The Turning Point (1952)

Directed by William Dieterle; produced by Irving Asher

Amid great fanfare, John Conroy (Edmond O’Brien) arrives in his home town to set up a commission to fight organised crime, specifically the racket run by Neil Eichelberger (Ed Begley). Conroy brings in childhood pal, now a tough and cynical reporter, Jerry McKibbon (William Holden), to help him, along with his own policeman father (Tom Tully). What he doesn’t know, but McKibbon quickly suspects, is that Conroy Senior isn’t really on the side of law and order.

Though the plot reads like standard crime-story fare, The Turning Point rises above the average with excellent direction and fine acting. I think the director is surprisingly little known, considering the quality of much of his work - The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1939), Love Letters (1945), The Portrait of Jennie (1948) – and with whom he worked - numerous times with Jennifer Jones, Paul Muni, Joseph Cotton. (He’d worked with both The Turning Point’s leading men previously.) He began as an actor in Germany, slipped into directing in his native country and eventually returned to finish his career there. By 1952, Dieterle’s best work was behind him, but The Turning Point shows in small measure what he can do.

There is good use of tension throughout the film, such as when some minutes are spent on showing villains torching an apartment building to destroy evidence. The climax is exciting, with an assassin (Neville Brand) tracking his victim at a crowded boxing match.

The script is better than the story. It keeps the viewer guessing as to the outcome. Furthermore, though the investigation in the film seems to rely on information dropping into its lap, the writing shows how one step – or misstep – by the villains leads to another, and how the good guys make use of the propensity of the amoral and immoral to betray one another. In addition, it realistically shows Conroy and McKibbon trading characteristics, as the optimist loses faith, and the cynic regains it.

An oddity, not the fault of the writing, is that O’Brien’s Conroy is implied to be inexperienced in combating crime, a “kid”, as McKibbon calls him, and naïve. McKibbon, on the other hand, plays his mentor, someone who’s seen it all. The casting was, perhaps, mixed up: O’Brien was 37 at the time and looked a bit older; Holden was 34, and looked younger. Tully was but seven years senior to the man portraying his son. This strange element should not detract from the movie, however: the actors are good enough to make themselves believable in their rôles.

(On the subject of roles, Carolyn Jones has her first part in a movie as a blonde gangster’s moll, Russell Johnson (some years away from Gilligan’s Island) and Whit Bissell also have bit parts.)

As well, the movie takes place in an unnamed “mid-western” city, yet use is made of the famous Angels Flight railway in Los Angeles (also seen in Night Has a Thousand Eyes, reviewed on this blog in May.) How viewers could not place the setting on America’s west coast is a mystery.

Regardless of flaws, most of which are unimportant, The Turning Point is an entertaining crime drama, well-acted, well-directed, and undeservedly as little known as its director.

Blood on the Moon (1948)

Directed by Robert Wise; produced by Theron Warth

Jim Garry (Robert Mitchum) is a cowboy seemingly roaming through the rangelands, but in fact on his way to meet his old associate Tate Riling (Robert Preston), who has a deal for him. The deal is one not really to Garry’s liking: a complicated scheme to buy a huge herd of cattle at a discount price, then sell it at premium. The trouble is that the plan depends on starting a war between ranchers and homesteaders, a war that won’t be free of casualties for long.

Blood on the Moon is a superior western for all the right reasons. The actors are all well-cast and very good in their rôles. Mitchum had been putting in his hours as a supporting actor and minor leading man for years but the late 1940s saw his star start to ascend fast. His quiet demeanour and often unchanging expression are perfect for the lone-cowboy part, while Preston’s charm is put to as good use as a villain as it is when he’s a hero.

Mention must be made of Barbara Bel Geddes who, though never a big star, has the proper combination of innocence and tenacity to play the female lead here. Phyllis Thaxter, as Bel Geddes’s character’s sister, is also key to the plot, and does well.

The secondary characters, portrayed by, among others, Tom Tully, Walter Brennan and Charles McGraw (that gravelly-voiced player will keep you guessing whether he’s a good guy or not) make less of an impact, as their personalities are not as important as their deeds. A number of character-actors, soon to be better known in the western genre, such as Iron Eyes Cody and Harry Carey Jr, also contribute.

The story is better than that of many westerns which, despite a fondness for the genre, I must admit are usually of the simplest. Thanks to the villains’ scheme, and the moves made against it, the plot is a relatively complicated one; this is one of the reasons why Blood on the Moon has been called a ‘western film-noir’, and perhaps why Mitchum is so successful in it. The script itself, by Lillie Hayward, is also commendable. Hayward, who started writing in one form or another for movies in 1924, penned mostly minor works and eventually went to work principally for Disney, writing the original Shaggy Dog (1959). Blood on the Moon is probably her best work.

Robert Wise had been showing his skill as a director for a few years prior to Blood on the Moon, and he would go on to bigger budgets and greater acclaim. Nonetheless, this film demonstrates his talent behind the camera. There are a number of telling scenes, from the actionful (the fist-fight that demolishes the interior of a saloon is both exciting and realistic) to the small and quiet, that make for a good motion picture.

One of the better but inexplicably lesser known westerns, Blood on the Moon is an enjoyable film that bears watching more than once.

Gulltransporten (a.k.a. Gold Run) (2022)

Directed by Hallvard Bræin; produced by Kjetil Omberg and Jørgen Storm Rosenberg

In April, 1940, without a declaration of war, Germany invaded Norway. In addition to attempts to seize the King and his government, the Germans hoped to capture the country’s gold reserves, which would have gone far to finance their war effort. The transport of the gold to safety in Britain was entrusted to Fredrik Haslund (Jon Øigarden), the secretary of the Labour Party’s parliamentary group. A methodical bureaucrat, Haslund has little but his determination and organizational experience – and a fortuitously collected group of helpers – to achieve his goal.

I enjoy seeing movies about largely unknown bits of history, and Gulltransporten certainly fits the bill. Unfortunately, it did not quite give the episode the treatment it deserved, which is strange, considering the drama that the adventure must have realised.

The fault for the mediocrity of the film lies, I think, not with the acting. Everyone does well in their roles, especially Øigarden in the lead. Anatole Taubman, as the German Army officer leading the hunt for the gold, displays a good combination of malevolence, frustration and weariness that seems to imply annoyance in his assignment. Morten Svartveit as famed Norwegian poet Nordahl Grieg, and Ida Elise Broch as Haslund’s sister, Nini, who joins the evasion, are fine as well.

As is often the case, it is the small signs and short moments that convey much, as when Sven Nordin, portraying burly worker Odd Henry, expresses his patriotism in the look of disgust he gives German aeroplanes flying overhead, and his awkward removal of his cap in the presence of the King.

The story is an exciting one, and seems to parallel reality closely, the escape of the gold not being a neat loading onto a single ship, but involving several attempts at several ports, a hazardous train-ride and a motor convoy up coastal roads. But the script is lackluster. At one point, Haslund is confronted with the question as to why he – essentially a high-level clerk - was chosen to lead the mission. This question, of interest to the viewer and possibly important to the plot, is not answered. As well, Nini’s description of her brother’s meticulousness might seem to be pertinent to the story, but nothing comes of it. The periodic comic relief afforded by a timid bank teller (Axel Bøyum) paired with Odd Henry in the adventure does not really fit the film.

The direction is adequate, making good use of computerised effects and pyrotechnics, yet nonetheless does not create the suspense that it should. There are no moments that make the viewer sit forward in tension, though the same viewer could probably point out which moments they should have been.

While Gulltransporten is a satisfactory film, it could have been better. It certainly could not have been improved with a bigger budget, or more battle scenes; it should never have been a block-buster. On the other hand, a more defined script - with something to say about the characters as much as the action – along with stronger direction, would have made it memorable.

The Naked Alibi (1954)

Directed by Jerry Hopper; produced by Ross Hunter

Al Willis (Gene Barry) is arrested for being drunk and disorderly; a seemingly average citizen, he nonetheless assaults Lieutenant Parks (Casey Adams), the arresting officer, and swears revenge. After Willis is released, Parks is murdered, and two of his associates are later also killed. Chief of Detectives Joe Conroy (Sterling Hayden) is convinced that Willis is to blame and pursues him to such an extent that he is fired. Even so, Conroy continues his hunt, and finds that Willis is not the unassuming family man he seems.

Naked Alibi has a number of positive elements, principal among these being the acting. Hayden is usually good as a tough guy, committed to something, whether it is justice or revenge or a million dollars. Gloria Grahame, as a gangster girl, is also good, though she is given a pretty standard role. It’s Barry who has the best role, and who gives the best performance. He makes the viewer sympathetic for his plight - an ordinary man wrongly pursued by the police for something of which he is innocent - and then turns the sympathy on its head when his real character is revealed.

Unfortunately, the acting is in aid of a mediocre script and story. Willis’s initial arrest is arbitrary and serves the purpose only of getting the tale started. While the actors’ work convinces us that Willis can be leading a double life, the story doesn’t succeed in telling us why he leads it. He seems genuinely pleased with his quiet existence as a baker, husband and father, even taking a small delight in decorating a cake. Yet we learn that Willis is actually a minor criminal mastermind, with murderous tendencies.

Did he take up residence in an anonymous city to evade justice? If so, going so far as to marry and have a family seems not only extreme but time consuming. He must have been years building that disguise, all the while sneaking away to return to another, more criminal setting. Motivation for hiding out is present; for living a whole different reality is not. Nor does his complete transformation of character from one sphere to another ring true.

As well, Hayden’s character is rather unpleasant. Though a fine actor, his criminals often seem to be more sympathetic than his authority figures. When there is no evidence against Willis, Conroy nevertheless hounds him obsessively, at times physically knocking him about. By the end, he is not sorry for his behaviour, nor is the message given that brutality is a bad thing. One sympathises with the cause but not with the character.

The production values are low. Though set in a city - unnamed - with a police force large enough to have captains (one of whom is played by a young Chuck Connors) and a chief of detectives, as well as a separate homicide squad, the few exterior views of the city show what seems no more than a large town; its principal square looks downright suburban with a pleasant park in its centre. The same square conveniently has a bakery and a church, both of which figure prominently in the movie, as neighbours. (It also has a bus station with a sign that reads ‘To the Busses’; apparently, there’s a kissing booth…)

The border town to which Willis resorts - a border town which is actually called Border Town - is equally inexpensive in appearance. The low budget of Naked Alibi is at odds with those of other Hayden movies of the this period.

Though Naked Alibi has some enjoyable aspects, over all it has a cheap, quick look to the sets, and a rushed quality to the script, that negates the quality acting.