RED LIGHT (1949)

George Raft is the successful owner of a large trucking firm. His bookkeeper, Raymond Burr, is sent packing on embezzlement accusations. The scene shifts to Burr and his fellow inmates watching a newsreel which includes highlights of Raft welcoming his young brother home from the war. Raft would seem to be more mayor than businessman to rate a newsreel feature. As the film's “reel of revenge” turns in Burr's mind, the projectionist, Henry (Harry) Morgan, is in the same frame of mind. The clipped, monotone dialogue between them is an unintended humorous exchange of two vengeful guys. Morgan was adept at playing disturbed, simple-minded individuals. Again, he is downright scary here. Also typical of his early film career, Burr is cold-blooded. Embezzlement was nothing. Expect another hanging lamp over his shoulder in the otherwise darkness. With nearly four years behind him, Morgan is due for prison release—on good behavior—and follows through with Burr's request. Kill a minister of the Gospel. Raft's brother.

This is a good example of a forgotten film noir in the waning months of a challenging decade. It is a solid endeavor with a flashback or two, unexpected twists at the end, and more than its share of assumptions. The cast is a no-fault affair of respected actors with a familiar Raft in a fedora pursuing personal justice. The film is based on the story by actor Don "Red Ryder" Barry, "This Guy Gideon," with an underlying Biblical lesson about vengeance and who will ultimately administer it. The misleading change of title is understandable, as few would buy a ticket if Raft were a Gideon Bible salesman. But not much thought seemed to go into it. The film is not about traffic violators in San Francisco, though the opening credits over a dark background are revealed to be the tunnel approaching the Golden Gate Bridge. I sort of get it. Red means stop. The eighty-three minutes is competently directed and produced by Roy Del Ruth and distributed by United Artists. It possesses the quintessential harsh shadows and engaging camera angles of cinematographer Bert Glennon. Still, the film would lack a great deal of depth without the rolling thunder score by Dimitri Tiomkin. His pounding rhythm elevates the film several notches. His repeated motifs—some from an earlier composition—are appropriately applied with a subtle recurring adaptation of Schubert's Ave Maria.

The final cryptic words to Raft from his brother, Arthur Franz, mention a Bible. Raft's assumed lead is to search the scriptures for a clue to the murderer's name. Rifling through the pages is a time-consuming waste of time for him. He prefers pounding the pavement in search of the Gideon Bible stolen from a particular hotel room. Burr, now also out from behind bars, wants to bury the hatchet and seek work with his previous employer. While there, he overhears Raft recounting his brother's last moments to his trusted employee, Gene Lockhart. Burr assumes he needs that book first. The middle of the film has Raft seeking his own revenge, interacting with an assortment of characters who had stayed in that particular room. The most fortuitous is Virginia Mayo, who agrees to help in his search, though she soon tires of his lack of forthrightness. It is a pretty strong role for her and appropriately not ostentatious.

Raft's next lead takes him to Reno, and is soon aware Morgan has tailed him. He sets up a sting with what looks like an indexed Bible and purposely leaves it unattended on a counter. Morgan takes the bait. At gunpoint, Raft ushers him off to the hotel room he shares with Burr. The murderer discovers it is nothing more than a cookbook. There is a brief tussle before Morgan escapes out the window, taking a bullet with him. Later on the train back to San Francisco, he tells Burr he is through with getting shot at. Burr understands. An uppercut knocks Morgan from the speeding train.

Mayo has found the specific Bible and points out to the myopic Raft that his brother simply wanted him to read what he had circled, Romans 12:19—his plea to not seek revenge, along with a personal handwritten scribble for Raft. Cue the Ave Maria melody. It is the start of Raft's transformation. Burr, the elephant in the room, shows relief in his soft, boxy face. Imagine his surprise when face-to-face with the smoldering, bleeding Morgan, whose revenge is unsuccessful but proves that one may survive a header off a speeding train if you are in a Hollywood movie. Raft's rooftop neon company sign is the next staging area for the usual Hollywood chase upwards to nowhere. The viewer expects the obligatory death plunge by Burr, only bouncing a couple of times after hitting the pavement. But it becomes a science lesson that rain and electricity should not simultaneously come together. Fried Burr-ito.

Note: A particularly cruel and startling segment involves Raft's trusted employee, Lockhart, his trucking dispatch officer. It is a dark evening when he makes his way to his car. It will not start. The distributor wires have been cut. Burr is hiding in the shadows, waiting for his moment. Lockhart is spooked and stumbles backward under a truck's trailer. Burr calmly approaches and kicks the jack away, which is suspending the trailer. 

JET OVER THE ATLANTIC (1959)

With obvious roots in The High and The Mighty, this B-movie uses the first few notes of that film's main theme. Not exciting enough to be a thriller, the film does fall into the disaster category. The script perforations are numerous and the only storyline of importance is whether Guy Madison will be arrested by FBI agent, George Raft, who resembles Inspector Gadget in the opening sequence. This review will be brief.

George McCready plays a wealthy deranged man who feels responsible for his young daughter’s death. It is not clear why. McCready had a distinctive voice, a menacing growl of respectability that sounded like he had not gotten over a massive head cold. He is convinced that killing all the people on the plane, including himself, will make amends. He meets a character before the flight who does his best Peter Lorre impersonation and hands over a wrapped chemical bomb or is it a deli-wrapped ham? As deadly as a five-pound frozen ham can be upside the head, this device triggers a toxic chemical into the cabin to kill the pilots but drowsiness is the only danger to the passengers. One asphyxiated pilot informs the passengers of their status in a voice of groggy, unintelligible doom. I suspect not very comforting. Autopilot saves the day.

There are the usual annoying characters onboard. All may remind you of the famous Zucker Brothers' air disaster comedy without the intended humor. There is a wedding for Madison and co-star Virginia Mayo during the flight in a "rear lounge" large enough for a cruise ship. Raft is nearly shot by McCready but Madison saves his life. Gunshots ring out several times while in flight. The script is bound and determined to bring the plane down one way or another. Fortunately, Madison flew 4-engine planes during the war. The airplane's interior studio cockpit has no windows for the pilot yet he still lands the plane safely. We learn that he was framed and having saved everyone on board, Raft has the last words about Madison, “Yeah. Quite a guy.”

This over-long ninety-five-minute film was typically a cornerstone of a double feature. Meaning the bottom. The production team includes director Byron Haskin, noted for the original The War of The Worlds classic, and was produced by Benedict Bogeaus. Distributed by Inter- Continent Releasing Organization, Irving H. Cooper is responsible for the screenplay as is the soap opera score by Louis Forbes. Guy Madison bailed out of American Films after this flight.

Notes: A pet peeve of mine is the inconsistent editing of airliners in most B-movies. There were other ways to transition a scene without splicing in the wrong airline or aircraft. This film is a prime example. The pilots begin taxing a Bristol Brittania airliner. The pilots are completely unaware that when their plane takes off, it becomes a Boeing 377 Stratocruiser. Continuing the poor editing trend, the plane is cruising at altitude but the insertion clip shows the landing gear down. They probably will not have enough fuel to make New York City anyway with all that drag.

The British-built Brittania, the pinnacle of turbo-prop travel, arrived too late to be a success. Jet airliners dominated the market. So the title of this film is out of whack. To be fair, many referred to turbo-props as jet-props in the day. Admittedly, “Turboprop over the Atlantic” does not roll off the tongue and the advertising department could not use “Turbo-prop” in place of “Jet-Hot.”