IRON MAN (1951)

This eighty-two-minute film noir, directed by Joseph Pevney, is helped by a strong cast starring Jeff Chandler, Evelyn Keyes, and Stephen McNally. Produced by Aaron Rosenberg and distributed by Universal Pictures, it is a few notches below the likes of the previously released The Set-up or Champion, and despite the title, it is not a marvel. It will help to have an affinity for boxing, Hollywood style. Even so, this is simply another one from an extremely long list. Just enjoy watching these professionals perform.

The film is told in flashback through the eyes of Keyes, who gets effectively watery by the end. Agonizingly watching her husband, Chandler, in the ring for perhaps the last time, the film transitions to a “romantic” Pennsylvania coal town where we are introduced to the main cast. Among the hearty group of coal miners is James Arness in a small role. He is always bad-mouthing Chandler in the hopes of picking a fight. He apparently hates him because he seems smarter than himself. Not surprisingly, a cave-in occurs, but Chandler recovers. The other men trapped have an unknown future, as we never see them again. Due to the speculative encouragement by the older brother, McNally, Chandler never returns to the "miner leagues." McNally has always envisioned a future boxing career for his kid brother.

McNally is a thick-headed deal-maker, gambler, and manipulator out to make a buck, ignoring any knowledgeable advice. He remembers Chandler's explosive temper as kids would laugh at him because of his towering height. That killer instinct signifies a champion to McNally. However, after a few practice matches, his face becomes quite intimate with the mat. Fans start laughing at him for a different reason. But Chandler goes into a rage, ripping into his opponent in a savage display of anger. A smiling McNally blurts out, “There it is!” Unfortunately, McNally knows no more about what makes a boxer than Jack Benny.

Winning his bouts with unsportsmanlike conduct has earned him a reputation as a lousy fighter, and sportswriter Jim Backus says as much in his columns. He has no business being in the ring, and the crowds agree. McNally still thinks his brother will eventually gain his undeserved respect. In somewhat of a surprise, Backus turns out to be an understanding mentor of sorts as he learns of Chandler’s backstory. Oddly, Keyes feels totally responsible for Chandler’s fighting fate, when it is clearly McNally's fault.

Rock Hudson, who desperately wants to be called “Speed” when his time comes to get into the ring, sounds as though he inhaled a slight dose of helium. He comes across well as a golly-gee-whiz naive kid who thinks Chandler is the epitome of a champion. It does not take long, however, before Chandler’s lousy attitude alienates everyone in his circle. At the badgering of McNally, Backus informs the trainer to let Chandler fight the young upstart, now “Mister Speed.” The title bout is pretty exciting with the best boxing choreography of the film, though it all looks familiar. To everyone’s surprise, Chandler fights legit and gets the tar beaten out of him near the end of the match. The crowd’s boos turn to cheers out of respect and to the delight of the facially dented, nearly blind Chandler. He has used his face as a metaphor for obliterating his past.

THE FAT MAN (1951)

Universal Pictures released this crime film noir based on the popular five-year radio drama created by Dashiell Hammett. Directed by William Castle, the pacing is slow and offers zero excitement, with a screenplay by Harry Essex and Leonard Lee bearing some responsibility. The script could not be fully clarified without multiple flashbacks. One is a flashback within a flashback. The supporting cast is awarded at least one. At any rate, the frequency disrupts the film's flow. The film eliminates the imagination that radio can generate. Theater attendance made this clear, signaling a follow-up movie was not in the planning stages. 

J. Scott Smart reprises and finishes his role as the well-known private detective with a commonality with Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe, both having a passion for food with waistlines as proof. Smart is not nearly as smart, however. Simple investigative logic is all he needs to solve crimes. He can “cut a rug” on the dance floor and habitually addresses a female or male as “sweetheart.” His assistant is the befuddled and persnickety Clinton Sundberg, responsible for shuttling him around and designing his meals. He is very fastidious concerning meal preparation. 

The "Fat Man" is about to partake in a sizable gourmet lunch. A most inopportune time for Jayne Meadows to seek his counsel. She initiates the first flashback to help him understand her backstory. They become somewhat of a team in tracking down the murder of her boss, a dentist, and a missing set of X-rays. Thus begins the usual questioning of intertwined characters. Smart meets with Julie London on more than one occasion. She provides flashbacks about her husband, Rock Hudson, and his prison stretch from a million-dollar robbery organized by John Russell. Hudson's cellmate, Emmitt Kelly, learns of Hudson's demise and wants his share of the loot. A minor detail: Meadows and Hudson use their real first names for their characters, Jane and Roy, as in Roy Scherer Jr.

The performances sway like a pendulum. Meadows seems near-comatose throughout. London is in the same coma ward, though her coma breaks early. Russell adds interest to his scenes with his menacing brow, which fits a gangster, unlike Hudson, who is miscast. Teddy Hart steals his two scenes with Sundberg as “Shifty,” a short, weaselly, high-voiced Brooklyn informer. He teases Sundberg because he knows it exasperates him. But without a doubt, Marvin Kaplan's brief scene as “Pinkie” swings the pendulum far into the hilarity region. His distinct Brooklyn accent and his melancholy delivery were legendary. He and his brother-in-law and trucking firm boss, Edwin Max, dislike each other immensely. Max thinks Kaplan is a dimwit and incapable of a solid day's work. Kaplan's sarcastic banter with Max is delightful. It is not just for laughs, either. They provide the final clue for Smart to pinpoint the murderer. 

Note: Screen Gems created a second potential television series starring Robert Middleton. The never-aired 1959 pilot movie was a lackluster fifty-eight minutes, despite Middleton's suave and commanding performance and a fine turn by his crackling assistant, Tony Travis. This private detective charged $200 a day, indicating Jim Rockford was not keeping pace with inflation.