Tom D'Andrea Movies

Rob (Dick Van Dyke) is supposed to watch a TV special in order to talent-scout for his boss Alan Brady -- and of course, Alan is certain to ask Rob what he thought of the show. At the same time, our hero is slated to attend a cousin's wedding in Albany. Sure enough, the TV set in Rob's hotel room conks out, forcing him to scramble around to locate another set in a hurry -- which gets him mixed up in a '60s rehash of an old French bedroom farce! This episode was originally slated to air on January 12, 1966. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Jethro has forsaken such earlier career goals as brain surgeon and double-naught spy: now, he aspires to be an astronaut. Meanwhile, bank secretary Jane Hathaway likewise decides to change careers, becoming a folk singer. Eventually, it is Jethro who takes up singing as a profession. Originally scheduled to air on March 23, 1966, "The Folk Singers" was rescheduled to March 30 due to CBS' coverage of Gemini VIII's emergency splash-down. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This drama tells the true story of one of Broadway's most successful madams in the 1920s. It is loosely based on the autobiography of Polly Adler. The story begins when young Polly is seduced and raped at her job by the sweatshop foreman. When her uncle, with whom she lived, learns of the act, he blames her and tosses her out. She then moves into an apartment owned by a racketeer. It is he who encourages her into her "helping" profession when he gives her money for bringing her pals to a gangster party. Soon she is beginning to build up her own clientele. As her business prospers, she begins to choose nicer locations. Her tiny cathouse becomes a haven for sleazy politicos, mobsters, and businessmen. The madame herself has a passionate romance with a young songwriter and she helps his career. He does not know of her vocation and she eventually breaks up with him to keep his reputation intact. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

The Next Voice You Hear was a pet project of MGM producer Dore Schary, who lavished more attention on this modestly budgeted drama than he did on some of his "bigger" projects. Though based on characters first introduced in the 1942 film Joe Smith, American, Next Voice was not a sequel to the earlier film. James Whitmore stars as blue-collar family man Joe Smith, while future first lady Nancy Davis appears as his pregnant wife and Gary Gray rounds out the family unit as their son. The Smiths, their relatives, their neighbors and the citizens of the World are shaken out of their complacency when the voice of God begins delivering messages over the radio. For six consecutive evenings, the voice speaks over the airwaves (the movie audience never hears the voice, thanks to a series of clever evasionary tactics). At first frightened, the listeners gradually realize that God simply wants to convey the age-old message "Love thy Neighbor." With this realization comes several changes of attitude, some minor, others profound. The concept may sound portentous (and pretentious), but the actors handle their responsibilities with subtlety and conviction. So, too, does director William A. Wellman, a curious choice indeed for this sort of film. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Warren Quimby (Richard Basehart) has a problem that he won't admit to: his wife, Claire (Audrey Totter), wants more fun and excitement out of life than the quiet, soft-spoken pharmacist can give her. So she steps out on him regularly, something that Warren refuses to recognize until the day she packs her bags and announces she's moving in with Barney Deager (Lloyd Gough), the flashy, high-living salesman whom she's been seeing on the side. Warren goes to Deager's, to ask her to come back, and gets beaten up by his rival. The worm suddenly turns in his own quiet way of doing things, and Warren decides he's going to get even -- he's going to murder Deager, but to do it and not get caught, he bides his time. He begins building a new identity for himself, changing his appearance (starting with getting rid of his thick glasses in favor of then-newly-invented contact lenses), and establishing his alter ego of "Paul Sothern" at a new address. He then starts making threatening calls to Deager, identifying himself as Sothern, in order to establish a history of enmity between the two. It's all going according to plan -- he will kill Deager and the blame will fall on "Sothern," who, of course, doesn't exist, and will have vanished. But then he meets Mary Chanler (Cyd Charisse), a neighbor at "Sothern"'s apartment building, and the two become attracted to each other. For every step forward that he takes in his plan for murder, he also finds himself with new possibilities in his life, growing out of his relationship with Mary. Finally, the night comes when he breaks into Deager's home and is about to kill him, when it dawns on Warren that he doesn't need to do this....He awakens Deager and tells him what almost happened and that he's leaving, and Deager is welcome to Claire, and leaves. It seems as though he's averted disaster when Claire shows up later that night, pleading for reconciliation and finally, when pressed, telling him that someone has murdered Deager. The man has been shot, and the police, led by lieutenants Bonnabel (Barry Sullivan) and Gonsales (William Conrad), are hunting for Paul Sothern. Now Warren is scared for his life, having done his best to frame himself, and Claire isn't helping by trying to run interference -- he can't tell if she's trying to protect the two of them, implicate Sothern, or protect herself, and he's too scared to say almost anything at all to the detectives. ~ Bruce Eder, Rovi

To the Victor is one of the first Hollywood films to touch upon the subject of war guilt. There are no high-ranking Nazis or gas ovens here; the people on trial are French citizens, accused of collaboration. This being a Warner Bros. production, the cast includes such authentic Frenchpersons as Dennis Morgan, Bruce Bennett and Dorothy Malone; leading lady Viveca Lindfors isn't from Burbank, but she's not from France either. Once past this obstacle, the film raises some interesting moral and ethical questions, but was made to close to the events for anything resembling objectivity. Plus there's a turgid romance between a French girl and a black marketeer, which adds nothing to the proceedings. To the Victor warrants B for effort, C for results. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Excellent Technicolor photography, principally in the aerial scenes, is the main asset of the cliché-ridden Fighter Squadron. Set in the months just prior to D-Day, the plot zeroes in on Marjor Ed Hardin (Edmond O'Brien) leader of a squadron of fearless combat pilots. In keeping with the conventions of the era, the training and flying sequences are counterbalanced with comic byplay involving wheeler-dealer Sergeant Dolan (Tom D'Andrea), whose flippant attitudes towards the opposite sex are a bit hard to take today. Far more effective is the performance of 15-year-old Jack Larson, making his screen debut in the role of a rookie pilot who grows up in a hurry after scoring his first kill (Larson later gained TV immortality as Jimmy Olsen on Superman). Also making his first screen appearance, in a role so small it isn't even billed, is a former truck driver named Rock Hudson. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Jack Carson and Robert Hutton make a curious but copacetic comedy duo in the Warner Bros. musical Love and Learn. The stars are cast as Jingles and Bob, a pair of would-be songwriters hoping to get a break on Broadway. Along comes Barbara Wyngate (Martha Vickers), a wealthy young woman who hopes to make it on her own in the Big Apple. Hiding her true identity, Barbara helps the boys behind the scenes without their knowing it. Inevitably, Jingles and Bob clash over Barbara's affections, a problem that isn't resolved until the last possible moment. Craig Stevens, TV's future Peter Gunn, is featured in another of those "stuffed shirt" characterizations in which he was then specializing at Warners. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Fannie Hurst's novel Humoresque is the lachrymose tale of a famed Jewish-American violinist who forgets all about his friends and family in his rise to fame. Screenwriters Clifford Odets and Zachary Gold refashioned this timeworn material into a first-class, big-budget soap opera, completely dominated by the high-octane talents of Joan Crawford and John Garfield. A gifted musician, Garfield rises from the slums to the upper echelons of society, thanks to the patronage of wealthy, alcoholic Crawford. Virtually ignored by her husband Paul Cavanaugh, Crawford adopts Garfield as her lover as well as her protégé. He is only mildly offended by the setup; she, on the other hand, becomes jealous and possessive. It is not a woman who comes between Crawford and Garfield: it the intensity of his talent, not to mention the spectre of the great composers whose works he interprets so brilliantly. Garfield's virago of a mother (Ruth Nelson) feeds upon Crawford's jealousy, planting the seeds of guilt for (allegedly) holding her son back. The ultrastylish suffering of Joan Crawford and the street-punk insouciance of John Garfield (who looks like a "Dead End Kid" even while wearing a tux) is counterpointed by the phlegmatic comedy relief of Oscar Levant. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Romantic comedy was never Errol Flynn's forte, but he occasionally gave it the old college try in such films as Never Say Goodbye. Flynn plays Phil Gayley, a Petty-like magazine illustrator, whose close proximity with gorgeous female models ruins his marriage to the lovely Ellen (Eleanor Parker). When the Gayleys divorce, their precocious 7-year-old daughter Flip (Patti Brady) contrives to bring them back together. She does, of course, but not before several by-the-number comic complications, not least of which finds Phil and his romantic rival Rex DeVallon (Donald Woods) dressed in lookalike Santa Claus suits. The film's biggest laughs are garnered whenever Errol Flynn lampoons his established "swashbuckler" image, which he does with apparent relish. At one point, Flynn even imitates Humphrey Bogart-an effect accomplished by dubbing in the voice of the real Bogart! ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

John Garfield stars as Al Schmid, a true-life marine who served in World War II. Schmid becomes a hero at Guadalcanal, defending a machine gun post and killing 200 Japanese before he is permanently blinded by a grenade. Despite being awarded the Navy Cross, Schmid returns home embittered by his disability. After a long and grueling convalescence, he is shaken back to life by his girl friend Ruth (Eleanor Parker) and his best pal (Dane Clark), neither of whom allow Al to wallow in self-pity. The pride in Pride of the Marines comes from Al Schmid's ultimate realization that his sacrifice was worthwhile, and that his sightlessness need not prevent him from leading a full and rewarding life. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This third film version of Maxwell Anderson's play Saturday's Children stars Claude Rains as the impecunious but proud father of a large brood. Rains' daughter Anne Shirley marries idealistic John Garfield, a would-be inventor who works for Shirley's father. Feeling that he's been tricked into marriage, Garfield gives every indication of turning out to be as much "failure" as Rains. Only when Garfield and Shirley are on the verge of breaking up do they realize that material gain is not the only barometer of success in life. Previous filmizations of this story include Saturday's Children (29), starring Corinne Griffith, and Maybe It's Love (35), costarring Ross Alexander and Gloria Stuart. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi