The Battle of the River Plate (1956)

Directed and produced by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger

At the start of World War Two, Germany began its strategy of starving its principal enemy by destroying the ships bringing food and resources to the British Isles. Along with its submarine force, the German Navy used surface raisers. The most dangerous was the ‘pocket battleship’ Admiral Graf Spee. The Royal Navy made it a priority to destroy the ship.

An exciting and, in some ways, unconventional action movie, The Battle of the River Plate is sometimes considered Powell and Pressburger’s most under-rated film. It’s a shame that the film isn’t more widely known, as it is a typically detailed, accurate, well-written and well-directed example of the duo’s art.

It may be that the structure of the film is not to what modern audiences seeking an action flick are accustomed. What many might consider the climax - the actual battle - comes in the middle of the movie. The combat between the powerful Graf Spee and the three British ships (HMS Ajax, Achilles and Exeter) - though more numerous, substantially weaker - is involving and tense. After this, the suspense switches from action to a more subtle form of psychology, and what will happen next is unknown - at least to those not versed in naval history.

Another unusual aspect of the battle sequence is that it is shown only from the viewpoint of the British involved - the ships’ crews and those Britons held prisoner (from ships the Graf Spee had sunk) in the German ship. This is not bias, but accuracy. There would have been much more difficulty in learning and verifying the German point of view at the time the movie was made than the British. Incidentally, it lends tension, as the audience, like the British officers, can only deduce and surmise what the German captain is or will be doing.

There is also the drama ashore, as the British and Germans both try to influence events and people, particularly the amiable but deceptively tough Uruguayan foreign minister. The machinations of diplomacy and secret service are enough to warrant a movie to themselves.

The typical detail of an Archers (as the pair were known) movie is present. The boredom of being on watch when nothing is happening, the reactions of sailors to words and deeds - especially the less urgent - of the officers, and the banter among the crews, are all well illustrated. Having three British ships involved allowed the captains and their crews to provide differing responses to events, each adding information to the viewers’ interpretation. Meanwhile, on the German ship, the principal British prisoner, merchant seaman Captain Dove, gives commentary to events from that viewpoint. It has been stated that while the officers on the British ships were the brains in the movie, Dove was the heart, giving a stern yet also sympathetic reaction to the Germans.

(The surface ships of the German Navy were often accorded respect by their opponents that the more predatory and ruthless submarine service was not. Langsdorff, the Graf Spee’s captain was in real-life universally respected and admired, and his officers appeared sympathetic to the plight of their captives: note the enthusiasm with which one of them announces that the prisoners would soon be released at a neutral port.)

The acting is very good, involving some well-known players in large and small roles, though, as is always the case in action films, especially those depicting real-life history, character takes a back seat. Peter Finch conveys the pride, determination, courtesy and frustration of Langsdorff, while Anthony Quayle portrays Commodore Harwood, in command of the British squadron, with less depth. John Gregson has a major part as captain of the Exeter, and Bernard Lee is suitably gruff but caring as Dove. Patrick MacNee, John Le Mesurier, Nigel Stock, Donald Moffat, Christopher Lee, Anthony Newley and Barry Foster all have small roles. Jack Gwillim must have known his part well: he played the captain of the Achilles, and had turned actor only after twenty years in the Royal Navy, during which he attained the rank of commander. David Farrar narrates.

The semi-documentary realism and straightforward, convincing acting often found in 1940s and ‘50s British films depicting recent history is prominent in The Battle of the River Plate. It is combined with the quality direction, writing, production and acting always to be had in Powell and Pressburger movies. The result is an excellent war film illustrating a relatively unknown part of World War Two.

The Boss (1956)

Directed by Byron Haskin; produced by Frank N Seltzer

Matt Brady (John Payne) is an abrasive, hard-drinking, iron-fisted veteran of the Great War, who inherits his brother’s political influence when the latter, Tim (Roy Roberts), dies. While Tim was a benevolent ward-boss, Matt has immense ambitions, and no limit to the actions or behaviour that he will use to achieve them.

While The Boss is a mildly entertaining film, I couldn’t help seeing it as a poor man’s All the King’s Men, which was released seven years earlier. While the latter builds its main character and the premise of the movie over the whole running time, The Boss presents a ready-made corrupt politician, with much of his deal-making and strong-arm machine already in place. In other words, instead of seeing what brought Brady to where he is, we see him already there.

This is a problem with the writing, which gives us short-cuts (as one may view them) providing the character with his corruption already formed, then compounds the issue by having Brady soften as he ages, which usually is not the case with authoritarians. It’s true that his machinations and decadence increase as the story progresses, but he himself develops scruples (or, perhaps, finds them maintained from some earlier point in his life). He eventually reaches the stage at which he is almost sympathetic to those who want to bring him down.

The soft-pedalling of the main character, and its effect on the rest of the movie, is rather mysterious, considering the co-writer (uncredited due to his blacklisting) was Dalton Trumbo, the man behind the scripts for Spartacus, Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, A Guy Named Joe, Gun Crazy, and other hits. Perhaps the other writer, Ben Perry, is the blame, though there is no proof of this.

Payne (who was also an uncredited producer) does a good job in the lead role, but portrays such an unlikeable character - filling much of the movie with contemptuous sneers and insults - that he creates no sympathy. Nor does he build much hatred, since the character is fairly one-dimensional (another issue of the writing.) There is no motive given for Brady’s insatiable ambition, nor for his retention of the burdensome wife (Gloria McGhee) he marries when drunk, so he comes across more as a caricature than a character - well played but too broad for the viewer’s interest.

The other characters are even less fleshed out than Brady. William Bishop plays Brady’s crooked attorney; though not the stereotypical shyster, he introduces another problem when his final action in the movie comes without precedent. The rest of the cast is mainly unknown even to movie-fans, except perhaps supporting player Rhys Williams as a crusading lawyer (he played James Cagney’s opportunistic accomplice in Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye, reviewed on this blog last month) and Joe Flynn in a very early part.

While an adequate time-filler, The Boss is rather a generic entry in the corrupt politician genre, a pale version of better movies.

Off Beat (1986)

Directed by Michael Dinner; produced by Harry J Ufland

Joe Gower (Judge Reinhold) works at the New York Pubic Library finding patrons’ requests in the rare book stacks in the basement. When he inadvertently ruins an undercover operation for his policeman friend, Abe (Cleavant Derricks), the latter is ‘volunteered’ by his superiors to participate in a police charity dance event. In turn, Abe ‘volunteers’ Joe to impersonate him temporarily - to make up for Joe’s faux pas. All he has to do is fail the audition and both will be off the hook. But, needled by the attitude of an abrasive fellow participant (Joe Mantegna), and interested in a pretty policewoman, Rachel (Meg Tilly), Joe stays - pretending to be Abe, pretending to be a cop and pretending that he's not in over his head.

A slight comedy, Off Beat benefits from the likeability of Reinhold, and the support of a large number of recognizable faces, some belonging to actors at the beginnings of their careers. There are no laugh-out-loud moments, though a number of amusing situations crop up. The romance aspect of the movie is likewise lukewarm, though it helps that Reinhold and Tilly make a good couple.

The problem with the writing is that it doesn’t make as much of either the comedy or the romance as it could. The main crisis for the latter is, of course, Joe’s pretence of being a policeman: Rachel doesn’t want to fall in love with a cop, but since what he seems to be is a lie, Joe faces a dilemma. This is handled well, but the attraction between the two leads is too pat, too routine, and we don’t see them falling in love; they simply are suddenly at that stage. As well, the comedic situation, while funny, has the potential for much greater humour than it uses.

In other regards, the story calls upon the audience to suspend its disbelief rather strongly. There would be little success in real-life for a Joe Gower to impersonate a cop, wearing a uniform in public and mixing socially with other cops. These problems are used in the script, but, again, the viewer must be willing to treat the situations with a considerable block of salt.

As well, one wonders why, if failing the audition is all that is required for Abe to get out of his assignment to the dance production, why he doesn’t just show up himself and fail. Mantegna’s character is far too volatile - even abusive - for a hostage negotiator, even if he did cheat during his training. And really, one doesn’t expect the character to want to be a hostage negotiator.

On the subject of acting, Mantegna gives a creditable try at comedy, though he’s not really cut out for it. He seems still to be searching for his niche, which he would find the next year when he connected with David Mamet for House of Games. Other actors, familiar from the past and present, include John Turturro (also not quite comfortable here), John Kapelos, William Sadler, James Tolkan (on target here, a year after his most recognizable role in Back to the Future), Anthony Zerbe, Chris Noth, Penn Jillette (the speaking half of Penn & Teller), Mike Starr, Fyvush Finkel, Austin Pendleton, Fred Gwynne and, of all people, Harvey Keitel. Unintentionally, Off Beat sometimes provides entertainment in its who’s who of noted names.

Over all, despite the occasional obscenity, Off Beat is a rather gentle comedy, with a few serious moments, such as when Joe talks about his family’s expectations for him, and his realization that he was not meant for firearms. Its premise, handled adequately but not excellently, is helped by good performances, but doesn’t quite fulfill its promise.

Circle of Danger (1951)

Directed by Jacques Tourneur; produced by Joan Harrison and David E Rose

After several years earning a tidy sum in salvage, former U.S. Navy sailor Clay Douglas (Ray Milland) travels to Britain. His goal is to learn about the death of his brother, Hank, who, in 1940, had joined the British Army and been the only casualty in an otherwise successful and unspectacular commando raid. As he interviews those who knew his sibling, it becomes clear to Douglas that Hank’s death was not as straightforward as many would like him to believe.

There is a mystery in Circle of Danger, but it eventually becomes clear that it is not an exciting one. The interlude of five years or so between the end of the Second World War and the start of Douglas’s quest almost sets the tone for the film: slow, leisurely, and without urgency. The audience soon learns that, despite the title, there is no danger to the protagonist, or to anyone else, except for an unconvincing dab in the finale. The movie is, in fact, boring.

The puzzling aspect about Circle of Danger is why it is boring. The director has done other, good work; Tourneur famously crafted the atmospheric Cat People, and Out of the Past is reckoned by many to be one of the best films noir. None of Tourneur’s talent is particularly evident in Circle of Danger.

Writer Philip MacDonald wrote The Body Snatcher, and adapted the novel Rebecca for the screen: two different movies, both successful. Yet there is no suspense here; Douglas’s peregrinations about Great Britain are more along the lines of a travelogue than a drama. The story itself is a good one, or might have been, if handled better, but the screenplay is bland. The running joke of Douglas being late for his dates with new-found love-interest, Elspeth (Patricia Roc), is tedious, as is her pointless hay fever.

I had the feeling that this was made largely for an American market, with Douglas travelling to Wales, with its stereotypical coal mine, and to Scotland with its lochs and white heather. Then, in London, he visits the Thames and Covent Garden Market, and tries to figure out English money. Most Britons in the film are effusive in their praise of the U.S. and Americans. Though filmed on location, and by a British company, the movie is like one made by a Hollywood crew on a field-trip.

The acting is certainly good. Milland is as likeable a leading man as a movie could want, and is in fine form in thrillers such as The Ministry of Fear, and The Big Clock. Here, he appears a little too snide, perhaps too confident. He is ably supported by Hugh Sinclair as a vaguely misleading Scottish laird, and Marius Goring as an impresario no one would guess used to be a commando. Particularly interesting is Naunton Wayne, cast as a dark and repulsive version of his popular Caldicott character from other films. But ‘good’ and ‘interesting’ don’t make the characters very watchable.

It seems almost as if the movie’s elements, represented by its leading lights, got in each other’s way. The writing couldn’t overcome the story, the story was left limp by the direction, the acting didn’t propel the story… In the end, Circle of Danger has become a plodding tour of Britain, glimpsing the natives at their daily jobs, and leading to a conclusion that is itself mildly implausible.

The Night My Number Came Up (1955)

Directed by Leslie Norman; produced by Michael Balcon

When a Royal Air Force passenger aircraft disappears over Japan on a routine flight, a search is mounted, but with no success and decreasing hope. A naval commander (Michael Hordern) intercedes with a frantic plea - literally inexplicble - to look in a region the aeroplane was unlikely to have flown over. As the search continues, we learn the events leading the possible crash, and the people involved.

The Night My Number Came Up doesn’t really have a right to be an entertaining movie. What has happened to the aeroplane is not really much of a secret; it takes place in the present (1955) and therefore in peace-time, so there is no chance of it having been shot down; there is no international chicanery or sabotage. It’s not, therefore, a mystery. Most of the story is told in flashback, so there is a kind of pre-destination to the whole affair. Yet it still manages to be exciting and interesting.

The secret is, I think, in the acting and the script, the latter of which manages to make details significant, while the former keeps the viewer involved. The screenplay, by R C Sherriff (from a story by Victor Goddard), manages cleverly to create a number of crises without making them seem repetitious or tedious, or making the viewer believe that he’s been fooled. It also builds suspense in the collection of various events that combine to persuade various passengers of the aeroplane that danger is increasing.

This sense of danger is communicated to the audience through the fine acting of the cast. Hordern, despite his character’s significance, plays a relatively small part, the larger being given to Michael Redgrave as a senior air force officer, Alexander Knox as a middle-level colonial official, and Denholm Elliott as a young officer suffering from latent battle fatigue.

Mention must also be made of Sheila Sim, whose character is somewhat in ignorance of events, and Nigel Stock as a pilot. Each brings his or her own reaction to what is happening, or what might happen, and this leads both to conflict and interest. As well, none, except perhaps the brash businessman Bennett (George Rose), is a stereotype, most giving evidence of his humanity and limits.

This was the director’s second feature film after his debut (as co-director) sixteen years before, and he does a good job of it. Norman takes what might very well could have been a stage-play (perhaps Sherriff’s influence) and breaks up the claustrophobic scenes in the aeroplane with interludes on the ground. These serve as rests between the stretches of tension. Norman later directed Dunkirk (1958), which remains the best film about that battle.

For a movie that involves a missing air force aeroplane but isn’t a war film, that makes the fate of that aeroplane uncertain but isn’t a mystery, that is set largely in one location but isn’t stagey, The Night My Number Came Up is remarkably and, perhaps surprisingly, successful.

Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye (1950)

Directed by Gordon Douglas; produced by William Cagney

With the help of a guard, Ralph Cotter escapes from the prison farm to which he had been sent. The only problem is his fellow prisoner (Neville Brand), who is wounded. Cotter kills him and escapes alone. Once outside, he quickly commits a series of crimes, from armed robbery to assault to blackmail, all the time building to bigger and more dangerous felonies. What will stop him and who will be hurt in the process?

While an entertaining gangster film, Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye has some flaws, and for unusual reasons. Watching the movie, I had the feeling that it was almost a throwback to Cagney’s earlier films, like The Public Enemy. There was something too routine about Cotter’s successes. They are not, in fact, portrayed to be as simple as this criticism implies, but they come across as such.

As well, this was surely a rôle meant for a younger actor. Cagney was fifty years old at the time, and a prison record states his character’s age as 37. Another character refers to Cotter as a young man. And the ease with which he romances not one but two women, both in their twenties, is rather unrealistic, despite the appeal that Cagney could exude on-screen.

Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye is - perhaps unfairly - sometimes compared to White Heat, the star’s very memorable 1949 movie. Though I always prefer to review a film on its own merits, a comparison - or, rather, a contrast - of the two is, I think, appropriate. Though made a year earlier, White Heat portrays Cagney’s character, Cody Jarrett, as an aging gangster. His hold over his girl (Virginia Mayo) is tenuous, and the very first scene is directed in a way to emphasise the older man that Cagney has become. This quality is worked to advantage in the immature dependence of Jarrett upon his mother, and the worsening of his personality through time.

Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye, on the other hand, has the actor, now a year older, playing a younger man, with less success. The choice of rôle for Cagney was odd, considering his desire at the time not to be further typecast in cinema. The fact that his production company had debts to pay off may have influenced his decision.

Other elements of the movie are decent, including the acting. Ward Bond has a good role; often he portrays a slightly comic authority figure. Here, he is a dangerously corrupt cop who becomes malleable under extortion. Luther Adler has probably the best part, as an attorney who is more than a little shady. Cagney’s brother, William, the producer, plays Cotter’s brother in the last scene, and, as mentioned, Neville Brand has uncredited work, early in his career.

The direction is workmanlike, but close, even claustrophobic, in some instances. This, too, gives the feeling of an earlier motion picture, from the time when every scene was shot on a sound stage. The ending comes a little out of nowhere and, though not unsatisfactory, could have had some foreshadowing.

Over all, Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye is an enjoyable crime-flick, but seems almost dated and ordinary, like an average script turned into a movie because nothing else was available.