KISS OF DEATH (1947) - Film Review

As our film begins a narrator speaks over the opening shots of a bustling Manhattan informing us, “Christmas eve in New York a happy time for some people; the lucky ones. Last minute shopping, presents for the kids, hurry home to light the tree and fill the stockings…for the lucky ones. Others aren’t so lucky.” Here we are introduced to Nick Bianco (Victor Mature) a former jail-bird, now trying to fly the straight and narrow. After a year of his prison record impeding his efforts to get a legit job, we see Nick and a few cohorts enter a jeweler’s office and rob them because, as we're told, “this is how Nick goes Christmas shopping for his kids.” At the conclusion of this scene, Nick is mere seconds away from eluding the police who have been tipped off to the burglary. He is attempting to escape their grasp by running into the crowded streets of New York. But before he is able to make his flight, a cop in pursuit shoots him in the leg, dropping him to the ground and ensuring his Christmas will be spent at the graybar hotel. The narrator informs us this event mirrors the fate of Nick’s father who died twenty years earlier with a policeman’s slug in his back. As the sob story goes, the old man was escaping from a robbery he just committed when young Nick witnesses his father’s death and sadly enough it was one of his earliest memories. When the violins die down Nick is looking at plenty jail time but he does have a way out.

Assistant D.A. Louis D’Angelo (Brian Donlevy) is a family man who tells Nick that if he sings about the failed heist, he can get out of serving time in the big cage. But Bianco is no canary and refuses to chirp about his crew. Not even when D’Angelo tries to push his guilt buttons about his two young daughters growing up without their dad does Nick show signs of budging. The Assistant D.A. believes that Nick is a good guy at heart and attempts to give him a means to avoid incarceration. We see Nick’s wheels turn at this prospect and persuasion put forth by D’Angelo, but Nick is old school and decides to do his time with his beak shut.

Three years into doing his bit in the joint, Nick finds out that his wife has killed herself by sticking her head in a gas oven because of assorted woes: Nick in jail, financial hardship, single motherhood and her penchant for hitting the bottle too hard. Upon hearing this news Nick wants to get out and take care of his kids who have landed in an orphanage with nobody to care for them. In prison he gets a visit from Nettie (Coleen Gray) a young lady who once nannied his daughters when Nick was on the outside and things weren't quite so grim. Nettie subsequently quit the nanny gig and moved away long before Nick’s wife did herself in by treating her melon like a bundt cake. A minute into her visit with Nick it's obvious that he and Nettie have a connection. Additionally he asks her to keep tabs on his daughters which she agrees to do out of fondness for them, and of course Nick.

Beside himself with guilt and concern for his daughters, Nick is motivated to cut a deal with D’Angelo and give up his crew. Unfortunately this is where Nick must cross paths again with Tommy Udo (Richard Widmark). Tommy and Nick had met before during Nick's sentencing sentenced, winding up in the same holding cell for little while. Tommy expressed to Nick his surprise at being behind bars noting, “Imagine me in here. Big man like me gettin’ picked up just for shoving a guy’s ears off his head. Traffic ticket stuff.” With that statement we understand Tommy’s idea of a moving violation differs drastically from yours and mine. Tommy Udo proves it later in the film when he silences a potential informer by lashing the stoolie’s mother to her wheelchair with an electrical cord and proceeds to push her tumbling down a flight of stairs. Cementing his dark disposition, Udo gives his legendary creepy cackle at the sight of his maternal manhandling.

Under the guidance of D’Angelo, Nick "accidentally" bumps into and pretends to be pals with Udo to get some dirt on him for the Assistant D.A. The plan works and the D.A.’s office is taking Tommy to trial for murder, Nick testifies against him and everything seems rosy. Nick and Nettie have gotten married, he has a regular job and a new identity. His daughters are finally out of the orphanage, living with the newlyweds and happily improving their roller-skating skills on a daily basis. The picture can’t get any more perfect until the frame they try to hang on Tommy Udo doesn’t take and his slick shyster manages to get Tommy acquitted of the charges he faced. Now Nick has the psychopath Tommy Udo gunning for him and his family. While he wants to help Nick, the assistant D.A. can only wait for Tommy to violate his parole in order to get him off the streets. That may be too little too late for Nick, Nettie and the girls with a lunatic like Udo looking for payback. Nick sends Nettie and the girls packing to the country and decides to take care of Tommy Udo himself. At this point the cat and mouse game between Nick and Tommy plays out with both parolees having to tread carefully under the watchful eye of D’Angelo.

This movie is entertaining overall but not much else in terms of the film as a whole. I don’t feel like director Henry Hathaway covered any unique ground or brought anything original to the table with this picture. He had already incorporated filming in actual locations and utilizing a quasi-documentary style with his previous work The House on 92nd Street and would do the same (with more effectiveness) a year after Kiss of Death with Call Northside 777. The movie looks fine and there is some nice editing in several key scenes such as the opening heist, Udo’s wheelchair pushing scene and the ending which nicely bolster the tension. The script is solid but lacks some flair or panache leaving it seeming a little flat in places. While there are some great lines, I honestly expected more from writers Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer who between them have penned such gems as Notorious, Spellbound, His Girl Friday, Mutiny on the Bounty, The Thing from Another World and Oceans Eleven just to name a few (Even more impressive is Hecht’s uncredited contributions to many scripts over several decades. Check out his imdb page and be in awe). All that being said, the performances of Mature and Widmark are the elements that make this movie stand out from the pack.

Victor Mature is highly effective in his role as Nick Bianco, balancing a believable hood with a genuine guy who is motivated by his kids to straighten up from his crooked ways. It could have been played very sappy (especially in the scenes with the saccharine sweet little girls) but Mature nicely acts out the role and not the dramatic story. The result is a performance that elicits just the right mix of sympathy and compassion for his character. His wistful eyes also seal the deal when necessary too. Perfect casting and acting combined for the crucial role of our protagonist Nick.

If I had to choose one reason to recommend watching this film it’s definitely the screen debut of Richard Widmark as Tommy Udo. His performance is outstanding, as he doesn’t so much give you the creeps as he force-feeds them to you. Udo is a perfect storm of menace, sadist and sociopath. Widmark commands every scene he’s in with such a forceful presence and performance that as the film continues, you find yourself just waiting for him to appear. He also gets some classic lines such as telling a cop fishing for info that he wouldn’t give him “the skin off a grape.” Without Victor Mature’s understated performance Widmark’s Udo may have lost some of his effectiveness by seeming too over the top or out of place contrasted by a less convincing Nick Bianco. The two portrayals, however, balance each other perfectly and create a solid foundation of tension and excitement for this otherwise moderate noir

Rocket in Pinstripes

So Roger Clemens decided to go with a World Series contender (New York's record is 14 and 16 as of 5/8/2007 in the afternoon) and sign with the New York yankees Sunday. Apparently, according to the Rocket, George Steinbrenner whispered something magical in his ear that made him decide to sign with the yankees. My guess as to the aural incantation sounded something like, "We'll pay you 28 million pro-rated Roger." His comeback to the Bronx announcement was done in very anti-climatic fashion during the 7th inning stretch at the stadium Sunday where he made a very uninspired "speech" from Steinbrenner's luxury box (if you haven't seen it, check it out as it was like someone just handed him the mic and told him that he was playing for the yankees 10 seconds before he had it in his hand. My friend Matt, who is a yanks fan, aptly said 'Lou Gehrig he's not'). What was really hilarious was yankee radio color analyst Suzyn Waldman absolute freak-out on air after the announcement, which you have to listen to in order to believe it (she’s from Newton, MA too…shame, shame).

Would I have liked to see Clemens in a Sox uni again? Yes and no. As a Red Sox fan that wants to win another championship I would say yes. An addition to the already solid pitching staff, Clemens would have been a boost that would have translated as some pricey insurance. Do I think we needed him? Absolutely not. Our starting rotation and bullpen have been stellar so far this season and I’m happy with the horses we’re going to war with. Having Clemens would have given us a bit more of a cushion in case a starter gets injured and essentially assure that we would get a fairly decent quality start most times he would take the ball as a fifth starter. Objectively I’d rather see him in a Sox hat mainly to keep him out the yankee’s hands.

All that said let’s look at the numbers (I’ll get to the ‘no’ part of my previous paragraph’s opening later). Roger has pitched in the effete hitting National League central for the past few years since his “retirement” in 2003 (remember that?). That being said we won’t look at his wins and losses because he never got any run support from the Astros. His ERA however was an impressive average of 2.38 between 04’ and 06’ in 55 games. There is a dramatic drop off in the number of innings pitched: in 2004 he pitched 214 innings, in 2005 he pitched 211 and in 2006 he pitched 113. While the amount of games he started dropped off in 2006 the numbers are as follows for average amount of innings pitched per start: 2004 –6.48 IP, 2005 – 6.59 IP, 2006 – 5.94. This is a guy who on average may get you into the 6th inning but most likely will not get you past the 7th. Now if you total up the batting averages and slugging percentage averages of the NL central in 2006 the BA was .256 and SLG was .401. In the AL east where, Clemens will be pitching again, the average BA for the 2006 season for the four teams (I’ve excluded the yankees and Astros in both cases obviously) was .274 and SLG percentage average was .436. So there is a noticeable difference in just those two divisions. As everybody who has an inkling of baseball knowledge is aware the AL bats are much more potent then the NL ones. The last two years the Rocket pitched in the AL in 2002 and 2003 his ERA averaged 4.13. and he was 4 years younger in 2003 (he will turn 45 in August). Clemens will make a little over 20 starts this season and maybe, if he is lucky, he will win 10 of those games. But with the yankees bullpen in absolute shambles I can only imagine what kind of over taxed shape they will be in by August.
However I think he will help the Yankees and will add some spice to the Boston/New York rivalry. It will make it that much more sweet when we beat them in the post season.

Personally I didn’t want to see Clemens in a Sox uniform again because of a close encounter my friend Dave and I had with Roger in 1990. This story is absolutely true and I will swear on my beloved grandmother's grave to the following. Dave lived near the Fens and we were walking on Boylston St. on a late Sunday afternoon. Clemens had pitched that day and I believe he got shelled. Regardless we were stopped at the crosswalk and sure enough a black Porsche with the vanity license plate “ROCKET” pulls up to the light. Dave and I were all psyched because, well there was THE Roger Clemens. He had already won three Cy Young awards, had the 20 strikeout game and was a legend in Boston. I used to love watching him pitch just like most everyone in Boston and here he was just a few yards away in his sweet ride. Just then two little African-American kids about 9 or 10 years old pull up to the Porsche on their BMX bikes. They started leaning against the car with their hands and also started knocking on the tinted driver side window saying "Roger, Roger can we have your autograph?" a few times over. Still stuck at the red light, Clemens rolls down the electric window and proceeds to tell the kids “Don’t touch the fuckin’ car!” and he then peeled out as the light turned green immediately after uttering those words. It was a movie moment to say the least. The kids, Dave and myself stood there with our jaws on the pavement. I said to one of the kids “He’s a jerk don’t feel bad about it.” One of the kids said trying to be tough, “He’s an asshole.” Yet you could see the disappointment in their eyes. I figured that many celebrity athletes are douche bags but it was one thing to see it firsthand at the expense of those kids. From that day on I never liked Clemens and was secretly happy whenever he got rocked in an outing. It was tough to support the Sox and hate the ace of the staff. I felt I got a real glimpse into his character and that said, 17 years later, he’s a perfect fit for the yankees. See you in Boston the first weekend in June Roger (unless you aren't pitching because you don't have to travel with the rest of your team.)

PANIC IN THE STREETS (1950) - Film Review

In the dark shadows above a dingy restaurant in the French quarter of New Orleans a card game is being played. One of the players is an illegal immigrant, fresh off the boat and riding a winning streak that’s netted him a nice little stack of bills at the table. Now he says he wants out of the game. His unlucky opponent Blackie (Jack Palance) craves a chance to win his money back and is not going to let him go so easily. Oddly enough the player anxious to call it quits doesn’t want to leave the game because he’s up in winnings and wants to walk away with a wad of cash. He is sweating profusely, looks like hell and is complaining of being very ill. He says he’s so sick, that he has to go home to lie down. He breaks away from the game under heavy protest from the other players. Palance, his crony Raymond (Zero Mostel), and another cohort follow this man out into the streets, across a train yard and outside a warehouse, demanding his money (in an amazingly shot, single long-take). The card game winner starts to defend himself from Raymond and the other Blackie henchman but his hand is folded for good with a couple of slugs from the piece of Palance. As his money is pocketed by Blackie, the audience may think that the movie they’re about to watch involves a murder by some street hoods in the Big Easy. However, what is about to unfold is an unconventional noir set in the New Orleans underworld that touches on social and moral issues stemming from the possibility of a global disaster with origins at the microscopic level.

Cut to the next day and our card game winner is fished out of the harbor and brought to the morgue. The man performing the autopsy notices the copious amount of white blood cells coming from this man’s bullet wounds. Something doesn’t look right and he notifies the Feds. Next we see a nice domestic scene with our lead man Clint Reed (Richard Widmark) and his son played by Tommy Rettig (“Laaaaasie!”) doing some painting in the front yard. Barbara Bel Geddes (as Widmark’s wife) calls him in to the house to tell him that his boss called and he is needed downtown. Widmark changes into his uniform as we learn his professional identity is Lt. Commander/Dr. Clinton “Clint” Reed, U.S. Public Health Service. While he's changing, Bel Geddes gently prods him that their tab at the local grocery store has become an astronomical 42 dollars. Reed says he’ll figure out a way to pay it and we are made aware that this man is not making a great living as a doctor for the government yet we will also find out he has duties and responsibilities for which no salary may be adequate.

Widmark shows up to the morgue and determines that while the bullets may have killed our unlucky card player, he was infected with pneumonic plague. Whomever has come into contact with the John Doe with will be dead within 48 hours without serum inoculation. While Dr. Reed does a fine job of inoculating everyone who has come into contact with the body including police, morgue workers and so forth, the one man likely carrying the plague they have not discovered is the murderer (Jack Palance) of the dead card player. The tricky part being they have to find the killer without letting anyone know that they are looking for him. The reasoning behind this tact is mentioning the plague could set off a panic in the population as generally the word “plague” seems to put people on edge and take sudden long unexpected vacations. If that wasn’t difficult enough they have yet to identify the body itself. It’s obviously much harder to find a killer when you don’t know who has been bumped-off. The mayor assigns New Orleans police Captain Tom Warren (Paul Douglas) to help Widmark find their man to incarcerate a killer and, more importantly, contain a pandemic.

From this point Widmark and Douglas begin an unconventional type of investigation for the noir genre. As it turns out many people have come into contact with the murdered, card playing, plague carrier. Instead of roughing up plague exposed uncooperative suspects, Widmark threatens to hold out inoculating them until they cough up pertinent information about their investigation (is it a Hippocratic suggestion or oath that doctors take?). Eventually they narrow down the investigation and what ensues is a fantastic cat and mouse game between Widmark and Palance to the very end of the film. Within this dynamic exist intriguing moral and social issues brought to the attention of the viewer by the director.

Director Elia Kazan was no stranger to making pictures with social messages and moral dilemmas (Gentleman’s Agreement, Pinky, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn just to name a few) and Panic in the Streets was no exception. Widmark gives a great speech about this potential epidemic not being just about New Orleans, but the world and how we as humans are all interconnected. May not sound like much today, but this type of progressive speech was uncommon for 1950 I’d wager. The issue of freedom of press vs. public safety is a theme also touched upon as a reporter character named Neff (Double Indemnity nod?) is thwarted by Widmark and Douglas from scooping the story. Their reasoning is they don’t want to cause a panic and also have the killer flee town, but does the public have a right to know about this potential plague to protect their families and themselves? This plague is also a metaphor for crime as a disease and how it poisons principles and may infect many who come into its contact regardless of their moral constitution.

The shining aspects of the film manifest in several areas and the casting and acting are certainly included. Paul Douglas is solid as the police captain who reins it in from his usual comedic relief parts and Barbara Bel Geddes is fine as Widmark’s wholesome wife. She works well in some key, unconventional love scenes with Widmark where they are both longing to be close to one another but she must keep at a physical distance because he may be contaminated. Zero Mostel is perfectly cast as Blackie’s sleazy and degenerate underling and Jack Palance (in his motion picture debut) is fantastic as the heavy. He has just the right balance of menace, and believability as an underworld player who may explode with violence at any moment. This young Palance has a very swarthy, gaunt and creepy look going for him, which adds to his presence as a nefarious element one wouldn’t want to cross. Richard Widmark earns serious kudos in my book for this film, as I believe it may be his finest role. He maintains a balance of controlled distress at the potential cataclysmic events that may unfold and passionate determination in his quest to stop both a human and microscopic killer alike. Dr. Clint Reed comes off in a believable and compelling fashion because Widmark brings so much to the table as an empathetic and tough leading man protagonist that when watching him in Panic in the Streets, one forgets all about Tommy Udo (Kiss of Death), Harry Fabian (Night and the City), Skip McCoy (Pickup on South Street) and his other villain or anti-hero roles for which he is associated.

The aspect of this film that shines the most is Kazan’s use of the camera. In many of the shots characters are constantly moving about in the frame creating an edginess to the scenes but Kazan makes the dance between the actors and the camera seem effortless. He incorporates these amazing long takes that may begin on a group of characters and several minutes later we have moved about them and end on a close up. Many of these extended single takes are sans dialogue and remind me of some of the silent Fritz Lang films in their mastery of telling a story with only the camera. Kazan moves the film’s story along visually in a way that is so impressive it must be seen to be appreciated. This was all photographed under the masterful hand of Joseph McDonald who does a fantastic job of capturing the visual flavor of New Orleans with help from the gritty, authentic locations. He and Kazan also use real New Orleans people as extras and in small parts that give the film a neo-realist quality and genuine look that Hollywood couldn’t replicate.

Panic in the Streets is a true gem that deserves more credit that perhaps it has received over the years. Apparently at the end of his career, Kazan felt it was one of his most well crafted and important films amongst his very impressive body of work. The script (Edward and Edna Anhalt of The Sniper and The Young Lions), filming, acting and direction that comprise Panic in the Streets are of the highest calibers across the board. The ending chase scene through the coffee warehouse is worth the price of admission alone; however, I practically guarantee one viewing will only make you concur with Kazan’s self-appraisal of his stellar film.

RED SOX OPENING DAY AT FENWAY 2007

One of my best friends Jefferson informed me several months ago that he and his fiance would be coming to Boston so she could see some friends who live in the hub and Jeffy figured it was a great opportunity to see me. He lives in L.A. so needless to say I never see him. Jefferson is a baseball fan so I managed to get us tickets for the day after opening day at Fenway. My boss Sully later won the ticket buying lottery at redsox.com, was able to score some tickets for opening day and offered to sell me two of the four he got because he knew my buddy was coming into town. Seeing as though he could have sold the $23 bleacher tickets for $150 a piece (at least, easily), to say it was a very nice gesture would be quite an understatement. So me and my friend were lined up to see opening day April 10^th and, as it turned out, the day after which was the debut of the biggest Red Sox acquisition of the off-season: Daisuke Matsuzaka. What we saw during that two day period was entertaining to say the least. The following entry contains notes, observations and commentary about the first day.

Tuesday April 10 2007 : Opening Day at Fenway Park

We had an amusing run-in with a Sox “fan” when we were parking the car before the game. Decided to park on a side street off Beacon St. and St. Mary’s area where Brookline ends and Boston begins. This guy was in his 50s driving a brand spankin’ new Explorer, parks on the street in front of us. He was with his son who was about 11 years old and wearing one of those really nice 2004 World Champion Red Sox all leather jackets that go for about $400 (I’m not exaggerating). Needless to say I don’t think he was worrying about paying the electric bill this month. The guy then asks me if it’s okay to park here. I tell him that the ticket here in the residential area is only $15 which compared to $50 (at the lots next to Fenway) is a deal. He then asks me if I’ve been to “any games so far this year?” Uh…it is opening day dude and I didn’t make the trek to Kansas City or Texas when the Sox were on the road before today so no, I haven’t been to any so far. He then asks me “should we bring jackets to the game?” I tell him maybe it’s not a bad idea because of the temperature and then he says “yea I think it may get pretty cold in the park because of it getting all the wind right off the water.” At this point I wouldn’t have been surprised if he said that a Unicorn collected his toll getting off the Mass Pike because he was so far away from my reality he was sounding crazy as a soup sandwich. Right off the water? Are you thinking San Francisco and not Boston? Are you thinking of the water in the troth urinals in the men's rooms at Fenway? Hardcore fan this guy was not. The sad thing is that these types of people are so much more prevalent at Fenway these days because they have money, connections and the Sox have become such a status event to attend. My girlfriend and I went to a game in 2004 where the group of people in front of us (a bunch male and female “suits”) spent at most an inning actually watching the game and the rest of the time going to get beer, getting up and down, switching seats, talking in the aisles, standing in their seats during non standing moments and my personal favorite; calling everyone they possibly know to tell them (or yell into their cell phones) that they are at the Sox game. To me that’s like going to Paris and spending the entire time in the hotel room. It makes me sad to see this type of thing because I think of the poor blue collar dad living in Charlestown who can’t afford to take his kids to see the Sox yet he’s a truly devoted and loyal fan who was “born into it” and proud as they say. My father grew up in Somerville and told me that my grandfather used to take my dad, uncle and aunt to Sox games when they were kids. Because they were so poor they would all walk to Fenway Park…FROM SOMERVILLE! That' s well over a 3 mile walk. My dad also said my grandfather took turns with each his siblings carrying them on his shoulders during the long trek across town, over the Charles River and into Kenmore square. My dad and my uncle pestered my grandfather about 1000 times, on these walks over to Fenway, about who would hit a home run, Ted Williams or Bobby Doerr (my dad's favorite player). Now that’s devotion and a far cry from the pink hats and people making the “scene” at Fenway instead of watching and rooting for the Boston Red Sox. I’ll hop off the soap box for now.

Went into an Irish bar on Beacon St. for Jeffy to have a few non-ballpark priced beers before the game and a seltzer for myself (I don’t drink anymore after ending a long, ugly and dysfunctional affair with lady liquor). We then headed for the ballpark and got to our seats. They were in the bleachers but we were only a dozen rows back from the visitor bullpen. The wind was blowing our way pretty hard so the potential for David Ortiz sending one our way was good. The first thing I’ll say about the game is it was freakin’ cold, really chilling and windy to boot. That said, I kept warm by dressing appropriately and help from a few choice pharmaceuticals to counter the cold.

Finally got to our seats (which were great) and met up with Sully and his wife Laurie. The opening ceremony was amazing. First we had the unveiling of the huge American flag over the Green Monster and then 4 of the “Green Mountain Boys” Vermont Air National Guard F-16s, did a fly-over directly above us in the bleachers. Still a very cool part of opening day that gives me goose bumps thinking about it. Then Harry Connick Jr. was trotted out and sang “America the Beautiful” which prompted many “Where’s fuckin’ the national anthem?” from Jeffy. I don’t know and I didn’t understand the Connick Jr./Boston Red Sox connection either (many Sox fans in New Orleans?). Is that the best celebrity we could get? I’d rather have a mediocre local celebrity than a more famous national one (I looking at you Gary Cherone). The next part of the opening ceremonies was the highlight. This year marks the 40^th anniversary of “The Impossible Dream” Red Sox of 1967 who went from finishing in last place in 1966 to winning the pennant in ’67. All the old players of that amazing team came out on the field in their unis and took their old positions. They all looked much greyer and heavier but Jesus when Yaz came out from the Monster I couldn’t help but scream at the top of my lungs like I was 12 years old which I was when I last saw Captain Carl take the field in person. Not to mention that they brought in THE Robert Goulet who sang “The Impossible Dream” (his signature tune) during the ceremony. Not too shabby at all I’d say. If that didn’t tug on my aortic strings enough, they got yanked when Johnny Pesky was introduced to the crowd, stepped up to the mic and said the true magic words “Play Ball!” Johnny was squeezin' out a few tears at the outpouring of applause and support he received from the fans after his introduction. It was a difficult year for him in which he lost his wife. You’d have to be a fuckin’ robot not to mist up just a little bit. I won’t even get started about MLB kicking Pesky out of the dugout. Way to take a stand, Bud(Selig)!

The game itself was pretty great. The Sox started teeing off the pitching of 2006 World Series darling Jeff Weaver in the first. I won’t go through the entire game but some of the most notable things during the game were as follows: 1) Josh Beckett was absolutely dominating. All his pitches seemed to be working well and most pleasing to me was that he rarely shook off Varitek’s pitch calls (better late than never I guess). Seven innings, one run, 8Ks and only two hits. Speaking of the Captain he had a good game with three hits and three RBIs. I’m hoping this season his bat will be much more potent than last year. 2) J.D. Drew had a good game including his first homer in a Sox uniform and 3 RBIs. He also made a great running catch as well. All in all everyone batting for the Sox looked pretty good with the exception of Coco Crisp. He drove in two RBIs that day, BUT…I’ve been watching him for the past two weeks and he looks so completely lost at the plate. Taking strikes down the middle, swinging at ball fours and having the uncanny ability to hit the ball directly at any one of the infielders when he does make contact. I’m not ready to bring up Ellsbury from AA Portland yet. I think we have to give him (Coco) two or three more weeks (as opposed to the doom and gloom guys that call into WEEI) but boy he better get it going soon (He is batting .111 as of 4/16). As for the bullpen not too bad with the exception of Timlin coming in to pitch the ninth and giving up 2 runs (he left the game with a hearty 18.00 ERA). He just got off the DL so I’m not too worried. I’m also much quicker to forgive him as he and Varitek are the only players who are still sporting the old school look of red socks pulled up high to the knees. I'm a traditionalist at heart. Final score: Red Sox 14 Seattle 3

Left the park and we all went back to the Irish bar which had cleared out considerably since before the game. Still better than waiting a half hour to get into a few of the bars on Brookiline Ave. or Lansdowne St. before the game started (I'm not joking. We checked and I don't wait in lines for a bar, even when I was drinking). I was feeling pretty good after the Sox trouncing of Seattle and was looking forward to Matsuzaka San's start the next day. My first opening day in 12 years was as close to perfect as you can get in 42 degree baseball weather. At least it wasn't rain.

GUN CRAZY (1950) - Film Review

Joseph H. Lewis’s film Gun Crazy is not a film noir. Gun Crazy is an existentialist film disguised as a film noir. It could also be classified as a two person crew gangster film, lovers on the lam picture, or possibly even a criminal psychology flick. It defies a simple definition as its two main characters and their story may comprise some or all of these elements. I’m far from the type of person who over-intellectualizes or reads too much into films (especially 1950s B-Movies) however, the philosophical dark waters of Gun Crazy run deep below its turbulent surface. Fortunately for the viewer, the story we watch unfold on that surface is gripping, dangerous and crackerjack filmmaking at its best. The core of the film however consists of two characters who are questioning what they are, if they were created that way, or if their actions define their identity.

We first meet young adolescent Bart Tare (Russ Tamblyn) on a miserable night of pouring rain and unsatiated desire. Bart is stopped on the street outside the shop window of a small town hardware store, fixated on its display case prominently presenting an ornate revolver. From inside the store we watch him heave a rock through the front window, creating a big hole just above the gun. He turns himself around and attempts to obstruct the view of the hole in case anyone about is looking to see where the sound of the crash came from. He does this by blocking the hole with his torso and outstretching his arms perpendicular to his vertical body. This ends up looking eerily like he is about to be crucified rather than slyly covering his vandalism. He grabs the gun, a few small boxes of ammo and begins to run away. Bart trips and falls dropping the gun. The camera follows the gun skidding across the street where it stops in front of the boots of a man. The camera tilts up and we see the figure of the local sheriff. The lust for guns, we later discover, is Bart’s cross to bear.

Cut to a court room where we get a glimpse into Bart’s life as this juvenile’s crime is being weighed by the judge before sentencing. Bart’s parents are absent but his sister informs the judge that Bart has always had an obsession with guns but he wouldn’t harm a fly. One flashback later reveals that as a young boy he accidentally killed a baby chick with his BB gun and was deeply traumatized and regretful of this action. Since then he has refused to kill anything. His friends Dave and Clyde attest to this by recounting a story to the judge that one day, while they were exploring the local mountains, they had an opportunity to kill a mountain lion they spotted while hiking. Bart (never without his rifle apparently) is goaded into shooting the lion by his friends but he purposely misses. His friends chide him for his inaccuracy but Bart proceeds to throw his canteen high in the air and pump it full of several rounds before it hits the ground to prove a point: Barton Tare is a dead eye marksman. He is not however, a killer. A former teacher testifies about Bart bringing in a gun to school a year prior and refusing to give it to her after she catches him showing it off to his classmates at his desk (ah, the good old days). The judge wisely decides that Bart must go to reform school as his actions must have consequences. Bart however feels misunderstood as he tells the judge that shooting guns is the only thing he’s good at, it’s what he wants to do when he grows up and, “I feel good when I’m shooting them. I feel awful good inside like I’m somebody.”

A dozen years later we are re-introduced to Bart now played by John Dall. He has come back to town and is taking some leisurely target practice in the mountains while drinking beer (ah, the good old days) with his same old friends Clyde (now sheriff) and Dave. Bart has just gotten out of the army and is unsure what he will do next in life. For kicks his friends suggest they all go to the traveling carnival in town that evening. Little does Bart know that by going to the carnival his fate is about to change faster than a speeding bullet.

They enter a tent where a gun demonstration is being held by one Miss Annie Laurie Star (Peggy Cummins). Beautiful and dressed to the nines in a cowgirl outfit and tight slacks, Laurie comes out with guns blazing and then points and fires one straight at Bart. The gun, it turns out, is filled with harmless blanks, but her effect on Bart however is like a .38 caliber slug from cupid’s gat right through his heart. She proceeds to demonstrate her prowess with the six-shooter by blasting a cigarette out of her assistant’s mouth at twenty paces and so forth. Bart is mesmerized by Laurie as if his dream woman has been dropped from the sky before him. The carnival host then challenges anyone in the audience to match bullet for bullet the deadly accuracy of Annie Laurie Star. Naturally Bart accepts and what happens next is one of the most ludicrous and amazing seduction scenes ever filmed. As the two take turns back and forth shooting dangerously close to each other in a deadly William Tell like competition, Laurie has noticeably become interested in Bart. Here the two meet for the first time in their purest forms: deadly accurate marksmen who love the tools of their trade and the rush they provide.

Bart takes a job at the carnival to be close to Laurie and they begin falling hard for each other and eventually leave the carnival. They decide on a shotgun wedding but before tying the knot Bart confesses his stint in reform school and Laurie confides that “I’ve never been much good but I want to be good. I don’t know, maybe I can’t but I’m going to try.” Despite the confessions of being outcasts they pull the trigger on their nuptials and travel around the country honeymooning like a typical happy couple. They honeymoon ends as the money runs out and Laurie becomes discontented. Bart suggests that he take a job at Remington (guns not electric shavers) for 40 dollars a week. That kind of dough isn’t enough for Laurie because she wants to do “a little living” so she suggests a lifestyle of crime where they can earn easy money with their guns by stealing from others. Bart expresses his concern at this proposal by stating that he doesn’t want, “to look in the mirror and see nothing but a stickup man staring back at me.” Laurie on the other hand believes she is entitled because, “I’ve been kicked around all my life and from now on I’m going to start kicking back.” Faced with the ultimatum of Laurie leaving him or seeing that stickup man in the mirror, Bart caves and they begin robbing everything from gas stations to banks.

While what comes next is a series of exciting crime scenes, the most interesting aspect of the film is the characters of Bart and Laurie. As the viewers, we wonder what makes them tick and we see that they are trying to figure that out for themselves as well. Their identities are nebulous entities that they never quite know where they begin or end. Is Laurie rotten to the core even though she honestly tries and wants to be good for Bart? She reminds Bart she told him from the beginning that, “…I was no good. I didn’t kid you did I?” yet she demonstrates moments of real tenderness, concern and love for Bart. Is Bart nothing but that criminal he sees in the mirror even though he is essentially good at heart? Keep in mind that Bart can’t bring himself to shoot anyone if the need arises whereas Laurie has an over itchy trigger finger when she gets scared and stressed. Most would argue that’s not conducive makeup for the life of being successful armed robbers, but Bart and Laurie are misfits and walking contradictions. Bart comments that “It’s all going so fast it doesn’t seem like me.” This elusive selfdom both share is further evidenced by their crime spree where they are literally and figuratively trying on different identities, disguises and role-play while pulling jobs and being on the lam. They impersonate a bookish straight couple, Army officer and wife, beret and sunglasses wearing 50’s hipsters and finally “disguise” themselves in full on cowboy and cowgirl costumes during the infamous single take bank robbery scene shot from the back seat of their car (there’s plenty written about it this deservedly classic part so I will refrain). Despite all these various guises and roles, at their core Bart and Laurie are rare birds that have never quite found nests to call their own. Yet they look for validation and comfort in each other as they are united in their existence as square pegs. Bart tells Laurie “We go together Laurie, I don’t know why, like guns and ammunition go together.”

The two decide to pull one last big heist which goes awry, produces two corpses (thanks to Laurie’s hair trigger finger) and sends them running back to Bart’s home town for a confrontation with his past. Here he faces his sister, Clyde and Dave who beg for their surrender but it’s too late for the two. They have finally established their identities in the form of outlaw robbers; and like their predecessors Bonnie and Clyde, they can run for only so long before he law catches up with them.

Director Joseph H. Lewis makes the Gun Crazy script jump off the page and crackle with dazzling energy. Lewis has a very strong sense of patience and payoff when it comes to visually narrating a scene. For example, he knows when to finally give the audience a close-up for maximized emotional impact at just the right time in the context of the entire scene, whereas another director may give one to the audience too soon. They would expect the close-up to create significance, just because of our viewer's conditioning to register it as such. Lewis does it with impeccable timing and feeling. Overall the film looks fantastic with great camerawork bolstering its visual strength. Lewis also paces the action at a brisk clip yet knows when to slow down to let the viewer savor the fantastic characters of Bart and Laurie. He lets them breathe and come to life without too heavy a hand and too broad a brush. The only flaw I find with the film is the pace lags for a brief time at the very end but otherwise Gun Crazy is a lean, streamlined movie from start to finish. I’ve barely scratched the surface of this film as it has so many great nuances, qualities and themes that are all worthy of exploration. I will say (and go out on a biased limb) that Gun Crazy is one of, if not, the most underrated film noir (okay it is a film noir) from the classic period of 1940 to 1958. Truly a must see for any fan of film noir or great filmmaking in general.