A Devil a Day

Looking for a good public domain movie to watch to-night? You could do worse than 1953's Beat the Devil starring Humphrey Bogart, Gina Lollobrigida, and Jennifer Jones. Jones is billed over Lollobrigida but it's mainly Lollobrigida I think of as the female lead. She is luscious in this movie.

She plays the wife of Bogart's character and I don't know why his attentions are drawn off by Jennifer Jones. Well, Jones is pretty cute, too, playing a spoiled British tourist who decides to make a game of it when she finds herself in the midst of crooks. Bogart along with four other professional criminals have some kind of scheme involving uranium in Africa, the movie's never too clear on the specifics.

Peter Lorre plays one of the four crooks and delivers one of the film's most oft quoted lines:

Time. Time. What is time? Swiss manufacture it. French hoard it. Italians squander it. Americans say it is money. Hindus say it does not exist. Do you know what I say? I say time is a crook.

The screenplay was written by Truman Capote and director John Huston while the the film was being shot. There's something exciting about the minute by minute sense of invention. The movie has a lovely casual tone, like you're just hanging out with these crooks. Even a moment like the one where one of the crooks starts spouting off about Hitler and Mussolini comes off as an amusing sideshow rather than dramatic.

Bogart seems like he's having fun though you can clearly see he lost his front teeth in a car accident during production.

Beat the Devil is available on YouTube and Amazon Prime and probably lots of other places.

X Sonnet #1741

The arch resembles birds in tepid love.
Oh, here's a symbol thick as leaden shoes.
And where's a burning soul to kill a dove?
For rites as such were wrought to kill the blues.
The violent styles change about a hair.
A second more's enough to hang a clock.
A voice contained the smallest hint of care.
A gravid trap could ape an iron lock.
So why's a rock the bouncing damage ball?
The plaster rains across the jagged floor.
A catered curse careens along the hall.
A ready nurse abused the crazy poor.
With melted candy coated shoes we go.
The air beyond the bowl can lately glow.

Another Fateful Climb

The Criterion Channel is doing a spotlight on Ida Lupino this month so last night I watched 1941's High Sierra, which I don't think I'd seen in 19 years or so. Lupino actually gets top billing which I think is more of a reflection of Bogart not being an A-lister yet than her own clout in Hollywood. Still, it's pretty impressive for a 23 year old actress from England. But she truly was showing herself to be a big talent.

Like a lot of films noir, there are two women, the Good Girl and the Bad Girl, Lupino playing Marie, the latter. But the Good Girl, Velma (Joan Leslie), starts to show a few shades of corruption while Marie is by no means as cutthroat as Kathie Moffat or Phyllis Dietrichson.

I wonder if the name of Humphrey Bogart's character, Roy Earle, is supposed to sound like "Royal". I suppose you could look at the movie as a Royalist allegory. Maybe Roy is Bonnie Prince Charlie. He is in command of the robbers and, in addition to that, he becomes a kind of king to Velma and her family. He's moved by pity before he starts to become attracted to Velma and even after she's rejected his marriage proposal he won't accept repayment for the surgery he'd paid for to fix her club foot. It's notable that Roy doesn't really make any big mistakes or unwise decisions throughout the movie, he just has colossally bad luck.

I think everything might have worked out if he hadn't lost control of his car after he robs the drugstore late in the film. The filmmakers could've done a better job making that more plausible. He just does a sharp turn into some shrubbery, thereby attracting everyone's attention. But the absurdity may have been part of the point, a subtle way of showing up the Hays Code.

It's hard to see how anyone could leave the theatre on the cops' side, though. Especially with the strikingly cowardly shot taken at Roy at the end.

Fisherman versus Nazis

As if life isn't hard enough for world-weary fishing boat captain Harry Morgan, he finds his job expanded to include ferrying French resistance fighters in 1944's To Have and Have Not. A great movie that diverges wildly from its superior source novel by Ernest Hemingway, it stars the chemistry between Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, their first of many films together.

There are several viable ways to interpret the title of the novel, few of which are as applicable to the film. There's the difference between economic "haves" and "have nots"--the likes of working class Harry versus wealthy vacationers--and there's also the depiction of wealthy people whose torrid personal lives essentially leave them having and not having relationships.

Instead of a man turned into a murderer due to desperation and opportunity, Bogart's Harry Morgan, despite rough edges, is an unmitigated hero. He puts up a mercenary front and expresses reluctance to do anything without getting paid but eventually he's aiding the French underground gratis. The film lacks what's really interesting about the novel, which is its remarkably clear-sighted portrayal of human beings boiled down to animal instincts. But the movie was directed by Howard Hawks with a screenplay by Jules Furthman and William Faulker--supposedly with some input from Hemingway himself--so naturally it's pretty good.

The first portion of the film somewhat faithfully adapts the novel. Harry takes a wealthy tourist fishing and when the tourist loses a fishing rod by acting like an idiot Harry demands compensation. In the book, the wealthy guy promises to pay but skips town instead. In the movie, his pocket is picked by Marie "Slim" Browning (Bacall) who's nabbed in turn by Harry--who makes her return the wallet in which Harry finds travellers checks worth more than the amount the guy owes him. But even here, movie Harry's sense of honour prevents him from robbing the man outright.

For all the talent behind this movie, its chief virtue is in Bogart and Bacall being fascinated by each other's sly, sardonic demeanours. It's a real delight watching her aggressively come on to him while the two grin like cats, exchanging trivial nothings and double entendres they each wear like thin veils.

And it is a pretty exciting World War II adventure film. It's a bit disappointing for a singular novel on human nature is used to make a second rate Casablanca but even a second rate Casablanca is pretty damned good.

Navigating in Thin Air

One ex-G.I. navigates murky waters to clear the name of a deceased comrade in 1947's Dead Reckoning. Humphrey Bogart's weary, candid expression is a nice centre for a film noir crowded with duplicitous gangsters, a dodgy dame, and all hands trying to take custody of the truth. Filled with clever dialogue, the movie also has some great compositions and a few that are kind of plain, making me wonder if there were some studio imposed reshoots.

Dead reckoning is a means of navigation at sea in which, for whatever reason, you lack good instruments and material so you have to figure out your position entirely by your last known position modified by time and speed. Of course, a lot of other factors, like current and wind, can mess up your calculations pretty quick.

Rip (Bogart) is a paratrooper just back from World War II. His buddy, Drake (William Prince), is a hero and about to get a medal but he flees the scene before reporters can get a good look at him. This is the first hint there may be more in Drake's past than Rip knows about. Even so, Rip is convinced Drake is a good egg and when Drake winds up dead it becomes Rip's top priority to make sure his legacy reflects what a good man he was.

But Drake was mixed up with some seedy folks, it turns out, including a gangster running a casino (Morris Carnovsky) and, of course, a woman, a husky voiced singer named Coral Chandler played by Lizabeth Scott.

Scott is okay but her resemblance to Lauren Bacall provokes the question, "Why isn't Lauren Bacall in this?" Well, because it's Columbia, Humphrey Bogart was on loan from Warner Brothers and--there's more to it but you get the idea. Bacall might've provided a stronger riposte for the (in)famous scene where Bogart talks about how women should be small enough to keep in your pocket until called for. At first, Coral says this is conceited but then she has the insight that this is as much about the man's insecurity as his desire to control women:

CORAL: I understand. What you're saying is: women are made to be loved.

RIP: Is THAT what I'm saying?

CORAL: Yes, it's a confession. A woman may drive you out of your mind, but you wouldn't trust her, and because you couldn't put her in your pocket, you get all mixed up.

Which is a scary thing for her to say considering she may have been involved in Drake's death.

Dead Reckoning is a good noir with a lot of classic elements. It bears some uncanny resemblance to Out of the Past, released the same year, though Out of the Past is a much stronger film with a smoother narrative and more consistently good compositions. But Dead Reckoning is certainly worth your time.

Dead Reckoning is available on The Criterion Channel as part of their recently relaunched Columbia Noir collection.