Archive for Mabel Paige

Here Comes Mr. Lucky Jordan

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 7, 2016 by dcairns


LUCKY JORDAN is an entertaining wartime comedy-thriller starring Alan Ladd and directed by the sometimes-excellent Frank Tuttle. It’s on a similar pattern to the later MR. LUCKY, which starred Cary Grant, a considerably more charming rogue than Laddie. But it has a nice, indirect approach to its propaganda message — Ladd plays Jordan, a gangster who wants to avoid the draft (War is Bad for Business) and, having failed to do so, goes AWOL and becomes involved in a plot to sell military secrets to the enemy. It becomes apparent to anyone who’s seen a few movies that Jordan is due for a Damascene conversion after which he will do his patriotic duty, but the movie makes us wait, and wait, well aware that a character doing all the WRONG things is more entertaining than some noble paragon. It just about overcomes the central difficulty, which is that Jordan is a bit TOO loathsome, and Ladd doesn’t have the right kind of charisma to make us enjoy this.

Amusingly, even at the end of the story, supposedly reformed, Jordan is still all in favour of flat-out murdering all his opponents.


The script is persistently witty, in ways that are often surprising, and the more Ladd plays it straight the more effective it is. There’s also one extremely striking set, Jordan’s office, courtesy of Hans Dreier and Ernst Fegté, and strong support. Mabel Paige plays an old souse roped in to masquerade as Jordan’s mother, who gets caught up in the role, method-style, and pleasing villainy is supplied by Miles Mander, dastardly rake-thin fifth columnist (no column that slender could provide reliable structural support), and John Wengraf, distinguished Nazi creep.


Fiona and I were mainly drawn by the presence of baby-faced Helen Walker, supporting attraction of Shadowplay favourite CLUNY BROWN (“the Honorable Betty Cream” who “sits a horse well” and “doesn’t go everywhere”). Her career — and life — suffered a terrible blow in 1946 when she picked up three hitchhiking soldiers and then crashed her car, killing one of them. The surviving veterans accused her of having been drunk, and speeding. It’s kind of miraculous that she had any kind of career at all after that — she lost one major role she’d been set to play, and took on darker material (NIGHTMARE ALLEY, THE BIG COMBO, both memorable) since her bright and cheerful image had been irrevocably tainted.

LUCKY JORDAN was her debut, and she’s delightful in it, but the scenes riding in a car with a uniformed Ladd are a little uncomfortable, foreboding, in the light of what was to happen to her.

Meet the Fleagles; or, Luminous Gravy

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 16, 2010 by dcairns

Sorry, I forgot who recommended MURDER, HE SAYS — it was a good call, though, this was very enjoyable.

Never had a real handle on George Marshall as a director, his looong career having taken in just about every kind of entertainment, including another spooky house comedy, THE GHOST BREAKERS, which he explicitly, and I mean EXPLICITLY, references in this one (Fred MacMurray: “Did you ever see that movie, The Ghost Breakers?”) But he was clearly a guy with plenty of chops: apart from all the bizarre material crammed into this flick, which would have been entertaining in an eye-popping kind of way no matter who’d been in charge, there’s a farce sequence in a dark cellar with characters near-missing and mistaking each other which is really superb — on the page I bet it looked impossible.

Fred MacMurray (a little over-the-top but still likable — admits to being a sax player, too) is another Marshall, Pete Marshall, a census-taker who hasn’t heard the likely fate of such persons when they meet serial killers… Running into the psychotic redneck Fleagle family (a name I had previously only encountered by way of television’s The Banana Splits)  he becomes involved in a search for buried loot in an environment that seems to anticipate certain aspects of THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE. There’s also polonium-like poison being splashed about, causing various characters to glow in the dark, resulting in some striking visuals. Thanks to a good script and Marshall’s deft control, a movie that could have been as irksome as SHIT! THE OCTOPUS becomes a minor gem.

But why CAN’T I have a glow-in-the-dark Mabel Paige of my own?

Also worthy of note — Porter Hall, the man who can do anything, playing a weaselly bogus intellectual who has “dabbled in phrenology, psychology and the science of hyper-physical manifestation”;  Mabel Paige as the rootin’ tootin’ grandma (and it’s hard for me to believe that mere months ago I was unaware that there WAS a Mabel Paige — today I am scarcely aware there’s anyone else); Jean Heather (Lola from DOUBLE INDEMNITY) as the sweetly simple Elany (somebody get her a date with Boo Radley); and leading lady Helen Walker, who we always call “The Honorable Betty Cream.” She takes a while to show up, though, causing Fiona to protest, “Oh, when is The Honorable Betty Cream going to appear? It’s like waiting for Groucho!”

Worth it.

Un Moose Andalou

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 14, 2010 by dcairns

Following Glenn Kenny’s lead, I’ve written before about the strange and abiding influence of Bunuel and Dali’s UN CHIEN ANDALOU on the work of Robert Siodmak. But this is a weird one ~

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE DIVORCE is a very early American Siodmak movie, a marital comedy set in England, odd and not very sympathetic material for the German noirist.

[Of the early American period, my view is that WEST POINT WIDOW is dreary, with Siodmak’s every decision closely overseen by an interfering producer: “This picture is not good enough to be called a Siodmak picture,” the director finally told him.

FLY-BY-NIGHT is a very amusing spy thriller with Richard Carlson as an atomic scientist. The Hitchcock model is plundered completely, and Hollywood’s favourite Goebbels, Martin Kosleck, gets a rare sympathetic part.

MY HEART BELONGS TO DADDY is lightweight but nice — the snowy settings allow Siodmak to flex his visual muscles, and it has a sweet perf by Richard Carlson as an “atom-smasher” — a physicist, again. Mabel Paige, in her first movie since 1918, has a small role, and the puckish Cecil Kellaway has a major one as a taxi driver with expertise in everything (he describes himself as agraduate of the University of Edinburgh!). A movie nice enough to make me forget I normally hate screenwriter F Hugh Herbert’s every word.

Then comes DIVORCE, then SOMEONE TO REMEMBER, the forgotten masterpiece that gives Mabel Paige her one starring role. Then comes SON OF DRACULA and the better known films, leading to THE KILLERS et al.]

The startling moment in THE NIGHT BEFORE THE DIVORCE comes during a dispute over which of the bickering protags is going to get custody of a moose head called Stinky. As the peevish hero attempts to prise Stinky from the wall, there’s a frightful crash, Mrs Bickering-Protag comes into the room, registers dismay, and we cut to her POV, a slightly tilted, expressionist angle on a pile of debris, including a spilled bottle. Tilt down from the bottle to THIS HORROR —

The spilled wine is making it look as if Stinky is crying, you see?

Since this “gag” isn’t particularly funny, and actually is disturbing and awful, it can only really be interpreted as a hommage to the rotting, honey-dripping burros in the piano in UN CHIEN ANDALOU. Am I right or am I right?

If I AM right, then it’s a startling reference to find in a middling American B-movie rom-com. Hooray for Siodmak. Hooray for Bunuel.