Undertow (1949).

Review #1703: Undertow.

Cast: 

Scott Brady (Tony Reagan), John Russell (Danny Morgan), Dorothy Hart (Sally Lee), Peggy Dow (Ann McKnight), Bruce Bennett (Reckling), Gregg Martell (Frost), Robert Anderson (Stoner), Dan Ferniel (Gene), and Rock Hudson (Detective) Directed by William Castle (#369 - House on Haunted Hill (1959), #1071 - 13 Ghosts, and #1418 - The Night Walker) 

Review: 

Honestly, if you didn't know that the director was William Castle, would you bat an eye for this film? From 1943 to 1974, he made 56 films as a director, but it is strange to think that the films that you would recognize from him came in the last third of his career, one that saw him move past low budget crime affairs to low budget B-movies with sensational showmanship. But hey, the important part is that Castle was not just a director with one trick. He honed his desire of wanting to scare the pants out of audiences as a teenager to work in Broadway in a variety of jobs to a shot at Columbia Pictures before he was even 25 years old, and his first feature was The Chance of a Lifetime (released in 1943 as part of the Boston Blackie series of crime dramas). He moved to Universal Pictures with Johnny Stool Pigeon (1949). There isn't exactly a great deal of facts to talk about this feature, one where I can't explain why it is called Undertow, since that apparently sounded like a better one to market over the working titles of Frame-Up and The Big Frame (I guess framing is like a current of water?). The film was written by Arthur T. Horman (a busy writer for two decades) and Lee Loeb.

Honestly, for the brief sentences one can struggle to think about a movie that falls along the line of Castle's extensive early work, it proves to be a decent filler kind of movie. For a film noir, it works alright in generating tension in the moments that try to give off a sense of claustrophobia, one that has a selection of clichés you would see from a noir (such as the femme fatale or a race against time) that for the most part manages to not flub itself in getting to the finish line at 71 minutes while packing in a few nice shots of Chicago. Brisk is not a bad word to describe a movie, if you think about it. Granted, there are things to quibble about a movie involving a guy on the run having to prove his innocence for the murder of a kingpin where you don't even see the kingpin. It really is the kind of movie that focuses on the dry side of plotting that is exactly what you would expect from a programmer kind of movie. If you don't have that many cast members to begin with, the mystery can only go in a few directions that are more passable than clever; besides, having a small run-time means you can't have too much time spent on motivation, which affects Dow's character more so than anyone. It manages to have no terrible or great moments present, which means that the highlights really come from little sequences, such as a chase sequence with some steps or perhaps its quick climax that relies on a little confusion. Brady fares pretty well in one of his early roles in film, partaking in a slew of tough-guy roles while eventually adding on television to his line of work, which also can apply to Russell (each had a star role in a Western show in the following decade), who plays it pretty lean and fair. This was the first feature film for Dow, who had dabbled in modeling and radio before having a brief feature career; she does okay with a quiet part, one that can't be too contrived in innocence without seeming completely out of touch with the attempts at thrills and chemistry with Brady that pales when thinking of the allure generated in parts by Hart. Having Bennett's character be the way he is in the script is a bit of a stretch (an old buddy detective), but he at least makes it seem passable to what is needed in dry company. As a whole, one will either find comfort in its accomplishments of making a decent thriller with no frills or find it just a bit off their tastes. But one cant deny that Castle was the kind of director capable enough to try and make something out of nothing, and I suppose that makes it more than enough for the curious. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Harvey.

Review #1607: Harvey.

Cast: 

James Stewart (Elwood P. Dowd), Josephine Hull (Veta Louise Dowd Simmons), Peggy Dow (Miss Kelly), Charles Drake (Dr. Lyman Sanderson), Victoria Horne (Myrtle Mae Simmons), Jesse White (Marvin Wilson), Cecil Kellaway (Dr. William Chumley), William H. Lynn (Judge Omar Gaffney), Dick Wessel (Bartender Mr. Cracker), Nana Bryant (Mrs. Hazel Chumley), Grayce Mills (Aunt Ethel Chauvenet), and Clem Bevans (Herman Shimmelplatzer) Directed by Henry Koster.

Review: 

"I must say it was a complete, one hundred percent pleasure, the whole picture. I had the most wonderful performers. The spirit of Harvey, that splendid and helpful ghost, was always with us while we did it."

What does one expect from a movie involving an eccentric lead that has a six-foot (and 3 1/2 inches) invisible rabbit for a best friend? Plenty, if you can believe it from a film celebrating its 70th anniversary. I'm sure at least one of my readers has had an imaginary friend that lurked in their lives, and I remember having one to talk my thoughts with out loud (it didn't have a name, however). Harvey first began as a play of the same name, written in 1944 by Mary Chase. She was awarded a Pulitzer Prize for Drama the following year for the play. Its original production ran for five years on Broadway, which originally featured Frank Fay as the lead with Josephine Hull in the secondary role. There were various actors that would take over the role during that run, which included actors such as Joe E. Brown and James Stewart. He managed to snag the role in a deal with Universal-International that meant he would be cast if he agreed to be the star of Winchester '73 (1950), which arguably played a great role in his second phase of stardom. Stewart would play the role again on the stage numerous times, including a revival on Broadway and a run on the West End as well as a TV adaptation in 1972 (done between two other TV adaptations, which had Art Carney and Harry Anderson as leads, respectively). He would note this as one of his favorite roles, reflected as such by him in a special introduction he did for the release of the film onto video in 1990. If you can believe it, Chase wanted the film to show the rabbit at the end, as if to show that the lead was not in fact just a drunk - the studio decided to not do so, instead going with for the final shot of the movie a credit for the title character that shows a door quietly being opened as "as himself" title appears (besides, he technically makes an appearance - in a painting with him and Stewart). This was a film in the middle of the lengthy career of Henry Koster, who grew up interested in cinema from a young age growing up in Berlin, Germany. He grew up to become a screenwriter for German films before moving into directing with Thea Roland (1932) before leaving for Austria and later the United States before World War II started. Koster would direct numerous films in three decades of work (for a variety of studios, most notably with Universal Pictures), directing a variety of genres such as musicals and comedies (including discovering Abbott and Costello that led to them being hired for films) - simply put, it is long overdue to look upon his career.

Chase and Oscar Brodney wrote the screenplay, while Myles Connolly did uncredited contribution as well. So how goes the film with plenty of calm whimsy? Oh, it's a fine one, one that honors its stage roots to make a well-mannered adaptation into film. With Stewart at the helm, he makes the experience all the more useful in quiet endearing charm, which one can expect from a number of his performances in a lengthy career, but this one fits right at home with what is needed here, because he doesn't make it out to seem like one is waiting for a joke to arise, as he is instead a bit stooped over with kindness (since the shots make it look like there really is someone near him to begin with). It may not be a great film, but it is nice to see that no one has tried to remake it into a theatrical effort since this one. While this was only the fourth of five film roles for Hull, don't let that fool you into seeing the talent within, because she was a stage actress for fifty years, going from stock to chorus girl to eventual star. She makes a worthy mild tempered foil to go with Stewart, one that has the interesting act of having to believe and not believe in the title character at the same time. In other words, this is a fine film where either Stewart or Hull can be thought of as easy to go along with. Others do fine in keeping up, such as a fair duo with Dow and Drake in clinical straight folks, alongside quirks such as White and Kellaway in interaction spent with Stewart and/or Harvey.  It balances its main quirk with reasonable pace at 104 minutes and a few interesting performances to go alongside Stewart that delivers some chuckles that keeps its main focus from devolving into farce with simple wisdom in one key thing: normal humans may be stinkers, but that doesn't mean one that happens to believe in a friendly spirit like Harvey is dangerous to you or me. Basically, you could shorten it to "be yourself", but without the eye-roll that comes at times to folks because of the struggle that comes to wrestle with reality in offbeat ways. In any case, one's enjoyment of the film is all up to your imagination, which goes with the amusement of errors that happen throughout its runtime. What we have is a light-hearted winner in bending the usual expectations seen in comedy-dramas, one with no need for an adversary or a romance to carry itself along, instead relying itself on the folksy charm of Stewart and a pooka to carry your imagination anywhere it wants to go. Sometimes, that is more than enough for a fine time, whether for 1950 or 2020.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.