On Blu-ray: Debbie Reynolds and Dick Powell in Susan Slept Here (1954)

Susan Slept Here features narration by an Oscar statue. The golden guy sounds just like I imagined he would: cheerful, uptight and betraying the vulnerability of a nude figure. The idea could be unbearably corny, but there's something pliable about the world of Frank Tashlin; Wile E. Coyote could show up, steam could blow out of somebody's ears, and you'd be seduced into believing it all. He offers a fluid take on reality that somehow seems completely plausible. 

Now available on Blu-ray from Warner Archive, this mash-up of eccentricity and mid-century conformity is oddly appealing.

In a plot that sounds unsettling on paper, teenage vagrant Susan Landis (Debbie Reynolds) is deposited at struggling screenwriter Mark Christopher (Dick Powell) apartment by a pair of cops who want to spare the girl Christmas in jail. One of them used to work with him at the studio, and figures he could use her to research his new script about juvenile delinquents. 

Susan is the only one who seems to see how sketchy the situation appears, and it's odd the way her panicked scramble to escape the apartment is played for laughs. It isn't long before she is throwing herself at the reluctant Mark though, much to the irritation of his fiancée Isabella (Anne Francis). As the holidays draw to a close, he angers her even more when he marries Susan to keep her out of jail until she comes of age.

This was Powell's final major film. Coming out two years after Reynolds' breakout role in Singin' in the Rain (1952), in some respects it feels more like the passing of the torch between sparkling musical stars than a romance, though that may be my way of dealing with the uncomfortable sight of 50-year-old Powell's 36-year-old character falling for a teenage girl.

The pairing ultimately works because Powell and Reynolds keep it light. They have an interesting chemistry that is more cozily affectionate than romantic. It is the camera that is most intimate with Reynolds here. I don't think Tashlin was in love with the actress, but he sure films her like he was. 

Powell's former Warner Bros. castmate Glenda Farrell plays his philosophical, hard-drinking secretary. While he seems to be slowing down in this final role, she is just as sharp as she was in the thirties. While the actress would not appear in many more movies, she still had a long career in television ahead of her.

After seeing Anne Francis in a string of sympathetic roles, it was quite the shock to watch her play a shrill, entitled glamour girl. It was great to watch her stomp around in glamourous outfits. She looked just like an angry 1950s Barbie doll.

The setting itself is like a vivid character actor. Everyone is drenched in gorgeous color and perfectly garbed and groomed. The sets are dressed in comforting luxury and presented like photos in a magazine. It could all have the effect of gagging on a rainbow lollipop, but everyone's got a bit of edge. Reynolds seems particularly determined to add some vinegar to the mix, making it clear that she may be a kid, but she's got needs.

While this is far from the most entrancing Tashlin production of the era, the director was putting out consistently entertaining work throughout the fifties and sixties. Susan Slept Here is one of the quirkier titles in the mix, sort of a runt, but adorable nevertheless.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.

On DVD: Anne Francis and Rory Calhoun in The Hired Gun (1957)

There's something so satisfying about a no-nonsense, beautifully-filmed western. A couple of likeable stars, good supporting players, stunning locations. The Hired Hand (1957) is that kind of movie: a briskly paced, efficiently filmed story that speeds lightly through its one hour running time. It's now available on DVD from Warner Archive.

Anne Francis steps into the saddle as Ellen Beldon, a widow who is about to be the first woman to be hung in Texas history, for the murder of her husband. He claims of innocence have been ignored..

She's rescued from jail by her uncle and his ranch hands and races across the border to her old ranch home in New Mexico. There she is safe, because the governor has decreed that she was unfairly tried and he will not allow extradition.

Beldon's father-in-law isn't willing to let her go though. He hires gunslinger Gil McCord (Rory Calhoun, who also produced the film) to kidnap her and bring her back over the Texas border where he can legally make an arrest. The mercenary McCord goes undercover as a ranch hand to get close to Beldon and quickly captures her. She strikes him as decent though, and once he hears her story, he knows he must try to save her life.

It's a simple story and not bound to provide any real surprises. That can be easy to forget though, because the Lone Pines, California locations make the production seem grander than it is. I've been watching a lot of films made there lately, and the purity and fresh feel of the expansive vistas and snowy mountain peaks always thrill me. Here director Ray Nazarro tends to humble his players, by showing how small they are in the face of all that natural grandeur.

Rory Calhoun and Anne Francis are remarkably appealing actors. I've often felt they both deserved greater fame and acclaim, but in enjoying their performances here, I've decided that they weren't meant to achieve that level of stardom. They have acting chops and charisma, but no matter how lost these stars may become in their roles, they always seem like the most gorgeous couple in a small town high school.

They're the prom king and queen, who decide they're going to go to Hollywood to break into the movies. That aura makes them all the more endearing, if not larger than life. I think there are a lot of stars like that: beautiful, charming people who appear more accessible because they are closer to the earth than the greats.

I found it interesting that three of the leading men would soon move on to television, because the production could easily have been a one-hour drama on the tube if a few corners were cut. Calhoun stayed with the western genre for two seasons on The Texan. Ranch hand Chuck Connors would embark on a legendary run as The Rifleman and Vince Edwards, who plays Ellen's shifty brother-in-law, would find his greatest fame starring in the medical drama Ben Casey.


For another take on The Hired Gun (1957), check out Laura's great review at Laura's Miscellaneous Musings.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing a copy of the film for review. This is a Manufacture on Demand (MOD) DVD. To order, visit The Warner Archive Collection.