Film Review: Berlin Correspondent (dir by Eugene Forde)


In the 1942 film, Berlin Correspondent, Dana Andrews plays Bill Roberts.

Bill is an American journalist, working out of Berlin.  Because the film takes place before America’s entry into World War II, Bill pretends to report only what the Germans want him to report.  Even while there are bombs exploding outside of the studio, Bill and his fellow correspondents report that everyone in Berlin is happy and that the German government is doing a great job.

However, Bill fills his reporting with code words, which are then interpreted by listeners in the American Intelligence service.  They understand that when Bill says that the people are happy, that means that they’re actually miserable.  When Bill says that the weather in Berlin is cloudy, that means that there is dissent brewing in the government.

Still, Captain Von Rau (Martin Kosleck) comes to suspect that Bill might be sending out secret messages and he decides to send someone to not only compromise Bill but to also discover who is feeding Bill information.  Von Rau sends his own fiancée, Karen Hauen (Virginia Gilmore), to seduce Bill.  Little does Von Rau suspect that Bill’s source of information is Karen’s own father (Erwin Kalser) and that Karen herself is going to end up falling in love with Bill.

Berlin Correspondent is typical of the films that were made to try to build support for the American war effort during the Second World War.  The hero is a tough and cynical American who pretends to not care about what is happening in the rest of the world but who eventually reveals himself to be an idealist with a strong sense of right and wrong.  Bill may say that he’s only in Berlin to report the news but, when Karen’s father is sent to a concentration camp, Bill proves himself to be willing to risk his own life to help the older man make it to Switzerland.  Karen’s father stands in for the members of the German resistance who worked from the inside to bring down the Nazis.  Bill and Karen’s love serves as a reminder that the world can come back together but only after Hitler has been defeated.

The two main Nazi villains are played by Martin Kosleck and Sig Ruman, two German actors who immigrated to the United States to escape the real-life Nazis.  Kosleck and Ruman play their characters as being buffoonish bullies who are easily outsmarted by street smart Americans like Bill.  It’s the film’s way of saying to the audience, “Are you really going to let these idiots think that they can defeat America?”  Still, a scene is included in which a crippled girl is described as being someone who should be put to death.  It’s a necessary reminder that the Nazis may be idiots but they’re also a legitimate threat.

Berlin Correspondent clocks in at a brisk 70 minutes and it features a typically strong leading performance from Dana Andrews.  If you needed someone to fight for America, 40s-era Dana Andrews would definitely be a good pick to go with.  It’s a joy to watch him outsmart the Nazis.

Law of the Canyon (1947, directed by Ray Nazarro)


When a gang of outlaws starts hijacking freight wagons and then ransoming them back to their owners, government agent Steve Langtry (Charles Starrett) is sent to investigate.  He both goes undercover as an inexperienced traveler and as the masked Durango Kid.  As always, he is accompanied by Smiley Burnette.  In this installment, Smiley tries to invent a machine that can find silver and he also sings a few songs.  His backing band, The Lone Star Cowboys, follow him everywhere that he goes but they don’t actually get involved in the action.

This is another Durango Kid movie, with all of the usual horse chases and shootouts.  The same action montage that started Phantom Valley also starts this movie.  As always, Charles Starrett is convincing when riding a horse or shooting a gun.

What sets this Durango Kid movie apart from the others is the main villain.  Dr. Middleton (played by a regular member of the Durango Kid stock company, Fred F. Sears) appears to be a kindly man who serves as a middleman between the citizens and the outlaws.  Actually, he is working with the outlaws and receives a commission of every ransom that he negotiates.  The reason he can get away with it is because he’s drugged the Sheriff (George Cheseboro)!  He attempts to drug Durango too but luckily, Smiley drinks the water instead.

While it won’t convert anyone who isn’t already a fan of the genre or the character, this is another entertaining outing for the Durango Kid.

Film Review: The Man I Married (dir by Irving Pichel)


In 1940’s The Man I Married, Joan Bennett stars as Carol Cabbott Hoffman.

Carol is a New York-based art critic.  She is young, sophisticated, wealthy, and politically naive.  Because she has been married to a German for seven years, she has been keeping up with what has been happening in Germany but it’s clear that she doesn’t really understand the full story of what she’s hearing.  As she says, at one point, she has heard bad things about the Nazis but she also tries to keep an open mind and not get drawn in by “propaganda.”

Her husband, Eric Hoffman (Francis Lederer), has not been back to Germany in ten years and he says that he has little interest in ever returning.  But, when he receives a letter from his father (Otto Kruger), Eric announces that he has to return home for a visit.  Before Carol, Eric, and their son, Ricky (Johnny Russell), leave for Germany, they are approached by their friend, Dr. Hugo Gerhardt (Ludwig Stossel).  He explains that his brother has been imprisoned in a concentration camp and he asks Carol and Eric to deliver money to him and to appeal to the American embassy for help.  Carol agrees to do so.  Eric is noticeably reticent.

As soon as they arrive in Germany and Eric learns that his father wants him to take over the family’s factory, Eric starts to change.  He and a former schoolmate named Freida (Anna Sten) are a bit too happy to see each other again.  Eric insists on listening to the nightly radio broadcasts from Dr. Goebbels.  When Freida mentions that it is illegal to joke about Hitler, Eric surprises Carol by defending the law.  With Eric spending all of his time with Freida and dismissing Carol’s understandable suspicions by saying that she’s just being jealous, Carol meets an American correspondent named Keith (Lloyd Nolan) who reveals to her the truth of life in Nazi Germany.  Carol discovers that, rather than being the economically-strong paradise that Eric and Freida claim it to be, Germany is a place where many citizens live in fear of being heard saying the wrong thing and, as a result, they’ve chosen to close their eyes to what is going on around them.

The Man I Married is an interesting film.  It’s an anti-Nazi film that was released at a time when America was still technically a neutral nation.  Indeed, the film almost feels like it was made to prepare Americans for the inevitability of war with Germany.  When Keith mocks Carol for trying to be neutral about the Nazis, it’s clear that he’s meant to be speaking to the audience watching the film.  Eric begins the film as an erudite and seemingly charming man but, as soon as he arrives in Germany and is reunited with Freida, he reveals himself to be a fervent Nazi.  The film warns the audience not to trust those who were trying to excuse or dismiss Germany’s actions.

This is also one of the few films made before World War II that really acknowledged just how central anti-Semitism was to the Nazi ideology, acknowledging the concentration camps at a time when many in the West were refusing to admit they existed, either because they were in denial or because they just didn’t care.  Towards the end of the film, a major character is discovered to have had a Jewish mother and the reaction to the news reveals the hate that was at the heart of the Third Reich.

The Man I Married, with its portrayal of a populace that has convinced itself that their government is never to be questioned and that all dissent must be punished, is a film that feels just as relevant today as it did in 1940.  It’s a film that warns viewers of the risk of disbelieving their own eyes.

Phantom Valley (1948, directed by Ray Nazarro)


There’s trouble in Phantom Valley.  The ranchers who founded the town are increasingly at odds with the newly arrived homesteaders.  Each side blames the other for the tensions.  Marshal Steve Collins (Charles Starrett) is sent to investigate who is responsible for all of the trouble but, when two people are murdered, it is up Steve’s alter ego, the masked Durango Kid, to investigate and solve the murders.  Helping him out is his ever-loyal sidekick, Smiley Burnette.  Smiley compares himself to Sherlock Holmes, walks around with a magnifying glass, and sings a few songs.

This Durango Kid film opens with a exciting montage of cattle stampedes, shoot-outs, floods, and horse chases.  Even though it’s almost all stock footage that appeared in a countless number of other B-movies, it’s still exciting to watch.  Despite the opening montage, there’s still less stock footage than usual in Phantom Valley.  The emphasis is instead on the Durango Kid as a detective, trying to solve a stone-cold whodunit.  It makes for an interesting change of pace and the Durango Kid gets to show off his intelligence along with his shooting and horse riding skills.  Charles Starrett is convincing as a detective.  Even if he is trying to solve the case a century before finger printing, The Durango Kid knows that hand-writing is just as easy a way to identity a culprit.  Smiley Burnette, as usual, handles the comedic relief and the singing.  I could have done without the songs but Smiley trying to use a magnifying glass and losing his temporary position as the town’s marshal to a child will always be good for a laugh.

Phantom Valley was a welcome change of pace for the Durango Kid.  Western fans will find much to appreciate.

Streets of Ghost Town (1950, directed by Ray Nazarro)


Years ago, Bill Donner (George Cheseboro) double-crossed the other members of the Selby Gang and ran off with all of their stolen gold.  Now, Donner is blind and half-crazy.  When he says that he hid the gold in the ghost town of Shadeville, the Durango Kid (Charles Starrett), Smiley Burnette, and Sheriff Dodge (Stanley Andrews) ride off to find it.

Shadeville is long abandoned and, as the three men spend the night in a deserted saloon, Smiley is worried about ghosts.  The Durango Kid tells the story of the first time he met the Selby Gang.  The next morning, they discover that they are not the only ones who have come to Shadeville to look for the gold.

Like many of the later Durango Kid movies, Streets of Ghost Town is mostly made up of stock footage to Starrett’s earlier films.  This was a cost-cutting technique on the part of Columbia Pictures but it actually works because the flashbacks were always to the horse chases and the gunfights that the audience came to see in the first place.  In the days before home video and cable, those scenes were probably still new to many of the people sitting in the theater.

Starrett always made for a good hero and Smiley Burnett’s comic relief never took away from the films’s storylines.  This outing features a great scene where Durango shoots a skull in the dark just to let anyone watching him know that he’s a good shot.  I also enjoyed George Cheseboro’s manic performance as a man who really loves his gold.  Despite all of the stock footage, Streets of Ghost Town is still an above average Durango Kid film, predictable but entertaining if you’re a fan of the genre.

Film Review: Underground (dir by Vincent Sherman)


1941’s Underground tells the story of two brothers on opposite sides in Nazi Germany.

Kurt Franken (Jeffrey Lynn) is a patriotic German who believes that the country got a raw deal at the end of World War I and who is a strong supporter of the Nazis.  He served in the army, fighting on the front.  When he returns home to Berlin, he’s missing an arm.  Whenever his friends and his family say that they’re sorry that he lost his arm, he replies that he was happy to make the sacrifice for his country.  When someone starts to mourn for his son who was killed in the fighting, Kurt accuses the man of being a traitor for doubting the wisdom of the government.  Kurt is a true believer, just the type to be recruited by the SS and tasked with helping to investigate who is behind a series of anti-Nazi radio broadcasts.  Kurt believes that, if the government says it, it must be right.  Laws must be obeyed and orders followed without question.  Kurt, in other words, is a very familiar type.

What Kurt doesn’t realize is that the man behind the broadcasts is his own brother, Eric (Phillip Dorn).  As Kurt investigates, he falls in love with Sylvia (Kaaren Verne) without realizing that she is also a part of the resistance.  While Kurt tries to discover who is behind the underground radio station, Eric and his fellow resistance members attempt to stay one step ahead of the Gestapo.

For a film made in 1941, the film’s doesn’t flinch from showing the brutality of the Gestapo.  Like all authoritarian dictatorships, The Third Reich is determined to quash any and all signs of dissent and they investigate the underground radio station with a ruthlessness that even takes Kurt by surprise.  Witnessing first hand the brutality and sadism of the government for which he gave his arm, Kurt starts to doubt his previous beliefs.  But will Kurt’s doubts come in time to save the lives of Eric and his fellow resistance members?

Made at a time when the United States was still officially neutral in the violent conflict that was sweeping the rest of the world and released just a few months before the U.S. officially declared war on the Axis Powers, Underground is a powerful look at life under a dictatorship.  Shot in a noir style, the film’s black-and-white imagery perfectly captures the harshness of life in Germany while the shadows in the background perfectly capture the paranoia of knowing that saying the wrong word could lead to arrest, torture, and death.  The film’s final minutes involve a guillotine sitting ominously in the background, a reminder that Nazi Germany was not the first authoritarian regime and that it would not be the last.

The film is well-acted, with Jeffrey Lynn epitomizing the otherwise intelligent people who allow themselves to get caught up in the madness of the majority.  His discovery of the truth about Germany was obviously meant to mirror the awakening of the Americans who previously supported a policy of neutrality.  By the end of the film, both Karl Franken and the audience understand that the time for neutrality has passed.

Marshal of Heldorado (1950, directed by Thomas Carr)


Heldorado, Arizona is a frontier town with a problem.  The Tullivers, led by Mike (Tom Tyler), keep robbing the bank and running off anyone who agrees to be the town’s marshal.

The Colonel (Raymond Hatton) and the Mayor (Fuzzy Knight) are at their wits end until a bison hunter named Lucky (Russell Hayden) comes riding into town in search of work.  They hire Lucky to be their new marshal, paying him $200 a week and allowing him three free drinks a day.

They also give Lucky a cabin to stay in but when Shamrock Ellison (James Ellison), a dandy from up north, rides into town on a donkey, Lucky decides to rent him the cabin.  When Ellison arrives at the cabin, he finds two Tulliver brothers looking for the stolen money that they hid in the fireplace.  The brothers try to shoot Ellison but accidentally end up shooting themselves instead.

When Ellison says that he wants to keep a low profile, Lucky takes credit for killing the two Tullivers.  When Mike shows up looking for revenge, Lucky has a change of heart and gives all the credit for Ellison.  Lucky makes Ellison his deputy but what he doesn’t know is that Ellison is actually a government agent who has been sent to Heldorado to clean the town up.

This B-western does a good job of mixing comedy with action.  It was one of many films that Ellison and Hayden made together and Hayden’s bluster plays off well against Ellison’s more serious performance.  Much of the humor comes from Ellison having to keep the other townspeople from realizing that he’s a crack shot who knows how ride a horse as well as anyone in town.  As well, Fuzzy Knight has his moments as the always drinking mayor.  The action scenes are well-choreographed and there’s even a suspenseful scene where Ellison gets a shave from a barber who is actually a relative of the Tullivers.  As always, the beautiful Julia Adams is a welcome addition to the cast as the Colonel’s daughter, who falls for Ellison.  For fans of the genre, there’s plenty of entertainment to be found in this brisk, 50-minute western.

Retro Television Review: The Hunted Lady (dir by Richard Lang)


Welcome to Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past!  On Sundays, I will be reviewing the made-for-television movies that used to be a primetime mainstay.  Today’s film is 1977’s The Hunted Lady!  It  can be viewed on YouTube.

Detective Susan Reilly (Donna Mills) reluctantly teams up with a chauvinistic cop named Sgt. Arizzio (Alan Feinstein) to investigate a United States senator who has presidential ambitions.  Arizzio believes that the senator is being back by the Mafia and that it would be disastrous for the country if a mob-connected politician ended up in the White House.  (Being mob-connected didn’t seem to hurt John F. Kennedy but still….)

Now, Detective Reilly and Sgt. Arizzio working together to take down a corrupt senator sounds like an intriguing premise for a movie, right?  Well, oddly enough, that’s not what this movie is actually about.  Instead, it’s about Susan going on the run after she’s framed for Arizzio’s murder.  She escapes from police custody with the help of her father.  Though she’s still recovering from being shot earlier in the film, Susan makes her way to Reno and attempts to hide out from both the cops and the Mafia assassin that has been sent to kill her.

Susan hiding out in Reno.  Hmmm …. sound like an intriguing premise for a movie, right?  Well, don’t get to attached to Susan pretending to be a professional gambler because it turns out that bullet wound was more serious than she realized and she ends up passing out from blood loss.  When she awakens, she’s in a free clinic that is run by Dr. Arthur Sills (Robert Reed).  Dr. Sills doesn’t ask Susan too many questions about her past and even hires Susan on as a nurse.  Susan and Dr. Sills fall in love and try to clear the name of a Native American who has been accused of blowing stuff up.

Doing some research, I was not surprised to discover that The Hunted Lady was originally developed as a possible television show.  The show would have played out like a combination of Charlie’s Angels and The Fugitive, with Susan moving from town to town and getting involved with a new set of guest stars each week.  With both the police and the mob trying to track her down, Susan would try to clear her name while also helping out strangers.  Unfortunately, The Hunted Lady wasn’t exactly a hit in the ratings and Susan’s further adventures went untold.

The main problem with The Hunted Lady is an obvious one.  The idea of the Mafia trying to install one of their guys in the White House is considerably more intriguing that Susan falling in love with Dr. Sills while working at a free clinic.  The whole time that Susan was helping the doctor’s patients, I was thinking, “But what about the senator?”  Donna Mills was surprisingly convincing as a tough cop but she had next to no chemistry with Robert Reed.  If anything, Reed looked annoyed at just having to be there.

Anyway, here’s hoping that Susan cleared her name eventually.  You can only run for so long.

Diner (1982, directed by Barry Levinson)


Which member of the Diner gang would you be?

I think that is the question that everyone, or at least every guy, asks themselves after watching Barry Levinson’s debut film.  Most would probably want to say that they’re Boogie (Mickey Rourke), because he’s cool, all the ladies love him, and he makes creative use of a popcorn box at the movies.  Some would probably say that they want to be Fenwick (Kevin Bacon) because he’s smart and sarcastic.  No one wants to be Billy (Tim Daly) or Eddie (Steve Guttenberg), even though we would all want to be their friend.

The truth is that most of us would probably be Shrevie (Daniel Stern), the just-married one who is discovering that being an adult means working an unglamorous job and discovering the rest of the world doesn’t care about your taste in music.  The luckiest of us might be Modell (Paul Reiser), the funny one who doesn’t get a story but who makes a lot of jokes.

Diner was one of the first great hang-out movies.  There is no plot, at least not in the traditional sense.  Instead, it’s about a group of long-time friends who live in Baltimore in 1959.  They grew up together.  They went to high school together.  They’ve been hanging out at the same diner for as long as they can all remember.  And now, they’re at the point in their lives where the world expects them to act like adults and accept all the responsibility that goes along with that.  It’s a film that celebrates their friendship while also acknowledging that some of them are using that friendship as an excuse to not grow up.  They escape into trivia and movies, with one minor character reciting Sweet Smell of Success by memory.  Fenwick drinks.  Boogie gambles.  Even Billy, who doesn’t even live in Baltimore anymore, reverts to his old ways as soon as he returns for Eddie’s wedding and ends up sucker punching someone because of an old high school incident.

The preparations for Eddie’s wedding gives the film what structure it has.  Eddie is marrying the unseen Elyse, assuming she can pass his demanding quiz about the Baltimore Colts.  (That may sound unfair but if you’re from Baltimore, you’ll understand.)  While Eddie gets ready for his wedding, Shrevie’s marriage to Beth (Ellen Barkin) seems to be falling apart and she finds herself tempted to cheat with Boogie, who has his own problems with a local bookie.  Meanwhile, Billy learns that his girlfriend (Kathryn Dowling) is pregnant.

The film is about friendship and the friendships between the men feel real.  Levinson held off on shooting the largely improvised diner scenes until the end of the film, by which time all of the actors had developed their own idiosyncratic relationships with each other.  The heart of Diner is to be found in scenes like the one where Modell tries to ask for someone else’s sandwich without actually coming out and asking for it.  The dialogue in that scene and so many others has the ring of age-old friendship.  Though the film makes it easy to see why Mickey Rourke and Kevin Bacon become movie stars while Tim Daly has spent most of his career on television, the entire cast is still perfect in their roles.  It’s about as strong as an ensemble as you could ever hope to see.  They become the characters and watching the movie, it’s impossible not to see yourself and your friends in their performances.

Barry Levinson has gone on to direct many more films but for me, Diner will always be the best.

 

Film Review: The Man In The Glass Booth (dir by Arthur Hiller)


Who is Arthur Goldman?

That’s the question at the heart of the 1975 film, The Man In The Glass Booth.

When we first meet Arthur Goldman (Maximilian Schell), he is a wealthy businessman who lives in a Manhattan high-rise and who appears to rarely leave the safety of his penthouse.  He is waited on by two assistants, Jack (Henry Brown) and Charlie (Lawrence Pressman), both of whom he talks to and treats as if they are members of his own family.  His most frequent visitor is his psychiatrist, Dr. Weissburger (Robert H. Harris), who frequently stops by and asks Arthur if he’s been taking his medication.

Arthur Goldman is a man who loves to talk.  Indeed, the first hour of the film feels almost like a nonstop monologue on the part of Goldman, with just occasional interjections from the other characters.  Goldman was born in Germany.  He talks about how, when he was young, he and his family were sent to a concentration camp and it was there that he witnessed the murder of his father by the camp’s sadistic commandant, Dorff.  Dorff is one of the many Nazis who disappeared to South America at the end of the war.

When Goldman spots a car that always seems to be parked across the street from his building, he becomes paranoid.  He says that he’s being watched and even suggests that Dorff has come to capture him.  Instead, it turns out that Mossad come for him.  As the agents explain it to Charlie, dental records prove that Arthur Goldman is actually Commandant Dorff.  Goldman/Dorff is taken back to Israel to stand trial for his crimes.

Are Arthur Goldman and Dorff the same man?  Once in Israel, Goldman tells anyone who will listen that he is Dorff and that he feels no guilt for his actions.  He insists on being allowed to wear his SS uniform during the trial.  Because of threats to his safety, a booth made of bullet-proof glass has been placed in the courtroom.  As the trial commences, The Man in the Glass Booth continues to rant and rave and declare his guilt.  However, the prosecutor (Lois Nettleton) comes to doubt that the man is who he says he is.

The Man In The Glass Booth is based on a novel and play by Robert Shaw.  (The same year that The Man In The Glass Booth was released, Shaw played Quint in Jaws.)  The film was produced as a part of an experiment called American Film Theatre, in which well-known plays would be adapted to film and then would be shown at 500 participating movie theaters in America.  Each production would only be shown four times at each theater and subscriptions were sold for an entire “season” of films.  It sounds like an interesting experiment and the type of thing that I would have enjoyed if I had been around back then.  Today, of course, these productions would have just premiered on a streaming service.

The Man In The Glass Booth is a film that very much feels like a filmed play.  There are only three locations — Goldman’s penthouse, his cell, and the courtroom where he is put on trial.  The three act structure is very easy to spot.  Maximilian Schell’s performance is also very theatrical.  In fact, it’s so theatrical that, for the first hour or so, I found myself wishing that he would just stop talking for a few second or two.  He was so dramatic and so flamboyant and so intentionally over-the-top that he became somewhat exhausting.  But, during the second hour, I came to see that all of that “overacting” was actually setting up the film’s final act.  Schell talks so much that, when he finally does find himself unable to explain himself, it’s a shocking moment and one that perfectly captures not just the evil of the Nazis and the Holocaust but also how the legacy of that evil lives on after the fall of the Third Reich and the deaths of the majority of the Holocaust’s perpetrators.  At that moment, I realized that The Man In The Glass Booth never stopped speaking because silence would force him to confront the horrors of the past and the trauma, guilt, and uncertainty lurking in his subconscious.  Maximilian Schell was nominated for an Oscar for his performance here and, by the end of the film, I totally understood why.

The Man In The Glass Booth requires some patience.  Actually, it requires a lot of patience.  However, those who stick with it will discover an intelligent and thought-provoking film about not only the horror of the past but also how those in the present deal with and rationalize those horrors.  Though the film is a bit too stagey for its own good, it’s also one that sticks with you even after the curtain falls and the end credits roll.