Bogart Makes A Soft Landing

Chain Lightning (1950) Flies Warners Economy

Postwar Bogart a test pilot? Seems ill-advised, or maybe armed forces needy for guinea pigs did send up hard drink/chain smokers to do the job of men thirty years younger. Did Bogie balk? He split w/Warners not long after, path littered by scripts better than Chain Lightning that he'd nix out of hand (including Trouble Along The Way and The System, latter turning out fine with pinch-hitter Frank Lovejoy). HB spent hours in mock-up aircraft against process sky, having to realize through it all that Chain Lightning would do his career no good. He'd had a string of clucks. None of Bogart's own Santana productions amounted to much, including now-lauded In A Lonely Place, a flop at the time. The African Queen came not a moment too soon to airlift Bogart from stalled vehicles like Chain Lightning.

Warners had adopted a spend-less policy from 1948. You could see cuts applied to Key Largo and ones thereafter. This hurt all of product, but was essential to keeping gates open in face of reduced theatre attendance and families barbecuing or playing outdoor sport instead of picture-going. Here is startling statistic I came across in a book by Gilbert Seldes, The Great Audience, published in 1950: "In 1948, the American people spent more money on equipment for fishing than they did at the movie box-offices, on hunting and bowling they spent a billion and a half dollars, almost equally divided, which again is more than they spent to see the movies; the once-exclusive pastimes, golf and motor-boating, were so popular that the amount spent on them roughly equaled the movies' take." Seldes argued that when viewing sports, "the spectator sees a contest," where "surprises are greater than they can possibly be in the formulas of the movies." So there is basis, neatly summed up, for friends and former classmates preferring ball play to show-going. Would Greenbriar be a hotter Web address if it concentrated on pigskin and hoop rallies? Most assuredly --- yes.

Back to Chain Lightning, or any late 40/50's output of hobbling Hollywood. Seldes talked much of folks grown out of movies by the time they turned twenty. Is that still true, even more so true? I read of average buyer for advance tickets to the recent Star Wars being fifty-years old and male. That would be nostalgia's crowd, of course, ones carried away in 1977 and wanting to visit their magic place again. Many of us like movies precisely because most are comfy like well-worn shoes. I saw Chain Lightning yesterday (a Warner Archive DVD) and wondered if anyone else in the world might be doing the same (and if so, why?). Outside of value as a time capsule, and barometer of Bogart "far from his best" (to quote capsule reviewing), where is value in Chain Lightning? To civilians and the young, probably none, but isn't that the fate of all oldies, and almost as soon as they're off a production line? Top Gun (1986) is thirty-six years "newer" than Chain Lightning, treats a same jet-age in up-to-minute terms, but like its precursor, is, in John Wayne Alamo parlance, "dead as a beaver hat" to contemporary viewership.

HB Poses for Key Art to Enhance CL Ad Campaign

Enough of chilled reality's splash. I enjoyed Chain Lightning and hope to again before achieving ultimate lift-out like Bogie in his "Buck Rogers rig" (what dialogue calls flight suits). Early jets were like science-fiction. There's a nice flashback to WWII where HB and crew sight a rocket-powered German craft entering a dogfight against allied bombers, uneasy remind that, given a few more months, the Axis might have turned tides in the air. It's here we get first whiff of Warner economies, all of combat borrowed off actuality footage and a mismatch to studio fakery. Warners spent $1.4 million on Chain Lightning's negative. It got back $1.6 in domestic rentals. Without foreign revenue (another $890K), it would have lost money. This is how serious the depressed market was. Bogart not long before was a guaranteed mop-up every time. Now they'd squeeze pennies even on his vehicles. Chain Lightning is best seen from that sympathetic viewpoint. It was simply, and for its time, about the best WB could do on behalf of contract talent (further sampling: Gary Cooper in Dallas, Flynn in Montana, Joan Crawford in The Damned Don't Cry).

Metro Mixes a Genre Cocktail

Murder Hits a Home Run in Death On The Diamond (1934)

A mystery killer offs St. Louis Cardinal players in a Metro "B" that was among inaugurals for budget policy to fill lower berths now that double features were nationwide locked in. I could watch these by reams, and what pride comes of correctly guessing the killer in his/her very first scene! Sport themes were popular in the 30's --- so were mysteries --- why not merge? An outfielder downed by rifle fire was frightful novelty at the time and still has punch today. For all of noise in the stadium, we don't hear the shot, thus chilling effect. These 71 minutes are worthwhile for glimpse of faces to rise in years ahead: Walter Brennan (selling hot dogs), Ward Bond, Kane Richmond, Joe Sawyer (Sauers here), James Ellison, others. There's absurdity in notion that a team would go on playing despite membership systematically felled by an unknown assassin, but fillers like Death On The Diamond weren't fitted to logic. A plus to proceedings is Ted Healy as a sarcastic umpire, whose played-straight mourning over one of the deaths comes out of (ahem) left field to be a most memorable bit in the show. TCM runs Death On The Diamond on occasion. It also can be had from Warner Archive.

Universal Dips Toes In Poe

Murders In The Rue Morgue is Another For 1932's Gothic Pool

Universal's Rue Morgue Carnival Set

"Based On The Immortal Classic by Edgar Allan Poe" say credits, which it isn't, but in 1932, who knew ... or cared much? You could watch and easily imagine this was pure Poe, for there was Paris setting, in the right period (mid-19th century), and with a gorilla (or more accurately, orangutan). But was ape-impersonator Charles Gemora's an orangutan suit? If so, then he was an orangutan for dozens of other features and shorts. In fact, Rue Morgue's monkey is a pair --- one real, for close-ups, the other Gemora in action or longer views. Survey of ape-suit fanciers would place his interpretation at tip-top, Gemora a best thing on screen next to Lugosi. But what of Poe in all this? Could Universal rightly claim any of it as derived from the author?

 

 

Robert Florey was put to Poe mix w/ Lugosi trimming. He was supposed to adapt and direct Frankenstein prior, was let out at eleventh hour and replaced by James Whale. Mavens argue Florey would have finished a better movie than Whale. Based on Murders In The Rue Morgue, I might agree. Good discussion on all this is had in Brian Taves' Florey bio, still available and outstanding. Taves knew Florey and got his side of events, also detailed account of Rue Morgue making. Others of the production spoke with Taves as well. To Poe as addressed by Florey, text is translated to extent of a few key scenes right from author page; readers not having been there lately might think Florey's was altogether faithful translate. I read the Poe story ahead of watching. You couldn't make it into a movie as is, at least not a visual or even coherent one, which Florey knew, but made best of. Given that circumstance, no one could have played Poe fairer.

 

 

Source story is gory, more so than films dared be, even in pre-code. Two women are killed, one choked, stuffed up a chimney, the other decapitated and thrown out a window. Poe describes it all with relish. His Murders in The Rue Morgue is recognized as pioneer of the detective story, most aspects of the form introduced here. Poe's sleuth is named Dupin. A character answers to that in Universal's film, but he's a medical student (Leon Waycoff, later Ames) who unravels the crime, but for personal reason (Sidney Fox). The Poe Dupin, a lead in three of the author's stories, is methodical in the extreme, parsing details for their own sake, and never in the thick of action, closest contact with mystery being visit to murder scenes (sometime not even that ... he'd unravel The Mystery Of Marie Roget from an armchair at home). Dupin is a chilly persona, has a companion whose function is to be corrected, and often. Dupin's not a literary figure we warm to. Poe used him in Rue Morgue, Marie Roget, and The Purloined Letter. With better luck and popular response to Dupin, Poe might have been Conan Doyle's success arrived early, for Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson were certainly measured from cloth he cut.

 

 

Just as Doyle modified Poe's concept for his Holmes, so would Florey adjust Poe for screens. The author was yet to be fully embraced by academia. His stories and poetry was read in schools, but not to degree they would be later. Poe was better in the 30's to market movies, a morbid tag hung on him that would cling like flypaper. What writer has been filmed so often as Poe? Truest of advantage was free sign attached to output, PD status a basis of immortality (would Jim and Sam have done their 60's series had there been a fee for Poe?). Robert Florey's treatment was closer to Poe than movies would go for at least a rest of that decade, if not all time. The most later ones could claim was faith to "The Spirit of Poe," which I guess you could say about any horror movie back then. Far afield as The Black Cat and The Raven would be, they were at least Poe-ish, or Poe-tic, or should that be Po-etic? Anyway, they worked, and $ might properly be ascribed to his name hovering above or below titles (some even possessory, Edgar Allan Poe's ..., as though he were still active, and with a demanding agent).

 

 

Florey was cultivated and had pioneering appreciation for film history. He'd study technique and fellow directors long before others bothered. Florey also made experimental films. He should have had one of the great careers instead of mostly B's he wound up with by the mid-30's and after (but these models of their kind, say later champions like William K. Everson, who had more access to them then than we enjoy now). Florey knowing past films meant he could borrow from the best to dress up Murders In The Rue Morgue. It is by far most Caligari-ish of Hollywood lifts from the German trend-setter. You could lower sound on Rue Morgue and just stare at it, but for missing Bela Lugosi's rich dialogue. Every scene is a visual doozy, and like any good short story, wraps in an hour. Florey told author Taves how he and cameraman Karl Freund scavenged old flats, canvas, props, to decorate their show, Rue Morgue  remarkably handsome for mere $190,099 spent to make it.

 

 

Back then, to the ape. He was Poe's creation, and maybe the author saw a next century's exploitation coming, his orangutan the point man, or monkey (man/monkey where it's Gemora), for most of selling. Girl meets gorilla had been played on Ingagi and Blonde Captive terms, both trashy but titillating. Murders In The Rue Morgue would mainstream the theme, height reached a following year with King Kong. Why mutilate your victim, as did Poe, when she could be decorously carried off to who knows what purpose? Patrons could guess ... or hope ... and that sold tickets. Ask Ingagi's makers, or 50's updating with Bride Of The Gorilla, many others. Murders In The Rue Morgue would sustain for years on gorilla/girl art, theatres still using it right up to TV surrender in 1957. There isn't HD streaming or a Blu-Ray at present, but Universal has an excellent DVD, albeit jammed onto a single disc with four other chillers. The trick is locating one that won't skip or freeze up. Lots are so stricken, as I understand from forums.

Another Lost 3-D Is Found ...

Putting On Goggles For Gog (1954)

I can't know what it was like to grow up in space-mad early 50's, being born during height of it, and years away from exposure to movies borne of the craze. Sad truth is, I missed best of fun, based on evidence of Gog and ones like it. Well, so did others, based on fact this modest show barely played 3-D in its opener year, and then did a vanish other than pallid TV sans color and square-shaped besides (the original being 1.66). 3-D Archive (see detailed account there) has rescued Gog in true-depth, and Blu-Ray result is again testament to the team behind past The Mask, Dragonfly Squadron, and 3-D Rarities. Had Bob Furmanek and Greg Kintz took quality control during 1953-54's craze, we'd have kept 3-D a lot longer, I suspect. They've not put a foot wrong on any of titles so far tackled by the Archive. I did a same close-on-the-screen sit as with Cinerama and got great effect from Gog's outreach. Many a foreground object fairly fell in my lap, at times it was like sitting smack inside a diorama.

Did star-gaze and rocket-obsess inspire youth to work harder at school-science? It might have goosed me, what with 50's dollop of other-world mags, comic books (many of these 3-D), ray guns and other gimcracks (remember "Space-O-Rains" they tied in with This Island Earth?) Gog doesn't gloss over science either. Maybe it's all hooey, as the heaven knows I couldn't fathom data spouted by Richard Egan and others of lab expertise, but it sure sounded like the McCoy tech-wise. But Gog is no lecture; on contrary, it's livelier than I would have anticipated, the pic come to rebirth on heels of faint rep after sixty years in Coventry. Had we seen Gog properly over the gulf, there'd be status-a-plenty, which this one surely merits. Looks like they sold it with emphasis on robots, wise marketing to be sure, as what 50's kid wouldn't choose mechanical men at home rather than brother/sister, or even parents. 3-D as spent gimmick by mid-'54 put Gog in rentals shade, a bare $278,388K in domestic till, plus $190K foreign. There were 7,284 bookings. Let's hope fresh thousands will book Gog for home viewing --- it's a real treat, and freshest fruit off vintage vine in many a sci-fi moon.

Those Morals, They Were A Changin'

Gotham Locations Boost Sunday In New York (1964)

Boy, did things change quick after this was made! Definition of "nice girls" and premarital limit was soon to be rewritten, and radically, with Jane Fonda to large extent at the foreground. How could Metro have reissued this with straight faces even two years later, let alone ten. Was there even a network run for such an instantly dated "sex comedy"? Fonda and Rod Taylor are caught in pajamas (could anything be more compromising?) and you'd think A-Bombs had fallen. What gives it charm is Manhattan capture of streets and people like they'll never be again. MGM does not stint on outdoor touring; you can feel exhaust from cabs that take in/let out farce-engaged cast members. The old double standard gets what amounted to a final airing. Men do (it's their nature), but nice girls mustn't, not if they expect to marry. Sunday In New York could run to hoots and jeering on campuses nationwide if anyone bothered, but who among youth knows J. Fonda, Rod Taylor, or Cliff Robertson? I was pleased by its very quaintness, and the fact Warner Instant streams Sunday in HD, lending postcard gleam to ice skating, airports (flying is a topic), and bachelor pad accoutrement (Peter Nero albums and copies of Playboy), all more vivid thanks to High-Def clarity. Why wasn't Rod Taylor a bigger star? I like watching him more than guys who ranked higher in the 60's.

A Fox Musical Gone South Of Border

Down Argentine Way (1940) Sets Technicolor To Song

Good neighbor import of South American sound was well along pre-war, playgrounds nearer the equator tendered here by Fox to outshine even Euro haunts of pleasure, latter lately haunted by waves of war that would engulf once-free and easy climes. Escapism, then, was better aimed due south, and what more inviting spots than those captured by second units equipped with three-strip Technicolor cameras? Down Argentine Way may have been a lushest yet travel folder caught in motion. Had there been anything in the 30's to rival it? Most of action is laid outdoors, and even if principals (Betty Grable, Don Ameche) stayed at the Fox ranch, doubling as Argentina, still it's no stretch to imagine them amidst the pampas. This was an era where suggestion of the real thing was nearly as good, a stagecraft to last until Cinemascope, Fox's own Frankenstein creation, made travel an imperative for foreign-set films. Wide as they were, none of those would surpass sun-lit streets captured here by a best-of-all color process still a breathtaking novelty in 1940 when Down Argentine Way was released.

Captivating background was essential to tune-fest aimed at top tier. Otherwise, they'd be just musicals to lure lines half or less as long. Down Argentine Way and ones like it drew folks who figured a best (if not only) reason for going to movies was to see places they'd not experience otherwise. View-the-world options were for these confined to photo books, lectures with slides, or stereo-viewers picked up off parlor tables when visiting relatives. Beyond that, it was the Bijou and hope that shorts might include another Fitzpatrick Traveltalk, MGM's single-reel series on people and places most of patrons would never visit. Far-away seemed nearer when a Grable or Ameche came from, or went, there. Movies had helped make the world a smaller place since before the last war, and now with another to be fought, we'd have reason, and soon urgency, to ally our hemisphere against common enemies. Down Argentine Way was early incentive to join hands with a neighbor as postcard-attractive and congenial as we considered ourselves to be.

Argentina as depicted here is leisure headquarters, days spent breeding horseflesh for big-money racing, and neon-lit nightlife where Carmen Miranda leads a never-ending conga line. This is no mere happy place, it is a rich place. We may assume, as 1940 audiences undoubtedly did, that there was never a Great Depression in Argentina. A lot probably thought Argentina would be a nice spot to sit out the coming war. Did those with resource watch Down Argentine Way and pack bags for vacation, if not a longer stay? I don't get a sense of tie-ins, no luxury plane rides shown or travel agencies boosted, as would be case with Fox's Weekend In Havana that came a year after Down Argentine Way. What helped these shows was popularity ever on the rise of Latin music, being a happy association we'd have with places till then mere names on a map. Argentina and Havana were less suggestion of backdrop than cues to a type of attraction being offered. Dance as performed south-of-borders went back to early 30's and handshake that was Flying Down To Rio and specialty numbers performed since in one after another high-profile musical. There'd be little argument over Latin rhythm besting our own.

Of 40's musicals, ones from Fox seem most rooted to the era. This may be partly reason why they've sunk off radars, even radar maintained by buffs. There was no Astaire or Gene Kelly at 20th; in fact, leading men hewed more to watching partners perform than doing so themselves. Though Don Ameche and John Payne occasionally sang, recall of them doing so retreats quick after viewing. What sticks are the specialties, Carmen Miranda in Down Argentine Way before lift to greater prominence and at times excess of her novelty, and more so, the Nicholas Brothers, whose skill looks to derive from other planets where gravity is no issue. These two won't fail to astonish even in another seventy-years, at which time watchers might wonder if CGI wasn't deployed in 1940 rather than presumed twenty-first century. All the rest in song/dance looks stock still beside them. Down Argentine Way now streams at I-Tunes in HD, good reason to take plunge in this and other Fox musicals offered there and looking a best since true Technicolor prints were still around and occasionally shown.

Two items to note in the ad at left from Columbus' Ohio Theatre (which still stands and operates downtown, and is but short walk from Cinevent headquarters at the Renaissance Hotel). Roger Garrett was Ohio house organist from 1933 to 1942. He was a Columbus institution, at least as popular as any movie the Ohio ever ran. Overtures and recital by Garrett was reason alone for many a ticket bought. The organist would return to the Ohio for a final concert (and sing-a-long) in 1969. Friday night bonus with Down Argentine Way was a football rally featuring team members from Ohio State. Tie-in with sport groups was ongoing benefit to stadium turnstiles and theatre boxoffice. Athletes would take the stage, sometimes entertain, though just being seen was enough for fans and family members. These were pep rallies pure and simple, designed to whip patronage into mood for the weekend game and boost grid squad besides. Like with Garrett at his organ, football fever often tipped ticket-buyers to Ohio's favor rather than rivals down the street, even where they were playing a better movie. Yet further case where live events were more a draw than what was on screens.

Warner Finds A Star, Then Loses Him

Van Johnson Stands Out in Murder In The Big House (1942)

Certainly a title they'd notice coming in, even if it placed second on most bills --- second, that is, until support player Van Johnson hit very big and inspired Warners to reissue and re-title this as Born To Trouble, with all new credits billing Johnson first and above selfsame title. There must have been foreheads slapped over how they let him get away, though honestly, WB had not the resource and certainly not the patience to bring Van along as MGM would. Look at how they bungled Craig Stevens, George Reeves, DeWolf (William) Hopper --- this was not a proper lab for male ingénues. Van was congenial enough, but needed further training, which he'd get via TLC from Culver City. Murder/Born is a B, directed brisk by B. Reeves Eason, "Breezy" a nickname his work lived up to. The set-up's a puzzler. A gangster set to fry is instead struck by lightning through his prison bars --- or was he? Van suspects foul play, and there's the mystery. Lucky for Warners that VJ becomes focal point after a tepid first reel w/o him; crowds lured by changed billing would call foul had his part been so minor as initial scenes suggest. There's newshound backdrop, thus much irreverence about guys getting the chair, burnt to a crisp, etc. Were scribes in life really so insensitive? A lot of fun for the 59 minutes it lasts, and TCM's print carries Born For Trouble moniker. I wonder if it even exists anymore as Murder In The Big House.

Symptomatic Of A Sinking Fox?

Shallow Biz For Deep Waters (1948)

This was director Henry King's next for 20th after Captain From Castile. He'd again go on location, this time to Maine, where waterfronts and fisher boats supplied authentic flavor, a sort of New England equivalent to streetwise semi-docs being done around a same time by Louis DeRochemont (who was originally tabbed to produce Deep Waters). King had filmed in Maine before, for 1922's The Seventh Day, so knew something of terrain. Fox promoted him as "The Father Of Locations" and put out much press about how King routinely scouted for best sites in his private plane before work began. Interest in Deep Waters derives from these natural settings. Otherwise, it was a loss both critically and financially. I watched a Fox On-Demand disc (an old transfer, per usual for them, but livable), mostly as follow-up to Captain From Castile, which in addition to King shared cast membership of Jean Peters and Caesar Romero. Otherwise, the two ventures could not differ more.

20th Fox was towed in a same hole by 1948 as the rest of a fraught industry. Even pictures made economically were bleeding red. Tightened measures had become policy after cost overruns made losers of otherwise big grossing Forever Amber and Captain From Castile. Zanuck was getting alarmist notes from Spyros Skouras with each mailbag. Skouras predicted collapse for the company unless Zanuck turned grim tide, which he darkly implied might put everyone out of work. A decision had been made to increase volume as well as reduce expense, so as "to keep studio overhead and distribution overhead in line with total picture costs and in line with worldwide film rentals." 20th would release twenty-one features in 1948, up from eighteen in 1947. There would be twenty-four in 1949. Average cost of a 1948 film was $1.870 million, according to Skouras. Deep Waters came in at $1.4 million, pretty thrifty for having been largely shot across the country.

Fox wasn't alone in its panic. Warners and Metro would do a same about-face, more releases for less money. WB reinstated a "B" program, and MGM hired Dore Schary to exert discipline he had learned at RKO. Zanuck would send memos to all staff warning them of dire consequence from waste. The movies got cheaper, and looked it. Compare any wartime-through-1947 Fox feature with those between 1948 and Cinemascope. A DFZ concern was "audiences ... outguessing the producers. They know all the answers. In most cases, they are way ahead of us, and thus most pictures seem formula and routine" (see p. 170-71 in Rudy Behlmer's Memo From Darryl F. Zanuck). Had the public simply grown tired of movies? Falling receipts suggested they had, and "volume" output from hidebound majors wasn't going to bring them back.

Close look at Deep Waters finds little to sell either then or now. It's clear New York had faint confidence in it, for look at misleading ads that totally misrepresent story and situations. Deep Waters is primarily about a wayward boy (Dean Stockwell) who wants to be a lobsterman. His would-be mentor (Dana Andrews) is opposed by social worker Jean Peters because she's afraid both will drown in pursuit of fish. That's about all Deep Waters amounts to. Bosley Crowther for the NY Times called it "basically silly" and deplored "stock Hollywood characters and the things which they do ... as standard as the parts for a sewing machine." Ads implied hot love between Andrews and Peters, a cheat soon enough revealed to viewers suckered in. Receipts were among lowest for Fox that year, $1.1 million in domestic rentals, a miserable $338K foreign, the latter expected thanks to Maine backdrop not likely to engage non-US patronage. Zanuck had warned that foreign grosses were essential to achieve break-even on any Fox release. A flop over there meant loss over here. Was it a mistake to even make Deep Waters? Zanuck, and certainly Skouras, probably thought so in hindsight.

The Crowther pan revealed a wider discontent. Critics had long since mocked Hollywood for its adherence to routine. By the late 40's, audiences were joining the chorus. Filmland's entrenched way of doing things made change difficult, and for many, impossible. In meantime, a postwar public sought sports, family barbecue pits, other suburb relaxation. Television would merely put cap on the bottle that was once record theatre attendance. Wiser heads foresaw draught even as the boom promised forever wealth. Now came draught, and ordinary entertainment like Deep Waters would no longer do. Outstanding Fox product for any late 40's year was counted by single digits, a situation to worsen into the 50's. Against such background, Deep Waters, like others as obscure, assumes a fascination, at least for me. It is well-named for reflecting deep water that Fox was struggling to stay afloat in.