THE CHASE (1946)

Michel Michelet's opening Cuban “piano concerto” for this film noir seems to fit crashing waves along an ocean shore. A place the female lead longs to be. It is befitting a passionate love story, too, but passion is in short supply during its eighty-six-minute run. He got plenty of mileage out of his score, doubling as a spinning record tune and for badly faked piano playing for this United Artists release. The score beyond this does not seem noticeably necessary. On the camera front, there are a few slow transitional shots that may try your patience. In particular, one long pause of the female lead as she stares out a ship's porthole window.

Robert Cummings plays a penniless Navy veteran with a small prescription bottle. His easy-going acting style made him friendly to audiences. His vocal tone is comforting and trustworthy. Just a nice young man. He is every bit that in this film. On the opposite scale is Steve Cochran, a ruthless Miami gangster with an accountant-assassin, Peter Lorre, who eliminates any competition by death. in another signature role, Lorre is always concerned about Cochran's expenses. Renowned French-born actress, Michèle Morgan, is Cochran’s property wife of three years. Cochran's rather brief screen time ignites the film, unlike Morgan's extended film time.

The film opens with a light moment as we witness Cummings salivating outside a diner window as a cook flips pancakes and turns bacon. In resignation, he departs, stepping on a wallet belonging to Cochran. After his breakfast, he returns the wallet and remaining cash to Cochran at his ostentatious mansion. Their first meeting is a gem. Being uncomfortable in his surroundings and fending off many questions, Cummings shyly admits he returned the wallet probably because he is just a sucker. This elicits a singular chuckle out of deadpan Lorre. Given his own lifestyle, Cochran is amazed that anyone would do this. He likes Cummings' unassuming nature and honesty. He is immediately hired as the new chauffeur while the current one is fired. Perhaps fired upon.

Cochran certainly has a screw loose upstairs. His menacing glare makes one wonder what is turning inside his head. He may also have a death wish of sorts. On the floorboard at the rear seat of his limo, he has installed an accelerator and brake pedals. He can override the chauffeur anytime he wants. He is quite amused by it though Lorre seems bored with it all. All the driver needs to do is steer. It brings a whole new dimension to driving dynamics. He surprises Cummings with his toy by going over one hundred miles per hour to beat an approaching train. Cochran applies the brakes just in time, only skidding about fifteen feet. A testament to the amazing stopping power of skinny, radial tires, drum brakes of the era, and the audience's gullibility.

Morgan came into Cochran's life with nothing and now wants to be let go the same way. Who better to arrange a getaway trip than a chauffeur. Thus begins a tedious, forty-minute middle section which is simply used to lead the audience on a fantasy journey by way of two subtle transitional film scenes. One may wonder why Cummings makes some clichéd decisions in the face of danger. Illogically, he leaves his meek persona behind to become a debonair risk-taker. Once he awakes in a cold sweat, your first words might be, “You have got to be kidding!” Cummings suffers from “anxiety neurosis” due to combat shock and it explains the prescription bottle he carries. In hindsight, though established better in other films, the dream excursion adds the only real excitement to the film. Too bad it never happened.

The recurrence of amnesia sends Cummings back to the Navy hospital to consult with his former Commander and current doctor, Jack Holt. In the back of his memory, Cummings seems to think he is supposed to be somewhere and constantly watches the time. To help take his mind off things, Holt takes him to a nightclub, the same haunt of Cochran. What are the odds? They sit on opposite sides of a partition. Intense. After taking a phone call, Holt is spotted by Cochran who was briefly a patient after his own discharge. Considering Cochran’s behavior, he should re-establish those appointments. Predictably, before Holt returns, Cumming's memory kicks in and he leaves to get Morgan off to Havana.

Near the film’s beginning, “Fats,” played by the famous announcer, Don Wilson, spotted Cochran’s new chauffeur buying tickets for Havana. Assuming they were for him and his wife, he mentions this during the aforementioned club scene. Awkward. The two gangsters are in extremely hot pursuit of his lousy, stinking, dishonest chauffeur. The ending scale model train/car chase is quite obvious but good movie-making. Still, the old sedan going one hundred ten miles per hour around thirty mile-per-hour curves is a bit much. Lorre, never a fan of Cochran’s pedal toy in the back seat, only hopes he and his rear-seated boss can again make the rail crossing before the train. Perhaps an alternate meaning behind the movie's title.

QUICKSAND (1950)

Mickey Rooney's characterization is legitimate as a young auto mechanic—an occupation he returns to four years later in, Drive A Crooked Road—who longs for a lifestyle he cannot afford in somewhat of an ego boost. Throughout the film, he provides his inner thoughts in voice-overs. His innocent borrowing of twenty dollars from the garage's cash register is only the beginning. Though he has every intention of paying it back the next day, his descent into crime pulls him down deeper as each misdeed gets riskier. The twenty dollars is soon forgotten. Rooney improves this film and keeps it from sinking. This film buried Andy Hardy for good.

Not helping is dangerous Jeanne Cagney, who is temptation personified. Saying she is well-known in the neighborhood is an understatement. Peter Lorre, the seedy owner of a penny arcade, could teach a detailed history class on Cagney's past. Barbara Bates plays the wholesome, unappreciated good girl who has taken her relationship with Rooney seriously. She rounds out the quartet of main characters. Like anyone not taking responsibility for their actions, Rooney's audible inner thoughts express his disgust with the “bad luck” that has befallen him since stealing twenty dollars from his employer's cash draw. Soon the twenty bucks are long forgotten. Things get so bad that Rooney ends up robbing a soused bar patron near the arcade and Lorre blackmails him over the robbing and in exchange for his silence, requests a new car. Between a rock and a hard place, the mechanic steals one from his garage. Cagney hatches a plan for Rooney to steal money from Lorre's arcade to pay for the car. She feels entitled to half so she can buy that mink coat she has lusted over. A driving suspense theme kicks in during the theft. A nightwatchman spots someone inside the arcade and fires a shot. Within all the darkness, a light bulb turns on for Rooney who parts company with the female quicksand. He offers what funds are left to his unethical boss who promptly attempts to call the police. The ominous suspense theme returns with good effect as Rooney viciously stops his boss from speed-dialing. He panics and runs.

Bates returns to see Rooney and the film to the end. She is head over heels in love with Rooney no matter what. In a surprising bit of unlikely good fortune, he hijacks a car driven by a sympathetic lawyer. The most unbelievable sequence in the script. After long driving advice, Rooney sends Bates and the lawyer back inland while he tries to sail south until things cool off. He quite literally, misses the boat but does not miss a bullet from one officer. The lawyer's car does a U-turn when its radio reports that Rooney's boss is recovering. The good news. The bad news is that Rooney is off to prison for a few years. All because of a lousy twenty bucks! Life is not fair, man. Bates promises to wait and I believe her. She is determined to get married.

Note: This United Artist release has an unintentionally amusing ending as three extras are seen peering in the car's rear window, jockeying for a better view inside the studio prop car, above. Those extras appear to be the first "photo bombers."