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.

In a World... (2013)

Directed and produced by Lake Bell

Carol Solomon (Lake Bell) is a voice-artist in Los Angeles. Her speciality is accents, but she would like to move into bigger things, including movie-trailer voice-overs. Her father, Sam Soto (Fred Melamed), discourages her, perhaps out of fear, since he is the current dominant voice of movie-trailers, and he knows his daughter is very talented. When she breaks into the field, however, the offers start coming, culminating in a contest for the coveted narration for a film ‘quadrilogy’ that pits Carol against her father and an established but younger voice, Gustav Warner (Ken Marino).

A funny and intelligent comedy, In a World… is set in the professional field of the voice-artist. The title refers to the phrase that became the trademark of Don LaFontaine, the real-life ‘king of the voice-overs’, who, in his something like 5,000 movie-trailer projects often used the phrase to establish a setting quickly and succinctly (“In a world where the rich rule everything…”, “In a world where the law is dog eat dog…” etc.) The movie cleverly begins with an excerpt from a fake documentary about LaFontaine, which mixes genuine clips of that man with others of fictional characters. It thus does what LaFontaine’s famous words do, and immediately establishes the setting, while introducing some of the characters.

The smart opening is typical of Bell’s writing. The subject is clearly one she knows well; her fluid use of accents in the movie shows her professional origins. (She flawlessly portrayed an Englishwoman in 2015’s Man Up, reviewed on this blog in July, 2023.) Carol’s constant trick of surreptitiously recording odd voices and unusual dialects for her archives is probably no more than an obvious version of what Bell has done herself.

In a World… manages to combine several genres (family relationships, romantic comedy, underdog against establishment) without falling into the clichés of any. The characters are especially well-handled, avoiding stereotypes and creating full personalities. This can be seen particularly in the minor characters, as it often is in films. Sam’s girlfriend, Jamie (Alexandra Holden), though a year younger than Sam’s younger daughter, is no gold-digger and genuinely has affection for Sam, though she’s not oblivious to his faults. Carol’s sister, Dani (Michaela Watkins), and brother-in-law, Moe (Rob Corddry), are also well-written.

The acting brings the screenplay to life. Bell herself creates a diffident character struggling to apply what is clearly a great talent; Carole’s combination of intelligence, modesty, wit and compassion makes her hard to resist. She is backed up (in a couple of senses of the word) by several good and supportive friends. Melamed makes Sam amusing, annoying, childish and vain, but never unrealistic. Except for Geena Davis, who has a small rôle as a movie executive, and bit parts for Eva Longoria (as herself) and Cameron Diaz (possibly as herself, playing the tribal leader in the preview of the fictional movie The Amazon Games), the actors will likely be unknown to the audience; they bring a fresh look, despite the fact that one suspects they’ve been in the industry most of their lives.

The direction is good, with nothing extraordinary attempted; instead, straightforward story-telling is used. Bell is generous in her allotment of time to characters other than her own, allowing the movie to be propelled from several view-points. This is smart, as Carol’s own view is circumscribed by her as yet limited contacts in the business.

A fun, mature, clever comedy that avoids the superiority that sometimes comes from an ‘insider’s’ vantage point on a subject, In a World… will entertain and satisfy.

Carve Her Name With Pride (1958)

Directed by Lewis Gilbert; produced by Daniel M Angel

In the middle of World War Two, young Violette Szabo (Virginia McKenna) is contacted by a covert arm of the War Office, who are impressed with her French language and athletic skills. After some reluctance, she agrees to join the department, which, among other things, assists the resistance movement in occupied France. She turns out to have a talent for the work, but even with her assets, the dangers are formidable, and with each mission the dangers increase.

I read a little while ago that the female operators of the Special Operations Executive were under-appreciated and largely unknown compared to their male colleagues. Though this seems to be in line with a standard sentiment these days, it is in fact ironic, since the women who performed the stressful and hazardous under-cover and guerrilla work of the SOE appear to be better known than the men. Aside from Szabo, Odette Sansom, Christine Granville, Nancy Wake, Noor Inayat Khan (‘Madeleine’) are some, all of whom have been depicted in film. Though men made up the majority of operators, those individuals’ names are much less known.

That written, Carve Her Name With Pride is a good, if not very good, story of adventure and sacrifice in German-controlled territory during the Second World War. McKenna gives a fine performance, within the confines of the script (more about that below.) Despite not looking anything like the real Violette Szabo, she manages to portray a very young woman who quickly matures into a responsible wife, mother and soldier. Paul Scofield rarely puts a foot wrong in his rôles, but here, like McKenna, he has a minimum with which to work, and so must show his character’s attraction to Szabo almost immediately; their relationship, as passive as it is, is compressed into a very short time.

Other performances are adequate, though the parts are undemanding. Jack Warner was well-established in radio, cinema and even television (he would be the star of Dixon of Dock Green for 21 years) by 1958 - indeed, that in Carve Her Name With Pride was one of the last of many movie rôles for him - but here he takes on a smallish supporting part. Billie Whitelaw plays Violette’s friend, while Michael Caine has a tiny bit as a thirsty prisoner on a train, Nigel Hawthorne an equally small bit as a Polish soldier, Victor Maddern as a parachuting instructor and Geoffrey Keen as the narrator.

The direction is satisfying. Gilbert was a versatile director, behind the camera for Alfie, Educating Rita (evidently he saw something in that bit-player Caine), Sink the Bismarck! and several James Bond films. The action scenes of Carve Her Name With Pride are well-handled and exciting.

The main problem is the script (co-written by the director) and, related to that, the story. Despite being two hours long, it doesn’t give enough time to Szabo’s work in France; a couple of clandestine meetings, an interview with the Gestapo and a shopping trip in Paris comprise the extent of her first mission. Nor does it relate a great deal about the nuts and bolts of her training.

Perhaps the most regrettable omission is that of her experiences in Ravensbruck prison camp. Certainly, one doesn’t want to see scenes of torture and privation, and the little that is shown of the former is effective. However, some of the most glowing compliments of Szabo’s character came from her fellow prisoners in the camp, describing her endurance and encouragement to others. Admittedly, there was much that had to be left out, but one can’t help thinking that in the hands of a more capable writer, all of this would have been depicted.

Carve Her Name With Pride is an above average film, a fitting record of a courageous woman’s fight, and good entertainment. But it might have been better with a more skilled screenwriter.

The Sniper (1952)

Directed by Edward Dmytryk; produced by Stanley Kramer

Edward Miller (Arthur Franz) is embittered, angry and resentful toward women. His feelings have reached the point of violence and he starts shooting women he sees from a distance. On his trail are the hassled police lieutenant, Kafka (Adolphe Menjou), and his droll assistant, Ferris (Gerald Mohr). How they will catch Miller - if they will catch him - before he claims more victims, may be answered by the murderer himself, who begs them from afar to stop him.

An interesting and suspenseful movie, The Sniper seems to be ahead of its time. I expected, when I first read the synopsis, to find that it had been made in the early 1960s, not a decade earlier. The writing stands out rather more than the acting. The screenplay (nominated for an Oscar) is by Harry Brown, who had already written or co-written A Walk in the Sun (based on his novel), Arch of Triumph, Sands of Iwo Jima and A Place in the Sun. He would later co-write the original Ocean’s 11.

Brown’s script allows us to know the killer, a loner who was obviously traumatized as a child, undoubtedly by his uncaring, possibly physically abusive mother, and then rejected by society in various ways. Miller is made sympathetic to an extent; he knows he is committing murder, and wants to be stopped, and yet cannot. Nonetheless, his rage, never far beneath a rather childish surface, is clearly depicted, and he is not let off the hook for his crimes.

Interestingly, criminal profiling is highlighted in the film. Psychiatrist James Kent (Richard Kiley) is concerned as much with finding out why the murders are being committed as he is with stopping them, with a view to preventing such killings in the future, and helping or ‘curing’ those who might become criminals. It is a view considered too idealistic for other citizens, though his influence is felt by Kafka.

Though the acting takes a back seat to the writing, it is, even so, good, if not very good. Franz is adequate though a little obvious in his rôle, while the performers playing the cops don’t bring anything new to their parts. Marie Windsor, a hardworking actress of B-movies and film noir (eg. The Narrow Margin, The Killing), plays against type as a pleasant and friendly lounge pianist.

Frank Faylen also steps out of his usual niche, and plays an authority figure, a high-ranking police official. Wally Cox, very soon to become tv’s Mister Peepers, and later, a popular panelist on The Hollywood Squares, has a non-comedic bit part, while Charles Lane, whose film work spanned three quarters of a century, plays a drunk.

Among other aspects of The Sniper that stand out are its setting - clearly San Francisco, one of the most recognizable cities in the world but which is never named or indicated - and the ending, which is unusual for the genre. The Sniper is exciting and involving, and extraordinary for its era.