Veteran MacMurray & Newcomer Novak in ‘Pushover’ 1954

 

Veteran star Fred MacMurray & starlet Kim Novak in 1954's film noir, "Pushover."

The tale of an authority figure going bad for big bucks and a beautiful broad is nothing new. In its time, Pushover was a B+ movie with a veteran star who was a leading man for two decades, cast opposite a newcomer starlet with no acting experience. Luckily, Pushover had a strong story taken from two novels, a snappy, adult script and direction, and those stars happened to be Fred MacMurray and Kim Novak. MacMurray was in the process from going from leading man to character roles to future family star via Disney and sitcom My Three Sons. Novak went from minor model to major film star with the release of Pushover. A sleeper hit at the time, Pushover is considered by many a noir classic today.

Note how Kim Novak's outfit and makeup differ in this p.r. photo
than the actual scene depicted at the top from 1954's "Pushover."

Richard Quine directed this crime noir tautly and stylishly. He went from acting to directing about this time, and got praise for handling another B+ film noir with a veteran star: Ride a Crooked Mile with Mickey Rooney. After Pushover, he surprisingly went on to direct mostly romantic comedies. Quine began a professional and occasionally personal association with Kim, and handled her quite well as an actress. Kim was a model with two film credits as an extra to her resume. He worked with her strengths, which was her beauty, sensuality, and vulnerability, which pretty much remained her calling card as an actress. 

Kim Novak spends much screen time silently as Lona McLane in 1954's "Pushover."

Kim Novak, like the later Tippi Hedren, became a star before she developed skills as an actress. Director Quine gave her as little dialogue as possible, photographing her viewed by cops through binoculars, or silently driving in the night, and gazing at herself in mirrors. From the get-go, Kim's first role as Lona McLane was as an object of desire, which Hitchcock utilized best four years in Vertigo. In less voyeuristic ways, Kim was the pretty prize in her breakout star role in Picnic, Jeanne Eagels, Strangers When We Meet, and even her final big movie, The Legend of Lylah Clare. Novak was on the eve of turning 21 during filming of Pushover. Kim is slim, yet curvy and very pretty, though stuck with studio assembly line makeup and hair that make her look a bit tarty—however, it fit the role. Soon after, she'd get the big studio makeover. Despite her trance-like performance, Kim elicits empathy as she goes from a kept woman who schemes to get her bank robber boyfriend’s loot, to a woman who genuinely cares about a crooked cop, played by Fred MacMurray.

Fred MacMurray looked frankly midde-aged as dirty cop Paul Sheridan
in 1954's "Pushover."

Most actors wouldn't want to be cast as middle-aged, even if they actually were. But Fred MacMurray plays the role of Paul Sheridan with no script or visual camouflage. His veteran cop is a bitter about his lot in life, compared to his younger partner, played by Phil Carey. Paul wants to get his hands on the bank robber’s cash stash. MacMurray is photographed jowls and all in his mid-40s, compared to 25 years younger Novak, who get the lovely close-ups. Fred's dirty cop first plays Kim's kept girl, only to fall in love with her. Later, you find out the feeling is gradually mutual from Lona. MacMurray plays basically an older version of his character from Double Indemnity, but more realistically than his previous cad. I never found Fred the most exciting actor in the world, but always thought him more interesting as the bad guy.

Before he was soap bad guy Asa Buchanan, Philip Carey was a good & good-looking
 cop partner in 1954's "Pushover."

As for Philip Carey as McAllister, I wonder why he didn't become a big, mid-century movie star. He was talented, masculine, charismatic, and good-looking. I can think of a number of young actors from the late '40s and early '50s who were given the leading man treatment, but ended up character actors because audiences weren't buying. Carey always worked, but often in westerns and TV guest shots. Much later, Carey became a star, as daytime's version of J.R. Ewing, Asa Buchanan on One Life to Live.

Before Dorothy Malone went platinum, she was the nice nurse next door to sex bomb
 Kim Novak in 1954's "Pushover." With nice cop Phil Carey!

Dorothy Malone, who had been kicking around Hollywood for a decade, as opposed to Kim's instant rise, played the brunette neighbor nurse of Novak’s kept woman. A decade older than Novak, Malone makes the most of her second female lead. It's also amusing that Carey’s good cop is peeping on her Ann Stewart, while bad cop MacMurray is peeping on Novak’s Lona. An easy way to change a golden era actress' image was to dye her hair. Lana and Marilyn's careers took off once they went platinum, and Joan Bennett got a new career by going brunette. This was Malone's last role as with dark hair. She went platinum for 1955's Young at Heart. Her career took off, winning an Oscar for her bad girl in Written on the Wind. 

Like Marilyn Monroe, Kim Novak didn't have much use for bras, either!
With Fred MacMurray as the cop who falls for her, in 1954's "Pushover."

One thing that surprised me was how much got past the censors in Pushover. The production code was starting to erode, but still very much in place. But some of the double entendre dialogue, ala Double Indemnity, is not very subtle. Plus, Kim is obviously bra-less in several outfits, on which the camera lingers. Both Novak and Malone's characters get some fresh attention directed at them, rather blatantly. Not that I'm complaining! I roll my eyes at old movies where prostitutes had to be called hostesses or models, but it’s just surprising here.

Who's playin' who? In film noir, it can be hard to tell! Fred MacMurray & Kim Novak
 in 1954's crime drama, "Pushover."

The bottom line with 1954’s Pushover is that while it's nothing new, it was filmed and performed in fine noir style. The story is told in a very adult way for its time, which is one of the reasons it still holds up. Another reason Pushover still appeals is it’s the first time audiences got to see Kim Novak on film.

Kim Novak's last close-up as the bad girl gone good, in 1954's "Pushover."

Here’s an excellent adult soap, starring Kim Novak and Kirk Douglas, directed by Richard Quine: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2019/02/kim-kirk-team-for-suburban-soap-opera.html

 

 

 

‘Fate is the Hunter’ 1964

Suzanne Pleshette is a stewardess and lone survivor of a plane crash, Glenn Ford is the meticulous investigator, in 'Fate is the Hunter.'

While Fate is the Hunter is no classic, I'm surprised that the airplane drama received poor reviews and crashed at the box office in ’64. A shame, since Fate is an engrossing flick which spins the “Grand Hotel in the sky” genre. 

'Fate' derives its drama from the aftermath of a plane crash, unlike most airplane epics.

Instead of drama caused during a perilous flight, Fate is the Hunter tells, in Citizen Kane-style flashback, from its characters, their recollections of a flight captain whose plane has crashed. The investigator hero tries to get at the truth and restore the reputation of his war buddy, which may not be the same thing, according to his naysayers. 

Glenn Ford's Sam McBane retraces the last day of pilot Jack Savage's life,
right through to the plane crash, with traumatized stewardess Suzanne Pleshette.

Fate is the Hunter is definitely escapist entertainment: the story is clever, cast is solid, and cinematography and score are beautiful. Yes, it follows the tropes of the genre. Yes, the movie appears to be filmed on a B+ budget. And yes, the characters are archetypes or stereotypes, depending on your love of old movies. But it is briskly told, with several strong performances, and Fate works just fine within its conventions. At an hour and forty five minutes, Fate’s flight time is much more efficient than Airport or The High and the Mighty, two smash hits of the genre. 

Despite the lack of big special effects, the build-up to the crash and the aftermath are intense.

Glenn Ford has never been one of my favorite actors, especially as he grew older. He seemed solid at best, stolid at worst. Yet, Ford has done some good work, and he's especially effective here. As Sam McBane, the man investigating the crash, he is a perfectionist and a believer in facts. Yet he's emotionally conflicted, as he is both investigating and defending the character of his best friend. Sam gradually finds out that he knows more about science than he does his best friend. Ford has several emotional scenes that seem very uncharacteristic for his acting style. Yet, he plays them earnestly and effectively. And unlike other actors of the era, he's not macho, but empathetic. 

Glenn Ford is an empathetic hero who is trying to resolve what went wrong with the plane that best pal Rod Taylor was flying that fateful night.

 

Rod Taylor, on the other hand, is an actor I always liked and think was underrated in his heyday. However, as the playboy pilot Jack Savage, he's over the top at times, in playing this big personality. At times, you wonder why anyone could find someone so insufferable so irresistible. Even when you find out "the rest of the story," as Paul Harvey would say, Rod as Jack is still too much. But Taylor does have his more subtle scenes, especially with Nancy Kwan.  Everyone else in this movie comes and goes, as they are parts of this charismatic character's life. Nancy Kwan is his last love, and gives Sam some food for thought on how to view the case. Kwan plays a scientist and it's great that she gets to do so in a non-sexist way. She is no "lady scientist." Her Sally Fraser may be stunningly lovely, but she is a strong, wise person. And Kwan plays her simply and strikingly.

Rod Taylor is the late pilot whose rep is on the line. Here is the captain in a flashback,
with Nancy Kwan, as the scientist who sees the real Jack Savage.

Constance Towers plays Sam's loyal assistant and love interest, Peg Burke. Powers, who made a big splash in Sam Fuller's pulp films about this time, has such a bland role here, though her presence and intelligence are evident.

An unbilled Dorothy Malone plays Jack's ex-fiancee, a rich heiress who seems like a tamer version of Malone's mambo loving party girl in Written on the Wind. She sure knows how to milk her few moments on screen, with those wide eyes and energetic eyebrows working overtime!

Dorothy Malone makes an unbilled cameo appearance with Marilyn Monroe's "Happy Birthday, Mr. President" hairdo!

And Suzanne Pleshette is Martha Webster, the stewardess on the ill-fated plane. Pleshette is essentially in the beginning and end of the movie, but her striking looks, great humor, and no-nonsense acting are always refreshing. Suzanne had that quality which Ann Sheridan also possessed. Most of Pleshette’s scenes are with Taylor and Ford, and she holds her own against the leading men. 

Suzanne Pleshette as no-nonsense stew Martha Webster, looking lovely here.

While it's not an all-star cast, Ford was number #1 at the box office in ‘58, and Malone was still coasting on her '57 Oscar win. The younger cast—with Taylor, Pleshette, Kwan, and Towers—were considered strong up and comers. And the supporting cast had a bevy of familiar faces. Wally Cox is a standout with his memory of the real Jack, along with Mary Wickes as the pilot’s nosy landlady, and a strong performance by Mark Stevens as Jack’s drinking buddy. As a favor to the producer, Jane Russell appears in a WWII USO show flashback as herself. Frankly, I’ve never cared for Russell’s rudimentary singing and dancing, but Jane’s good humor still comes across. Maybe Fate just seemed like another old fashioned movie at the time? Hard to say!

Jane Russell as herself, performing 'for the boys,' like she did 20 years earlier in real life.

PS about the cast: Why was Rod Taylor made up to look older in the current scenes, while his war buddy, Glenn Ford looks the same in both present day and flashback? Ford was 16 years older than Taylor, and quite honestly, looked it. Were they trying to even things out in the present day scenes?

Ralph Nelson, who specialized in smaller, realistic movies like Lilies of the Field, directed. It’s notable that the way women and two black characters are treated was forward-thinking. The prolific Jerry Goldsmith created one of his first film scores here, and it’s lovely. Milton Krasner got the film’s sole Oscar nomination for his almost noir-like cinematography.

Secret's in the sauce! That's a subtle hint, as Glenn's investigator recreates the fateful flight.

This is one of those movies that plays well within its genre and is fun to curl up with, when you're in the mood for something entertaining, with familiar faces you’re fond of.

Here’s more on Suzanne Pleshette!

My tribute to Suzanne, a childhood favorite: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2016/07/suzanne-pleshette-next-liz-taylor-who.html

My review of Youngblood Hawke: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2019/07/writing-women-dont-mix-for-youngblood.html

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

 

Here's a sweet set shot of Rod Taylor, Jane Russell, and Glenn Ford!

 

Written on the Wind: Soapy & Subversive 1956

This 'Written on the Wind' poster looks like a Confidential Magazine cover!

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page.

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

What more can I write about Written on the Wind? So much has already been said about the films of director Douglas Sirk. The super soap opera about superrich Texans was a big hit in 1956 and a cult favorite to boot. What gives Written on the Wind staying power is Sirk’s subtle critique on post-war America and strikingly visual storytelling style.

The color scheme of this hotel , with which Stack's Kyle tries to impress Bacall's Lucy, must be think pink! Rock Hudson as Mitch on left.

Sirk is the model of storytelling economy, epitomized in the opening credits of Written on the Wind. Over the sweet sounds of The Four Aces, the story is succinctly set up: Rich boy Kyle Hadley is drunk and racing his sports car back home, for a showdown with his best friend, Mitch Wayne, who booted him out. Roaring into the driveway, he smashes his bottle against the brick mansion. Waking the servants, alerting his sleazy sister, Mary Lee Hadley, long-suffering wife Lucy, and pal Mitch, the plastered prodigal son has returned. Door left wide open, Kyle lumbers into the library. His sister flits down the staircase and follows. From outside, a gunshot is heard, Kyle Hadley staggers out, and collapses in the driveway. The camera cuts to his bedroom, where his wife faints, and a calendar’s pages fall back to the story’s beginning. All this in just three minutes and six seconds!

Universal's Sirk du Soleil, Texas style!

Douglas Sirk’s postwar films are the ones on which his reputation rests. On their surface, Sirk’s cinema seems over-the-top glamorous, slickly soapy, and artificially emoted. Audiences then and even now take such films as Magnificent Obsession, All that Heaven Allows, and Imitation of Life at face value, as guilty pleasure wallows. Others have deconstructed the work of Douglas Sirk, for what lies beneath his glossy facades, sometimes to the point of absurdity.

Malone as Mary Lee, seeking comfort with a miniature oil derrick ?

Still, moviegoers today easily see that there is more than meets the eye to Sirk’s ‘50s films. I’ll never forget watching Written on the Wind with my folks and its infamous finale—the rich sister all alone, caressing her father’s miniature oil derrick—Mom and Dad burst into laughter. Sirk took the disadvantages of censorship and confining studio system film making and worked it to his advantage. Social and sexual issues were played out in the guise of a soap opera: The older woman-younger man relationship of All That Heaven Allows; the disillusioned breadwinner of There’s Always Tomorrow; the hedonistic playboy in Magnificent Obsession, or the racial issues of Imitation of Life. Written on the Wind tackles unchecked wealth and power, sexuality and sterility.

Mary Lee Hadley kicks up her heels in the mambo of death!

Some of the cited examples of Sirk’s genius can be a bit of a reach. One such claim is that Written on the Wind’s visuals were deliberately and blatantly artificial. To me, Wind doesn’t look any different than other ‘50s films. Rear projection, matte scenery, backlot outdoor sets, and interior sets were all standard issue then. Sirk skillfully used the devices in his films, heightened with his expressive lighting and camera angles. 

Rock Hudson in leading man mode as Mitch Wayne.

Written on the Wind is twice is soap, in half the time, as Giant, George Stevens’ take on Texas, also came out at the end of ‘56. The two epics have interesting parallels. Rock played steady Eddie Bick Benedict in Giant to James Dean’s Jett Rink, the wildcatter who cracks up. In Written on the Wind, Hudson’s Mitch is a strait-laced version of Jett, the outsider looking in. And Robert Stack’s dissolute rich jerk Kyle is how Jett Rink ends up in Giant.

Who's truly the odd man out here? 

Since the release of Written on the Wind, many film critics, fans, and historians criticized Rock Hudson and Lauren Bacall as boring, while praising Robert Stack and Dorothy Malone for their showy performances. I beg to differ. If all four stars had engaged such scenery chewing, the Hadleys’ mansion would have been reduced to rubble. Somebody had to be the straight man—ironically, that fell to Rock Hudson. As Mitch Wayne, Rock meets the pre-requisites for a top tier leading man: Hudson is at his handsomest, along with his warm personality, intelligence, and one of the best speaking voices of his movie generation. Robert Stack, who had the killer role of Kyle, later praised Hudson for not pulling rank as the star and ordering Stack’s star-making role reduced. Frankly, I think Rock might have played the rich boy better than stone-faced Stack.

Lauren Bacall as Lucy, pondering her future as wife of a rich playboy. 

Instead of playing her usual snarky tough cookie here, Lauren Bacall is Lucy, the leading lady—which I found a refreshing change of pace. Watching Bacall, chic in a grey suit during the film’s NYC scenes, I thought it a shame Alfred Hitchcock never gave Betty Bacall the nod as one of his famed blondes. Naturally, not the fragile ones of Vertigo or Marnie, but Bacall would have been the bomb in North by Northwest with Cary Grant. My sister, when watching Hollywood movies from the ‘50s and early ‘60s, has commented how matronly the shellacked hairdos and cartoonish makeup makes the leading ladies look. In Written on the Wind, Lauren Bacall sports stylish hair and makeup, but it’s subtle, and she rarely looked better onscreen after her sexy starlet days. Lauren Bacall brings her usual pragmatic personality to Lucy, but it is tempered with warmth, something that wasn’t always present in her screen roles.

Kyle's sister snarks about his 'electric personality.' Stack's serial killer stare doesn't help!

I’m not the first to point this out, but the big problem with Written on the Wind is why anyone would put up with Kyle Hadley for a New York minute. As the poor little rich boy given to grand gestures, he flies from Texas to the Big Apple for lunch. This is where Robert Stack’s Kyle meets Bacall’s Lucy, snagging her away from Hudson’s Mitch. Kyle is drinking and showboating, which puts Lucy off. She attempts to get away from him, but the rich kid reveals his real self, which makes the city girl view him in a different light. The problem is Kyle, as written and performed, does not inspire awe or sympathy. Kyle is either drunk and obnoxious or sober and morose. I grew up watching Robert Stack sporting a trench coat and acting like a dull detective in Unsolved Mysteries. Stack was a grade B Charlton Heston, deadpan sneer and broadcasting boom of a voice. Robert Stack gives his all as the lost soul playboy, but that’s not saying much. He does have his moments. One that I found affecting is when wife Lucy tries to find out why Kyle is back on the bottle, after a year of sobriety. When Kyle feels he’s failing Lucy as a husband, Sirk cleverly makes sterility Kyle’s issue, though a probable closet case might be closer to the truth. Sitting at his bedside the morning after, she asks, “Do you love me?” Stack as Kyle replies, “I don’t even love myself.” With that, he rolls over and pulls the covers over his head—a stunning moment for a he-man actor in a ‘50s movie.

Just exactly what is Kyle's problem? In a Sirk movie, read between the lines!

Like Robert Stack, Dorothy Malone spent over a decade paying her showbiz dues. As Mary Lee Hadley in Written on the Wind, Malone plays the “nymphomaniac” rich girl who pines for Hudson’s Mitch, a childhood friend to both her and the brother. She resents Kyle for “taking away” Mitch as they grew up. 

What would a Douglas Sirk movie be without a mirror scene? Sisters-in-law Malone and Bacall having a catty reflection convo.

As Mary Lee, Dorothy Malone cashes in on her showy role and pulls out all the stops. Whether taunting her family, picking up men in dive bars, getting the dirt on others, or dancing with deadly abandon, Malone is all sexy moves and mugging. Unlike stone-faced Stack, Malone was an expressive actress who could be just as stunning when she took it down a few notches. Her scenes of expressing her unwavering love for Mitch are touching. The big courtroom scene, with Malone as Mary Lee in a big black hat, gives Stack’s Kyle a moving epitaph: “He was sad, the saddest of us all. He needed so much and had so little.”

Dorothy Malone in her big courtroom scene, in mourning black, top with a HUGE hat!

Douglas Sirk suddenly retired after his biggest hit, 1959’s Imitation of Life. I wonder how Sirk would have fared in the ‘60s, when realism in film quickly became the norm. My guess is that had Sirk stayed in Hollywood, he would have struggled much like Hitchcock, who found his similarly stylized storytelling obsolete by the middle of that decade. Still, Hollywood was cranking out glossy soap operas well into the 1960s. Some featured past Sirk collaborators like producer Ross Hunter and aging star Lana Turner. For those who think Douglas Sirk overrated, compare Imitation of Life to Ross and Lana’s Madame X. Or compare Sirk’s work to director Delmer Daves, who picked up the soap mantle when the veteran director retired—Magnificent Obsession or Youngblood Hawke? And all those sexy ‘60s soaps with Liz Taylor, Carroll Baker, Ann-Margret, etc. offer none of the emotional impact for their stars or audiences. Douglas Sirk was obviously doing something more than blowing cinematic soap bubbles.

High octane melodrama: Note the monogram on Mary Lee Hadley's Caddy car door.