The Big Clock (1948)

Directed by John Farrow; produced by Richard Maibaum.

Earl Janoth (Charles Laughton) controls his publishing empire with an iron hand, knowing everything that goes on, from who left an electric bulb burning in a supply closet (and whose pay will be docked accordingly) to how to manipulate his star magazine manager, George Stroud (Ray Milland). When, however, in a fit of rage, Janoth murders his mistress, Pauline York (Rita Johnson), he seeks to blame a man he saw obscurely near the woman’s apartment. Little does he know that the man is Stroud, who was approached by Pauline with a scheme to blackmail Janoth. The latter assigns Stroud to track down the killer, in a hunt that puts a noose more and more tightly around Stroud’s own neck – though only Stroud knows it.

This complicated-sounding plot is the premise behind an entertaining and clever crime-movie; not quite a film noir, but directed in that style, aided by an intelligent script (by Jonathan Latimer, who also wrote above-par screenplays for Alias Nick Beal, Night Has a Thousand Eyes and The Glass Key, among other movies). There is a heavy dose of humour in the film, though the humour itself is not heavy. It is, in fact, provided in a light manner, though the story is taken seriously: it would have been a disaster for the film to become comedy.

The performances are very good. Milland could play good or bad, swinging from the Devil in Alias Nick Beal (reprising the rôle, at least with his voice, in King of Kings) to bemused and unwitting romantic lead (The Major and the Minor) to unabashed yet under-stated hero (The Uninvited). Here, he’s not quite an ‘everyman’, as he has too sharp a tongue and too ready a wit; these qualities make George Stroud the perfect character for such a story, and Milland the perfect actor to play him.

Laughton, too, could play good and bad. In The Big Clock, he’s an insufferable tyrant who thinks the world should run – on time - just for his needs and desires. Janoth’s vanity and fastidiousness, combined with a certain oiliness, make it clear that he could have a mistress only for money (her ‘music lessons’). His overall personality, from cruelty to arrogance and, ultimately, to cowardice, squeezes out any sympathy the viewer may have for him, and Laughton plays the part very well.

Surprisingly, there are three dimensions to Johnson’s character, too, though writers usually don’t waste time or effort on the victim in a murder-story. Johnson provides enough heft to the part to make York’s killing a regret to audiences, as well as to herself.

The direction heightens the tension as Stroud’s world shrinks: witnesses who have seen him as Janoth’s suspect are brought in, the building where he works is sealed off. Farrow creates a thriller in the early Hitchcockian mold, making the atmosphere work, despite – or perhaps aided by - the periodic light-heartedness of the dialogue. In fact, the sinister aspects are strengthened by pitting them against humour (eg. when Stroud knows that Janoth’s masseur (Henry Morgan) has been brought in to kill the suspect ‘when he tries to escape’), and Stroud’s drunken escapades with Pauline, though amusing, are just creating trouble for the man later on.

The versatile and talented Elsa Lanchester has a typically amusing part as an abstract painter; this is one of her many appearances with husband Laughton. (Maureen O’Sullivan, who plays Stroud’s wife, was the real-life wife of director Farrow; they were the parents of Mia Farrow). Ruth Roman has an uncredited bit as a secretary, and Noel Neill, Lois Lane in the 1950s tv series Superman, plays an elevator operator.

All together, cast, director and writer bring together an absorbing, fun, suspenseful tale of a man hunting for himself, while trying to bring a killer to justice: a difficult feat pulled off successfully by all concerned.

Twelve O'Clock High (1949)

Directed by Henry King; produced by Darryl F Zanuck

The U.S. Army Air Force’s 918th Bomber Group has become known as a ‘hard luck’ unit for its continuing disasters during missions over occupied Europe. Tough Brigadier General Frank Savage (Gregory Peck) is sent to take over command; despite his predecessor (Gary Merrill) being his friend, Savage blames him for being too soft in driving the officers and men under his command, for becoming too involved in their problems. By ruthless but fair methods, Savage slowly turns the group around – but at what cost to his men, and to himself?

One of the most significant of war movies, Twelve O’Clock High found favour with audiences, critics and veterans of the European bombing campaign. It may be one of the first American films of the ‘40s to depict the war as a soul-damaging, character-crushing experience, yet it offers a highly complimentary picture of the men involved.

The story-line is reportedly very realistic; it certainly comes across that way. The events are an amalgam of real experiences, and the characters are either based on single individuals or composites. The casting of Peck as Savage was inspired, I think: tall, broad-shouldered, physically strong Peck is perfect for the unbending, almost unforgiving commander, and makes what happens to him as the film progresses all the more startling.

The other actors are all very good. They convey, with ease, so it seems, their characters’ personalities. Especially good are Dean Jagger as Stovall, a First World War veteran serving as the group’s adjutant; his unashamed drunkenness at certain times ironically shows strength and independence toward authority, while the man serves as a subordinate desk-bound officer. Merrill, as a former group commander, who tries to warn Savage of what might happen with his methods; Millard Mitchell as General Pritchard, VIII Bomber Command’s leader, and Robert Patten, whose youth contrasts with his casual acceptance of danger and death, should also be noted. Kenneth Tobey has a bit part as a military policeman who draws Savage’s wrath.

The writing is also exceptional. There is a moment when Savage confronts Pritchard with objections to yet another high-risk raid: it shows how far the former has come to being little different than his predecessor. Yet the interest lies not just in that scene but in the realization that the change in Savage has been building all along. The script works in demonstrating the correctness of Savage’s unpleasant driving of the men, as well as understanding the men’s resentfulness at being ordered always to do more, always better. There are other aspects of the story that fit well together, as in Stovall’s gradual comprehension of Savage’s character and what he is trying to accomplish, and Stovall’s subsequent, and secret, assistance in that goal.

There is surprisingly little action in the film, though this is not to be regretted. Such action is not missed, as the writing, acting and direction creates enough drama and suspense to relieve action of its duties. Henry King first sat in the director’s chair in 1916, and left it 46 years later. He worked with Peck half a dozen times, and Tyrone Power almost as often. He directed films as diverse as The Song of Benadette, The Black Swan (reviewed on this blog in September, 2021) and Wait Till the Sunshines, Nellie. Not a name that is famous now, King seemingly could direct successful movies whether dramatic, epic, actionful or musical.

There are parallels between Twelve O’Clock High and Appointment in London (reviewed in November, 2023), about another bombing unit commander, this one in the Royal Air Force. Though both cover aspects of conflict within hierarchy, intense stress, expectations and relationships, Appointment in London showed a bit more of the technical elements of the job, while Twelve O’clock High was harder-hitting.

An excellent film, an important war-movie, Twelve O’clock High should be seen for its story, acting, direction and everything else it has to offer.