Dramas on Blu-Ray: They Won't Believe Me (1947) and Each Dawn I Die (1939)

 I recently watched a pair of dramas new to Blu-ray from Warner Archive where men find themselves in peril and work around the law as they attempt to save themselves. 

I was drawn to They Won’t Believe Me (1947) because I liked the cast: Robert Young, Susan Hayward, and Jane Greer. All of them are reliably good and deeply appealing, but none of them got quite the attention they deserved. 

This twisty noir is a remarkably good vehicle for the trio. It kept me guessing until the end. 

This is a special film in part because it was produced by Joan Harrison, longtime collaborator with Alfred Hitchcock and a rare female in that position, particularly at the time. The restoration includes fifteen minutes that were removed from the theatrical version of the film. From what I understand this footage serves Greer’s character best, making her more sympathetic and fully-realized. 

Taylor plays against type as a cad named Larry, a minority partner at a brokerage house, who has married Greta for her money (Rita Johnson) and fallen in love with Janice (Jane Greer) who he meets on the sly on Saturday afternoons. When Greta thwarts his plans to run away with Janice, he falls into another affair with Verna (Susan Hayward) and once again tries to run away with her, but this time the problems he encounters are more complicated than a wife who is unwilling to let go. 

Larry is charming and he’s a good talker, so it isn’t surprising that he manages to captivate all these women. He is also skilled at concealing his self-absorption and lack of morals, not only from them, but from himself. The way that fate begins to creep up on him is fascinating, because most films noir are about the mechanics of justice, while here there is an added emotional element. Larry ultimately catches up with himself.

In Each Dawn I Die (1939) James Cagney is a more innocent “man in peril.” This prison drama makes good use of the actor’s ability to be both heroic and a thug. 

Here he is determined newspaper reporter Frank Ross, who is framed for a serious crime when he gets on the wrong side of a well-connected man. While locked up, he not only keeps his own moral compass, but tries to help his fellow inmates, who instantly consider him one of their own. 

He is especially tight with ‘Hood’ Stacey (George Raft) a career criminal with low expectations of his fellow humans, who is stunned by Frank’s loyalty. They try to help each other out and chaos ensues as a result. 

While the prison setting has its share of brutality, the camaraderie between the men is fascinating and a snappy script keeps things popping among them. That underlying feeling of community brings greater tension to a few effectively-staged moments of violence. 

 Jane Bryan is a standout as Cagney’s girl. She’s sweet, but also tough and clever. George Bancroft is solid, if not terribly expressive as the prison warden. He never comes off as very bright in his films, but here he evokes a decency and sense of fairness that makes him a little more compelling than your typical movie jail official. 

It’s one of those crime films that hit all the clichés of thirties hood patter and corrupt officials, but it distinguishes itself because of the way it humanizes its characters. 

Special features on the disc include a carryover of the Warner Night at the Movies program from the DVD release. They include a short subjects gallery, cartoons, and a blooper reel. There's also commentary by film historian Haden Guest and a trailer for the film.

Many thanks to Warner Archive for providing  copies of the films for review.

On DVD: The Thrilling Arrival of The Lusty Men (1952) on DVD

I had a belly full of stitches the first time I saw The Lusty Men. It was at a screening of a beautiful 35mm print at SIFF 2014. I was so determined to see it that I gave myself a week to recover from minor surgery. You could say I related, in a small way, to the beaten and bruised rodeo men up on the screen.

It was more than worthy of the effort, which is why I was thrilled to learn Warner Archive would be giving this brutal, funny and lively film a DVD release. This modern day Nicholas Ray western is the kind of discovery classic film fans yearn for.

Set in the rodeo circuit, The Lusty Men reveals this dangerous, but intoxicating world with almost documentary detail. It smoothly blends those moments of realism with gritty, often risqué drama and a battle-scarred sense of humor.

At the center of it all is Robert Mitchum, who has a lived-in comfort with his role as legendary rodeo rider Jeff McCloud. Recovering from a bad run-in with a bull, the limping cowboy retires from the circuit. He visits his childhood home, a humble shack on an old ranch. There he crosses pathes with Wes Merritt (Arthur Kennedy), aspiring rodeo star and his loyal wife Louise (Susan Hayward).

Merritt convinces McCloud to teach him his trade so that he and the wife can save up for their own ranch. He reluctantly accepts, drawn in by the promise of shared winnings, and maybe just as much because he still has sawdust in his veins. Before long the two have hit the circuit, with a highly reluctant Louise in tow.

Mitchum has trained his prodigy well, and Wes is immediately a star. He becomes intoxicated by his success, taking increasing risks and seeming to forget why he has stepped into this crazy world in the first place. When a rodeo floozy attempts to brand him with a bite, it is Louise who has to kick her in the can and shove her away. He takes the attention, and his success for granted as soon as he wins his first wad of prize money.

Louise fights for her husband, while McCloud smoothly tries to convince her to try the domestic life with him. This against a backdrop of rowdy, traumatized rodeo stars past and present and the wives who watch anxiously from the sidelines.

Ray's drama throbs with adrenaline, though he wisely cuts into the action with moments of calm. When an injured Mitchum limps across an empty stadium, the director takes his time examining the debris floating through the lonely arena, chased with perfectly billowing blankets of dust. For every wild party or raucous event, there's space given for yearning and anxious reflection--those times when the players wonder if they are in the right game.

The rodeo scenes are alarming in their brutality. It all seems less sport that survival, with men throwing themselves into danger over and over again. You feel how out of control the riders are, holding on with one hand, everything spinning around them in a blur.

As dangerous as it all seems, through McCloud's eyes you see how the money is only the initial draw. Rodeo brings out the primal in these men. By riding well, they prove themselves warriors. The feeling of invincibility intoxicates them as much as the wealth, booze and sex.

The film was even richer viewing the second time around. I'm delighted to have the opportunity to revisit it whenever I wish. I certainly intend to do so.

Disc image quality is sharp and clean. The DVD includes a trailer.

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.


Check out my review of the SIFF 2014 screening of The Lusty Men here.

Quote of the Week

...what is interesting about Susan [is that] she is so Irish. An interview with her calls for agility, because you never know when you might get hurt.

-journalist Bob Thomas, about Susan Hayward

Image Source, Quote Source

The Hilariously Offbeat Dialogue of Deadline at Dawn (1946)

Deadline at Dawn (1946) is finally available on DVD—and I’m so glad its purple prose is now readily available to the masses. I saw this offbeat noir flick for the first time in a theater—and the over-the-top dialogue made the audience giggle so much that I thought I must have missed half of what the actors were saying.

I don’t mean to disrespect the movie, because it’s a great mystery, with interesting twists, appealing actors and even some well-executed touching moments, but that Clifford Odets script is nutty. People just don’t talk the way he writes. If you Google “purple prose Odets”—you’ll find that I’m not the only one who feels this way.

Odets was best known for his association with the adventurous Group Theater in the 1930s. He wrote most of his works for the stage—the most famous being Golden Boy (which made it to the big screen as well)—but he also wrote a few memorable screenplays, including Humoresque (1946) and the snarky Sweet Smell of Success (1957).

Of all of Odets’ screenplays, I have the most affection for Deadline at Dawn. It’s the sweetest-tempered noir I’ve ever seen and a loveable mutt of a movie. The dialogue may make me laugh, but it is its own brand of clever and extremely entertaining.

The story is of a sailor (Bill Williams) on shore leave who finds himself mixed up in a murder. A weary taxi dancer (Susan Hayward) and a wordy taxi driver (Paul Lukas) try to help him clear his name.

I had to share some of the incredible things these characters say. The taxi driver had the craziest lines:

A blind man could see how many boyfriends she had. Evidently the water tasted good so she jumped down the well.

Stop zigging when we should be zagging and zagging when we should be zigging.

Remember Alex, speech was given to man to hide his thoughts.

Golly Wolly it’s hot tonight.

Statistics tell us we’ll see the stars again.

I read all the incriminating papers you are looking for and I bunked them away like a squirrel.

Mr. Bartelli the bedbugs will never forgive you. Your skin is made of iron.

Between you and me and the lamppost captain, happiness is no laughing matter.

[His advice to a pair of lovers] Push through the daily shell shock of life together.

The dancer's lines are slightly less outrageous:

This is New York, where hello means goodbye.

You’d better drop down on your bendified knees and pray.

He was nervous like every butcher, baker and candlestick-maker in the town.

And the rest:

If she cut off her head, she’d be very pretty.
-Val, the conman (Joseph Calleia)

She was no lullaby, but she had the brains like a man.
-Val

Gee, time takes so long and it goes so fast.
-Sailor

For some reason, this exchange really cracked me up:

Sailor: Do you hear anything?
Dancer: Only your breathing.
Sailor: Is that what that is?


Image Sources: Poster, Odets Photo

Three with Susan Hayward

If you liked the four Susan Hayward movies they played on TCM today, I've got a few more favorites to suggest:

I Want to Live! (1958)
Hayward's Oscar-nominated performance as party girl Barbara Graham is wild, loose and full of lusty energy. In a showy role like this, she could have careened into camp, but she keeps a perfect balance between defiance and poignance.

Smash-Up: The Story of a Woman (1947)
If you liked I'll Cry Tomorrow (1955), check out this soapier, more intimate Hayward flick about an insecure singer who struggles with alcoholism when she gives up her career for her husband.

Back Street (1961)
One of many screen versions of the Fannie Hurst novel about a woman who resigns herself to living in the shadows of her married lover's life. Glossy, melodramatic and colorful, this is one of Hayward's great campy roles.