Fred MacMurray and Jane Wyman Say Bon Voyage!

Fred MacMurray playing another Dad.

Fred MacMurray made seven films for Walt Disney Productions, starting with The Shaggy Dog (1959) and ending with Charley and the Angel (1973). There were big hits (The Absent-Minded Professor) and big flops (The Happiest Millionaire). One of Fred’s least successful Disney outings was Bon Voyage! (1962), a well-intentioned family comedy that will test the patience of even Fred’s most fervent fans.

The veteran actor stars as Harry Willard, a plumbing contractor from Terre Haute who finally makes good on his promise to take wife Katie (Jane Wyman) to France. Of course, it’s taken 20 years to make the trip a reality and the couple now have three kids: teenagers Amy (Deborah Walley) and Elliott (Tommy Kirk) and youngster Skipper (Kevin Corcoran).

Deborah Walley as Amy.

Amy finds romance almost immediately with a handsome, brooding would-be architect named Nick (Michael Callan). Elliott pouts over his girlfriend back home--for about five minutes--then tries to reinvent himself as a suave playboy. Katie finds herself wooed by a Hungarian lothario. And Harry...he just attempts to make sense of everything going on around him.

Bon Voyage! was based on a novel co-written by Joseph Hayes, who penned The Desperate Hours--a very different family drama. Esther Williams and James Cagney were attached to Bon Voyage! at various times during its development. But the cast changed significantly when Walt Disney acquired the rights.

Fred MacMurray and Tommy Kirk had already appeared together in two Disney pictures: The Shaggy Dog and The Absent-Minded Professor. Kevin Corcoran co-starred with them in the former film. Deborah Walley and Michael Callan had also teamed up in the previous year's Gidget Goes Hawaiian.

Yet, despite such built-in chemistry, Bon Voyage! comes across as no more than an overlong, episodic travelogue that makes one pine for Rome Adventure (also 1962). It's difficult to fathom why director James Neilson didn't trim the length by at least 30 minutes. The current running time of 132 minutes seems interminable.

As Nick, poor Michael Callen is saddled with a character that borders on psychotic. In one scene, Nick is wooing Walley with aplomb. In another, he is launching into rants about marriage, career choices, and the meaning of life. Simply put, Nick may be the most bizarre character to grace a Disney live action family film.

Jane Wyman as Katie.

As expected, Fred MacMurray shoulders most of the movie, although it's too bad he and Wyman don't get a subplot together until late in the proceedings. By then, I was already looking at my watch every five minutes.

As much as I like the actors, I can't recommend Bon Voyage!. Save two hours of your life! However,  you may want to watch the opening credits. The title song by Disney veteran composers Richard and Robert Sherman is pretty catchy.

Fred MacMurray and a Double Dose of Flubber

MacMurray in the lab.

Following the success of 1959's The Shaggy Dog, Walt Disney re-teamed Fred MacMurray and Tommy Kirk for The Absent-Minded Professor (1961). This time around, Fred got most of the screen time with Tommy in a supporting role as the villain's son.

Fred plays Ned Brainard, a brilliant professor at Medfield University, who tends to forget everything when conducting his experiments. Having missed his wedding to fiancee Betsy two times, Ned relies on his housekeeper to get him to his latest scheduled nuptials. That turns out to be a poor plan when Ned leaves Betsy waiting for the third time!

Nancy Olson as Betsy.

To make matters worse, his current experiment literally blows up--but in the aftermath, Ned discovers a strange gooey substance. He rolls it into a ball and discovers that it gains energy with every bounce. It's like flying rubber, so Ned dubs his invention "flubber." Unfortunately, no one takes Ned and flubber seriously until the despicable Alonzo P. Hawks (Keenan Wynn) learns of the new invention's potential.

The Absent-Minded Professor is a first-rate family film bolstered by a bevy of wonderful supporting players. In addition to the aforementioned stars, the cast includes: Nancy Olson (Sunset Boulevard) as Betsy, Leon Ames (Mr. Ed) as the college president, Elliott Reid (Inherit the Wind) as a rival for Betsy's affections, Edward Andrews as a government bureaucrat, David Lewis as a general, Ed Wynn as a fire chief, and many others. My wife and I think we recognized almost everyone in the movie.

What a way to score!

Almost as important as the cast is Disney's special effects department, which earned an Oscar nomination for its work. The film's highlight is a basketball game in which Medfield is being crushed by its nemesis Rutland University.With the score 46-3 at halftime, Ned hatches onto a scheme to help Medfield and demonstrate flubber. He irons the gooey substance on the soles of the Medfield players' shoes. He then encourages them to bounce! The result is one of the most memorable basketball games in the history of cinema!

The Absent-Minded Professor was the fourth highest-grossing film of 1961 (Disney's 101 Dalmatians and The Parent Trap were also in the Top Ten). Thus, Walt Disney, who allegedly abhorred sequels, agreed to make Son of Flubber in 1963. It returns most of the original film's cast, although Tommy Kirk, still playing the same character, has now become Professor Brainard's assistant.

Joanna Moore as Desiree.

Having sold flubber to the government, newlyweds Ned and Betsy have yet to see any money from Ned's promising invention. That doesn't matter to the IRS, which wants them to pay over $600,000 in taxes due to projected earnings. Things get rockier when Ned's old flame, the vivacious Desiree de la Roche (Joanna Moore) returns to Medfield. Meanwhile, Ned has harnessed flubber gas, which he plans to use to control the weather.

Son of Flubber is a spotty follow-up that feels hastily put together. The highlights are an educational film on the commercial uses of flubber in the home and a football game with Paul Lynde as the announcer. In the latter, Biff employs flubber gas to give Medfield an edge against an undefeated Rutland team. However, since flubber gas can become unstable, it's not used to inflate the football--but rather a running back who is then thrown by his teammates!

A Medfield player--with ball--is hurled through the air.

Although Son of Flubber was a big hit, too, no further sequels were made. Medfield College popped up later, though, as the setting for the Dexter Riley film trilogy starring Kurt Russell: The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes (1969); Now You See Him, Now You Don’t (1972); and The Strongest Man in the World (1975). The Disney Studios remade The Absent-Minded Professor twice, first as a 1988 made-for-TV movie with Harry Anderson and then as the 1997 theatrical film Flubber with Robin Williams.

Walt Disney's The Shaggy Dog

Fred MacMurray and his shaggy, car-driving co-star.

In hindsight, The Shaggy Dog (1959) was a landmark Disney film. After all, this amusing comedy perfected the formula for the contemporary live-action family films produced by the studio for the next twenty years. It was also the first of Fred MacMurray's five Disney films--and, according to some sources, it inspired his long-running TV sitcom My Three Sons. Pretty impressive for a comedy about a teenager that periodically transforms into a sheepdog!

Tommy Kirk stars as Wilby Daniels, the kind of teen inventor that accidentally launches a missile interceptor through the roof of his family's house. That doesn't sit well with his grumpy father (MacMurray), a postal carrier who hates dogs--even though his younger son Moochie (Kevin Corcoran) badly wants one.

Wilby in the bathroom.

Moochie gets his wish, more or less, when Wilby accidentally comes into possession of a ring owned by Lucrezia Borgia. When he tries on the cursed ring, he transforms into a sheepdog owned by his pretty, new French neighbor (Roberta Shore, whom we interviewed in 2016).

Later, Wilby transforms back into his human self, but continues to turn into into a shaggy sheepdog at the most inopportune moments. He seeks help from Professor Plumcutt (Cecil Kellaway), who informs Wilby that he has invoked a curse that can only be broken by a heroic act. Thank goodness, while in his canine form, he discovers a spy ring in the neighborhood!

Kevin Corcoran was a Disney mainstay.

Although it was loosely inspired by a 1923 novel called The House Florence, The Shaggy Dog owes much to Old Yeller. That family drama, made two years earlier, teamed Kirk and Corcoran as brothers for the first time. And it was about a dog, too! Of course, Old Yeller is a very different film (Tommy Kirk's big scene near the end always gets to me).

Still, it's apparent that Walt Disney recognized the natural brotherly connection between the teenager Kirk and ten-year-old Corcoran. The two got along well and appeared together in a total of five Disney pictures, portraying siblings again in Swiss Family Robinson, Savage Sam (a sequel to Old Yeller), and Bon Voyage!--which also featured Fred MacMurray as their father.

Tim Considine and Tommy Kirk.

However, it was another Shaggy Dog star, Tim Considine, who would become one of Fred's sons when My Three Sons debuted in 1960. Considine only has a small role in Shaggy Dog, playing Wilby's rival for Annette Funicello and Roberta Shore. Earlier in his career, he played Frank Hardy opposite Tommy Kirk's Joe Hardy in two serials about the sleuthing Hardy Boys.

The Shaggy Dog also introduced the "absent-minded inventor" theme that provided the plots of numerous Disney comedies. Kirk played a college student with a passion for a wild experiments in The Misadventures of Merlin Jones (1964) and its sequel, The Monkey's Uncle (1965). His Shaggy Dog co-star Annette Funicello played his college sweetheart. Meanwhile, MacMurray had one of his biggest hits in the title role of The Absent-Minded Professor (1961) and its sequel Son of Flubber (1963).

As for the original Shaggy Dog, it was a big hit that resulted in a belated sequel The Shaggy D.A. (1976), with Dean Jones as the adult Wilby. It also spawned several additional sequels and remakes. That's a pretty impressive legacy for a movie about a teen were-dog.

Jane Powell and Howard Keel (But No Seven Brothers)

Jane Powell and Vic Damone.

Big, splashy Broadway-style musicals had peaked in popularity when MGM released Hit the Deck in 1955. So, kudos to the studio for putting together an incredibly talented cast headlined by Jane Powell, Debbie Reynolds, and Ann Miller. Their male co-stars, though not as well as known on the silver screen, were famous in their right. Crooners Tony Martin and Vic Damone produced records that sold millions and Russ Tamblyn had a key role in the previous year's Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.

Debbie Reynolds and Russ Tamblyn.

Martin, Damone, and Tamblyn play three sailors on leave for two days in San Francisco. Martin hopes to reunite with his fiancée, showgirl Ann Miller. She gives him the cold shoulder, though, after a six-year engagement with no marriage proposal in sight. Meanwhile, Tamblyn learns that his sister (Jane Powell) is involved with a womanizing musical star. He and his chums "rescue" her, but then face disciplinary actions for unacceptable conduct. They spend most of the movie trying to avoid capture by the Navy's shore patrol.

Ann Miller.

Loosely based on a 1927 stage musical with the same title, Hit the Deck is a thinly-plotted excuse for some great musical numbers. Ann Miller dances up a storm in "Keepin' Myself for You" and in the reprise of "Hallelujah" in the finale. Jane Powell warbles the funny "Lucky Bird" to a toy penguin. The three male leads harmonize nicely on "Why, Oh Why?" (my favorite song in the score) and later the ladies reprise it. Finally, Tamblyn and Debbie Reynolds perform some nifty acrobatic feats in an elaborate funhouse sequence.

With its colorful costumes, bright sets, and catchy tunes, Hit the Deck is a pleasant diversion for those who enjoy Broadway musicals. It will also make you wonder why Ann Miller didn't become a bigger film star.

Along with Tamblyn, Jane Powell also appeared in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, which brings us to their Brides co-star Howard Keel. We recently watched him in Callaway Went Thataway (1951), a non-musical comedy that spoofs the popularity of Hopalong Cassidy in the early 1950s.

Dorothy McGuire and Fred MacMurray.

Fred MacMurray and Dorothy McGuire star as Mike and Debbie, a pair of marketing executives who get caught in a bind when cowboy star Smoky Calloway suddenly becomes popular with the nation's kiddies. A food company wants to launch a cereal (Calla-Cracklys) and invest $10 million in a new series of Smoky television films. That's a big problem because Calloway's "B" Westerns were made ten years earlier and Smoky was "a washed-up, beat-up drunk" when last seen--and no one knows where he is now.

Not long after Mike and Debbie launch a desperate search for Smoky, they receive a letter from Stretch Barnes (Howard Keel), a real-life cowboy who is mighty tired of people mistaking him for Smoky Calloway. Sure enough, Stretch is the splitting image of the cowboy star and it's not long before Mike and Debbie convince him to "become" Smoky. Their plan seems to going pretty well when--you guessed it--the real Smoky Calloway is found.

The writing team of Melvin Frank and Norman Panama was responsible for some of the funniest films of the 1940s and 1950s (e.g., The Court Jester, Road to Utopia, White Christmas, etc.). Callaway Went Thataway doesn't rank with their best work, but it's still a reasonably amusing farce with some pointed jabs at corporate America. My favorite is when the "host" of Smoky's films reminds his young audience: "Have your Mom stock up on crispy, crunchy, Crackly Corkies." (Actually, it reminded me of a similar scene in Disney's 101 Dalmatians in which the puppies are watching TV.)

Howard Keel and Howard Keel.

Despite the presence of bigger stars, Howard Keel steals the film with his dual performance as the sincere, naive Stretch and the hard-drinking disreputable Smoky. Esther Williams, Clark Gable, and Elizabeth Taylor have cameos as themselves. Plus, look quickly and you'll see Hugh Beaumont pass Fred MacMurray in a hotel hallway. By 1960, they would be two of the best-known fathers on American television.

The Best Movies You May Have Never Seen (January 2016)

Recommended and reviewed by Gary Cahall, MovieFanFare

Murder, He Says (1945).  This playfully macabre dark comedy is packed with homicidal hillbillies, a hidden fortune and, maybe, an NPR theme song. A sleepy Ozarks community panics over news that Bonnie Fleagle–part of a notorious local outlaw clan–has escaped prison. Picking that moment to pedal into town is Pete Marshall (Fred MacMurray), a bike-riding polling company survey-taker looking for a missing co-worker. Pete’s backwoods search lands him in the clutches of the aforementioned Fleagles: short-tempered, bullwhip-wielding matriarch Mamie (Marjorie Main, Fred's future The Egg and I co-star); her dim-witted twins Bert and Mert (Peter Whitney) and addled daughter Elany (Jean Heather); and Mamie’s latest husband, toxins expert Mr. Johnson (Porter Hall, the twitchy Macy’s psychologist in 1947’s Miracle on 34th Street).

Twins Bert and Mert (far left and right) were played by Peter Whitney.

The oddball brood's final member, bed-ridden Grandma Fleagle (Mabel Paige), is being slowly poisoned--with a substance that makes her glow in the dark--because she knows where Bonnie and her bank-robber pa stashed $70,000 before being caught. Mamie and company coerce Pete into posing as Bonnie’s boyfriend so that Grandma might confide in him before dying. She gives him a sampler whose stitched musical notes (“To them what doesn’t know the tune, sounds like the ravin’s of a loon”) offer a clue. A hitch arises when the fugitive Bonnie (Helen Walker) arrives...sort of. "Bonnie" is really the daughter of a banker wrongly convicted of aiding the Fleagles. Can she and Pete decipher the nonsensical-sounding lyrics (“Honors flysis, Income beezis, Onches nobis, Inob keesis”) Elany sings to the sampler’s melody?

Like 1940's The Ghost Breakers (which this movie mentions in one scene; both were directed by George Marshall for Paramount), Murder, He Says briskly delivers heapin' helpin's of laughs and chills. Along with a dinner which a Lazy Susan-style table and a poisoned dish turn a gastronomic Russian Roulette game, there are chases through secret passages and a climactic barnyard battle with a hay-bailing machine. The bone-riddled decor of the Fleagles’ run-down abode predates the Texas Chain Saw Massacre house, and a luminous dog–one of Hall’s test animals–running through the woods could have come from The Hound of the Baskervilles.

Helen Walker and Fred MacMurray.

The ever-versatile MacMurray easily goes from befuddled to fearful to heroic without skipping a beat. Leading lady Walker, whose career and personal life never recovered after a 1946 car crash, is a suitably spunky heroine. Main mixes Ma Kettle with Ma Barker as the conniving “poor old lady” who can kill a fly in mid-air with her whip, while shifty-eyed Hall continuously pops up from hidden doorways or tunnels. Best, though, is the hulking Whitney's dual turn as Mert/Bert (the trick photography is convincing, even by today’s standards). When MacMurray asks how you tell them apart, Main explains that Bert has “a crick in his back,” then demonstrates by slapping Whitney’s back…instantly dropping him to his knees in a contorted, immobilized heap.

Oh, and the NPR theme? Listen to Elany sing Gramdma’s song. Doesn’t it sound like the opening notes to “All Things Considered?”
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Recommended and reviewed by Silver Screenings

Scott of the Antarctic (1948).  Have you ever wanted to go on an adventure that tests you so thoroughly you don't know if you'll come through it intact?

If so, you might be interested in the 1948 British adventure flick, Scott of the Antarctic, a grim re-enactment of Robert Falcon Scott's 1911-12 expedition to the South Pole. Scott, a former naval officer, is consumed with being the first person to reach the South Pole.

As you might imagine, Scott and his team are up against it on all sides. Not only must they contend with the weather and inhospitable landscape, they're racing against another team, led by famed Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen. Amundsen is never shown in the film, but he is an ever-present monkey on Scott's back.

Much of the movie was filmed in the desolate snow of Norway. The actors pull heavy sleds through deep snow and pour tea inside cramped tents. No scenes shot in front of a green screen here; this filmmaking is about authentic as it gets.

It’s not a movie that spares you the savage realities of travelling through the Antarctic. Prior to embarking on his expedition, Scott is advised not to bring motorized sleds. Dogs are much more useful, he is told, because once "a dog is finished, he is still useful to the other dogs."

Man vs. the harsh elements.

Yikes! Now that we've almost frightened you away, let us point out that the acting in the movie is pitch-perfect. Expedition leader Scott is portrayed by the great John Mills who, as it turns out, has a passing resemblance to the real Scott.

Then there's James Robertson Justice, who plays injured team member Evans. In one scene, there is a close-up of Justice against the bitter white snow: his face reveals his determination despite his physical pain; then the realization that he is unable keep up with the others; and, finally, the knowledge that he's going to die, here, at the bottom of the world.

The legendary cinematographer Jack Cardiff has captured amazing images: penguins squirting out of the water and onto the ice; stark white icebergs resting in the ocean; sled dogs breaking out of drifts of snow after a night's sleep.

Scott of the Antarctic is a haunting movie that was the #4 box-office draw in Britain in 1948. It is arguably one of the best adventure movies made.

The Five Best Fred MacMurray Performances

A versatile performer in film and television for five decades, Fred MacMurray deserved more opportunities to display his acting talents. Still, when he got the chance to bite into a good role, he did so convincingly--whether it was in a Billy Wilder film noir or a Walt Disney family comedy. Below are our picks for his six best performances--yes, there's a tie for the fifth spot. Do you agree? Disagree? As always, all feedback is welcomed.

1. Double Indemnity - Fred gave a career-defining performance as the cynical protagonist of Billy Wilder's classic film noir. His insurance salesman is no fool; he realizes that Barbara Stanwyck's femme fatale is up to no good from their first meeting. However, he also knows that he can't resist her and thus is pulled into a web of deceit and murder. Amazingly, MacMurray keeps the audience from despising his character. His genuine friendship with nice guy Edward G. Robinson helps, as does the feeling that he knows he's doing wrong, but is powerless to do anything about it.

2. The Apartment - There is nothing redeeming about Jeff Sheldrake, a corporate executive that uses his position for personal gain, cheats on his wife, and lies to his mistress. MacMurray, reteaming with Billy Wilder, plays Sheldrake with a hard edge. The only time he displays what appears to be genuine emotion is when he tells his mistress that he's leaving his wife--and, of course, that turns out to be a ploy, too. Sheldrake is a jerk and Fred plays him beautifully.

3. Murder, He Says - I'm surprised this cult comedy hasn't gained a more mainstream reputation over the years. Fred plays a pollster trying to find a missing co-worker who was sent to interview the backwoods Fleagle clan (headed by matriarch Marjorie Main). MacMurray grounds the film as the bewildered hero plopped into a plot about hidden gold, murder, assumed identities, and a seemingly nonsensical song. He and Marjorie Main play off each other extremely well. They later appeared together in the more popular The Egg and I, which led to the Ma and Pa Kettle film series.

4. Remember the Night - Prior to Double Indemnity, Fred MacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck starred in this charming romance about a prosecutor and a shoplifter who fall in love over the Christmas holidays as she awaits trial. It's an unlikely premise, of course, but the two stars pull it off nicely and Preston Sturges' script carefully navigates through the film's more sentimental scenes. Though some people find the ending disappointing, I love it--primarily because it's true to MacMurray's character.

5. Quantez - The best of MacMurray's 1950s Westerns is a nifty character drama about an outlaw gang hiding out in a ghost town en route to Mexico. MacMurray's bandit, while the toughest and most rugged of the lot, is also the one least prone to condone violence. It's no surprise that he's harboring a secret past, but the way in which it's revealed is the highlight of this intriguing little picture.

5. The Absent-Minded Professor - Fred is perfectly cast as an (what else?) absent-minded college professor who gets so caught up with his experiments that he forgets his own wedding. Fortunately, his latest invention, Flubber, eventually saves the day. During the latter part of his career, Fred specialized in family films, often playing occasionally befuddled fathers in comedies like The Shaggy Dog and The Happiest Millionaire and on TV in My Three Sons. It's fascinating to watch him playing those parts with such ease after a recent viewing of Double Indemnity or The Apartment.

Honorable Mentions: The Caine Mutiny; Take a Letter, Darling; and Alice Adams.

Fred MacMurray and Alligators Can't Save "The Happiest Millionaire"

Fred MacMurray as the title character.

The most baffling thing about The Happiest Millionaire is its intended audience. It's hard to imagine many youngsters sitting through a 172-minute musical (though there were multiple versions, including a "shorter" 116-minute edition). The leading characters are a middle-aged millionaire and his 20-year-old daughter. And the plot is basically a love story with some eccentric characters added for flavor. Ultimately, The Happiest Millionaire is too childish for grown-ups and too grown up for children.

Steele dancing in the streets.

Despite such challenges, the film gets off to a perky start with Tommy Steele singing and dancing to "Fortuosity"  along the streets of 1916 Philadelphia. Steele plays John Lawless, an Irish immigrant fresh off the ship, who hopes to work as a butler for the wealthy Biddle family. What John doesn't know is that the Biddles, especially father Anthony J. Drexel Biddle (Fred MacMurray), are a bit eccentric. Mr. Biddle keeps pet alligators in the conservatory and teaches bible classes that incorporate boxing. Indeed, all the Biddle children--to include the only daughter, Cordy--are well versed in the pugilistic arts.

Warren and Davidson duet.

Cordy's aunt suggests that the young woman attend the Wingfield School for Girls to learn the finer social graces. Surprisingly, Cordy (Lesley Ann Warren) agrees, much to her doting father's dismay. While attending a dance, Cordy meets Angier "Angie" Buchanan Duke (John Davidson) and it's love at first sight. However, it quickly becomes apparent that neither set of parents approve of a possible marriage between their children.

On paper, The Happiest Millionaire must have resembled a boxoffice winner. MacMurray, who was still popular thanks to My Three Sons, had appeared in some of Disney's most successful live-action films (e.g., The Absent-Minded Professor, The Shaggy Dog). Newcomer Warren had charmed television viewers in the lead role in Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella. Greer Garson and Geraldine Page headed an impressive supporting cast. And composers Richard and Robert Sherman were just three years removed from their monster hit Mary Poppins.

Steele dancing with alligator.

Alas, a strong pedigree doesn't result in a good movie. Yes, there are a handful of inspired musical numbers: the previously-mentioned "Fortuosity"; Warren and Davidson's pretty duet "Are We Dancing?"; and Davidson and Steele in a barroom production number called "Let's Have a Drink on It." However, for most of its lumbering length, The Happiest Millionaire vainly tries to turn on the charm. Steele, who can be too energetic (e.g., Finian's Rainbow), tries to inject life into the proceedings, often talking to the audience or offering a sly wink. Unfortunately, his butler character fades to the background for most of the film.

A colorful look is one of the film's virtues.

From a production standpoint, The Happiest Millionaire offers a feast for the eyes. It earned an Oscar nomination for its costumes, but equally impressive are the elaborate sets, the recreated period look, and the bright autumn colors.

Interestingly, there really was an Anthony J. Drexel Biddle, who was indeed an eccentric Philadelphia millionaire interested in boxing and alligators. And, as portrayed in The Happiest Millionaire, his daughter Cordelia married Angier Buchanan Duke (whose family established an endowment to Duke University). In 1955, Cordelia co-wrote a biography about her father, which was adapted as a play starring Walter Pidgeon. Apparently, no live alligators were in it!

Double Indemnity: There Is No Insurance for Murder

When it comes to the ultimate femme fatale you need only think of one name: Phyllis Dietrichson. Many have tried to surpass her—many have failed. In her first unsympathetic villainess role, Barbara Stanwyck set the bar so high that you can’t even measure how short other actresses have fallen trying to be as good a femme fatale as she was in Double Indemnity (1944). One of the great travesties in Academy Award history is that Stanwyck, who was nominated four times for Best Actress, never won an Oscar. She was nominated for this film in 1944, but lost to Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight. Many film critics believe this was a glaring oversight by the Academy, citing the outright nastiness and amoral nature of her character as the reason she was snubbed. Quite frankly, Hollywood wasn’t ready for Phyllis Dietrichson. And, when you think about it, who could ever be ready for such an evil force of nature?

Legendary auteur Billy Wilder directed this penultimate film noir, which was nominated for seven Academy Awards: Best Picture, Best Actress, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Cinematography (black and white), Best Sound, and Best Score. It won none. Perhaps a film about an adulterous murder plot to collect insurance money was just too much for a country at war.

With the help of the great detective novelist Raymond Chandler, Wilder adapted the James M. Cain novella Three of a Kind into one of the greatest screenplays of the Golden Age of Hollywood. Chandler and Wilder’s dialogue is searing and sharp and the overall storyline is a taut, thrilling ride down a boulevard of betrayal. In a film noir staple, the film is told in the past tense, via voiceover. The story involves a very unsatisfied (I suspect mostly in the Biblical sense) housewife (Stanwyck) and an easily enticed insurance salesman. While carrying on a licentious affair, the couple kill the husband to claim a double indemnity clause in his accidental death policy. What follows the murder is suspicion, guilt, double-crosses and bullets.

Aided by the deft cinematography of John Seitz (whom Wilder worked with on several films), Wilder captured the unseemly nature of Hollywood, incorporating several locales into the film—most notably the Hollywood Bowl and the Glendale train station. Roger Ebert has said that Seitz’s photography in this film “helped develop the noir style of sharp-edged shadows and shots, strange angles and lonely settings." Countless “venetian blind” shots are used.

The film opens with injured, Pacific All-Risk Insurance Company salesman Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray in a rare bad-guy role) staggering into the company’s building one early Los Angeles morning to record, via Dictaphone, how and why he committed the “perfect crime” for a woman wearing blonde bangs, honeysuckle perfume and an anklet. It all started innocently enough when he accidentally met bored housewife Phyllis Dietrichson at her faux-Spanish mansion while stopping by to get her husband to renew his car insurance. In one of the more memorable film entrances, Stanwyck enters the screen wearing only a towel and a flirtatious smile. When she emerges next to “properly” meet Neff she’s wearing a revealing dress and her signature anklet. For those of you who don’t know, the old theory was that women who wore anklets were loose women. Her use of her legs as a diversionary tactic in this scene is something that Sharon Stone would use in Basic Instinct—of course Stanwyck was wearing panties…I hope. A double-entendre conversation ensues between them about speeding cars, where Neff makes it clear he’s interested in insuring he sees her again. That is soon arranged, as Phyllis asks him to come back the next evening to speak to her husband about the policy.

Later that day Neff introduces us to by-the-book claims investigator Baton Keyes (Edward G. Robinson), a man consumed with getting every detail right and uncovering shady insurance claims. (Keyes is the man for whom Neff is recording his crimes.) While in his office, Phyllis calls and changes their appointment for the next afternoon. Strangely enough when he arrives the next day, Mr. Dietrichson (Tom Powers) is not at home again and it’s the maid’s day off. In addition, Phyllis seems very concerned about the dangerous nature of her husband’s work (he spends a lot of time in his oil fields). So much so, that she asks about buying an accident policy without her husband knowing about it. Shocked by the suggestion and angry that she thought he was so stupid that he couldn’t see what she was planning, Walter huffily walks out on the blonde bombshell.

Yet, later that night when he finds Phyllis standing in his doorway (returning a hat she doesn’t seem to have) he doesn’t exactly slam the door in her face. Perhaps it was the clingy sweater she was wearing, or even the scent of wafting honeysuckle in the air. After explaining she doesn’t want him to get the wrong impression about her and that her life with Mr. Dietrichson is horrible, Walter grabs her and plants a “red-hot” kiss on her lips. Later, Phyllis explains that she often fantasizes about killing her husband with carbon monoxide poisoning in the garage. To Neff there are three bonuses to this plan: $1000,000, beating the insurance game, and having Phyllis all to himself. Presumably after they have consummated their newfound relationship (he smokes a cigarette and she reapplies her makeup), Neff agrees to help her kill her husband and make it look like an accident, but everything had to be “straight down the line” as he doesn’t want there to be any mistakes for Keyes to find.

A few days later Neff arrives at the Dietrichson house to have Mr. Dietrichson renew his auto insurance policy. Leading the unknowing husband to believe he must sign duplicate forms, Neff gets him to sign his own death warrant. The next part of the plan concerns having Mr. Dietrichson take the train instead of his car on his next trip to Stanford. The double indemnity clause pays twice as much for a death that occurs on a train. They use the local grocery store as their clandestine meeting place to plan their crime. A monkey wrench is thrown into their plan when Mr. Dietrichson breaks his leg, but only temporarily. When Mr. Dietrichson decides to take his trip after all, using crutches to get around, Neff and Phyllis hatch a plan where he takes the place of the injured husband on the train. Disguised as the soon- to-be dead husband, Neff hides in the back of the Dietrichson car while Phyllis drives Mr. Dietrichson to the Glendale train station. When she honks the horn three times he pops up from the back seat and breaks the husband’s neck. While the murder isn’t shown on screen, Wilder uses a close-up of the unflinching face of Phyllis staring straight ahead as her husband is being murdered on the seat beside her to convey the vileness of the murder. Taking the husband’s place on the train, Neff later jumps from the train when it slows down and he and Phyllis put Mr. Dietrichson’s body on the tracks. Now they just had to wait.

Although the police don’t suspect foul play, the insurance company wants to investigate to see if they can get out of paying the double indemnity clause. Keyes is assigned the case and told by the company president that they want him to find out if Mr. Dietrichson killed himself. In a meeting with Phyllis, the company president explains the situation and offers to make a smaller settlement to her. Pretending to be unaware of the policy, Phyllis feigns fury and storms out. Meanwhile, Keyes doesn’t think suicide by slow-moving train is very likely and tells Neff that the case seems like a legitimate one.

Later, with Phyllis on her way to his apartment, Neff opens the door and finds Keyes. Something just popped into his head about the case: why hadn’t Mr.Dietrichson filed an accident claim when he broke his leg? Perhaps, Keyes believes, because he didn’t know about the policy but that Phyllis did. Luckily for the dastardly duo Phyllis can overhear Keyes from the hallway and she hides behind the door until he leaves. Cracks begin to appear in their relationship as Phyllis is angry that Neff suggests they not see each other while the investigation is taking place. In addition, Mr. Dietrichson’s daughter, Lola (Jean Heather), suggests to Neff that Phyllis not only killed her father but her own mother as well when she was her nurse. Oh, and by the way, step-mommy is sleeping with her ex-boyfriend, Zachetti (Byron Barr), as well. Feeling sorry for the girl and wanting to keep her quiet, Neff begins spending time with her as a substitute for Phyllis.

After putting the pieces of his investigation together, Keyes reveals to Neff what really happened in the Dietrichson case: the husband was killed by his wife and her lover. He explains to Neff every step of the crime correctly, but he doesn’t suspect Neff. Nervous, Neff and Phyllis meet yet again at the supermarket. Phyllis is highly suspicious when Neff suggest she not sue for the insurance claim and is even more suspicious about the time he has been spending with Lola. She coldly reminds Neff that their in it “straight down the line.” Neff starts to think that things would be better if Phyllis were dead, especially after Keyes determines that Zachetti was Phyllis’ accomplice. And, so the fateful 11 'o’clock meeting is set at the mansion.

With Zachetti as his fall guy, Neff determines to rid himself of the one person who can connect him to the murder: Phyllis. Shadowed by venetian blind slats, a living room of death awaits the final showdown between Phyllis and Neff. Oh, but Phyllis has her own suspicions that the double-cross is on. So, after unlocking the door for her accomplice, she sits down in a chair with her pearl-handled gun hidden under the cushion. When Neff arrives he informs Phyllis of his plan to off-her and frame Zachetti for everything. Really? How stupid can you be? Phyllis informs him she has her own plans and they don’t involve her death but his own. In an excellent climatic scene, Neff closes the living room blinds and when the room goes black a shot rings out. The next thing we see is Neff staggered by a bullet and Phyllis standing over him hesitating to finish him off. In a strange twist, Phyllis surrenders to her love for Neff and allows him to take the gun from her. While vulnerably embracing him some form of intelligence returns to her brain when she feels the barrel of the gun pointing at her chest. Two point blank shots to the chest and it’s “goodbye baby”. Really? I don’t like this ending at all, but it was Hollywood 1944, so what can I expect?

The final scene of the film finds Neff in his office with Keyes, who is shocked by what his friend has done. When Neff asks him to give him four hours before calling the police, Robinson delivers the great line: “You’ll never make the border…you’ll never even make the elevator.” He was right.

The twists and turns of this thrilling film noir are enough to make your pulse race. You pair the stellar storyline to the raw sexuality that Stanwyck brought to her role as Phyllis and this is a wonderful film to just sit and absorb. While both Fred MacMurray and Edward G. Robinson do great jobs with their respective characters, this film belongs to Stanwyck. This was, without a doubt, her greatest dramatic role. She was so good in this role that countless male fans who had loved her before seeing this film actually started to dislike her after seeing it. She and Double Indemnity are a “straight down the line” treat to watch.

12 Days of Christmas: When Fred Met Barbara - "Remember the Night" (1940)

In my family Now Voyager has long been the movie that we could sit and watch for 24 hours a day; we all know the dialogue and we compete to see who does the best Bette Davis impression. However, another film is poised to take the place of the iconic Warner Bros. romance. Remember the Night stars Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray, the future murderous lovers of Double Indemnity, in very different roles as improbable soul mates who find the gift of love at Christmas. Although written by Preston Sturges, this is not one of his screwball comedies, but rather a comedy drama laced with darker moments; the bittersweet ending is a still a subject of debate to this day. It is well documented that director Mitchell Leisen ( Midnight, Frenchman's Creek, Hold Back the Dawn, To Each His Own ) made many changes to Sturges' screenplay. He cut scenes out completely, pared down others, and switched the emphasis from Fred MacMurray to Barbara Stanwyck. Although understandably unhappy with Leisen's script tampering, Sturges showed up every day on the set during shooting. He spent a lot of time with Barbara Stanwyck and promised to write a screwball comedy for her, which he did one year later with The Lady Eve. But his negative experience on this film led him to finally fulfill his dream of directing his own scripts; his first film as writer-director was The Great McGinty. Even though Remember the Night opened to favorable reviews, Sturges dismissed it summarily as unadulterated schmaltz

You were wrong Mr. Sturges! The greatness of this film lies in the fact that every moment that could have turned into a melodramatic cliché was transformed into a quietly believable interaction between characters. The growing love between Stanwyck and MacMurray is presented as a series of revelatory exchanges and actions which surprise both of them by creating feelings of affection and attraction which neither had expected. Barbara Stanwyck is magnificent in her portrayal of a petty criminal, cynical and initially unsympathetic, whose view of the world is softened by a holiday visit with MacMurray's family.















The basic story of Remember the Night involves a shoplifter, Lee Leander (Barbara Stanwyck) arrested on Christmas Eve trying to steal a diamond bracelet, facing prosecution by an assistant district attorney, John Sargent (Fred MacMurray) who knows he won't get a conviction from a jury on Christmas Eve and motions to postpone the trial until after the holiday. He feels bad about Lee's spending Christmas in jail and bails her out. She is brought to his apartment believing that he wants her to spend the night as repayment for posting bail. But that is not the case, and John tells her to go home but not before he takes her out to dinner. They are seen together at the restaurant by the judge in the case and leave quickly. Sargent is on his way home to Indiana to spend the holidays with his family and finds out that Lee also is a Hoosier, and offers to drop her off on the way home and pick her up on the return trip. Lee's attempt to reconcile with her estranged mother proves disastrous when the callous and unforgiving woman turns her own daughter out of her childhood home. John takes pity on her, inviting her to spend the holidays with his family. It is during this time that Lee's proximity to a loving family and the joy they share with each other breaks down the barriers she has set up for protection against the harsh world she inhabits. The affection that develops between her and John is depicted in small increments with unexpected outcomes. It is in this nurturing setting that Stanwyck begins to glow, exuding a brilliance, almost an inner light, perhaps reflecting a new found hope for the future. There are scenes in which Lee Leander is no longer a character played by Barbara Stanwyck, but a young woman with a troubled past accepting the kindness she is offered, and taking a new interest in changing the direction of her life. In one scene, while vigorously brushing her hair, Stanwyck seems to acknowledge the possibility that she could establish a better life for herself; with every stroke one more strand of her past falls away. She continues to engage in family-oriented activities; playing the piano and singing on Christmas Eve; and going to the annual barn dance, dressed in an old-fashioned party gown, with corset and layers of undergarments. With a bow in her hair and looking as lovely as a photograph from another era, she weakens John's resistance to his growing affection for her and he professes his love. They embrace and share their first meaningful kiss and John seems to be willing to forsake his burgeoning career in order to be with Lee. This change is not lost on John's mother; she approaches Lee and wistfully explains the hardships that her son endured in order to become a lawyer, intimating that a relationship with her would be detrimental to his future. John however is aware of his mother's objections and will not end his relationship with Lee. On the return trip for the court date John offers Lee a chance for freedom in Canada; with Niagara Falls as the backdrop Lee chooses to continue on to her trial.
















Still determined to prevent Lee from going to prison, John badgers and bullies Lee on the witness stand, until Lee realizes he is trying to throw the case. She interrupts his questioning and declares to the judge that she wants to plead guilty much to John's dismay. He follows her as she is led out of the courtroom and agonizingly questions her decision. For Lee the only way to redeem herself and make herself worthy of John's love is to pay for the crime that she committed. She refuses John's proposal of marriage but tells him that if he feels the same way when she's released she will marry him.


The most poignant moment in this scene however occurs when Lee asks John to hold her hand during her sentencing, indicating that she is frightened by the prospect of prison, but still determined to do the right thing. The ending of this film is written and performed in a way that leaves the audience without a definite idea of what will happen in the future. There is no guarantee that John's love will survive introspection or that Lee's rehabilitation will be successful. The darkness attributed to this ending is another way of saying that the outcome is uncertain as it is in real life.

Remember the Night is essentially a movie for all seasons. It doesn't hammer you over the head with lessons in morality, but rather gently and effectively depicts how love can heal a wounded spirit and change the course of one's life.