TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT

Highly punchable: David Niven

TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT (aka Happy Ever After/1954). Director: Mario Zampi.

"We could be very happy in an unhappy sort of way." -- Jasper.

Aged General O'Leary of Rathbonie Ireland is determined to make a dangerous jump on his horse as he does every year, but this time he has an accident and eventually dies. His estate goes to relative Jasper O'Leary (David Niven of Death on the Nile), who sets the entire town against himself by refusing  to honor his uncle's death bed bequests and the old man's forgiving of certain debts. Meanwhile the recently widowed Serena (Yvonne De Carlo), who had hoped to snare handsome former fiance Dr. Michael Flynn (Robert Urquhart of The Curse of Frankenstein) against her sister Kathy's (Noelle Middleton) wishes, deides that it might be better to set her cap for the obviously interested new Squire, Jasper. But now all of Jasper's many enemies decide the only thing to do is to assassinate Jasper ...

Barry Fitzgerald and David Niven

Black comedies can work --witness the wonderful The Wrong Box -- but Tonight's the Night is an appalling concoction and only has three solid laughs throughout its ninety minutes running time. For one thing the two lead characters, the  heartless priss Jasper and the gold-digging Serena, are too loathsome to be amusing. Character flaws can make people funny, but these two, Jasper in particular, are utterly worthless individuals. One feels sympathy for the wronged townspeople -- Jasper wants to evict one elderly man out of the home he's lived in for decades -- until they start indulging in IRA tactics including bombs and the like. One plan to kill Jasper has to do with tying a rope across the road in the hopes that Jasper will be beheaded when he drives by in his motorcar! Such lovely people!

Robert Urquhart and Yvonne De Carlo

Much of the second half of the film is taken up with the town folks' bumbling attempts at murder, which makes them resemble especially malevolent variations on the Bowery Boys but with even less laughs. Niven, although playing someone whose face you want to punch almost from the first, gives a good performance (nobody could be more obnoxious than Niven when playing a detestable prig); De Carlo is snappy and has an okay Irish brogue; the supporting cast does its best; and Barry Fitzgerald nearly steals the picture -- not that he would necessarily want it -- in his portrayal of Thady, the tippling butler. Niven and De Carlo don't have that much chemistry, and the characters of Kathy and the doctor are never sufficiently developed. A highlight of the film is when a talented Irish tenor sings the lovely ballad "My Heart is Irish." Mario Zampi also directed The Naked Truth, another dark comedy that was much, much better than this..

Verdict: Essentially unfunny and atrocious but for Fitzgerald and the tenor. *1/2. 

TARZAN'S SECRET TREASURE

Weissmuller and O'Sullivan

TARZAN'S SECRET TREASURE (1941). Director: Richard Thorpe.

Tarzan (Johnny Weissmuller), Jane (Maureen O'Sullivan), and Boy (Johnny Sheffield) are leading an idyllic life above their escarpment in Africa, when along comes Professor Elliott (Reginald Owen of The Letter) and party. Elliott is a scientist looking for the Van-Usi tribe, and he is accompanied by photographer O'Doul (Barry Fitzgerald of And Then There Were None), and the guides Medford (Tom Conway) and Vandemeer (Philip Dorn of Underground). Unfortunately, the latter two prove up to no good as Boy shows them a piece of gold and tells the others that Tarzan knows where there is a rich vein of it. After some melodramatic moments, everyone comes afoul of some natives intent on murder. Tarzan's Secret Treasure is a kind of schizoid movie, beginning with the silly if charming antics of Cheeta and her "friend," Buli, the elephant, as well as the childish if cute scamperings of Boy, but it veers off into something much darker in the second half. The scene when a native is torn in half in Tarzan Escapes is repeated -- one way of getting around the censors as well as of saving money -- and when a second native is similarly killed in new footage, we aren't shown the trunks heading in separate directions, possibly another sop to the censors. There are several shots of natives being chewed on by crocodiles, and the sequence wherein Tarzan battles a giant croc underwater is repeated for a second time. There isn't much that is original in the picture, aside from a little native boy named Tumbo (Cordell Hickman) who has lost his mother and becomes friends with Boy in the film's most charming sequence. Jane was to have been killed off at the end of Tarzan Finds a Son! because she was tiring of the series -- we do see her being speared in the back at the end of that film -- but the public outcry necessitated her return. Although O'Sullivan was never a great beauty per se, she has never looked more attractive than she does in this movie. She gives a very good performance, as do the others in the cast, including little Hickman.

Verdict: Still some life left in the series. **1/2.

AND THEN THERE WERE NONE (1945)

Walter Huston and Barry Fitzgerald

AND THEN THERE WERE NONE (1945). Director: Rene Clair.

Several people receive invitations to the very isolated Indian island, and find themselves accused of murder and of escaping justice. One by one, in accordance with a nursery rhyme on "Ten Little Indians," the members of the party are killed as the diminishing survivors become increasingly paranoid. This somewhat light-hearted version of Agatha Christie's classic novel has perhaps too much humor, and changes the grim and uncompromising ending of the book, but it manages to work up considerable suspense along with atmosphere and a certain tension. The actors are generally good, with Barry Fitzgerald as a judge, Walter Huston as a doctor, Louis Hayward as an adventurer, June Duprez [The Brighton Strangler] as a secretary, and Judith Anderson [Rebecca] as a prim and proper if rather heartless middle-aged woman. Richard Haydn [Dear Wife], C. Aubrey Smith, and Roland Young also have important roles. Most of the actors have been directed to play it rather "cute," but for the large part Clair's direction is quite adroit. Christie created her own little sub-genre with this very influential book, which was filmed several times both as "And Then There Were None" and "Ten Little Indians." Most of these were pretty bad. There was a creditable British mini-series in 2015.

Verdict: The fascinating and macabre situation carries this along. ***.

THE QUIET MAN

John Wayne in Technicolor

THE QUIET MAN (1952). Director: John Ford.

Sean Thornton (John Wayne), an ex-boxer who killed a man in the ring, returns to Inisfree, Ireland where he was born, for a fresh start. He falls in love with Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O'Hara) and the two get married after outwitting her brother, Will (Victor McLaglen), who refuses to give his sister her dowry. Until her husband gets it for her, he has to spend each night by himself in a sleeping bag. It all leads up to a supposedly big, highly over-rated fight scene that isn't half as entertaining, long or well-done as the fisticuffs in the average Republic serial. (Someone mentions that Will has 20 lb on Sean, but no one seems to notice that he also has twenty years on the younger man; Wayne was 45 and McLaglen 66 at the time of filming.) Well, the photography is beautiful and there are some fine performances from the supporting cast, but while the film certainly has its admirers, for the rest of us it hasn't worn well with time. Wayne and O'Hara make acceptable leads, but neither is well-cast (despite O'Hara's fiery red hair) nor especially memorable. Wayne was already becoming the familiar bull-necked ossified performer of his later years. Barry Fitzgerald, Arthur Shields (Fitzgerald's younger brother) and Mildred Natwick are more on the mark. But the main problem with the movie is that the characters are just types; they never really emerge as fully-dimensional people. There are some amusing moments to be fair, and the picture begins well and has some well-directed scenes (Wayne first spotting O'Hara, for instance), but it's also too "cutesy" by far, and thick with Hollywood-Irish cliches. A scene that is hilarious for the wrong reasons has the capon priest (Ward Bond), of all people, becoming furious when he learns Kate makes her husband sleep in a sleeping bag. One of Republic Pictures' rare "A" movies.

Verdict: You want to like it but ... **1/2.

NONE BUT THE LONELY HEART

NONE BUT THE LONELY HEART (1944). Director: Clifford Odets.

"Love's not for the poor, son. No time for it."

This is one of only two films directed by playwright/screenwriter Clifford Odets, and frankly you expect more from a man with his talent. The first problem is that Odets was adapting someone else's novel, and the second is that Odets the director wasn't a little tougher on Odets the screenwriter. To be blunt, despite a good idea and some nice moments, None But the Lonely Heart is a talky bore.

Ernie Mott (Cary Grant) wants to live free and independent, but when he learns that his Ma (Ethel Barrymore) is dying of cancer, he decides to stick around and help her run her shop. Although there's a nice, uncomplicated girl, Aggie (Jane Wyatt), who loves him unconditionally ("I wouldn't trade it for a box at the opera, the thing I feel for you," she tells him), Ernie gets involved with the much more complicated Ada (June Duprez). Ada is still very much connected to her brutal mobster ex-husband Jim (George Coulouris).

The problem with the plot is that the whole business of a basically nice guy getting involved

with a slick operator (in this case, Jim) to make money was pretty much old hat by 1944. In an earlier decade Mott would have been played by James Cagney and in a later decade Jim would have been enacted by Steve Cochran. In all the directions that the film could have gone, it chooses the most trite one.

The film is never convincing and is sentimental in the wrong way. Grant gives a very good performance, but he isn't exactly believable as a cockney or as someone from the lower classes; he's too old and too sophisticated by far. Barrymore is wonderful as Ma Mott, but even she is a touch too lady-like. Wyatt gives another lovely -- if brief -- performance as Aggie, and June Duprez does okay as Ada. Coulouris is on the money as Jim. An uncredited Queenie Vassar offers a vivid portrait of the larcenous Mrs. Snowden, and Konstantin Shayne and Barry Fitzgerald enact important supporting roles with aplomb.

Verdict: Disjointed disappointment, but with a great theme borrowed from Tchaikovsky. **.