IMPACT: Popkin Fresh!

As seen in THE DARK PAGES!

“Impact, the force with which two lives come together. Sometimes for good, sometimes for evil.”

Brian Donlevy in a film noir?  I’m there!  Brian Donlevy in a film noir directed by Arthur Lubin, the gent who brought us the Francis the Talking Mule movies and TV’s Mr. Ed?!  Um, oh my, look at the time, gotta go!  Normally that would have been my reaction, but you see, I actually came across United Artists’ Impact on TCM early one Saturday morning, and I was hooked.  I sincerely apologize for my skepticism, and I assure my fellow film noir/suspense film fans that you’ll be on the edge of your seat watching this twisty yet surprisingly poignant film noir.

I first saw Brian Donlevy’s movies when I was a kid, watching Nigel Kneale’s Quatermass science fiction thrillers with my older brother: The Quatermass Xperiment  (1955) and Quatermass II: Enemy From Space, a.k.a The Creeping Unknown (1957).  We of Team Bartilucci, especially my husband Vinnie, first got to know and love Donlevy in the movie versions of Nigel Kneale’s Quatermass science-fiction novels, directed in England by Val Guest. Admittedly, Donlevy’s portrayal of scholarly British scientist Dr. Bernard Quatermass goes through considerable changes, probably to attract us excitable Yanks.  Vinnie gets a kick out of these particular flicks; he feels that half the fun of Donlevy’s portrayal is that viewers half-expect Quatermass to just punch the evil aliens’ lights out, saving the world in no time! 

Impact's opening scene!  All this, and proper spelling, too!

Over the course of Donlevy’s 46-year career, the two-fisted star’s 101 films and TV appearances included the 1942 version of The Glass Key; Preston Sturges’ The Great McGinty (1940); and Beau Geste (1939), for which Donlevy earned an Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor as sadistic Sergeant Markoff.  Impact shows us a more vulnerable side of Donlevy, and I, for one, like it!  His career and colorful life could fill a blog, a book, or even a movie of its own, including Donlevy’s war record and valor in battle (14-year-old Donlevy lied about his age to join the Army). He performed in stage plays, and then acted in both silent and sound films.  His career continued to soar with such box-office hits as The Remarkable Andrew; In Old Chicago; Wake Island; I Wanted Wings; and Nightmare (which I’ve never seen, and want to. Paging TCM!  The versatile Donlevy was even a model for illustrator J.C. Leyendecker! 

You’ve heard of sister acts?  Well, Impact was a brother act!  Meet the Popkin Brothers:

1. Leo C. Popkin (1914—2011) produced D.O.A. (1950); The Well (1951); And Then There Were None (1945). In fact, the Popkin brothers actually produced two movie versions of that beloved Agatha Christie thriller, first published in the UK in 1939 under the now-decidedly un-PC title Ten Little Niggers—swiftly retitled to And Then There Were None for the 1945 movie.  It was also remade in 1965 as Ten Little Indians.  Heck, we could write a whole article about both of those movies, but we’ll save that for some other time!
2.  Harry M. Popkin (1906—1991) co-produced both D.O.A; The Second Woman (1950);  and The Thief (1952), the latter being especially memorable because its stars, including Ray Milland and Rita Gam, never say a word throughout this entire thriller!  But that, too, is an article for some another time! 

Impact seems to be one of those movies people either love or hate — at least if you were New York Times film critic Bosley Crowther.  Crowther often seemed to run hot and cold; either he loved a film with every fiber of his being, or utterly despised any film he deemed unworthy for one reason or another.   Then again, some movies have a few flaws, yet they’re nevertheless riveting and entertaining because the story and its characters just find a good home in your gut and stay there.  Well, that’s how it is with me and Impact! 

Life is a circus at Walt and Irene Williams' home,
the way she puts Walt through hoops!

The Shadow knows — not!  The tragicomedy of deadly errors begins with the unsuspecting Su Lin!

When we say Impact, we don’t mean aching molars!  Screenwriters Dorothy Reid (a.k.a. Dorothy Davenport, from the renowned Davenport acting family) and Jay Dratler (Laura; The Dark Corner), working from Dratler’s original story, have crafted a twisty tale of illicit love, greed, duplicity, misunderstandings, and murder. Our hero, Walter Williams (Donlevy) is a San Francisco executive and self-made man.  Walt sure seems to have it all: a big, thriving company, a gorgeous apartment with a posh sunken living room at the swanky Brocklebank Apartments (where Kim Novak’s Madeleine Elster lived in Vertigo) and a beautiful wife he adores, Irene (the multitalented Helen Walker from Nightmare Alley; Murder, He Says; The Big Combo; the 1945 version of Brewster’s Millions; Call Northside 777.  She's had a dramatic life, too, but that's for another blog post).  He dotes on Irene, who nicknames Walt “Softy.” Proud of his latest business coup, he describes it to Irene word for word from his recent business meeting, declaring, “Either I get what I want, or you get another boy!” Uh-oh!  All aboard for a tragicomedy of grievous errors that plunge our man into peril, starting with the Williams’ housekeeper, Su Lin Chung (the fabulous Anna May Wong, the first Chinese-American movie star, from Shanghai Express; The Thief of Bagdad; Dangerous to Know).  Poor Su Lin overheard Walt’s loud voice (this is Brian Donlevy, after all!), followed immediately by a large glass vase accidentally knocked over violently in the wrong place at the wrong time!  How was Su Lin supposed to know that Walt was simply explaining his business triumph to Irene, having the bad luck to drop the vase and the tea service?  If only they’d used paper or plastic cups!

The lovely Irene is suitable for framing—or
killing the unsuspecting Walt!

Clumsy and expensive accidents aside, Irene sure seems to have it made, with a rich, loving husband who spoils her rotten!  Alas, “rotten” is the operative word:  the ungrateful Irene has a sweetie on the sly, Jim Torrance (Tony Barrett from Born to Kill; the 1940s Dick Tracy movies; and many TV appearances, including Peter Gunn and 77 Sunset Strip).  Irene and Jim have cooked up an evil plot in which Irene stays home with an alleged toothache while her “Cousin Jim” (kissing cousins indeed!) furtively slits the tires and takes over the driving to kill Walt in a car crash, leaving the wicked lovebirds living wealthily ever after.  If you ask me, I’d say Irene’s got the nomination for Ingrate of the Year all sewn up! 

Aimless chitchat about cousins from Irene’s side of the family gradually gets Walt’s Spidey-Sense tingling a bit, with Jim’s little white lies about being in Italy during the war, and family info that “Cousin Jim” should have known.  Alas, Walt gets wise too late; as soon as they’re alone in the dark fixing that flat on that lonely highway cliff, “Cousin Jim” snaps, “This is from Irene and me, sucker!”  He klongs Walt on the head and rolls our poor unconscious-and-assumed-dead hero down the steep incline.  But oops! What’s the matter Jimbo, can’t find your keys after all that hard work?  See, you should always make sure you have your keys on you before you flee a crime scene!  Now Jim’s the “sucker”— a charbroiled sucker after he smashes into a huge high-octane gas truck!  *Tsk* *tsk,* what amateurs!  It galls me to say it, but where are Phyllis Dietrichson and Walter Neff from Double Indemnity when you need them?

"This is from Irene and me, sucker!"
(Actual dialogue from the film! Poor Walt!)

I sympathize with Walt for being shocked and heartbroken, after being set up and almost murdered, and yet it’s kind of refreshing to see Walt’s more vulnerable side.  Poor Walt; it’s not often you see a strong man like Brian Donlevy cry!  After the fatal-to-Jim truck accident, (good riddance, homicidal creep!), Walt can’t help but be shell-shocked and humiliated for a while, kinda like Dan McGinty in his hobo days.  To borrow a line from Alfred Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train, it’s kind of painful for a man to discover he’s been a chump.  Eventually, he finds himself in the town of Larkspur (it’s a real town in Idaho, filmed on location).  There, Walt meets Marsha Peters (Ella Raines of Phantom Lady; Tall in the Saddle; Hail the Conquering Hero), a pretty young war widow with cat-like green eyes and a warm personality.  Mars may not need women, but Marsha and the town of Larkspur sure need assistants for her garage in these post-war days!  Walt introduces himself as Bill Walker, and shows Marsha he’s got the right stuff, car-wise.  She hires him forthwith, and soon they're playfully calling each other “Boss.” Over time, the chip on Walt's shoulder erodes, and he and Marsha grow close, albeit in a chaste, wholesome way (hey, our Marsha’s a nice gal, not an evil lying femme fatale like Irene!).  Even Marsha’s mom (veteran actress May Marsh from Three Godfathers; Birth of a Nation; the Michael Shayne mystery Blue, White, and Perfect) accepts Walt like one of the family.  Walt still keeps newspaper clippings of his near-fatal accident and further news on the case (announced on the radio by columnist Sheilah Graham, no less!).   Can Walt be big enough to work past the agony Irene has put him through?  I’m a gentle soul, but if I were Walt, I’d sure be itching to punch Irene’s lights out!  Where’s Donlevy’s two-fisted Professor Quatermass when you need him?

Jim Torrance has monogrammed cuffs, thanks to Irene. 
Guess he’s too chicken to get tattoos!

As time passes and Walt gradually feels more like his can-do self  (though I bet Walt will never use “Softy” as a pet name again, not even to a puppy!), the tables get turned on Irene. The car crash and Walt’s apparent death was front-page news, and Lt. Quincy (no, not Jack Klugman, but Charles Coburn of The More The Merrier; The Lady Eve; Gentlemen Prefer Blondes) takes charge of the investigation. Quincy’s sleuthing uncovers the fancy monogrammed handkerchiefs and cuffs Irene had made for Jim, as well as the moving van where the injured Walt hid with his briefcase. 

Oh, how tables can turn!  Three months have passed, and Irene is charged with conspiring to kill Walt, with Jim Torrence still missing!   After all the agita Walt’s been through, he decides to simply let evil Irene take the rap; who’d blame him?  Eye for an eye, and all that!  Ah, but Walt’s conscience starts needling him, with some gentle help from Marsha.  He fesses up to his past and is ready to leave in order to keep Marsha out of it.  Instead, Marsha convinces Walt to return to San Francisco together to substantiate Walt’s account of murder and woe.  Well, they say no good deed goes unpunished:  the police confront Irene with Walt, and being a poor sport, Irene immediately accuses Walt of killing Jim, claiming that she and Walt had argued after he refused to give her a divorce, and Su Lin could back her up!  Poor Marsha is devastated at this turn of events for the man she loves, but Walt assures her he’s gained so much from her, and he wants to believe in the same values Marsha does.

"What a nightmare! I dreamed Irene & her cuz
were gonna kill me! It's real?!  Calgon, take me away!"

Luckily, in the great tradition of Phantom Lady, The Dark Corner, and other classic Women Who Save Their Man’s Bacon, Marsha and Lt. Quincy search for Su Lin on the streets of San Francisco (where are Karl Malden,  Michael Douglas, and Quinn Martin when you need them?).  Will Su Lin work up her courage and talk?  Watch and enjoy this San Francisco treat for yourself!

*Snif* thanks for finding my monogrammed hanky, Lt. Quincy.  These
hankies look ridiculous, but they're all I have to remember Walt by, along with a zillion bucks."

Adorable Marsha Peters can be our grease monkey anytime!

Walt comes to Larkspur, where
people have the guts to walk under ladders!

Even Larkspur's volunteer Fire Department  makes Walt happy!

Marsha, Su Lin, and Lt. Quincy save the day for Walt!

But I can’t go to the slammer! They won’t let me have silk sheets! 

 

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An Evening with Bill Murray about HYDE PARK ON HUDSON

As longtime TotED readers know, I rarely review current movies here, but when I heard about Focus Features’ fact-based comedy-drama Hyde Park on Hudson (HPoH), I didn't want to wait for the rest of the world to decide whether or not this film was a future classic!  On Sunday, October 14th , 2012, I was lucky enough to attend a sneak preview in my hometown, New York City, at Manhattan’s Florence Gould Hall.  The stars, Bill Murray as President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and Laura Linney as Daisy Suckley, surely need no introduction, being Oscar nominees themselves: Murray for Lost in Translation (2003), and Laura Linney for The Savages (2007), Kinsey (2004), and You Can Count on Me (2000), among their other memorable films.

In HPoH, distant cousin Daisy comes to Hyde Park in upstate New York (played by England) as a companion/assistant to Franklin. Her duties include helping to keep the extent of the 32nd President’s polio on the downlow; nobody wanted FDR to be shown as frail or helpless, especially with war looming on the horizon.  Daisy tends to her aunt, too, which delighted me, because Auntie is played by Team Bartilucci favorite Eleanor Bron (Help!, Alfie; Two For The Road; Bedazzled — the original 1960s films, not the remakes from the early 2000s)! 

Eleanor Bron as Daisy's Aunt

Daisy and Franklin have lots of interests in common, and soon literally become kissing cousins and confidants. The film’s narrative unfolds in an endearingly low-key style, almost as if these iconic historical figures could be members of your own family, albeit better dressed. I particularly liked the scenes with the Royal Couple, King George VI (played poignantly and ultimately endearingly by Samuel West) and Queen Elizabeth (Olivia Colman from Hot Fuzz; The Iron Lady).  Both George and Elizabeth are terrified of somehow screwing up this momentous occasion.  In particular, I found myself both amused and sympathetic toward the Royal Couple during the running gag about the King and the Queen not quite knowing whether to be insulted or just plain terrified when they’re faced with (gasp!) hot dogs, fearing an international incident if they do or say the wrong things.  George and Franklin even have a bit of a father-and-son aspect to their talks together. I’ll confess I’ve never seen the Oscar-winning The King’s Speech, but now that I’ve seen and enjoyed HPoH, I’d like to see both films back-to-back!  In any case, while some reviews were mixed, I found HPoH  to be witty, droll, and just plain endearing!

But you all really want to talk about Bill Murray, don’t you? Sure, we all do!  The New York Times’ Dave Itzkoff conducted the Q&A and Murray was a breezy, good-natured delight with both the interviewer and the questions from the enthusiastic audience.  Quoting from Itzkoff’s intro: “WHAT do we still want from Bill Murray?  His unpremeditated film career—in which he has parlayed performances as the happy-go-lucky heroes of 1980s-era slapstick into the existentially uncertain leading men of thoughtful comedies like Groundhog Day, Rushmore, and Lost in Translation—would seem to be sufficient. Yet we demand more from this 62-year-old actor, on whose rugged face a playful smirk and a contemplative gaze look equally at home, and he appears happy to give it to us in his life beyond the screen. Tracking his movements in the wild, as he crashes karaoke parties and kickball games, has become an online pastime; Mr. Murray himself has become the folkloric equivalent of a leprechaun or fairy godparent, popping up at unpredictable yet opportune moments.”

Murray’s amiable unpredictability has always been part of his charm.  For example, as Itzkoff got to see first-hand while visiting NYC on the film’s behalf: “… Mr. Murray gave a journalist a front-row seat to see his carefree philosophy in action. Actually, closer: After Mr. Murray’s interview with another interrogator ran overtime, I was invited to accompany him to an evening appearance at Florence Gould Hall — and onto the stage of its theater, where a private chat turned into a public spectacle for a few hundred members of the Screen Actors Guild. (Imagine accompanying Mr. Murray on a version of the famous tracking shot from “Goodfellas,” through the back rooms and bowels of an unfamiliar building until the moment you expect to part ways and take your seat in the audience, only to realize then that you’re part of the act.)  Murray apologized: “I’m sorry I went too long. I just feel badly when someone doesn’t have enough. Everyone wants to talk longer. Even I want to talk longer sometimes. And then I dig myself into holes I gotta get out of.”

Regarding feedback on his performance, Murray said, “I’m curious to see what people think of it, just ’cause it is not like an ordinary movie. I don’t know if it’s great or not. We’ll see what you get.”  Indeed, he was genuinely surprised to be offered this iconic role at all:  “I thought, ‘Can this guy be serious?’  I wouldn’t have cast myself. But this guy did, and about halfway through I went, ‘Wow, he really was right.’  Not to compare myself, but certain personality things were similar, like the way he tried to leaven things and move attention around a room, get everyone their little slice of the sun.”

Have you seen Bill Murray, baby, standing in the shadows?

Asked how he prepared for the role, Murray cited his days at the celebrated Second City comedy troupe in Chicago.  There, he’d worked with the great writer, actor, and improv master Del Close, who’d explained to him: “You wear your characters like a trench coat. It’s still you in there, but there’s like a trench coat.” Murray added, “So I figured this was like a winter trench coat, because there was just a little bit more character that comes to the party. So I did a lot more reading, a lot more studying. People ask, “Did this really happen?”  Well, if you read the diaries, it’s very clear that it happened.  The writing changes. You read this later stuff, when we’re at war, and he’s not telling his wife, he’s not telling the cabinet—they don’t know where he is. But he’s sending messages by courier to her every day. This girl was the vault. I love that expression: ‘She’s the vault.’ He could tell her anything, and it wasn’t leaving her head.”

Murray wasn’t out to sully the real-life people involved, though.  “The thing I was concerned about was: The story that we’re going to tell, is it going to be a tearing-down of an icon?  I don’t know if I want to be part of that kind of action, where you trash someone.  What was the John Travolta movie, Primary Colors?  I didn’t want to do something where you were really just napalming someone.”

Itzkoff notes the joy Murray brings out of people when they encounter him, to which Murray smiles and says, “Some are more joyous than others. I’m of the habit that if there are people waiting outside the hotel, you don’t sign those autographs there. Because that means when you come back in the middle of the night, they’re still there. It’s usually a one-time thing. That’s it; that’s your one time. You try your hardest, but you can’t always be perfect.”

As he responds to this question, Murray brings Itzkoff with him onto an elevator, guiding him through a backstage area and onto the stage, where the expectant audience applauds rapturously. Even though these plans were surely explained to me ahead of time, the effect is one of dreamlike disorientation, followed by a deep breath and a tacit decision to follow Murray’s lead.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1mHtkpkxiA

Itzkoff says:  “We were just talking about the joy you bring out of people. Do you believe it now?”

“Is this like the Oprah show?” Murray playfully replies.  “Does everyone have a gift under their seat?  You guys are pretty jazzed up.”

Murray reminisces about the first time he’d went to Wrigley Field in Chicago as a boy. “I was a big Cubs fan, and I watched all the games on TV, but when I grew up, TV was in black and white. So when I was 7 years old, I was taken to my first Cubs games, and my brother Brian said, ‘Wait, Billy,’ and he put his hands over my eyes, and he walked me up the stairs.  And then he took his hands away.”  Choking up, Murray continues, “And there was Wrigley Field, in green. There was this beautiful grass and this beautiful ivy. I’d only seen it in black and white. It was like I was a blind man made to see. It was something.”

There seems to be so much serendipity in Murray’s life that Itzkoff couldn’t help but ask whether he’s actively cultivating these moments, or just hoping that they come to him.  “Well, you have to hope that they happen to you. That’s Pandora’s box, right? She opens up the box, and all the nightmares fly out.  And slams the lid shut, like, “Oops,” and opens it one more time, and hope pops out of the box. That’s the only thing we really, surely have, is hope.  You hope that you can be alive, that things will happen to you that you’ll actually witness, that you’ll participate in, rather than life just rolling over you.  Life rolls along, and holy cats, you wake up and it’s Thursday, and what happened to Monday?  Whatever the best part of my life has been, has been as a result of that remembering.

Everyone has days where you wake up and think: “Nothing good has come to me in a little while. I’d better prime the pump’?   Well, who hasn’t woken up thinking, “God, nothing good has come to me in a while,’ right?  When I feel like I’m stuck, I do something—not like I’m Mother Teresa or anything, but there’s someone who’s forgotten-about in your life, all the time.  Someone that could use an ‘Attaboy’ or a ‘How you doin’ out there?’  It’s that sort of scene, that remembering that we die alone.  We’re born alone. We do need each other. It’s lonely to really effectively live your life, and anyone you can get help from or give help to, that’s part of your obligation.”

Even today, Murray is pleasantly surprised that the roles that he’d done years ago, if not decades ago, still endure.  “When you did the job, you thought you were just trying to amuse your friends who are all on the job. I’m just trying to make the sound guy laugh, the script supervisor.  Take a movie like Caddyshack,  I can walk on a golf course, and some guy will be screaming entire scenes at me and expecting me to do it word for word with him. It’s like: ‘Fella, I did that once.  I improvised that scene.  I don’t remember how it goes.’  But I’m charmed by it. I’m not like, ‘Hey, knock it off.’ It’s kind of cool.”

Eleanor Bron from A Little Princess,
because it's a better pic of her :-)

Murray continues to be pleasantly surprised that the lessons he learned back in Second City would pay off later in life.  “It pays off in your life when you’re in an elevator and people are uncomfortable.  You can just say, ‘That’s a beautiful scarf.’  It’s just thinking about making someone else feel comfortable.  You don’t worry about yourself, because we’re vibrating together. If I can make yours just a little bit groovier, it’ll affect me. It comes back, somehow.”

Hyde Park on Hudson is currently in limited release, and will be in wide release in January 2013!

Until then, check out these fun tidbits about the film, courtesy of Focus Features! Here's the link:

http://focusfeatures.com/hyde_park_on_hudson

The Mad Miss Manton: Swing Out, Sisters!

When RKO’s 1938 screwball comedy-mystery The Mad Miss Manton (TMMM) was shown on TCM, our genial host Robert Osborne noted that Barbara Stanwyck and Henry Fonda had made three films together, all comedies: TMMM, The Lady Eve, and You Belong to Me, the latter two released in 1941. Set in then-contemporary New York City (but actually filmed in Burbank, CA in 100-degree heat, according to John M. Miller’s TCM article!), TMMM came first. Director Leigh Jason had also worked with Stanwyck and co-star Hattie McDaniel in The Bride Walks Out (1936), before McDaniel won her Best Supporting Actress Oscar for Gone With The Wind (1939). 

Stanwyck’s part was originally meant for Katharine Hepburn, but Bringing Up Baby’s bad box office put the kibosh on that, though of course nowadays it’s hailed as a classic. Besides, things worked out fine for Hepburn, as she moved on to her Oscar-nominated performance in The Philadelphia Story (1940), among so many other triumphs. In any case, Stanwyck’s flair for comedy is just right for her role as Melsa Manton, madcap heiress extraordinaire. That’s my favorite kind of heiress, especially if she’d like to plunk a few bucks into my pocket during one of her charity scavenger hunts!

Melsa Manton has The Thin Man’s Nick and Nora Charles beat when it comes to chic yet zany sleuthing, at least when it comes to sheer numbers: she has eight gorgeous debutante girlfriends who are as loyal as they are endearingly kooky, with no-nonsense maid Hilda (McDaniel) shaking her head at these nutty rich folks. For the most part, the girls are happy to help Melsa solve murders, the occasional growled threat or thrown knife notwithstanding. Fun Fact: Melsa and her eight gal pals were no doubt playfully modeled on the northeastern women’s colleges known as “The Seven Sisters:” Barnard; Bryn Mawr; Mount Holyoke; Radcliffe; Smith; Vassar; and Wellesley. Of course, this being a Hollywood movie, another “sister” was added.  That’s Hollywood for you, always making everything bigger and bolder!

We first meet Melsa walking a gaggle of cute little dogs at the ungodly hour of 3 a.m.; is this how our pet-loving heroine makes extra spending money, or does she prefer to take her pets walkies when the neighbors are in bed, unaware Melsa’s pooches are leaving, er, souvenirs?  She notices Rex Realty signs plastered all over the house. Turns out it belongs to Sheila Lane (Leona Maricle, who’d also worked with Stanwyck in My Reputation), the wife of wealthy banker George Lane. Suddenly a car speeds past the site of the new subway. Melsa recognizes local gent Ronnie Belden (William Corson). Unlike the usual stereotype of New Yorkers who mind their own business, Melsa lets her curiosity get the best of her. Her impromptu investigation brings her to the deserted Lane house, where she finds a diamond brooch—and Lane’s bloodied body! As she flees in panic, Melsa drops the brooch. By the time Melsa gets ahold of Lieutenant Mike Brent (Team Bartilucci fave Sam Levene from The Killers; After The Thin Man; Shadow of The Thin Man; Last Embrace), the corpse has gone AWOL.

Don’t worry about the press as long as
they spell your name right!

Lt. Brent and the rest of New York’s Finest are pretty darn peeved, considering that Melsa and her friends have a reputation as merry pranksters. Too bad our heroine happens to be dressed in a Little Bo-Peep costume for an artists’ ball, which doesn’t exactly do wonders for her credibility. Granted, Melsa swears their playful pranks were only meant to draw positive attention for the good causes they work on in the name of their various charities, like running a TB clinic and other helpful, clean-cut activities. Melsa and her pals clearly mean well, but haven’t they ever heard that charity begins at home? Maybe they should stay out of trouble by making lanyards for the poor or something. To add insult to injury, not only do Lt. Brent and his men refuse to investigate, but Peter Ames (Fonda), editor of The Morning Clarion, writes a stern article about Melsa’s hijinks, resulting in much comical slapping. One lawsuit, coming right up! With their reputations on the line, Melsa and the girls become amateur sleuths.  Debutante Roll Call, sound off now! 

1. Frances Mercer as Helen Frayne, the most sensible of Melsa’s gorgeous friends. The daughter of prominent East Coast sportswriter Sid Mercer, the raven-haired beauty was a “Powers Girl” model in New York in her teens back in the 1930s (as were my dear mom and aunt. Wish I could’ve been a fly on the wall with those gals swapping stories). Mercer went on to act and sing on stage, screen, and TV, including the Broadway musicals All the Things you Are; Very Warm for May; and Something for the Boys.
2. Kay Sutton as Gloria Hamilton. This lovely brunette’s screen credits include Carefree; The Saint in New York; Vivacious Lady. Gloria gets a nice punch line when the girls find what may or may not be bodily fluids:
   Dora: “How can that be blood? It’s blue.”
   Gloria: “Maybe he shot Mrs. Astor.”
   
   

   

   Oh, Kay! 

   
   

3. Catherine O’Quinn as ditzy Dora Fenton. I’m almost certain O’Quinn is one of the blonde Goldwyn Girls in Team Bartilucci fave The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1947). Anyway, she gets some delightful lines here, especially this TMMM bit, which becomes a running gag:
   Melsa: “Helen, you search the upstairs.”
   Helen: “Oh, no, I was never much of an individualist. If the upstairs has to be searched, we’ll search it together.”
   Dora: “Why, that’s Communism!”
4. Whitney Bourne, as Pat James (Blind Alibi; Double Danger; Beauty for the Asking, with Lucille Ball)), who never saw a snack she didn’t like, even at a murder scene! I’m sure Lt. Brent is thrilled to see his crime scene ruined. Hey, Pat, you gonna finish that? Don’t your rich parents feed you at home, you poor little rich girl you?
5. Ann Evers as Lee Wilson (If I Were King; Gunga Din; Casanova Brown).
6. Linda Perry, billed here as Linda Terry. By any name, she plays Myra Frost, Melsa’s flirty friend. Ms. Perry’s credits include They Won’t Forget; The Great Garrick; and the 1937 movie adaptation of the Perry Mason film The Case of the Stuttering Bishop.
7. Vickie Lester (billed as Vicki Lester) as Kit Beverly. Vickie’s star was born in Tom, Dick, and Harry; Tall, Dark, and Handsome; The Great Plane Robbery.
8. Eleanor Hanson as Jane.  (Guess it's one of those one-word names, like Margo or Annabella.) She also appeared in the Western Flaming Frontiers and bit parts such films as The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle, and worked again with TMMM co-star Penny Singleton in Blondie Goes to College. Wonder if Singleton and Hansen ever reminisced about making TMMM?

One stiff, hold the mayo!

Before long, the lawsuit takes a back seat, along with a corpse or two, as Peter finds himself falling in love with the spirited Melsa and trying to save her from shady characters like ex-con Edward Norris (Stanley Ridges of Possessed; To Be or Not to Be; Sergeant York), a convicted murderer who’s working on the subway and just might have a score to settle. Even Blondie gets into the act—no, not songbird Debbie Harry, but the original Blondie, Penny Singleton, formerly Dorothy McNulty from After the Thin Man. She’s funny and memorable in this pre-Blondie comedy caper as Frances Gluck, who’s stuck on Norris and tries to convince the girls of his innocence, even trying to pass off the future Blondie Bumstead as an old chum, with hilarious results and a smattering of social commentary.

Kit (talking to Hilda with her mouth full): “Have you another piece of cake, Hilda?”

Hilda: “Yes, I have, but the kitchen’s closed for the night.”

Melsa: “Hilda! Miss Beverly is our guest.”

Hilda: “I didn’t ask her up!”

Helen: “Come the revolution, we’ll stop being exploited by our help.”
Melsa (giving Hilda a wry look): “In my house, the revolution is here!”

Who needs Charlie's Angels
with 8 crimefighting debs?

“Lt. Brent, the good news is we’ve found George Lane’s body. The bad news…er….”

Blondie Beats a Murder Rap!

Lt. Brent saves the day!
Who knew he was a counter spy?

Although Fonda and Stanwyck were great onscreen, Henry Fonda was less than thrilled with his role. He’d been borrowed from Walter Wanger Productions and, as Axel Madsin wrote in his biography Stanwyck, Fonda “...hated his role, hated the script's sneering repartee with his leading lady, and tried his best to ignore everybody.”  Fonda himself later admitted, "I was so mad on this picture; I resented it." Philip G. Epstein’s script from an unpublished Wilson Collison novel was clearly meant as a female star vehicle, and as Miller suggested, “Fonda probably did not appreciate the scenes in which he was beaten up by eight flighty debutantes!” But Fonda got over it, happily co-starring with Stanwyck again in two other hits, as mentioned earlier, and becoming close friends. In fact, Robert Osborne said Fonda admitted to his subsequent wives that he carried a torch for Stanwyck for the rest of his life (and why not?)!

Here's a link to our pal Dawn Sample's great Noir and Chick Flicks blog post from 2011!


http://dawnschickflicks.blogspot.com/2011/05/mad-miss-manton-1938_27.html

I knew those crazy kids would make beautiful music together!

You say you want a revolution?
Hilda's your go-to gal!