Where Real Castles Supply The Backdrop ...

Prince Of Foxes (1949) Is Costume Noir

20th Fox missed on profits from Castile From Castile for spending massively on the negative ($4.5 million), thus resolve to trim sails on a next Tyrone Power costumer and film in black-and-white as opposed to Castile's Technicolor. For noirish content here, we can be glad color went absent, as it would spoil dark mood of a distinct postwar take on Euro scheme for conquest as personified by Orson Welles' ruthless Borgia. Did he represent fascist force recently ousted in Europe? Seems so based on hunger for conquest that's frustrated by heroic Power, taking long to grow a conscience, but like lone wolves on our side, eventually does. Henry King directs at Italian location, indoors and out. There are castles, churches, baronial halls, all beautifully captured. King had worked nearby as far back as the silent Ramola, was often where exotic subject took cameras. Prince Of Foxes tells a sword story that looked toward brute reality of modern life, as had Captain From Castile, both lingering on torture and general unpleasantness. Would even blackest villainy have contemplated gouge of Ty Power's eyes before a World War fought and won? Plot and countermoves replace simpler derring-do TP engaged as Zorro, Welles a thinking nemesis to humble even Basil Rathbone misdeeds. Late 40's patronage took to increased sophistication across genre boards, Prince Of Foxes eking a profit (a bare $30K) for a negative cost held lower ($2.6 million). It's my favorite of period pieces Tyrone Power did after the war.

More UK Killings Run To Earth

Dear Murderer (1947) Plots Crime's Clever Course

Eric Portman does a murder, must frame another to clean his mess, and before long, everybody's dipped hands in blood. One of those perfect crime yarns where a dynamic open meets challenge of logical follow-through, the web closing round writers surely as it does on Portman and homicidal company. It all comes down to personal taste for unsolvable crime that convention dictates will be solved. Dialogue is smart and that sustains even where logic falters. Jack Warner investigates after dogged fashion of cases he'd sleuth on other Brit soundstages, he being realist face of law enforcement as opposed to eccentricity of Alastair Sim, who'd admittedly have been more fun had he probed Dear Murderer's case in guise of Inspector Cockrill. There is Dennis Price, pleading for life as Victim #1, and Hazel Court is fresh and well back of horror parts she'd become better known for. Dear Murderer was a while getting US-release (by Universal-International), Variety calling it "destined for the filler bracket." Trades could be rough on Brit pix, but Variety was maybe right when pointing out that a "cleverly-plotted part of the way" tended to falter afterward. There were thirty-three UK pix released here in 1948. Did a homegrown industry and public consider that an excess?

A Good One Just Released On DVD

Above and Below Are Frame Captures From Uni's DVD

Wellman's Men With Wings (1938) from Universal Vault

Men With Wings is out on DVD (from Universal's Vault series) and it's a honey. The transfer looks recent, and color is rich. This is a show that has been out of circulation for years. Last night was a first time seeing it for me. Men With Wings was very much intended as a special, 1938's "cavalcade" of aviation from Kitty Hawk to then-latest advance in flight. Who but William A. Wellman, creator of Wings, to sell so mighty a saga? That it wouldn't quite click as intended was fault of flimsy scripting, not Wellman air supremacy for a first time displayed in color. For footage of vintage planes alone, Men With Wings soars (trite phrase that, but necessary to convey GPS enthusiasm for this disc). So why doesn't MWW rank at top among Wellmans? Being about his Topic A, and a virtual revue w/ planes for chorus line, Men With Wings should have been fullest statement of WW re flight, but he'd not mention the show in his memoir, and career coverage by others is largely silent. Was Men With Wings better left buried? I'll look forward to reappraisals now that we have this rarity back in quality circulation.

Maybe I'm badly off the beam, but something here smacks of studio interfering with director intent. Fact that Wellman stayed off subject of Men With Wings in later interviewing suggests he was unhappy with concept and outcome. Had overseeing Paramount leaned too hard on the producer/director? His dual credit implies greater control, but it wasn't absolute, especially with reported two million spent on this most ambitious of Para projects for 1938. Association with Wings lent Wellman cache he'd enjoy for remainder of a career and lifetime. Had less money been poured on Men With Wings, his might have been a firmer helm, but maybe I'm attributing too much weakness of the film to (presumed) meddling others. Possibly it was Wellman that goofed by hanging his epic in wobbly frame of three-cornered romance involving Fred MacMurray, Louise Campbell, and Ray Milland. Love triangles had been fallback for this director before, would be again, but that's blame we must in fairness assign to all Classic Era makers, as how could wider audiences be drawn to mere take-off, landing of aircraft, no matter how arresting, or in this case, colorful?

As with all rivalries of the heart, one must win, the other lose. H'wood convention being what it was, conclusions are foregone along heart interest line, our patience possibly less than that of 1938 critics who aimed arrow of sarcasm at soft targets MacMurray/Campbell (him the irresponsible pilot she can't help loving) and "doglike" Milland, who'll love from afar as temples gray among the three. "Starmaker" Wellman was credited at the time for discovering Louise Campbell, who'd go from here to mostly B's, then early retirement. Could it have been her voice reminiscent of Gracie Allen's that stalled Campbell? Best of "breathless story" that is Men With Wings is recreation of key flight between the Wright Bros. and eve of a war that planes would be crucial in winning. Four months was allegedly spent just shooting the aerial stuff. It was first time for movies going aloft in Technicolor, and heady was sight of red smoke belching from wounded craft during dogfight staged by Wellman for a WWI segment, this footage strong enough for the director to borrow for stock in his twenty-years' later Lafayette Escadrille.

Never Mind Models. Some Kids Home-Built Airplanes For Real

Lately It's Garage Bands. Back Then
It Was Garage Planes.

Aviation was a national craze before and after the Lindbergh flight. People built planes in garages. I knew an old-timer who in boyhood constructed a single-seater and flew it around his neighborhood, beyond belief but for picture he had of himself and dog companion preparing to lift off. Men With Wings captures this state of mind beautifully. In a first scene, news reporter Walter Abel quits his job to design a home craft after witnessing Kitty Hawk. Kids that will grow to be MacMurray/Campbell/Milland fly first in an oversized kite, then learn science of powered flight to get their own bi-plane off the ground. Not a few youngsters then wore goggles to school, and many more enlisted for WWI (like MacMurray in Men With Wings) to get in on air action.  William Wellman, a combat flyer himself, said excitement off the ground was like a drug, particularly that of life-risk nature. He captures all through dogfight, then test piloting, portions of Men With Wings. It's happy surprise and event to have this long-lost flight make DVD-landing, fact that it's a visual beaut like happy extra in holiday viewer stockings.

More Of Bette Davis For Thanksgiving

BD Goes Drunk Driving With Oscar! --- The Star (1952)

Bette Davis passed on Come Back, Little Sheba, but did this. She'd later admit the mistake, forfeiting Sheba that is, for which Shirley Booth got the AA. The Star, however, was worthy to Davis estimate. Its story suited her, always a first consideration with this actress. She felt The Star was accurate re crash/burn of H'wood names past a prime, which Davis herself was by 1952, but not to degrading extent of her "Margaret Elliot" here. Was Margaret based on a specific fallen star? Drama looks lifted from life, Joan Crawford's according to Davis and screenwriters later. If they were having a laugh at Crawford expense, it was ill-timed. In 1952's case of Davis v. Crawford, it was decision JC, as her indie-produced Sudden Fear became the year's sleeper hit against tepid $808K in domestic rentals for The Star (foreign $368K). There ought to be a book about former contract players on their own in the 50's and which ones made right moves. Crawford may have been the desperate "star" to Davis the "actress," but decade scorecard suggests it was Joan who had sharper commercial instinct.

Happiest circumstance of The Star was not enough cash to dress stages and a backlot (producing Bert Friedlob renting what studio space he'd use), so out went cast/crew to L.A. actuals for what amounted to semi-doc of biz environ as it curdled under onslaught of TV and leisure preferred over picture-going. Davis didn't let vanity get in way of honest characterization. We anticipate What Ever Happened To Baby Jane? as faded BD trolls bleached streets in quest of a comeback that won't happen. She had to know some would look at The Star and say, Ah yes, Davis playing herself. This may the actress' best perf between All About Eve and Jane Hudson. Her Margaret Elliot has the clinger family, as did Davis, and there's arrest for drunk driving that happened lots to Gold Agers but was covered up by studios in control of law in and outside gates. There's highlight of Davis/Elliot clerking lingerie in a department store, this more a fate of actresses by the 60's than 50's, so it's at least prophetic. Still, there were instances in 1952 where customers could approach a counter and be waited on by a one-time star. Not a few silent era survivors found themselves at such impasse. Groceries were seldom free to former celebs.

Bert Friedlob was another of lone wolves chewing meat that was left on industry's husk. By '52, you had to be fast and cheap to realize indie profit. Bert had done some good ones, The Fireball and The Steel Trap, so earned trust of Davis. Timing was right for she and Friedlob to get together. Some parts of The Star were even shot in the producer's home, another plus and welcome peek of how at least one busy producer lived at the time. Compare another insider story from 1952, The Bad and The Beautiful, with The Star, the former a very "Hollywood" treatment about Hollywood, done with maximum Metro gloss, while The Star, cheap and gritty, shows more honestly a town in full flail before 3-D/Cinemascope hypo came to temporary rescue. The Star could be teaching tool for courses on the Classic Era. It sure reflects that mirror cracking. Warner Instant has The Star streaming in HD, and there's a DVD available.

BD For TG

Davis On The Downhill --- Winter Meeting (1948)

Frost had set upon Bette Davis at Warners. Her last, Deception, lost money. Then came year off for another marriage and resultant child. Interim saw WB trimming costs to combat a slump gripping theatres since record year 1946. Part of reason Deception bled red was sum spent on it, $2.8 million the neg cost. That seemed long-ago, what with belts now tightened. Winter Meeting was done for $1.9 million, still too much for the hit it wound up taking (over a million). And so Davis' cookie began crumbling, the start of her finish at Warners. Winter Meeting, despite some good ideas, performances, and drama done well in part, lacked hard edge even woman pics needed after the war. No one dies in it, let alone kills anybody else. Pistols in the purse had become standard, in fact, necessary equipment for hothouse actresses. Joan Crawford was naked without hers, and now came Davis, eclipsed by Crawford on her home lot, playing love tag with unknown James (later better known as "Jim") Davis, who'll not give BD a tumble for preferring priesthood. Hang the crepe, said WB bookkeepers --- here was where showmen could vacuum floors 'neath empty seating.

Davis later said she knew, in fact realized from start, that Winter Meeting was a clinker. Blame that on censorship, rife at the time, a grievance she took to press, a bold stroke during contract era when stars were paid as much to keep mouths shut as act. If Davis told interviewers her movie was a cop-out, why should anyone bother with Winter Meeting? Some of blame, then, might reasonably go to her. Jack L. had lost patience in any event. Davis was behaving as if her stuff was still hot at the stalls. Did he clue her to how far receipts had dropped? Based on distrust between management and talent, I wonder if BD would have believed a word JL said. One area where the company skimped was location shooting, that is none of it for Winter Meeting, a Gotham-set story where at least a second unit might have ventured there for urban color. Selznick would do as much for Portrait of Jennie, to great enhance of the finished movie, but Winter Meeting conveys neither NY or winter itself over reels of indoor talk.

A Major Plus Is Waspish John Hoyt as BD Confidante

So strapping Jim Davis, his character named "Slick" Novak, chooses reverse collar over Davis favors. What if she'd been Lana Turner or Gene Tierney? As it is, any of us might go monastic after squint at BD in free-fall toward forty (that B'day celebrated as Winter Meeting played off). On Davis, 40 looked more fiftyish, hers an engine fueled on nervous tension and cigarettes. Some of shots in Winter Meeting betray her badly, one close-up a hark-back to flattering pre-war, followed by another that looks like Storm Center or The Catered Affair arrived early. BD needed camera attention like MGM would have given her, or maybe a Joe Von Sternberg in consultant capacity as Selznick arranged for Jennifer Jones and Duel In The Sun. Still, it was Davis, and acting was what she sold, but were fans and scrapbook-keepers still aboard? Falling receipts suggested not, but this was all of Hollywood's problem, not just hers. As to skill, no one denied Davis still had it, and undiminished, but the vehicles needed to be something really special to pry patronage from suburban housing, night baseball, and soon enough television, these part of nationwide kick of a movie habit. They'd see and enjoy her in event that was All About Eve, an ensemble she couldn't claim sole credit for, as cans labeled "Bette Davis" sat increasingly on shelves. But again, that was struggle most of pics and all of her generation faced.

The end of Winter Meeting, but Bette will be back tomorrow in The Star.

Spooky Stuff In Pittsburgh

Materializing To Twist and Frankenstein Accompany For 1963

Greenbriar seeking "Starlet" Bobbi Dukes! I tried IMDB, Google, Net search beyond. Came up snake eyes. I thought at least she might have danced as background to a beach pic for Jim and Sam, but no trace (at least she'd do the Twist for this engagement). I'm beginning to doubt Bobbi was really a "starlet," but since when did that matter to attendees at a Pittsburgh spook show circa 1963? I guessed '63 for this ad and show because of "Ethreal" materialization of Liz Taylor as Cleopatra being sold hardest (re ethreal: should misspelling or use of non-existent words be forgiven in movie ads?). You had to be there to know how hot Liz was when Cleopatra came out. My neighbor's sixth grade was bused to Winston-Salem for a school day matinee, but mothers kept several of class home because Cleopatra was a "dirty" movie. One boy hid a souvenir program under his mattress. Liz wasn't nude in Cleopatra, but nearly so at times. Of course, kids who'd seen it told others who hadn't that she was (a same neighborhood problem we had with Natalie Wood and Gypsy). "Frankenstein In Person" was expected, as was Monsters Torturing Beautiful Girls. "One Dead Body" as a door prize causes me to wonder --- why not two? Screen fare was what theatre/drive-ins could get for cheap. The Screaming Skull and The Headless Ghost would be on TV within months of their play-off here. Note borrowed art from Blood Of Dracula and some or another AIP chiller besides ones that were showing. Jim Nicholson took dim view of such pilfer and in fact, threatened to sue showmen appropriating imagery from one shocker to promote another. There was, after all, truth in advertising at stake.

Fox Wants a Pre-Sold Western

Free-Lancing Gable Does The Tall Men (1955) For 20th

Clark Gable gone to 20th Fox from years at Metro, with new employers doing him a better turn in terms of pay (% participation), plus lavish showcasing. Darryl Zanuck had bought the source novel with reservations, calling it "a very third-rate book from the standpoint of publication and sales." Still, there was epic potential, DFZ aware that The Tall Men would be "a colossal undertaking ... it cannot be touched for less than $3,5000,000 and be done the way it should be done, particularly with an all-star cast." The studio chief had been considering a remake of The Iron Horse, an outstanding Fox success from the silent era, and wondered, "Would it be possible to combine these two properties and utilize the famous classic title, The Iron Horse?" Weakness inherent in The Tall Men's novel source might be tempered by the older film's residual prestige: "As you can see, I am trying in some way to tie this story up with a pre-sold title or something that will give it distinction."

What The Tall Men finally morphed to was variant on Red River, Gable a less cantankerous trail boss than John Wayne in the earlier Hawks western. There was, in fact, another Hawks behind cameras, Howard's brother William serving as co-producer (he had brought the property to Zanuck's attention), while direction was ideally vested in Raoul Walsh, duplicating some of effects achieved in years earlier The Big Trail, to wit Indian raids and wagons being lowered down cliff faces. Zanuck might have tendered a Big Trail remake if not for historic loss posted by that 1930 western, which he (and Fox bookkeepers) would have regarded as anything but a "famous classic" or "pre-sold" title. Critics expressed relief at Gable back in parts worthy of him, Metro having served weak tea in final years of the King's contract (other than notable exception Mogambo). His persona had long since achieved mythic status. Script conference notes from 7/29/54 refer to the Jane Russell character, "Nella," preferring "Ben" (CG), "because he is a man like Clark Gable."

The Tall Men needs watching on widest screens, Blu-ray preferable (from Region 2 in that format), as the story clunks a bit now and then. Do we really care if Gable and Jane Russell settle their romantic differences in the face of larger, landscape-wide issues? Thousands of cow heads in evidence, the largest herd ever rounded up for a film, it was said, and Fox dropped $3.1 million on the negative, a figure somewhat lower than Zanuck had forecast. Ad art played games with Jane Russell's embedded image, "They Don't Come Any Bigger!" a tagline set below her in full-length pose. Of course they were referring to The Tall Men, in case anyone asked ... or objected. If the picture had come out better, Fox might have tried roadshowing The Tall Men. As it was, there came $6.5 million from worldwide rentals, that not enough to put the show in profit (part of reason was large chunk due Gable), but later sale to NBC for two network runs, 10/19/63 and 9/26/64, plus syndication booty, turned red ink to black. The Region Two Blu-Ray is outstanding, and highly recommended.

Another 30's Service Hitch

Scott and Bellamy Dueling For Dee in Coast Guard (1939)

1939 may have been the greatest year for movies by some reckoning, but they sure didn't figure Coast Guard into calculations. Still, it was humble B's like this that propped stuff we now call classic, and one could surely not do without the other. CG rehashes service yarns back to Capra and Flight, Dirigible, etc., only minus bigness of these. Ralph Bellamy is Jack Holt's substitute, a credit to the uniform, but hopeless in ways of love, thus Frances Dee collapsing into arms of wolf patrolling Randolph Scott, beginning, middle, and end reliably charted from there. We're no more sophisticated at divining such formula than 30's attendance, much less so, I'd suspect, but it was easy familiarity of these that made programmers welcome on dual-bills --- after all, didn't popcorn taste always the same? Action highlights were where most effort was applied, in this case wrecks and rescues at sea utilizing model work that belied budget limitation of the rest. We're there for the "mission" and never mind who gets the girl, that being foregone conclusion to experienced moviegoers in any case. Columbia saluted each branch of US military, repeatedly through the 30's, as would all majors and what independents could afford uniforms, message implicit that we're ready for whatever comes.

Civil War Battlefields With Sound

Griffith Takes Up Talk with Abraham Lincoln (1930)

D.W. Griffith effort at talkie comeback has gotten razz from critic/historians since time it was new, but rehab comes with Blu-Ray access and wherewithal to see/hear the thing properly. It's a 96 minute stride through key moments of a known-well life, vignettes done brief so as not to dawdle over familiar ground. This is vivid instance where quality makes all the difference. I sat through UHF-PD squalor in the 70's when that was all you got of Lincoln and assumed from there it was largely a dud --- well, what wouldn't be, given that sort of squint down a coke bottle? DWG compositions are the usual great and he moves his camera besides, Abraham Lincoln even or well ahead of talkies done in that uncertain year. Abe took $576K in domestic rentals against $720K spent on the negative (don't know foreign, but it likely wasn't great for this Americana subject). Was 1930 patronage cool to US history topics? The Big Trail came out a same year to similar fate. I wonder if the Birth Of A Nation sound reissue (also '30) might actually have done better. Walter Huston looks and walks the Lincoln part; we could speculate too on what or how many details of his performance were shaped by Griffith. What a difference it might have made had this been a hit. Would there have been a new cycle of DWG epics? ... remakes of his silent classics, but now with talk? Awkward scenes in Abraham Lincoln are outnumbered by many that play splendid. I'm hopeful the pic will win new laurels now that HD has rode to Griffith's rescue.

Tracking Another Cartoon Obscurity

What Looks Like a Tire with Hubcap in The Water Is Actually
Early Go at a Raindrop By Effects Innovator Cy Young

Jingles (1931-2) Offers Early Color and Animated Effects

Another cartoon lost, then found. This one's so obscure, there's even debate as to its title. So why bother? Well, reason one might be Walt Disney's close inspect of this early 30's animated reel meant to boost the "Brewstercolor" process, limited to two essential hues and effort to simulate others (Disney kept an eagle eye on rival cartoons). But color wasn't what intrigued Walt about Jingles, or Mendelssohn's Spring Song, as it would become better known. What he went for was effects work with raindrops, blooming flowers, other captures of nature by Cy Young, a Chinese artist said to have pioneered cartoons in his native country before emigrating to the US. Young gave life to inanimate objects and made flora, fauna breathe in ways Disney liked and wanted to co-op for his own Silly Symphony group. He'd hire Young on basis of Jingles and put him to effects work on shorts, then ambitious features Snow White, Pinocchio, Fantasia ... wherever fires licked or floods came, you could be assured Cy Young was back of the magic.

I read of Young's productive, and ultimately tragic, life/career in an outstanding chapter of  just-published Walt's People: Volume 15, another from editor Didier Ghez's sterling series made up of interviews with past Disney staff. Steven Hartley wrote the piece, a beautiful job of research and insight (he has a webpage as well, devoted to WB cartoons). Here is where I learned of Jingles, and was guided yet again to newest of Thunderbean's treasure groups, Technicolor Dreams and Black-and-White Nightmares, where the short is part of a Blu-Ray line-up. It's a color print, the lone survivor as rescued by historian Steve Stanchfield from a private collection. Like previously covered Goofy Goat by Ted Eshbaugh, Jingles floated for years as black-and-white only, one of those cartoon oddities no one could quite figure origin of. The only theatre playdate I found was May 1932 at Manhattan's Little Carnegie Playhouse. Otherwise, it seemed a goner other than 16mm monochrome for later TV or sale as home movies. Jingles' inclusion on Technicolor Dreams and Black-and-White Nightmares is another reason to relish this Blu-Ray collection of rarities, and opportunity to glimpse a Disney artist at career beginning.

Long Runs and Word-Of-Mouth = A 1950 Hit

The Third Man Makes Beautiful (Zither) Music --- Part Two

Canada Playdates Are Many and Fruitful

There was a very public dust-up between Selznick and producing partner Alex Korda prior to Third Man release. Seems Alex now had second thoughts about US share he relinquished in earlier talks, and so sued to get in on grosses earned stateside. He'd even use The Third Man prints and negative as leverage, denying Selznick these as opener dates loomed. This annoyed DOS the more as he knew Korda for a slick operator and saw himself as badly used by the Brit mogul. Between court decision on some issues and settlement of others, the matter got resolved with The Third Man at last set in stone for 2/1/50 preem at the Victoria Theatre on Broadway. That date had been juggled over a past several months, in part due to the Korda flap, but also because Selznick wanted to time The Third Man release with breakout of underlying zither music he and a merchandising team knew would catch fire among Yank listeners. The till-then obscure instrument had already lit up Euro markets, Variety reporting in 11/49 "a rush on music schools in Vienna by Austrians who wanted to learn how to play the zither." Austrian zither manufacturers were meanwhile swamped with orders from abroad, the fad having canvassed much of Europe before Americans had first glimpse of The Third Man.

Selznick wanted his thriller, and its thrilling sounds, to play several weeks at pre-release engagements before turning the zither loose on radio and disc listeners. Rollout of movie, then music, would be coordinated like D-Day of linked selling. First was Victoria's open on 2/1/50, then Feb.8 for Miami and Chicago, followed by Feb.21 at Los Angeles' Fine Arts Theatre. Through the month of February, audiences would hear those wild, and some said very sexy, zither themes in theatres only. By March 1 and first "public performances" (airwaves, records, night clubs), the zither would be all a rage and send both first-time and repeat business to The Third Man. So how did timing work? Like a charm, said trades. New York and Chicago did a "spurt," said Variety, with ticket sales steeple-jumping after month-long play, a seldom known event as pics usually tailed off after initial weeks. The zither was shaping up as engine that would drive The Third Man into spring months and wider release, 400 to 600 dates skedded for April 9 and after. "The Third Man Theme, the principal tune, will be hitting its peak of popularity in April," said Variety, "just at the time the film is going into general release." By then, there would be seventeen different recordings of the theme music in stores and over the air.

Later 50's Thrillers Trade on Third Man Rep

But recording companies were balking. They'd grown impatient over Selznick dithering on a release date for The Third Man. "Film Tunes Not Worth the Coin Or Grief," said "diskers" to Variety, constant delays and schedule-shifting "an abuse of their facilities." Besides chaotic calendars, "the recent ratio of film-born hits is low and doesn't near compensate for the trouble they cause in many cases." 20th Fox had lately done a reverse on plans and demanded record distribs to get out discs for Wabash Avenue post haste, another instance where aggrieved music merchants felt juice wasn't worth (tight) squeeze. The Third Man Theme was something else, however, a for-real knockout that would take off in even greater earnest when original zither man Anton Karas made US landfall and got cafe, television, and radio dates courtesy hard-driving MCA agents in charge of his time. Karas, who'd been earning $15 per week at an Austrian bistro before director Carol Reed discovered him, became as inseparable from The Third Man and its zither as Chubby Checker would later be with the Twist. He'd spend rest of a long life dining out, and entertaining diners, with music, and an instrument, he'd immortalize.

The Third Man Becomes Available to TV Viewers in 1957

20th Fox Announces a 1956 Reissue

There were further flaps arising out of The Third Man. Largely laughed off were Communist complaints that Vienna had been defamed by onscreen depiction as "a hell of crime and corruption." Calling The Third Man "a dramatically weak gangster film ... without ethics or morals," the Red press merely goosed already lengthy lines in Vienna, patrons eager to see what fuss was about. More serious, and damaging to receipts, was Orson Welles' outburst to a French interviewer wherein he told of a German nightclub in which "the orchestra played Nazi songs and the audience stood up to give the Nazi salute." Welles claimed that he "knocked out the tooth of a German who slapped a woman when she protested the music" (Variety). Thus began the expected firestorm, and boycott of films in which Welles appeared: Prince Of Foxes, Macbeth, and of course, The Third Man. There were demonstrations that "mushroomed" in theatres, as public pressure saw cancellation of Welles pix. One German exhibitor's association went on record as being "against Orson Welles," and 20th Fox's Deutsch rep had to release a statement assuring that his company had "no contract" with the actor/director. The Third Man had played off most of its German dates by then (11/15), but residual effect was felt: at a Dusseldorf night spot, patrons tossed liquor glasses and food at the bandleader when the Third Man Theme was played.

Orson Welles Got a Lucrative Airwave Gig From Harry Lime

Trade reviews for The Third Man gave praise rare to imports: "This is probably the most internationally accepted picture ever made in Britain," said Showman's Trade Review, while Film Bulletin singled out director Carol Reed for extravagant kudos, The Third Man called "another Reed masterpiece" after examples of The Fallen Idol and Odd Man Out. Here was where Reed would be recognized as a next Hitchcock out of England, The Third Man being the best suspense package from there since AH left. New York's Victoria engagement ran nearly six months, Chicago's Selwyn keeping The Third Man ten weeks. L.A.'s Fine Arts sold the film on hard ticket at two-a-day, $1.80 tops. Variety estimated David Selznick's US distribution take at one million. He would lease The Third Man to 20th Fox for a 1956 reissue, but a weak $82K in domestic rentals (foreign $13K) wouldn't cover new prints and advertising, result a $52K loss. Better returns came from sale to television the following year, The Third Man going out with other Selznick properties among NTA's "Champagne" group, an impressive lot that also included High Noon, a major post-48 "get" for TV. Later there'd be an NTA- developed vid series based on the Harry Lime character, with Michael Rennie as star. The Third Man is available from Criterion and other labels (Region Two) on Blu-Ray, the Criterion disc including a feature-length documentary on the film.

A Thriller Hit With Zither Background

Selznick-Korda An Uneasy Producing Pair of The Third Man (1950) --- Part One

Modern Art Meets Movie Merchandising

David Selznick thought Robert Mitchum would make a better Harry Lime than Orson Welles. More I think about it, the righter he seems. Selznick was painted as philistine mogul by surviving-beyond-him Carol Reed and Grahame Greene, both making a clown of their producer associate for interviewer/audiences cued to laugh at their oft-repeated tales. Of course, without Selznick and his stars/money, there'd have been no Third Man. Selznick had become all the more nit-picking and obsessive by 1949, his finger having slipped off the pulse of public taste. DOS felt movies ought to function in ways that worked before the war. It wasn't easy for him or anyone to realize that this industry and its viewership had changed much with coming of peace.

Again to the Mitchum point: I agree with Selznick that he'd have been better. Mitchum had danger, was capable of anything, even diluting penicillin for children, Harry Lime's worst of many crimes. Perfect casting his would have been for Bob having lately been tapped by L.A. vice at a reefer party. He'd fit right into a black market ... ours, Vienna's, anybody's. Orson Welles, on the other hand, never suggests a threat to me, nor can I accept his doing such horrid things in guise of Harry Lime. And we know he won't throw Holly Martens off the Ferris wheel. Were it Mitchum, we'd be surprised if he didn't. Further recasting: what about Gregory Peck in the Joe Cotten role? Selznick presumably still had his contract, unless The Paradine Case wrapped it up, and Peck v. Mitchum would have raised stakes considerably on that wheel. Not to take anything from The Third Man, however. It's still on my all-time favorites list.

There's more lore on The Third Man than for most from the Classic Era. Several book-length studies were written, and interviews abound with many who survived to the film's placement among settled greats. Enduring myth claims Orson Welles directed his scenes, de facto helming much of The Third Man, according to some. Well, it does look and play like a Welles project. He might have done something nearly as good if someone had let him, but by 1948, OW was a "detriment" to ticket-buying, according to Selznick when he demurred on Orson-casting. Sift through the record shows Welles did not write his dialogue for the Ferris wheel, but did contribute the gag about Switzerland and the cuckoo clock. He came up also with the indigestion routine and repeated mention of pills he can no longer get to relieve it. That's aspect of the scene I remember best, mordant humor woven through otherwise tense conversation. But did Welles suffer for not having directed The Third Man, a film very much in his style and a credit that would have made him solidly bankable again? We could wonder how often he'd be approached by fans who assumed OW was creative force behind a thriller so Wellsian as The Third Man. Could OW have laughed off such misplaced accolade as would John Ford when "congratulated" for Red River, a Howard Hawks job?

Selznick made a lucrative deal on The Third Man. For loan of Joseph Cotten and (Alida) Valli, along with some financing, he'd get Western Hemisphere rights and eventually the negative. Being up-to-minute on boxoffice trends and how other company's product was doing, DOS knew The Third Man would be a challenging sell. Being Brit-made put it dangerously close to an art film, or one people wouldn't want whatever its classification. Most of what came out of England danced on gallows here, if released at all, and arties had a ceiling he'd have to get beyond to realize profit on The Third Man. So yes, Selznick made changes, replacing Carol Reed's voice opener to something more conventional in Joseph Cotten's narration. And DOS took out a reel of footage to juice up pace. A dumb idea we'd say --- who'd choose to watch the US version of The Third Man today? --- but Selznick saw urgency to make his film accessible to statesiders who'd never seen anything quite like this before. He'd pioneer use of television trailers to sell The Third Man, one-minute spots made specifically for home viewing, according to Variety (the spots ran in all 58 TV markets available at the time).

The Third Man wouldn't be a first Occupation-set thriller. That distinction may go to Berlin Express. Earlier arrival in terms of comedy was A Foreign Affair from Billy Wilder/ Paramount. A closer cousin to The Third Man, and a merchandising example Selznick may have consulted, was MGM's The Search, also realist in approach and perceived by many at the time as an art pic. The Third Man was blessed with content that could sell, sex and sudden death a most potent. Misery of bombed-out Vienna populace was secondary to these, The Third Man very Hollywood in that respect despite Reed/Greene's quest for something different. There would be multiple ad styles tendered by the pressbook ("fully three times as many ad mats as are usually furnished for the best pictures," observed Motion Picture Herald), each keyed to specific audience desire, some designed like modern art. This was a very forward-thinking campaign, one that would be imitated by others to come. Selznick was known to oversee every detail of exploitation, so may we credit him with perceptive selling that helped make The Third Man a US hit?

Go HERE for Part Two of The Third Man.