They Were Expendable (1945, directed by John Ford)

Posted on May 26, 2025 by Jedadiah Leland

In December of 1941, Lt. John Brickley (Robert Montgomery) commands a squadron of Navy PT boats, based in the Philippines. Brickley is convinced that the small and agile PT Boats could be used in combat but his superior officers disagree, even after viewing a demonstration of what they can do. Brickley’s second-in-command, Rusty (John Wayne), is frustrated and feels that he will never see combat. That changes when the Japanese attack Pearl Harbor and then turn their attention to the Philippines. Brickley gets his chance to show what the PT boats can do but both he and his men must also deal with the terrible risks that come with combat. Brickley and his men have been set up to fight a losing battle, only hoping to slow down the inevitable Japanese onslaught, because both they and their boats are considered to be expendable. The hot-headed Rusty learns humility when he’s sidelined by blood poisoning and he also falls in love with a nurse, Sandy (Donna Reed). However, the war doesn’t care about love or any other plans that its participants may have. With the invasion of the Philippines inevitable, it just becomes a question of who will be sent with MacArthur to Australia and who will remain behind.

One of John Ford’s best films, They Were Expendable is a tribute to the U.S. Navy and also a realistic look at the realities of combat. The movie features Ford’s trademark sentimentality and moments of humors but it also doesn’t deny that most of the characters who are left behind at the end of the movie will not survive the Japanese invasion. Even “Dad’ Knowland (Russell Simpson), the fatherly owner of a local shipyard who does repair work on the PT boats, knows that he’s expendable. He resolves to meet his fate with a rifle in hand and a jug of whiskey at his feet. Rusty, who starts out thirty for combat, comes to learn the truth about war. Ford was one of the many Hollywood directors who was recruited to film documentaries during World War II and he brings a documentarian’s touch to the scenes of combat.

Robert Montgomery had previously volunteered in France and the United Kingdom, fighting the Axis Powers before America officially entered the war. After the war began, he entered the Navy and he was a lieutenant commander when he appeared in They Were Expendable. Montgomery brought a hardened authenticity to the role of Brickley. (Montgomery also reportedly directed a few scenes when Ford was sidelined with a broken leg.) John Wayne is equally good in the role of the hot-headed Rusty, who learns the truth about combat and what it means to be expendable. The cast is full of familiar faces, many of whom were members of the John Ford stock company. Keep an eye out for Ward Bond, Cameron Mitchell, Leon Ames, Jack Holt, and Donald Curtis.

They Were Expendable is one of the best of the World War II movies. It’s a worthy film for Memorial Day and any other day.

Cleaning Out The DVR: Let Us Live! (dir by John Brahm)

Posted on October 7, 2019 by Lisa Marie Bowman

In the 1939 film, Let Us Live!, Henry Fonda plays Brick Tennant. Brick is a poor but honest taxi driver who has always lived a law-abiding life and who is looking forward to marrying waitress named Mary Roberts (Maureen O’Sullivan). However, when a taxi is used as a getaway car in a violent robbery that leaves a policeman dead, Brick finds that he’s a suspect.

At first, Brick isn’t too worried. It turns out that every taxi driver in Boston is apparently being considered a suspect. Brick is just 1 out of 120. However, when the police bring Brick in to take part in a lineup, one of the witnesses insists that Brick and his friend, Joe Linden (Alan Baxter), were involved in the robbery. Despite the fact that Brick and Mary were at a church, planning their wedding, during the robbery, Brick and Joe are arrested and put on trial for murder. Despite Brick’s initial faith in the system, he and Joe are convicted and sentenced to die.

On death row, Brick faces the inhumane reality of American justice. He watches as other prisoners slowly lose their mind as a result of neglect and abuse. He watches as another prisoner drops dead in front of him, to the indifference of the guards. Even when Mary tells him that she’s still looking for evidence that will exonerate him, Brick says that he no longer cares. The state of Massachusetts is determined to kill him and he doesn’t believe that there’s any way stop them. As Mary puts it, Brick is now dead inside.

Still, Mary continued to investigate. Helping her is a police detective named Everett (Ralph Bellamy). Everett comes to realize that two innocent men are sitting on Death Row but will he and Mary be able to find the real culprits before the state executes Brick and Joe?

While watching Let Us Live, I found it impossible not to compare the film to The Wrong Man, another film in which Henry Fonda played an innocent man being railroaded by the system. Both The Wrong Man and Let Us Live were based on a true stories, though Let Us Live takes considerably more liberty with its source material than The Wong Man does. Whereas The Wrong Man is a docudrama that’s full of moody atmosphere courtesy of director Alfred Hitchcock, Let Us Live is much more of a fast-paced, melodramatic B-move.

That said, Let Us Live! is still a definitely effective look at how an innocent man can be railroaded by a system that’s often more concerned with getting a quick conviction than actually searching for the truth. Sadly, the issues that Let Us Live deals with are just as relevant today as they were in 1939. The film’s power comes from Henry Fonda’s performance as Brick. It’s truly heart-breaking to watch Brick go from being a cheerful optimist to a man who has been so broken down by American justice that he can’t even bring himself to celebrate the news that he might be released. The film ends on a grim note, a reminder that some damage cannot be undone.

Let Us Live! is another good but obscure film that I discovered through TCM. Keep an eye out for it!

30 Days of Noir #14: Shoot to Kill (dir by William Berke)

Posted on November 14, 2018 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 1947 film, Shoot to Kill (also known as Police Reporter), opens with both a bang and a crash.

The police are chasing a car down one dark and lonely road. When that car crashes, the police are shocked to discover who was inside of it. Two men and one woman, all well-dressed. The men are both dead but the woman is merely unconscious. The police identify one of the men as being the notorious gangster, Dixie Logan (Robert Kent). It makes sense that Logan would be fleeing the police but what about his two passengers, newly elected District Attorney Lawrence Dale (Edmund MacDonald) and Dale’s wife, Marian (Luana Walters)?

The police may not be able to get any answers but fortunately, there’s a reporter around! Mitch Mitchell (Russell Wade) is a crime reporter and, seeing as how he knew both Lawrence and Marian, he seems like the perfect person to get some answers. (In fact, it was Mitch who first suggested that Lawrence should hire Marian as his administrative assistant, therefore setting in motion the whirlwind romance that would end with them married.) Mitch goes to see Marian in her hospital room and he asks her what happened.

It’s flashback time! Yes, this is one of those films where almost the entire film is a flashback. That, in itself, is not surprising. Some of the best film noirs of all time were just extended flashbacks. (D.O.A, Double Indemnity, and Sunset Boulevard, to name just a few examples.) What sets Shoot to Kill apart is the fact that, occasionally, we even get characters having a second flashback while already in someone else’s flashback. We’re through the the film noir looking glass here, people.

Lawrence Dale, we’re told, was elected district attorney because he managed to secure the conviction of notorious gangster Dixie Logan, despite Logan’s insistence that he was no longer involved in the rackets. However, what we soon discover is that not only was Logan actually innocent but Dale specifically prosecuted him as a favor to some of Dale’s rival gangsters. That’s right, Lawrence Dale was on the take! It also turns out that Marian has some secrets of her own. When she first showed up at Dale’s office, she was doing more than just looking for a job. As for her marriage to Dale …. well, I really can’t tell you what the twist is here because it would spoil the entire film.

Shoot To Kill may clock in at just 64 minutes but it manages to pack a lot of twists and turns into just an hour. In fact, I’d argue that it probably tries to do a little bit too much. At times, the film is a bit difficult to follow and a few inconsistent performances don’t help matters. For instance, Russell Wade is likable as the crime reporter but he still doesn’t exactly have a dynamic screen presence. Much better cast are Luana Walters and Edmund MacDonald, who both do a good job as, respectively, a femme fatale and a sap. At the very least, history nerds like me will be amused by the fact that Edmund MacDonald was obviously made up to resemble Thomas E. Dewey, the former Manhattan District Attorney who twice lost the U.S. presidency.

The best thing about Shoot To Kill is the look of the movie. Filmed in grainy black-and-white and full of dark shadows, crooked camera angles, and men in fedoras lighting cigarettes in alleys, Shoot to Kill looks the way that a film noir is supposed to look.

Regardless of whether it was the filmmaker’s original intention, Shoot To Kill plays out like a low-budget, black-and-white fever dream. It’s definitely a flawed film but, for lovers of film noir, still worth a look.

Halloween Havoc!: Boris Karloff in THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG (Columbia 1939)

Posted on October 30, 2016 by gary loggins

cracked rear viewer

Bela Lugosi ( see yesterday’s post ) wasn’t the only horror icon who starred in a series of low-budget shockers. Boris Karloff signed a five picture deal with Columbia Pictures that was later dubbed the “Mad Doctor” series and, while several notches above Lugosi’s “Monogram Nine”, they were cookie-cutter flicks intended for the lower half of double feature bills. The first of these was THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG, which sets the tone for the films to follow.

Karloff plays Dr. Henry Savaard, inventor of a new surgical technique that requires the patient to die, then reviving him with a mechanical heart after performing the operation. This later became standard operating procedure during open-heart surgery, but back in 1939 was considered science fiction! Anyway, Savaard’s young assistant Bob agrees to go through the experimental procedure, but his girlfriend freaks out and calls the cops, claiming Savaard is about to murder…

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The Fabulous Forties #21: Shock (dir by Alfred L. Werker)

Posted on April 24, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 20th film in Mill Creek’s Fabulous Forties box set was Frank Capra’s Meet John Doe. Since I had already watched and reviewed Meet John Doe for last year’s Shattered Politics series of reviews, I decided to skip forward to the next film.

That film turned out to be the 1946 psychological thriller, Shock (not to be confused with Mario Bava’s masterpiece of the same name).

Shock opens with a young housewife named Jane Stewart (Anabel Shaw) waking from a dream, getting out of bed, looking out a window, and seeing something rather serious happening in the house next door. A man and a woman are arguing. Though Jane doesn’t recognize the man, horror fans will immediately realize that he’s Vincent Price, without a mustache. As Jane watches, the man beats the woman to death. When Jane’s husband, Lt. Paul Stewart (Frank Latimore), returns home, he discovers that Jane is in a catatonic state.

Paul calls the local cranky physician, Dr. Harvey (Charles Trowbridge), to the house. Dr. Harvey takes one look at Jane and announces, “She’s in shock!” (YAY! WE HAVE A TITLE!) Paul looks confused so Dr. Harvey goes on to explain, “She’s had a great shock.” Unfortunately, Dr. Harvey is not trained to deal with shock but he knows someone who is. That man’s name is Dr. Richard Cross.

Soon Dr. Cross shows up and — OH MY GOD, IT’S VINCENT PRICE! That’s right — Dr. Cross not only caused Jane’s shock but now he’s going to treat it! Or is he? Though Dr. Cross claims to be wracked with guilt over the murder, his nurse, Elaine Jordan (Lynn Bari), is less concerned about it. In fact, since Elaine is also his mistress, she’s rather happy that Dr. Cross has murdered his wife. Now, she just has to convince him to murder Jane before she recovers from her shock.

(Interestingly enough, Dr. Cross’s plan involves treating Jane with insulin shock therapy, which would seem to indicate that Dr. Cross has seen Dr. Kildare’s Strange Case too many times.)

I had high hopes for Shock, largely because of the presence of Vincent Price. From what I’ve read, the box office success of Shock changed the course of Price’s career. Before Shock, Price was a character actor who occasionally got a good supporting role. After Shock, he was transformed into the horror icon who we all know and love today. Shock was the first time that Price was cast in the type of mad scientist role that would later become his trademark. For that reason, Shock has an important place in the history of cinematic terror.

But, unfortunately, Shock itself is kind of forgettable. It’s pretty much your standard thriller, one that makes the mistake of revealing Price’s villainy from the start. (It would have been far more effective if the film tried to shock us with the realization that Price is the bad guy.) It’s always fun to watch Vincent Price in a movie but he actually gives a rather subdued performance here and, as a result, he’s not as much fun as he would be in his later films. In other words, Shock is no House On Haunted Hill.

That said, Shock is definitely a piece of film history and, as such, it’s worth watching. And here it is:

Cleaning Out The DVR #31: Libeled Lady (dir by Jack Conway)

Posted on March 17, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

(For those following at home, Lisa is attempting to clean out her DVR by watching and reviewing 38 films by the end of this Friday. Will she make it? Keep following the site to find out!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JI-eY-bU9qg

In the 1936 comedy Libeled Lady, tabloid newspaper editor Warren Haggerty (Spencer Tracy) has a problem. His newspaper has just published a story accusing wealthy heiress Connie Allenbury (Myrna Loy) of being the other woman in a scandalous divorce. The problem is that Connie was not the “other woman” and she is now suing the newspaper for $5,000,000.

“5 million dollars!” an astonished Warren declares, “nobody has that type of money!”

(It was 1936, after all.)

However, Warren has a plan and, since this is a screwball comedy, it’s an unneccesarily complicated plan. He hires a former reporter, the suave Bill Chandler (William Powell, the suavest man alive in the 30s) to meet with Connie. Warren believes that there’s no way that Connie won’t fall in love with Bill. (Perhaps Warren had recently seen The Thin Man…) Once Connie does fall in love, Warren will arrange for Bill’s wife to catch the two of them together. In order to avoid the scandal, Connie will drop the suit.

The problem is that Bill isn’t married. However, Warren has a solution for that as well. Warren arranges for Bill to marry Warren’s fiancée, Gladys (Jean Harlow). Gladys is not happy about the arrangement but goes along with it because, despite his behavior, she truly loves Warren and Warren promises her that the marriage will only last for 6 weeks.

(When the minister says that he hopes he’ll be invited to the new couple’s silver anniversary, Gladys replies, “It better be in six weeks.”)

And, at first, things go as planned. Bill meets Connie on a luxury cruise and she quickly falls in love with him. However, Bill finds himself falling in love with her too. Soon, he no longer wants to frame her. However, that’s not the only complication. Finally fed up with Warren’s behavior, Gladys has started to think that maybe it would be better to be married to Bill. Soon, she decides that she has no intention of getting a divorce…

Libeled Lady is a minor but enjoyable screwball comedy. The plot is thoroughly implausible but, fortunately, William Powell was one of those actors who could get you to believe almost anything. As anyone who has seen any of the Thin Man films can tell you, Powell and Myrna Loy had great chemistry together. Spencer Tracy seems a little uncomfortable with the role of Warren but Jean Harlow is a lot of fun as Gladys. She doesn’t have a big role but, at the same time, you can still understand why she was such a huge star and why her tragic death a year later was such a shock.

(At the time the movie was made, Harlow was dating William Powell. She wanted to play Connie but MGM was determined to repeat the formula of previous William Powell/Myrna Loy comedies and Harlow settled for the secondary role of Gladys.)

As enjoyable as the film is, it still does seem a bit strange that it was nominated for best picture. It lost the Oscar to The Great Ziegfeld, another MGM film that starred William Powell and Myrna Loy.

Lisa Reviews An Oscar Nominee: Sergeant York (dir by Howard Hawks)

Posted on February 11, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

The 1941 film Sergeant York was the American Sniper of its day. A biopic of Alvin York, one of the most decorated American soldiers of World War I, Sergeant York was not only a huge box office hit but it was a film that celebrated American patriotism in the type of unabashed fashion that you would never see in a film made today. Though Sergeant York went into production at a time when the United States was officially pursuing a policy of international neutrality, it was released shortly before the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and, whether intentionally or not, Sergeant York served as a strong recruiting tool. According to Wikipedia (and we all know that Wikipedia is never wrong), there were reports of young men going straight from the movie to the nearest military recruitment office.

Clocking in at nearly two and a half hours (and running at least 40 minutes too long), Sergeant York is two films in one. The second half of the film deals with the military career of Alvin York (Gary Cooper), a plain-spoken and honest Tennessee farmer who, because of his strong religious beliefs, unsuccessfully attempts to register as a conscientious objector. Forced into the Army, York is, at first, dismissed as a simple-minded hillbilly. (His fellow soldiers are amused to discover that York doesn’t know what a subway is.) However, to the shock of his commanding officers, he proves himself to be an expert marksman. As he explains it, being from the country means that he’s been shooting a rifle his entire life.

On the basis of his skills as a marksman, York is given a promotion but he still says that he refuses to kill. It’s not until his superior officer reminds him of the sacrifices that past Americans have made that York starts to reconsider his position. Then, a gust of wind opens York’s bible to a verse about giving unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and York realizes that he can go to war and, if need be, he can kill.

And it’s a good thing that he can! Because World War I is heating up and York may be the only guy around with the strength and confidence to single-handedly defeat and capture over 170 German soldiers.

The army section of Sergeant York is predictable but well-done. As you’d expect from a film directed by Howard Hawks, a lot of emphasis is put on how the soldiers work together. York is portrayed not as being super human but instead as just an honest man who is exceptionally good at his job. There’s nothing surprising about the second half of Sergeant York but Hawks keeps the action moving and Cooper gives a good performance.

To be honest, I preferred the first half of the film, which examined York’s life before he joined the Army. When we first meet Alvin York, he drinks too much, he fights too much, and he’s totally irresponsible. It’s not until he falls in love with Gracie Williams (Joan Leslie) that York starts to change his ways. The scenes of York in the backwoods of Tennessee had a lively feel to them and it was enjoyable to see Cooper play a somewhat disreputable character. Cooper seemed to be having fun playing a ne’er-do-well and, in the scenes before York finds God, his bad behavior was a lot of fun to watch.

Considering its success at the box office, it’s not surprising that Sergeant York was nominated for best picture of the year. While Gary Cooper won the Oscar for best actor, the award for Best Picture went to How Green Was My Valley.

Lisa Reviews an Oscar Nominee: Our Town (dir by Sam Wood)

Posted on February 2, 2016 by Lisa Marie Bowman

(SPOILERS BELOW! THE END OF THIS FILM WILL BE REVEALED! I will also be revealing who played George Gibbs but that’s probably not as big a spoiler. It depends how you look at it.)

I was only 15 years old when I first read Our Town. Because I was a theater nerd, I knew a little about the play. For instance, I knew it took place in a small town. I knew that it was narrated by a character known as the Stage Manager. I knew that the play was meant to be performed on a bare stage, with no sets or props. What I did not know, as I innocently opened up that booklet, is that Our Town is probably one of the most traumatically depressing plays ever written.

When the stage manager appears at the start of the play and talks about the town of Grover’s Corner, he lulls you into believing that you’re about to see a sentimental, comedic, and old-fashioned celebration of small town life. We meet the characters and they all seem to be quirky in a properly non-threatening way. Joe Crowell shows up delivers a newspaper to Doc Gibbs. The stage manager mentions that Joe will eventually grow up to attend to M.I.T.

“Awwwww! Good for Joe!” the audience says.

And, the Stage Manager goes on to inform us, as soon as Joe graduates, he will be killed in World War I, his expensive education wasted.

Okay, the audience thinks, that was a dark moment but this play was written at a time when World War I was still fresh on everyone’s mind. Surely the rest of the play will not be quite as dark…

And fortunately, George Gibbs and Emily Webb show up. They’re young, they’re likable, and they’re in love! George and Emily get married and they’re prepared to live a long and happy life in our town! Good for them! YAY!

And then Act III begins…

Oh my God, Act III. Act III begins with almost everyone dead. Emily died in child birth so she hangs out at the local cemetery and talks to all the other dead people, the majority of whom only have vague memories of their former lives. Emily relives the day of her 12th birthday and discovers that it’s too painful to remember what it was like to once be alive. Emily asks the Stage Manager if anyone truly appreciates life. The Stage Manager replies, “No.” In the world of the living, George Gibbs sobs over his wife’s grave….

And the play ends!

OH MY GOD!

Seriously, reading Our Town was probably one of the most traumatic experiences of my life!

The 1940 film version of Our Town is a little less traumatic because it changes the ending. In the film version, Emily doesn’t die. She nearly dies while giving birth to her second child and the entire third act of the play is basically portrayed as being a near-death hallucination. But, in the end, she survives and she comes through the experience with a new found appreciation for life.

And it’s certainly the type of happy ending that I was hoping for when I first read the play but, as much as I hate to admit it, the story works better with Emily dying than with Emily surviving. The play presents death as being as inevitable as life and love and it makes the point that there’s nothing we can do to truly prepare for it. By allowing Emily to live, the film gives us a ray of hope that wasn’t present anywhere else in Our Town. The happy ending feels inauthentic. If Emily could live then why couldn’t Joe Crowell? For that matter, why did Emily’s younger brother have to die of a burst appendix on a camping trip?

But, other than the changed ending, Our Town is a pretty good adaptation of the stage play. While the film features an actual set (as opposed to the bare stage on which theatrical versions of Our Town are meant to be performed), director Sam Wood does a good job of retaining the play’s surreal, metatheatrical style. Making good use of shadow and darkness, Wood and cinematographer Bert Glennon made Grover’s Corner seem like a half-remembered memory or a fragment of a barely cohesive dream.

Frank Craven, who originated the role on Broadway, is properly dry as the Stage Manager and, in the role of Doc Gibbs, Thomas Mitchell is so sober and respectable that it’s hard to believe that, in just 6 years, the same actor would play the delightfully irresponsible Uncle Billy in It’s A Wonderful Life. Emily and George are played by Martha Scott and an impossibly young William Holden, both of whom give wonderfully appealing performances.

With the exception of that changed ending, Our Town is a worthy adaptation of a classic play. It was nominated for Best Picture but lost to another literary adaptation, Alfred Hitchcock’s Rebecca.