James Dale Movies

In 1948, "The Archers" -- the writing and directing team of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger -- had completed The Red Shoes, one of their greatest international successes, but it had yet to be released when the Rank Organization, doubting the commercial appeal of the picture, severed ties with the team and Powell and Pressburger signed a new deal with Alexander Korda's London Films. Their first project for Korda, The Small Back Room, was a dramatic change of pace, a thriller set in London in the midst of World War II. Sammy Rice (David Farrar) is explosives expert who works with British military intelligence as part of a ragtag munitions research team studying new ways to defuse enemy weapons and improve allied arms. While he's brilliant on the job, Rice is a troubled man with an artificial leg that causes him chronic pain and an appetite for alcohol that stands between him and those around him, especially his girlfriend and secretary Susan (Kathleen Byron). Rice's latest project is finding a way to defuse a new German bomb that's cleverly disguised as a children's toy, but Rice finds himself battling his superiors when Waring (Jack Hawkins), an unscrupulous businessman who has been pressed into service with the explosives team, and his colleague Professor Mair (Milton Rosmer) begin lobbying the Army to purchase a new weapon that Rice feels is both ineffective and dangerous. Despite excellent reviews and a fine cast that includes Cyril Cusack, Sidney James and Robert Morley in a cameo appearance, The Small Back Room was a box office disappointment on its original release, and it appeared in edited form in the United States under the title Hour of Glory, though later video releases allowed Americans to see the film in its original British cut. ~ Mark Deming, Rovi

This western mystery offers a behind-the-scenes look at movie making. The trouble begins when a cowboy star is mysteriously killed on the set. A detective investigates and becomes determined to save the prime suspect. Despite the terrible danger he faces, the investigator does not stop until the real culprit has been apprehended and justice is served. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

The title of this MGM musical alone should tip you to the fact that Esther Williams is the star. In this one, she plays a movie star (what an innovation!), Rosalind Reynolds, who is on location in Hawaii to shoot a picture. Peter Lawford plays the film's naval technical advisor, Lt. Lawrence Y. Kingslee, who naturally falls deeply in love with Rosalind. As a means of expressing his ardor, Kingslee genteelly kidnaps Rosalind by "accidentally" marooning her on a desert island. To the dismay of feminists everywhere, Rosalind comes to enjoy being Kingslee's prisoner, and all ends happily. Jimmy Durante breaks up da joint in the role of an assistant director, while music is provided by MGM's all-purpose bandleader Xavier Cugat. The Technicolor process is shown to supreme advantage whenever it concentrates on Esther Williams' form-fitting gold-colored swimsuit. On an Island with You was one of MGM's premiere moneymakers of 1948. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Blanche Fury combined two elements that were surefire moneymakers in postwar Britain: a brooding, Gothic-novel storyline and the dazzlingly handsome Stewart Granger. Heroine Blanche Fury (Valerie Hobson) is an impoverished governess who marries into wealth and sets herself up as the mistress of a vast estate. Enter Heathcliffe-like stable boy Philip Thorn (Granger), who intends to run the estate and eventually claim Blanche as his own. After a torrid, bodice-ripping romance between Blanche and Philip, the story segues into a no-names-please reenactment of the infamous 19th-century "Rush Murder." To "explain" the motives of the characters, the screenwriters deviate from the original Joseph Shearing novel by imposing all sorts of 20th-century "psychological disturbances" upon hero and heroine, with an abruptness and lack of logic that takes the viewer's breath away. Up until the end, however, Blanche Fury is a prime example of high-budget postwar British melodrama. Oddly, despite its $1.5 million price tag, con brio performances and superb Technicolor cinematography, Blanche Fury was a box-office disappointment, bringing an end to the "Gothic cycle" that had begun so promisingly with 1943's The Man in Grey. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Laurence Housman's 1935 stage play Victoria Regina, which has served as a showcase for actresses as varied as Helen Hayes and Julie Harris, was adapted for the screen in 1937 as Victoria the Great. Herbert Wilcox was the producer, so no one was surprised and everyone was satisfied when Wilcox cast his actress wife, the beloved Anna Neagle, as Queen Victoria. The film repeats the play's episodic approach, tracing Victoria from her 1837 coronation to her Jubilee celebration sixty years later. Ms. Neagle is faultless, if perhaps a bit too self satisfied in this actor-proof role; her best scenes are with Prince Albert, played with finesse by Anton Walbrook. The Jubilee finale was originally filmed in resplendent Technicolor (derided in 1937 as vulgar) though some scattered prints are still processed in black and white. Victoria the Great was also released as Sixty Glorious Years. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Henry Oscar plays Gabriel Perry in this rusty-dusty British courtroom drama. Perry is the local justice-of-the peace; his wife is played by Olga Lindo. When Mrs. Perry discovers that Gabriel has committed murder, she can do nothing; after all, a wife cannot testify against her husband (or could not back in 1935). Margaret Lockwood, on the verge of stardom, shows up in a nondescript ingenue role. The Case of Gabriel Perry was adapted from Wild Justice, a play by James Dale. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi