Showing posts with label John Garfield. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Garfield. Show all posts

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Dangerously They Live - Garfield and Fiends

This post is part of the John Garfield Blogathon, hosted by Patti of They Don’t Make ’Em Like They Used To, running from March 1st through March 4th, 2013. Enjoy!

In 1941, John Garfield’s often-turbulent life was in transition—and this was before World War 2 sent the whole world reeling!  Having achieved stage stardom in New York City’s Group Theatre with his performance in Awake and Sing, then moving on to bigger Broadway success as the title character in Clifford Odets’ Golden Boy, and then becoming a movie star with the Lane Sisters in Four Daughters in 1938, Garfield was on a roll—until William Holden got the the Golden Boy role in the 1939 movie version that our man Garfield had created on the Great White Way!  Warner Bros. stepped in with the sweet consolation prize of a long-term contract.  But according to Richard Harland Smith at TCM's Web site, Garfield wasn’t really feeling it with his next projects, such as The Sea Wolf, in which Garfield was billed below co-stars Edward G. Robinson and Ida Lupino.  So Garfield kicked his agents at Lyon & Lyon to the curb, joining forces with super-agent Lew Wassermann and business manager Bob Roberts to help Garfield set up his own production company.

Smiling Jane Graystone, visiting the U.S. for the first time, looks forward to a vacation chock full of baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and Chevrolets….
…until Eddie Mars turns up! Didn’t that bounder
learn his lesson in The Big Sleep?!
Smith makes an excellent case that Garfield was eventually drawn to Dangerously They Live (DTL) (1941) because the script by writer/producer Marion Parsonnet (Gilda; My Forbidden Past; I’ll Be Seeing You) surely would have appealed to him because he was a member of the Hollywood Anti-Nazi League long before America entered World War 2 in December, 1941.  No doubt Garfield enthusiastically approved of the film’s uncompromising depiction of German agents wreaking havoc in the free world; I sure would!

Directed by Robert Florey (from Murders in the Rue Morgue; The Cocoanuts; Meet Boston Blackie; TV’s Alfred Hitchcock Presents, The Dick Powell Theatre), we meet our heroine, Jane Graystone (Nancy Coleman in her film debut; she also co-starred in Kings Row; Mourning Becomes Electra; The Gay Sisters; and TV’s Ryan’s Hope), a lovely lass with a slight British lilt in her voice.  Jane seems to be checking out the sights and sounds of The Big Apple as she checks in with another British gent. What’s with all the U.K. visitors? Is there a Doctor Who Con in town?  But judging from the men giving Jane the hairy eyeball as she innocently grabs a cab, our heroine will be forced to confront the aforementioned Big Apple's worms lurking in our otherwise fair city!

Hmm, I’m kinda liking the way Dr. Mike Lewis
displays his bedside manner!
Before you can say, “Where’s Traveler’s Aid?,” a henchman identified as John (John Ridgely of The Big Sleep; The Man Who Came to Dinner; Air Force) hangs around the the British Export Bureau.  Somehow I don’t think John's there to buy Travelers Cheques. Sure enough, Jane’s cab driver deliberately smashes the car into a wall, with a little help from from the fiendish cabbie.  Pandemonium reigns, and Jane is brought to the hospital as evil John and his cabbie cohort beat a hasty retreat!

Enter chipper, cocky-yet-likable Dr. Michael “Mike” Lewis (Garfield), as he gives Jane a through examination:

Jane: “I’ve got all my arms and legs and everything?”
Mike: “Yes, and believe me, they’re worth keeping.”
Dr. Mike looks forward to treating temporary amnesia victim Jane
like other doctors look forward to Christmas!
Nice to know he’s serious about his work!
As Mike admits Jane to the hospital, our anxious damsel-in-distress can’t remember a thing about herself.  Mike’s examination of his pretty new patient indicates temporary amnesia all right, giving Mike a perfect opportunity to fully examine a temporary amnesia patient, something he’s apparently been wanting to do for ages. How’s that for on-the-job training?

Before long, Mike gets a visit from Jane’s dad, John Goodwin (Moroni Olsen of The Glass Key; Pride of the Marines, also starring Garfield; and Alfred Hitchcock’s Notorious) turns up to aid his darling daughter.  Looks like a real fatherly, pillar-of-the-community type…but Jane doesn’t recognize him, either, and she swears the photos he brought to help kick-start her memory aren’t doing the trick, either.  It’s gradually dawning on our stalwart sawbones that Jane’s scared, and not just because of this alleged amnesia!  She finally gets alone with Mike — no, not because of his bedside manner or his attractive tush:

Jane: “You’re a good doctor, but you weren’t there when I was born, and I was.  That’s not my father.”

Mike (humoring her): “Now take it easy.  Everything will be all right.”

Jane:  “Yes, if you’ll stop humoring me and listen!  I work for British Intelligence, and that man is not my father.  He and his gang are trying to find out what I know.  Would you do me a favor?  Keep your eyes and ears open, and please never be far away from me?”

Call me paranoid, but Jane’s Dad strikes me as creepy,
not fatherly. Maybe he needs cuddlier glasses!
Mike does so, and during Jane’s hospital stay, she and Mike get to know and become increasingly fond of each other during their otherwise increasingly sinister predicament. But now Jane must keep the amnesia gambit going, or it’ll be curtains for both of them—and we don’t mean the drapes in the Psychotic Game Room! In the meantime, at least Mike and Jane can enjoy the lovely melody “You’re Not So Easy to Forget” in the background.  If fans of MGM’s Thin Man movies listen carefully, they’ll hear that song in the final Thin Man movie, Song of the Thin Man (1947).  It’s a nice touch, considering the film’s amnesia motif!

Dr. Mike and Head Nurse Johnson (Lee Patrick from The Maltese Falcon; Auntie Mame; Vertigo) discuss who’s going to pay for Jane’s hospital tab:
Mike: “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it.”
Head Nurse Johnson:   “With what?”
Mike:   “Don’t tell me you prefer blood.”
Head Nurse Johnson: “Not yours; I like it red.  Did you find out who she is yet?”
Mike: “No, she can’t remember a thing.”
Head Nurse Johnson:
“I don’t know what a brilliant student of mental diseases would do to find out a girl’s name, but I’d check her laundry mark.”


Mike:  “Not bad, Sherlock—but they may be in Chinese.”
Hmm, could it be mere coincidence that Jane’s laundry mysteriously goes AWOL soon afterward?  Are Head Nurse Johnson and/or the other busy little elves at the hospital just being unwittingly overzealous about putting away patients’ clothes, or is there something more sinister afoot?  If this story wasn’t set in 1941, I bet there would be lawsuits galore!

When it comes time for Jane to leave the hospital, it seems she and Mike just might catch a break:  Mike’s older colleague, Dr. Ingersoll (Raymond Massey from Abe Lincoln in Illinois; The Woman in the Window; Arsenic and Old Lace) agrees to let Mike come home with Jane to help her emotional healing—where we find out for sure that Dr. Ingersoll is, to borrow a line from cartoonist Mark Martin of CBG’s 20 Nude Girls 20, a “bad mans!”  Mike and Jane’s lives get more fearful and paranoid every day.  Seems Jane’s faux dad Mr. Goodwin and Dr. Ingersoll are really Nazi scum, and they’re tormenting the poor groundskeeper,  Mr. Steiner (Christian Rub from You Can’t Take It With You; he’s also the voice of Geppetto in Walt Disney’s Pinocchio), who’s under these creeps’ collective thumb.  With the villains packing heat and doing a fine job of keeping our heroes under control and away from anyone who could help them  (their most potent weapon seems to be the aforementioned Hairy Eyeball), the war of nerves alone makes escape harder than getting Alicia Huberman out of Alex Sebastian’s house in Alfred Hitchcock’s Notorious!  Where are Humphrey Bogart and his tough yet lovable Runyunesque pals from All Through the Night when you need them?!

Jane and her protector Mike couldn't be safer in Dr. Raymond Massey’s care; after all, he’s Honest Abe Lincoln! Then again, he was also evil Jonathan Brewster in Arsenic and Old Lace! Yikes!






Aha! It’s the ol’ Halifax trick, like in Across the Pacific!

In today's news, minor accident on Fifth Avenue leads to romance!

Friday, December 2, 2011

THE FALLEN SPARROW: Surrender to Dorothy!

Before we begin, here's a NEWS FLASH for folks playing Page's Six Degrees of Separation game: our awesome fellow blogger Monty of All Good Things passed the baton to me, since the next Six Degrees involved linking Gert Frobe to Goldie Hawn. To my surprise, I got it in one stroke: Frobe and Goldie Hawn were both in the 1971 caper comedy "$" (a.k.a. Dollars). So I picked Myrna Loy and Danny Kaye for the next challenge for awesome fellow blogger Lara from Backlots. Thanks!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Author Dorothy B. Hughes
And now for our feature presentation,  the subject of this week’s blog post, the 1943 film version of Hughes’ paranoid wartime thriller The Fallen Sparrow (TFS)!  Novelist Dorothy B. Hughes knew how to build a good head of paranoia and suspense in her novels. No wonder Hollywood knocked on her door after her first novel, The So Blue Marble (1940), became a best-seller! Three of Hughes’ 15 suspense thrillers were made into classic movies, including In a Lonely Place in 1950; Ride the Pink Horse in 1947; and of course, TFS. RKO skillfully and faithfully adapted Hughes’ novel for the silver screen. Director Richard Wallace (this versatile director’s wide variety of films included Captain Caution, Framed, and It’s in the Bag!), screenwriter Warren Duff, and editor Robert Wise had their hands full trying to condense the novel’s complicated relationships and events without watering it down. Hughes’ thrillers were brilliant, with memorable characters, but her plots are also quite complex, keeping readers on their toes as well as on the edge of their seats. It was worth it; all concerned did a masterful job of bringing TFS to the big screen!

Don't you love film/book tie-ins?
Set in November 1940, TFS starts with the quote “...in a world at war many sparrows must fall....” The film brings us into the mindset of troubled yet determined hero John “Kit” McKittrick (John Garfield). Lt. Louie Lepetino, Kit’s boyhood friend, had helped him escape the Spanish prison where he’d been tortured for two agonizing years after the Spanish Civil War. Returning to New York City from a ranch rest cure, Kit’s stunned to discover that Louie’s been killed in a 12-story fall from a window at a swanky party for two wartime refugees, Dr. Skaas (Walter Slezak) and his nephew Otto (Hugh Beaumont before his TV stardom on Leave it to Beaver). Hell-bent on proving Louie’s death was neither accidental nor a suicide, Kit starts sleuthing, with help from pal Ab Parker (the likable Bruce Edwards, who earned his first film credit in TFS after many uncredited roles). Kit’s grim goal: killing Louie’s killer.

Does that look like the
French Connection movie ad, or what?
Hughes sure knew how to grip a reader with suspense while evoking the feeling and atmosphere of wintertime World War 2 Manhattan, even if some of her turns of phrase (such as a reference to one character’s “wrathy eyes”) looked a little odd to this modern reader. Her portrait of the era’s upscale cafĂ© society characters and their milieu is presented with both glamour and bitterness as seen through war veteran Kit’s eyes. His viewpoint is especially intriguing because, it’s indicated, he’s had trouble fitting in for some time, having been raised in a working class environment only to be shoehorned into the glamorous life when his policeman dad came into money, which only turned into more money when his mother became a widow and married into the upper crust. When I first watched the movie version, I was glad to see the film got that right.

"Dear Louie: I'm out of my hed. O hurry or I may be ded...."


FF #1 Barby Taviton: rich, hot refugee den mother
Kit’s suspects include just about everyone in his upscale circle of friends, especially the women, since he’s gotten it into his head that surely only a dame could’ve gotten close enough to Louie to shove him out a window. The trio of gorgeous suspects include:
FF #2:  Whitney Parker, The "Content Imp" 

Femme Fatale Candidate #1:
Patricia Morison as Kit’s alluring old flame Barby Taviton. Stunning brunette Morison may not look like the blonde Barby described in Hughes’s novel, but she’s got the right sophistication and entitled attitude. Ironically, Morison’s many films included The Song of Bernadette and Song of the Thin Man, but she never sings in TFS! That honor went to:

Femme Fatale Candidate #2: Martha O’Driscoll as Whitney Parker, Ab’s young chanteuse cousin, affectionately nicknamed “The Imp.” The appealing O’Driscoll got plenty of work in the 1940s, including roles in Reap the Wild Wind and The Lady Eve, as well as playing Daisy Mae in the first film version of Li’l Abner from 1940. By the way, Whitney’s name was actually “Content Hamilton” in Hughes’ novel (she was the one with the aforementioned “wrathy eyes”), but I prefer Whitney’s new movie-friendly name. I must admit that as I read the book, my eyes kept tripping over the name “Content”! For all I know, “Content” might have been a popular name for girls back in the early 1930s and ’40s, but to my 21st-century eyes, reading “Content” as a person’s first name looked odd, yanking me out of the story several times before I finally resigned myself to it.

FF #3: Mysterious refugee Toni Donne. God bless America!
Femme Fatale Candidate #3: Team Bartilucci favorite Maureen O’Hara as  lovely, guarded, sad-eyed refugee Toni Donne, who’s falling in love with Kit despite her wariness (admittedly, Kit's a convincing, persistent fella), but there’s some terrible hold over her. O’Hara’s performance is a big change from the fiery, strong-willed redhead we all know and love from The Quiet Man and so many other great films. Somehow I think Toni and House of Cards Anne de Villemont should get together and start a support group for women in sinister neo-Gothic households!

At least Kit doesn't have to sit with Bruno Antony!

But Kit’s biggest obstacle is that he has what we now call Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He’s still haunted by the memory of the mysterious man from Franco’s elite Nazi squad, a limping man (called “Wobblefoot” in the novel; in the film, he’s simply “The man who limps”) who tortured Kit relentlessly in his dark cell, trying to make our troubled but determined hero reveal where he’d hidden his regiment’s battle standard. (In the novel, the MacGuffin was a set of fabulous Babylon goblets the defiant Kit took from the enemy. The goblets are in the film, but Duff’s script emphasizes that battle flag and the symbolism behind it.) Even now, Kit struggles against fear as he imagines hearing the drag and thump that signaled his sadistic tormentor’s arrival—or is he imagining it? Terror mounts as Kit slowly realizes his enemies may have followed him home, maybe even planting their spies into every aspect of Kit’s life, placing not only himself in danger, but also his friends and loved ones. Even the innocent Whitney’s accompanist Anton is suspect—especially considering he’s played by young John Banner in his pre-Hogan’s Heroes days!

Kit has a Bernard Herrmann moment. Next time, he should play some nice, soothing violin music!
The role of Kit fits John Garfield like a glove (no, not a boxing glove, though Garfield seemed able to handle himself despite his real-life health issues). Even when his character is fighting his fears, he commands the screen as a working-class, self-described “mug” in gent’s clothing, with a heart full of determination and all-but-shattered ideals. Garfield’s toughness, tenderness, and humor have us rooting for Kit immediately. As in the book, Kit spends lots of time and energy trying to convince himself he’s not afraid, only to be proved wrong, to his frustration. Author Hughes’s haunting descriptions of Kit’s memories of his horrific Spain ordeal in the book are conveyed well in Garfield’s powerful monologue, enhanced by the camera’s slow close-up on his expressive face. The sweat on Garfield’s brow and the twitch in his cheek as he finally faces his enemy during the climax speaks volumes. If you ask me, TFS showcases one of John Garfield’s finest performances; he should have gotten an Oscar nomination!

Smooches, balloons, and plush penguins?
I totally want to know more about Kit and Toni's date!
Lovely Maureen O’Hara tries to downplay her Irish accent, but it still lurks in certain words. While our family adores O’Hara, I’ll admit she wouldn’t have been our first choice as a femme fatale, but Toni’s inner fear and regret come through in O’Hara’s poignant, soulful portrayal, winning my sympathy. O’Hara also has great fire-and-ice chemistry with the intense Garfield. When Kit kissed Toni in the novel, she never kissed back with any kind of enthusiasm, especially considering her cautious-bordering-on-icy reserve. But in this film version, Kit and Toni finally share longing kisses and tender embraces—much more fun to watch!

Walter Slezak’s performance as Dr. Skaas is silkily sinister, though I felt that his true evil nature was telegraphed much earlier than in the book, with his interest in “the cruelties of men towards other men” and “comparing modern scientific torture with the methods of the ancients,” who apparently didn’t mess with victims’ heads enough for Skaas’ liking! An avuncular hybrid of Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre, and Clifton Webb, Slezak is one of 1940s cinema’s most memorable villains.
TFS keeps the paranoia percolating and the suspense simmering. I was especially glad to see that the filmmakers included much of the novel’s best dialogue, with only minor tweaks. They truly evoked the feeling and atmosphere of wintertime World War 2 Manhattan, underscored by Roy Webb and Constantine
Bakaleinikoff’s Oscar-nominated score. Today’s audiences might not understand Kit’s obsession with the battle flag, even with the explanatory scene at Toni’s home. Then again, I bet the men and women now fighting overseas will get the significance of a battle standard and what it symbolizes!

Kit's crowd has the swankiest suspects this side of The Thin Man movies!


Otto and Dr. Skaas dish new tips from Popular Torture Monthly
(Can you believe that's young Hugh Beaumont on the left?
Although Dorothy B. Hughes’s mysteries were best-sellers in her heyday, they seemed to be all but forgotten after she retired to focus on her family. Luckily, the film version of TFS captures her tale of terror beautifully. If you want to read the book, Amazon.com has both new and used paperback editions available so you can rediscover her. Interestingly, the 1988 paperback edition I read had cover art with an uncanny resemblance to, of all things, the movie poster for The French Connection!
On the TCM Web site, writer Andrea Passafiume wrote, “RKO bought the rights to the novel in 1942, but the political backdrop involving Nazi villains and Spanish Fascists was a bit of a hot-button issue at the time. RKO executive William Gordon fired off a memo to producer Robert Fellows that stated his three ‘areas of concern’ about the story’s content: ‘1. Desire of State Department to maintain friendliest relations with present Spanish government. 2. Possibility of Spain as ally. 3. Offensive to most Latin Americans.’ He even suggested that the film’s reference location should be changed from Spain to Nazi-invaded France. Similarly, Joseph Breen of the Production Code Administration wrote to RKO saying, ‘We strongly urge that you consult your Foreign Department as to the advisability of the Spanish angle contained in this picture.’ Fellows chose to not be deterred by such warnings and moved forward with the film keeping all political angles and locations intact.”

"Talk treason to me, baby."
TFS brims with ambiance even apart from its palpable paranoid atmosphere. An otherwise decidedly mixed review in The New York Times (and it wasn’t even by the ever-picky Bosley Crowther! The only identification in the Times’ review from August 20th, 1943 were the initials “T.S.”) said,What lifts the film above the merely far-fetched and macabre is largely the skill with which Director Wallace has used both soundtrack and camera to suggest the stresses upon (Kit’s) fear-drenched mind. A street lamp shining through a fire escape throws a lattice across a sweating face; in a shadowy room, the remembered footsteps mingle with the tinkle of a bell and become the sound of dripping water from a leaking faucet. And again, when the climax is being quietly prepared at a refugee gathering in a mansion, the strident strains and swirling skirts of a gypsy dance brush momentarily across the silence between the warring opponents. Through these scenes and others Mr. Garfield remains almost constantly convincing, and without his sure and responsive performance in a difficult role, Mr. Wallace’s effects would have been lost entirely.”  Happily, The Fallen Sparrow is available from Warner Archive for all to enjoy on DVD and downloads!




Who knew John Banner of
Hogan's Heroes was dapper?