HIGHWAY 13 (1948)

Robert L. Lippert Productions churned out countless low-budget films. This project's budget came in under Sixty grand and Sixty minutes. It was distributed by Screen Guild Productions. Top billing goes to Robert Lowery, sans mustache. He is supported by Pamela Blake (below right), and Michael Whalen whom Lippert tapped into more than once, and everyone's favorite sardonic curmudgeon, Clem Bevins (below left), who plays her uncle. Whalen and Maris Wrixon both have pivotal roles.

Trucking was a popular movie theme during the early years of overland shipments with engines that could increasingly go the extra mile. It was a noisy, physical job to pilot a tractor or single-axle truck during the 1940s and 1950s. Sabotage was a sure bet premise. This film is not subtle about addressing this as the opening scenes use a constant barrage of trucks—at least one miniature—crashing over a cliff on a mountainous section of “jinxed” Highway 13. Out of sequence is a sedan that enthusiastically powers over a cliff. The driver, Whalen, survives, but his wife, the heiress to the trucking company, does not. After a period of recovery, he returns to the office and expresses to the owner his concern that the rash of driver eliminations is more than accidents. He seems sincere. He later meets the truck driver who found his wife after the fiery crash. Lowery. Imagine his surprise to see that Walen survived.

Bevins, whose age seems to always be pushing ninety, regularly checks the trucks over before the drivers hit the road again. Adjacent to the studio garage set is a diner set where Blake takes short orders. Lowery is a regular customer and after their back-and-forth teasing quips, it is apparent they are planning a future together. As per usual, Bevins is likable as “Pops” with disparaging remarks about coffee's effect on him. Not entirely on the up-and-up, however, he starts spreading rumors that Lowery may be responsible for the rash of crashes.

Walen hires a private detective to pose as their newest driver to investigate the sabotages. Expect the usual sped-up truck sequences as they power around a curve like a sports car. He and Wrixon try to pin his “accidental” death on Lowery. The climax involves an unconscious Lowery, a stowaway Blake and truck pilot, Bevins. With a strong bit of suspended disbelief, you might accept the unlikely and clichéd final sequence.

Note: One interesting historical element is the lost art of using a manual choke lever on the dashboard. Before electronic fuel injection, a manual choke provided a way to get the right mixture of fuel and air in the carburetor. It was mainly used during cold starts, especially in winter. A full choke at start-up, however, might “flood” the engine with too much fuel, making it nearly impossible to start immediately and a short waiting game ensues until the fuel drains from the carburetor. Once underway, pulling the choke all the way out would provide enough fuel to keep a vehicle slowly rolling without a foot on the accelerator pedal. Lowery does this early in the film (albeit a studio prop truck) as he opens the door, places his left foot on the running board and stands to get a better view of an accident ahead. Bevins also uses the manual choke in the movie's climax for his stunt double to jump from a moving truck.

THIEVES' HIGHWAY (1949)

This film is based on A. I. Bezzerides novel, Thieves' Market. Who better to write the screenplay. Directed by Jules Dassin and distributed by 20th Century Fox, it includes stunning cinematography by Norbert Brodine in and around San Francisco. Without a doubt, the most enduring element of the film is Dassin's directing, capturing the wholesale produce world. I had no idea fruit delivery could be so cut-throat. He also subjects the viewer to the realism of an unreliable delivery truck with a drive-train held together by sweat and blood from the owner's knuckles. Not far behind on the enduring scale is the cast of Richard Conte, Millard Mitchell, Lee J. Cobb, Valentina Cortese, and Barbara Lawrence.

Fans could not get enough of Conte, yet he is nearly typecast as another optimistic WWII veteran returning home to disappointment. The role is tailor-made for him as he seeks justice and revenge—not necessarily in that order—for his father's debilitating trucking accident. Conte spends the film trying to settle the score with Lee J. Cobb in a "plastic toupée." He is a swindling produce racketeer responsible for the “accident” and stealing his father's shipment. His trademarked angry frown is enough to sell his character. He is the classic bully who lacks any real courage and is ultimately downsized by Conte's tenacious pursuit—speaking of bleeding knuckles.

The aforementioned rickety, decades-old delivery truck owned by Conte's father is now in the greasy hands of his partner, Millard Mitchell, who consistently comes across as the most average soul one could encounter. The viewer is never aware he is acting. A character not loaded with book learning but is in command of an abundance of common sense. He is so genuine here, that one believes he really can repair the heap of abuse he is driving. On Conte's first meeting with him, they bump heads about money owed his father but Mitchell stands his ground on principle. This appeals to Conte's ethics. Mitchell is all too familiar with Cobb's tactics, and after their verbal sparring, they agree to exact revenge on him.

The partners cross paths with two wholesale scavengers competing for a profit, a rotund Jack Oakie—aka Slob—and his driver. Oakie provides subtle comic relief with a jolly nature but a shady approach whose primary purpose is to finagle a way to deliver produce with as little work as possible. Noting the heap Mitchell is piloting, it becomes routine to follow the truck in the hope it will die a quick death, inherit his load, then split the profits. But Oakie's underlying good nature grows on his competition.

Cobb's deeds continue by crippling a tire on Conte's truck. After the blowout, he pulls over onto the roadside bank of sand or loose dirt, his truck listing to one side. Why anyone would try to jack up a truck under these dangerous conditions makes little sense, nor is it a surprise something bad will probably happen. When the ancient jack collapses under the sandy soil, it provides the film with its first tense moment. But you cannot crush a lead actor at this point in a movie. Following not far behind is his lifesaver, Mitchell, who later discovers way too late about his cut brake lines during a clichéd downhill mountainous route. The scavengers witnessed the crash and the sabotage is all too familiar to Conte. To keep him at a distance, Cobb arranges a “girl for hire,” Valentina Cortese, to distract him. Her sensitive performance relaxes the film's middle and she is wise beyond his understanding, even suggesting his fiancée, Barbara Lawrence, is not as true to him as he thinks.

Thieves' Highway is a film noir that has plenty of content to pace it yet its ninety minutes plus seems a tad long. It is a satisfying film for the most part, yet not the first film noir that comes to mind about truck drivers. Except for the fruit angle, this melodrama seems all too familiar. Still, given the competent cast with Conte in another signature role, I imagine moviegoers were not disappointed.

Note: Considering Conte's cool projection of warmth, it is difficult to picture either Dana Andrews or Victor Mature in the lead role. Both were bandied around as the lead during the film's development. Mature had his own decent trucking film eight years later, The Long Haul.

DEATH IN SMALL DOSES (1957)

From a Saturday Evening Post exposé by Arthur L. Davis this film is based on factual accounts. The film was directed by Joseph M. Newman who had several notable B-movies already under his clapboard. A jazz-inspired score by Emil Newman and Robert Wiley Miller is used effectively over opening credits, all in modern, lowercase letters. This low-budget Allied Artists production is a well-cast “call to action” about the excessive use of addictive, mood-altering drugs. The viewer is locked in from the opening scene with headlights glaring down a dark highway. The theme is established as the driver, to stay awake, downs a handful of amphetamines, known as “bennies” (Benzedrine) or “co-pilots” to truck drivers. His subsequent hallucination drives him over a cliff.  As is often the case with any old movie, regardless of budget, there are a couple of unintentionally funny scenes of note.

Handsome, likable Peter Graves plays one of the numerous FDA agents sent undercover to find out who is supplying drivers the illegal pills. This may be the best B-movie production of his career as a man with undercover experience. His “off the top of his head” suggestion for a phony alias and routine cover for this sort of thing is pretty funny. And not even questioned by his supervisor. He decides to be a widower from...um... Indianapolis...um...who has been drifting for...um...five years working at various...um...jobs. Perfect!

You will not forget Chuck Conners' standout performance. One might think he is over-acting, but on the contrary, he sells the harmful effects of drug addiction vividly. Connors hams it up as a hopped-up-hepcat big-rig driver. He and “Bennie” can go the distance on the highway or the dance floor. His flirtations with the diner waitress, Merry Anders, is a favorite pastime. Sleeping is for losers, in his altered mind. When Graves becomes a border in the same house as Connors, the automobile buff will wonder who owns the Thunderbird convertible curbside. Once Connors “blows the cameraman off his feet” with his first appearance, the owner is revealed. His climatic, hallucinogenic ride, almost drives him insane, and nearly kills Graves in the process before getting him the medical help needed.

Mala Powers, who runs the trucker's boarding house, looks sheepishly uncomfortable when Graves checks in. Like she killed her dog a couple of hours before after he peed on the carpet. Graves' phony backstory plays to her emotions and they soon become attached at the lips. She will be quite surprised to learn he is just a professional doing his job. So there is little surprise for the moviegoer that they have no future together. Typically, Harry Lauter is just too nice as Power's thoughtful “brother-in-law.”

Routine stops at a service station introduce us to the owner, Robert B. Williams, as “Dunc.” The amiable character is the driver's primary pill physician, but he is not the kingpin. When the pill-pusher gang finds out the identity of Graves he is abducted and taken to a remote location. Against his will, Williams is also “taken for a ride” and then commanded to dig a grave for Graves. Sensing a chance to sway Williams' actions, Graves tells him he is also dispensable. “Dunc, you better make that two graves.” After that unintended pun, Williams places the shovel upside of the head of the drug kingpin. After a few stray and deadly bullets, Graves returns to town to wrap up his assignment. Powers' hysteria of being arrested at the end is a bit much.

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 a 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 more than halfway down the slope of his long-haul career and with a couple exceptions, this might be his best late-career serious role. 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.