FILM BRAKE: Syndicated Assignment

The spy series, Dangerous Assignment, aired on the NBC radio network in the summer of 1949 and finished its run in 1953. The American special agent, Steve Mitchell, aka Brian Donlevy, had assignments of international intrigue in pursuit of some nefarious spy or to rescue an operative in danger. He is sent to foreign locales, most of which he admittedly cannot pronounce, but they are all spelled the same: TROUBLE. With Donlevy's popularity, and acting as both the narrator and advocate, the show's suspense was high. Of course, radio had no shortage of suspense or private detective shows, and Donlevy's series was not unique.

Each program has Mitchell being summoned to the office of the Commissioner, played by Herb Butterfield, the regional head of an unnamed government agency created to address international unrest as it affects American interests. He will vaguely spell out the assignment, but give Mitchell a contact who will provide more specifics. Initially reluctant, Mitchell always dives in. He frequently poses as a foreign correspondent or newspaper reporter, sometimes encountering females who need his help or need to be turned over to the authorities.

The popularity of the radio show did not carry over as well for television's initial run. There was originality for these 1951-52 episodes to introduce the show by showing Mitchell, in a nineteenth-century top hat and overcoat, walking down a street near a foggy harbor on a chilly night. A momentary pause at a corner also includes a knife embedding itself into the wooden post he is standing by. Cue the same radio theme by Von Dexter. The producers might also dispense with the Commissioner's comments and simply place Mitchell in the midst of the action. The character's narration kept viewers abreast of his every thought, not unlike the radio version.

The Donlevy Development Inc. produced thirty-nine episodes with its own money and sold them to individual stations nationwide. NBC-TV Film Syndicate took charge of the promotion to entice local stations to sponsor the show, suggesting that Donlevy's popularity and the show's excitement could sell toothpaste in Toledo, beans in Boston, or some-such product in numerous broadcasting markets. Television writer and editor, Robert Ryf, wrote most of the scripts. The slightly “over-stocky” Donlevy appears to be a well-dressed brick with a hat when not wearing jungle attire. He often finds himself nursing a sore jaw or a bump on the head. Episodes conclude with Mitchell still alive, the conflict resolved, and sometimes with a humorous scene or quip.

What may have hurt the television version the most was taking the imagination of radio out of the equation. After the opening title scene, if one closed their eyes, it sounded nearly identical to the aforementioned radio format, complete with a suspenseful music cue for a sponsor's break. With the co-stars and scenery visualized and the radio series having conceivably run its course, the television version could hardly be called scintillating. But very little thought was given to adapting a radio format to the burgeoning field of television in 1950. It would take another eight years for this to happen successfully with Have Gun, Will Travel, running concurrently on radio and television for a while. Its radio format was completely reinvented with a unique, intelligent opening and a music theme unlike anything heard before for a Western. Casting the charismatic Richard Boone as Paladin was a huge factor over radio's John Dehner.

Notes: The State Department may have arranged a special discount if Mitchell only flew “TWA all the way.” For the purpose of continuity and budget constraints, his flights overseas featured promotional footage of the graceful Lockheed Constellation, taking off, cruising over Manhattan Island, or landing. This would not go over nearly as vividly on the radio.

The show had a popular extension through reruns, with initial interest running high. A 1957 chapter in The News Manual, TV and Radio Basics, indicates solid viewership, with women preferring the show slightly more than men. With the exception of the adult Western, many male-centered shows were generally favored by females during the era.

A BULLET FOR JOEY (1955)

Even the dependable Edward G. Robinson cannot keep this sleepy production awake for extended periods. His role is that of a Canadian Inspector. As usual, Robinson is genuine as he calmly, methodically tightens the net on criminals thanks to his undercover officers posted everywhere in Montreal. Sometimes I picked up the demeanor of the future Inspector Columbo and his quips. Other times, the role is closer to his tracking in The Stranger. This film sinks into a balance of crime scenes, police lab work, and consultation with Robinson. As the music score plays underneath, we are witness to amazing images of enlarged fingerprints, a Teletype machine, the FBI, and the Washington D.C. architecture.

George Raft garnered fame about twenty years before this film. His character's name is in the title. This movie is stifled by his wooden, one-dimensional characterization in a role that made him infamous. Ex-con Raft calls everyone Buster or Joker. Words that roll off his tongue with experience. Audrey Totter is another memorable face, but that may be because she appears in this film to be one-third Gloria Graham. She is Raft's former girl and is happy to be rid of him. With all his short-statured charm, he cannot believe it. Today, few could name the balance of the cast.

The film opens with an encounter between a hurdy-gurdy man and his money monkey. For purposes of identifying him, Raft is later shown this exact footage, as a supposedly personally shot 8mm movie. It is obviously the same footage from the opening by the United Artists' film crew. Common to the era, it is a story of the Communist Party's main function: spying and cheating. A brilliant nuclear scientist, George Dolenz, whose knowledge makes him a kidnapper's go-to man, is their target. Peter Van Eyck, smirking through the entire movie, offers Raft big money to get himself out of Spain to do the deed. Raft rounds up his old gang from around the globe, each with their own brief music theme befitting their geographic location. Against the plan, Totter is nonetheless pressured into befriending Dolenz to gain information.

While staking out a ship bound for Europe, Robinson is spotted and taken prisoner aboard the same ship. Robinson suggests that All-American Raft "do the right thing" by helping stop the plot. He ends up needing more than a raft to get back to dry land. God bless America. Totter and Dolenz get to continue their growing relationship, and judging by the wearisome countenance on Robinson's face, he will probably retire.

Note: As with most posters, this one suggests two famous cinema gangsters at odds with each other as the big draw for audiences. But Robinson was able to move on from his early signature role, whereas Raft never strayed that far from his roots.