Juke Girl (1942, directed by Curtis Bernhardt)


Farm workers Steve (Ronald Reagan) and Danny (Richard Whorf) arrives in Florida, looking for work.  The whole town is controlled by the corrupt Henry Madden (Gene Lockhart) but the honest Steve would rather work for Nick (George Tobias), who treats his workers fairly.  While Steve romances Lola Mears (Ann Sheridan), who works at a “juke joint,” he also tries to organize the other workers into demanding better conditions.  When Madden frames Steve and Lola for a murder, the entire town turns against them.

This is not a bad Warner Bros. melodrama.  As with a lot of Warner Bros. films, the heroes are the poor workers who have found themselves exploited by wealthy men like Madden.  As played by Ronald Reagan, Steve is no radical firebrand.  He is just someone who wants the workers to get a fair shake and who wants to help decent bosses like Nick make a living despite the efforts of Madden to put them out of business.  As was so often the case with his movies, Reagan is an affable hero without ever actually being compelling.  Gene Lockhart is the dependably hateful villain and the cast is full of dependable character actors, including Faye Emerson, Alan Hale, Howard Da Silva, and Fuzzy Knight.

Ann Sheridan is really the main reason to Juke Girl and she’s as sexy and tough as ever.  There’s a reason why this movie was named for her character’s profession, even though its really only a minor part of the film.  Sheridan is the main attraction here and she gives a strong performance as a bad girl who is actually good underneath it all.  Her character worries that settling down with Steve will mean a lifetime of struggling to make ends meet but she sees that Steve is worth it by the end of the movie.  The town may not be worthy of either of them but Steve and Lola are meant to be together.

A Movie A Day #57: Here Comes The Navy (1934, directed by Lloyd Bacon)


here_comes_the_navy_posterLisa asked me to review an old best picture nominee for today’s movie a day so I picked Here Comes The Navy, because hardly anyone has ever heard of it and I usually like old service comedies.

Chesty O’Connor (James Cagney) is a construction worker who thinks that he is tougher than anyone in the Navy.  When Chesty gets into a fight with Chief Petty Officer Biff Martin (Pat O’Brien), Chesty enlists in the Navy just to get on his nerves.  Chesty brings his friend Droopy (Frank McHugh) with him.  With Biff determined to force him out of the service, Chesty bristles against the rules of the Navy.  But then Chesty meets and falls in love with Dorothy (Gloria Stuart), Biff’s sister.  Chesty loses his bad attitude, proves that his shipmates can depend on him, saves Biff’s life when an airship landing goes wrong, and even gets to marry Biff’s sister.

Here Comes The Navy is a typical 1930s service comedy, distinguished mostly by the wiseguy presence of James Cagney.  It is the type of movie where men have names like Chesty, Biff, and Droopy.  Warner Bros. made a hundred versions of this story and Here Comes The Navy was certainly one of them.

Here Comes The Navy was produced with the full cooperation of the U.S. Navy, so it’s not surprising that it feels like a recruiting film.  The sailors are all happy to do their bit to protect the American way of life and the commanding officers are all tough but fair.  The majority of the movie was filmed on the USS Arizona, which would be sunk seven years later during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.  Here Comes The Navy also features some scenes shot on the USS Macon, an airship that would crash a year later.

It’s hard to guess how Here Comes The Navy came to be nominated for best picture.  It’s okay but, for the most part, it’s for James Cagney completists only.

 

Lisa Reviews An Oscar Nominee: Skippy (dir by Norman Taurog)


Skippy1931

(SPOILERS BELOW!)

Oh my God, they actually killed the dog…

That was my main reaction, this morning, as I watched the 1931 film Skippy.  Skippy aired on TCM earlier this morning and I set the DVR to record it because, long ago, Skippy was nominated for best picture and, for quite some time, it has been my goal to see and review every single film ever nominated for the best picture.

And I have to admit that for the first hour or so, I wasn’t sure if I’d actually be able to get all the way through Skippy.  Skippy is very much a film of the early 30s and you never known how much you appreciate jump cuts, tracking shots, and even the occasional hand-held camera shot until you watch a movie that features none of them.  It’s definitely a different style of story telling and I sometimes found myself struggling to adjust to it.

Add to that, Skippy was a film about children and, while the film’s star, 9 year-old Jackie Cooper, was a natural before the camera, the other child actors often seemed forced.  There was a lot of overacting that, if nothing else, made me appreciate even more Jacob Tremblay’s subtle performance in Room.

There were a few things that I did appreciate about Skippy.  As I’ve stated on the site before, I love history and Skippy was definitely a time capsule.  The film follows 6 year-old Skippy (Jackie Cooper) as he leaves the safety of his upper class home and explores the poor side of the town and the film does a good job of contrasting Skippy’s sheltered home with the nearby neighborhood of Shantyown.  It’s while wandering around Shantytown that Skippy meets and befriend Sooky (Robert Coogan).  Skippy and Sooky accidentally break a windshield that belongs to the evil dogcatcher, Mr. Nubbins (Jack Rube Clifford).  Mr. Nubbins retaliates by taking away Sooky’s dog and demanding that the boys pay him 3 dollars for the dog’s freedom.  Though it’s a mighty struggle that involves many comedic schemes, the boys manage to raise the 3 dollars.  Mr. Nubbins takes the money, says that he’s going to use the money to buy a new windshield, and that he’s going to kill the dog anyway.  So, Skippy and Sooky have to raise three dollars more just to discover that Mr. Nubbins has already shot their dog.

As Sooky sobs, Skippy fights back tears and asks if they can at least have the dog’s body so they can give it a proper burial.

“It’s already been disposed of,” Mr. Nubbins snarls.

And, at this point, I was just sitting there and thinking, “What the HELL!?”  Seriously, I can only imagine what it must have been like to be a child in 1931, watching this film (which was based on a comic strip that all the kids probably read every day), laughing at jokes that were probably quite funny back then, and then suddenly being smacked in the face by Mr. Nubbins announcing that not only was the dog dead but his body had been cremated.  I can only imagine that amount of tears that were shed in those 1931 theaters!

(Making things even worse is the discovery that the town’s rules for dealing with stray dogs were written by none other than Skippy’s father.)

And as I thought more about it, it occurred to me that this is one thing that would never happen in a movie today.  You don’t kill the dog, unless you want Keanu Reeves to show up and kill you.

Sooky breaks into tears as soon as he hears that his dog has been killed.  Skippy manages to hold back until he gets home and then he breaks into sobs.  (According to Jackie Cooper, director Norman Taurog threatened to kill the dog in real life unless Cooper gave him authentic tears.)  Fortunately, all is eventually resolved by both Skippy and Sooky getting new dogs and Skippy’s dad beating up Mr. Nubbins.  Yay!

Anyway, for the most part, Skippy is one of those films that will mostly be interesting to Oscar completists for me.  However, I will always be stunned by the fact that, in the film, Mr. Nubbins actually killed that dog.