SALOME, WHERE SHE DANCED

SALOME, WHERE SHE DANCED (1945). Charles Lamont.

At the end of the Civil War, where he first meets a soldier named Cleve (David Bruce),.a reporter named Jim (Rod Cameron) travels abroad to cover the Prussian-Austrian war. There Jim falls in love, as many men have, with a Viennese dancer (Yvonne De Carlo) who becomes known as "Salome" due to her specialty dance number. Accused of spying, Salome must flee Austria with Jim, and the two head for the wild west with an angry and betrayed suitor, Von Bohlen (Albert Dekker) in pursuit. In San Francisco, Jim once again encounters Cleve, who has become a bandit and bears a striking resemblance to a handsome Austrian officer that Salome loved in Europe and who was killed in battle. Salome is torn between Cleve and Jim -- while also being wooed by entrepreneur Dimitrioff (Walter Slezak) -- as Von Bohlen corners her in Frisco ... The very, very entertaining Salome, Where She Danced made a major star out of De Carlo, who is not quite convincing as an Austrian ballet dancer (!) but who gives a vivid and more-than-competent performance. The picture has what I call an old-style operetta plot, with bandits returning stolen loot to the townspeople out of admiration for Salome, and this same town (outside Frisco) being renamed "Salome, Where She Danced" in gratitude (to explain the title). In other words, the whole movie is utterly absurd but also charming and well-acted, with the exception of alleged leading man Cameron [Coronado 9], who is wooden and unappealing to say the least. As De Carlo's real love interest, David Bruce nearly steals the picture as the conflicted and almost beautiful bandit, Cleve. Walter Slezak makes an impression as the San Francisco lover of art and lovely ladies, as does Dekker [Suspense] as Von Bohlen; and Marjorie Rambeau [Bad for Each Other] is fine as an old-time actress and boarding house owner named "Madame Europe." De Carlo and Bruce both look gorgeous in Technicolor.

Verdict: Only in the movies ... ***.

THE WALLS OF JERICHO

Cornel Wilde

THE WALLS OF JERICHO (1948). Director: John M. Stahl.

"Whatever possessed him to marry such a creature?"

"You don't go living with somebody forever just because you feel sorry for them."

In 19th century Kansas, Dave Connors (Cornel Wilde) lives in the town of Jericho with his unhappy, tippling wife, Belle (Ann Dvorak). His old friend, Tucker Wedge (Kirk Douglas), who owns the town newspaper, is pressured into going into politics by his ambitious wife, Algeria (Linda Darnell), when she discovers Connors has similar ambitions and that she is attracted to him. An added complication is that childhood acquaintance, Julia (Anne Baxter), is now a grown lady lawyer who has developed a passion for Dave and vice versa. It all comes to a head when Dave and Tucker run for the same Senatorial seat, and a young lady named Marjorie (Colleen Townsend) is arrested for murder ... With this cast you might wonder why you've probably never heard of The Walls of Jericho and the answer is that the movie just isn't very good. It holds the attention, there's some decent acting and then some, but despite a couple of climaxes and anti-climaxes, it never quite comes to a full boil or distinguishes itself. Handsome Wilde [The Naked Prey] is as appealing and professional as ever; Baxter is overwrought but effective; Darnell [Day-Time Wife] makes an impression as a simmering small-town Lady MacBeth; and Kirk Douglas is most impressive of all in his fine turn as an essentially decent man overruled by his man-eating wife. Dvorak has one big scene but is otherwise criminally under-utilized in the picture. Barton MacLane, Henry Hull and Marjorie Rambeau have smaller roles and all acquit themselves nicely. Colleen Townsend [When Willie Comes Marching Home] had only a few credits but is fine.

Verdict: Small scale small-town melodrama with a highly interesting and often adept cast. **1/2.

MIN AND BILL

MIN AND BILL (1930). Director: George W. Hill.

Min (Marie Dressler) runs a dockside boarding house and Bill (Wallace Dressler) is one of her tenants, with whom she has an "understanding." However, misunderstandings crop up when an old friend from Min's past, Bella Pringle, shows up. Bella (Marjorie Rambeau) is the prostitute who left her daughter Nancy (Dorothy Jordan) in Min's care years ago. Min told her the girl died just to keep Nancy away from her mother's negative influence, and will do just about anything to keep the slatternly woman from ruining Nancy's life. Trying too hard to be "cruel to be kind," Dressler's character is rather unpleasant in this. She's so anxious for the girl to go off and be happy that she makes her feel she doesn't love her (a ploy that probably occurs only in Hollywood movies); in fact she treats her quite horribly. And she doesn't really give the real mother much of a chance. Whatever the faults of the story --and there are many -- this study of misguided maternal devotion works because of the acting. Rambeau, Beery, and Jordan are top of the line, and Dressler won the Best Actress Oscar.

Verdict: Worth watching for that cast. ***.

MAN OF A THOUSAND FACES

MAN OF A THOUSAND FACES (1957). Director: Joseph Pevney.

The life of the great silent actor Lon Chaney, with a focus on his first failed marriage and his love for, and competition with, his son Creighton [later known as Lon Chaney Jr, a talented actor in his own right.] This is one of the best backstage biopics to come out of Hollywood, with a superb performance by James Cagney in the title role. In recreations of scenes from Chaney's hits, Cagney even gets across the style of acting employed by Chaney in the silent days. Jane Greer offers one of her loveliest performances as Chaney's second wife, Dorothy Malone is vivid and pathetic as wife number one, and even Robert Evans is fine as Irving Thalberg. In addition, Marjorie Rambeau has a nice scene as an extra called the “Duchess” who shows new-in-Hollywood Chaney the ropes. If there is a problem with the film it's that there seems to be too much of an effort made to turn wife number one into a villainess. At first Malone seems to be overacting as her character overreacts to the fact that Chaney's parents are deaf mutes, but it becomes evident later on that the picture wants to paint her as being a mite disturbed. The movie works up some sympathy for Malone in the final quarter. According to the film, wife number one was bored being left home alone with a baby, desired a career for herself as a singer, and when she went out and got one was basically told to stay home where she belongs by her disapproving, chauvinistic husband. Her reunion with her son brings about an estrangement between Lon and Creighton that is movingly resolved before the former's death. Whatever its flaws and dramatic licenses, this is an excellent film that features a dead-on Cagney performance. The CinemaScope photography is not really necessary for a more intimate type of story as this, but Frank Skinner's score for the film is one of his finest.

Verdict: Great biopic. ***1/2.

SLANDER

SLANDER. (1956) Director: Roy Rowland. NOTE: This review reveals some important plot details.

Inspired by the Confidential scandals of the fifties, this picture presents Van Johnson -- who comes through quite nicely in a solid dramatic part -- as a children's entertainer who is told some unsavory facts about his past will be published unless he comes up with some dirt on a major movie star that he used to know in the old neighborhood. This comes -- heartbreakingly -- just after Johnson has been given a major break as host of a popular kiddie show. Johnson had been sent away for armed robbery years ago (to make this more palatable we are told that his mother was seriously ill and they needed money for medicine) and although he's served his time, the sponsor is afraid the public will react negatively to the news -- which they do. Johnson refuses to play ball with the scandal sheet and the details of his incarceration are published. His wife (Ann Blyth, also solid) wants him to tattle on the film actress for the sake of his job, their lives, and -- especially -- their little boy, but Johnson is just too decent to do the deed. This leads, indirectly, to the death of their son as he runs into the street to get away from some playmates who are taunting him about his father. The film is uncompromising in that there is absolutely no happy ending: Johnson and Blyth are left to deal with the despair they feel over their boy's death and Johnson is out of a job -- and a career. Depressing stuff indeed, although one imagines the audience was supposed to feel some satisfaction when the scandal sheet publisher (Steve Cochran) is shot to death by his own outraged mother (Marjorie Rambeau)! Slander is a very interesting picture with some trenchant observations and dialogue, but it has a somewhat slick and surfacy feel to it, despite some strong scenes. Although Rambeau is excellent as Cochran's mother (and his insufficient conscience) she is given some scenes that play in the dramatic sense but aren't very logical otherwise. First, we're asked to believe that she would pay a call on Blyth the very day that her little boy has been killed (to find out if she blames Cochran for what happened); then we're supposed to believe that she would actually murder her own son in cold blood. Slap him, shout at him, scream in disgust, maybe -- but murder? This is a sop to the audience, which was probably hoping the callous guy would get it in the end. Speaking of Cochran, he may not have been a great actor, but here he plays against type, all suave and debonair over the oily infrastructure, and is not only credible but very effective. He actually gets the lion's share of the running time and runs with it.

Verdict: **1/2.