Crossroads (1942)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Crossroads (1942) – J. Conway

William Powell plays David Talbot, a French diplomat, recently married to beautiful Hedy Lamarr, who is suddenly accused of an outstanding debt and asked to turn over $1 million francs.  Unfortunately, Talbot has long been suffering from amnesia and can’t remember his past!  When he refuses to pay, he’s taken to court where witnesses identify him as another man (Jean Pelletier). There are a few twists and turns in the plot (that involve Basil Rathbone and Claire Trevor) but Talbot remains inscrutable throughout.  Is he pretending to have amnesia? It's a possibility. Powell only occasionally allows his witty and dapper (Thin Man) persona to show through and instead remains glum and rather dour most of the time.  This takes a bit of the shine off the film but it is nevertheless a solid watch, if not quite noir. Of course, it’s all tied up with a bow at the end (although didn’t seem like it would be). 

 

This Gun for Hire (1942)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

This Gun for Hire (1942) – F. Tuttle

First teaming of Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake who went on to star together in a few further films. I’ve read that they did not like each other very much.  It doesn’t really show here, perhaps because Ladd plays a cool hitman (Raven; very likely the forerunner of Delon’s Jef Costello in Melville’s Le Samourai).  Raven doesn’t show much emotion (except briefly when helping a small child) but you do sense his fondness toward Lake, at least later in the picture, after he is thwarted from rubbing her out as a witness. The plot (from Graham Greene) is a little convoluted – Ladd is hired by Laird Cregar, a chemical company exec who pays to wipe out a blackmailer who is about to expose him as selling formulas for weapons to the enemy (this is WWII). He pays Ladd in marked bills and tells the cops that Ladd stole them.  Soon enough, Ladd spends some money and the dragnet is after him. Lake, the girlfriend of the cop after Ladd, accidentally meets Ladd on a train (after being recruited by a Senator seeking to uncover Cregar’s nefarious actions to get dirt on him) but he takes her hostage when Cregar tips them off that he’s on the train.  Of course, crime doesn’t pay (with the Hays Code still in existence), so it doesn’t end well for Ladd (or Cregar). This early film noir captures the look of the genre and, although we don’t ever identify with Ladd, there’s a fatalistic sense that he’s the victim of a terrible childhood that he could never escape. Not yet the noir theme of the fatal mistake that dooms a protagonist but we’re on the way there.

 

The Man Who Came To Dinner (1942)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Man Who Came To Dinner (1942) – W. Keighley

Adapted for the screen by the Epsteins (who also wrote Casablanca) from Hart and Kauffman’s Broadway play, this comedy increases in chaos as it proceeds but I don’t know that it fully reaches screwball heights. Monty Woolley plays Sheridan Whiteside, a famous author who enjoys hobnobbing with the rich and famous but has little patience for fools. When he slips on the ice when entering the house of a rich industrialist in small town Ohio, he breaks his hip and must stay at their house for weeks. He promptly takes over his house, relegating the family to upstairs/offscreen (except when he advises the adult children to leave the nest). The main plot focuses on Whiteside’s assistant Maggie Cutler (played by Bette Davis) who falls in love with local newspaper editor and budding playwright Bert Jefferson (Richard Travis); Whiteside attempts to break it up by ringing up actress Lorraine Sheldon (Ann Sheridan) to seduce Bert away from Maggie. It’s funnier than it sounds, mostly thanks to Woolley (and the script), but the real treat is the sudden surprise entrance of Jimmy Durante (playing a trickster character based on Harpo Marx) who helps to resolve the plot. Genius!   

 

Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1942)

☆ ☆ ½

Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1942) -- R. W. Neill


Possibly I've just seen Secret Weapon one too many times (or it could be the jet lag) but this rendition of Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce attempting to outfox the Nazis seems just a cut below their usual high standard (for genre pics). The plot, freely adapted from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "Adventure of the Dancing Men", utilizes an alphabet substitution code that admittedly fits well into the wartime (not Victorian) milieu. Holmes dons not one, not two, but three different disguises to confuse and perturb the enemy (but not, of course, the audience). However, the insertion of Moriarty into the action creates a mishmash of story threads that don't really cohere, even if his dastardly tricks do provide some competition for our master sleuth. (2009 review)

Moontide (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆

Moontide (1942) – A. Mayo

Jean Gabin’s first Hollywood picture (he didn’t make many) sees him playing a dockworker who may have killed a man during a drunken binge that he can’t remember.  But that summary makes this film sound a lot more noir than it really is (despite Fritz Lang’s reported early involvement).  Instead, it is more of a drama about a group of people kicking around a dead end port city in Southern California.  Gabin has to put up with Thomas Mitchell’s character sponging off him (because he knows a dark secret from the past) but he’s easy-going about it.  However, when he falls in love with Ida Lupino (after rescuing her from attempted suicide by drowning), there is friction because Mitchell would rather leave and prevent their marriage.  (I didn’t notice the gay subtext until later).  Gabin also makes friends with Claude Rains’ night watchmen who seems a key suspect for the murder, particularly when he burns some of the evidence; however, this might also be read as his effort to protect Gabin.  Everybody loves the Frenchman and Gabin’s charisma mostly translates into English – but this vehicle is a bit too stodgy and less cool than he needed.  Still, there is some charm here and the sense of community that is built, particularly coming together for the wedding, is not really that far from what Renoir often achieved (and of course Gabin starred in one of that master’s greats).  The stellar black and white cinematography by Charles G. Clarke was nominated for an Oscar. But if you want the best of Gabin, stick with his French films (by Renoir, Carné, Becker).

In Which We Serve (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

In Which We Serve (1942) – N. Coward & D. Lean

Entertaining WWII propaganda piece that shows the Brits keeping a stiff upper lip as they fight the Germans at sea.  Noel Coward wrote and co-directed (with first time director David Lean) this gritty look at the crew of the destroyer H. M. S. Torrin as they ship out, fight numerous battles, and eventually get sunk.  The title correctly tells viewers that the film is really about the ship (her birth, life, and death) and the sailors who serve in her do give a large number of speeches about her worthiness.  Much of the story is told in flashback, as the first scenes we see are the bombing of the ship and the “abandon ship” decree from Captain D. (played by Coward himself).  The cast cling to a lifeboat as the camera shows their faces in turn and cuts to their lives just before shipping out, showing the people whom they love (and for whom they are fighting the war).  The action sequences feature real wartime footage and ships, along with studio work.  John Mills plays a key role, as does Bernard Miles, and there is a good bit part for Richard Attenborough.  Celia Johnson is strong support as Coward’s wife.  With ANZAC Day tomorrow, it seems important to remember the sacrifices that some made and to hope that they won’t be needed again.

Pardon My Sarong (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Pardon My Sarong (1942) – E. C. Kenton

Amiable and meandering comedy starring Abbott and Costello which is just a bunch of bits strung onto a typically ridiculous plot.  The boys are bus drivers who hijack their own city bus to help out a society bachelor who needs to get from Chicago to California for a yacht race.  Soon, the law is after them -- in the form of William Demarest (a Preston Sturges favourite); they duck into a magician’s dressing room to escape (cue hijinks).  We are then treated to a few musical interludes (including from The Ink Spots) in the club, which was common in 1940s films of this type and gives them a relaxed feel.  Soon, though, Costello drives the bus into the ocean and the duo winds up on the playboy’s yacht, and subsequently shipwrecked on a tropical isle.  There they run into beautiful or burly natives, an anthropologist who is really running a gang of jewel thieves, and some more slapstick and wordplay.  Of course, given the vintage, there are some pretty crude caricatures on display here but fortunately the racism isn’t mean-spirited (but unfortunately it is still racism) – Lou Costello is typically the butt of most gags.  The sexism is probably more unabashed and there is a fair amount of leering (1940s style).  But if you feel disposed to look past these things (which we can hope are moving behind us, at least overtly), then there are a bunch of chuckles here and everything feels pretty good-natured.  One of A & C’s better outings.

Mrs. Miniver (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Mrs. Miniver (1942) – W. Wyler

Melodrama-cum-propaganda piece created by Hollywood but purporting to show the British coping with the onset of World War II.  Wyler was already a masterful director (The Letter, Wuthering Heights, and Jezebel were under his belt with The Best Years of Our Lives, Roman Holiday, and more yet to come). He controls the action well and allows Greer Garson to take an affectionate star turn as the title character, a mum coping with a war that sees her son off to the RAF and her husband (Walter Pidgeon) contributing as a civilian at Dunkirk (not to mention her house and community bombed).  However, this is a fantasyland England where everyone bonds together and gets on with it; Garson’s family is significantly well off (with a maid) – moreover, they simply shrug off the hardships (less “stiff upper lip” and more impossible cheerfulness) until they really can’t.  But as I said this is melodrama and the major subplots involve a romance between the Minivers’ son Vin (Richard Ney) and the granddaughter (Teresa Wright) of the local aristocrat (played curmudgeonly by Dame May Whitty) as well as a flower competition that sees humble Henry Travers taking on Whitty.  Still, there were some tear-jerking moments and the rousing rallying cry, though undercut by the failure to depict the brutality of war in real terms, still comes through.  This won six Oscars (including for Garson, Wright, Wyler, and best picture) after being nominated for 12.       

The Falcon Takes Over (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Falcon Takes Over (1942) – I. Reis

George Sanders is the Falcon, an upper crust society-type who is also a private investigator.  He seems to also have a way with the ladies (a la James Bond).  However, in this film, a rendering of Raymond Chandler’s Farewell, My Lovely, the Falcon is really Philip Marlowe, so there’s a bit of dissonance:  Marlowe was never so suave.  Indeed, Dick Powell’s Marlowe in the superior Murder, My Sweet (1944) is far more lived in and grungy. He also gets beat up a fair bit which doesn’t happen to the Falcon; instead Sanders has a sidekick played by Allen Jenkins who takes the various beatings from Moose Malloy and also provides comic relief by getting into trouble.  This moves the film into the more formulaic territory of the mystery serials (e.g., Charlie Chan, Dick Tracy, Mr. Moto, Sherlock Holmes, etc.) which were generally lighter fare.  But somehow the Chandler text elevates the picture to something more than the usual “guess the murderer before he/she is identified by the sleuth” mystery – it is a little more confusing, less straightforward, more interesting.  George Sanders’ star power is more than evident but he’s still an odd droll character – who thought he should be the hero? That said, I fully approve of him and the film was fine.

  

The Talk of the Town (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Talk of the Town (1942) – G. Stevens

Comedy with serious undertones and nicely observed characters from George Stevens – who seems to be channelling Frank Capra with Jean Arthur in the lead and a story about “the law” and how it needs to serve the people rather than lofty principles.  Cary Grant stumbles into Jean’s life and the cottage she is about to rent out to Dean of the Law School Ronald Colman, he’s on the lam after escaping prison, falsely accused of burning down a factory.  The factory owner has the town in his back pocket and he’s railroading the case with a handpicked judge and jury.  Grant and his lawyer lean on Colman to assist, but he’s too principled to get involved in a local case…until his fondness for Grant and Arthur both win him over and he shaves off his beard and gets his hands dirty.  It works because we too grow fond of these characters, even if the larger themes are a bit garbled; Capra handled complicated issues better by ramping up the sentimentality and distilling the arguments to their simplest points, also throwing in quirky supporting players.  Stevens hits it right down the middle which is satisfying but it doesn’t go out of the park.   

A Night to Remember (1942)

☆ ☆ ½

A Night to Remember (1942) – R. Wallace

Dopey film that is a hybrid of two genres from the thirties and early forties: the screwball comedy and the murder mystery. If this sounds a bit like The Thin Man (1934), then you are not far wrong – undoubtedly the team of William Powell and Myrna Loy were a model for this film’s Brian Aherne and Loretta Young. Aherne is a mystery writer himself (who also seems to like a drink, a la Powell) and Young is his wife who rents a Greenwich Village basement apartment to provide him with more ambience for his creative process.  When a dead body turns up in their garden, we are introduced to a number of suspects from the same apartment building, all of whom seem to be sharing a secret – and perhaps a guilty one!  When Sidney Toler (the second Charlie Chan) shows up as a police detective, you know we are in genre territory.  Unfortunately, despite engaging performances from Aherne and Young, the whole thing feels a bit flat.

  

The Black Swan (1942)

☆ ☆ ☆

The Black Swan (1942) – H. King

Although it won an Oscar for best color cinematography, The Black Swan is a rather lacklustre swashbuckler.  Perhaps the genre was worn out after the 1930s and the era of Errol Flynn and all those Alexandre Dumas stories.  Indeed, this film shares strong similarities with Flynn’s Captain Blood (1935) which is much better.  Tyrone Power is good here, but although he was known for adventure films, I liked him better in later darker films such as The Razor’s Edge (1946) or Nightmare Alley (1947).  Also, there are some funny character turns here:  Laird Cregar as a mountainous Captain Morgan (yes, of the rum) and George Sanders unrecognizable in a wild red hair and beard as Captain Billy Leach.  Maureen O’Hara is fine as Powers’ love interest but her scenes are rather static.  All told, this is fine Saturday afternoon fare but look to the earlier decade for the good stuff.