THE KILLERS

Virginia Christine, Burt Lancaster, Ava Gardner

THE KILLERS (1946). Director: Robert Siodmak.

Torpedoes Max (William Conrad) and Al (Charles McGraw) come to the town of Brentwood and (improbably) announce to people in the diner that they are going to kill a guy known as the Swede or Pete Lund (Burt Lancaster), which they do. The rest of the film presents assorted flashbacks from various points-of-view as insurance investigator Jim Reardon (Edmund O'Brien) tries to find out more about "Lund" and the reasons for his murder. Reardon hooks up with former cop Sam Lubinsky (Sam Levene) and discovers that the latter's old friend the Swede, actually Ole Anderson, a former boxer, was mixed up in a robbery plot as well as with a beautiful if duplicitous female named Kitty (Ava Gardner). But before Reardon's investigation is over, those two torpedoes just may have more work to do. 

Waiting for death: Burt Lancaster

The Killers is a fine and memorable piece of film noir. In his very first film, Lancaster gives a strong performance and he is backed up by an old pro in O'Brien. Conrad and McGraw certainly make in impression in their brief but chilling appearances. Levene and Virginia Christine (Anderson's old girlfriend and now Lubinsky's wife) are solid as well. And then there's Ava Gardner in her 27th film, but clearly still growing as an actress. She makes a good impression in the early scenes but doesn't quite cut it in her climactic moments. There are good turns from Phil Brown [Weird Woman] as Nick Adams, Vince Barnett as old Charleston, Albert Dekker as the architect of the robbery plot, Donald MacBride as Reardon's boss, Jack Lambert [The Unsuspected] as a member of the gang, Queenie Smith as Queenie, Anderson's sole beneficiary, and especially Jeff Corey as Blinky. (Charles Middleton plays a farmer but I didn't spot him.) Although Anderson is in some ways an unsympathetic character, you can't help but feel sorry for the miserable way in which he is played for a sucker. The Killers boasts an evocative score by Miklos Rozsa and fine photography by Elwood (Woody) Bredell. 

Verdict: Totally absorbing, very well-acted crime drama. ***1/4. 

CAN'T HELP SINGING

Deanna Durbin and some spectacular scenery

CAN'T HELP SINGING (1944). Director: Frank Ryan.

When Caroline (Deanna Durbin),  a senator's daughter, learns that he disapproves of the man she loves and hopes to marry -- the opportunistic Lt. Robert Latham (David Bruce) -- she runs off into the wild west after him. Along the way she runs into some colorful characters, as well as a new romantic interest in the form of Lawlor (Robert Paige). Can't Help Singing has some pleasant tunes by composer Jerome Kern (especially the title tune), and Durbin and Paige [Fired Wife] make a very good team. Durbin, whose voice seemed to get even better as she got older, also became a bit double-chinned and puffy, but was still attractive. The handsome production boasts beautiful photography [Elwood Bredell and W. Howard Greene], and some good performances from the leads, along with Ray Collins [Hideout] as Durbin's father; Akim  Tamiroff (out west!) and Olin Howlin/Howland as two likable scoundrels; Bruce as the lieutenant; and Jay Novello [Atlantis, the Lost Continent] as a "sucker."

Verdict: One of the better Deanna Durbin musicals. ***.