diner's patrons interact with numerous one-on-one conversations. There is Lee Marvin, a character who swings from lecherous slob to comical buddy. Everyone's cliched short-order cook. If Marvin seemed to be under-appreciated mid-century he did not go unnoticed. He is quite versatile here, handling a pivotal dual role. He has a lot cooking but it is not chili. Keenan Wynn, the sarcastic eatery owner, does not like Marvin's attitude and apparently his cooking. Their verbal jabs is the daily routine. He and Marvin have the funniest scene during their weight-lifting challenge. It is full of sarcastic insults as each tries to out manly the other. Lean and lanky, Marvin is hilarious.

Throw in smokey-voiced tenor, Frank Lovejoy, with a few secrets; throw in a naive waitress, Terry Moore, and you have a reason to show up at the diner. Despite her top billing, this is Marvin's film. If you are expecting Whit Bissell to show up then you will not be disappointed. He plays the D-Day buddy of Wynn’s character. Len Lesser (Seinfeld’s Uncle Leo) and Marvin seem to have a long-standing relationship. Their odd mock "boxing match" at arm's length with opposite ends of a towel between their teeth would seem to have a childhood history.

Note: This eighty-minute suspense drama was directed by Edward Dein with a twisty screenplay by him and Mildred Dein. It was produced by William F. Broidy Productions and released by United Artists Pictures. The ever-present Paul Dunlap offered up the music score, starting off with a jazzy jukebox number.

FINGER MAN (1955)

There are few surprises in this eighty-two-minute Lindsley Parsons Productions project. Distributed by Allied Artists and directed by Harold Schuster, there were numerous films patterned in the same manner mid-century. Hats off, though, to William Sickner for his photography and Paul Dunlap for providing a solid score that fits the various moods nicely. The talky script is slow at times with a fair share of clichéd staging. It is an average effort and subsequent viewings will probably not be high on your list of priorities. As is so often the case, without an experienced cast, this film noir would not be nearly as watchable.

How unfortunate that Frank Lovejoy's short, thirteen-year career did not allow viewers to witness future projects. It seemed he was Hollywood’s go-to man when needing an average guy dealing with challenging situations. He possessed an intense, underplayed acting style that, more often than not, was effective. He could be a bit lackluster, too. Lovejoy does the voice-over narration reminiscent of his earlier radio program, Night Beat. Rather unusual to have someone at odds with the law tell his story in voice-overs. Most criminals end up dead in a routine film noir. 

Lovejoy is a petty criminal who has served time in the big house. He is also a talented “piano player” after a fashion. Probably the accompanist for the prison choir. To clarify, we never see the full keyboard of the upright piano he tickles at a nightclub. Not quite sure if he had a job at the club or if they just let me play when he shows up. Brought in for hijacking a truck, he is given a choice to either return to prison or help the U.S. Treasury Department take down a crime boss, the less-than-believable, Forrest Tucker. The studios or perhaps his agent may have struggled to find a niche for Tucker. This role does not seem the right one. If Lovejoy is successful in putting the finger on Tucker, his record will be washed clean. The worst that could happen is that he gets killed. Understandably, this factors heavily in his decision. After discovering his sister has become a drug addict thanks to Tucker, he is committed to the assignment.

The acting is believable with the possible exception of Timothy Carey (above), Tucker’s lunatic partner and sociopath. Carey could be the levity in this movie as his scenes elicit laughs. Yet nothing amusing about his disturbing desire to scar females’ faces before, during, or after killing them. Opposite a laid-back Lovejoy, he provides an over-the-top contrast. Discovering a past despicable deed, Lovejoy wants to attack him savagely. But before a blow can be landed, Carey immediately starts whimpering like a little child until he finishes his outrageous scene. An odd, one-dimensional character that has become classic Carey.

Lovejoy’s love interest, formerly employed by Tucker to pad his income, is Peggie Castle. Castle seems a bit too refined for the role. A “Jan Sterling type” would have been a more expected choice. She wants to turn her life around and Lovejoy demands the Treasury also clear her record if he is successful. He needs her help to get on good terms with Tucker. Things do not end well for Castle. Often noted is her final scene crossing a darkened intersection while Lovejoy watches her for the last time from his second-story apartment. The best noir element in the film or several other films.

Tucker initially likes the short-fused Lovejoy but his opinion changes rather quickly after an undercover detective, assigned to keep tabs on Lovejoy, is fleshed out. There is no escape for the panicky Tucker. Just a reservation at the San Quentin “motor lodge” where the yearly rate is the best value. Lovejoy’s final voice-over, walking away from the camera down a darkened sidewalk, indicates he hopes to start a new life. Help people like his sister or Castle. If he lives long enough.

THE SOUND OF FURY (1950)

“Violence is a disease caused by moral and social breakdown. That is the real problem, and it must be solved by reason, not by emotion. With understanding. Not hate.”

The above quote could apply to the present century. In this case, it is the timeless voice-over warning repeated at the end of the film. A film that will not come to mind when recalling classic films, but this forgotten gem provides, perhaps, the most contrasting opening and closing bookends in film noir history. Produced by Robert Stillman and released through United Artists, this ninety-two-minute crime drama is appropriately supported by a score by Hugo Friedhofer. The agonizing crescendo, one of the most unnerving twenty minutes on film, creates a wallop of an ending. The disturbing imagery is emblazoned long after the moviegoer has left the theater. This is not a film to binge-watch.

Also in contrast are two men drawn together by happenstance. Frank Lovejoy’s performance will leave your emotions in knots. An early standout role that began his first and only full decade of acting. He portrays a loving husband and father who moved to California to seek employment, but it has brought nothing more than frustration. His opening scenes are innocent and heartfelt, but with Lovejoy at his lowest point of self-loathing, he is very vulnerable to the slightest motivation for income. His chance meeting at a bowling alley with an arrogant Lloyd Bridges influences the naive and desperate Lovejoy. Call it, imperfect timing. Bridges enjoys the finer things in life, like a fancy wardrobe, preening in front of a mirror, and bowling. He is initially kind of likable. A guy with enough confidence to take charge. His subtle persuasion plays on Lovejoy’s hopelessness, and it is a master class in salesmanship. Both actors are superb, with personalities representing a spectrum of opposites.

Appropriately, Bridges professionally steals his scenes. A young, physically fit male in which social standing is everything. He is a cocky, petty thief who thinks he is invincible, believing he should be admired no matter what he is doing. I have become impressed with Bridges's early work. His charisma burned like magnesium aflame. As only his wheelman, Lovejoy’s first robbery experience does not weigh too heavily on his conscience. On the contrary, his new “employment” brings home enough money to encourage his expectant wife and young son and boost his self-esteem. This charade continues for some time. However, with Bridge’s ego expanding blindingly fast, he decides to up his game by kidnapping the young adult son of a wealthy millionaire. Lovejoy is extremely nervous about it. The kidnapping offers up some excellent camera work by Guy Roe. With Lovejoy’s help, the son is bound by ropes, then Bridges pushes him down a stone-covered embankment. The son rolls by the ground-based camera as the stones cascade toward the viewer in a blur. There is a surreal sense of depth looking up at the two, extra-tall tall distorted figures. With no masks hiding their identification, Bridges, in all his demented logic, brutally kills the son by smashing his head repeatedly with a huge stone. Pretty obvious he is not familiar with the term “ransom.” Lovejoy is instantly sickened. His close-up, with eyes tightly closed, personifies disgust and terror. His life's history passes before him.

Enter Richard Carlson, a local newspaper reporter who fuels his report with hate-filled rhetoric. He puts the “sin” in sensationalism and thrusts the locals into a frenzy. Thankfully, he had no social media account. But after meeting Lovejoy’s wife and reading his sincere letter of confession to her, he realizes his violent words have vastly overstepped the order of the law. Carlson’s close friend, an Italian psychology scholar, Renzo Cesana, confronts him about his lack of discernment and judgment. It is a Cesana quote that opens this film.

The foursome paints the town, spending Bridges' unearned cash. Thinking nothing of the murder. His “steady” is the appropriately attired Adele Jergens. Let us just say she has been around the block more than a few times. The performance of Katherine Locke is worth a mention. She becomes Lovejoy’s awkward and repressed blind date. He seems to take some comfort in Locke’s sensitive manner. His excellent portrayal of a man helplessly numb and detached from his current life or any future life is spot-on. When a nightclub magician repeatedly uses Lovejoy as his comic foil in full public view, we witness Lovejoy’s embarrassment of being in the spotlight, knowing his shame. He is the only person not laughing. Sitting at the table, Locke pays him awkward compliments in the hope that her small talk might foster a relationship with another total stranger. However, his turn to heavy drink leaves his mind susceptible to the truth, and he blurts out his recent crime. Now terrified, Locke realizes she has picked the wrong guy again.

The calm resolve and hopelessness on Lovejoy’s face behind bars indicate a man coming to terms with his short future. Yet he is frightened beyond words. His honest confession led authorities to Bridges. In total contrast, Bridges' excellent mimicry of a raging, caged animal is chilling. He threatens Lovejoy’s life in the adjoining cell, irrationally thinking he will break out. It reveals the true nature of a violent sociopath. Mob violence rules as both prisoners are seen being dragged from the jail and beaten. Lovejoy’s horizontal manhandling exit above the heads of the mob, mosh pit style, foretells future “aggressive mobs” at rock concerts some twenty-five years later.

Note: The film is based on events that occurred in 1933 concerning two men arrested for kidnapping and murder. The suspects confessed and were lynched by a mob of locals. The 1936 film “Fury” was inspired by the same incident. This film, reissued with the title “Try and Get Me!,” was seemingly to promote the singular, electrifying performance of Lloyd Bridges.

THE CROOKED WEB (1955)

Columbia Pictures released this Clover Production movie. The mid-20th century story and screenplay by Lou Breslow illustrate the reality of what the future Internet will be like. That not everything you see or read is true. It is a tale of clever deception so carefully planned that it has taken ten years to co-ordinate. Calling the premise a “con” is an understatement as seemingly everyone from America to Germany, on sea and land, has their role to play no matter how small, to capture Frank Lovejoy for his decade-old crime. Joining Lovejoy is handsome Richard Denning along with Mari Blanchard, California’s oldest carhop. This seventy-seven-minute drama was directed by Nathan Juran.

What the poster has to do with this film is a mystery. That lady is not in this movie. Lovejoy and Blanchard plan to wed and the audience is neatly strung along for thirty minutes until Denning shows up as her ne’er do well “brother,” establishing the crooked part. He has the scheme to unearth “buried treasure” left behind at the end of WW2, located within a current Army reservation. Just the amount of resources Lovejoy needs for a comfortable life in another country. Plenty of twists and deceptions to make this a pretty fun outing.

As trained government agents, Denning’s cleverness and Blanchard’s attractiveness come into play numerous times to regain Lovejoy’s confidence and quell his suspicions. Lovejoy comes off rather bland, to the point of almost being a bit dense. Hopefully, that was the way he wanted to play it. Logically, he never suspects anyone would spend a decade setting him up. He does fear a double-cross and at the last moment confesses to Blanchard of his past and seals his fate. Finding out who Blanchard really is offered him no encouragement, either.