Archive for Lloyd Nolan

Annie Laurie, Slight Reprise

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , on November 20, 2015 by dcairns


One night after being wowed by WILD RIVER, we sat down to A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN, Elia Kazan’s first feature. Ironically, the blue and golden light of the 1960 movie had caused me to erroneously deduce it to be photographed by Leon Shamroy, whereas ATGIB really IS shot by Shamroy, and by Kazan’s own account, the visual direction of the film is largely Shamroy’s — Kazan wasn’t technically confident at all, and so was encouraged to direct it like a play, with Shamroy figuring out how to cover it. The performances are superb, but I also wanted to compliment Kazan’s visuals, but I guess they’re Shamroy’s. (Lyle R. Wheeler’s production design is also remarkable — always a bit weird seeing huge Hollywood resources targeted at recreating poverty, and Kazan himself felt he failed to capture the real quality of slum life, which he knew well — the sets impart an epic scope which mitigates against the movie becoming depressing.)

Kazan confesses to manipulating tears from his young star, Peggy Ann Garner by discussing her father, who was in the air force, and subtly implying that he might never come back from the war. Later, when the scene required her to mourn her character’s dad, he just needed to reconnect her to that emotion, and it was unleashed. Then his producer ordered him to reshoot it because it was too raw, too mushy — filming her with her back to the camera resulted in a more discrete and affecting emotion. It’s very frequently true that the audience won’t engage with shocking displays of raw emotion — too much of the work is done for us and we can’t find space for our own reaction. I must say, my face was soaking by the end of this movie. It’s a movie with a free wash thrown in.

Kazan’s secret weapon is James Dunn as the drunken father, whose rendition of “Annie Laurie” was the only scene in the movie I knew. Kazan’s assistant Nick Ray, a lifelong alcoholic himself, spoke with immense admiration of the director’s patience in coaxing that performance out of a vulnerable man. Kazan chose Dunn because he WAS the character: once a promising star, his career had been wrecked by booze. The disappointment and sense of personal failure were written in his face. Rather cruelly, Kazan was making Dunn play himself, and making him confront his own inadequacies, but he also got from him his one really effective performance, and immortalized him.


Most people seeing this film have never seen Dunn in anything else, but because I love pre-codes I’d seen him in SAILOR’S LUCK, THE GIRL IN 419 and TAKE A CHANCE. My impression was always one of desperation, eagerness to please that shades into mania, anxiety trying to look like charm, flop sweat personified. All those qualities can now be acknowledged and used, which allows the actor’s real charm to emerge around the edges.

Also nice — Joan Blondell, of course, a pre-code performer who was always utterly relaxed and natural, Dorothy McGuire excellent in a challenging part, the underrated Lloyd Nolan… and it’s always nice when James Gleason drops the why-I-oughta schtick (which he was so good at) and plays a human being (see also NIGHT OF THE HUNTER).


“They should stop making films,” I said to Fiona afterwards, drying my soggy face. “After this, it’s all just noise.” I suppose I’ll get over that feeling — I have to, I’m making a film of my own — but when a film is this powerful, it puts a lot of stuff in the shade. Through a mix of blind ego and ignorance I’m able to make my little films and not worry about comparisons with the greats, most of the time, but once in a while I see something and think, “Well, I can’t even hope to touch that…”

Dibble, P.I.

Posted in FILM, Television with tags , , , , on December 1, 2009 by dcairns

The Michael Shayne, Private Eye films are good B-movie fun, with Lloyd Nolan, never really a front-running leading man, surprisingly appealing in these unpretentious little thrillers. The only thing distinguishing them from countless other detective movies, apart from a sprinkling of wit, are the facts that they’re if anything a little MORE generic than any other ‘tec movies, and the fact that they rejoice in the character’s Irish-American roots. So it seems fitting that Nolan’s detective license is signed by Irish-American character actor Allen Jenkins!

Okay, so it says Allan B Jenkins…

Lovers of Warner Bros precodes will likely know Allen well. Persons of my generation, kids during the 70s, may also know him as the voice of Officer Dibble on TV’s Top Cat. Incidentally, in a fit of madness, the BBC broadcast the show under the title “Boss Cat,” under the mistaken assumptions that (1) nobody in the UK was familiar with the expression “top dog,” upon which the Hanna-Barbera cartoon based its title (2) this mattered in the slightest and (3) nobody would notice that the theme tune of the show had LYRICS, which clearly included the words “Top” and “Cat.”

Dibble askew.

I’m still angry about that all these years later. I can’t let it go. This may offer some clue as to why I can be a tricky person to collaborate with creatively. As Buster Keaton said, “In this business, there’s a certain amount of guess. Has to be. So you try to convince yourself, maybe the other fellow’s right. But once in a while… ain’t no guess.”

Michael Shayne Mysteries Vol. 1 (Michael Shayne: Private Detective / The Man Who Wouldn’t Die / Sleepers West / Blue, White, and Perfect)