BORDERLINE (1950)

There is not much of anything hard-hitting in this eighty-eight-minute crime noir-ette about narcotics smuggling. Directed by William Seiter with a decent screenplay by Devery Freeman, this Universal International-released B-movie eventually slipped between theater seats rather quickly. Fans of Claire Trevor or Fred MacMurray may be pleased, however. Fans of Raymond Burr, not so much, as his screen time carries less weight than he appears, playing a ruthless drug dealer in a widescreen suit. A music score by Hans Salter supports the film.

The opening establishes this extra-light comedy with Trevor slightly daft, as per Madeline Kahn some twenty years later. Trevor’s character is “Madeleine” by the way. Policewoman Trevor is being ignored as the right undercover officer to infiltrate the drug-dealing gang. With her face framed in a “V” between two male sleeves, their superior thinks she is not tawdry enough. Glancing her direction, one guy thinks she would probably pass. Two seconds later, Trevor's expression reacts to the remark. Another makes it a point to mention she was in the OSS during the war and speaks “Mexican,” training she never uses throughout the film.

The film cuts to Mexico as Salter’s score decidedly adds a theme seemingly pulled from a music library shelf labeled, “Mexican.” Trevor arrives by dusty bus, walks into a cantina, and in the very next frame, she is dancing in a chorus line! Their second assumed purposely humorous number has all six girls displaying their training from the Lucy Ricardo School of Music and Dance. A number that could have used at least one run-through backstage. None are in sync with the melody nor the difficult lyrics of 'la-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la.' Sounding uncomfortably like barnyard chickens. Trevor seems especially out of her element. It is a funny scene. She tries, in a not-so-subtle fashion, to get Burr to make eye contact. After making several passes, at one point she kicks her left, then her right leg high on both sides of him. I imagine the breeze felt good in the stuffy nightclub.

Trevor is making inroads into Burr’s circle of noir-do-wells, but all is interrupted when MacMurray enters the film with gun in hand, confronting Burr about a shipment of narcotics. He wants credit for the sale. There is a tussle, some gunpowder, and MacMurray absconds with Trevor, assuming she is part of Burr’s inner circle. Narcotics boss, Roy Roberts, arranges for them to pose as husband and wife as they head toward the borderline of a studio set. 

I could not accept Fred MacMurray as a hardened criminal, as his first screen appearance might suggest. He does wear a frown most of the way, but I expected dry quips at any moment. The script lightens up, and not surprisingly, so does MacMurray. No real secret, owing to the comedic music score. Avoiding the Mexican authorities, they ditch their strategically muddied car. Now on foot, there are shades of It Happened One Night, or It's A Wonderful World, as both share their phony background to hide their true identity. There are a lot of assumptions between them. The last ten minutes are worth the wait as big surprises await the leads. Other than the early tussle with the big Burr, the only real excitement comes in the last two minutes.

Note: This is purely an innocuous drama/comedy movie that happens to have respected leads. A film that starts promising and ends pleasantly enough. Trevor had a flair for subtle comedy. MacMurray was no stranger to comedy, either. But as a memorable film noir crime saga, it is borderline at best. 

FLIGHT TO TANGIER (1953)

I was not sure what to make of this Paramount Pictures film with the established and respected Joan Fontaine co-starring with newcomer Jack Palance. How could this possibly work? Thanks to a sleep-inducing, confusing screenplay, it does not. The audience may have been disappointed with Palance's 180-degree pivot from his signature role in Shane. Paul Sawtell's score, periodically, is grounded in adventure, but I think even he was not that inspired. Not too relevant to mention, but the film was produced in Dynoptic 3D. You will not miss it or figure out where it was used. Just enjoy the thespians doing their thing and the thick Technicolor. 

Joining Fontaine and Palance are Robert Douglas and Corinne Calvet. We have little clue as to their relationship, yet they all seem to know each other. It made me wonder if I missed the opening. Like the cast, the audience is on their own self-discovery adventure. Fontaine first appears distracted, wondering how to get out of this project or why she signed those papers at the studio. Calvet, with her legit, yet sounding clichéd French accent, may never have looked better than in light green. Douglas has the condescending tone of a scoundrel, so one can gather his intent in this movie. We find them all looking skyward from the Tangier airport for a DC-3's arrival. Though a plane can fly on autopilot, it cannot land with it. To their surprise, authorities find no one in or around the crashed plane. Missing in action is a courier, a briefcase with contents worth $3 million, and the pilot.

Everywhere Fontaine, Palance, and Calvet go in search of the plot...er...pilot and the courier, Douglas and his unethical entourage follow. In fact, more often than not, within eyesight of each other, near an adjacent set. There is a lot of horizontal camera panning, though the film goes nowhere. Pretty funny. This “action” repeats itself with hardly a hint of excitement or any chase, defining the word. Sooner or later, you are back with two groups devising their next plan. If you miss seeing the first half, just make sure you are there for the last fifteen minutes. The script allows Fontaine to reunite with the pilot, the courier, and the millions for a sudden ending. None of which explains why the film is ninety minutes long.

THE LONG HAUL (1957)

This film opens ominously late at night behind a contemporary, driving score with modern fonts. It has the intriguing feel of a possible Cold War drama. An Army truck comes to a halt near London, and out pops Victor Mature with his trademark countenance of superior sarcasm. His momentary heavy eyelids are not from an all-night drive. This will be his last delivery for the U.S. Army, and with his discharge sets his sights back on returning to America. His British wife would rather stay put to raise their family. After a moment of heated discussion, Mature realizes staying put is best for their marriage.

His lorry driving comes to an abrupt end, through no fault of his own, after an incident places Mature on Britain’s “do not call list.” Desperate for living money, he gets involved with a smuggling operation run by Patrick Allen. Allen’s girl, Diana Dors, has been under his control for some time. He treats her like any of his property. Keeping her looking cheap is anything but. In an intense exchange, she walks out on him and hides in Mature’s lorry. Mature opens the driver’s door, and the arrangement is not to his liking. She insists on going to any place else. She prefers a mature man much to Allen’s ire, and they begin an on-again, off-again affair with Mature’s marriage taking the brunt.

Always scheming, Allen wants to complete a money-making long haul of hot furs, and a sizable cash reward persuades Mature to drive. The middle seat is cushioned by Dors. How the three of them continue to get along is a wonder. The time-sensitive delivery through forest and mountain shortcuts is exciting, with literal cliffhangers at every turn. They cross a stream but get stuck on the embankment coming out. While Mature is trying to free up a wheel, Allen diabolically lets the lorry roll backward, hoping to mash Mature. A fistfight ensues with neither actor appearing to use a stunt double as they slosh around the water's edge. Allen is hit by a sliding container from the truck bed and then smothered under a mountain of falling fur boxes and drowns.

After delivering some soggy furs to the cargo ship on time, Mature and Dors take a cab back to town. Their route back was the better one for that fur delivery in hindsight. She begs him to run away with her. The money he got from the long haul is meant for his wife as a final goodbye gesture. Dors delivers it, and his wife delivers a slap across her face. Dors overhears talk of Mature’s son’s health (an earlier blow to the head from a fall has turned serious), but she is hesitant to mention it upon reentering the cab, which is pretty low-down. He knew nothing of the illness and would not leave his wife and son despite his impending arrest. Dors returns to her nightclub gig, and all live not so happily ever after.

Mature was past halfway down the slope of his long-haul career, and this film is one of his best late-career roles. Released the following year, his performance in China Doll runs a close second. It is hard to fault him in any of his prior projects, where he usually dominated the screen. Although at times self-deprecating about his career, he turns in a solid performance for a script that takes its time to unravel. Dors’ acting and vocal range cannot be faulted. She seems out of place in a crude trucker's cafe. Like burning magnesium, she is not hard to spot. Most posters used her image as a catalyst for ticket sales.

Note: Hollywood continued churning out this tired premise of the weak male having an affair. They have left out the weak part since, suggesting it is inevitable behavior. Guilt is still a conscience bender in late-fifties Hollywood.