Showing posts with label gene barry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gene barry. Show all posts

Monday, April 4, 2022

Rosemary Clooney's Red Garters

Rosemary singing the title song.
For years, I assumed that Red Garters was Rosemary Clooney's follow-up to White Christmas. In reality, both films were released in 1954 and Red Garters hit theaters several months before Paramount's huge holiday hit. As Clooney once noted, Red Garters is the only movie in which she received top billing. That's ironic since it's basically an ensemble musical and her role is a supporting one.

The story focuses on Reb Randall (Guy Mitchell), an easygoing gunslinger who has come to Limbo County, California, in search of the man that killed his no-good brother. Reb barely hits town when he falls head over heels for the comely Susan Martinez De La Cruz. Her guardian, Jason Carberry (Jack Carson), runs the town while flirting with every female resident--often in front of his girlfriend Calaveras Kate (Clooney). There's also a Mexican gunslinger (Gene Barry), who strives to avoid any discussion on who might have killed Reb's brother.

Guy Mitchell and Rosemary Clooney.
It's a light plot, but provides enough structure to support the musical numbers given the film's 91-minute running time. What separates Red Garters from other musicals of the 1950s is its unique set design. It eschews realism in favor of minimalist structures and backdrops. The buildings are simply fronts and the backdrop a yellow canvas with some artificial trees. It's an unusual look that works well for awhile, but ultimately grows tiresome. Given that Red Garters was filmed in 3D, the end result is it's the most "stagey" of stagey musicals. Still, it earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Art Direction-Set Decoration (Color).

Jay Livingston and Ray Evans composed the score, which is pleasant without being memorable. The best songs are "Man and Woman,"a lively duet featuring Evans' clever lyrics, and "Bad News," a big ballad for Rosemary Clooney. She and Guy Mitchell have most of the solo numbers. Like Clooney, Mitchell was already an established recording star who would have more success on television than on the big screen.

Gene Barry in a gunfight!
Red Garters was not a box office hit, but it's a unique movie that's definitely worth a look. In addition to Rosemary Clooney and the unusual sets, you get to see a very limber Buddy Ebsen and a surprising Gene Barry hoofing it up. Gene's scene is quick, but a great reminder that he was a musical star on stage, earning a Tony nomination for La Cage aux Folles.

Here's a clip of Rosemary Clooney singing "Bad News," courtesy of our YouTube Channel:

Thursday, July 2, 2020

Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Season One

The new streaming app Peacock TV officially launches on July 15, 2020. However, it's available now for customers of Comcast's Xfinity cable service. Most of the TV shows on Peacock are recent ones from NBC. A wonderful exception is Alfred Hitchcock Presents, the classic anthology series that aired for seven seasons starting in 1955. (Incidentally, The Alfred Hitchcock Hour is also available.)

While not as consistently good as The Twilight Zone, Alfred Hitchcock Presents was an above-average series comprised of twisty tales. Each episode also featured a wryly amusing prologue and epilogue starring Alfred Hitchcock. Occasionally, these were better than the stories that they book-ended!

The actors that appeared on AHP were a mix of big-name stars (Claude Rains, Joseph Cotten, Barry Fitzgerald, Thelma Ritter, Claire Trevor), promising newcomers (Vera Miles, Joanne Woodward, John Cassavetes, Charles Bronson), and Hitchcock movie regulars (John Williams, Pat Hitchcock). The Master of Suspense directed four of the 39 episodes.

Here are our picks for the best episodes from the first season:

Vera Miles in "Revenge."
Revenge - The first episode of the series is one of its finest! Vera Miles stars as a woman, recovering from a nervous breakdown, who claims she was assaulted in her mobile home. Later, she identifies the assailant to her husband. The twist ending is downright chilling. Hitchcock directed.

Premonition - A man (John Forsyte) returns to his hometown from Paris, packing only his toothbrush. He wants to make up with his estranged father, but everyone keeps putting obstacles in his way. Forsyte is excellent, but the outcome becomes apparent just before the climax.

Salvage - An ex-con (Gene Barry) seeks revenge on the woman who caused his brother's death. Yet, instead of killing her, he has a change of heart at the last minute--and then proceeds to help her become successful and content. A devious plot that works quite well.

Joseph Cotten in "Breakdown."
Breakdown - Hitchcock directed this tale in which style takes precedence over content. A ruthless businessman (Joseph Cotten) becomes completely paralyzed in a car accident and cannot communicate that he is alive. But we, the audience, can hear his thoughts as he becomes more and more desperate. An unique and satisfying episode.

The Case of Mr. Pelham - Another Hitchcock-directed episode in which a man (Tom Ewell) discovers that a lookalike is taking over his life. Genuinely bizarre, but still fascinating until the ending which I found somewhat lacking.

Marissa Paven and John Cassavetes.
You Got to Have Luck - A killer (John Cassavetes) breaks out of prison and hides out in an isolated farmhouse occupied by a young wife (Marissa Paven). Well-acted and featuring one of the best twists of the season.

The Creeper - A serial killer is murdering blonde-haired women in New York City during a hot spell. Blonde-haired Ellen Grant (Constance Ford), whose husband works at night, suspects everyone. A taut tale that benefits mightily from Ford's excellent performance and an atmospheric setting that captures the discomfort and unease experienced by the characters.

Interested in more Alfred Hitchcock Presents? Check out our picks for the series' five best episodes!

Sunday, June 26, 2016

George Pal's Production of H.G. Wells' The War of the Worlds

The Martian machines and their force fields.
H.G. Wells purists may quibble with George Pal's 1953 production of The War of the Worlds. True enough, little remains of the novel's original plot. However, Pal and director Byron Haskin successfully balance the large-scale scope of the Earth's desperate struggle for survival with vignettes that capture the humanity of mankind. In doing so, they created one of the most influential science fiction films of the 1950s.

Gene Barry as Forrester.
Gene Barry stars as Dr. Clayton Forrester, an astro physicist from the Pacific Institute of Science and Technology, whose fishing trip is interrupted when a meteor lands in a small California town. At the meteor site, Forrester meets Sylvia Van Buren (Ann Robinson), an attractive USC library science teacher. In a classic "meet cute," she starts babbling about the great Clayton Forrester--unaware that she is talking with him.

The meteor, of course, turns out be one of many Martian spacecrafts sent as part of an epic invasion. In no time at all, cities like Paris are crumbling to the ground as the Earth's weapons prove useless against the invaders' most advanced technology. Can the Earth be saved?

The combat scenes remain impressive today with the Martians' triangular black-and-green war machines flitting over the battleground as they fire their incinerating death rays. Not surprisingly, these striking scenes earned The War of the Worlds an Oscar for Best Special Effects. It was nominated for Best Film Editing and Best Sound--and should have won the latter. It did win an award for sound from the Motion Picture Sound Editors, USA.

The uncredited SFX team used no computer digital technology!

A Martian hand on Robinson.
Despite its technical achievements, it's the more intimate scenes that give War of the Worlds its emotional strength. In fact, there are four that stand out for me on each viewing. Two are justly famous: (1) the scene where the priest walks fearlessly toward the aliens--Bible in hand, reciting a prayer--only to be obliterated; (2) the deserted farmhouse sequence with Gene Barry and Ann Robinson, in which she comes face-to-face with one of the Martians.

The other two scenes of note are less widely praised, but equally impressive. The first occurs when, as a last resort, the U.S. military uses an atomic bomb to stop the Martians...only to watch in futility as an alien craft emerges from a cloud of debris ("Guns, tanks, bombs--they're like toys against them," says a general). The final scene I'll mention occurs near the climax when Forrester, who has been separated from Sylvia, finds her in a church as Los Angeles faces imminent destruction. With explosions lighting up the church's stained glass windows, a loud crashing sound causes everyone in the church to instinctively drop to the ground--except for Forester and Sylvia who remain standing in their embrace.

Playwright Barré Lyndon, who penned the screenplay, incorporates strong religious themes throughout the film. Examples include the scenes with the priest and in the church, the pending Armageddon, and even the narration that describes how the Martians were finally defeated.

Michael Rennie as the good alien Klaatu.
The 1950s remains the peak decade for science fiction films with bona fide classics like The Day the Earth Stood Still, The Thing, Forbidden Planet, and Invasion of the Body Snatchers. The War of the Worlds can't top any of those four, but making it into the top 5 is an impressive achievement.

By the way, Ann Robinson reprised her role as Sylvia 36 years later in three episodes of the funky syndicated TV series War of the Worlds.

Sunday, January 4, 2015

Frankie and Annette as Murder Suspects? It's Burke's Law!

Could Annette be a murderer?
I've recently rediscovered Burke's Law, the 1963-65 TV series starring Gene Barry as the head of the LAPD homicide division--who also happens to be a millionaire. Last Friday, I randomly selected the episode "Who Killed the Strangler?", which opens with a wrestler (called the Strangler, of course) abruptly dropping dead in the ring.

As the camera panned the inevitable murder suspects in the crowd, a young man with glasses and a pretty brunette looked familiar. The show's title credits soon confirmed that those guest stars were indeed Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello. As those of you who visit the Cafe regularly know, we love us some Beach Party movies. Thus, this episode of Burke's Law turned out to be an unexpected delight--even if it wasn't one of the series' better efforts. 

Barry as Amos Burke.
For the uninitiated, each episode of Burke's Law follows a similar structure. Typically, it begins with a homicide that interrupts Amos Burke, who almost always spends his leisure time in the company of an attractive woman. Captain Burke and his two subordinates, seasoned detective Les Hart (Regis Toomey) and the less experienced Tim Tilson (Gary Conway), then interview the suspects. These potential murderers are played by the guest stars, many of whom are veterans of classic Hollywood cinema (e.g., William Bendix, Joan Blondell, Elsa Lanchester, Dorothy Lamour, Walter Pidgeon, Ann Blyth, Jane Greer, etc.). At the climax, Amos comes to a startling conclusion that exposes the culprit. Oh, and I forgot to mention that every female in the cast swoons over Amos (to include Annette).

In addition to Frankie and Annette, "Who Killed the Strangler?" also featured Jeanne Crain (still radiant at 40), Una Merkel (who fought Marlene in Destry Rides Again), and Robert Middleton. Each guest star has about ten minutes of screen time--except for the murderer who gets unmasked in the climax (I guessed the culprit).

Annette, in fringe, with Gene Barry.
For the record, Annette plays an aspiring ballerina who moonlights as a go-go dancer because her brother, the Strangler, refused to give her any money. Beach Party fans are certain to enjoy watching Annette shake her fringe dress in the best Candy Johnson tradition (but let's admit it, Candy was in a class by herself). It's also fun listening to Annette spout "hip" dialogue about topics such as Squaresville!

Frankie looks suspicious in glasses!
Frankie doesn't fare as well as a sports journalist who uses a "method" technique (you know, like method acting) to write about horse racing, tennis, and wrestling. It may sound clever, but the idea wears thin quickly and Frankie tries too hard to make his scene funny.

Still, it's a fairly entertaining episode and par for the series. An added bonus for Beach Party fans is that Quinn O'Hara has a small role; she would go on to star in The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini. On the downside, I wish that Jeanne Crain had been given more screen time and a more interesting character.

My sister's Burke's
Law
 comic book.
The history of Burke's Law has always intrigued me. Playwright Frank D. Gilroy (The Subject Was Roses) created the the character of Amos Burke for the first episode of The Dick Powell Theatre in 1961. Titled "Who Killed Julie Greer?", it starred Dick Powell as the wealthy detective and featured a supporting cast comprised of Nick Adams, Ralph Bellamy, Ronald Reagan, Jack Carson, Edgar Bergen, Lloyd Bridges, Mickey Rooney, and Carolyn Jones (as the murder victim). Dean Jones and Edward Platt (Chief on Get Smart) played detectives.

Gene with Peter Barton in the
1994-95 revival.
It premiered as a regular TV series on ABC in 1963 with Gene Barry. Burke's Law was a solid ratings performer and even spun off the 1965-66 TV series Honey West; Anne Francis first appeared as Honey in the Burke's Law episode "Who Killed the Jackpot?" However, in 1965, at the height of the spy movie craze, the series was unwisely revamped as Amos Burke, Secret Agent. The new show was cancelled after 17 episodes. It went out with a bang, though, with a nifty two-parter called "Terror in a Tiny Town" which places Amos in a community filled with residents that inexplicably want to kill him.

In 1994, CBS revived Burke's Law with a new series about Amos (still played by Gene Barry) and his son Peter (Peter Barton). It maintained the lighthearted approach of the original series, but never captured much of an audience. It was cancelled after a single season.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Cult Movie Theatre: The Atomic City

Having recently enjoyed Gene Barry portraying a meticulous murderer, I decided to check out other films made by the star of Bat Masterson and Burke's Law. That's how I stumbled upon his film debut, The Atomic City, a taut 1952 suspense film that earned an Oscar nomination for Best Story and Screenplay.

Barry and Lydia Clarke as the parents.
Barry plays Dr. Frank Addison,  a nuclear scientist who lives in Los Alamos, New Mexico, with his wife Martha (Lydia Clarke) and seven-year-old son Tommy (Lee Aaker). Dr. Addison is one of the top scientists at a top-secret government facility dedicated to creating the atomic bomb. When Tommy is kidnapped, it quickly becomes apparent that the culprits don't want money for the ransom--they want what's inside Dr. Addison's head.

When the FBI gets involved, they explain to Addison their priorities are to keep our enemies from getting the bomb, apprehend the people responsible, and return Tommy safely to his family. Addison, realizing what this means, confirms to himself: "That's the order of their importance. One. Two. Three. Tommy's number three."

The Addison clinch as the camera
moves in on the kidnappers' note.
The Atomic City seems like the kind of film that would have attracted Hitchcock. In fact, there's one scene that rivals Hitch at his best and it's set up beautifully. Tommy spends the morning talking about bicycles because he hopes to win one during a school field trip to the Santa Fe Fiesta. After the children watch a puppet show, the big moment comes and Tommy's ticket number is called. But there are no shouts of joy, only silence. When his teacher turns around to look for Tommy, his seat is empty. Tommy's teacher searches frantically for Tommy, but cannot find him at the festival. When she calls the Addisons, Tommy's father says that his mother picked up their son. Only after Dr. Addison hangs up do we see the printed message delivered to the parents: "Tommy is our guest. You will get details about it tonight at the dance."

Journeyman director Jerry Hopper makes excellent use of the setting. The camera lingers on the "restricted" and "contaminated" signs in Los Alamos as the children skip playfully past them. Mrs. Addison, Tommy, and Tommy's friend are oblivious when a "routine" bomb test shakes their house--though it greatly alarms a TV delivery man. Outside the city, the southwestern architecture, the mountains, and caves give the film a unique look.

For the most part, the script effectively captures the detailed procedures required to track down a spy network responsible for a kidnapping. For example, having filmed the enemy's pickup man interacting with other people at a baseball game, the FBI shows the footage to a group of undercover "party members." They sit in a darkened room in separate booths that prevent each one from seeing the individuals surrounding them. Precautions must be taken--even within the safe confines of the FBI headquarters.

Perhaps because of this methodical approach, the occasional gaffes tend to stand out. For example, Martha Addison complains about the FBI providing security every time the family ventures outside Los Alamos. So, why weren't security personnel covering the school children's field trip? And since the Addisons receive a second kidnapping note at the dance, it's apparent that there's a spy within the confines of the "Atomic City," a critical point that's forgotten as the plot focuses on capturing Tommy's kidnappers.

Bert Freed later played Columbo.
Still, these are minor quibbles with a modest film that far exceeds expectations. The ensemble cast is convincing and contains many familiar faces in addition to Barry. It includes: Milburn Stone (Doc on Gunsmoke); Frank Cady (Sam Drucker on Green Acres); and Lee Aaker (Rusty on The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin). Bert Freed plays one of the bad guys. As discussed in a post earlier this year, Freed originated the role of Lt. Columbo in an episode of the Chevy Mystery Show with Richard Carlson as a murderous psychiatrist. Years later, that episode was revamped as the Columbo TV-movie Prescription: Murder--with Gene Barry in the Carlson role.

Sydney Boehm, who earned that Oscar nomination for writing The Atomic City, is probably best remembered for Fritz Lang's classic film noir The Big Heat. His other credits include When Worlds Collide, Union Station, and Violent Saturday.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Peter Falk's First Case as Columbo

Falk's first close-up as Columbo.
Upon suspecting that her psychiatrist husband left their anniversary party for a rendezvous with his mistress, Joan Flemming threatens to ruin him professionally and financially. Dr. Ray Flemming (Gene Barry) comes up with a convincing lie--he was planning a surprise second honeymoon in Mexico. Yet, the reality is that he has already plotted Joan's murder to the last detail. The following day, with an assist from his actress girlfriend, Flemming pulls off what he believes to be the perfect crime. The only problem is that the L.A. detective assigned to the case is Lieutenant Columbo.

Bert Freed was the first Columbo.
Prescription: Murder, a 1968 made-for-TV movie, marked Peter Falk's debut as the crafty Columbo. However, it was not the first appearance of the fictional sleuth created by Richard Levinson and William Link. Columbo--then known as Fisher--was featured in the short story "Dear Corpus Delicti," which was published in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine in 1960. That same year, Levinson and Link adapated their short story into "Enough Rope," an episode of the live drama anthology Chevy Mystery Show. Bert Freed played Columbo, who was a secondary character to the villainous Dr. Flemming (played by Richard Carlson).

A year later, Levinson and Link expanded "Enough Rope" into a stage play called Prescription: Murder. It starred Joseph Cotten as Flemming, Agnes Moorehead as his wife, and Thomas Mitchell as Columbo. Sadly, the play never made it to Broadway, in part because Thomas Mitchell died of cancer in 1962.

Levinson and Link, who met in junior high school, dusted off Prescription: Murder again in 1968--this time as a telefilm for NBC. They originally wanted Lee J. Cobb to play Columbo. When his schedule prevented him from taking the role, they offered it to Bing Crosby. When he also declined, the part went to Peter Falk. Levinson and Link initially worried that the 41-year-old Falk was too young to play Columbo (Mitchell was 70). However, once they saw his performance, they knew it was a perfect pairing of actor and role. 

Gene Barry as the murderer.
Considering that Columbo would eventually become a TV icon, it's somewhat surprising that he doesn't make his entrance until 32 minutes into Prescription: Murder. He introduces himself to Gene Barry's murderer as simply: "Lieutenant Columbo, police." Thus, it's up to Barry to carry the film's opening scenes and he's quite persuasive as the intelligent, egotistical Flemming. His simple, yet ingenious, murder plot relies on an axiom employed by Agatha Christie in her classic Hercule Poirot novel Lord Edgware Dies. Flemming explains it to his accomplice: "People see what they expect to see."

It takes Flemming most of the film to realize that he has underestimated his dogged pursuer. In the best scene, the two men discuss the murder in theoretical terms--though each knows exactly what happened. Flemming even offers a psychoanalysis of Columbo's tactic of masking his intelligence. At its best, Prescription: Murder is a two-character play--and I mean that as a compliment. William Windom, Nina Foch, and Katherine Justice are fine in supporting roles, but the crux of the film is the cat-and-mouse game between Columbo and Flemming.

Columbo: "There's just one more thing..."
Although Prescription: Murder is sometimes described as a pilot for a TV series, most sources claim that neither Falk nor Levinson and Link were interested in the grind of a weekly show. NBC addressed their concern in 1971 when it suggested a Columbo drama as part of its 90-minute umbrella series, The NBC Mystery Movie. Thus, instead of starring in 24 or more weekly hour shows, Falk had to commit to just seven 90-minute shows yearly.

Lee Grant as the first female killer.
However, before finalizing the deal, NBC asked for a pilot film that became Ransom for a Dead Man. It was telecast in March 1971, with the Columbo TV series debuting the following September. Ransom stars Lee Grant as a tough attorney who murders her husband--and then devises a fake kidnapping in order to liquidate his financial assets to pay a ransom. Columbo makes an earlier appearance this time (at the 12-minute mark). Although Grant was nominated for an Emmy, Ransom for a Dead Man lacks the bite that permeates Prescription: Murder--perhaps because Levinson and Link penned the story, but not the script.

Still, Ransom for a Dead Man was a ratings hit and the rest--as they say--is television history. Counting Prescription and Ransom, Peter Falk played Columbo in 68 telefilms or TV episodes over a span of 35 years.