Dorothy Adams | Through the Shattered Lens

Welcome to Noirvember!

Yeah, yeah, I know. That sounds kinda silly, doesn’t it? However, November is traditionally the month that classic film bloggers tend to concentrate on writing about film noir. It provides a bit of grit and cynicism in between the horror fun of October and the holiday schmaltz of December.

I have to admit that I’m a little bit torn when it comes to taking part in Noirvember. On the one hand, I love a good film noir and there’s quite a few obscure and underrated ones available on YouTube right now. On the other hand, as a natural-born contrarian, I don’t like the idea of hopping on any bandwagons.

In the end, my love of film noir won out. So, welcome to my first entry in 30 Days of Noir.

The 1942 film, Lady Gangster, opens with Dot Burton (Faye Emerson) walking up to a bank. She’s carrying a small white dog with her. Though the bank isn’t due to open for another 30 minutes, she explains to the bank guard that she’s got a train to catch and she simply has to deposit a check. The guard unlocks the door and lets both her and her dog inside.

While filling out her deposit slip, Dot puts the dog down on the floor. The dogs runs off, distracting the guard just long enough for three men with guns to slip into the bank and rob the place. Though the police quickly arrive, the men manage to escape, taking $400,000 with them.

The police are immediately suspicious of Dot, especially when she struggles to keep her story straight as to why she’s at the bank. The lead detective thinks that Dot was in on it. Dot says that she was merely out for a stroll with her dog. Dot says that her dog is named Tiny. The dog, which looks exactly like one that was recently reported missing, is wearing a collar that reads “Boots.”

The district attorney announces that Dot will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. However, a crusading radio broadcaster named Ken Phillips (Frank Wilcox) is convinced that Dot is being railroaded. Once he realizes that he went to high school with her, Ken is even more determined to help Dot. Using the power of the airwaves, he forces the district attorney to release Dot into his custody. Once free, Dot promptly confesses to Ken that she was a part of the robbery and that she’s hidden the money. An indignant Ken turns her into the police.

So now, Dot’s in prison and no one’s sure where the money is. One of the bank robbers even dresses up like a woman so that he can see Dot on visiting day but she refuses to tell him anything. Dot isn’t going to reveal where the money is unless it means she can also get parole. She needs to get released soon because she’s already got two psychotic snitches targeting her.

Fortunately, Ken has had a change of heart and is lobbying for her release. Unfortunately, Dot has been tricked into believing that Ken has once again betrayed her so, naturally enough, she sets him up to be murdered. When Dot discovers that she’s been fooled, can she find a way to warn Ken before it’s too late?

Believe it or not, all of this happens over the course of 62 minutes. With that many betrayals, twists, and crimes packed into that short of a running time, there’s never a dull moment in Lady Gangster. Though the film itself is full of huge plot holes and Frank Wilcox is a bit of a stiff as Ken, the film is totally worth seeing for Faye Emerson’s ferocious performance as Dot Burton. Dot is a force of nature. When the robbers try to steal her money, Dot instead steals from them. When Dot believes that Ken has betrayed her, she sets him up to be murdered with a moment of hesitation. When Dot discovers that Ken didn’t betray her, she immediately starts scheming to prevent the murder that she arranged. Even when Dot confesses to being a part of the robbery, she does it on her own terms. Nobody tells Dot what to do and, in that way, she represents the best of America. As Dot herself explains it, “I’ll play ball with anyone but Hitler.”

The film has a rather odd ending, one that makes you wonder just how forgiving people generally were back in 1942. But no matter! Lady Gangster is a quickly paced movie that’s just melodramatic enough to be enjoyable. It’s in the public domain and on YouTube. Watch it for Faye Emerson’s performance.

I’ve seen The Best Years Of Our Lives on TCM a few times. There’s a part of me that always wishes that this film was dull, in the way that many best picture winners can be when watched through modern eyes, or in any other way overrated. The Best Years Of Our Lives won the Academy Award for Best Picture of 1946 and in doing so, it defeated one of my favorite films of all time, It’s A Wonderful Life. A part of me would love to be able to say that this was one of the greatest injustices of cinematic history but, honestly, I can’t. The Best Years Of Our Lives is an excellent film, one that remains more than worthy of every award that it won.

The film deals with veterans returning home from World War II and struggling to adjust to life in peacetime. That’s a topic that’s as relevant today as it was back in 1946. If there’s anything that remains consistent about human history it’s that there is always a war being fought somewhere and the man and women who fight those wars are often forgotten and abandoned after the final shot has been fired. The returning veterans in The Best Years Of Our Lives deal with the same issues that our soldiers have to deal with today as they return from serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The Best Years Of Our Lives follows three veterans as they return home to Boone City, Ohio. As they try to adjust to civilian life, their loved ones struggle to adjust to them.

Teresa Wright and Dana Andrews

Fred Derry (played by Dana Andrews) is a self-described former soda jerk. (To be honest, I’m really not sure what a soda jerk was but it doesn’t sound like a very fun job.) During the war, he was a captain in the air force. He returns home with several decorations and few marketable skills. During the war, he was good at bombing cities but there’s not much that can be done with that skill during peacetime. Nearly penniless, Fred takes a job selling perfume at a department store. He spends his days trying to control her temper and not give into his frustration. At night, he’s haunted by nightmares of combat.

Teresa Wright and Virginia Mayo

Meanwhile, his wife, Marie (Virginia Mayo), finds herself resenting the fact that Fred has come home. She married him while he was in flight training and, as quickly becomes obvious, she’s less enamored of Fred now that he’s just another civilian with a low-paying job. (She continually begs him to wear the uniform that he can’t wait to take off.) The Best Years Of Our Lives is a film full of great performances but Virginia Mayo really stands out. I have to admit that, whenever I watch this film, I find myself envious of her ability to both snarl and smile at the same time.

Teresa Wright, Myrna Loy, Fredric March, and Michael Hall

Al Stephenson (Fredric March) was a bank loan officer who served as an infantry sergeant. (It’s interesting to note that the educated and successful Al was outranked by Fred during the war.) Al returns home to his loving wife, Milly (Myrna Loy), his daughter Peggy (the beautiful Teresa Wright), and his son, Rob (Michael Hall). At first, Al struggles to reconnect with his family and he deals with the tension by drinking too much. Rehired by the bank, he approves a risky loan to a fellow veteran. After the bank president (Ray Collins, a.k.a. Boss Jim Gettys from Citizen Kane) admonishes Al, Al gives a speech about what America owes to its returning veterans.

Meanwhile, Peggy has fallen in love with Fred. When Milly and Al remind her that Fred is (unhappily) married, Peggy announces, “I am going to break that marriage up!” It’s a wonderful line, brilliantly delivered by the great Teresa Wright.

Harold Russell

Marriage is also on the mind of Homer Parrish (Harold Russell). A former high school quarterback, Homer was planning on marrying Wilma (Cathy O’Donnell) as soon as he finished serving in the Navy. During the war, he lost both his hands and now he’s returned home with metal hooks. Homer locks himself away from the world. When he finally does talk to Wilma, it’s to show her how difficult life with him will be. Wilma doesn’t care but Homer does.

Harold Russell won an Academy Award for his performance here. Russell was not a professional actor. Instead he was a veteran and a real-life amputee. Watching his performance today, it’s obvious that Russell was not an experienced actor but the natural charm that enchanted the Academy still shines through.

Harold Russell, Dana Andrews, and Fredric March

It’s been nearly 70 years since The Best Years Of Our Lives was first released but it remains a powerfully honest and surprisingly dark film. All three of the veterans deal with very real issues and, somewhat surprisingly, the film refuses to provide any of them with the type of conventional happy ending that we tend to take for granted when it comes to movies made before 1967. As the film concludes, Fred is still struggling financially. Homer is still adjusting to life as an amputee. Al is still drinking. All three have a long road ahead of them but they’re all making progress. None of them will ever be the same as they were before the war but, at the same time, they’re all working on making new lives for themselves. They haven’t given up. They haven’t surrendered to despair and, the film suggests, that is triumph enough.

The Best Years Of Our Lives is a great film and a great best picture winner. It’s just a shame that it had to be released the same year as It’s A Wonderful Life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_TJuLRjQCM