TWILIGHT OF HONOR

Claude Rains and Richard Chamberlain

TWILIGHT OF HONOR (1963). Director: Boris Sagal.  

David Mitchell (Richard Chamberlain) is stunned when Judge Tucker (Edgar Stehli) insists he defend an Army vet, Ben Brown (Nick Adams), accused of murdering the beloved citizen and cop, Cole Clinton (Pat Buttram). David hasn't been in a courtroom in years, and then he was a prosecutor! Forced to take on the case, he consults with his aged mentor, Art Harper (Claude Rains), who agrees to help him. A widower, David draws closer to Harper's smitten daughter, Susan (Joan Blackman), as he prepares his case. He is convinced that even if Brown killed Clinton, it might be a justifiable homicide under New Mexico law if Clinton was sleeping with Brown's wife, Laura (Joey Heatherton). But the question of adultery -- and prostitution -- might test the limits of the angry town's patience, not to mention Clinton's widow, Amy (Jeanette Nolan). But David might be surprised by what Amy tells him outside of court ... but will she repeat it under oath?

Heatherton, Buttram, Adams

Twilight of Honor is a very good and absorbing courtroom drama that benefits from a swift pace, sharp direction, interesting twists, a certain sixties-style frankness, and some excellent performances. Taking time off from his hit medical series, Dr. Kildare, Chamberlain certainly delivers as the impassioned and intelligent, no-nonsense defense attorney. Nick Adams fought hard and spent much money to get a supporting Oscar, and while he was nominated -- and is quite good as well -- his screen time may have simply been too limited, and he lost to Melvyn Douglas. Rains is as good as ever, but perhaps the most impressive performance is from James Gregory (of A Distant Trumpet) as the special prosecutor -- he has a superb turn as a rather slimy character who's out to win at all costs, and makes no bones about it. Joey Heatherton -- introduced in this, her first movie -- proves that she had more than sexiness going for her, and Jeanette Nolan also scores as the widow who knew her husband's peccadilloes all too well. 

Chamberlain with Jeanette Nolan

There are also smaller roles played well by Paul Langton, Pat Buttram (as the victim), Don Barry, Arch Johnson, Edgar Stehli (as the judge), Bert Freed as the sheriff, and George Mitchell as the D.A. Linda Evans, later famous for Big Valley and Dynasty, plays the victim's angry daughter -- her first film as well. The only player who really doesn't impress is Joan Blackman; most of her credits were on television although she also did a couple of films with Elvis and was Jerry Lewis' leading lady in Visit to a Small Planet. Boris Sagal did most of his work for television, but also helmed such features as The Omega Man. 

Verdict: Solid courtroom drama with generally excellent performances. ***1/4. 

TILL THE CLOUDS ROLL BY

Ol' Blue-eyes sings "Ol' Man River" 

TILL THE CLOUDS ROLL BY (1946). Director: Richard Whorf.

Till the Clouds Roll By purports to be a biopic of composer Jerome Kern (Robert Walker). It opens with a twenty minute recreation of the opening night of Kern's masterpiece, Show Boat, and then goes downhill -- at least in the dramatic sense -- from there. It would have been better for all concerned to forget the fictionalized "plot" and simply present one number after another. Some of the basic facts of Kern's life are accurate: oversleeping kept him off of the ill-fated Lusitania upon which he was to sail with impresario Charles Frohman; and he did meet his wife, Eva (Dorothy Patrick of House by the River), in England, although under somewhat different circumstances. But the movie invents a completely fictional character, James Hessler (Van Heflin), a widower-arranger, who works with Kern and helps him to become a major success. Equally fictional is Hessler's daughter, Sally, who is played by Joan Wells as a child and Lucille Bremer as an adult (both are very good), and a lot of dumb drama is worked up over show biz aspirant Sally losing her big number to star Marilyn Miller (Judy Garland) and running off to unknown parts because of it. None of it has anything to do with Kern. But while this aspect of the film is dull, there are still some memorable moments in the movie, such as: Lena Horne singing "Can't Help Lovin' That Man" from Show Boat and "Why Was I Born?"; Angela Lansbury and chorus cuties on swings for "How'd You Like to Spoon with Me?"; the dancing for the title tune, which features June Allyson and Ray McDonald; Garland as Maxwell interpreting "Look for the Silver Lining;" "I Won't Dance" with Van Johnson and the aforementioned Bremer [Ruthless]; and Tony Martin doing "Make Believe" and "All the Things You Are." You wouldn't think that Frank Sinatra, however wonderful he was, could do much with "Ol' Man River" but he delivers in his own inimitable style. Other performers include Kathryn Grayson as Magnolia in Show Boat; Virginia O'Brien doing her frozen face shtick; and Dinah Shore doing a couple of numbers nicely without quite being on everyone else's level. The absolute low-light of the film is June Allyson croaking out a song about "Cleopatterer." Walker is okay as Kern, but looks nothing like him, while Heflin does more than his best with his character, and Paul Langton [Murder is My Beat] is fine as lyricist Oscar Hammerstein. Ironically, five years later the same studio, MGM, did a full-length version of Show Boat but instead of Lena Horne hired the completely Caucasian Ava Gardner to play the mulatto character of Julie; Kathryn Grayson, of course, remained as Magnolia. All of the musical numbers in this were expertly staged by Robert Alton except for Garland's numbers, which were handled for her by Vincente Minelli.

Verdict: There's still much to admire in this half-baked supposed biography. **1/2.

MURDER IS MY BEAT

Barbara Payton and Paul Langton

MURDER IS MY BEAT (1955). Director: Edgar G. Ulmer.

"I hate the blunt destruction of human life. I'd seen enough killing in the South Pacific. "

Detective Ray Patrick (Paul Langton) investigates when a man is found dead with his head burning in the fireplace. The most obvious suspect is a blonde named Eden Lane (Barbara Payton), who has run off to parts unknown. Patrick finds her in an isolated cabin, brings her back to justice, but on the train she swears that she just saw the alleged murder victim on the platform. Falling in love with Eden, Patrick risks his job and freedom by getting off with the woman and pursuing this lead just in case she is actually innocent. But is she? Murder is My Beat is a minor but engaging crime thriller with a good performance from Langton [The Big Knife]. Payton [Bad Blonde] is not bad, but she seems so subdued at times that she almost appears to be drugged. Tracey Roberts is vivid as a friend of Eden's; Roy Gordon has a bigger role than usual as a businessman who was acquainted with Eden; and Robert Shayne [Cage of Evil] is okay as the police captain who looks for Patrick, as is Selena Royle as Gordon's wife. The perfect evocation of a cheap paperback thriller that keeps you turning pages nonetheless.

Verdict: Langton is a large part of why this works. ***.

THE BIG KNIFE

Everett Sloane talks to Jack Palance

THE BIG KNIFE (1955). Producer/director: Robert Aldrich. Screenplay by James Poe from the play by Clifford Odets.

Movie star Charles Castle (Jack Palance) was involved in a hit and run that killed a child, but his p.r. man, Buddy (Paul Langton), took the rap for him. Charles' wife, Marion (Ida Lupino), who is separated from him, swears she'll divorce him if he re-signs with Stanley Hoff (Rod Steiger), who probably helped engineer the deception. Now there's a new complication: Castle had a woman with him in the car that night, Dixie Evans (Shelly Winters), and she's drunkenly shooting her mouth off everywhere she goes. Now Hoff and his associate Smiley (Wendell Corey), want to take care of Dixie -- permanently ... The Big Knife might have worked on the stage, and the Odets original was undoubtedly better than this half-baked adaptation, but the film sinks almost from the get-go. The chief problem is the epic miscasting of Jack Palance. Charlie might have evoked some sympathy in the viewer if he was played by a man who could get across his essential weakness and confusion, but Palance seems incapable of ever displaying the slightest trace of vulnerability. It gives the actor his presence and strength, but he's just all wrong for this picture. His scenes with Ida Lupino are stagey and over-rehearsed and just don't work at all -- both of them are busy "acting" instead of being. We're constantly being told of how wonderful Castle is and of his supposed integrity, but all we see is a corrupt, self-absorbed individual who allowed another man to take responsibility for his actions, slept with the man's wife, and acts like a dickhead throughout. When he protests at the idea of "silencing" Dixie, it's hard to believe that he would object -- he's the last one to take a high moral stance. It's up to the supporting cast to give the film whatever limited stature it has. Rod Steiger has some ferociously effective scenes as Stanley [some might think he's merely showing off]; Wendell Corey underplays beautifully as the slimy Smily; Everett Sloane is as solid as ever as Charles' agent; and Paul Langton has a beautifully and powerfully delivered speech to Castle at the end of the film that is one of the most memorable bits in the movie. As for the women, Ilka Chase offers a dead-on portrait of an oily, if stereotypical, gossip columnist, Shelley Winters is so-so as Dixie, and Jean Hagen fails to impress as Buddy's sluttish wife, Connie. Wesley Addy has a nice turn as the writer Hank Teagle. Oddly, a confrontation between Dixie and Hoff that might have been quite cinematic and dynamic is mentioned but not shown, but the film isn't "opened" up very much. It's hard to like or enjoy a movie in which virtually every character is either unpleasant or annoying. Robert Aldrich was the wrong director for this, as well. For a worthwhile Odets adaptation, see Clash By Night.

Verdict: A fairly embarrassing mess of Hollywood pseudo-profundity with horribly miscast leads. **.