Film Noir #34

 Noir: The Crooked Way, A Cry in the Night, and Cry Vengeance

THE CROOKED WAY (1949) --- A sort of from hunger turn on the serviceman with amnesia theme used by Fox for Somewhere in the Night a few years before. John Payne had lately took a leaf from Dick Powell to effect a postwar image change from charm boy to beat-down survivor of noir travails, trouble being his Crooked Way fall-guy falls down too much, each beating coming on heels of the last. Oft-problem for noir was protags on receiving end of excess to point of frustrating (for us) punishment, reels to wait for pummeling to cease and give heroes if not a win then at least a measure of peace. Benedict Bogeaus produced The Crooked Way with usual efficiency, finishing three days ahead of schedule and under budget with assist of director Robert Florey, who knew from get-it-done pace. Bogeaus for this occasion tried something new on the selling end ... television trailers ... six different offered at $25,000 cost to the producer, him among first to use spots for the tube. Another innovation: Bogeaus had amateurs stage scenes from the movie on TV and let viewers decide who was best. Lone wolf BB was an early booster for home viewing, two characters in The Crooked Way with televisions prominent in their homes, a surprise sight for any 1949 release. Bogeaus was nothing if not the clever showman. Variety called The Crooked Way "a tense, tightly edited example of commercial picture-making," which maybe was the trade being generous to give leg-up to an independent (they called The Crooked Way a best Bogeaus pic "to date"). Off-cast Sonny Tufts was the heavy, and very good at it. He and the producer went on a seventeen-city tour to promote the show. Master lensman of noir John Alton lays blackest ink to shadows broken by sudden light shafts, a trick neatly applied to similar work at Eagle-Lion. The Crooked Way took "modest" receipts as a single (Broadway's Globe Theatre), better as support in Chicago for also darkish Alias Nick Beal. $486K was final take of domestic rentals, about average for crime thrillers United Artists handled at the time (their Gun Crazy did $409K). The Crooked Way was released on Blu-Ray by Kino.

CRY IN THE NIGHT (1956) --- Alan Ladd’s “Jaguar” company produced this for Warner release. He narrates an opening shot to establish danger and mood, to wit Natalie Wood kidnapped from a parked car at so-called “Love Loop” by Mama’s boy misfit and potential killer Raymond Burr, who’ll keep her in a shack for the rest of running time, us wondering if something dreadful will happen before rescuing dad Edmund O’Brien arrives for the showdown. Economy-made ($414K), profitable for Natalie Wood being aboard, her by 1956 the coming thing among teen temptations. Stories as here could be intense and not a little unpleasant. How Cry in the Night was sold was more warning than lure, unless you liked crazies besetting defenseless girls, Burr all too real playing unbalanced sorts (did Victor Buono observe his act and imitate it?). Burr and Natalie were said to be devoted pals, him a safe date wherever she needed one. Mother-fixated menaces were a ’56 focus, While the City Sleeps turning on the theme, plus what anthology TV offered. Natalie Wood was all over half-hour dramas, had much exposure to keep home audiences aware of her, and perhaps draw them out to see Cry in the Night. “Eighteen, nice girl, nice home --- HOW DID SHE FALL THIS FAR?” asked posters that implied sex content the picture resolutely did not have, truth in advertising not a policy Warners embraced, as witness another that year with Natalie Wood, The Burning Hills, plus to come, The Girl He Left Behind and Bombers B-52. Query to all: Are there such things as “Lover’s Lane” or “Lover’s Loop” anymore? Getting caught at such spots was bane of Montgomery Clift and Shelly Winters in A Place in the Sun, us led to think such locales are best stayed away from. Are they still, or do any even exist? Also would ask if Alan Ladd saw meaningful return from Cry in the Night. It at least gave him opportunity to give friends work (director Frank Tuttle, son-in-law Richard Anderson, other player pals Anthony Caruso, Brian Donlevy, more). Still, I wonder if Ladd yielded more off his “Alan Ladd Hardware Store” in Palm Springs than from projects like this.

CRY VENGEANCE (1954) --- To vary on a worn joke of three celebrities walking into a bar, what about Marlon Brando, James Dean, and Skip Homeier, the trio sharing a drink in late 1954. Brando has triumphed with On the Waterfront, Dean just starred in East of Eden, Homeier lately back from Alaska location of Cry Vengeance. Ages were respectively 30 (Brando), 23 (Dean), and 24 (Homeier). They discuss which is best actor of the three. Brando and Dean debate finer points of performing. Homeier feels outclassed and tends to his pretzels. There really is no punchline, unless it is Skip the odd one out and bar patrons casting vote for Marlon or Jim. Funny thing, I gravitate more to the Homeiers that tended field for lead men who never quite made it, a mule to carry necessary water. Instance of this vis a vis Homeier was Mark Stevens, lately of 20^th build-up that never got built. He began reasonably strong with The Dark Corner, had varied parts after, then was finished at Fox. No disgrace, as plenty ended in variation of such circumstance, Stevens at least a made man for being major studio anointed, his a future doing budget leads. Stevens showed initiative enough to set up independent projects as here in Cry Vengeance, directing same in addition to starring. Eager-to-break-into-better-bookings was distributor Allied Artists, a “new” company emerged from cocoon that was Monogram. Stevens had an independent’s advantage of playing whatever ruined characters he pleased, in this case a bitter ex-con with a face half-mutilated thanks to gang abuse that killed his family and saw him framed and expelled off Frisco’s police force.

Higher profile stars could but dream of a part so rich, some could even have played it given the chance, though for most with higher public profiles to protect, it may have been too chancy. Stevens rolled dice and made a wow of the job. Cry Vengeance unfortunately floated belly down on bills and critics hardly noticed. I sought trade mention, came away from haystacks with too few needles. Cannon fodder wasn’t just for battlefields, exhibition perhaps a worse hill to die upon. Expectation would not have been high, though I could wish someone had picked Cry Vengeance as some sort of sleeper. Stevens presumably shot easier on public streets because he wasn’t Brando, just as Homeier might act less self-consciously because he was not Brando or Dean. Are players more effective for less expectation riding on them? I would have been. Homeier had made initial splash a decade before on Broadway as a hateful Nazi youth adopted by an American family. Where to go from there except further villainy, Homeier always proficient at that. His Cry Vengeance albino sadist killer who wears oversize reading spectacles is really one for the books. Unfortunately, they don’t give many ribbons for being bad. Otherwise, a late-in-life Roy Barcroft might have stood at an AFI podium. Homeier was hopeless to contact in final years, not wanting ever to talk about a career he dropped from in 1982, apart from being briefly seen in a Lassie TV movie circa 2006. Having done two Star Treks, surely he was dogged by Trek’s most determined of fans. Homeier died in 2017. Mark Stevens lived to 1994 but to my knowledge gave no career interviews. Cry Vengeance is available from Olive on a very nice Blu-Ray.