Showing posts with label Joyce MacKenzie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joyce MacKenzie. Show all posts

April 2, 2020

Broken Arrow (1950).

Review #1376: Broken Arrow.

Cast: 
James Stewart (Tom Jeffords), Jeff Chandler (Cochise), Debra Paget (Sonseeahray), Basil Ruysdael (Gen. Oliver Otis Howard), Will Geer (Ben Slade, Rancher), Joyce MacKenzie (Terry, Scatfly Proprietress), Arthur Hunnicutt (Milt Duffield, Mail Superintendent), and Jay Silverheels (Geronimo) Directed by Delmer Daves.

Review: 
There have been plenty of Western directors, and one who had his own place with stars was Delmer Daves. He started his film career as a prop boy on a Western with The Covered Wagon (1923), having aspired to be a lawyer in California. Despite finishing his studies, he decided to become a screenwriter for MGM in 1929. Through various studios such as MGM and Warner Bros, he wrote numerous films such as The Petrified Forest (1936) and Love Affair (1939). Although he did not receive the kind of nominations and awards like other directors of his time, he still found time to make a 22-year career worthwhile while directing numerous stars in his films, revolving from Gary Cooper to George C. Scott in his 22-year directing career, with highlights including 3:10 to Yuma (1957), The Hanging Tree (1959), and Spencer's Mountain (1963). This film was not different when it came to stars, in terms of Stewart, who started the decade with a renewed output in films that evolved his everyman persona with a bit more ruggedness (with this being the first of his Westerns for the era), while Chandler was a relative unknown with physicality and radio (and a bit of film) experience that lifted him to stardom.

The film was adapted from Elliott Arnold's novel of the same name by Albert Maltz (who used a front name due to blacklisting), which told the story of a peace agreement between Cochise and the U.S. Army that occurred for a few years, with dramatizations of historical figures such as Jeffords and Cochise, particularly with the former in terms of a romance. However, it is the attempt to show Native Americans in a balanced manner that made it stood out from the hostile manner of other Westerns in previous years. It is dignity that encompasses the film in its portrayal of attempted peace in the face of prejudice that has its own merits now as it did then, where understanding is the real key to a just land as opposed to a whirlwind of strikes and revenge. Stewart is the fiber of the film, one with growing principles towards a future besides the status quo of war. Chandler (who would play the role again alongside Silverheels in The Battle at Apache Pass two years later) proves to be just as interesting with fiber, giving credence to a fairly balanced historical role with a sense of presence that makes him compelling to watch. Paget seems a bit too young for this particular role, since there is a considerable age difference of 25 years between her and Stewart, which ends up with a bare sense of chemistry that tangles up the climax a bit. Ruysdael and the others lend a fair hand at giving credence and differing tension to a film that yearns to tell a story beyond just fighting for a Western - which works itself out most of the time. On the whole, the film works itself for 93 minutes without too much trouble, a careful film that stands competently after eight decades with structure worth looking forward to now among the usual Westerns of its time.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

November 14, 2017

The Racket (1951).


Review #1008: The Racket.

Cast: 
Robert Mitchum (Captain Thomas McQuigg), Lizabeth Scott (Irene Hayes), Robert Ryan (Nick Scanlon), William Talman (Officer Bob Johnson), Ray Collins (District Attorney Mortimer X. Welch), Joyce MacKenzie (Mary McQuigg), Robert Hutton (Dave Ames), Virginia Huston (Lucy Johnson), and William Conrad (Detective Sergeant Turk) Directed by John Cromwell.

Review: 
When I reviewed the original 1928 version of The Racket (#901), I described it as an efficient film that ran at a fine pace that pushed the right buttons and served its purpose as a crime drama that had originally served as a stage play the previous year. In any case, it is interesting reviewing the remake that was made just two decades later, with the man who had starred as McQuigg in the original Broadway production serving as director. In any case, this is a movie that isn't much of an improvement on the original, though it is also a movie that is at best moderately satisfying to the standard of film noir crime drama that you might expect. The best thing about the movie is the scenes involving Mitchum and Ryan, such as their first scene together, when the latter ends up having to deal with his brother's involvement with a singer and an ensuing conversation about his care for him - along with dialogue about how the other will try to pull one over the other. There isn't much going for the film that you could already see in other gangster films (or even the original version), and the characters themselves aren't really all too interesting. Sure, Mitchum and Ryan pull off fine performances, and the rest of the cast are fairly decent, but they can't really elevate these characters to anything too special or compelling, although Conrad is certainly interesting to watch even when in the background. It seems to hint at something more with the corruption element, but it never really comes off as anything too revealing nor does it seem like it wants to say something more relevant than what you might expect. Oddly, though Cromwell is the only credited director, four other directors directed supplemental scenes in the film due to re-shoots ordered by Howard Hughes (owner of the studio that released the film, RKO Radio Pictures): Nicholas Ray (director of Rebel Without a Cause (#181) and Bigger Than Life (#928), Tay Garnett (director of films such as the 1946 version of The Postman Always Rings Twice), Sherman Todd (who also served as editor of the film) and Mel Ferrer (actor/director). Notable scenes that Ray directed include the beginning scene with the the Crime Commission, a police locker sequence, and other bits and pieces.

At 88 minutes, it's not exactly a slog of a film to go through, and it is a movie that is on a basic level entertaining, but it's really hard to recommend this film over other films (The Big Combo (#934), He Walked by Night (#947), or the 1928 original). On a grading scale, this would fall along a C level, but I can't blame someone for finding it useful to watch at least once. It's a mess, but it is a fine mess that shines in all sorts of directions for everyone, for better or for worse, being a pretty good example of a toss-up.

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.