DON'T BOTHER TO KNOCK

Marilyn Monroe

DON'T BOTHER TO KNOCK (1952). Director: Roy Ward Baker. Based on the novel "Mischief" by Charlotte Armstrong.

Eddie Forbes (Elisha Cook Jr.) is an elevator operator at Manhattan's McKinley Hotel who wishes he had never let his niece, Nell (Marilyn Monroe), babysit for the young daughter of guests Peter and Ruth Jones (Jim Backus and Lurene Tuttle of The Manitou). For Nell has been disturbed ever since the man she loved died at sea in a plane crash. It doesn't help that she encounters a pilot named Jed Towers (Richard Widmark), whose girlfriend, Lyn (Anne Bancroft of Gorilla At Large) told him to take a hike because she not only feels they have no future but finds him essentially cold. Confusing Jed with the dead man, Nell becomes increasingly unraveled and things look more and more dangerous for her and the little girl (Donna Corcoran) and possibly Jed as well ... Marilyn Monroe is given a pretty tough assignment to play an emotionally disturbed, indeed mentally ill woman in this, and her performance ranges from some quietly effective moments to the occasionally embarrassing one; but all in all she's good and may even manage to wrangle a tear or two from some viewers. Bancroft and Widmark are excellent, and there is also notable work from young Corcoran, as well as Verna Felton (the stern maid on I Love Lucy) and Don Beddoe, as a nosy hotel guest and her husband. Gloria Blondell is a nightclub photographer, Jeanne Cagney plays a telephone operator, and Michael Ross [Attack of the 50 Foot Woman] is the house dick.  The ending to this is rather moving, and none of the major characters are untouched by the experience. This was released by Twentieth Century Fox with big-name leads, but it's essentially a "B" movie with a short running time. 

Verdict: Sad story of a grieving, neurotic woman disguised as a competent little thriller. ***. 

A LION IS IN THE STREETS

Barbara Hale and James Cagney

A LION IS IN THE STREETS (1953). Director: Raoul Walsh.

In the Louisiana backwoods, Hank Martin (James Cagney) drives his truck around selling all manner of goods to his neighbors. He meets and marries schoolteacher Verity (Barbara Hale) and takes her to his shack -- but he doesn't intend to stay there for long. Hank is convinced that Robert Castleberry (Larry Keating) is short-weighting the cotton brought to his plant and cheating the farmers, a charge strongly denied by Castleberry, creating an incident that leads to more than one death. Then Hank gets it into his head to run for governor, and makes a deal with the devil. Meanwhile his pregnant wife is unaware that Hank has turned the young woman with a crush on him, Flamingo (Anne Francis), into his mistress. This will not end well. In fact, the ending to the movie is the best thing about the picture (literally and figuratively) and perhaps Cagney's only really good acting in the film. It almost seems as if Cagney thinks that if he hollers, blusters and rages enough it will make the audience forget how utterly unconvincing the film is as a whole. A rage that might be appropriate for a gangster doesn't work at all for Hank Martin, and it's one of Cagney's rare forgettable performances. On the other hand, Barbara Hale [Perry Mason] is lovely and convincing as Verity, and Anne Francis also shines as Flamingo, and there are notable turns from Keating [When Worlds Collide]; John McIntire [Shadow on the Wall] as Jeb; and Warner Anderson as Jules. Also in the cast are Cagney's sister, Jeanne, as Jeb's wife; Lon Chaney Jr.; Ellen Corby; Onslow Stevens as a lawyer; and Sara Haden, although I didn't spot her and she seems to have no lines. The wildest scene in the movie has Flamingo trying to feed Verity to a pack of alligators out of jealousy! Franz Waxman's discordant score seems to fit, but can't help, this oddball and unmemorable movie. Apparently Walsh cut out the last third of Luthor Davis' screenplay and came up with a new finale. You also sense that several scenes, especially those pertaining to the relationship between Hank and Flamingo, were left on the cutting room floor. Similar material was already covered in the 1949 All the King's Men.

Verdict: Cagney, shamelessly chewing the scenery, is almost a parody of himself in this. **.

QUICKSAND

QUICKSAND (1950). Director: Irving Pichel.

Probably trying to change his image and show his range the way song and dance man Dick Powell did years before, Mickey Rooney starred in this film noirish thriller about a mechanic who winds up on the run from police after meeting a tough blond with expensive tastes. Rooney is loved by a good brunette (Barbara Bates), but is more fascinated by the zesty blond (Jeanne Cagney) who lusts after a two thousand dollar fur coat. Rooney's troubles begin when he “borrows” twenty dollars from the till to take Cagney out on a date. Before long he's pawning watches he doesn't quite own, mugging drunks carrying wads of cash, stealing cars from his boss, breaking into arcades for the night's take, and strangling his employer. But the movie refuses to truly let Rooney be a bad guy even though it's clear that he is. His criminal actions aren't prompted by a desire to feed a starving family but by expediency; throughout the picture he consistently makes the wrong and most evil choices. SPOILER ALERT: Running off with the good brunette after presumably murdering his boss, he conveniently hijacks the car of a sympathetic lawyer and eventually learns that his employer is still alive. (“Men don't die easily,” the lawyer tells Rooney. “They take a lot of killing.”) At the unconvincing conclusion, Rooney assures everyone that he's ready to take what's coming to him, that he's essentially a “decent” person (who mugs, robs and “murders!”). In a part that could have been tailor-made for a young Cagney, Widmark or Garfield, Rooney acquits himself nicely, only resorting to stock good guy mannerisms – as if to redeem his unlikable character -- in the film's final quarter when the story goes completely awry and his formerly vital, emotionally-true thesping becomes perfunctory. The film's standout performance is from vivid Jeanne Cagney, who positively sizzles as the blond who's only out for herself. Equally good in a supporting part is Peter Lorre, who plays the arcade owner who's carrying a torch for former employee Cagney; he and Rooney have several good scenes together. Barbara Bates' mediocre acting proves beyond a doubt why little was heard of her after she appeared in this and at the ending of All About Eve the same year. The picture is well-directed and has an effective if unmemorable score by Louis Gruenberg, who decades before was composing operas for the Met.

Verdict: Not great but has its moments. **1/2.