Winchester '73.

Review #2010: Winchester '73.

Cast: 

James Stewart (Lin McAdam), Shelley Winters (Lola Manners), Dan Duryea (Johnnie "Waco Johnnie" Dean), Stephen McNally (Henry "Dutch Henry" Brown), Millard Mitchell (Frankie "High-Spade Frankie" Wilson), Charles Drake (Steve Miller), John McIntire (Joe Lamont), Will Geer (Wyatt Earp), Jay C. Flippen (Sergeant Wilkes), Rock Hudson (Young Bull), John Alexander (Jack Riker), and Steve Brodie (Wesley) Directed by Anthony Mann (#1048 - He Walked by Night and #1408 - El Cid)

Review: 

"The very idea of changing my whole thing from the sort of shy, fumbling fellow to the western was just my work. It's all hard work and dedication, to be able to make a go of it. And those were the things offered to me."

James Stewart believed that the real change added in being more of a presence in Westerns when it came to a new phase in his career was the increase of vulnerability, one that differed him from presences in the same genre such as John Wayne. It probably helps that Stewart was now in his forties and was getting back into the thick of more roles in film since his return from serving in the Army Air Forces during World War II, whether that involved It's a Wonderful Life (1946) or Call Northside 777 (1948). As such, 1950 (just as it was in 1948) saw him in numerous starring roles: this film, Broken Arrow, Harvey and The Jackpot; Stewart got to do the film with Universal in tandem with them making Harvey, by the way. Stewart worked with a wide variety of directors over his career, but he would work with Mann on eight films from 1950 to 1958, five of which were Westerns. The film was written by Borden Chase (brought in by Mann to do a re-write and best known as the co-writer of Red River) and Robert L. Richards with a story by Stuart N. Lake, and it was a script that had been bounced around a bit before it became a film, which evidently had Fritz Lang tapped to direct at one point before that went down the wayside, and it was Stewart who had picked Mann (after seeing scenes from Devil's Doorway) to direct in the first place; Mann had done a share of noirs before breaking in better with Westerns, which he did a handful in the 1950s. For the rest of the decade, Stewart would be involved in a variety of box office hits while having a fair share of time spent in the Western, which would serve him just as well in the next decade. 

It's a pretty good movie, rounding all of the bases that you could see in a routine Western while having a main character with absorbing intensity. The odyssey on just how much one gun can affect the lives of others in the West is a curious one, one told with visual acuity. It is not just some frazzled innocent looking for his gun, this is a trip of bloodshed because of the human quality of wanting something so bad they could kill for it. In a row of gunslingers of familiarity and blood, the one who knows how to adapt to the situation is the one who come out alive with the weapon in their hand, which makes for a film that likes to summarize atmosphere for effect that seems fresh that has been used as an argument for starting its own wave of Westerns. The hero is not just a symbol of something decent in the West or something, now he is just a man looking to stay safe on the frontier, by any means necessary.  You see many types of people here, trying to go with the flow of the wind that get touched by the power of the gun, whether that involves Indian traders or would-be robbers, and it makes a riveting odyssey. 

Stewart clearly prepared for the role to the best of his abilities, right down to practicing handling a weapon (obviously he did not do the trick shots in the film, but you get the idea). He proves brilliant in a role that could've simply been one of blandness with an actor less determined to show vulnerability or interest in playing it straight down the line. His odyssey matters to how we care about the layers that get revealed about why it is more than just an odyssey for a gun, which makes the final confrontation (with a lack of music) that much better. McNally makes a quality presence to counteract him as the adversary, efficient in establishing the threat without missing a beat. Winters was quoted as not particularly understanding the role she played, once being quoted as asking, "What does that tell you about the values of that picture? If I hadn't been in it, would anybody have noticed?" Granted, it is hard being the one prominent woman in a cast, but she does fine with it anyways, a weary presence of battered patience.  Mitchell and Duryea make solid supporting presences to the action on either side of the coin in the odyssey (mostly for the latter, as one always likes the adversary taking a licking). The film is generally involving for its 92 minute runtime in showing what really mattered in the West without falling right away to easy tricks or bland dialogue, instead treating one to a patient story about just what it took to survive with more than just a weapon in stock. It takes a certain impulse and certain timing to differentiate one gunslinger from another, which is captured to lean effectiveness by Mann and company here.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

No Way Out (1950).

Review #1798: No Way Out (1950).

Cast: 

Richard Widmark (Ray Biddle), Linda Darnell (Edie Johnson), Stephen McNally (Dr. Dan Wharton), Sidney Poitier (Dr. Luther Brooks), Mildred Joanne Smith (Cora Brooks), Harry Bellaver (George Biddle), Stanley Ridges (Dr. Sam Moreland), and Dots Johnson (Lefty Jones) Directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz (#750 - All About Eve and #1378 - People Will Talk)

Review:

“If the fabric of the society were different, I would scream to high heaven to play villains and to deal with different images of Negro life that would be more dimensional. But I’ll be damned if I do that at this stage of the game. Not when there is only one Negro actor working in films with any degree of consistency.”

There were film noirs that also existed within the realm of social consciousness. Boomerang! (1947) dealt with following the rule of law, Crossfire (1947) was a mystery that gradually revealed a message against antisemitism, Panic in the Streets (1950) dealt with trying to stop the plague. What we have here is a film of blind rage...specifically, racist rage, complete with a hallmark film debut for Sidney Poitier. Born in 1927, Poitier grew up in the Bahamas before moving to the United States as a teenager, where he would serve in the United States Army during World War II. Right after the war ended, he applied twice to the American Negro Theatre, where he would study acting - he broke into Broadway in 1946. He was under contract for a play when he decided to take a screentest for this film, not expecting to actually receive the part. However, director Joseph Mankiewicz saw something he liked in Poitier (who actually fibbed his age to say he was five years older than his actual age). Poitier became a star in the next two decades in his way to becoming the first major African American film star, one who became the second black actor to win an Academy Award before he shifted focus to directing in later years; Poitier passed away this year at the age of 94, and he is generally remembered as an icon who made a difference with his integrity as a filmmaker. 

The script was done by Lesser Samuels and Mankiewicz, as the former had a son-in-law doctor (Philip Yordan provided uncredited contract script work). Mankiewicz modified the story to be more of a noir with the viewpoint of Poitier rather than an observation of black medical hopefuls. Darryl F. Zanuck, the head of 20th Century Fox (the studio that released the antisemitism expose Gentlemen's Agreement three years prior), personally supervised production of the film. Of course, the original script apparently ended with a gruesome murder, but the studio did not want to leave audiences with a hopeless feeling (which honestly seems like a good decision). Seven decades later, this 106-minute film certainly pulls enough punches within an outspoken flair for useful storytelling and a message that still stings curiosity without turning into predictable mush on any count. It is the story of a man trying to dig his way out of an awful situation: trying to prove themself when a racist is breathing down their neck (complete with inciting a riot). The unshakable object meets the immovable force when the facts are not enough to stop rage, and this still seems like something that could be seen today.

You have to remember that Widmark had captivated the screen with Kiss of Death (1947), so to see him in a scuzzy role filled with venom is not too surprising. He proves startling effective as the simmering bully, one who balances the line between caricature and terror, since he serves as a reflection of people who would rather blame race rather than confronting themselves for why their lives are the way they are (in that sense, he makes the audience uncomfortable and thus does it right). Of course, Poitier can't be forgotten, even if he is billed fourth despite having the brunt of screentime. Filled with self-doubt and pride, he makes an astonishing debut here (incidentally, Widmark and Poitier became friends during production, and he would even go so far as to apologize to him after certain takes), with the enmity between the two leads being quite palpable when it comes to a match of pride. McNally is fine here, although one can see the seams of a character that could've seeped into self-righteousness. Darnell fares better in the conflict of which strife matters most to her (i.e. the scuz-ball saying things in her ear or her crappy life) that makes the climax (and its fateful last words) fairly worth it.

The supporting cast is nicely assembled, revolving from the warm presence of Smith to the tense Johnson. Additionally, this is the onscreen debut of Ossie Davis (in a brief uncredited role), and he appears with wife Ruby Dee briefly for the first time of numerous occasions where they were paired together on screen. The film was not a major success, likely owing to objections from select censor boards due to its content (what with the whole race riot and all, although I wonder if they were totally fine with all the racial epithets), with Chicago fearing it would incite riots (which as we all know is bullshit) before cuts were made regarding the riot. Of course, Mankiewicz already had another film ready to release later that year with All About Eve (1950), while this film is less well-known (incidentally, each film would have their script nominated for Academy Awards). At any rate, this is a film anybody would be proud to have been a part of, and it is definitely one worth seeing for what it manages to do for the time as a socially conscious movie with a worthwhile debut from an actor that was just getting started.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next Time: Carib Gold.

For Me and My Gal.

Review #1361: For Me and My Gal.

Cast: 
Judy Garland (Jo Hayden), Gene Kelly (Harry Palmer), George Murphy (Jimmy K. Metcalf), Martha Eggerth (Eve Minard), Ben Blue (Sid Simms), Stephen McNally (Mr. Waring), Robert Homans (New York Palace Doorman), and Lucille Norman (Lily Duncan) Directed by Busby Berkeley.

Review: 
"I don't believe in conformity to any school of dancing. I create what the drama and the music demand. While I am a hundred percent for ballet technique, I use only what I can adapt to my own use. I never let technique get in the way of mood or continuity."

A star can come from anywhere, from vaudeville, stage, or elsewhere. Gene Kelly had gone from a career ambition in teaching dance and full-time entertainer to choreographer and dancer in musical revues and Broadway in 1938, having been discovered by noted dancer and choreographer Robert Alton. By 1940, he had received his first breakthrough and lead role with stage work such as The Time of Your Life and Pal Joey. He was eventually signed by David O. Selznick for a chance to do film in Hollywood. It was the urging of numerous people, most notably Judy Garland, that led to Metro Goldwyn Mayer bringing Kelly in to star with Garland in this film, with this serving as her first adult role. The film was written by Richard Sherman, Fred F. Finklehoffe, and Sid Silvers with a story by Howard Emmett Rogers, which was inspired by the real life pursuits of Harry Palmer, a vaudeville actor of the 1910s, who indeed formed an act with Jo Hayden in 1916 and performed for a few years. The details of Palmer and his WWI service differ a bit from the film, where it was his friend who had been in medical school before serving and later dying in the War, not Hayden's brother, along with the fact that he had joined the Red Cross ambulance corps and not the YMCA. The ending to the film is different from actual events, but that was also a product of editing. The film was edited to play up sympathy for Kelly's character because test audiences had felt Murphy deserved to get the girl. As such, scenes were re-done to focus more on Kelly (including a rescue of an ambulance convoy). You may remember Berkeley from his choreography in 42nd Street (1933). He had co-directed (alongside George Amy) She Had to Say Yes that same year, with a gradual shift from choreography to directing occurring in the decade, and Gold Diggers of 1935 was his first solo directorial effort. He directed numerous films (with a few musical number sprinkled between it) until 1949 with Take Me Out to the Ball Game (after being fired from Annie Get Your Gun the following year), with the next eight films in the remaining 12 years of his career being spent in choreography.

With that in mind, one will be fairly interested in this ode to vaudeville alongside a drive to involvement in war that makes for a relatively decent 104 minute experience. Garland gets a chance to shine with songs and in charm, inspiring as ever for her prime. Kelly glides onto the screen with instant presence and no trouble at all, inspiring plenty of enthusiasm and curiosity whenever singing or doing some dancing along with having some chemistry with Garland that makes things zip through without too much tedium. Whether one knows about the cribbing of real-life events or not, the film certainly does seem a bit easy to figure for its eventual end-game, although I really do doubt that the film needed to be edited anyway because simply put, this is Gene Kelly we are talking about. I barely even remember Murphy to begin with, since he comes and goes by the time the film is halfway through. Maybe he had an earlier presence in the original, but here he just seems okay, where one might forget him in the shuffle. Eggerth (known more for her operetta work) does make a presence in her one number to shine, but she really is only there for the first half and that's it. The film is a decent one, with some of the conviction needed to make something that lasts. It has the musical and dance edge with two strong presences in Garland and Kelly to make things work out better than with lesser leads. It isn't really anything great of its era, but the fact that it was the first success for Kelly and also one for Garland makes it memorable enough to endure nonetheless.

One small update. If one is wondering about the effects of coronavirus among writing, I will state that there are only two ways I will stop posting: severe illness or death. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.