Strange Holiday (1945)

Directed by Arch Oboler; produced by Frank Donovan, Edward Finney and A W Hackel

Returning from a holiday during which he was blissfully out of contact with the rest of the world, John Stevenson (Claude Rains) finds that in two weeks, his world has changed. People are gripped with fear, so scared that they can’t tell him what has happened. Repeated inquiries lead only to his arrest, incarceration and torture. It seems that while he was gone, America was taken over by Fascists…

Despite the intriguing premise that may be conveyed in the first paragraph, Strange Holiday is probably the worst movie I have reviewed on this blog. Rains is the only ‘name’ in the cast of this low-budget production, and he appears to have tailored his performance to his salary. The actor who gave life to rôles in Casablanca and Mr Skeffington, and made someone three-dimensional out of a person audiences couldn’t see in The Invisible Man, is rather awful here. There is no conviction in his acting, which comes across at times as amateurish. The other actors, excepting perhaps Milton Kibbee, as Stevenson’s friend, give mostly wooden performances.

The script is filled with irrelevant and meaningless scenes. Several flashbacks show Stevenson’s life before his arrest, including extended sequences featuring his children. A tedious scene of children decorating a Christmas tree, or giving a school speech, enlightens us not at all as to how things change, nor tells us anything about Stevenson’s family, other than that it includes three kids.

Much of the story has Stevenson roaming a city in which people are, one assumes, ordered home and off the streets, yet there is no mention of a curfew, no signs of troops or police patrolling; shops are not allowed to sell merchandise, though we are not told why. The impression is more of a mediocre episode of tv’s The Twilight Zone than of a realistic coup d’etat. When the explanation comes, it is rushed over a silly montage of marching people and talking mouths.

The production values are very low. Strange Holiday must have had producers from Hollywood’s ‘Poverty Row’ wanting to send it money. Except for a crowd in a school auditorium, the entire cast could have been put in a small bus. This would be fine for an intimate picture imitating a stage-play, but here, I almost expected to see the same people show up with fake moustaches, playing different characters. I had to check to make sure this was not one of Ed Wood’s productions.

Director Oboler made his name in radio - this movie comes from one of his radio scripts – and it is to that medium that he was probably suited; not motion pictures. The direction is sub-standard: everything is pretty obvious, with all the layering of a sheet of paper. Scenes that have no relevance go on far too long, and scenes that should be filled with intent leave the audience wondering what is going on. The denouement is such that I could not determine if it was a twist ending or simply poor editing.

Strange Holiday takes an interesting idea and throws it away through bad writing, bad directing, bad acting, bad editing and bad production values. It’s just a very bad movie.

Gunfighters (1947)

Directed by George Wagner; produced by Harry Joe Brown

Brazos Kane (Randolph Scott) has become known for his quick draw. His fame - or infamy - is so great that even his best friend needs to know whether he can be beaten. Having had enough of shootings, Kane throws away his revolvers and tries to live a peaceable life. That’s tough to do when the next town he enters is riddled with murders, conflict and treachery.

Though Scott had of course been in westerns prior to Gunfighters, it was about this time that he made a conscious decision to make movies only in that genre. This would culminate in a number of excellent films starring Scott and directed by Budd Boetticher, though others were also of quality, including Scott’s final film, Ride the High Country. Gunfighters is, however, a rather mediocre introduction to this energetic period of Scott’s career.

It is not that Gunfighters is a bad movie; it simply doesn’t stand out, even with the dependable Scott in the lead, creating his usual sympathetic and likeable character. The story begins as if it is to focus on Kane’s moral dilemma - to fight or not to fight - but the rest of it only touches on that incidentally. The plot is a fairly standard one of a greedy land-owner seeking to increase his holdings. But even in this aspect, Gunfighters isn’t very clear: there is no set of opponents for the villain to intimidate, and those he does oppose don’t seem intent on changing the landscape and thus depriving anyone of their riches.

There is some good work by the actors. Barbara Britton and Dorothy Hart play a pair of sisters who manage to maintain a loving relationship while being quite different, and pursuing mutually hostile goals. Charles Kemper admirably plays a sheriff trying to outride his principles. But the other actors are hampered by indefinite characters. Forrest Tucker appears as Ben Orcutt, a gunslinger/assassin, but his character doesn’t seem to have been brought in for any purpose, since the big landowner’s locals enemies are easily handled by his men, and Orcutt arrives too soon after Kane to have been summoned to deal with him.

The action is adequate but not outstanding. There is a good horse-chase sequence near the beginning and an attempt to trample someone with a horse - these suggesting that the wranglers on the set were good and well-used - but the climax is nothing special. There are the usual bullet-wounds that are cured with a bandage or a sling, but that is standard for movies of the period.

Gunfighters is a blandly-named, ordinary western, and not indicative of the better films that would soon round out Randolph Scott’s catalogue.

L.A. Confidential (1997)

Directed by Curtis Hanson; produced by Curtis Hanson, Arnon Milchan and Michael Nathanson

In early 1950s Los Angeles, three policemen - ruthlessly ambitious Edmund Exley (Guy Pearce), celebrity Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey) and muscleman Bud White (Russell Crowe) - become involved in separate investigations that aren’t what they seem. As the men delve further, they realise that their cases may all be tied to the city’s drug-trade, left up for grabs by an underworld power-vacuum. The trio reluctantly work together - overseen by the enigmatic Captain Dudley Smith (James Cromwell) - as they discover secrets in their city, and within themselves.

An excellent neo-noir film, L.A. Confidential puts a complex plot and detailed characters into a convincing setting, with superb results. The first element one notices is the casting and the acting. The three leads are thoroughly convincing. (I’d read that Pearce initially showed up for his audition wearing longish hair and casual clothes; he returned after a mediocre reading with his hair cut short, wearing glasses and a suit. Everyone then knew he was Exley.)

The performances cannot be improved upon, especially Spacey’s and Pearce’s, while it was vital that Cromwell’s, though less front and centre, be spot-on, as he needs to show certain sides to his character that only eventually come to light. Crowe’s acting is quieter, as befits his character, which makes his bursts of violence more startling. Kim Basinger has a significant rôle, and does well with it.

Mention must also be made of the supporting actors, even the bit players. They seem to have been chosen as much for their physiques as anything else. Many of the detectives are middle-aged and paunchy, giving the impression of men who, having secured their coveted positions, now have tenure, and nothing short of a publicly committed crime will evict them. The police force is made to look a closed shop, a caste, with all that implies.

The writing is very good. The screenplay was co-written by the director and Brian Helgeland, from James Ellroy’s novel. The dialogue is not so necessary for its words, as for what the words convey. There are numerous fine scenes, especially those when each of the three lead characters discuss the reasons they became policemen, and realise how far they have strayed from their original intents; Spacey’s moment in this regard is particularly memorable.

There is a large dollop of irony spread through the story, as the characters confront the consequences of their actions, or inactions, each having done something they intensely regret, and then try to make good. How Bud White’s violent nature betrays him, and how Exley determines that justice is better than his career are good examples. Also, notable is the way the trio start to work together, despite disliking each other, gaining respect for each other and themselves as they go. And for irony - coming with particularly bad timing for one character - one can’t beat the way Exley finally answers the questions Smith asks him at the film’s start.

There is verisimilitude in the writing, as well. All the cops appear either to know each other, at least in passing, or of each other. This reinforces the feeling, mentioned above, that the police department is a relatively small club.

The direction is the least conspicuous aspect of the movie, I think, though, like all good direction, is indispensable. This is probably Hanson’s best work, though Wonder Boys, his follow-up film, comes close. He creates wonderfully tense scenes, some involving confrontation with and without violence, and the climax is exciting, and gives no clue as to how it will end. (Hanson’s writing work includes the excellent The Silent Partner, reviewed on this blog in September, 2019; Never Cry Wolf, and the widely-misinterpreted White Dog.)

For its story, its writing, its acting, its direction, and its themes of corruption, comradeship and redemption, L.A. Confidential is one of my favourite movies.

Desperate (1947)

Directed by Anthony Mann; produced by Michel Kraike

Steve Randall (Steve Brodie) has a life on the upswing: a new and pretty wife (Audrey Long), his own truck for hauling cargo and, though he doesn’t know it yet, a baby on the way. But a call from old acquaintance Walt Radak (Raymond Burr) changes that. Radak coerces Randall into moving stolen goods and though Randall manages to warn the police, a cop is killed by Radak’s brother, who soon faces the death penalty. In revenge, Radak chases Randall and his wife across the country, and their only hope is in staying one step ahead of the murderous hunter.

A neat little film noir that relies on the tension generated by the direction and acting more than anything else, Desperate benefits from the talents of director Mann early in his career. Another early Mann movie was Two O’Clock Courage, reviewed on this blog recently. As in that picture, Mann is given a script with nothing spectacular and manages to create a number of good scenes. One may notice a use of close-ups here that was not common in 1947, at least in B-movies. Light and shadow are effectively utilised, as well.

With regard to acting, leading man Brodie is capable but rather bland. That this was recognised at the time may be evinced by the fact that Desperate is his only starring role, all others relegating him to supporting parts, though substantial, in many cases.

The honours for creating an impression here go to Burr as the villain. He specialised in bad guys, probably cast so because of his deep voice, height and girth - though he convincingly played a hero in Please Murder Me (1956). In Desperate, he makes another menacing crook realistic. (Interestingly, he and Brodie re-united thrice in episodes of Burr’s tv series, Perry Mason.)

Jason Robards Sr (credited, of course, without the qualifier) has a good part as the police detective who knows Randall is innocent of deliberate involvement in crimes, but uses him, to an extent, to run down the real culprits. In a number of similar low-budget B-movies, it is the secondary characters that add interest, and keep the film going. Desperate is no exception.

The script and story are fairly ordinary, and there is no feeling of time or distance in a story that covers months and thousands of miles. This is a problem more to do with the writing than the direction, and removes a dimension to the tale.

All in all, Desperate is a good if not very good crime story, its quality improved by some good service provided by the supporting actors and the director.