Ruth Roman Movies

All but forgotten today, Ladies Courageous was one of the more successful wartime morale-boosters. Loretta Young heads the virtually all-female cast as Robert Harper, no-nonsense executive officer of the original 24 members of the Women's Auxiliary Ferrying Squadron. Each of the women under her command has a story to tell, and tell it they do in long, verbose flashbacks. Standing out in the supporting cast is Geraldine Fitzgerald as Vinnie Alford, who joins the WAFs for publicity purposes and nearly scuttles the program in the process. Also appearing is the tragic Diana Barrymore, whose leading role was considerably trimmed before the film was released to the public. Though not all that exciting (especially considering the subject matter), Ladies Courageous served its patriotic purpose in 1943. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Leonard Maltin once observed that Storm Over Lisbon is what Casablanca would have looked like had it been produced by Republic instead of Warner Bros. This wartime meller reunites the cast and director of the successful Republic melodrama Lady and the Monster, with less than successful results. Skating star Vera Hruba Ralston plays Maritza, a woman of mystery operating in neutral Lisbon. Maritza is somehow connected with sinister café owner Deresco (Erich Von Stroheim), who seems to have a more than a cozy relationship with the Nazis. Deresco tries to prevent American journalist John Craig (Richard Arlen) from leaving Lisbon with a cache of top-secret microfilm (what, no Letters of Transit?) With the whole world crumbling, Vera Ralston manages to work in an ice-ballet number. Few have ever had the urge to shout "Play it again" after watching Storm Over Lisbon. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Veteran action specialists Ray Taylor and Lewis D. Collins co-directed this below-average Universal serial featuring brunette starlet Lois Collier as a young woman swept up in international intrigue in Darkest Africa. Although the serial's nominal (and much imperiled) heroine, Collier did not play the title role, however. That dubious distinction went to a very young Ruth Roman, in her screen debut, as an ethereal jungle girl whose presence in the film remained vague throughout. The muddled story is something about the Nazi High Command (personified by that notorious blackheart Douglass Dumbrille) attempting to infiltrate and sway an unfriendly jungle tribe. Considering the real-world situation in 1945, The Jungle Queen was frivolous entertainment at its mind-numbing worst. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

Joan Davis, the daughter of a famed woman detective, has inherited none of her mother's deductive prowess. Nonetheless, Joan teams with patrolman Leon Errol to solve a series of blowgun murders. The two erstwhile Sherlocks track down the alleged murder weapon to a theatre, where it is being used as a prop in a play. After disrupting the performance, Davis determines that the murders weren't committed by blowgun, and that the culprit is a mild-mannered gentleman to whom murder is a "hobby." The title She Gets Her Man clues us in on the finale, and also refers to the shaky but affectionate relationship between Joan Davis and Leon Errol. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

"You can live a long time in three days -- sometimes when you're in a tight spot, you can live a year in ten seconds." US Army Air Force Major Bob Collins (Robert Cummings), Captain "Shakespeare" Anders (Don Defore), and Lt. "Handsome" Janoshek (Charles Drake) are three happy-go-lucky combat pilots, decorated heroes who are on a tour promoting War Bonds. Their public relations representative from the Treasury Department, Ivy Hotchkiss (Lizabeth Scott), finds at first that can't do much more than tag along, picking up after them and observing their carousing, especially Collins, who seems to have a wide array of female acquaintances in every city they visit. Indeed, although she says little about it, their carousing is out-of-proportion to their circumstances -- yes, their current mission involves a lot of cramped traveling cross-country. shaking hands, endless speechifying, and even more endless listening to tributes to the heroism of the air corps, all of which gets boring and tiring very fast; but these men act like they're burning the candle at both ends, almost manic in their pursuit of women and laughs, and just as devoted to the three of them enjoying anything they do together, past the point of pilots' usual comraderie. They go so far as to sneak out ahead of one extremely important rally, but eventually Ivy gets them to straighten up and fly right, at least when they're supposed to, and the trio -- who has taken a liking to her for being such as good sport -- agrees to behave, at least when they're supposed to be meeting the public. After a few more misunderstandings, some of them comical, she actually gets to like the trio; the four of them become friends, and Ivy starts getting especially close to Bob, despite his womanizing ways -- but whenever she asks Handsome and Shakespeare about Bob's story, they get very close-mouthed and vague. She doesn't think too much of it, enjoying the time she's having with them, until the truth is accidentally dumped in her lap by a well-meaning medical officer (Rhys Williams) -- that Bob, for all of his freewheeling, happy-go-lucky outlook on life and love, is terminally ill. She suddenly understands their behavior and the true depth of the friendship that Handsome and Shakespeare share with him -- she's also nearly shattered, but she dares not let Bob know that she knows, for fear of destroying what little time he has left. The trio at last becomes a true foursome, bound together around Bob and Ivy. ~ Bruce Eder, All Movie Guide

When wealthy Ballin Mundson (George Macready) rescues down at his heels gambler Johnny Farrell (Glenn Ford) and invites him to the Buenos Aires casino he owns, both men get more than they wagered on. Farrell convinces Mundson to hire him as casino manager, but is shocked when Mundson introduces his new bride, and Farrell's old flame, Gilda (Rita Hayworth).Though Farrell is unwavering in his loyalty to his employer, and he and Gilda treat each other with contempt, Mundson realizes that the torch never died for either of the former lovers. Ordered to guard Gilda, Farrell tries to convince himself that he's protecting Mundson's interests, but Gilda sees through his self-deception. Meanwhile, Mundson reveals to Farrell that his primary business is control of an international tungsten cartel that he plans to use to further his fascist ends. With the police closing in on the cartel, Mundson fakes his death, apparently leaving Gilda and Farrell free to marry. They do so: Gilda for love, but Farrell to punish her for being unfaithful to Mundson. When Mundson returns to kill them, it is he who dies, thereby freeing the lovers to apologize to each other and return to the U.S. Charles Vidor's Gilda is a voyeuristic film noir treat that engages the viewer in a complex web of sado-masochistic triangles. When, for example, Gilda performs her signature number, "Put the Blame on Mame," she is not simply enraging both Mundson and Farrell with her open sexuality, she is also crying out in pain for the love she is being denied. ~ Steve Press, All Movie Guide

A young woman rides out for vengeance against the marshall who killed her notorious outlaw mother in this western sequel to 1941's Belle Starr. Once in the rough-and-tumble town where he works she learns the surprising truth. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

Small-town department store manager Sam Clayton (Gary Cooper) is a born "Good Samaritan", which in his case translates as "sucker." Much to the dismay of his wife Lu (Anne Sheridan), who'd like to save up enough cash for a new house, Sam habitually gives his money away to one "deserving" soul or other. But when Sam himself is in dire financial difficulty, none of the people to whom he's extended his generosity come to his aid. Disillusioned, he goes on a bender and disappears into the night. Thanks to Lu's not-so-gentle remonstrations, however, Sam's debtors finally own up to their obligations, and a happy ending is had by all. Producer/director Leo McCarey has a good thing going in the first few reels of Good Sam, but eventually loses control of the film, resulting in a great deal of illogical plot twists and character transformations in the final footage. Still, it's interesting to watch Gary Cooper doing what amounts to an imitation of Jimmy Stewart. Originally released a 128 minutes, Good Sam was pared down to 114 minutes for reissue. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

John Farrow's movie adaptation of Kenneth Fearing's The Big Clock, based on a screenplay by Jonathan Latimer (and produced by future James Bond screenwriter Richard Maibaum), is a near-perfect match for the book, telling in generally superb visual style a tale set against the backdrop of upscale 1940s New York and offering an early (but accurate) depiction of the modern media industry. Told in the back-to-front fashion typical of film noir, it opens with George Stroud (Ray Milland) trapped, his life in danger, his survival measured in the minute-by-minute movements of the huge central clock of the office building where he's hiding. In flashback we learn that Stroud works for media baron Earl Janoth (Charles Laughton), loosely based on Henry Luce, as the editor of Crimeways magazine. Janoth is a manipulative, self-centered megalomaniac with various obsessions, including clocks; among other manifestations of the latter fixation, the skyscraper housing his empire's headquarters has as one of its central features a huge clock that reads out the time around the world down to the second.

Twenty-four hours earlier, on the eve of a combined honeymoon/vacation with his wife, Georgia (Maureen O'Sullivan), that has been put off for seven years, Stroud was ordered by Janoth to cancel the trip in order to work on a special project, and he resigned. As the narrative picks up speed, in his depression, Stroud misses the train his wife is on and crosses paths with Pauline York (Rita Johnson), a former model for Janoth's Styleways magazine, who is also Janoth's very unhappy mistress, and the two commiserate by getting drunk together in a night on the town. While hurriedly leaving Pauline's apartment, he glimpses Janoth entering. Janoth and York quarrel, and the publisher kills her in a jealous rage, using a sundial that she and Stroud picked up the night before while wandering around in their revels. Janoth and his general manager, Steve Hagen (George Macready), contrive to pin the murder on the man that Janoth glimpsed leaving York's apartment, whom he thinks was named Jefferson Randolph -- the name Stroud was drunkenly bandying about the night before. He gets Stroud back to Crimeways to lead the magazine's investigators in hunting down "Jefferson Randolph," never realizing that this was Stroud. And Stroud has no choice but to return, desperately trying to gather evidence against Janoth and, in turn, prevent the clues gathered by the Crimeways staff from leading back to him. The two play this clever, disjointed game of cat-and-mouse, Janoth and Hagen planting evidence that will hang "Randolph" (and justify his being shot while trying to escape), while Stroud, knowing what they don't about how close the man they seek to destroy is, arranges to obscure those clues and, in a comical twist, sends the least capable reporters and investigators to follow up on the most substantial clues.

Janoth sometimes seems to be unraveling at the frustrating pace and lack of conclusion to the hunt, but Stroud can't escape the inevitable, or the moments of weakness caused by fear and his own guilt over his near-unfaithfulness to his wife or the inscrutable gaze of Janoth's mute bodyguard Bill Womack (Harry Morgan), a stone-cold killer dedicated to protecting his employer. The trail of proof and guilt winds ever tighter around both men, taking some odd twists courtesy of the eccentric artist (Elsa Lanchester) who has seen the suspect. Milland is perfect in the role of the hapless Stroud, and Laughton is brilliant as the vain, self-centered Janoth, but George Macready is equally good as Hagen, his smooth, upper-crust Waspy smarminess making one's skin crawl. Also worth noting is Harry Morgan's sinister, silent performance as Womack, and sharp-eyed viewers will also recognize such performers as Douglas Spencer, Noel Neill (especially memorable as a tart-tongued elevator operator), Margaret Field (Sally's mother), Ruth Roman, and Lane Chandler in small roles. Additionally, the Janoth Publications building where most of the action takes place is almost a cast member in itself, an art deco wonder, especially the room housing the clock mechanism and the lobby and vestibules, all loosely inspired by such structures as the Empire State Building and the real-life Daily News headquarters on East 42nd Street. This film was later remade as No Way Out. ~ Bruce Eder, All Movie Guide

"What a dump!" That's the classic line delivered by Bette Davis at the halfway point of Beyond the Forest, her final Warner Bros. effort of the 1940s. Some Davis devotees feel as though this vituperative utterance is the high point of an otherwise turgid melodrama; others consider the line a succinct assessment of the entire film. Based on a best-selling novel by Stuart Engstrand, the film stars Davis as Rosa Moline, a small-town girl with big-city ambitions. Trapped in a dull marriage to just-getting-by lawyer Lewis Moline (Joseph Cotten), Rosa plots and plans to sexually entrap millionaire industrialist Neil Latimer (David Brian). That Rosa's scheme is doomed from the start is telegraphed at every juncture by Max Steiner's sledgehammer musical score (few will ever want to hear the song "Chicago" again after this). Hampered by the censorship standards of the era, the film is prevented from being as frank as the novel; in one scene, for example, Rosa is obviously visiting an abortionist, but the sign on the door reads "Psychiatrist." A standard entry in most film historians' "Worst Movies" lists (even Davis herself hated it), Beyond the Forest is rather entertaining in its own schlocky fashion. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Widely regarded as a "model" B-movie thriller, The Window stars Bobby Driscoll as a young boy prone to fibs. Thus, no one believes him when he claims to have seen a murder in a neighboring apartment. No one, that is, except the killers (Paul Stewart and Ruth Roman). Realizing he won't get any help from his parents (Barbara Hale and Arthur Kennedy) or the law, the boy must figure out a way to save himself from being shut up permanently by the murderers. The film's hair-rising and oft-imitated climax, which takes place in a rotting abandoned tenement, has lost none of its edge over the past five decades. A much-needed hit for financially strapped RKO Radio Pictures, The Window was remade in 1960 as The Boy Cried Murder. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The Randolph Scott western Colt .45 was retitled for TV so as not to be confused with the TV series of the same name. The new title, Thundercloud, misleads the audience into expecting a Native American epic. Actually the film involves a gun salesman (Randolph Scott) whose sample case of Colt 45's is stolen by an outlaw (Zachary Scott--no relation to Randolph). Accused of being a member of the outlaw gang when they start using the Colts in their holdups, the salesman is obliged to track down the crooks. Thundercloud, or Colt .45, represented the last film of supporting actor Alan Hale Sr. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide