CRACK-UP

Herbert Marshall, Pat O'Brian and Claire Trevor

CRACK-UP (1946). Director: Irving Reis. 

Art lecturer George Steele (Pat O'Brian) breaks into a museum, acting all crazy, and insists that he was just in a tremendous train wreck and barely survived. Cops, museum staff, and sort-of girlfriend Terry (Claire Trevor) are worried by his behavior, even more so when they learn that there has been no news of any train wreck. George tries to retrace his steps, and even takes a train from Grand Central, the same train he thinks he took earlier, to try and figure out what happened to him. There is talk of a missing or forged art masterpiece. When his friend and colleague Stevenson (Damian O'Flynn) is found murdered, George goes on the run. 

Ray Collins ministers to O'Brian

Based on a short story by Fredric Brown, Crack-Up is a fair suspense story that in the long run doesn't really deliver. This is too bad, because the picture begins very well, is well-acted, and has a couple of terrific scenes, especially a creepy one when George goes back on the train, sees another train slowly approaching from the other direction, and is terrified -- as is the audience --  that there is going to be a crash. But the rest is just a ho hum mish mosh that just doesn't distinguish itself from the competition, despite good photography by Robert De Grasse and a score by Leigh Harline that adds heft to certain sequences. The climax is criminally flat as well. 

O'Brian and Trevor

In addition to the actors already named, we've got Herbert Marshall wasted as an alleged romantic rival for Terry's affections, Ray Collins as a concerned colleague, Wallace Ford as a not-so-concerned police officer, Dean Harens as a handsome art aficionado, Mary Ware as the timid secretary, Mary, and Robert Bray as a silent and sinister figure on the train and elsewhere. While there are good performances and sequences in the movie, one can also understand why this is one bit of film noir that is almost completely forgotten. 

Verdict: Initially intriguing but ultimately minor crime drama. **1/4. 

CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY

CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY (1944). Director: Robert Siodmak.

Now here's a weird one. Someone got the idea of taking a serious novel by Somerset Maugham (The Razor's Edge and many others) and casting Gene Kelly and, of all people, Deanna Durbin in the leads -- talk about epic miscasting. True, neither of these actors exactly disgrace themselves, it's just that you can imagine what a wholly different picture this would have been with different leads. But in any case, it wouldn't have been much good. Lt Mason (an effective Dean Harens) has just been jilted by his fiancee when he meets up with a singer named "Jackie" (Durbin), whose real name is Abigail but who changed it after her husband, Robert (Kelly) was convicted of murder. Most of Christmas Holiday consists of flashbacks as Jackie pours out her story [seemingly at the drop of a hat] to the kind lieutenant. Robert remains a shadowy character, however, and we never really learn the details of his crime nor anything about his victim. We do get to know his strange mother (Gale Sondergaard), who does the best she can with another underwritten role. Richard Whorf, who later became a director, plays a reporter named Simon, and Gladys George is cast as Valerie, who runs the club that Jackie sings at. Kelly does no singing or dancing, but Durbin gets to warble "Spring Will Be a Little Late This Year" and "Always," the film's signature tune. There's an interesting segue from a Beethoven concert to a dance club, but Christmas Holiday has the gall to use Wagner's liebestod from "Tristan and Isolde" to try to add dramatic heft to this kitsch. It doesn't work, although, ironically, the best scene in the movie has Kelly and Durbin listening to the music and being, quite understandably, moved by it. Durbin did seven more films before retiring four years later. Harens did two more films and then had a long list of credits in television.

Verdict: With these leads the fare should be much lighter. **.