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. 

STATE FAIR (1945)

Dana Andrews and Jeanne Crain

STATE FAIR (1945). Director: Walter Lang.

The Frake family head for the Iowa state fair with a variety of goals: Father Abel (Charles Winninger) wants his boar, Blueboy, to win a prize; mother Melissa (Fay Bainter) also wants to win a ribbon for her mincemeat; restless daughter Margy (Jeanne Crain) has spring fever and is hoping to meet someone more exciting than her fiance, Harry (Phil Brown of Obsession); and son Wayne (Dick Haymes) just seems to want to have fun. Margy meets a newspaperman named Pat (Dana Andrews), who tells her he'll just disappear if if doesn't work out with her, and Wayne encounters singer Emily (Vivian Blaine), who has a little secret. Frankly, the romantic aspects of the movie are a little lopsided -- who really falls sincerely in love in two days? -- and the siblings blow off their respective beaus with casual, if not heartless, ease, but this is standard stuff for the period and since everything is just a framework for some excellent Rodgers and Hammerstein tunes, it doesn't really matter. "Spring Fever," "That's For Me," "I Owe Iowa" are all fine numbers, but the best songs are Haymes [Irish Eyes are Smiling] and Blaine's zesty delivery of "Isn't It Kind of Fun?" and the movie's best song, the beautiful "It's a Grand Night for Singing," a classic Rodgers melody. State Fair was not based on a Broadway show but on the first State Fair film, a non-musical starring Will Rogers made in 1933, although Oscar Hammerstein II wrote the screenplay for this remake (just as he did the librettos for their stage musicals). The acting in this is uniformly excellent, with Donald Meek nearly stealing the picture as a judge who gets drunk on Melissa's brandy-soaked mincemeat. Percy Kilbride scores as the Frakes' pessimistic neighbor, as do Jane Nigh, Harry Morgan, and William Marshall [The Phantom Planet] in smaller roles. Remade in 1962; both versions are in color.

Verdict: As stories go, this is not exactly The King and I, but the performances are good and the songs are all lilting and memorable. ***.

OBSESSION aka THE HIDDEN ROOM

Triangle: Newton, Brown and Gray

OBSESSION (aka The Hidden Room/1949). Director: Edward Dmytryk.

Psychiatrist Clive Riordan (Robert Newton of 1952's Les Miserables) discovers that his wife Storm (Sally Gray) is carrying on with a sort of cousin, Bill (Phil Brown of Weird Woman), and decides to take matters in hand. He kidnaps the latter at gunpoint and takes him to an isolated location and chains him up. The two men have most civilized discussions about when and how Clive is going to murder Bill and how he's going to get rid of the body, wanting to experiment on Storm's little doggie at one point, which Bill strenuously objects to. Meanwhile, Storm doesn't go to the police to avoid a scandal -- what a gal! This doesn't stop Superintendent Finsbury (Naunton Wayne) from investigating Bill's disappearance, however. Will the headshrinker be found out before he has a chance to do away with his rival?  Obsession is low-key [like Newton] and unexceptional, but manages to be entertaining in spite of it, with fairly good acting, although most of the time Phil Brown doesn't seem nearly as harried, hungry or upset as he ought to be. Stiff upper lip is one thing, but most people in his situation would be literally crawling the walls. Dmytryk also directed Captive Wild Woman and many, many other films.

Verdict: Okay low-budget British suspense film. **1/2.