WITHOUT HONOR

Laraine Day and Franchot Tone

WITHOUT HONOR (1949). Director: Irving Pichel.

Jane Bandle (Laraine Day of Foreign Correspondent) is a bored and neglected housewife whose husband, Fred (Bruce Bennett of Smart Girls Don't Talk), frequently leaves her alone and who insists he wants no children. She enters into an affair with Dennis Williams (Franchot Tone), who claims to love her to such an extent that he wants to leave his wife, Katherine (Agnes Moorehead) and daughters. But when Dennis gets wind that Fred might be having him followed, he gets cold feet and wants to end his relationship with Jane. Things spiral out of control and who should show up but nasty Bill (Dane Clark of Whiplash), Fred's jealous brother, who has reasons for despising Jane. He's also invited Mr. and Mrs. Williams to come over for a chat, but none of the players, including a clueless Fred and despairing Jane, realize that Dennis may be permanently out of the picture. 

Day with Dane Clark

One could quibble with certain aspects of Without Honor, but on its own terms it's a credible and absorbing -- and certainly unpredictable -- melodrama with a good script by James Poe. The performances are quite good across the board, and while Pichel is no Hitchcock he keeps things moving and manages to build up a degree of suspense. Another "player," as usual, is composer Max Steiner, who provides good back-up for the goings-on, with some of the catchy music acting as counterpoint to the generally grim proceedings. Without Honor has certainly gotten mixed reactions from viewers, with some hating almost every aspect of it and others finding it a bit unique and different. Count me in the latter camp.

When Ladies Meet: Agnes Moorehead with Day

Bill hates Jane because years before he made a pass at her while she was dating his brother and she made a fuss about it, perhaps somewhat altering the relationship between the two men. Some viewers feel that Bill has incestuous sexual feelings for his own brother -- the notion that Bill is in love with Fred might make more sense if Bill was Fred's best friend and not his brother -- but while Bill does come off like a rejected lover (of Fred's) due to the intensity of Clark's performance, I don't think that was the film's intention (although Poe did deal with homosexual characters in his adaptations of plays by Tennessee Williams).

Verdict: Unusual and arresting film that never quite goes where you expect it to. ***1/4. 

POLLYANNA

Hayley Mills

POLLYANNA  (1960). Director: David Swift. 

Now that she has become an orphan, young Pollyana (Hayley Mills) is shipped off to a small midwestern city where she is to live in a mansion with her stern and uncompromising Aunt Polly (Jane Wyman). So as not to disturb her sleep, Polly gives her niece the smallest room up in the attic. Despite her travails, Pollyana has the most upbeat nature in the world, and refuses to see defeat in anything or anybody. Mayor Warren (Donald Crisp) wants the town to build a new orphanage while Polly -- the wealthiest citizen, who happens to own the building -- thinks all it needs is new plumbing. When everyone decides to hold a fair to raise money for the new orphanage, Polly forbids her to go, but she sneaks out anyway, nearly leading to tragedy. 

Mills with Richard Egan

A very popular movie in its day -- and the first film Mills did for Walt Disney -- Pollyana is undeniably entertaining and generally well-acted, especially by young Ms. Mills. A sub-plot has to do with the romance between Polly's assistant Nancy (Nancy Olson) and George Dodds (James Drury), not to mention Polly's interactions with old flame Dr. Chilton (Richard Egan). Pollyana also interacts with the hypochondriacal Mrs. Snow (Agnes Moorehead, badly over-acting); the weird recluse Pendergast (Adolphe Menjou); orphan boy Jimmy (Kevin Corcoran); grumpy maid Angelica (Mary Grace Canfield); the termagant Mrs. Tarvell (Anne Seymour); peppery cook Tillie (Reta Shaw); and the amazingly wishy washy and weak Reverend Ford (Karl Malden). Pollyana offers a surprisingly negative portrait of the minister, although he does eventually grow a spine. 

Egan with Jane Wyman

Pollyana is a little too long - surely the little ones in the audience grew impatient, not to mention needed bathroom breaks? -- and the whole business with Pendergast and his prisms that create rainbows gets tiresome very quickly. How faithful the film is to its turn of the century period I can't tell. Despite the open-endedness of the finale, the movie is extremely pat in virtually solving all of the problems of the characters with what seems like the snap of a finger -- this is almost funnier than anything else in the movie. Still, if you can take all that with a grain of salt, the movie may work for you. It is fun. 

Verdict: Classic Disney film with a fine lead performance. ***. 

'CHARLOTTE" REVISITED

"Hush ... Hush, Sweet Charlotte"

HUSH...HUSH, SWEET CHARLOTTE (1964). Director: Robert Aldrich.

NOTE: My original review read as follows: 

"She's not really crazy. She just acts that way because people expect it of her."

This film seems to get better with the passage of time. Originally this was meant to be a follow up to What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? re-teaming Bette Davis with Joan Crawford (who would have been great in the picture and should have completed it) but Crawford quit the production and Olivia de Havilland stepped in -- with happy results. As others have noted, watching sweet "Miss Melanie" of Gone With the Wind doing the things that de Havilland does as Miriam gives it all an added kick.

Olivia De Havilland and Joseph Cotten

Charlotte Hollis (Bette Davis) lives alone in a forlorn mansion that is about to be torn down to make way for a bridge. She calls on the only family she has left -- cousin Miriam Deering (de Havilland) -- to come and help her, but Miriam has other things on her mind. For most of her life Charlotte has been the chief suspect in the mutilation murder of her lover, John Mayhew (Bruce Dern), a supposedly sensitive soul who wrote a love song to Charlotte (the title tune) and put it in a music box. Charlotte is haunted by her lost love and by her feeling that it was her father (Victor Buono in a bravura turn) who killed him.

Bette Davis as Charlotte

Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte takes a cast of golden age stars and character actors and places them in a classy production with a sop to the teen audience via the graphic, well-executed (pun intended) murder scene that almost opens the picture, and which is actually bloodier than the Psycho murder of 1960 (we never do learn what became of the poor man's head and hand, which were apparently carried off by the murderer). This alone predisposed many 1964 critics to dismiss the film out of hand, although the rest of the film is entirely tasteful. Not only tasteful, but extremely well done. Aldrich's direction and handling of the suspense scenes is far superior to his work on Baby Jane. Joseph Biroc's cinematography is consistently outstanding and the production values first-rate -- this is one good-looking movie. (Frank) DeVol's musical score is extremely effective. One could argue that Baby Jane had a kind of cheapjack feel to it, but that is definitely not true of Charlotte. The screenplay by Henry Farrell and Lukas Heller, while it may at one point borrow a plot gambit from Diabolique, is suspenseful and full of great dialogue. Most scenes, such as a murder on a staircase and the bitter arguments between the neurotic principals, are handled with great dramatic flair.

Olivia de Havilland

And then there's the acting. Davis gives one of her finest latter-day performances, getting across the pathos of the character as well as her mania. (Her pantomime at the end as she reads a letter with tremendously important information in it is marvelous.) As Miriam, Olivia de Havilland is on target from her entrance until the final moments. Witness her wonderful delivery of her rejoinder to Dr. Bayliss. "You were always free with your compliments. It was your ... intentions... that were a little vague." As the charming if reptilian Bayliss Joseph Cotten offers another dead-on characterization. Agnes Moorehead almost walks off with the picture as the unfortunate housekeeper Velma. Mary Astor, Cecil Kellaway, and others offer highly superior supporting performances.

Hush...Hush deserves to be recognized as a certified classic.

Verdict: Fascinating! ****.

2020 UPDATE: Oddly, although the plot line isn't as original as in Baby Jane, Hush ... Hush is, I believe, the better picture, even if I might take one half star away from my verdict. Although she is very good, there is no way Davis would ever have received an Oscar nomination for this film as she did for Baby Jane -- her scene on the staircase when she supposedly descends into gibbering madness is more comical than anything else. It doesn't make much sense that Charlotte would stay in town where everyone thought she was a cleaver-wielding lunatic just to cover up for her father (who she thinks is the real murderer) -- she could have gone anywhere and everyone would have still thought "she done it." Then we have the question of the murder itself. It takes a great deal of strength to cut off a man's hand with a meat cleaver with just one blow, not to mention a head with a few whacks. How could anyone think Charlotte could have done it, let alone the real killer, maniacal strength notwithstanding? (And why on earth did the killer walk off with the head and hand?) Also the two villains of the story had to count on an awful lot happening, on Charlotte falling in with their plans, for things to work out as they do. On close inspection the whole Gaslight plot seems highly suspect. But these are quibbles -- as the movie is extremely entertaining if you just suspend disbelief. A scene with a corpse falling sideways and threatening to reveal itself to a reporter at the door of the mansion is terrific!

Verdict: Diabolical story of resentment and revenge --- lots of classy if ghoulish fun. ***1/2.  

THOSE REDHEADS FROM SEATTLE

Gene Barry and Rhonda Fleming

THOSE REDHEADS FROM SEATTLE (1953). Director: Lewis R. Foster.

Mrs. Edmonds (Agnes Moorehead) brings her four daughters from Seattle to the Klondike to meet up with her husband, a reformer who is trying to clean up the town during the gold rush. Unfortunately, when they arrive they discover that the man has been murdered. The chief suspect is saloon owner Johnny Kisco (Gene Barry of Burke's Law), who does what he can for the ladies, including giving one daughter, Patricia (Teresa Brewer) a job as an entertainer in his club. Her sister Katherine (Rhonda Fleming of The Killer is Loose) falls for Johnny and vice versa, but she can't deal with the rumors about his part in her father's death. Patricia winds up on the outs with the rest of her family as Katherine, taking over her late father's newspaper, does her best to run Johnny out of town.

Teresa Brewer

With a storyline like that you wouldn't think that Those Redheads from Seattle would be a musical, but it is; unfortunately it was produced by Paramount and not MGM. The songs are by a variety of composers and lyricists, some of whom went on to better things. But the big problem is that you would think the movie would have employed some famous musical stars, but neither of the two leads really do any singing (Barry later wound up starring on Broadway in La cage aux folles, but he was no great shakes as a singer). Teresa Brewer can sing, more or less, but the less said about her overbearing style the better -- as actress she is more palatable, but this was her only movie. There's only one halfway memorable song anyway, "I Guess It Was You All the Time," very well sung by Guy Mitchell, who plays Johnny's buddy, Joe. This was Mitchell's first movie. Essentially a vocalist, he had only a few credits on TV and in pictures.

Moorehead with Fleming, Brewer and one Bell Sister

Barry and Fleming make a pretty good team, even if they barely talk to one another throughout most of the movie. Moorehead is as terrific as ever as the somewhat feisty widow. The other two daughters in the film are played by "The Bell Sisters," about which little is known -- this was their only movie. The last few minutes of the film are taken up with a shoot out between Johnny and the real murderer as he tries to bring him in to clear his name, an abrupt shift in tone that doesn't bring nearly enough excitement to the proceedings. On a whole, the movie is pleasant enough, but aside from some of the performances there's little to distinguish it from numerous mediocre musicals. NOTE: This was originally released in 3D, probably the first musical to do so. Not that it helped that much.

Verdict: If we must have western-melodrama-musicals, this one will do until something better comes along. **1/2. 

CAGED

Formidable Hope Emerson towers over the tough Betty Garde

CAGED (1950). Director: John Cromwell.

'If it weren't for men, we wouldn't be in here."

"If you stay in here too long, you don't think of guys at all -- you just get out of the habit."

A 19-year-old named Marie (Eleanor Parker), who may or may not have participated in an armed robbery with her now-dead husband, is sent up the river for one to fifteen. While having her baby, Marie is introduced to a motley crew of pretty tough career criminals of the female gender: Kitty Stark (Betty Garde), who wants to get Marie into the rackets; Elvira Powell (Lee Patrick), the super-hard queen of vice; June (Olive Deering), who is desperate to get paroled; Georgia (Gertrude Michael), who thinks she comes from society and is losing her mind; elderly Millie (Gertrude Hoffman) a lifer who'll think nothing of taking out a hated matron if she has to; spacey Emma (Ellen Corby) who finally murdered her husband after four previous attempts;  and others. Speaking of matrons, we have the relatively kindly head of the isolation ward, played by Jane Darwell, and the fat, sadistic and highly formidable Harper, played by Hope Emerson. Harper and Kitty are, in particular, major antagonists and sooner or later something will blow ... Caged has been dismissed in some quarters as camp (sometimes because of the not very subtle lesbian inferences), which is completely unfair, as the movie is a powerful, completely absorbing drama with excellent performances and one compelling scene after another: a disappointed inmates' suicide; the jailhouse riot over a kitten; the physical and psychological battles between Harper and Stark; and the compassionate warden, Ruth Benton (Agnes Moorehead), having to deal with the infuriatingly disinterested and misogynous parole board and other dumb-headed politicians. Caged doesn't say that most of these women don't belong where they are, only that their imprisonment is punishment enough and abusive behavior among the matrons should be prohibited. Parker, who was nominated for a Best Actress Oscar and should have won, is superb, as are Hope Emerson (nominated for Best Supporting Actress) and Betty Garde; and there is notable work from Moorehead and hard-boiled Patrick, as well as Taylor Holmes as clueless Senator Donnelly. John Cromwell's direction helps give the film a major dramatic punch after 66 years, and Max Steiner's score is subdued but effective. Caged engendered several inferior imitations -- Women's Prison, Blonde Bait, House of Women, a nominal remake with absurd situations not in the original, Betrayed Women -- and practically created a new sub-genre still going today. However realistic Caged may or may not be regarding conditions in women's prisons then or now, the story still packs a wallop.

Verdict: Perhaps Parker's finest hour -- as well as Emerson's and Garde's. ****.

FRANKENSTEIN: THE TRUE STORY

The Three faces of Michael Sarrazin

FRANKENSTEIN: THE TRUE STORY (1973 telefilm). Director: Jack Smight.

"Violence may be unavoidable, but clumsiness is inexcusable."

This re-imagining of the Frankenstein story certainly has an interesting cast, with James Mason stealing the picture as Dr. Polidori (an acquaintance of Mary Shelley's who was not in her novel, as well as the tragic author of The Vampyr). Leonard Whiting is Victor Frankenstein, with Michael Sarrazin [The Reincarnation of Peter Proud] as the creature. Jane Seymour [Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger] turns in sterling work as both Agatha, and Prima, sort of the Bride of Frankenstein, who falls to pieces in the film's grossest, most bravura sequence. Other notable performances come from David McCallum as Henri Clerval; Agnes Moorehead as Mrs. Blair; and Ralph Richardson as Mr. Lacey. The telefilm also employs the talents of John Gielgud, Tom Baker [The Vault of Horror], Michael Wilding, and Margaret Leighton, but even an impressive cast can't disguise the fact that this in no way compares to the original story. This is more akin to Marvel Comics than to Mary Shelley, and often borders on the burlesque.

Verdict: Fun enough for non-discriminating Frankenstein fans. **1/2.

THE LOST MOMENT

Robert Cummings and Susan Hayward

THE LOST MOMENT (1947). Director: Martin Gabel.

"It's only being with people that makes one lonely."

Publisher Lewis Venable (Robert Cummings) comes to Venice hoping to obtain letters written by the late poet Jeffrey Ashton to the now-aged Julianna Borderau (Agnes Moorehead). Lewis pretends to be an author seeking an atmospheric place to write his novel, and pays an exorbitant fee for rooms in the manor owned by Julianna, who lives with her niece, Tina (Susan Hayward). Both women seem to be keeping secrets regarding Ashton, who simply disappeared many years ago. The Lost Moment sort of uses the basic framework for Henry James' novella "The Ashton Papers," but is turned into an unconvincing psychological mystery with an expected resolution. Cummings [Saboteur] is okay, but not well-cast, and Hayward [I'll Cry Tomorrow] is better as a woman undergoing an identity crisis, while an unrecognizable Moorehead [Dark Passage] certainly scores as the crone-like Julianna. Joan Lorring, Minerva Urecal and Eduardo Ciannelli offer flavorful supporting performances.

Verdict: This dies a slow death long before the conclusion. **.

SUMMER HOLIDAY

Mickey Rooney and Marilyn Maxwell

SUMMER HOLIDAY (1948). Director: Rouben Mamoulian.

In this musical adaptation of Eugene O'Neill's "Ah, Wilderness!" Mickey Rooney plays Richard Miller, the teen son of a solid Connecticut family. Richard is always trying to stir the pot with his radical political ideas, even as his Uncle Sid (Frank Morgan) hopes to gain the hand of Cousin Lily (Agnes Moorehead) in marriage. Richard has a girlfriend in Muriel (Gloria DeHaven ) but out on the town with a friend he encounters hooker-hard showgirl, Belle (Marilyn Maxwell). Unfortunately, none of this leads to anything very interesting and eventually the flick becomes quite tiresome. Rooney is as good as ever, as are Moorehead, and Walter Huston as the boy's father, and Maxwell makes a minor impression as the showgirl. The songs by Warren and Blaine might be the type that need to grow on you, but on first hearing they don't linger in the mind. This is Eugene O'Neill as filtered through Andy Hardy! The same play was also turned into a Broadway musical by Bob Merrill called "Take Me Along" with Jackie Gleason playing Uncle Sid.

Verdict: Scene by scene this might mimic O'Neill, but there's something missing. **.

THE TWILIGHT ZONE: SIZE IS RELATIVE

"Stopover in a Quiet Town"

"The Fear" with Mark Richman

Agnes Moorehead in "The Invaders"

"The Little People"

The classic "To Serve Man"

THE TWILIGHT ZONE: Size is Relative.

During its several years on the air, The Twilight Zone broadcast several stories that had to do with the size of human beings or other things. Some were memorable, and others were not.

The Invaders. Season 2, episode 15. Written by Richard Matheson and directed by Douglas Heyes. Agnes Moorehead plays a farm woman who comes across a tiny spaceship filled with equally small astronauts. At the end we learn that this ship is actually a "U.S. Air Force Space Probe" that the old lady has smashed. This is mostly a silly burlesque. C+

The Fear. Season 5, episode 35. Written by Rod Serling and directed by Ted Post. Police officer Mark Richman and resident Hazel Court encounter what appears to be a humongous space man in an isolated area. This has some suspense, even if it could be dismissed as silly "comic book" stuff. B-/C+.

The Little People. Season 3, episode 28. Written by Rod Serling and directed by William Claxton. Two astronauts come across microscopic people on a planet and one of them plays God, until he realizes to his horror that he's not the only one who's out of proportion. This is a bit hokey, like an old comic, but it boasts fine performances by Claude Akins and particularly Joe Maross. B-.

Stopover in a Quiet Town. Season 5, episode 30. Written by Earl Hamner Jr. and directed by Ron Winston. A couple who partied a bit too much wake up in a strange house and find themselves in a deserted town, then board a train that goes absolutely nowhere. A little girl's giggling voice can be heard everywhere. Although the episode is treated a bit lightly at the end (often the case with Serling's black comedy narration), it's actually quite horrifying, with this couple, whatever their flaws (including drunk driving), suffering a supremely and grotesquely horrifying fate. Possibly the influence for the show Land of the Giants. Barry Nelson and Nancy Malone give excellent performances. A.

To Serve Man. Season 3, episode 24. Written by Rod Serling (from a story by Damon Knight) and directed by Richard L. Bare. This episode qualifies if for no other reason than the alien who visits earth is 9 feet tall and weighs 350 lbs. This alien claims that he wants to help mankind and even gives scientists a book entitled "To Serve Man." Unfortunately one scientist has the book translated too late to save all of the people who are traveling to the giant's planet for supposed edification. Another supremely horrifying episode whose tension is almost dissipated by Serling's jokey narration. Lloyd Bochner, Susan Cummings, and Richard Kiel give good performances. I've always thought a great movie sequel could be made showing the earth people in the ship, slowly realizing what's about to happen to them, and fighting back. Probably one of the most fondly-remembered episodes of the series. A-.

TWENTY PLUS TWO

TWENTY PLUS TWO (1961). Joseph M. Newman.

When Richard Diamond, Private Detective wound up its four season run, star David Janssen played a man who looks for missing people in Twenty Plus Two. Tom Alder (Janssen) has always been interested in the case of a girl who completely vanished 12 years ago when she was 16. At the same time, movie star Leroy Dane (Brad Dexter) discovers that the woman who answered his fan mail has been murdered. Jacques Pleshette (Jacques Aubuchon) then hires Alder to look into the disappearance of his brother, Auguste. Are these cases all connected in some way? Meandering through the story are three women: former love Linda (Jeanne Crain), who sent him a "Dear John" letter; hostess turned socialite, Nicki (Dina Merrill), whom Tom met in a post-war Tokyo; and Eleanor Delaney (Agnes Moorehead), the mother of the missing girl. Twenty Plus Two is fairly unpredictable and reasonably absorbing, but it ultimately adds up to nothing. It's one of those movies in which characters spend years covering up a "murder" that was clearly self-defense and yet never bother getting a good lawyer. Janssen is fine and the other actors are okay, but the picture is stolen by Moorehead, especially in a scene with Janssen when the two look at photos of the missing 16-year-old and realize that she's already turned into a woman. An unintentionally funny scene has teenage girls screaming over Brad Dexter [99 River Street] as if he were Troy Donahue! William Demarest [The Perils of Pauline] gives a superb performance as a bitter and drunken ex-reporter, walking off with the movie in one brief sequence.

Verdict: Like an extended Richard Diamond episode in CinemaScope. **1/2.

THE SWAN

THE SWAN (1956). Director: Charles Vidor.

"[Like a swan] be a bird but never fly. Know one song but never sing it, until the moment of her death. And so it must be for you, Alexandra. Head held high, cool indifference to the staring crowds among the banks, and the song, never."

"[Albert] spends more time with the tutor than he does with Alexandra."

Beatrix (Jessie Royce Landis) has spent her whole life preparing for the marriage of her daughter, Princess Alexandra (Grace Kelly), to her cousin, the Crown Prince Albert (Alec Guinness). When he shows up at their estate, however, Beatrix and her relatives are appalled by his behavior, and worse, he hardly pays the shy Alexandra any attention [some have theorized that Albert is gay]. Beatrix hits upon the idea of inviting her young sons' tutor, Nicholas (Louis Jourdan), to the ball, with the intention of making Albert jealous. This plan seems to backfire when Nicholas declares his true feelings for the princess ... The Swan, frankly, is a highly-imperfect film -- a bit slow, neither funny nor dramatic enough until the ending -- but the acting can not be faulted. Kelly [Rear Window] offers a lovely lead performance as the princess; Guinness scores as Albert, who is resigned to a life he seems not to aspire to; Landis and Estelle Winwood (as her mother) are fine as the elder ladies of the court; Brian Aherne [The Locket] is excellent as Landis' brother, who resigned from royal life to become a monk; and Agnes Moorehead [Dark Passage] makes her mark, as usual, as the termagant mother of Albert. Jourdan is good, but he, perhaps, underplays too much during some of his romantic sequences, and the movie, as a whole, takes much too long to create any real conflict. But then there's that wonderful, bittersweet -- in fact, downright depressing -- conclusion. It's ironic that Kelly made just one more movie before becoming a princess in real life, also with a bittersweet conclusion, as she wanted to make a comeback (with Hitchcock) but was not allowed to, and apparently found herself quite disillusioned with life in the palace.

Verdict: The acting makes the movie. ***.

JEANNE EAGELS

JEANNE EAGELS (1957). Director: George Sidney.

This lamentable biopic purports to be the life story of famous stage and screen actress Jeanne Eagels, but it comes off more like a travesty, almost a parody, of movie star biographies. Part of the problem is the casting and atrocious performance of Kim Novak, who has been seen to much better advantage in such movies as Vertigo and Middle of the Night. Apparently given no help at all in shaping her role by director George Sidney, Novak -- who does have a (very) few good moments -- portrays Eagels by lowering her voice an octave and developing an imperious manner and never seeming remotely human -- in fact at times she's more grotesque than anything else. She confuses over-acting with "Great Acting" and even has trouble with simple line readings. Although there was certainly enough drama in the real  Eagels's life, with two marriages, a drug problem, and death at 39, Jeanne Eagels needs to make up even more slanderous stuff [her family filed a law suit, but you can't libel the dead in the U.S.]. In the movie an invented alcoholic actress named Elsie Desmond (a creditable Virginia Grey) brings Eagels the script for the play "Rain," hoping the latter will interest a producer in mounting the play as a comeback for her. Instead, Eagels steals the play away from Desmond, who then commits suicide. Eagels is seen as being similarly ruthless in other sequences as well. The two men in her life, one of whom she briefly marries, are portrayed by Jeff Chandler [who basically gives a good accounting of himself] and Charles Drake, who is okay as her husband. As Eagels' stern if loving acting coach, Agnes Moorehead gives a competent performance but at times seems affected by the movie's sheer badness. Murray Hamilton does his typical sleazy, oily, repulsive shtick as a vaudeville performer who tries to rape Jeanne. The movie mixes facts with fantasy, such as when Eagels is suspended from the stage for several months by Actors Equity [true] and has her running to vaudeville when she actually went to Hollywood to make (mostly silent) movies [one of which is inexplicably shown at the end of Jeanne Eagels, only it's a musical!]. In actuality, Eagels had a triumph in the first sound version of The Letter, and was posthumously nominated for an Oscar, but this, incredibly, is never mentioned, even though it would have added up to an effective and bittersweet conclusion. Drake and Grey played a married couple in All That Heaven Allows and George Sidney also directed Bye Bye Birdie, for which he was more suited.

Verdict: Eagels certainly deserved better than this miserable schlock. *1/2.

THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS

THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS (1942). Writer/director: Orson Welles.

Orson Welles' follow-up to Citizen Kane was based on Booth Tarkington's brilliant novel, which was not only a trenchant small-town family drama but a look at the changes wrought in American society after the turn of the century and its effects on several citizens. Welles' film was cut by the studio, stripped down to bare basics, but still emerges as a creditable movie with some fine performances. Tim Holt probably never did anything better than his performance as spoiled young George Minafer, whom the whole town is hoping will eventually get his comeuppance. Eugene (Joseph Cotten) had been in love with George's mother, Isabel (Delores Costello,) but she married another man. Now she is a widow, and Eugene is a widower with a grown daughter, Lucy (Anne Baxter). A complication is that George's Aunt Fanny (Agnes Moorehead) has always been carrying a torch for Eugene. "Just being an aunt isn't really the great career it may seem to be," she tells George. A bigger complication is that George is vehemently opposed to any romantic union between his mother and Eugene. [George and Fanny have a number of scenes together which Welles almost always films in long takes.] Eugene is also planning on manufacturing motor cars, which upsets the more genteel members of the Minafer family. As the film progresses there are dramatic developments and the fortunes of the Minafers take a turn for the worse, leading to a situation wherein George has to really prove what kind of person he is. The cast, including Ray Collins [Lt. Tragg on Perry Mason] as Uncle Jack, is excellent, although I fear that Agnes Moorehead is perhaps a bit more odd and semi-hysterical than she needed to be as the desperate and lonely Fanny [she received a supporting Oscar nomination, however]. The movie is handsomely produced and looks great [the art direction and Stanley Cortez' cinematography were also nominated].

Verdict: Nearly a masterpiece. ***1/2.

THE BLUE VEIL

Laughton, Wyman and Vance with little Freddy 

THE BLUE VEIL (1951). Director: Curtis Bernhardt.

In the maternity ward widow Louise Mason (Jane Wyman) asks to see her newborn but the doctor has to tell her that the child has passed away. Seeking employment, Louise is told [somewhat tactlessly] that she might enjoy being a nanny, a situation she at first rejects. However she becomes a nanny to the little boy of a widower named Fred Begley (Charles Laughton); this is only the first of many positions she has in this episodic film. As the years go by, Louise passes up her own happiness, such as with suitor Gerald Kean (Richard Carlson), when she feels the children she looks after need her more. There is an eventual custody battle over a child virtually abandoned by its mother, and a very moving wind-up. Wyman is excellent, as usual, and she has a stellar supporting cast, including a wonderful Laughton, a solid Carlson, Vivian Vance as Laughton's secretary, Agnes Moorehead and Joan Blondell as subsequent employers, little Natalie Wood as a needy child, and Don Taylor as one of her grown-up charges. This same year Vance became as famous as Wyman and Laughton when she took on the role of Ethel Mertz on I Love Lucy; this movie proves there was more to her than Ethel [wonderful as she was]. A priceless bit in Blue Veil has a now-senior Louise being told that she's too old to look after children but she could always get a job as a maid -- such easy work!

Verdict: Tearjerker supreme. ***1/2.

FOURTEEN HOURS

Richard Basehart and Robert Keith

FOURTEEN HOURS (1951). Director: Henry Hathaway.

A troubled and emotionally disturbed man, Robert Cosick (Richard Basehart), climbs out on a ledge of a New York City hotel and refuses to leave. No one -- not his ex-fiancee (Barbara Bel Geddes), mother (Agnes Moorehead), father (Robert Keith), or a traffic cop named Dunnigan (Paul Douglas) -- can coax him to come inside as others try to figure out who he is and what's upsetting him. Fourteen Hours is well-photographed and well-acted -- Douglas is especially outstanding -- but neither its characters nor psychological undertones are developed in any compelling fashion, and as a thriller it only works sporadically. The big climax is disappointing as well. Still, it holds the attention and has some exciting moments even though it fails to sustain the tension of the situation. (Part of the trouble is that you sense Cosick's problems aren't all that severe. Some feel that he is a gay man struggling with his sexuality in a less-enlightened time period, and while that might certainly fit, the film itself doesn't really explore or confirm this.) Grace Kelly plays a woman in a divorce lawyer's office in a building across the way, while Jeffrey Hunter makes time with another woman (Debra Paget?) down in the crowd -- these unnecessary side stories are not well-integrated into the plot. (The lady Hunter is interested in seems to have concern for Cosick, but why would she actually want to be there to see it if he jumped?) Howard Da Silva plays a testy police chief.

Verdict: Okay suspense film with some good performances. **1/2.

JOHNNY BELINDA

Lew Ayres and Jane Wyman

JOHNNY BELINDA (1948). Director: Jean Negulesco.

A new doctor in a small village on an island in Nova Scotia, Robert Richardson (Lew Ayres), who hasn't quite been accepted by the locals, befriends and helps a deaf-mute woman (whom even her loved ones call the "dummy"), Belinda (Jane Wyman), and helps her to lip-read and make her thoughts and feelings known. When Belinda is raped by local tough guy Locky, (Stephen McNally), it leads to ugly rumors about Belinda and the doctor, not to mention a custody battle over the child, the titular Johnny, and even a murder trial! Oscar-winning Wyman is excellent, with solid support from Ayres; Charles Bickford as Belinda's father; Agnes Moorehead as her aunt; McNally as Johnny's father; and Jan Sterling as Locky's confused but compassionate wife. The film is beautifully photographed by Ted D. McCord, and has a fine score by Max Steiner. Not quite a masterpiece, but lovely and interesting and it won several Oscars. Mabel Paige, who played the owner of Hanson's dress shop on I Love Lucy, plays an unsympathetic role as one of the village's gossiping old biddies. 

Verdict: A nice picture with a fine cast. ***.

SUSPICION VOLUME 1

SUSPICION Volume 1.1957 TV series.

Fifteen of the filmed episodes (apparently half of the show's episodes were taped live) of the mystery/suspense series Suspicion have been collected on three discs in an initial volume. The show was produced by Alfred Hitchcock's TV unit, and the Master directed the first episode, "Four O'Clock," himself. Taken from a Cornell Woolrich story it concerns a jealous husband (E. G. Marshall) who plants a time bomb in his basement to kill his wife and her alleged lover. (Frankly, Hitch seems a little disinterested with the material until the nail-biting final minutes; still this is a good episode.) Other memorable shows include: "Heartbeat," a sad tale in which David Wayne gets a misdiagnosis from a heart specialist and doesn't realize how much he is in danger if he exerts himself (also in this episode is that very weird actress Barbara Turner); "Protege," an All About Eve variation with an excellent (as always) Agnes Moorehead  as an alcoholic actress on the comeback trail bedeviled by a viper-like, ambitious assistant (Phyllis Love); and "Death Watch" in which witness Janice Rule and protector-cop Edmond O'Brien learn that the former is to be targeted by a dirty cop whose identity is unknown. (The only trouble with this suspenseful episode is the highly illogical wind-up). 

The best episodes in this collection are "The Way Up to Heaven," a Roald Dahl concoction in which a wife (the wonderful Marion Lorne), who desperately wants to fly to Paris to see her grandchildren, is continuously stymied by the selfish manipulations of her husband (Sebastian Cabot) until he gets his amusing comeuppance; and especially "Doomsday," which features a knock-out performance by Dan Duryea as a notorious criminal planning a major bank heist -- with major complications. Other guest-stars on the show include Donna Reed, Audie Murphy, Michael Rennie, Rafael Campos, Rod Steiger (excellent in "The Bull Skinner"), John Beal. Joseph Cotten, William Shatner, and Bette Davis in the fairly awful "Fraction of a Second," in which she gives another of her pretty terrible latter-day performances.

Verdict: Good old show with more hits than misses. ***.

DARK PASSAGE

Clifton Young tries to put one over on Bogie

DARK PASSAGE (1947). Director: Delmer Daves.

Vincent Parry (Humphrey Bogart), who was convicted of murdering his wife, somehow escapes from jail and winds up in San Francisco. Helping him hide out and in other ways is Irene Jansen (Lauren Bacall), whose father was [she believes] also wrongly convicted of murdering her stepmother. During the first half or so of the film we never see Bogart's face, as just about everything is depicted from his subjective point-of-view. It is not giving much away to relate that Parry has plastic surgery, and wears bandages for more of the running time, until he is unveiled as -- Bogart. [Oddly we see Parry's original face in newspaper photos and he is depicted by a much better-looking man than Bogart. But when Parry looks in the mirror he isn't dismayed by the fact that he looks much older and is, frankly, quite homely.] The best scenes in Dark Passage have less to do with Bogie and Bacall than they do with the very tense business involving Parry with would-be blackmailer Baker (Clifton Young.). While Bogart and Bacall are both good in the movie they are overshadowed in the acting department by some members of the supporting cast, especially the aforementioned Young [who died tragically four years later] and in particular Agnes Moorehead, who gives a ferociously mesmerizing performance as Madge, a friend [of sorts] of Irene's and a would-be paramour of Parry's. Tom D'Andrea is good as the cabbie, Sam, and Houseley Stevenson certainly makes an impression as the plastic surgeon that Sam [rather conveniently] happens to know. Bruce Bennett, Douglas Kennedy [as a cop named Kennedy!], and Rory Mallinson are also notable. Dark Passage is a very entertaining and suspenseful film, but the often far-fetched plot has to be taken with a grain of salt and the characterizations could have used more pepper. Daves' direction isn't bad, but he's not on the level of a Hitchcock. Crisp photography and a nice Franz Waxman score are added bonuses.

Verdict: Suspend disbelief and you'll enjoy this formidable piece of film noir with a frankly formidable Moorehead. ***.

I LOVE THE ILLUSION: THE LIFE AND CAREER OF AGNES MOOREHEAD

I LOVE THE ILLUSION: The Life and Career of AGNES MOOREHEAD. Charles Tranberg. BearManor Media; 2007.

In this excellent biography by the author of Fred MacMurray: A Biography, the life and career of talented actress Agnes Moorehead is thoroughly examined and scrupulously researched. Moorehead had a successful radio career -- "Sorry, Wrong Number" on Suspense was one of her career highlights -- and also benefited [and vice versa] from her association with Orson Welles, with such films as Citizen Kane and The Magnificent Ambersons. Moorehead toured with Shaw's "Don Juan in Hell," appeared in many movies [including Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte] and eventually landed a gig as Endora on Bewitched that made her a household name for the boob tube generation. Tranberg looks at Moorehead's marriages, her conservative politics and religious attitudes, and her relationships with her famous co-players.

Tranberg is to be congratulated for handling a sensitive area with class.Some biographers, when faced with rumors that their subject might be gay, react in a homophobic fashion, denying with outrage as if being gay were in a class with being a terrorist or child molester. Tranberg investigated the rumors, doesn't seem to give a damn if Moorehead were a lesbian or not, but simply could not come up with enough solid evidence to definitely say she was gay or bisexual. Apparently the rumors only got started because of a silly remark made by comedian Paul Lynde. Sure, Moorehead could have been a repressed lesbian restricted by her religious and conservative attitudes, but without solid proof one can't say so and no one will  ever know for sure [about Moorehead and many others]. Besides, her sexuality isn't the question or the point, but rather her talent, which Tranberg illustrates adeptly on virtually every page. The book also includes a list of especially memorable Bewitched episodes and is generously illustrated as well.

Verdict: Outstanding biography of a noteworthy figure. ****.

MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION (1954)

MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION (1954). Director: Douglas Sirk. Produced by Ross Hunter.

This Technicolor remake of the 1935 Magnificent Obsession  casts Rock Hudson and Jane Wyman in the roles originally played by Robert Taylor and Irene Dunne, and they give equally good performances. This picture turned Hudson into a major star and he was later re-teamed with Wyman in the more interesting All That Heaven Allows the following year. This has the exact same story as the 1935 film -- wealthy irresponsible playboy Bob Merrick (Hudson) turns over a new leaf after he is, in part, responsible for a beloved doctor's death, and then the accidental blinding [not Merrick's fault] of the doctor's widow (Wyman). The trouble is that this version, while very nice to look at and with fine supporting performances from Barbara Rush, Agnes Moorehead and others, is just as contrived. Although the age difference between the two leads was addressed in All That Heaven Allows, it is ignored in this picture. In smaller roles you'll find Mae Clarke, Paul Cavanaugh, and Richard Cutting of Attack of the Crab Monsters.

Verdict: Glossy and well-intentioned, but there's nothing really there. **1/2.