Walt at Random

Man of the Frontier, 1936, b&w. B. Reeves Eason (dir.), Gene Autry, Smiley Burnette, Frances Grant, Boothe Howard, Jack Kennedy, Champion. Original title Red River Valley (1:00). 0:54 [0:55].

Gene Autry plays Gene Autry—but maybe not as a singing cowboy (although he does sing in the movie). Delivering some cattle for a fee, he finds that the Red River Valley Land & Irrigation Company, trying to build a dam and canal to irrigate the surrounding land, keeps getting locks blown up and losing its “ditch rider,” the guy responsible for keeping stuff in shape. So Autry takes the job. Naturally, there’s a conspiracy afoot. Naturally, one of the most respected men in town is behind it (the banker, I guess, who wants to foreclose on all the land, in cahoots with the office manager of the company—I think). Naturally, Gene in his white hat saves the day—and, since there’s a pretty young woman involved, you can reasonably assume that he winds up either going with or marrying her.

I’ll admit, I think of “the frontier” as something a little more primitive than an area with telephone service working on a dam and irrigation systems (with construction trains running to the dam site), but what do I know? (Now it makes sense: The original title is Red River Valley.) I haven’t seen that many Autry flicks, but he seems a bit less likable here than in some others: Sneering much of the time, with somewhat of a mean streak. Frog, his lovable sidekick, is amusing as always and gets a more interesting musical number. There’s also a fascinating novelty “hillbilly band” playing some interesting instruments. You can guess the key song for Autry, can’t you, given the setting? Oh, and the big crew building the dam all sing multipart harmony in perfect tune, as though they’re part of an oversize barbershop quartet. Interesting. In a charitable mood, I’ll give it $1.00

Riders of the Whistling Pines, 1949, b&w. John English (dir.), Gene Autry, Patricia Barry/White, Jimmy Lloyd, Douglass Dumbrille, Damian O’Flynn, Clayton Moore. 1:10 [1:08]

Gene Autry’s Gene Autry again in this tale of the new post-WWII west—cropdusters, trucks, cars, ecoterrorism, but when trouble’s afoot, everybody leaps on horses. This time, he’s a forest ranger who’s been given a new rifle as he’s leaving to run a lodge. His buddy (there’s no Crusty this time; instead, a regular-guy sidekick with a drinking problem) points to a mountain lion. Gene tries to shoot it, twice—and instead, believes he’s shot somebody completely out of sight on a horse.

But we know the truth: This dastardly lumber company has an exclusive contract to log on Federal land (when they’re allowed to)—and there’s a spreading infestation that could kill off tens of thousands of acres of forest, which would mean they could log all that timber and make a fortune. The guy was off to alert other authorities of the infestation; one of the timber honchos heard Autrey shooting and found it a convenient cover to kill this guy in cold blood. Naturally, Gene admits it; it’s an accident, but he resigns his post and sells the lodge to the couple who’ve been setting it up. (Later, his forestry buddies tell him that they messed up the sight on the gun as a prank: He could not possibly have shot the other guy, as the gun was set to fire into the ground when he aimed normally.)

But wait! The infestation’s discovered anyway—and spraying the whole forest with DDT from the air is the way to stop it. Nobody but Autry can manage the job—building the access roads and airstrip, organizing the crews to do the flying, all within 30 days—so, of course Autry says he’ll do it. Meantime, the evil timber marauders (one of them’s Clayton Moore in a distinctly non-Lone Ranger role) figure the only way to stop him and see that the forest dies off is to convince the ranchers that DDT will kill their animals. But, of course, as we all know, DDT wouldn’t hurt a fly…

So they fly another plane spraying real poison over various farms. That’s just part of a plot-heavy flick with lots of songs—apparently Autry by this time managed to be both a highly successful musician and an itinerant cowboy-of-all-trades just out to earn a living and pick up another girl by the end of the plot. (By this time, he’d done more than sixty flicks, always playing Gene Autry except for the one time he was Tex Autry.) Oh, and now when he’s singing as he’s riding along, invisible instruments and a background chorus show up from time to time.

It’s not bad, certainly not the standard formula, although in this case the bad guy’s such an obvious jerk that you’d think he’d have trouble convincing farmers to riot against the noble Feds just trying to do their job. This is also a movie of its time: Twenty years later, the concept that DDT is entirely benign might not go over quite so well. The print’s mostly OK, but there’s some choppiness, noticeable in a couple of songs. Still, I’ll give it $1.00.

Painted Desert, 1931, b&w. Howard Higgin (dir.), William Boyd, Helen Twelvetrees, William Farnum, J. Farrell MacDonald, Clark Gable. 1:25 [1:15].

I’m not sure which is more bizarre in this full-length Western: The plot or the acting. Two best friends are making their way through the old west, helping each other at every turn. They come upon a broken-down wagon (presumably the result of a raid?) and hear a baby’s cry. There’s an abandoned infant, which they take with them. Then they reach a watering hole. One person says that’s it, he’s found his grubstake (I guess this was during a homesteading period: Go there and you own it), he’s settling down. The other says no, he’s going on to find grazing land—and insists on taking the kid. End of Act 1.

Now the kid’s grown up and back from mining school. The two men are bitter enemies, and the guy with the watering hole—whose only living comes from renting access to the water to cattle ranchers taking cattle to market—forces the other guy to take his cattle the long way around, refusing water. And both of the old friends act as though zombified, for some reason. Oh, and the waterhole owner has a lovely young (that is, young woman) daughter (but no wife). And the son has found tungsten in the hill that’s part of the waterhole property. When the son tries to talk his father into mending fences, the father basically disowns him and throws him out. The son goes in with the other guy, starts the mine (on a loan), almost loses it because of various nefarious deeds…and, well, of course it all works out (albeit with both older men shooting the hero simultaneously, oddly enough).

As it turns out, the real evildoer is some fellow who would do anything to keep people from taking what’s his—and that’s not quite clear, although I guess it’s the daughter. (Apparently that’s Clark Gable. Maybe his first talkie; not his finest hour.) I don’t know. Maybe it’s a style of acting I just don’t recognize. If I hadn’t been treadmilling, I’d have fallen asleep. (Apparently the missing 10 minutes is mostly three big action scenes that were deliberately removed from the flick after its first showing, to be used in other movies—including one of them in Red River Valley.) The dozed-off acting, peculiar (not in a good way) plot and a mediocre print limit this to $0.75.

Gunfight at Red Sands, 1963, color (original title Duello nel Texas). Ricardo Blasco (dir.), Richard Harrison, Giacomo Rossi-Stuart, Mikaela, Sara Lezana, Daniel Martin. 1:35.

Red certainly seems appropriate as part of this movie’s title, since it’s in an odd sort of sepiacolor that only includes shades of red, browns, wood, and other faded colors—no blues or true greens that I could see. It’s apparently an early “spaghetti Western,” with decent production values but not a whole lot in the way of acting or, well, logic.

Richard Harrison is Gringo—adopted son of a Mexican family working a little gold mine in a just-north-of-the-border town, who returns from four years fighting in the Mexican civil war. As he returns, three bandits kill the father and steal all the gold (most of it supposedly hidden). The rest of the movie deals with that—and with a town whose handsome sheriff and a group of variously mean-spirited sidekicks all hate Mexicans, even though much of the town appears to be Hispanic. (The most interesting villain is a giggling sociopath who is also, of course, a deputy sheriff.)

I guess I shouldn’t expect logic in a flick like this. Seems as though the sheriff or his clearly-murderous sidekicks would have just shot Gringo in the back or in “self defense” fairly early in the plot, but that wouldn’t make for much of a movie or get us to the inevitable (and really ludicrous) showdown. Maybe I should be impressed by Ennio Morricone’s score. I guess it’s OK. Let’s see. Other than the pseudocolor, there’s a short section where there seem to be holes in the print (that is, real holes, not just the holes in the plot). I can’t see giving this more than $0.75.

Close observers (if there are any) may wonder why this isn’t Disc 4 of the Hollywood Legends set. It has to do with the six-disc cumulations I run in Cites & Insights: I don’t want to have two of them in the same month, so when I’m splitting viewing between two sets, I “get ahead” on one of the two. Given the number of short flicks in this set, it was an easy choice.

American Empire, 1942, b&w. William C. McGann (dir.), Richard Dix, Leo Carrillo, Preston Foster, Frances Gifford, Jack La Rue, Guinn Williams, Cliff Edwards. 1:22.

The setup: Just after the Civil War on the Sabine River between Texas and Louisiana, with Dan Taylor and Pax Bryce running a riverboat freight company. The boat gets grounded where Dominique Beauchard is driving a “there for the taking” herd of cattle across the river from Texas to Louisiana, and offer to transport the cattle if he’ll get the boat back afloat. Beauchard stiffs them on the fee—and they take off with a bunch of the cattle, which they sell to buy Texas land, then sell all the “free for the taking” cattle on the land to buy more land, then…

Anyway, the two build an “American empire” of Texas rangeland—but lose lots of cattle to Beauchard’s continuing attitude that any cattle his men can take are his property. They believe they’ve killed Beauchard because he falls off his horse into a river after a shot: Gee, apparently nobody but Dan’l Boone ever thought of hiding underwater breathing through a straw. When thousands of cattle keep disappearing, one increasingly-arrogant partner decides it must be the other cattlemen and says they can no longer drive their herds across his range. That leads to a forced stampede and the death of the partner’s son—which is not the climax of the movie (as one IMDB reviewer claims), although it helps make the rancher more bitter and difficult to deal with. That’s just part of a fairly large and plausible plotline, with Beauchard a continuing and nearly unstoppable villain and one of the two empire-builders as, well, a horse’s ass. There’s an odd mix of tones, as Beauchard (Leo Carrillo, perhaps best known as Pancho on The Cisco Kid) seems as much comic relief as town-destroying villain.

The climax is a remarkable and extended three-way battle after the rancher (his partner’s asked to be bought out) orders up barbed-wire fence, the rest of the cattlemen decide to attack him, as Beauchard’s gang decides to destroy the town…it’s quite something. My biggest problem with this otherwise-interesting flick, other than the curious way Beauchard’s character is played and yet another sheriff too stupid to prevent a jailbreak, is something I’ve never seen in a DVD transfer before: motion ghosts, the kind you’d get on old LCD displays. They’re sometimes pretty bad, with streaks trailing behind the action. That problem (and some sound distortion early on) reduce this to $1.

Billy the Kid Trapped, 1942, b&w, Sam Newfield (dir.), Buster Crabbe, Al St. John, Bud McTaggert, Ann Jeffries, Glenn Strange, Walter McGrail, Ted Adams. 0:59 [0:55].

This one’s a little different. Billy the Kid (Buster Crabbe) is a good guy, with Crusty and another sidekick (the first sidekick’s not named Crusty—actually “Fuzzy Jones”—but he’s yet another crusty ol’ sidekick), but three real outlaws are dressing up as Billy and his cohort and running around robbing and killing. An evil mastermind who runs Mesa City, a hideout for criminals, is behind it all, of course. (Note: I usd actor’s names as credited in the film, not as in IMDB.) Enough missing frames to interfere with continuity keep this from getting more than $0.75.

Vengeance Valley, 1951, color, Richard Thorpe (dir.), Burt Lancaster, Robert Walker, Joanne Dru, Sally Forrest, John Ireland, Hugh O”Brian, Will Wright. 1:23. [1:21]

This is more like it: Full (and very good) color, some serious acting (and serious actors), cowboys who herd cattle (you know, like cows), grand scale and scenery, an interesting and adult plot. The basic plot: An aging and ailing cattle baron has a son who’s pretty much worthless—and a foster son (Lancaster) who tries to keep the bad seed in shape while acting as ranch foreman and being far too loyal for his own good. The rotten kid’s married—but also impregnated a good local woman, for which her rotten brothers blame the innocent foster son. Various treachery ensues, all of it making a lot more sense than many western plots. Good narration and more detail about (and footage of) spring and fall cattle drives than you might expect. Some damage to portions of the print, but it’s still worth $1.50.

The Sundowners, 1950, color. George Templeton (dir.), Robert Preston, Robert Sterling, Chill Wills, Cathy Downs, John Litel, Jack Elam, Don Haggerty, John Barrymore Jr. 1:23

No, not the 1960 Deborah Kerr-Robert Mitchum flick; this one came ten years earlier. Also full color, with significant star power, some well-written dialog and pretty decent acting—Robert Preston makes a great villain. Distinctly filmed on location: It starts with a screen identifying the four Texas ranches used by name and brand!

The plot, as far as I can tell, is that two guys have a cattle ranch but are under siege from their neighbors (who formerly used the land as free grazing country) and keep losing cattle to nightriders. The Wichita Kid (Preston) shows up and, with the help of the younger guy and a ranch hand, starts stealing back cattle—and also shooting people when he feels like it. The “good guy” (Robert Sterling), the older of the two ranch owners, approves of the new thefts but isn’t quite so hot for the casual shootings. There’s a deep dark secret (given away fairly well, but I won’t mention it) that prevents Sterling from gunning down Preston to save his own hide. It all leads up to a three-way gun (and whip!) battle (three groups of people) and an ending of sorts.

I have two problems with the movie, one of them specific to this print. First, there really aren’t any good guys in the flick (although one woman seems honorable enough), but there are lots of movies that set various shades of badness against one another, so that’s OK. Second, it’s a choppy print: While the color and sound are both good, there are enough missing frames and words to interfere with continuity, even though it’s not even a minute short. I’ll give it $1.00.

I tried hard to look for silver linings in this group of films…and it wasn’t easy.
Paroled—To Die!, 1938, b&w. Sam Newfield (dir.), Bob Steele, Kathleen Eliot, Karl Hackett, Horace Murphy, Steve Clark. 0:55.

The title covers the last five or ten minutes of a short oater that could have been shorter, in a timeless West with telephones but without cars, in an unnamed state where a small-town banker would be the wealthiest man in the state if he managed to finish drilling an oil well. (I did say “without cars,” didn’t I?)

Seems like there’s a lot of footage of one man or another man or three men on horses galloping full tilt; much of it’s close-up, so it’s not clear whether they’re simply using five seconds of footage over and over. And, of course, it follows typical one-hour-oater habits: Lots of badly-staged fistfights, the villain is also the most respected man in town (and runs the town), even though he bears a striking resemblance to Snidely Whiplash, the hero gets framed—except this time he gets sent off to prison (framed because the banker’s looting his own bank to pay for the oil well, and the banker and hero are after the same girl) for 21 years, but immediately paroled by the governor because…well, if I include that, I’d be giving you pretty much the whole screenplay.

Not terrible but not very good. Bob Steele isn’t much of an actor (and neither is anyone else), but makes up for it by not doing trick shooting or trick riding either. Generously (it’s a decent print), $0.75

The Oklahoma Cyclone, 1930, b&w. John P. McCarthy (dir.), Bob Steele, Rita Rey, Al St. John, Charles King, Slim Whitaker, N. E. Hendrix, Hector Sarno. 1:06 [1:03].

This time, Bob Steele does sing (a lot)—and preens, and makes much of himself, and generally behaves in such a manner that he seems like a pretty good villain. That’s not how things turn out, but for most of the movie he’s playing a thief on the run (the Oklahoma Cyclone), holing up with a gang of thieves who also play ranchers at Santa Maria.

If anyone plans to see this (and I surely don’t recommend it), I won’t give the plot away; it’s no sillier than most other early Westerns. The big problem here, other than sheer implausibility and the likelihood that anyone who’s as much of a jerk as Steele plays would have been gotten rid of somehow long before the end of the flick, is that the first portion of the print’s dark and difficult to watch. It improves, but it’s never very good and there are enough bad cuts to be annoying. Generously (again), $0.75.

Daniel Boone, Trail Blazer, 1956, color. Albert C. Gannaway and Ismael Rodriguez (dirs.), Bruce Bennett, Lon Chaney, Faron Young, Kem Dibbs, Jaqueline Evans. 1:16 [1:14].

Color! (Well, sort of—sometimes the scenery fades to grayscale, but people and foreground items are always in color.) Singing! (Four songs, odd for a movie that’s definitely not a cheery musical.) Notably, the Shawnee protagonist Chief Blackfish (played by Lon Chaney!) sees Boone and his ilk as “white men,” but doesn’t seem to treat the villainous French renegade or a whole bunch of uniformed British Redcoats as white men, particularly when he’s declaring war on the white men. (Although Daniel Boone really did have dealings with Chief Blackfish, there’s not much in common between the real history and what’s portrayed in this flick.)
Naturally, Daniel Boone tries to convince the Shawnee that the French villain is lying to them when he says the settlers are out to run them off their land. That may not have been true in 1775, when the movie’s set, but down the road a bit… Anyway, lots of action and, of course, the hero eventually saves the day. One remarkable scene near the end…but I won’t give it away, as it’s almost plausible that you might watch this one if there’s nothing better to do. $1.00.

Kentucky Rifle, 1956, color. Carl K. Hittleman (dir.), Chill Wills, Lance Fuller, Cathy Downs, Sterling Holloway, Henry Hull, Jeanne Cagney. 1:24.

So there’s a Conestoga wagon train headed west—with a hundred Kentucky rifles in one wagon, along with their owner (and would-be gunsmith/gun shop owner), who’s hitched a ride with a wealthy settler who distrusts him. With good reason: The wealthy guy’s fiancée decides she prefers the handsome young gunsmith to the annoying “money settles everything” not-much-older businessman. This particular wagon keeps breaking spokes on one wheel and finally breaks the rear axle—in Comanche territory. The rest of the wagon train proceeds; the group left behind (including one very pregnant settler) tries to find a tree for a replacement axle while coping with Comanches who demand tribute. The wealthy guy wants to give them everything—specifically including the rifles—in return for safe passage. The gunsmith (and his crusty old sidekick) don’t trust the deal.

Various stuff ensues (based on this movie, it was nigh impossible to miss with a Kentucky rifle). You won’t be surprised to learn that the rifles finally stay on the wagon, which eventually gets moving. You probably also won’t be surprised that the Comanches are portrayed as double-dealers, whereas the settler’s attitude (“this is public land, no matter how long you’ve been here or what you might say about it”) is of course honorable. Lance Fuller makes an interesting hero/gunsmith, given that he was part Cherokee. Sterling Holloway does a cute job as a nervous young settler (who keeps a still on the side).

I’ve always thought “your money or your life”—the deal offered here, although this time it’s “all your goods including those rifles, or your lives”—was a stupid offer. Choose “my money” and the enemy winds up with both; choose “my life” and you’re trusting that someone willing to kill you will choose not to. In this case, it eventually becomes clear that “your guns” is the wrong choice–and according to the “good guys” it’s apparently OK to shoot Comanches in the back as they’re fleeing.

The picture’s sort of in color, fading to gray in some (not all) nature shots. It has a problem with nighttime action, in that it sometimes suddenly turns to full daylight when we need to see what’s going on. Ah well. Chill Wills makes an amusing crusty old coot, going a little (well, a lot) overboard about the virtues of Kentucky rifles and singing a mean “Sweet Betsy from Pike,” accompanying himself on a zither. It’s a mess, but I’ve seen worse. I’ll give it $0.75, mostly as a (pseudo)historical document.

Starting here, I’m doing something I should have started long ago: When feasible, writing the first part of the review immediately after finishing the flick—and before checking date, run length, director, etc. on IMDB. I’ve been doing “immediate reviews” in some cases for a while, although not for every movie—but I think there are cases where I really need to offer my views before “informing” them through IMDB. The first movie here is a case in point.

Diamond Thieves (aka The Squeeze), 1978, color. Antonio Margheriti (dir.), Lee Van Cleef, Karen Black, Edward Albert, Lionel Stander, Robert Alda. 1:39 [1:26].

Good cast, well filmed, fast moving—and for some reason I’m pretty sure it’s a TV movie. Or, if it isn’t, it has the hallmarks of an “action” TV movie. How so? Strong cast but no real “openers” (stars who can assure a strong opening week). Catchy music that seems entirely derivative. Some odd plot holes at points. And, maybe most of all: I didn’t feel anything about any of the characters, so I wasn’t saddened or shocked when they were killed. Oh, and the fact that it’s on a disc like this even though it can’t possibly be more than 30 years old, given the cast. The title gives you much of the plot. Thieves stealing from what I take to be other thieves. Things go badly. An imported safecracker survives (wounded) and interacts with various other actors. Lots of double-crosses. Several shootings. Lionel Stander—sidekick Max in Hart to Hart—doesn’t overact in his role as a pawnbroker/fence. Karen Black chews the scenery, as does Van Cleef. And it ends.

So, now I’ll go check IMDB. Hold on… Well, look at that: Not a TV movie. Instead, a cheap Italian/West German production with many different titles in different countries—and the version here is missing several minutes, which may explain some of the plot holes. One IMDB reviewer calls it “European Trash Cinema” and that may be a good description. Well, it could have been a TV movie, even though it got an R rating (presumably for shootings with no gore). I’ll give it $1.25.

Treasure of the Jamaica Reef (aka Evil in the Deep), 1976, color. Virginia L. Stone (dir.), Stephen Boyd, David Ladd, Chuck Woolery, Rosey Grier, Darby Hinton, Cheryl Stoppelmoor, Art Metrano. 1:36 [1:32]

This one’s a little odd, in several ways. The title and some other opening titles are slightly out of focus (maybe a digitization problem). Much of the movie’s filmed underwater—at the site of a real sunken ship off Grenada—and generally very good, although a little murky at times. Lots of voice-overs from Stephen Boyd. It’s about a group of friends who get salvage rights for a sunken 200-year-old Spanish Galleon off Jamaica and set about finding it. They seem undercapitalized, very informal in their methods and way overtrusting. For some reason, they’re not at all concerned when two people on another boat show up more than once—naturally, as it turns out, intending to kill them off and take the treasure.

The only significant female in the cast spends most of her time in a bikini, but does a credible acting job. At the time she was Cheryl Stoppelmoor; she changed that second name to Ladd (by marrying David Ladd, who she met during the filming) and went on to greater fame. For that matter, the cast could suggest a TV movie (Chuck Woolery?), but it’s not. The sleeve description seems bizarre in one respect: “There’s a proverbial fly in the ointment: a big grey fly, known as a killer shark. Made before Jaws, its producers were accused of trying to rip off the Spielberg film.” Well, there’s a mention of sharks, but the cast is never imperiled by killer sharks, at least on in the version I saw: The peril is the people on the other boat.

Apparently this is the G-rated version: The uncut version includes shark violence (and apparently a lot more other violence). Just another indication that nobody at Mill Creek actually watches these movies. I must admit, I suspect I prefer this without the shark; I give it $1.25.

The Klansman, 1974, color. Terence Young (dir.), Lee Marvin, Richard Burton, Cameron Mitchell, O.J. Simpson, Lola Falana, David Huddleston, Luciana Paluzzi, Linda Evans, Ed Call, David Ladd. 1:52 [1:41]

Excellent cast. Mostly decent acting, although nobody was likely to get any award nominations. A “narrow” movie—set over a few days and entirely in one small backwoods Alabama town. Good color, good print, good sound. The missing footage mostly isn’t obvious –most likely omitting a rape scene (and some other violence you really couldn’t show on TV) and otherwise cleaning it up for TV. A jarring movie, not surprisingly, since it deals with coldblooded Klan racism and violence in a period that’s uncomfortably contemporary—a few years after the Voting Rights Act, while some Southern towns still managed to keep blacks from voting. Without giving away much of anything, it’s a dismal ending: Lots of people wind up dead, with no real resolution in sight.

Checking IMDB (after writing the above), I’d have to say it’s not a terrible film. As trimmed here, it’s mediocre, most flawed because it’s somewhere between a violent melodrama and a message picture. As cinema, it’s a mess. As a flick, it’s so-so. $1.25.

Lola (aka Twinky), 1969, color. Richard Donner (dir.), Charles Bronson, Orson Bean, Honor Blackman, Michael Craig, Paul Ford, Jack Hawkins, Trevor Howard, Robert Morley, Susan George. 1:36 [1:18].

An odd one, and if you think the title bears some resemblance to Lolita, you may not be entirely wrong. (Note that there are several other movies named Lola–but I doubt any of them were originally called Twinky!) Charles Bronson (back in his pre-action days) plays a mid-30s American writer (of novels hot enough to get banned in some places) in London, who gets involved with a 16-year-old schoolgirl (in a very short-skirted uniform quite plausible for the time). She convinces her to marry him: In Scotland, at the time, she’s apparently legal without parental consent. Her parents are shocked—but her grandfather (Trevor Howard), somewhat of a dirty old man, seems delighted. They go to America. Things don’t go terribly well. Orson Bean has a good role as Bronson’s lawyer, who thinks the marriage is absurd.

The biggest problem, really, other than titles that seem to focus primarily on the exposed thigh and bent leg of a bicycling schoolgirl, is a total lack of resolution. There’s no ending to speak of. Not that this would have been a great picture anyway—it’s remarkably superficial given the story line. (That could be the missing 18 minutes; they’re not obvious as it stands.) Looking at IMDB after writing the above: Susan George was Lola/Twinky, and 18 at the time. Good print, good sound, surprisingly good cast, generally good acting. Just not much depth or closure. $1.25.

Yes, we watch TV. Not a huge amount (certainly no 21 hours a week). If you don’t count the weekly Netflix movie, figure anywhere from 42 minutes to 1 hour 45 minutes a night, with most nights an hour or less–during the summer, just plain 42 to 48 minutes a night (the run length of great old and newer series on DVD–48 minutes for the older ones, 42 minutes for some of the newest).

Not, as it turns out, enough to justify Expanded Basic cable at Comcast’s steadily increasing rates–I figured out that we–well, I–watched a total of about 20 hours a year on channels beyond the true basic, and given the differential of $35/month, I didn’t think that particular viewing was worth $21 an hour. (Just off hand, I can’t think of any TV viewing that’s worth $21 an hour!) [A curious twist: When we dropped back to basic basic, which Comcast gave me surprisingly little guff about, the one Expanded Basic channel I was watching was adjacent to a must-carry basic basic channel, so it's still visible. For now.]

One reason we haven’t purchased a DVR yet: Given how little we watch or want to watch, it’s hard to justify the monthly fee for a TiVo, and that’s about all that’s left on the market. (We still have an S-VHS VCR. For now, that’s good enough.)

But hey, come the new season, we’re willing to give some things a try, looking at show descriptions, local reviews, other sources. Rarely anything at 10 p.m. (I’m an early bird–we’re taping Men in Trees), no procedurals or other cop series, very few over-laugh-tracked comedies.
This season began with some intriguing and odd possibilities (heavily overlapping circles) and our big-paper local critic had definite thoughts on them, mostly similar to most other TV critics, from what I can see. For series we were at least mildly interested in, those thoughts could be summarized:

• Reaper: The hot series, must watch, great stuff.
• Chuck: Maybe OK, but derivative and with too many similarities to Reaper, which after all, is a sure thing winner.
• Pushing Daisies: Quirky as all get out but an outside possibility.
• Moonlight: It got the rare SF Chronicle #5 Little Man: The empty chair, the worst possible rating. The review was scathing even by this reviewer’s harsh standards. But, hey, we watch Angel on DVD and loved Buffy–might another “good vampire” series be worth trying?
• Back to You: Great cast, but will anybody really watch an old-fashioned three-camera sitcom in the 21st century?
• Aliens in America: Much more favorably reviewed as a fresh new comedy.

So Reaper was the sure thing…

Now, what follows are what we think; there’s no reason anybody else should agree. That said:

• Moonlight: The critic was right. We couldn’t make it through 15 minutes before giving up. Without Joss Whedon’s genius, this was just a mess. Cross that one off.
• Reaper: Strong start, but it seems to be a one-trick pony and the ensemble isn’t gelling very well. We’ve basically given up on this one. (Great Devil, though–but even there, a one-trick role.) Gone.
• Chuck: Here, the ensemble seems to keep getting stronger and the premise allows an unusually wide latitude. We’re sold on this one, at least for now. (As always, your mileage may vary.) I’d say the critic was too enchanted by Reaper and too negative about Chuck.
• Pushing Daisies: Yes. A mannered show (the saturated color palette, the deadpan vocal deliveries, the nature of the narration) and a completely bizarre premise (not that Chuck and Reaper have, shall we, say, everyday premises)–but the cast, writers, directors pull it off with style. Here, too, the critic was right (for our tastes).
• And the two sitcoms are both, well, sitcoms. I screwed up taking Back to You, missing the show entirely, and we weren’t particularly upset–but the cast is solid and we’ll watch it when it’s convenient and there’s nothing better to do. Aliens in America–well, so-so.

Otherwise? I already mentioned Men in Trees We’re still enjoying Bones (although it’s certainly odd as an 8 p.m. series). Oh, and of course, How I Met Your Mother–and, with Dana Delaney added, Desperate Housewives. We’ll probably lose at least one more as the season progresses…
Is there a point here? Mostly that, when two shows have somewhat similar premises (mostly that the key characters in both Chuck and Reaper work in big-box stores), it’s hard to tell which will thrive and which will wither–and that, for us, it’s mostly up to whether the ensemble works and whether the premise turns out to be stultifying.

Three more second features, albeit none with singing cowboys—and a fine full-length movie.

Phantom Rancher, 1940, b&w, Harry L. Fraser (dir.), Ken Maynard, Dorothy Short, Harry Harvey, Ted Adams. 1:01.

Apparently this flick was late in Maynard’s career of trick riding and solid acting. The acting’s solid—but the film’s gimmick doesn’t make a lot of sense. Maynard’s uncle is gunned down, and he arrives to take over, finding that his uncle was universally loathed and he now holds mortgages on most of the farms. Naturally, an evil gang is behind this; naturally, the most respected man in town is the villain. Maynard plays an odd game: Telling the sheriff to foreclose on Ranch X the next day if the money’s not there, then showing up in a mask and cloak at Ranch X that night, dropping off enough money to pay off the mortgage—while Maynard’s character is also joining the gang. Of course it all works out: It’s an old-time one-hour Western. Good enough for $1.00.

Broadway to Cheyenne, 1932, b&w, Harry L Fraser (dir.), Rex Bell, Marceline Day, Matthew Betz, Huntley Gordon, George ‘Gabby’ Hayes. 1:00 [0:51].

Truly strange: Rex Bell plays a New York cop who gets injured in a gang shootout and sent home to recuperate—“home” being a ranch near Cheyenne. One of the gangs has high-tailed it to Wyoming and is setting up a ranchers’ protection racket—and in the process, riding around in a car with a gunsel using a machine gun to kill off cattle. Naturally, the honorable cowboy/cop on his horse (and several other outraged actual cowboys/ranchers) manages to defeat the gang and their machine gun. The print’s very choppy and missing nine minutes of dialogue. George Hayes wasn’t really “Gabby” yet, just another rancher. At best $0.75.

Stagecoach to Denver, 1946, b&w, R.G. Springsteen (dir.), Allan Lane, Martha Wentworth, Roy Barcroft, Peggy Stewart, Robert Blake. 0:56 [0:53].

Allan Lane is Red Ryder in this odd story of character doubles and corrupt sheriffs and land commissioners. The sleeve says “Star: Robert Blake,” but that’s nonsense: 13-year-old Bobby Blake plays a minor (if pivotal) role as a sick child. It’s decent entertainment if you don’t look too closely. $1.00

Angel and the Badman, 1947, b&w, James Edward Grant (dir.), John Wayne, Gail Russell, Harry Carey, Bruce Cabot, Irene Rich, Lee Dixon, Tom Powers, John Halloran. 1:40.

The first full-length film in this set—and it’s a beauty. It’s also the first film John Wayne produced, and has been called Wayne’s most romantic Western, and I can believe that. I almost didn’t watch this because I’d already reviewed it in another set—but then realized that set wasn’t one of the 50-Movie Packs (it was the “DoubleDouble Feature Pack” given away with subscriptions to the doomed InsideDVD). When I reviewed that disc (C&I 4:12, October 2004), I complained about the print quality but found the movie good enough to get past the problems. Fortunately, this pack uses a much better print, with no apparent noise, scratches, or missing frames—one of the best prints I’ve seen in these megapacks.

So what about the movie? John Wayne is a fast-shooting bad man, Quirt Evans, who winds up injured and in a Quaker household. The girl of the household (Russell) cares for him and falls for him—and the way Wayne looked at age 40, it’s not hard to see why. (In one or two scenes he smiles an open smile instead of his usual hard-ass half-smile: It’s a revelation.) After a series of situations and tribulations, some of them involving other bad men out to get Wayne, all ends well. The movie’s generally well acted (although the cynical old Doctor does do a bit of scenery-chewing), with a particularly good job by Harry Carey as the sheriff who waits patiently for Quirt to screw up so he can hang.

What makes the movie remarkable, other than good plot, good acting (I’ve never been a big Wayne fan, but maybe that’s my mistake, and Russell’s excellent as well—as are Cabot, Rich, and the rest), and good filmmaking, is the gimmick. This isn’t exactly a plot spoiler—the movie’s 60 years old—but skip this sentence if you feel it will lessen your enjoyment: Wayne never once fires a gun during the picture (except maybe under the title). A fine picture and a good print—I enjoyed watching it again. $2.

Monsoon, 1943, b&w, Edgar G. Ulmer (dir.), John Carradine, Gale Sondergaard, Sidney Toler, Frank Fenton, Veda Ann Borg, Rita Quickley, Rick Vallin. Original title: Isle of Forgotten Sins. 1:22 [1:16, same as National Film Museum print]

The sleeve description says “A young couple travel to India to a remote jungle village, to announce their betrothal to the bride’s parents…” and so on, and lists George Nader as the star. If the person preparing the sleeve copy checked IMDB or standard reference works, they no doubt based that on the 1952 flick Monsoon—directed by Rodney Amateau, starring George Nader, Ursula Thiess, Diana Douglas and others.

This is an entirely different movie with an entirely different plot, filmed nine years earlier (with an entirely different title) and not even set in the same country. It’s about greed, gold, diving and weather; it starts in a South Seas gambling hall/brothel and winds up in a similar establishment. In between? Better than you might expect, partly because there really are no heroes among this strong cast. $1.25.

Borderline, 1950, b&w, William A. Seiter (dir.), Fred MacMurray, Claire Trevor, Raymond Burr, José Torvay, Morris Ankrum. 1:28.

Maybe I saw too much of Raymond Burr on TV, but his bad-guy movie roles always strike me as suiting him better—and this one’s no exception. Burr is a drug ringleader (or one rung below leader) in Mexico, MacMurray and Trevor two different American agents sent—by two different agencies—to infiltrate the gang. Naturally, each of them thinks the other one’s part of the gang. Naturally, they fall in love. Naturally, it all works out. It is an odd combination—part comedy, part noir, part “melodrama” as the sleeve says—but, to my mind, t works pretty well. For that matter, MacMurray makes a fine leading man and tough guy. I found it enjoyable and the print’s pretty good. $1.50.

Indiscretion of an American Wife, 1953, b&w, Vittorio de Sica (dir.), Jennifer Jones, Montgomery Clift, Richard Beymer, Gino Cervi. Dialogue by Truman Capote. Original title: Stazione Termini. 1:12, 1:30, 1:03 in U.S. release [1:03].

This one’s supposed to be a minor classic, but of course anything by Vittorio de Sica is supposed to be a minor classic. The plot’s pretty simple: Jennifer Jones (the “American wife”) has been somehow involved with the “Italian” Montgomery Clift and is now returning to her husband and child. The two meet in the train station and talk and talk and emote and talk and… Unfortunately, Capote or no Capote, it’s not very interesting talk. I’m not anti-romantic: I saw and loved Before Sunrise and Before Sunset, and generally like good romances. This one…well, at just over an hour it seemed way too long; I can’t imagine sitting through the 90-minute version. For serious fans of de Sica or Jones, I’d reluctantly give it $1.

The North Star, 1943, b&w, Lewis Milestone (dir.), Lillian Hellman (screenplay & story), Anne Baxter, Dana Andrews, Walter Huston, Walter Brennan, Ann Harding, Farley Granger, Erich von Stroheim, Dean Jagger. Music by Aaron Copland. 1:48 [1:45].

What starpower! What historical drama! What sweep! What…well, nonsense, at least historically. The first quarter of the movie is bizarre, as it depicts the healthy, happy, well-fed, joyous occupants of a Ukraine farming village who all have what they need thanks to benevolent Communism. They sing, they dance, they have little in common with real Ukrainians at the start of World War II. Then their idyllic way of life is shattered by the Nazi invasion; the remainder of the movie is all about the occupation of their village, barbaric draining of children’s blood by evil doctors, and the brave defense by a group of horse-riding village men hiding in the hills.

If you read the whole set of IMDB reviews, you might think this is some sort of early Hollywood Communist plot (you know that old Commie Walter Brennan, right?)—as opposed to a wartime propaganda film made at the request of the President, to help convince Americans that Russians were our allies and should be thought of more favorably. This is, then, a true period piece: A picture that could not have been made with that much star power two years earlier or five years later. All that said, and all those fine actors admired, it’s just not a very good movie–not only does it romanticize the USSR, it’s sort of a mess dramatically. At most $1.

[In addition to Tex Ritter, star of the five flicks on Disc 1], two other singing cowboys also made loads of westerns in the 1930s, 1940s and beyond, winding up with their own TV shows: Gene Autry and Roy Rogers (who both died in 1998, Autry 91 years old, Rogers a mere 86).

This disc includes five more one-hour oaters, apparently with slightly better budgets and certainly more skillful production and acting than the Tex Ritter quintet on Disc 1. All five are Republic pictures directed by Joseph Kane; four of the five have dual timings on IMDB (original and a slightly shorter TV-edited time), and in most cases the version here is the shorter one.

It’s interesting to compare the three heroes, noting that these movies aren’t necessarily characteristic for their careers—particularly not for Roy Rogers.

Where Tex Ritter plays some character with the first name Tex, a cowboy who also happens to sing a little, Gene Autry always plays Gene Autry, a singing cowboy—who might also have some other job (he’s a ranch foreman in one of these but also an entertainer), and pretty much always has a group of singers with him. He sings far more naturally here than Tex Ritter does in his early flicks and also acts considerably better. Oh, and his sidekick’s always Smiley Burnette, clearly a costar with high billing and his “Froggy” character name and vocal abilities.

Then there’s Roy Rogers. In his early movies (1938-1939—there are earlier ones but he’s not credited except as part of the Sons of the Pioneers), he plays a character named Roy Rogers. In his later movies, from 1942 on (he did more than 100 in all), he plays Roy Rogers, frequently with his wife Dale Evans. In these three 1940 movies and in a group of other 1940 and 1941 movies, he plays entirely different characters—and he hadn’t met Dale yet. While Gabby Hayes is a costar of all three films, always as a boastful lovable old coot, he isn’t always Rogers’ sidekick (but always has the same character name, Gabby Whittaker). There isn’t all that much music in these; then again, none of Rogers’ characters are musicians as such.

If you remember the later Autry and Rogers, both consistently fine singers but a little more weathered, the young Autry and the very young Rogers (freshfaced and 29 years old) are remarkable. Rogers is instantly recognizable, particularly with that voice and smile. My last (and lasting) memory of Roy Rogers comes from 1990: His duet with Randy Travis on “Happy Trails” (written by Dale Evans)—and his voice at age 78 or 79 was still fine.

Round-Up Time in Texas, 1937, b&w, Joseph Kane (dir.), Gene Autry, Smiley Burnette, Maxine Doyle, LeRoy Mason, Champion. 1:03/0:54 [0:55]

Here’s a curious one. The title is the name of the song under the titles and elsewhere in the movie—but the movie, at least most of it, is set in South Africa. Seems Gene Autry’s brother has found a big diamond mine and needs horses, so Gene and his sidekick have to take a whole bunch over by boat. Naturally, evildoers intervene…and, sigh, a “native” tribe gets involved, with a bunch of kids who instantaneously learn five-part harmony singing flawless English. As with the next flick, this is supposed to be contemporary. While the singing is great and the acting’s decent, the plot’s even more ridiculous than most and the stereotypes are unfortunate. $0.75.

Springtime in the Rockies, 1937, b&w, Joseph Kane (dir.), Gene Autry, Smiley Burnette, Polly Rowles, George Chesebro, Champion. 0:56/0:54 [0:55]

Were cattlemen still fighting against incursion of sheep in 1937? I thought the range wars were pretty much over by 1920 or so, and maybe this flick is set slightly in the past (but it does mix seemingly 1930s-vintage cars and horses). Anyway, Gene’s the foreman at a cattle ranch and an entertainer; the young woman who actually owns the ranch shows up fresh out of college with an animal husbandry degree. Somehow she buys a bunch of sheep—and the cattlemen will gladly kill her and Autry to get rid of them. Autry convinces her that a dilapidated, worthless farm (which he won in a poker game and can’t give away) is her ranch and too poor even to raise sheep. Lots of action ensues, including the usual “frame the hero for murder” bit. Well played, and apart from historical issues the plot’s pretty good too—as is the music. $1.00 as a one-hour flick.

The Carson City Kid, 1940, b&w, Joseph Kane (dir.), Roy Rogers, Gabby Hayes, Bob Steele, Noah Beery Jr., Pauline Moore, Francis McDonald, Hal Taliaferro. 0:57 [0:53].

The jacket copy says “Roy Rogers, posing as The Carson City Kid, is determined to exact vengeance on his brother’s killer, Morgan Reynolds.” The way it looked to me, Roy Rogers played the Carson City Kid, an “outlaw” who stopped stages only to look for a particular letter leading him to Reynolds. Unfortunately, his sidekick (not Hayes) is a thorough scoundrel. Fairly typical plot, but Rogers brings flair to the role and the rest of the cast is good as well. $1.00

Colorado, 1940, b&w, Joseph Kane (dir.), Roy Rogers, Gabby Hayes, Pauline Moore, Milburn Stone, Maude Eburne, Arthur Loft, Hal Taliaferro. 0:57/0:54 [0:53].

Set in the Civil War, with Rebs posing as a Preservation of the Union group in Colorado financing Indians and renegades to keep the troops too busy to go fight. Rogers is Lieutenant Burke, sent to investigate. Among other things, he finds that his brother’s one of the problems—but Burke eventually saves the day. Another good cast, fine acting, a coherent plot, and Roy Rogers—who here as in the other pictures gets the girl (except that Rogers tends to marry the girl as well). Even for a short flick, this gets $1.25.

Young Bill Hickock, 1940, b&w, Joseph Kane (dir.), Roy Rogers, Gabby Hayes, Julie Bishop, John Miljan, Sally Payne, Hal Taliaferro. 0:59/0:54 [0:53].

Also set in the Civil War, near its end. Rogers is Bill Hickock, sent with his sidekick Calamity Jane to investigate Indian uprisings that threaten to cut communications to the West Coast. The villain is a highly-respected townsman who’s actually an agent from some unnamed country, out to seize California and its gold while the Civil War’s progressing. Some great stunts and solid acting; if you can ignore the “history” it’s a nice little movie. $1.25.

A Walk in the Sun, 1945, b&w, Lewis Milestone (dir.), Dana Andrews, Richard Conte, George Tyne, John Ireland, Lloyd Bridges, Sterling Holloway, Huntz Hall. 1:57.

The walk is from the beach at Salerno to a farmhouse six miles inland; the time, the Allied invasion of Italy in World War II. Quite a good movie, with (as the sleeve says) “long quiet stretches of talk with random bursts of violent action whose relevance to the big picture is often unknown to the soldiers.” There’s some damage, but it’s a fine war movie with good performances. $1.50.

The Most Dangerous Game, 1932, b&w, Irving Pichel and Ernest B. Schoedsack (dirs.), Joel McCrea, Fay Wray, Leslie Banks, Robert Armstrong. 1:03.

Rich hunter on a boat trip; the buoys don’t look quite right to the captain, but he insists they continue—leading to a shipwreck which he alone survives. He winds up at a castle on a remote island, hosted by Count Zaroff, who recognizes him as a great hunter and boasts of hunting “the most dangerous game.” Other than a bunch of Russian-only servants, the only other ones there are a couple (also survivors of a shipwreck), with the man a somewhat drunken mess. Eventually, it becomes clear just what the most dangerous game is. Scratchy soundtrack but an effective, fast-moving flick. $1.50.

The Stars Look Down, 1940, b&w, Carol Reed (dir.), Michael Redgrave, Margaret Lockwood, Emlyn Williams. 1:50 [1:40]

British drama set in a coal mining community and apparently full of social implications—the union’s pretty much deserted the working men, the mine owner’s hiding a map that indicates that the mine is in danger of being flooded, a strike doesn’t help. Strike leader’s son goes off to university on scholarship but somehow drops out before the last year to marry a gold-digger he’s barely met—and who is, of course, desperately unhappy (and indolent) in the mining town. The problem is that the movie doesn’t go anywhere—sure, there’s the expected flood, sure, the conniving wife runs off with someone else, but there’s no sense of conclusion. Maybe the missing 10 minutes would help? $1.00.

The Bigamist, 1953, b&w, Ida Lupino (dir.), Joan Fontaine, Ida Lupino, Edmund Gwenn, Edmond O’Brien. 1:20.

Harry Graham is a traveling salesman for the company he and his wife run in San Francisco; he seems to spend most of his traveling time around LA. He’s grown a little distant from his wife of eight years, and somehow winds up in bed with Ida Lupino in LA—and that one occasion, naturally, leaves her pregnant. Thus the title, and the film seems to say “well, he’s a decent man who got mixed up.” I could suggest that decent men don’t cheat on their wives, but I suppose that would be Puritanical. Scratchy but well-acted (with Joan Fontaine and Ida Lupino, what would you expect?). $1.25.

Roy Rogers is riding again…and Tex Ritter, Gene Autry, John Wayne and a slew of others, some singing, some not.

This is one of the early 50-Movie Packs: You can tell by the silent still TreeLine logo that starts each side. (Somewhat later ones have the same logo with motion effects and music. More recent ones have an animated MillCreek logo with sound effects.)

Many of these movies were one-hour second features, “oaters” to fill the second half of a double bill. Not all, by any means, but the total running time for the 50 movies is just under 60 hours (59:57)—more than the original Family Classics (56:36) but a lot less than, say, the Classic Musicals (66:5) or the Hollywood Legends I’m interleaving this with (73:44, about as long as any 50-pack is likely to get). I should note that those timings come from the Mill Creek Entertainment website, which now seems extremely forthcoming about what’s in each set and its actual length (although lots of the disc sleeves are still inaccurate).

Some of the discs cluster films with the same star. That can be a trifle disconcerting. For starters, five early Tex Ritter movies right in a row is probably two too many.

Disc 1

Tex Ritter did an awful lot of movies in the late 1930s and early 1940s, and you can read that any way you want. How many? Forty “Tex” movies between 1936 and 1942—in all of which his character’s first name was “Tex.” Then he did another 20 between 1942 and 1945, movies where he learned a different name for the role.

Ritter was important as a country singer and may be best known today for his singing of “Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling” in High Noon—and, of course, as the father of John Ritter. As an actor and singing cowboy, particularly in these five movies from the first three years of his movie career (1936-1938), including the first? Not so much.

You could count on several things in these pictures: Ritter doing fancy (and fast) shooting, typically shooting some gunslinger’s gun out of his hand. A big fight scene, where Ritter triumphs—and the bad guy’s cohorts don’t try to draw their guns until Ritter’s done (at which point Ritter’s companion draws on them, of course). Ritter wearing a white hat (and riding his white horse White Flash) and the well-dressed lead villain (usually) wearing a black hat. A young woman deeply involved in the plot, and Ritter riding away or otherwise ending up with her (and companion, sometimes) at the end of the film—sometimes married, sometimes not.

Oh, and Ritter singing with a big smile on his face. In the first two movies here and to some extent in the others, I’d call it “singifyin’” more than singing—akin to speechifyin’ as compared to speaking. He overdoes it, going for extra effects and becoming a parody of country singing—sometimes with songs that seem to be twelve-bar compositions repeated over and over again. It’s clear that Ritter could sing well and without overdoing it, particularly since he does that (sometimes) in his very first movie. I can only assume that the over-the-top style was what his director or audience wanted.

Rollin’ Plains, 1938, b&w, Albert Herman (dir.), Tex Ritter, White Flash, Horace Murphy, Snub Pollard, Harriet Bennet, Hobart Bosworth, Ed Cassidy, Karl Hackett, Charles King, Beverly Hillbillies. 0:57

Texas Ranger Tex Lawrence is tracking down a troublemaker who’s causing grief between the sheep farmers and the cattlemen. (This time, the villains are the sheep farmers.) While gang leader Trigger Gargan is the obvious culprit, the real culprit’s a leading citizen. Smilin’ Tex and his goofy sidekicks save the day after getting in various sorts of peril, and of course he gets the girl. One of those with a huge battle on horses, where it’s really not clear who’s shooting at who—just lots of stunt men on lots of horses shooting, once in a while one of them falling over. Dark, choppy, damaged. Very charitably, $0.75.

Sing Cowboy Sing, 1937, b&w, Robert N. Bradbury (dir.), Tex Ritter, White Flash, Al St. John, Louise Stanley, Horace Murphy, Snub Pollard, Karl Hackett, Robert McKenzie, The Texas Tornadoes. 0:59.

This time, the ruthless gang leader shoots the man running a “freight company” so they can get the contract and take over the town. The woman in peril is the daughter. Tex (not a Ranger this time) and a different goofy sidekick saves the day, after getting thrown in jail. Note cast overlaps: White Flash always plays a horse, but the sidekick on one picture may be the sheriff in the next, and so on…even the villains tend to reappear. Also the murky gun battle. This one’s damaged, choppy, and really pretty awful. Purely for historical value, a token $0.25.

The Mystery of the Hooded Horseman, 1937, b&w, Ray Taylor (dir.), Tex Ritter, White Flash, Iris Meredith, Horace Murphy, Charles King, Earl Dwire, The Range Ramblers. 1:00.

My notes here consist of “arrggh…” But that may be unfair. Slightly different plot (this time it’s a bunch of hooded horsemen—not just one—terrorizing folks and in particular a should-be-worthless mine), same-as-usual woman in distress and Tex with a sidekick. Once again he gets arrested. Once again there’s a different villain than you’d expect. Once again…oh, never mind. At least the singing’s a little more normal. $0.50.

Arizona Days, 1937, b&w, John English (dir.), Tex Ritter, Sid Saylor, William Faversham, Eleanor Stewart, Snub Pollard, Horace Murphy, Earl Dwire, Bud Buster. 0:57 [0:41]

This one’s truly frustrating. Tex and yet another sidekick join up with a traveling show (essentially buying their way in—Tex pays debts owed by the show in its last town), so Tex gets to sing on a stage for a change. Then, suddenly, Tex is out trying to collect delinquent taxes from some villainous types. What happened here? What happened here is 16 minutes—a missing reel in the middle of the movie, during which (apparently) the show’s wagons get burned down and Tex has to become a tax collector to make ends meet. Better singing and a different plot (sort of), but messed up pretty badly by the missing reel. Assuming that you pay any attention to the plot in these anyway… Even so, $0.75.

Song of the Gringo, 1936, b&w, John P. McCarthy (dir.), Tex Ritter, Joan Woodbury, Fuzzy Knight, Monte Blue, Ted Adams, Forrest Taylor. 1:02.

The first of the lot and the most unusual. Tex (a Ranger again, I think) is sent to investigate the deaths of a bunch of miners and goes undercover to infiltrate the gang that’s probably murdering them. Most of this is set in a Spanish (or early California?) ranchero with the beautiful senorita as love interest, and the true villain a business partner of the head of the ranchero. Lots of singing, with one song wildly over the top but most pretty good. Oh, and this time Tex gets blamed for several murders, put on trial, and does a Perry Mason bit, sort of. Choppy and damaged, but in some ways the best of this lot. $0.75.

Like the original Family Classics 50 Movie Pack (C&I 5:4 and 5:7, March and May 2005) and 50-Movie All Stars Collection (C&I 6:4 and 6:14, March and December 2006), this collection isn’t limited to any genre. Like the Family Classics set, it’s mostly very old movies and includes quite a number that do qualify as classics or at least significant films of the times. (The All Stars Collection was TV movies.)

Once again, I’m interleaving two of the packs, roughly alternating these discs with the 50 Movie Western Classics collection. Walt Crawford? Westerns? I wouldn’t have thought so, but the westerns that showed up in previous collections reminded me just how much good entertainment Westerns have to offer. That set may be strange, as it appears to be organized by star: I’ll let you know how I feel about five Tex Ritter movies in a row, when I finish that disc in a couple of weeks.

Hedy Lamarr is a successful magazine editor by day, a love-em-and-leave-em type at night, and it’s killing her. She drops out, moves to Greenwich Village to paint, falls in love with a scientist in the same building (O’Keefe)—and can’t escape an old paramour. Murder ensues, with a solid attempt to frame her. The naïve scientist is disillusioned, but things work out. Fine drama, well acted. Downgraded for a noisy soundtrack, but still $1.25.

Good News, 1947, color, Charles Walters (dir.), June Allyson, Peter, Lawford, Patricia Marshall, Joan McCracken, Mel Tormé. 1:35 [1:33].

This one should have been in the Musicals pack—it’s a full-fledged big-show-number musical set at Tait College, with Peter Lawford as the quarterback and June Allyson as a retiring coed. There’s lots more to the plot, of course, but this a big, full-Technicolor, big-production-number musical including numbers such as “The Best Things in Life are Free.” The picture’s in excellent shape, as is the sound. $2.00.

Tom Brown’s School Days, 1940, b&w, Robert Stevenson (dir.), Sir Cedric Hardwicke, Freddy Bartholomew, Jimmy Lydon, Gale Storm. 1:26 [1:20]

The problems of a boy new to Rugby (the school) and the headmaster trying to reform it from a rowdy bunch of hooligans into a first-rate school. Well played. Downrated for seriously damaged soundtrack. $1.25.

Second Chorus, 1940, b&w, H.C. Potter (dir.), Fred Astaire, Paulette Goddard, Artie Shaw, Charles Butterworth, Burgess Meredith. 1:24.

[Film also appears in Musical Classics; review repeated from C&I 7:5] The timeless Fred Astaire and a very young Burgess Meredith as two “friendly”-rival musicians who’ve managed to stay in college, running a collegiate band, for seven years. They hire a gorgeous (and very effective) manager, somehow both graduate, and both try to get into Artie Shaw’s band, sabotaging each other along the way. Some slapstick, decent plot, lots of Shaw’s music and some other good numbers, and there’s a little dancing in there too. $1.50.

How do you get 50 movies on 12 discs when there are exactly four each on the first 11? You guessed it—six short flicks on the final disc. One of them is a small gem; the others, not so much.

Fiesta, 1941, color, LeRoy Prinz (dir.), Anne Ayars, Jorge Negrete, Armida, George Givot, Antonio Moreno, The Guadalajara Trio, José Arias and the Tipica Orchestra of the Mexico City Police. 0:45.

Remember The Dancing Pirate (C&I 7:5, May 2007), filmed in color but only available in black and white? I said I’d love to see that one in color. Well, this somewhat similar (albeit much shorter and less complex) film, also set in a Mexican rancho and with good folkloric dancing, is in color—and spectacular original Technicolor at that, more colorful than most later movies. The plot is simple enough—the rancho owner’s niece is returning from Mexico City and her childhood sweetheart expects they’ll be married, but she shows up with a bozo hunk of a radio actor who she’s engaged to…anyway, it all works out. Almost all of the movie is music, singing and dance, all well done, in simply spectacular costumes and color. The print is in excellent shape; it almost seemed to be DVD quality. Truly a small gem. $1.50 only because it’s too short for $2 or more.

Let’s Go Collegiate, 1941, b&w, Jean Yarbrough (dir.), Frankie Darro, Marcia May Jones, Jackie Moran, Keye Luke, Mantan Moreland, Frank Sully, Gale Storm. 1:02

Silly college-fraternity plot based on rowing and a crook passing for a new oarsman. Not many songs, but the ones here are good. Very early Gale Storm (she was 19 at the time), and she does stand out. $1.

Up in the Air, 1940, b&w, Howard Bretherton (dir.), Frankie Darro, Marjorie Reynolds, Mantan Moreland, Gordon Jones, Lorna Gray, Tristram Coffin, Clyde Dilson. 1:02.

Apparently Darro and Moreland made a number of buddy pictures. In this case, they both work at a radio station where a mediocre singer gets shot (as, later, do a couple of others) and Darro tries to solve the crime and get on the air. Lightweight comedy, but not bad. $0.75.

Minstrel Man, 1944, b&w, Joseph H. Lewis (dir.), Benny Fields, Gladys George, Alan Dinehart, Roscoe Karns, Jerome Cowan, Judy Clark, John Raitt (as himself). 1:10 [1:03].

Two Oscar nominations, for best scoring and best original song (“Remember Me to Carolina”), and apparently based on a real character’s success, fall from grace (after his wife dies in childbirth) and eventual redemption. Fields as Dixie Boy Johnson is less than magnetic on the screen and has an odd singing style that you may love or hate. Lots of music, to be sure, much of it very good. Whether you like this movie or not may depend on your tolerance for blackface: Fields and, later, Judy Clark as his daughter (Dixie Girl Johnson on stage), both white, both use classic blackface for their minstrel-show roles. I find that too unsettling (especially in 1944) to give the film more than $1.00.

Rhythm in the Clouds, 1937, b&w, John H. Auer (dir.), Patricia Ellis, Warren Hull, William Newell. 0:53.

Nicely done, with more than enough plot for its modest length. An aspiring songwriter cons her way into the apartment of a successful writer who’s out of town, sells her songs as being cowritten with the missing artist and somehow manages to pull things together when he returns. Good music, nicely paced, a good “second film.” $1.25.

Sitting on the Moon, 1936, b&w, Ralph Staub (dir.), Roger Pryor, Grace Bradley, William Newell, Henry Kolker. 0:54.

William Newell, a nervous sidekick in the previous flick, is also a sidekick this time—as a lyricist to Danny West, who falls for a failing movie star, writes her a song, makes her a success on radio but in the process winds up failing himself (aided by a bogus Mexican marriage while he was drunk). Naturally it all works out. Enough good music to make it work, but enough missing frames in the print to make it awkward. $0.75.

And that’s it for the Classic Musicals pack. Next up? Hollywood Legends. I note that Mill Creek Media is now selling 100-movie packs–each combining two of the more than two dozen 50-movie packs. Hmm…

If it seems as though this set of reviews came fairly soon after Disc 10, the reason’s simple enough: Side A is, once again, movies that I’ve already reviewed in other Movie Packs–and the first movie on Side B was short.

Jack and the Beanstalk, 1952, color and sepiatone, Jean Yarbrough (dir.), Bud Abbott, Lou Costello, Buddy Baer. 1:10. [1:21]

[Also in Family Classics pack, not rereviewed.] I’m not sure why IMDB lists this as 11 minutes shorter than the running time on the DVD, but an Argentine release was apparently somewhere in the middle. This was another pleasant surprise. The surround, in sepia, has Abbott and Costello trying to babysit a rotten kid. The middle, in color, is the book Costello reads to him—or, rather, has the kid read to Costello. It’s a vivid retelling with songs added (which don’t help), with Costello as Jack and Abbott as the greedy butcher (who also climbs up to the castle). Not a laugh a minute, but well done. The print’s good but the sound is a little harsh sometimes. As for the acting, it’s fine—except for the Handsome Prince, who—when supposedly courting the Beautiful Princess (both assuming the roles of commoners, both held by the Giant)—seems to be looking over her shoulder either in a mirror or at his boyfriend. All in all, though, pretty good. $1.50

The Road to Hollywood, 1946, b&w, Bud Pollard (dir.), Bing Crosby, Bud Pollard (narrator). 0:56 [0:53]

[Also in Family Classics pack, not rereviewed.] Bud Pollard, an exploitation director, came up with a stunt to make some quick bucks. He uncovered three comedy shorts made by Danny Kaye for Mack Sennett; when Danny Kaye hit it big in the movies, Pollard stitched footage from the three into a movie he called Birth of a Star—a perfect second feature for theaters that could advertise a big-name star. So Pollard did the same again, this time stitching together excerpts from four Mack Sennett two-reelers starring Bing Crosby, made in 1931 and 1932, with lots of Pollard narration and laudatory comments. The whole thing is just a different form of exploitation. The four short musical comedies on their own might be interesting; the composite is a mess. The print’s only so-so. $0.50

The Big Show, 1936, b&w, Mack V. Wright (dir.), Gene Autry, Smiley Burnette, Kay Hughes, Sally Payne, William Newell, Max Terhune, Sons of the Pioneers, the Jones Boys, the Beverly Hillbillies, the Light Crust Doughboys, Champion, Rex King. 1:10/0:54. [0:55]

The plot: Tom Ford’s making a movie with Gene Autry as his stuntman. Ford goes on vacation (and to hide out from $10,000 gambling debts) and the studio publicist says he’s needed at the Texas World’s Fair in Dallas (where most of this was filmed). Solution? Have Gene Autry don a fake mustache and impersonate Tom Ford. But Ford doesn’t sing—and that’s Autry’s big thing. Lots of music, lots of action with the gangster (who decides to blackmail the studio about the Autry-as-Ford thing, which doesn’t work well because the studio loves having a singing cowboy). Autry wasn’t that hot as an actor at the time, but since he was also playing Ford, he acted as well as Ford. More show biz than western, but plenty of music—and the Beverly Hillbillies were a western singing group a long time before it was a TV show. $1.50.

Black Tights (orig. 1-2-3-4 ou Les Collants noirs), 1960, color, Terence Young (dir.), Maurice Chevalier, Zizi Jeanmaire, Cyd Charisse, Roland Petit, Moira Shearer, Ballets de Paris of Roland Petit. 2:20/2:05 [2:03]

This one’s odd and tough to evaluate. It’s four dance performances—The Diamond Crusher, Cyrano de Bergerac, A Merry Mourning and Carmen—with Maurice Chevalier introducing them and providing some English narration. I have no idea how good the dances are (the costumes are fine and done by name designers), although they seemed enjoyable enough. I’d guess this isn’t world-class choreography. The print’s OK (not great), the sound’s OK as well. The big problem: This is a widescreen film, using “curtains” of sorts as black bars. It’s mediocre VHS quality. That means there just isn’t much picture detail to work with—maybe 2/3 of VHS’ 230 lines, if that. As a result, wide shots involving more than two people are so soft as to be uninteresting. A true DVD version (using all 480 lines of DVD, with anamorphic conversion for the widescreen) might or might not be more interesting. As it is, I’m almost reluctant to say $1.25.

If it seems as though not much time has gone by since Disc 9, there’s a simple reason: The first two movies on this disc were repeats from the Family Classics pack, and I didn’t watch them a second time–although I watched the first quarter of Royal Wedding again because it’s such a delight. Expect Disc 11 soon, for the same reason: both movies on Side A are repeats.

Royal Wedding, 1951, color, Stanley Donen (dir.), Fred Astaire, Jane Powell, Peter Lawford, Sarah Churchill, Keenan Wynn. 1:33.

[Note: This movie was also in the Family Classics megapack and the review that follows is from that copy. The movie is such a treat that I watched part of it again; the color and sound are both fine.] Fred Astaire dancing on the walls, on the ceiling, and on a cruise ship dance floor in heavy seas—with Jane Powell, who’s very good. Excellent print through most of the movie (with slight damage in a few minutes), and a wonderful movie—not much of a plot (and Peter Lawford didn’t exactly set the screen on fire with his thespian abilities), but great dancing, fine singing, and just plain charming. Technicolor, generally vivid color. $2.00

The Pied Pier of Hamelin, 1957, color, Bretaigne Windust (dir.), Van Johnson, Claude Raines, Jim Backus, Kay Starr, Doodles Weaver. 1:29 [1:27]

[Also in the Family Classics megapack and not newly reviewed.] Made for TV? While the print’s generally very good, there are quite a few little gaps—more disturbing than usual since this is a musical. Van Johnson has two roles (one of them the Pied Piper). The conceit here is that the music is all by Grieg. The problem here is that it’s a lackluster picture. OK, but no more than that. $0.75.

Wild Guitar, 1962, b&w, Ray Dennis Teckler (dir.), Arch Hall Jr., Nancy Czar, Arch Hall Sr., Ray Dennis Steckler. 1:32 [1:29].

Remember Eegah? (C&I 6:12, October 2006) It was a thoroughly lame “scifi” movie slightly redeemed by Richard Kiel (Jaws in Moonraker) as the slightly pre-human title character. It was considerably less redeemed by an untalented and not wildly attractive teenager who tended to break out in song at various intervals, mostly sappy ballads. That teenager was Arch Hall Jr., and the director (and, I believe, producer) was his father, Arch Hall Sr., who also acted in the film.

So here we have the same father-son team (although Hall Sr. found a different director), the same mediocre ballads—one of them literally the same—and a picture about corrupt music managers that might have promise if it wasn’t such dreck. Arch Hall Jr. plays a kid who blows into LA from South Dakota with a guitar and $0.15—and immediately Makes It Big, albeit with a crooked promoter (his father) and the promoter’s gunslinging evil sidekick (played by the director). Nancy Czar is, of course, the beauty who falls for him despite silly obstacles (she’s a fine ice skater, based on one of the film’s better sequences). There are also a trio of would-be crooks who make the Three Stooges look like Ivy Leaguers. “Wild” is about as far from this kid’s guitar stylings as you can get: He’s all swoony moony June. Amusing dreck—but still dreck. $1.00.

Murder with Music, 1941, b&w, George P. Quigley (dir.), Nellie Hill, Bob Howard, Noble Sissle & orchestra. 0:59 [0:57].

A bunch of good music from little-heard musical groups—and a plot that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It’s another all-black movie (Nellie Hill was also in Killer Diller, reviewed in C&I 7.5, in a smaller role). Unfortunately, the first half is choppy—those missing two minutes seem to be a half-second at a time, through enough musical and plot sections to make viewing difficult. Too bad; the second half’s better and the music (and one dance number) is excellent. Even with those flaws, it’s worth $1.00.

Side A of this disc contains Soundies Festival and Soundies Cavalcade—but those titles are artificial, appearing only on the sleeve and as menu slides to cover the six “soundies” included—six very brief (one-reel or two-reel) musical shorts, all featuring black performers. So while there are eight rather than four reviews here, six of the eight are for shorts.

Mr. Adam’s Bomb, 1949, b&w, Eddie Green (dir.), Gene Ware, Jessie Grayson, Mildred Boyd. 0:20.

Silly but cute comedy, really not much more than a sketch. Really not much to say. I’ll give it $0.25.

Bubbling Over, 1934, b&w, Leigh Jason (dir.), Ethel Waters, Southernaires, Hamtree Harrington, Frank L. Wilson. 0:20

Another sketch, although fairly well developed for its brief length. Scratchy video and sound. $0.25.

Open the Door, Richard and Answer to Open the Door, Richard, 1945. William Forest Crouch (dir.), Dusty Fletcher, Stepin Fetchit. 0:09 + 0:10

The last short in Soundies Festival is Open the Door, Richard—a remarkable 9-minute drunk-act monologue by Dusty Fletcher. But in IMDB, that title yields what’s here (as the first short in Soundies Cavalcade) as Answer to Open the Door, Richard, here two minutes shorter than the IMDB summary. This one’s an extended music piece with a singing jazz group and back-and-forth between Dusty Fletcher (the drunk on the sidewalk, but now he’s standing) and Stepin Fetchit (Richard, not all that chipper himself but just married and not about to open that door). The second part’s seriously choppy, but I’ll give the combination $0.50.

Murder in Swing Town, 1937, b&w, Arthur Dreifuss (dir.), Les Hite and his orchestra, June Richmond. 0:10.

This one isn’t even in IMDB—not surprisingly. It’s basically two musical numbers with a vague semblance of a plot mixed in. Choppiness doesn’t help—but I’ll give it $0.25.

Boogie-Woogie Dream, 1944, b&w, Hans Burger (dir.), Lena Horne, Albert Ammons, Pete Johnson, Teddy Wilson and his band. 0:13.

Definitely the highlight of this side. The plot, such as it is, has a posh couple (Russell Morrison and Virginia Pine) falling asleep at a nightclub as it closes—and the dishwashwer (Lena Horne) fantasizes with a couple of other cleanup folks (Ammons, Johnson) about singing and playing with Teddy Wilson. Mostly music, and great music at that. For a change, the video and sound are pretty good. This one gets $0.75—which for 13 minutes isn’t bad.

Reaching for the Moon, 1930, b&w, Edmund Goulding (dir.), Douglas Fairbanks, Bebe Daniels, Edward Everett Horton, Claud Allister, Bing Crosby. 1:30 or 1:14 or 1:06 [1:06]

This should be a screwball musical comedy based on Irving Berlin’s musical—except that in this version, only one song remains, more than 44 minutes into the movie. So it really isn’t a musical—but it’s loads of fun, with the senior Douglas Fairbanks acquitting himself as a swashbuckling investor (just before the crash) who doesn’t deal with ladies very well. Mostly set on a cruise ship. Art deco lettering throughout—in the hotels, on Wall Street, on the ship—adds an odd air, but this isn’t meant to be taken seriously in any case. I believe Bing Crosby does one verse of the one song, but he’s good while he’s there. $1.25.

Mr. Imperium, 1951, color, Don Hartman (dir.), Lana Turner, Ezio Pinza, Marjorie Main, Barry Sullivan, Sir Cedric Hardwicke, Debbie Reynolds. 1:27.

This is more like it: most definitely a musical (although Debbie Reynolds—18 at the time—doesn’t sing, and Lana Turner’s songs are dubbed by another singer) and a romance. Turner’s a singer, later a movie star; Pinza’s a crown prince, later king. They meet, fall in love, are separated for 12 years, meet again (this time in California), fall in love again—and are separated again, but we assume it will all work out. Not great, but good (although the heat between Pinza and Turner is room temperature at best), and both color and sound are quite good. $1.50.