Showing posts with label john dall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label john dall. Show all posts

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Gun Crazy: Lovers That Go Together Like Guns and Ammunition

Peggy Cummins takes aim!
A film noir with a tragic love story involving the femme fatale and a gun-obsessed guy?

That's the unlikely premise of Gun Crazy, a 1950 "B" picture selected by the Library of Congress for inclusion in the National Film Registry in 1998. Although it made little noise when first released, it developed a quick cult reputation. By the 1960s, Gun Crazy was being hailed by noted critics and filmmakers, such as Francois Truffaut who famously recommended that Robert Benton and David Newman watch it. That duo was working on a script that would become Bonnie and Clyde--another landmark film often compared to Gun Crazy.

The opening scene is a stunner as fourteen-year-old Bart Tare (Russ Tamblyn) stands in the pouring rain on a neon-lit street and looks longingly at a handgun in a store window. He breaks the window with a brick and steals the gun and some ammunition. As he's running away, Bart falls down in a puddle and drops the gun, which slides over in front of the sheriff's feet.

John Dall as the adult Bart.
Bart's older sister tries to convince a judge that Bart is a good boy. She explains that he has always been fascinated by guns, but has killed nothing since he shot a chick at age 7 with a BB rifle. Despite her pleadings, the judge expresses concern with Bart's obsession with guns and sentences him to reform school.

When we next meet Bart (John Dall), he has returned home from serving as a marksmanship instructor in the Army. His pals take him to the carnival, where he witnesses a sharp-shooting display from Annie Laurie Starr (Peggy Cummins), one of the sideshow acts. Their "meet cute" sizzles with an undercurrent of sexual attraction, so rather than describe it, here's the scene (courtesy of the Cafe's YouTube channel):



Bart joins the carnival at Laurie's suggestion, though the situation creates a rivalry with Packett, the carny manager and Laurie's jealous boyfriend. Packett eventually confronts Laurie and threatens to tell Bart about the man she killed in St. Louis. Her response provides the first glimpse of her true nature: "You're going to hold that over my head for the rest of my life, aren't you?" Packett fires Annie and Bart, who hit the road and get married.

Post-honeymoon problems.
They live blissfully until Bart's savings run out. When Bart suggests that he get a job at Remington for $40 a week, Laurie confides that "she wants to do a little living" and "wants things...a lot of things." Threatening to leave him, Laurie convinces Bart to participate in an armed robbery--which signals the start of their fatalistic downfall.

Gun Crazy is an impeccably crafted film that benefits from two dazzling performances, deft direction, and a razor-sharp screenplay. John Dall, whom we have profiled in this blog, was an underrated actor who deserved better roles. He certainly got a juicy one in Gun Crazy and delivers as the reluctant robber who loves only two things in life: Laurie and guns.

The more surprising portrayal comes from Peggy Cummins, who is best remembered for romantic comedies (Always a Bride) and for playing the vanilla heroine in the later Curse of the Demon (1958). She exudes sexual energy with Dall while coming across as a cold, manipulative killer. But here's the beauty of her performance: Despite Laurie's bad girl persona and many faults, Cummins convinces the audience that her character truly loves Bart. It's a blessing that director Joseph H. Lewis was unsuccessful in casting his first choice for the role: Veronica Lake.

Laurie provides a distraction for the robbery.
Lewis was a journeyman director with a resume that included some interesting "B" movies (My Name is Julia Ross and So Dark the Night). But none of his work comes close to the innovative style employed in Gun Crazy. The film's highlight is a three-and-half minute bank robbery shot in a single take from the inside of the getaway car. The climax is almost as mesmerizing with Laurie and Bart hiding out in a fog-enshrouded swamp as they listen to their pursuers' footsteps in the water. Finally, I love how Lewis subtlety pushes the bounds of the production code by finding provocative ways to photograph Laurie (e.g., when she does a trick shot by bending down and shooting between her legs).

The lovers surrounded by fog.
As for the screenplay, it was credited to MacKinlay Kantor, whose original story appeared in The Saturday Evening Post, and Millard Kaufman. In the 1990s, Kaufman, who penned such classics as Bad Day at Black Rock, admitted he did not co-write Gun Crazy. He acted as a "front" for Dalton Trumbo, who was blacklisted at the time as one of the Hollywood Ten. Personally, I think the screenplay for Gun Crazy is one of the most quotable in all film noir, as evidenced by this passage delivered by Laurie prior to her wedding: "Bart, I've never been much good, at least up until now I haven't. You aren't getting any bargain. But I have a funny feeling I want to be good. I don't know...maybe I can't. But I'm going to try. I'll try hard, Bart. I'll try."

Laurie wants to be good.
Still, it's not just the dialogue that makes the Gun Crazy screenplay so compelling. The main characters, each destined for tragedy from the beginning, are what drive the film. Bart's love for Laurie is just as obsessive as his love for guns. As a youth, he couldn't stop himself from stealing the gun in the store window. As an adult, he can't stop himself from doing whatever is required to keep Laurie. In both instances, though, Bart overcomes his obsession when it comes to killing. It's the one thing he won't do for her. In the end, that's what separates Bart from her. Having been "kicked around," Laurie is willing to do anything--even commit murder--to get the things she thinks she deserves.

Gun Crazy is required viewing for any film noir fan. Film noir expert Eddie Mueller ranks it #18 on his list of the Top 25 Noir Films and calls it "the most exciting, dynamic and influential Noir movie ever made." The British Film Institute published a 96-page book devoted solely to it. Even the original movie poster, now valued at up to $2800, has its passionate admirers. So if you haven't seen Gun Crazy, what are you waiting for?


This review is part of the Femme Fatales of Film Noir Blogathon hosted by the Classic Movie Blog Association. We encourage you to check out the other films in this blogathon by clicking here.

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Five Hunks Who Coulda Been Stars!

Earlier this week, we profiled five lovely actresses who certainly had the looks to become major stars (click here to read that post). While some of them had solid careers, stardom eluded them. Sometimes, it's simply a matter of timing in the film business. Today, we turn our sights to five handsome actors who seemed destined for bigger things, but never quite made it.

Grant Williams. Best known for his first-rate performance in the sci fi classic The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957), Williams seemed to be on the cusp of stardom in the 1950s. He signed with Warner Bros. in 1960 and became relegated to supporting roles in films like Susan Slade (he played Susan's mountain-climbing lover Conn White). Even worse, he was cast in the 1959-63 TV series Hawaiian Eye midway through its run. The overexposure did not help his screen career; his last major film role was in PT 109, in which he was listed fifth in the cast. Through the rest of the 1960s, he guest starred in TV series such as Perry Mason and Bonanza. His last screen appearance was in the low-budget sci fi film Brain of Blood. Williams, who had studied acting with Lee Strasberg, subsequently opened a drama school. He died at age 53 of peritonitis, an inflammation of the abdomen wall.

Tom Conway. With a debonair disposition and distinctive voice, Tom Conway seemed poised to follow his brother's path from "B" films to major motion pictures. But whereas his sibling, George Sanders, crafted a memorable career as a supporting player and occasional lead, Conway languished in low-budget mysteries and horror films. Some of his 1940s "B" films were first-rate, specifically The Falcon and the Co-eds and his three Val Lewton movies. Unfortunately, good roles became scarce in the 1950s and his career took a downturn. Alcholism took its toll in the 1960s and a newspaper article revealed that Conway was practically broke and living in a cheap flophouse. He died in 1967, at age 62, from cirrhosis of the liver.

Gardner McKay. After a short stint in a TV Western called Boots and Saddles, Gardner McKay was cast in Adventures in Paradise, a 1959-62 television series based on the works of James A Michener. He became an instant TV heartthrob and was sought after for film roles when the series ended. He turned down a chance to star opposite Marilyn Monroe in Something's Got to Give. Indeed, post-Paradise, McKay appeared in only two movies before retiring from acting. One of those films was The Pleasure Seekers, a pleasant remake of Three Coins in the Fountain, which highlighted his easygoing charm. McKay became a sculptor, novelist, and playwright. His art work has been displayed at the Museum of Modern Art and he won the L.A. Drama Critics' Circle Award for his play Sea Marks. He died of prostate cancer at age 69.

John Dall. He earned an Oscar nomination opposite Bette Davis for The Corn Is Green, had a major role in Hitchcock's Rope, and starred in a famous cult film (Gun Crazy). And yet, John Dall never achieved stardom and, in fact, appeared in only eight films during a 15-year acting career. That would lead one to assume that he focused on a stage career, but he only appeared in four Broadway plays. His biggest stage success was in Dear Ruth. He played the role of Lieutenant William Seawright in the original 1944 production for 680 performances--only to see the 1947 film role go to William Holden.

George Maharis. For those that question the handsome Maharis' acting ability, I recommend that you watch the first two seasons of Route 66. Maharis had the best role of his career as the street-smart, passionate Buz Murdock and shined in episodes like "Birdcage on My Foot" (which co-starred Robert Duvall as a drug addict trying to go "cold turkey"). Maharis abruptly left Route 66 during its third season, with the reasons varying as to why. Except for the tense thriller The Satan Bug (1965), his film choices were poor and he returned to television for the short-lived 1970 TV series The Most Deadly Game. He was arrested for "sexual perversion" in 1974, though he continued to act on television after that. His last film appearance was in 1993. He lives in Beverly Hills and New York City and creates impressionist paintings.

Friday, February 4, 2011

John Dall is the Cafe's Underrated Performer of the Month

He received an Oscar nomination opposite Bette Davis, played a key role in a Hitchcock picture, and starred in a famous cult film. And yet, John Dall never achieved stardom and, in fact, appeared in only eight films during a 15-year acting career.

Born John Jenner Thompson in New York City in 1918, he studied acting at the Theodora Irvine School of the Theatre, whose alumni include Anne Baxter, Marsha Hunt, and Cornel Wilde. (Note: The school is erroneously listed as Theodore Irvine in some sources; it's also known as the Theodora Irvine Studio of the Theatre and the Theodora Irvine Drama School).

Dall made his Broadway debut in 1941 and got his first lead role in Dear Ruth, which ran from 1944 to 1946. When Paramount made the play into a 1947 film, William Holden was cast in Dall's Broadway role as Lieutenant William Seacroft.

Dall with Bette Davis in The
Corn is Green.
In the meantime, Warner Bros. signed Dall for The Corn Is Green, which starred Bette Davis as a schoolteacher in a small Welsh mining town in 1895. Dall plays Morgan Evans, a young man in whom Davis' Miss Moffat sees the potential to earn a college degree. Dall earned a Best Supporting Actor nomination for his performance, but lost the Oscar to James Dunn for A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

Dall's follow-up was Something in the Wind, a Deanna Durbin musical in which he played the romantic leading man. He got a juicier part as a Civil War veteran in Another Part of the Forest, Lillian Hellman's prequel to The Little Foxes. Dall's star seemed to be on the rise when he was offered Rope in 1948.

He and Farley Granger played
murderers in Hitchcock's Rope.
Rope was based on a 1929 play, which was inspired by the chilling Loeb-Leopold "thrill murder" of 1924. Dall and Farley Granger played a pair of upper-class intellectuals who believe they can commit the perfect murder--and then host a dinner party with the corpse hidden in a trunk. With Hitchcock at the helm and James Stewart as the star, Rope has all the makings of a big hit--but it was a boxoffice disappointment. It has since become required viewing for film buffs due to Hitchcock's self-confessed "stunt" of using ten-minute takes to make the film look like one continuous shot.

Rope marked the end of Dall's Hollywood career. After a two-year hiatus, he appeared in the "B" film Deadly Is the Female (better known by its alternate title Gun Crazy). Dall stars as a young man fascinated with guns from childhood. When he meets Annie Laurie Starr (Peggy Cummins), a carnival sharpshooter, it's love at first sight. The only problem is that Annie's desire to lead the good life leads to a crime spree that leaves a few dead bodies in its wake. As the doomed lovers, Dall and Cummins generated plenty of sparks, but Gun Crazy flopped. It would take a couple of decades for it to be recognized as a classic film noir.

Dall and Peggy Cummins play newlyweds
pondering a life of crime in Gun Crazy.

Sadly, Dall's career stalled after Gun Crazy. He made just three more films: The Man Who Cheated Himself (1950); Spartacus (1960); and Atlantis, the Lost Continent (1961). On Broadway, he starred in a revival of The Heiress in 1950 and the farce Champage Complex in 1955, although neither play lasted for longer than a month. He guest-starred on television sporadically, including four appearances on Perry Mason with Raymond Burr.

By 1965, his acting career was over. He died seven years later, age 52, from either a punctured lung or a heart attack (the accounts vary).

A talented actor with good looks, Dall seemed destined to become a star. Instead, he leaves us with three memorable performances and a reminder that acting is a fickle business where success can often be attributed to being in the right movies at the right time.