The Kid from Cleveland.

Review #1857: The Kid from Cleveland.

Cast: 

George Brent (Mike Jackson), Lynn Bari (Katherine Jackson), Russ Tamblyn (Johnny Barrows), Tommy Cook (Dan "The Kid" Hudson), Ann Doran (Emily Barrows Novak), Louis Jean Heydt (Carl Novak), K. Elmo Lowe (Dave Joyce), John Beradino (Mac), with Bill Veeck, Lou Boudreau, Tris Speaker, Hank Greenberg, Larry Doby, and many more. Directed by Herbert Kline.

Review: 

Let's be honest: the baseball material is the only drawing point of curiosity. That isn't to say that detailing the history of a young role for Russ Tamblyn is a bland experience, but one really does have to strain hard to not just immediately ask about how the Cleveland Indians (now known as the Guardians) got their own feature film. Well, I'm sure the answer is simply just Republic Pictures thinking that the 1948 club, who won the World Series over the Boston Braves, would possibly draw in a few local profits, complete with select footage utilized from the Series and bit lines from the stars on that team (along with certain moments with the 1949 team, who finished 3rd). Truthfully, the only reason I picked this movie was to talk about the 75th anniversary of Larry Doby making his debut in Major League Baseball, the second African American to play in the league and first in the American League. The Camden native had played five seasons for the Newark Eagles in black baseball before Cleveland owner/club president Bill Veeck signed him to a contract. The day of July 5, 1947 was three months after the debut of Jackie Robinson, and Doby's debut was serving as a pinch-hitter that saw him strike out on four pitches (contrary to Veeck's statement at the end of this film, Joe Gordon did not strike out after Doby to save face for his teammate, as Gordon was on base when Doby struck out). The next day, in the second game of a double-header, Doby started his first game in MLB at first base at Comiskey Park in Chicago, collecting his first hit and RBI. Doby had a tough first year, but he bounced back in 1948 to bat .300, and he was the first black player to hit a home run in the World Series in Game 4. Combining his statistics from his first season in 1942 to his last in 1959, he collected 273 home runs with 1,094 runs batted in while being named an All-Star eight times; after a long wait, Doby was named to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1998, finally cementing his place as one of the best players of his era and certainly the most underrated player. 

The film was written by Herbert Kline and John Bright (a founder of the Screen Writers Guild). Born in Iowa, Kline started his career as an editor for a magazine called New Theater before moving to New York to join the Photo League. Over time, he did manage to make a couple of features alongside documentary work, such as his work involving covering political crises in Europe such as the Spanish Civil War; he once described himself as a "foreign correspondent of the screen". The Fighter (1952) and the aforementioned Cleveland film are likely his most noted features, owing to his blacklisting in the 1950s due to the House Committee on Un-American Activities. The movie went by "The Cleveland Story" and "Pride of the Indians" before finally settling on the title we know now, which is a pleasant snooze in all of the average ways possible. Did I mention that this is a movie about a troubled teenager that finds help from the baseball team? This seems like it could have been made about any random sports team, even with all of the location shots of Cleveland Stadium and bits of League Park sprinkled in (which only begs the question if someone would have gone with "The Kid from Boston" if the Braves had won the Series instead?). For me, I would rather be sitting at Cleveland Stadium watching six future Hall of Famers try to play actor (to go with more interesting baseball footage) than watching Tamblyn trying to play juvenile delinquent. This was his first credited role for the Los Angeles native, who was fifteen years old when this film came out, although it would be a couple of years before he didn't have to go by "Rusty" Tamblyn. At any rate, his performance isn't much to write home about, probably fit for a morality play or an unintentional comedy than this hodgepodge. Brent and Bari don't exactly lend a hand to help either, since neither really elevate the drama beyond first gear nor generate interest in the material that a broomstick would do. Doran and Heydt don't exactly move the needle either in parental figures to Tamblyn. One knows exactly what they are going for in 89 minutes with no real particular surprises present, no matter how they try to play the juvenile angle or the inevitable custody battle.

The reason to maybe see the movie is to see the Cleveland of yesteryear, to see a winning ball club that had star power with distinct names and faces, whether that involved player/manager Lou Boudreau, or star batter Joe Gordon, or Doby, or star pitchers Bob Feller (a Hall of Famer and also a guy who devised a sign-stealing plan with fellow legend Bob Lemon involving a telescope) and Satchel Paige (who is seen depicting his hesitation pitch for one scene). Of course, they come off pretty stiff when a camera is focused on them besides baseball, but maybe the curiosity factor about their baseball stories can forgive some of that. Bill Veeck, the revolutionary showman owner, is probably the most curious presence in the film, even if one knows they are watching a showman rather than an actor. As a whole, it is more interesting to talk around the movie known as The Kid from Cleveland than it is to actually watch it, which is not a ringing endorsement unless one is a sentimental Clevelander. Average may be better than a portion of bad movies, but it still isn't enough to recommend over other (better) baseball movies.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Christmas Eve.

Review #1777: Christmas Eve.

Cast: 

George Raft (Mario Torio), George Brent (Michael Brooks), Randolph Scott (Jonathan), Joan Blondell (Ann Nelson), Virginia Field (Claire), Dolores Moran (Jean Bradford), Ann Harding (Aunt Matilda), Reginald Denny (Phillip Hastings), Douglass Dumbrille (Dr. Bunyan), Carl Harbord (Dr. Doremus), Dennis Hoey (Williams-Butler), Clarence Kolb (Judge Alston), Molly Lamont (Harriet Rhodes), John Litel (Joe Bland, FBI Agent), Walter Sande (Mario's Hood), Joe Sawyer (Private Detective Gimlet), and Konstantin Shayne (Gustav Reichman) Directed by Edwin L. Marin (#503 - A Christmas Carol (1938) and #532 - The Death Kiss)

Review: 

When it comes to Christmas movies, one has plenty of choices. This might be one of the stranger picks to go along with, if only because there are just so many movies centered around the holiday, complete with a handful that have it in the title. But hey, how many pseudo-anthology movies exist around the holiday? Well, at least if you think about it, given the framing device. It revolves around an eccentric old millionaire (one who likes to open the window after putting bird food in the house and give money to kids that kill rats) that could get committed to the nut house if she doesn't happen to have her three (adopted and fully grown) sons show up to meet the judge on Christmas Eve. This is where Brent, Raft, and Scott all come in, with the middle of the three being the only serious one of the bunch, complete with a brief skirmish with a Nazi. Of course, the latter involves a screwball-ish plot with adoption and undercover cops, so here we are with vignettes that revolve around some sort of vice. Of course, there were a few writers responsible for this film. Laurence Stallings and Richard H. Landau adapted the film from original stories, while Stallings did the screenplay. Of course, two other writers were not given credit for help with the story in Arch Oboler and Robert Altman. This was a Benedict Bogeaus production (having decided to become a producer after having been involved in real estate, radio manufacturing, and zipper-making), and the strange thing is that the firm that helped produce the film soon foreclosed on the film for insolvency, which you generally don't hear about.

Christmas movie or not, there is a great deal of mush to get through with this movie. Technically this film is a mishmash of genres, since it makes attempts to be a comedy-drama with chuckles. Unfortunately, it is lukewarm in its effectiveness, essentially being the equivalent of a roller-coaster ride that consists of a straight path with one curving path at half-speed. It isn't terrible enough to really make fun of (or ignore) nor is it exactly good enough to really sit through more than once. Two moderately okay segments cannot make-up for the rest of its rickety shortcomings, particularly with how predictable it is. It is probably one of the only times you will have a vignette with a fight scene turn out to be the lesser of the vignettes shown. It is a shame too, because Raft clearly deserves better material than what he is given with here, which is bland and not really anyone's speed (the stuff with Shayne is almost cardboard enough to become parody when it comes to cliche Nazi villain stuff). Brent at least seems the part for offbeat hijinks, but it barely goes anywhere in terms of actual interest, with Field's attempts at pep only going so far with a mildly interested person to match. This was actually the last non-Western film with Scott in his career, and he basically does a riff on it with plenty of "aw shucks" charm with a screwy vignette (with Moran), which manages to be more curious than the rest of the other stuff (fittingly, it is the last of the three segments). You might (or might not) be surprised that Harding is packed with plenty of aging makeup (for someone who was under 50 at the time this was made). She would likely be more effective if this was on the stage (i.e. playing to the rafters without much movement from a camera), what with all the carefully planned moments of speech that plays on "doddering" but really comes off as "nice try". Denny, Kolb, and Hoey close out the supporting cast with mild chuckles. As a whole, you get exactly what you think is going to happen for a ninety-minute movie with mild-mannered vignettes: serviceable mush, one that is neither terrible nor great in any regard. It is the kind of thing that can be easily found on the Internet, but the choice is up to those who seek it, because mediocrity can only go so far. I can't quite give it a winning grade, but that is just how it goes sometimes with "okay" movies.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

It doesn't happen often that the film title matches the day...and yet here we are. At any rate, I do have one more review coming for this holiday weekend, but I want to get the greetings out of the way. Have a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

The Rains Came.

Review #1351: The Rains Came.

Cast: 
Myrna Loy (Lady Edwina Esketh), Tyrone Power (Major Rama Safti), George Brent (Tom Ransome), Brenda Joyce (Fern Simon), Nigel Bruce (Lord Albert Esketh), Maria Ouspenskaya (Maharani), Joseph Schildkraut (Mr. Bannerjee), Mary Nash (Miss MacDaid), Jane Darwell (Aunt Phoebe - Mrs. Smiley), Marjorie Rambeau (Mrs. Simon), and Henry Travers (Rev. Homer Smiley) Directed by Clarence Brown (#423 - A Woman of Affairs, #433 - Angels in the Outfield, and #484 - Plymouth Adventure)

Review: 
If you want a disaster film to go along with your romance, I guess this could fit the bill. This was a film that 20th Century Fox spent nearly half of its 100-day schedule in making rain to go along with a flood sequence (using a 50,000 gallon tank of water on a studio soundstage), with 33 million gallons of water used, with a fifth of the $2.5 million budget being spent on flood and earthquake scenes. It surely paid off for its effects crew, since E. H. Hansen and Fred Sersen ended up as the first awardees for Best Visual Effects through this film. Who better to helm the film than veteran director Clarence Brown (a versatile director of romance, dramas and period pieces) and established actors like Loy (a versatile actress known for vamp roles prior to The Thin Man in 1934), Power (a matinee idol in the latter 1930s along with the 1940s), and Brent (a leading man for romances primarily in the 1930s and 1940s) to go with it. The film was adapted to the screen by Philip Dunne and Julien Josephson from the 1937 novel of the same name by Louis Bromfield. A remake would be produced by the studio with The Rains of Ranchipur (1955), which changed the ending (so no one dies). This is a glossy but finely crafted film,  where one will be pleased at what they get on a visual level alongside the romantic quartet when it comes to generating intrigue. Loy certainly seems to be having fun with such a mischievous (at least at first mischievous) headline role, brash but immensely watchable every time she is on screen, whether that involves playful banter or helping the sick. Power comes off a bit reserved, but it works out in making calm passion. This plays itself out with Loy's death scene, where Brown had told her to try acting it out with her eyes open through holding her breath. It is a striking scene, one must say. Brent plays a decent rogue, one that fits in contrast to whoever leading lady he is playing towards, whether that means a clash with Loy or a fresh (in that this was her debut role) Joyce. Bruce (a character actor since 1922 whose most famous portrayal was of Dr. Watson starting in 1939) certainly does fine with a boorish turn, and Ouspenskaya certainly proves a charmer from time to time. The romances play out fine for its 105 minute run-time, where one can see how they'll draw themselves out but not find themselves predicting everything (for a film with a title like this, at least).  In a year with plenty of romance and spectacle on numerous fronts, The Rains Came is a decent little gem among others. It makes for a decent show with its fair passion and well-done effects to make a diverting time to go with, utilizing a workable cast and an accomplished director to get things done without too many troubles.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Ah yes, the end of the month (and the tribute to the 1930s) has come. If you are wondering, I have not forgotten about doing films from the current year as well. Those will be sprinkled into March at their own time, apart from the primary goal of March, the third phase of Tribute to the Decades with the 1940s.

42nd Street.

Review #1340: 42nd Street.

Cast: 
Warner Baxter (Julian Marsh), Bebe Daniels (Dorothy Brock), George Brent (Pat Denning), Ruby Keeler (Peggy Sawyer), Guy Kibbee (Abner Dillon), Una Merkel (Lorraine Fleming), Ginger Rogers (Ann Lowell), Ned Sparks (Barry), Dick Powell (Billy Lawler), Allen Jenkins (Mac Elroy, the stage manager), and Edward J. Nugent (Terry) Directed by Lloyd Bacon (#562 - It Happens Every Spring and #898 - Larceny, Inc)

Review: 
"Sawyer, you're going out a youngster, but you've got to come back a star!"

For the 1930s, the musical had numerous phases of development. Film had gone a long way from musical short films in the earlier half of the 1920s to The Jazz Singer (1927) to The Broadway Melody (1929) and so on, with ones even done in color. However, the craze of doing musicals had stalled quickly in 1931, owing to over-saturation in the market. Of course this small lull would not last long, it just needed some evolution. One key figure in contributing the remedy was Busby Berkeley. By the time of the 1920s, he had already been a field artillery lieutenant in World War I before becoming a dance director and choreographer on Broadway musicals such as A Connecticut Yankee, which were known for their complex choreography. His film choreography career started with Whoopee! (1930), and he would soon be known for his distinct arrangements, which were usually large and/or geometric, complete with a "parade of faces" (kind close-ups of chorus girls distinctly). Berkeley spent 1933 on several films (including his directorial debut with She Had to Say Yes), with Footlight Parade (also directed by Bacon), Gold Diggers of 1933, and this film all turning out to be major successes for Warner Bros, each of which ranking in the top ten in the box office for 1933. His career would continue for the rest of the decade, serving as both choreographer and director on several films, with his last credit being Billy Rose's Jumbo (1962). Who better to do a film like this than Lloyd Bacon, who had previous experience in musical films such as The Singing Fool (1928). The film, as you might expect, is adapted from a novel of the same name by Bradford Ropes, with the screenplay from Rian James, James Seymour, and Whitney Bolton, while Harry Warren and Al Dubin contributed the music and lyrics, respectively. This material would later turn into a hit musical for Broadway in 1980, which ran for nine years.

All of this background material goes to show what you can say about an interesting film when your curiosity is stimulated. This is an entertaining backstage musical, full of rough ambitious energy with a game ensemble cast (a mix of established actors and newcomers) and a reasonable pace at 89 minutes that finds time for some fairly charming songs and a bit of plot to go with it. Simply put, it is a prime musical for its era, lively without seeming too stagey that had plagued other musicals before. Baxter carries the ship with careful control, a man filled with desperate energy that is burning to the last flicker of a waning flame, a familiar type if you've ever seen someone trying to manage people to some form of success. Daniels does reasonably well with her role, doing a fair bit of dancing and having fair chemistry with Brent, who pulls the thin romance off just fine for what is needed. Keeler shows enough spunk for a film debut (her first film appearance had been a cameo in Show Girl in Hollywood three years prior) to make you interested in her path and see her sing her way through. Kibbee certainly works fine with bluster for the brief time one sees him speak. Merkel and Rogers deliver a chuckle or two before doing their part on the stage with singing. In any case, the real spectacle of the show is Berkeley's choreography, most notably with a tracking shot done between the legs of the dancers until it reveals Powell and an un-credited Toby Wing. Other highlights include the "Shuffle Off to Buffalo" sequence, a catchy tune that soon shows a train compartment opening up to reveal plenty more cast mates behind it while showing a shot of the orchestra and audience viewing it (or at least that's what the camera wants you to see). The black backgrounds help when showing the geometric part of the dance numbers, which are quite a treat when seeing this sleek execution work out magnificently. The film certainly tries to capture the grind of its decade when relating to hard struggle of exhausting work and commitment to a craft that one hopes comes to fruition with adulation and not crushing failure, which is made clear with its carefully crafted last scene, with a drained director quietly listening some of the patrons opinions by himself. Sure, he overcame tough odds, but all the opinions are about how he "supposedly" will take credit for the show and discovering the new star, since "some guys get all the breaks". In the end, the film is one that resonates just as well back then as it does now in its basic tenants: that one can make it with enough talent, luck and flat out hard work for the chance at some success to be proud of. It works with Depression-era crowds and it can still work with those curious at heart now.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Jezebel (1938).

Review #1022: Jezebel.

Cast: 
Bette Davis (Julie Marsden), Henry Fonda (Preston Dillard), George Brent (Buck Cantrell), Donald Crisp (Dr. Livingstone), Fay Bainter (Aunt Belle Massey), Margaret Lindsay (Amy Bradford Dillard), Richard Cromwell (Ted Dillard), Henry O'Neill (General Theopholus Bogardus), Spring Byington (Mrs. Kendrick), John Litel (Jean La Cour), Gordon Oliver (Dick Allen), and Janet Shaw (Molly Allen) Directed by William Wyler (#509 - Roman Holiday)

Review: 
Admittedly, it is hard to talk about the film without comparing it to Gone with the Wind (#569), which was released one year after this movie, which was based off the 1933 play of the same name by Owen Davis. It has been stated that Davis got the role as a sort of a consolation prize for not being awarded the role of Scarlett O'Hara, which went to Vivien Leigh. However, it should also be mentioned that the original actress intended for the role for Jezebel was Tallulah Bankhead, but she fell ill during rehearsals.

In any case, Davis won an Academy Award for Best Actress (her second and final career win) and Banter would win one for Best Supporting Actress for this movie. For the time, Davis' character must have come off as shocking (manipulating people for love and wearing red to a party), but she just comes off as spiteful and not all too compelling, even with her story arc. It should be noted that Davis does pull of a fine performance, though. I will say that her character is mildly compelling to see progress through the movie, but the ending is a bit odd with her motivations, which seems a bit tacked on. The other performances are pretty consistent, and they (along with the production values) help in making for a film that is at the very least dazzling, with Fonda being a fine standout along with Brent and Bainter. The sequence with Davis and Fonda at the ball is a particular highlight in striking tone. The black-and-white photography is fine, but this is a film that probably should've been filmed in color in order to to make the red dress that she notably wears stand out (this is coming from someone who has nothing against black-and-white, of course). The run-time of 103 minutes is fine for the romantic drama that it wants to be, with a few interesting scenes that make it worth it just enough. It doesn't hold too much of a candle to the other more famous film that followed a year later, but if you look past that and try to see the movie for its own worth, you will find it something that is probably worth a look.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.