Movie Review: Larceny, Inc. (1942)

Genre: Crime Comedy  

Director: Lloyd Bacon  

Starring: Edward G. Robinson, Broderick Crawford, Edward Brophy, Jane Wyman, Jack Carson, Anthony Quinn  

Running Time: 95 minutes  

Synopsis: In New York, professional thief J. Chalmers "Pressure" Maxwell (Edward G. Robinson) claims he wants to go straight for the sake of his adopted daughter Denny (Jane Wyman). But to do so he needs to raise funds, so Pressure and his buddies Jug (Broderick Crawford) and Weepy (Edward Brophy) buy a struggling luggage store and secretly plan to break into the next-door bank through the cellar. Meanwhile luggage salesman Jeff (Jack Carson) is invested in the store's success, while ruthless criminal Leo (Anthony Quinn) wants to break into the same bank, both disrupting Pressure's agenda.

What Works Well: Sharp writing, a trio of lovable rogues, and a fast-moving plot about tripping over a good thing make for an entertaining romp. Edward G. Robinson has a blast as an ex-convict with a kind heart, and he is ably supported by Broderick Crawford and Edward Brophy as two loyal but non-too-bright sidekicks. Within the compact running time director Lloyd Bacon inserts a breezy romance between adopted daughter Denny and hustling luggage merchant Jeff, plus commentary about street politics and Christmas season sales tactics. Anthony Quinn is the one serious presence as the gnarling goon with a perpetual chip on his shoulder.

What Does Not Work As Well: The first act is slow, and some of the comedy slips into repetitive silliness. 

Conclusion: Nothing succeeds like excess baggage.



All Ace Black Movie Blog reviews are here.

Movie Review: All That Heaven Allows (1955)

A romantic melodrama, All That Heaven Allows is saturated with colours and emotions. Passions mix with virtue lessons in an obvious but undeniably attractive package.

In the suburban New England community of Stoningham, Cary Scott (Jane Wyman) is a wealthy widow tentatively returning to socializing. Her best friend Sara (Agnes Moorehead) encourages her to re-engage with the exclusive social club, where well-heeled suitors await. But Cary is most intrigued by her handsome and righteous arborist Ron Kirby (Rock Hudson), who lives a simple rugged life and enjoys the company of genuine friends. 

Although he is younger, of modest means, and from outside her social circle, Cary falls in love with Ron and they make plans to marry. Sara warns her friend that the community will be scandalized, and Cary is further shaken by the reaction of her two college-aged children, son Ned and daughter Kay.

Directed by Douglas Sirk and written by Peg Fenwick, All That Heaven Allows takes aim at upper middle class vanity. In an efficient 89 minutes, the narrative bounces a romance against societal and familial expectations, exposing hypocrisies and classist expectations guiding dreadful behaviours. The town gossip Mona (Jacqueline deWit, suitably insufferable), Cary's own selfish children, and lecherous men hiding behind cocktails all create a warped decision lens that deems Ron unworthy.

In addition to the hurdles thrown in the way of a romantic reawakening, the film is equally interested in a mother's dilemmas. As a widow Cary is expected to fade away into lonely irrelevance in front of a television set, while Ned and Kay are free to rage about her choices then pursue their own lives. Sirk and Fenwick allow Cary to confront immature and condescending attitudes, then empower her to chart an independent path in a laudable self-recognition of value.

Jane Wyman comfortably dominates the cast, although her acting sometimes defaults to mid-distance stares, while Rock Hudson does not so much act as represent an unshackled life. The music score by Frank Skinner is predictably sentimental and cluttered with crescendos.

The potent, brisk and syrupy plot is enhanced by stunning visuals. Starting with the rich colours of autumn before transitioning into an idyllic snow-covered winter, Sirk drenches the drama in vivid colours with impeccable framing, every scene a postcard-worthy composition. Nature, structures, and wardrobes are always perfectly harmonious, hues and arrangements popping off the screen in a display of meticulous perfection. The facade of beauty underlines the importance of keeping up appearances, and heightens the fervent struggle between pettiness and authenticity.



All Ace Black Movie Blog reviews are here.

Movie Review: Magnificent Obsession (1954)

An emotionally bloated romantic melodrama, Magnificent Obsession is a love story inflated by religious pretensions and a close-to-ridiculous narrative.

Playboy millionaire and medical school drop-out Bob Merrick (Rock Hudson) crashes his power boat. His life is saved by a resuscitator, but at the same time the respected Dr. Phillips suffers a heart attack and dies because the life-saving device is unavailable. Bob meets the deceased doctor's widow Helen (Jane Wyman) and immediately falls in love with her, but she rejects him as opportunistic and crass.

Helen's friend Randolph (Otto Kruger) mentors Bob about empathy, charitable work, and doing good for others without asking for anything in return. But Bob is clumsy in applying these lessons, and causes an accident that leaves Helen blind and in the care of her loyal nurse Nancy (Agnes Moorehead). Bob adopts the personality of Robby and again tries to prove his love for Helen. He arranges for top medical experts to review her case, but Joyce's step-daughter Joyce (Barbara Rush) remains sceptical.

It's difficult to take anything that happens in Magnificent Obsession seriously. The film is dominated by plastic characters over-emoting at successive contrived crises, and director Douglas Sirk comes dangerously close to delivering an unintended comedy of dreck. The film adapts a 1929 book by Lutheran minister Lloyd C. Douglas, but this is still no excuse for the choral choir to blare onto the soundtrack every ten minutes, triple underlining holier-than-thou awakenings of the spirit.

The love story spends a long time in stalker territory, with stars Rock Hudson and Jane Wyman sharing no chemistry. Sirk does deliver gorgeous aesthetics, sparkling use of colour, and dreamy locations, and the one idyllic evening Bob and Helen spend together in Switzerland finally catches some magic. But then irrational behaviours burst back to prolong the mushiness and trample the mood, the final act striding into plain silly territory.

Rock Hudson is dramatically upright as his character navigates an unlikely arc, but Jane Wyman is mostly bland. Agnes Moorehead and Barbara Rush add quality in the supporting roles. Otto Kruger is saddled with a holiness just short of a visible halo, Sirk even finding a late angle for Randolph to hover over Bob in a physical representation of spectral influence. 

Magnificent Obsession means well, but lacks the sophistication to sell its own beliefs.



All Ace Black Movie Blog reviews are here.

Movie Review: The Lost Weekend (1945)

A stunning alcoholism drama, The Lost Weekend packs a knockout punch as a dark exploration of a grim human addiction.

In New York City, Don Birnam (Ray Milland) is a struggling writer and a hopeless alcoholic. In front of his girlfriend Helen (Jane Wyman) and his brother Wick (Phillip Terry) Don pretends to be on the road to recovery, but in reality all he can think of is getting the next drink. He stashes bottles in hiding places throughout his apartment to hide them from Wick, but sometimes also outsmarts himself.

Don, speaking to bar owner Nat: It shrinks my liver, doesn't it, Nat? It pickles my kidneys, yes. But what does it do to my mind? It tosses the sandbags overboard so the balloon can soar. Suddenly, I'm above the ordinary. I'm competent, supremely competent. I'm walking a tightrope over Niagara Falls. I'm one of the great ones. I'm Michelangelo, molding the beard of Moses. I'm Van Gogh, painting pure sunlight. I'm Horowitz, playing the Emperor Concerto. I'm John Barrymore before the movies got him by the throat. I'm Jesse James and his two brothers — all three of 'em. I'm W. Shakespeare. And out there it's not Third Avenue any longer: it's the Nile, Nat, the Nile — and down it moves the barge of Cleopatra.

Don finagles his way out of Wick's weekend trip to the country, staying behind in a city full of temptations and embarking on a quest for money to buy booze. Despite Helen's increasingly frantic efforts to save her man, Don's real companions are bartenders and floozies as his weekend becomes a downward spiral of desperation towards the bottom of the bottle. As the weekend wears on, he also recounts the history of his relationship with Helen to a bartender.

Nat: Why don't you cut it short?
Don: I can't cut it short. I'm on that merry-go-round. You gotta ride it all the way. Round and round until that blasted music wears itself out and the thing dies down and comes to a stop... At night, the stuff's a drink. In the morning, it's medicine... It's a terrifying problem, Nat, because if it's dawn, you're dead. The bars are closed and the liquor stores don't open until nine o'clock and you can't last until nine o'clock. Or maybe Sunday, that's the worst. No liquor stores at all, and you guys wouldn't open a bar, not until one o'clock. Why? WHY, Nat?

Directed and co-written by Billy Wilder, The Lost Weekend is the first serious on-screen treatment of alcoholism's vice-like grip. The disease is presented for what it is, a destructive controlling force with potential to crush careers and relationships. Far from the hitherto traditional portrayal of jovial drunks cracking jokes and providing comic relief, The Lost Weekend is an unyielding and fearless journey into the abyss.

The tone is set early. From the opening scene a bottle is hanging outside the apartment window, hiding in plain sight, Don waiting for any opportunity to be alone and take a swig. And as soon as he rids himself of Wick's attention he turns to lies, theft, and pawn shops to scrape together the dollars needed to supply himself with alcohol for his weekend binge. The film captures ingenuity sparked by despair, and the depths to which Don will sink to secure the next drink.

Helped by a dedicated Ray Milland performance revelling in the freedom of abdicating to an insidious disorder, Wilder conjures up two unforgettable highlights. The first finds Don at a swanky late night lounge, racking up a large drinks bill he cannot afford to pay. He attempts to improvise a solution, risking the depths of humiliation to service his addiction. The second climax features Don reduced to pawning his typewriter to again raise some much needed drinking funds, the final surrender of a career capitulating to substance dependency. All the pawnshops are closed, and Don's trek takes him across New York, but he will not give up the search for a few dollars to satisfy his cravings.

Nat, to Don, referring to the number of drinks: One's too many an' a hundred's not enough.

Still turning the screws Wilder pushes deeper. Don's thoughts turn to more permanent solutions, and even Helen's love and commitment become opportunities for more self-annihilation. Drowning in the sorrow of an all too common condition, The Lost Weekend is horrific, essential and unblinking.

All Ace Black Blog Movie Reviews are here.