Shed No Tears: It’s So Bad, It’s Good!

A few days after I saw Shed No Tears (1948) for the first time, I told my mother about the movie and recommended that she watch it.

After she did, she called me and said, “I just have one question. Why??”

And I told her, “Because it’s so bad, it’s good!”

This account may or may not be apocryphal, but there’s no denying two things about Shed No Tears: (1) It’s no masterpiece, and (2) I enjoyed it!

(Before I dive into this little confection from Equity Pictures, let me say that I’m highly likely to let a few – or more than a few – spoilers slip, so watch your step!)

In a nutshell, the film is about a man who fakes his death so that his wife can collect his insurance payout and the two of them can ride off into the Mexico City sunset together. What he doesn’t know is that he’s not exactly the apple of her eye – in fact, she’s got a whole pie on the side, if you get my drift. And she plans on using her faux-deceased hubby’s insurance money to jet off Honolulu with that pie.

Who’s who?

June Vincent brings Edna to life.

The husband in the film is Sam Grover, played by one of my favorite pre-Code/film noir straddlers, Wallace Ford (check him out, for instance, in Skyscraper Souls [1932] and Breaking Point [1950]). His wife, Edna, is played with gusto by June Vincent, who I know from Black Angel, her 1946 noir with Dan Duryea and Peter Lorre. And Edna’s side-fella is Ray Belden (Robert Scott, who, though you may not know it, you’ve seen if you’re familiar with Gilda [1946] – he played Gabe Evans, the “pretty” fella dancing with the title character shortly before she delivers her well-known “Bar Nothing” line).

Who else?

Others in the film are Sam’s son, Tom (Dick Hogan, whose final performance in his 12-year film career was as the murder victim in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope [1948]); Tom’s fiancée, Marilyn (Elena Verdugo, who’s perhaps best recognized as the receptionist on TV’s Marcus Welby, M.D.); Lt. Hutton (Frank Albertson, who was Katharine Hepburn’s ne’er-do-well brother in Alice Adams [1935}, Sam “Hee-Haw”  Wainwright in It’s a Wonderful Life [1946], the owner of the $40 grand that Janet Leigh steals in Psycho [1960] and the mayor of Sweet Apple, Ohio, in Bye Bye Birdie [1963]). And in a significant role as Huntington Stewart is Johnstone White who, for reasons that I can’t fathom, is given the “Introducing” title in the credits even though he’d been in films for more than 10 years.

Dr. Welby’s receptionist was a looker back in the day!

What’s the low-down about the plot?

Like many a noir, Shed No Tears starts out relatively simply, but grows more complex as it goes along. At the outset, Sam sets a hotel room on fire and tosses a corpse out of the window that’s wearing Sam’s watch and ring – as intended, the authorities think that Sam is the dead guy. Meanwhile, Sam takes a bus to Washington, D.C. – the plan is for Edna to collect the $50,000 life insurance policy on Sam and then join him in D.C. before they both start their new life together in Mexico. (By the way, $50,000 may not sound like much to finance a new life, but adjusting for inflation, it would come to more than $655,000 today. Not too shabby.)

Ray and Edna. Up to no good.

As I mentioned earlier, Edna plans to double-cross Sam by taking his insurance money and disappearing with Ray. But a couple of things – or should I say people – stand in her way: Sam’s son, who doesn’t believe that Sam’s death was an accident, and Huntington Stewart, who Tom hires to look into the matter. And if that weren’t enough, Stewart is less interested in unearthing the truth about Sam’s demise than he is in snagging a piece of Sam’s insurance money for himself.

What’s bad about this movie?

Dick Hogan. Enough said.

I’m not gonna lie – Dick Hogan’s performance leaves a lot to be desired. It’s kinda like watching an animated block of wood. And I use the word “animated” loosely. A perfect example of his thespianic capabilities comes during a conversation Tom has with the private investigator, Stewart, who suggests that Edna and Ray may have conspired to kill Sam. Tom actually snaps his fingers and enthusiastically emotes: “So they could have each other and plenty of money besides! That’s it! We’ve got it!” Oh, brother! (And while I’m on the subject, Robert Scott, as Ray, is no Laurence Olivier either. But he does have nice dimples.)

Also, the plot has a tendency to veer into certain directions and then completely abandon them. There’s one scene, for instance, where Edna is visited by two representatives from her husband’s insurance company. One of the reps makes it clear that he’s not satisfied with the police’s account of Sam’s death: “Before we settle,” he tells Edna, “I’ll have to do a certain amount of investigating.” And he adds, rather ominously, that his report will be ready in about a week “if there are no disturbing difficulties.” We never see or hear from this dude again.

Sam turns over a houseful of furniture.

In another scene, Sam employs an interesting scheme to raise money for his return to Los Angeles from his Washington, D.C. hideout. He’s been renting a room in a house and he tells the housekeeper that the landlady no longer needs her services. With the other renters and the landlady at work for the day, Sam proceeds to contact a finance company that offers “easy way loans” on cars, furniture, and other items. It’s a kind of pawn shop that makes housecalls – and Sam arranges to turn over all of the furniture in the house – living room, dining room, kitchen, and four bedrooms – in exchange for a cash loan. But what did the landlady say when she arrived to a house completely void of furnishings? Did any of the neighbors notice that all of the furniture in the house was being removed? And did the housekeeper ever get her back pay? We’ll never know. The landlady, the housekeeper, and the furniture-bereft house are out of the picture – for good.

Speaking of good, what’s good about this movie?

For my money, it’s the triumvirate of June Vincent, Wallace Ford, and Johnstone White that transforms this low-budget stinker into a time-worthy yarn.

Five hundred bucks? Be for real.

June’s Edna grabs your attention from the moment she appears on screen. She has a way of delivering her lines that reminds you of a refined diner waitress from Hackensack. But she’s fascinating to watch – able to go from zero to 60 on the emotional scale, cool as shaved ice when she has to be, and always ready with a smooth lie when she needs one. In case you’re not certain that Edna is a femme fatale of the first order (despite her decidedly non-femme fatale-ish name), the film tosses a couple of red flags your way early on.  The first comes after the hotel fire, when Sam is on his way to catch his Washington, D.C.-bound bus. He gives his wife $500 (nearly $7,000 in 2024 dollars) and when he asks her if that’s enough, she sullenly replies, “I guess so.” She then tells him she needs new clothes: “A widow has to wear black.” Minutes later, we get a couple more red flags. After Edna watches Sam’s bus pull away, she dismissively tosses her cigarette to the ground in a move that feels like a metaphor for her indifference toward her spouse. She then checks her reflection in a nearby mirror, removes her beret, reapplies her lipstick, and smoothes her hair, giving her curls an extra pat for good measure. There’s something about that pat that spells DANGER. Or maybe, DUPLICITOUS. Or words to that effect.

Red flags begin to appear . . .

One thing about Edna, she can be as sweet as maple syrup or as hard as rock candy. And she perfectly demonstrates the latter quality in a scene late in the film where she squares off against Sam, delivering the following monologue: “I’ve got to kill you before you kill me. Because I despise myself for ever having had anything to do with you. Every time you came near me, I hated it. Whenever you touched me, it made me ill. Everything you did revolted me. I hated the way you let me push you around, the stupid way you sacrificed for me. Everything that would have been beautiful in anyone else, I loathed in you. But now I’m gonna fix it so I don’t ever have to see or think about you again.” (Whoa!)

Something about that ‘stache . . .

As Edna’s put-upon hubby, Wallace Ford is off-screen for half the film, but when he’s there, he makes sure we know it. In the beginning, Sam comes off like a sap, asking Edna to write to him every day while he’s in D.C. and telling her he “must be daffy” about her to be involved in such a scheme. But Sam’s no dummy. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that Edna’s not the paragon of virtue he imagined her to be, and once he does – watch out. He grows a moustache that’s as transformative as Samson’s long mane and returns to Edna with nothing short of murder on his mind. Best of all, he’s always on an even, matter-of-fact keel – he doesn’t raise his voice or demonstrate even a modicum of anger, even when he tells Edna: “All I wanted was you. You were everything to me. There was a time when I thought I’d die if you ever left me. But now, I think I can get along all right without you. You’re through with me, and I don’t want you anymore. Very nice timing.”

Stewart. Not your typical private dick.

The last member of this trio is Huntington Stewart, who strikes me as a mishmash of a low-rent Waldo Lydecker and, for some reason, Charlie Chan. He’s described by one character as “sort of eccentric,” and from the moment he opens his mouth, we understand why. We’re introduced to Stewart when Tom and his fiancée, Marilyn, go to meet with him. Marilyn walks into his office, with Tom entering a couple of seconds behind her. “My dear,” Stewart says, “You’re being followed. Did you know?” (Har.) And when Marilyn introduces Tom as her fiancé, Stewart offers: “You depress me deeply, Marilyn. However, I shall subject the young man to a thorough investigation and advise you whether to proceed with matrimony.” (Hee.) Literally every line out of this guy’s mouth is either some sort or quip or witticism, or else he’s tossing around phrases like “Machivellian machinations.” He undeniably incites the urge to roll one’s eyes on a regular basis; for instance, once he learns the name of Tom’s father, he asks him, “You are here, obviously, because there is some question in your mind concerning the circumstances of your father’s exit from this pleasant little world?” I mean, he could’ve just said, “You think your dad was murdered, huh?” But, no.

Still, there’s no denying that Huntington Stewart is different from any character in noir (or anywhere else, I’d wager) that you’re likely to come across. And when he and Edna go head-to-head, it’s an absolute gas. In fact, the exchanges between these two are the best thing about the movie – both full of snarky tones and bitter banter. They make me want to break out the popcorn and lean forward in my chair.

Other Shed My Tears Stuff

The film was based on the debut novel by Don Martin (who was described in the book’s dust jacket as “college bred and newspaper buttered”). Incidentally, if you’re interested in reading the source material, you can buy a copy of the book for a cool $1,500.00 from Abe Books and Biblio.com.

“Is that your daughter?”

There’s a brief scene showing Sam on the bus to D.C.; seated next to him is an older woman who sees him looking at a wallet photo of Edna. The woman asks Sam if the woman is his daughter. After a look of chagrin flashes across his face, he replies, “My granddaughter. She’s studying surgery in Switzerland.” This exchange was unnecessary, but it made me laugh. Not only that, but I recognized the older woman from an episode of I Love Lucy (Season 2, Episode 19), where Lucy and Ethel are courting a club member for her vote for president, for which they’re both running. In the last scene, the club member has been invited by Ricky to his nightclub and he’s showering her with attention, even making her a part of one of his numbers. She’s delighted, but it turns out that she’s actually the mother-in-law of the coveted club member. The actress was played by Ida Moore, who started her career in silent films in the mid-1920s and went on to appear in such classics as To Each His Own (1946), The Dark Mirror (1946), and The Egg and I (1947).

This is Mary Treen.

You may not know the name of the actress who played the housekeeper for the home where Sam rented a room, but you’ll certainly recognize her face. She’s Mary Treen, and her extensive filmography included Kitty Foyle (1940) and It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), where she played Tilly. If you’re a Brady Bunch aficionado, you’ll also surely remember Treen from the episode where Alice leaves the family because the children thinks she’s a snitch and have given her the cold shoulder; she’s replaced by a stern-faced friend of Alice’s named Kay, who doesn’t play basketball with the boys or have impromptu dance parties with the girls. (“That was Alice. I’m Kay,” she explains.) Kay was played by Treen.

Paul Maxey had quite a noir pedigree.

The skeptical insurance company representative who vowed to investigate Tom’s death was played by Paul Maxey. I remember him best from the 1952 noir The Narrow Margin, where he had a featured role as a portly train detective. He also had uncredited appearances in several other noirs, including They Won’t Believe Me (1947) and Ride the Pink Horse (1947). His first film was They Won’t Forget (1937), which also marked the debut of Lana Turner.

You can find Shed No Tears for free on YouTube; there’s also an ad-free version on Prime. If you like your noirs gritty and your femmes full of nasty charm, this is the movie for you. You only owe it to yourself to check it out – it’s so bad, it’s good!

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This post is part of the So Bad It’s Good Blogathon, hosted by Rebecca over at the Taking Up Room blog. Grab a snack, pour yourself something cold, and click here to discover some other films that are gems under shabby clothing. You’ll be glad you did.

French Revelations: Très Bien!

Rarely has a Blu-ray set been more aptly named than French Revelations, a recent Flicker Alley release featuring two French-language films: Fanfare D’Amour (Fanfare of Love) and Mauvaise Graine (Bad Seed). I’m always up for a foreign film, but I was especially looking forward to checking out these two: Fanfare D’Amour (1935) was the inspiration for the hit 1958 comedy Some Like It Hot, and Mauvaise Graine (1934) marked the directorial debut of Billy Wilder. And this duo did not disappoint.

Fanfare D’Amour

— Jeannette and Pierrette. Cheers!

This comedy focuses on two out-of-work musicians, Jean (Fernand Gravey) and Pierre (Julien Carette), who will do just about anything to land a job. They try playing with a gypsy band, a Latin band, and a Black jazz band, doing their best to fit in with each (including donning Blackface to play with the latter group). They finally try out for a touring all-girl band, The Dutch Tulips, which is missing “two flowers in the vase” – a bass player and a piano player – the very instruments played by our heroes. They are hired for the group as Jeannette and Pierrette.

Jean and Pierre join the Dutch Tulips aboard a train, and the hilarity ensues – both men are attracted to one of the band members, Gaby (Betty Stockfeld, with Jean donning his own clothes to act as a composer and Pierre dressing as a man and pretending to be Pierrette’s brother; the band’s director (Jacques Louvigny) has eyes for Jeannette; and while acting as Pierrette’s “brother,” Pierre draws the attention of Poupette (Gaby Basett). The laughs are amplified as Jean and Pierre try to outdo each other for Gaby’s affections, and Jeannette gains a reputation as a loose woman when Jean is spotted entering her room.

—The Dutch Tulips perform.

This film was a delight on its own, with its skillful way of tossing off one farcical situation after another, and Gravey and Carette both turning in first-rate comedic performances. But if you’re a fan of Some Like It Hot, I think it’s even more fun, as you’ll be unable to stop identifying the similarities and differences between the two movies. (Also, there’s a song in the film with the melody composed by Jean and the lyrics written by Jeannette – don’t be surprised if you’re not humming it by the picture’s end.)

Mauvaise Graine

— Henri and Jeannette.

This fascinating feature is part crime drama, part comedy, part love story – and all good. The central character is Henri Pasquier (Pierre Mingand), a wealthy ne’er-do-well whose life takes a turn when his father – fed up with his spendthrift ways – sells Henri’s beloved car. Spotting his (former) car on the street, Henri steals it, but is chased down by a gang of thieves who’d been eyeing the same vehicle for their car theft ring. When Henri is taken to the warehouse where the stolen cars are repainted and fitted with new license plates, he declines the hush money offer from the gang’s chief (Michel Duran) and, instead, throws his lot in with the thieves.

The members of the gang include the baby-faced Jean (Raymond Galle), who has an obsession for stealing ties (he has a collection numbering more than 300) and with whom Henri becomes fast friends. Jean’s sister, Jeannette (Danielle Darrieux) works with the gang as a decoy – she attracts men driving coveted cars, and while they are having a cocktail or attending a moving picture, the thieves steal the cars. When Henri proves to be a leader among the thieves, insisting on a higher cut of pay for the men who do the actual work, the gang chief decides that Henri is a liability. (“He wickedly defends their interests,” the chief’s right-hand man tells him. “I can’t stand him.”)

— Henri rallies the gang against the chief.

The film’s comedy relief is provided by one of the car thieves, known as the Zebra because of his outlandish striped suits, who constantly swipes such unusual vehicles as a passenger bus, and by Jean’s tie obsession, which includes stealing the ties of beachgoers – and his fellow gang members – enjoying a day at the shore. As for the film’s love aspect, Henri and Jeannette fall for each other, but the gang chief’s vendetta against Henri puts both of their lives in danger.

Both Fanfare D’Amour and Mauvaise Graine are accompanied by a commentary feature; by author and filmmaker August Ventura, and by historian, scholar and UCLA professor Jan-Christopher Horak, respectively. Both commentary tracks add to the enjoyment and appreciation of the films.

— Sixteen-year-old Danielle Darrieux

In addition to an examination of the film’s plot, Ventura’s commentary includes a variety of information, including the history of “all-girl” orchestras, and trivia tidbits including that actress Gaby Basett performed in cabarets and operettas, and was married for six years to popular French actor Jean Gabin (who you may have seen in such films as Pepe Le Moko, Moontide, or Martin Roumagnac). Horak’s commendation provides a mix of film analysis, information about the French film industry at the time, specifics about the on-location shooting, and details about the careers of Billy Wilder and the film’s stars. We learn, for instance, that Billy Wilder did not direct another film for close to 10 years, and he only did so then because he didn’t like what Hollywood directors were doing to his scripts. And we’re also told that star Danielle Darrieux was only 16 years old when she appeared in the film! Additional analysis and information are provided in an eight-panel insert containing an essay on both films by film historian Richard Neupert of the University of Georgia.

If you’re a fan of foreign films, pre-Code, crime dramas or, heck, classic movies in general, you’re going to enjoy the two rare films provided in this set. They are a sheer delight – and a revelation.

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My thanks to Flicker Alley for providing me with a review copy of this film. The Blu-ray can be purchased from Flicker Alley, or rented or purchased from Amazon and other online retailers.

Shadowy and Satiny: What to Watch on TCM in February 2024

Looking for some good stuff to watch in February? TCM’s got you covered.

Satiny Pick: One Way Passage (1932)

I found the pre-Code pickings for February to be rather slim but, never fear, I picked a real winner. One Way Passage may not be overflowing with salacious scenes and gratuitous shots of ladies in their step-ins, but it’s a darn good movie.

— They meet.

This feature stars William Powell and Kay Francis as Dan Hardesty and Joan Ames, who meet cute in a Hong Kong bar shortly before they both board a ship bound for America. But what Dan doesn’t know is that Joan is terminally ill, and what Joan doesn’t know is that Dan is a convicted killer on his way to the electric chair. Lucky for them both, Dan has a soft-hearted jailer (Warren Hymer), who gives him free rein on the ship (where’s he gonna go, after all?), which provides Dan and Joan with the perfect opportunity to fall in love – even while they both know that their days are numbered. Find out what happens on February 15th.

What else?

— They fall in love.

One Way Passage was the last of six films starring Powell and Francis. The others were Behind the Makeup (1930), Street of Chance (1930), For the Defense (1930), Ladies’ Man (1931), and Jewel Robbery (1932).

Directed by Tay Garnett (who would later helm the 1946 noir, The Postman Always Rings Twice), the film was a critical and commercial hit. In fact, it was the most successful of the six Powell-Francis teamings. Reportedly, though, Powell wasn’t overly fond of the film.

The film was remade in 1940 as Till We Meet Again, starring Merle Oberon and George Brent. It was decidedly NOT a hit.

Shadowy Pick: Odd Man Out (1947)

I don’t know what took me so long to watch Odd Man Out (I think it’s because I had it confused with the 1957 sports movie, Fear Strikes Out, about baseball player Jimmy Piersall), but thank goodness I finally wised up, because this is a good one, y’all.

— Rains considered this his best work. Me, too.

Set in Ireland, the film centers on escaped convict Johnny McQueen (James Mason), the leader of an underground organization which is not named but is undoubtedly meant to be the Irish Republican Army (IRA). Others in Johnny’s sphere include his most loyal comrade, Dennis (Robert Beatty), and Kathleen (Kathleen Ryan), the girl who loves him from afar (yet very near – she and her grandmother are allowing him to hide out in their house). The action kicks off when Johnny is shot after he and several of his associates commit a payroll robbery to secure funds for the group. And if that weren’t bad enough, Johnny becomes separated from his fellow conspirators, and spends the rest of the night struggling to avoid the police, encountering a series of peculiar characters, and trying to stay alive. Tune into TCM February 16th to see if he makes it.

What else?

— The cinematography was top notch.

The film was helmed by acclaimed English director Carol Reed, who also directed The Fallen Idol (1948), The Third Man (1949), and Oliver! (1968). James Mason considered his performance in Odd Man Out as the best of his career, and he named Reed as his favorite director.

The group of children playing in the streets were real-life residents of Belfast’s St. Patrick’s School for Roman Catholic Boys.

Odd Man Out has no femme fatale. No flashbacks. No voiceover narration. And it takes place in Ireland. But its painterly use of shadows and light, conflicted anti-hero, and purveying sense of impending doom make it unmistakably noir.

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Tune into TCM February 15th and 16th for these gems. You only owe it to yourself.

Shadowy and Satiny: What to Watch on TCM in January 2024

Another year, another 365 days of quality stuff on TCM! And January 2024 is no different – I have two must-see winners to recommend to you for this month. And they’re coming up near the start of January, so mark your calendars!

Shadowy Pick: The Locket (1946)

I’ve mentioned The Locket on this blog before – it’s the one that a friend described to me in detail, years before I ever saw it, and when I finally did, it instantly became a favorite. It’s not your run-of-the-mill noir: it features the most affable and poised femme fatale you’d ever want to encounter, and while Robert Mitchum plays a featured role, it’s not the noir Mitchum you’re accustomed to seeing. And you want flashbacks? This movie has ‘em in spades – a flashback within a flashback within a flashback. It’s a real kick.

You’d better listen to Brian, Gene. He knows what he’s talkin’ about.

But I haven’t mentioned what it’s about! Believe me, that’s not an easy tale to tell. Let me just say that it stars Laraine Day as Nancy, who we first meet on the day she is preparing to wed the very wealthy John Willis (Gene Raymond). Before the ceremony begins, though, Willis gets a visit from a man (Brian Aherne) who not only claims to be Nancy’s ex-husband, but – more importantly – serves up quite a cautionary series of stories about the lovely bride-to-be. Beyond that, you’ll just have to take my word for it: check it out. January 3rd. You won’t be sorry.

Other Stuff:

Notorious. The Locket. Same house?

The screenplay was originally purchased by actor Hume Cronyn, who planned to produce and direct the film with his wife Jessica Tandy in the role of Nancy. He later sold the rights to RKO.

You might recognize the interior of the house belonging to the Willis family. It’s believed that it’s the same as the house where Alex Sebastian (Claude Rains) lived with his mother in Notorious, released by RKO in the same year as The Locket.

Satiny Pick: Man’s Castle (1933)

This is one of those movies that I started watching several times, but never made it past the first few minutes. I’m not sure why, but it’s probably because Spencer Tracy’s role is so different from anything I’d ever seen him play, and it was hard for me to get past it. But I was determined to check out this film and see if it could make the grade as my recommendation for the month – and it sure did!

Glenda Farrell’s in it, too!

Directed by Frank Borzage (which, honestly, should have been reason enough for me to have watched this long ago), Man’s Castle stars Loretta Young as Trina, who’s very much down-on-her-luck and all alone in the big city. We’re introduced to her as she’s seated on a park bench, hungrily watching a tuxedo-clad gent (Tracy) feeding popcorn to a flock of lucky pigeons. When the man – Bill is his name – learns that Trina is starving, he treats her to an enormous meal in a swanky restaurant; it’s not until the end of the meal that we, along with Trina, discover that Bill is just as broke as his dining companion. The rest of the film explores the (rather unusual) relationship between Bill and Trina, as well as the lives of the others living in the shanty town where Bill and Trina make their home. It’s an absolutely fascinating film, with a story and characters unlike any I’ve ever encountered. I hope you’ll feel the same – you can find out on January 4th (in the wee hours of the morning).

They weren’t just acting, if you get my drift.

Other Stuff:

Loretta Young and Spencer Tracy began an affair during filming that lasted more than a year.

The film was re-released in 1938, with numerous scenes and dialogue edited out due to the Production Code, cutting the running time from 75 minutes to 66. The film was restored in recent years by Sony/Columbia to its original version – this is the version you’ll see on TCM.

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Start your year off right and tune into TCM on the 3rd and 4th for these first-rate flicks!

More than Max: Erich von Stroheim and Foolish Wives (1922)

If you’re like me, you know Erich von Stroheim best as Max Von Mayerling, the butler (and first husband) of aging silent movie star Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) in the classic 1950 noir Sunset Blvd.

But there was so much more to von Stroheim than Max.

While writing about von Stroheim for the soon-to-be-released Sunset Blvd. edition of The Dark Pages film noir newsletter, I became utterly obsessed with this actor/director. And, as luck would have it, I had the opportunity to view the Flicker Alley 4K restoration of one of his first directorial efforts, Foolish Wives (1922), a slient film that – the opening credits unabashedly inform us – was “conceived and realized in its entirety by Erich von Stroheim, based on his novel, Foolish Wives.”

— This is von Stroheim’s picture in more ways than one.

In a nutshell, the film centers on exiled “Russian aristocrats” Count Sergius Karamzin (von Stroheim), his cousins, Princess Olga (Maude George) and Princess Vera (Mae Busch), who live in a rented villa in Monaco and finance their lavish existence by passing counterfeit bills. Sergius also preys on wealthy women who visit nearby Monte Carlo, and Foolish Wives shows us the females who fall under his spell, including the family’s maid, Maruschka (Dale Fuller), and Helen Hughes (Miss DuPont), the wife of the U.S. Special Envoy to Monaco. Sergius is a cad of the first degree – he’s not only carrying on with these women, but he also has eyes on the “half-witted” daughter of the counterfeiter with whom he’s in cahoots, and there is some question – given their intimate actions – whether Olga and Vera are actually his cousins (and if they are, they appear to be “kissing” cousins, if you know what I mean. And I think you do.).

The film is captivating in its depiction of the sly manner in which Sergius ingratiates himself into the life of Helen Hughes, arranging to take boat ride with her, sending her flowers – and, ironically, offering to be her “protector” against charlatans who would be after her money. (Amusingly, when Sergius first meets Helen, she is sitting on a terrace reading a book. The book is Foolish Wives by Erich von Stroheim!)

— Sergius is up to no good in the shack with Mrs. Hughes.

Numerous scenes featuring von Stroheim are standouts. In one, Sergius invites Helen to accompany him on a walk, but the two get caught in a severe storm and they take refuge in a shack owned by an old woman. While Helen changes into dry clothes, Sergius respectfully leaves the room, but he spies on her in the reflection of his mirror. (Incidentally, this shot – with the mirror showing half of Segius’s leering face and half of Helen’s bare back – is quite striking and one of the most memorable of the film.)

In another scene, Sergius pulls out all the stops in an effort to separate Helen from a wad of cash that she recently won in a casino. He spins some sort of obscure tale about a debt of honor that must be paid with money or with blood, telling her, “I have given all to my country – and now that I need, I have not. I place my life in your hands.” (In the words of Virginia Grey in The Women [1939], holy mackerel, what a line!) He turns to face the wall in shame but manages to peek behind him to gauge Helen’s reaction. When he sees that Helen is withdrawing her money from her purse, he allows himself a satisfied smirk before fixing his face into its mask of contrition again.

— Maruschka didn’t have a chance.

And Sergius uses more subterfuge with the family maid, Maruschka, who he has promised to marry (possibly, although it’s not explicitly stated, because he has gotten her pregnant). He blames the postponed nuptials on his “unsettled estates” in Russia, but when he learns that Maruschka has socked away a tidy sum during her 20 years of service, he puts on a show worthy of Broadway. After soaking his nails in water (as part of a manicure he’d been giving himself), Sergius hides his face with his hands, lightly flicking the water from his fingers to give the impression of tears falling to the tablecloth. When Maruschka sees this, she immediately gives him all of her savings (even the coins!), and Sergius laughs with diabolical glee when her back is turned. Sergius is completely unredeemable, as he demonstrates throughout the film, and his vile behavior leads to a comeuppance at the end that is as satisfying as it is gruesome.

— The Monte Carlo set was constructed on the Universal Studios backlot. (photo courtesy of Martin Turnbull)

With its lavish sets, costumes, and meticulous attention to detail (including von Stroheim’s insistence on real caviar and champagne), Foolish Wives was known as the “first million-dollar movie” – a fact that I learned from one of the bonus features included with the Flicker Alley set. These include an excerpt from Pathe’s Screen Snapshots series, featuring rare on-set footage from the film; a documentary short about the historical and thematic importance of the film’s locations; a documentary on the making of the film, presented by Dave Kehr, film curator for New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA); and a featurette focusing on the film’s painstaking restoration. The set is a dual format Blu-ray/DVD edition and is accompanied by a new orchestral score composed and conducted by Timothy Brock (originally commissioned for the 2020 San Francisco Silent Film Festival). Also included with the set is a beautifully illustrated 24-page booklet that offers a new essay by James Layton, Manager, Celeste Bartos Film Preservation Center at The Museum of Modern Art, entitled “Searching for Foolish Wives: The Decades-Long Effort to Reconstruct Erich von Stroheim’s Masterpiece,” and excerpts from an examination of the film by critic and author David Thomson. It makes for a first-rate package that has served to fuel my fascination with von Stroheim and pique my interest in seeing more of his work.

— Rudolph Christians and Miss DuPont and Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.

Other stuff:

Rudolph Christians, who played Ambassador Hughes, died of pneumonia in the middle of the production; he was 52 years old. His part was completed by another actor, Robert Edeson, whose scenes were shot from the back.

A pivotal role was served up by the maid, Maruschka, portrayed by Dale Fuller. Her career was primarily in the silent era, including other von Stroheim productions such as Greed (1924) and The Merry Widow (1925), but she also appeared in a handful of talking films. These include the film that I best know her from – The Office Wife (1930) – along with Twentieth Century (1934), and her last film, The Tale of Two Cities (1935).  

There is a particular scene in the film that struck me as a forerunner of the film noir era. In it, Sergius goes to the home of the counterfeiter, Cesare Ventucci (Cesare Gravina), who lives with his daughter, Marietta (Malvina Polo). On two separate occasions, the men enter the bedroom of Marietta, who is asleep. The blinds of her window are open, casting a noir-like depiction of light and shadow, complete with dust motes floating in the air. It makes one wonder when the first window blind shadows appeared in film noir – and whether the cinematographer was a fan of von Stroheim.

My thanks to Flicker Alley for providing a review copy of this Blu-ray/DVD set. It can be purchased at the Flicker Alley website or through Amazon and other online retailers.

Shadowy and Satiny: What to Watch on TCM in December 2023

Nestled in between the holiday fare on TCM, there’s some good noir and pre-Code stuff airing in December – so much so that selecting my two recommendations was a breeze! Check ‘em out . . .

Satiny Pick: Another Language (1933)

I fell for this movie within minutes of first seeing it – maybe it had something to do with the fact that Robert Montgomery is the star! His co-star is Helen Hayes, who I’d previously enjoyed immensely in films like The Sin of Madelon Claudet (1931) and A Farewell to Arms (1932). Together, they play Victor and Stella Hallam, newlyweds who met and married after a whirlwind romance in Europe. We meet them on the ship back to New York, where their first stop is the house where Victor’s family lives – headed by his loving (and I do mean LOVING) mother, played to the hilt by Louise Closser Hale.

— The salad days.

Stella soon sees her wedded bliss melt away like a candy bar on a hot stove. The problem? Her mother-in-law, who dotes on her son and disdains his wife, taking every opportunity she can to either seize Victor’s attention or snidely cast shade on Stella. Or both. It doesn’t make for a happy marriage. But it makes for a darn good movie. Check it out on December 15th.

Other Stuff:

Louise Closser Hale died two days before the release of this film. She’d been shopping in Hollywood in July 1933 when she suffered a health issue – sources vary on whether she was overcome by the heat, suffered a stroke, or had a heart attack, but she died the following day at the age of 60. Her last film, the Marx Brothers’ Duck Soup (1933), where she had an unbilled role, was released in November of that year.

— That’s Hamilton on the right.

Originally, Norma Shearer was cast in the part of Stella Hallam, but her husband, MGM producer Irving Thalberg, suffered a major heart attack in 1932 and she opted to stay home to aid in his recovery.

Another Language got its start as a Broadway play – it ran for nearly a year, from April 1932 to February 1933. Four of the members of the Broadway cast reprised their roles in the film: John Beal, Irene Cattell, Hal K. Dawson, and Margaret Hamilton. The film was the first credited screen role for Hamilton, who is best know for playing the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz (1939).

Shadowy Pick: Roadblock (1949)

— McGraw and Dixon in a clinch.

As with Robert Ryan, Dan Duryea, and Richard Conte, I never met a Charles McGraw noir I didn’t like – and Roadblock is no exception. I’m especially jazzed about recommending this film because it’s so seldom aired. McGraw plays insurance investigator Joe Peters, who’s as hard-boiled as they come – until he falls for Diane (Joan Dixon), an attractive gangster’s moll. And when he learns that Diane is on the hunt for a man with money, well, Joe’s the man for the job.

My favorite part of Roadblock, which I’ve never forgotten in the many years since I first saw this film, is the climax, a car chase filmed in the Los Angeles river bed. It was my introduction to this location; since then, numerous movies have been filmed there, including Them! (1954), Earthquake (1974), Grease (1978), and To Live and Die in L.A. (1985). Roadblock airs December 21st on TCM.

— Dixon had a brief career.

Other Stuff:

Joan Dixon, born Dollie Joan Johnson, had only a brief acting career. Her big screen debut came in the 1950 film Bunco Squad, and she guested on several television series in the late 1950s, including Alfred Hitchcock Presents and Highway Patrol. Her last performance was an uncredited role in the Diana Dors starrer, I Married a Woman (1958). Dixon died of heart disease in 1992 at the age of 61.

Milburn Stone has a small part in the film as an insurance agent. He’s best known for playing “Doc” on the long-running TV series Gunsmoke.

————

Tune into TCM on the 15th and the 21st for Another Language and Roadblock!

Looking for Noir Recommendations?

Hi, all! I was recently a guest on one of my favorite podcasts, Attaboy Clarence, hosted by Adam Roche. I started listening when I got my first iPhone several years ago, and I’ve loved it ever since. In November, I had a blast sharing with Adam five noirs that I think are woefully underrated. I hope you’ll give the podcast a listen, and check out my recommendations. Just click here!

Day 30th of Noirvember: Parting Gifs

I can scarcely believe that another Noirvember — my 10th! — has come to an end. It’s been another great ride, made even more awesome by all of you who commented, read, or even just strolled by on your way elsewhere! I appreciate you so much, one and all. You are the collective cat’s pajamas.

As has become my tradition on the last day of Noirvember, I’m pleased to offer a baker’s dozen of parting gifs from some of my favorite noirs. I hope you enjoy them and I hope to see you around these parts real soon!!

Richard Basehart in He Walked By Night (1948)

Brian Donlevy and Richard Conte in The Big Combo (1955)

Cloris Leachman in Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity (1944)

Ava Gardner and Edmond O’Brien in The Killers (1946)

Humphrey Bogart and Lizabeth Scott in Dead Reckoning (1947)

Mary Astor, Humphrey Bogart, and Peter Lorre in The Maltese Falcon (1941)

Peggy Cummins and John Dall in Gun Crazy (1950)

Helene Stanley in The Asphalt Jungle (1950)

Robert Mitchum and Lillian Gish in The Night of the Hunter (1955)

Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard (1950)

Robert Walker in Strangers on a Train (1951)

Orson Welles in The Third Man (1949)

Until next Noirvember, y’all!

Day 29 of Noirvember: Those Awesome Duos of Noir

All month long this Noirvember, I’ve enjoyed participating in the Noirvember Challenge on Twitter, created by self-described “noircheologist” Kari Hansbarger. Every day during the month, under the #NoirvemberChallenge hashtag, a different category was featured, and interested participants could offer their responses. These included such labels as Favorite Film Noir Director, Coolest Film Noir Character, and Sexiest Film Noir. I participated most days and it’s been a load of fun.

Another category was Favorite Film Noir Duo, and although I made my pick, there were so many to choose from! So for my penultimate Noirvember 2023 post, I’m serving up my Top 10 Favorite Film Noir Duos.

— “Jeepers, I love you, Johnny.”

Kitty “Lazylegs” March and Johnny Prince and from Scarlet Street (1945)

This was the couple that I selected for the Twitter hashtag, and I received numerous replies calling them “scumbags,” “rotten,” and “deliciously unlikeable.” And they weren’t wrong. Kitty was a slob and a liar, and Johnny was a two-bit hood who was too smart for his own good (and didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself).

Annie Laurie Starr and Bart Tare from Gun Crazy (1950)

— “I’m yours and I’m real.”

Bart said it himself – he and Annie went together like guns and ammunition. Once they met, in the words of Max from Hart to Hart, it was MURDER! Actually, that’s not what I was going to write when I started that sentence, but it popped in my head, and I couldn’t help myself. I was going to say, once they met, they couldn’t stay away from each other – even at the bitter, deadly end.

Kathie Moffat and Jeff Bailey from Out of the Past (1947)

For a while, it looked like these crazy kids just might be able to make a go of it. But when Jeff’s ex-partner Fisher showed up and Kathie put a bullet in him – well, that pretty much spelled curtains for the relationship.

— “We’re both rotten.”

Phyllis Dietrichson and Walter Neff from Double Indemnity (1944)

I’m not sure these two even liked each other (no matter how many times he called her “baby.”). But you can’t deny that they made a very effective team. Straight down the line.

Anna Dundee and Steve Thompson from Criss Cross (1949)

Oh, Anna. How could you?

Cora Smith and Frank Chambers from The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946)

I was really rooting for these two, y’all. I mean, they had it all – just like Bogie and Bacall. Starring in their own late, late show, sailing away to Key Largo. Oh, wait . . .

— “You’re strength, excitement, and depravity!”

Helen Brent and Sam Wild from Born to Kill (1947)

Talk about depraved – these two were the walking definition. If anybody deserved each other, it was Helen and Sam.

Debby Marsh and Dave Bannion from The Big Heat (1953)

They weren’t a duo in the usual sense of the word, but I loved them together. They truly had a mutual respect and regard for each other, and I’m glad that Dave was with her at the end. (sniff)

Gilda Mundson and Johnny Farrell from Gilda (1946)

Gilda and Johnny demonstrated on a constant basis that there’s a thin line between love and hate. Fortunately for us, they finally got their act together and erased that line.

— “There I go again. Too friendly.”

Bruno Antony and Guy Haines from Strangers on a Train (1951)

They didn’t like each other, and they certainly didn’t have each other’s best interests at heart. But you can’t think of one without the other, can you?

So that’s my top 10 favorite noir duos. Who are yours? And don’t forget to tell us why!

And join me tomorrow for the last day of Noirvember 2023!!

Day 28 of Noirvember: Happy 100th Birthday, Gloria!

I first met her decades ago as a sassy flirt in the 1946 Christmas classic, It’s a Wonderful Life. Since then, Gloria Grahame has become one of my favorite noir femmes, turning in standout performances in a spate of shadowy classics. Grahame was born Gloria Grahame Hallward in Los Angeles, 100 years ago today – I can’t think of a better time or place than to devote my post on Day 28 of Noirvember to this unforgettable femme.

Gloria was a descendant of royalty – the antecedents of her father, Reginald Michael Hallward, were the Plantagenet kings of England, and her mother, Jean, a former actress, descended from Dougall, King in the south Isles and Lord of Lorn in Scotland. Following in her mother’s footsteps, Gloria made her stage debut at the age of nine, playing a fairy in The Bluebird. In the late 1930s, to give Gloria an opportunity to seek an acting career, her family moved to Hollywood, where she enrolled at the Guy Bates Post School of Dramatic Art and later at Hollywood High School.

In spring 1942, Gloria appeared in a senior class play and was noticed by the critic for the Citizen News, who wrote that she had “all the proper curves in all the proper places, plus a pair of legs that made the movie makers at the senior play goggle their eyes.” Her performance also caught the attention of Howard Lang, producer of the road company of Good Night, Ladies, who offered Gloria a walk-on and understudy role in his play. Arranging to complete her high school degree by mail, Gloria accepted the job and toured with the play to San Francisco and Chicago. After the play closed, Gloria and her mother moved to New York, where the budding actress quickly found work as Miriam Hopkins’s understudy in The Skin of Our Teeth and as a 14-year-old ingenue in the out-of-town tryout of Stardust. In this play, Gloria’s understudy was future star Marie Windsor, who later said, “Gloria and I became friends. I liked her and she always seem a little nicely off-the-wall to me.”

A short time later, Gloria would be handed the break that she’d been patiently awaiting. In her role as a saucy barmaid in A Highland Fling, she was spotted by a talent agent from MGM’s New York office and was signed to a seven-year contract, starting at $250 a week. Her last name, which sounded “too theatrical” to MGM execs, was dropped, and Gloria Grahame was born. She made her film debut a few months later as a flirtatious maid in Blonde Fever (1944), starring Mary Astor. Her third feature film was It’s a Wonderful Life, and the following year, she entered the realm of film noir. She would go on to appear in numerous noirs, including In a Lonely Place (1950), Human Desire (1954), and Odds Against Tomorrow (1959), but my favorites are Sudden Fear (1952) and The Big Heat (1953).

Sudden Fear (1952)

This feature stars Joan Crawford as Myra Hudson, a San Francisco heiress and playwright whose world is rocked when she learns that her adored new husband, Lester (Jack Palance), not only has a chick on the side, but that he and his lover are plotting her imminent demise. Grahame played Irene Nieves, the lover, and she is a standout from the second she appears on screen. Irene is the embodiment of the type of character I love to hate, and she has no qualms about carrying on with a married man. In fact, she and Lester had a thing back in the day and she actually followed him to San Francisco when she learned of his wedding. And speaking of qualms, they were also in short supply when it came to plotting with Lester to kill Myra before her new will could be signed. “Suppose she isn’t able to sign it on Monday? Suppose something happened to her between now and Monday – who’d get her money?” Irene queries. “Lester, I have a gun.”

The Big Heat (1953)

Glenn Ford stars in this film as Dave Bannion, an honest cop who finds himself up against the local mob and his own police force when he tries to find out who was behind the murder of his wife. As Debby Marsh, Grahame was the girlfriend of brutish gangster Vince Stone (Lee Marvin) and started out as a light-hearted, martini-loving gal who was happy just to be in the chips. (“Clothes, travel, expensive excitement – what’s wrong with that? The main thing is to have the money,” she declares. “I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor – believe me, rich is better.”) But when Vince disfigures her by throwing a pot of scalding coffee in her face (a shocking scene that gets me no matter how many times I see it), Debby’s life is changed forever and she winds up being the linchpin that brings “the big heat” to the organized crime organization.

The Big Heat is airing on TCM on Gloria’s birthday, and Sudden Fear can be found for free on YouTube. Why not treat yourself and celebrate her special day by checking out these first-rate Gloria vehicles?

You only owe it to yourself.

And join me tomorrow for Day 29 of Noirvember!