Peggy Diggins Movies

The direction of Warner Bros.' Lady Gangster is credited to one "Florian Roberts," who on closer examination turns out to be veteran helmsman Robert Florey, working pseudonymously. Faye Emerson plays the title character, aspiring actress Dot Burton, whose chance association with a gang of bank robbers leads inexorably to a life of crime. She eventually ends up in prison, where she participates in a break-out. Her regeneration comes about when she rescues Kenneth Phillips (Frank Wilcox), the only man who has ever shown her any kindness, from being rubbed out by the mob. The supporting cast includes Julie Bishop (who only a year earlier had been billing herself as Jacqueline Wells), and Jackie "C." Gleason, wasted in the role of a rotund henchman. Lady Gangter bears some traces of the 1932 Warner Bros. drama The Life of Vergie Winters. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In the wake of Abbott & Costello's Buck Privates, every studio in Hollywood began cranking out service comedies. Warner Bros.' contribution to this trend was You're in the Army Now, featuring the unlikely but undeniably chucklesome duo of Jimmy Durante and Phil Silvers. The stars are cast as Jeeper and Breezy, erstwhile vacuum-cleaner salesman who stage a demonstration at a local army camp, only to end up in uniform themselves. Thanks to their ineptitude and chronic inability to follow orders, our heroes spend most of their training period in the guardhouse. They try to atone for past misdeeds during maneuvers, only to end up trapped in a remote cabin which teeters perilously on a mountain ledge (the whole routine was borrowed-actually, stolen-from Chaplin's The Gold Rush). Not teamed in the traditional sense, Durante and Silvers are permitted to perform their solo specialties, with both comedians coming out fairly even in terms of laugh delivery. As a bonus, this is the film in which nominal romantic leads Regis Toomey and Jane Wyman performed the longest screen kiss in movie history (Leonard Maltin clocked it at three minutes, five seconds)-a feat that reportedly led Wyman's then-husband Ronald Reagan to wonder aloud why he couldn't keep his wife's interest that long! ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The George S. Kaufman/Moss Hart Broadway hit The Man Who Came to Dinner was inspired by the authors' mutual friend, waspish critic/author Alexander Woollcott. Generously bearded ex-Yale professor Monty Woolley, no mean curmudgeon himself, plays the Woollcott character, here rechristened Sheridan Whiteside. While on a lecture tour in Ohio, Whiteside slips on the ice outside his hosts' home; until his broken leg heals, the hosts (Grant Mitchell and Billie Burke) are forced to put up (and put up with) the imperious Whiteside. This means enduring an unending stream of Whiteside's whims, caprices and vitriolic bon mots, as well as his long-distance phone calls, eccentric guests and a variety of critters, ranging from penguins to octopi. Like the real Woollcott, Whiteside insists upon stage-managing the lives of everyone around him. He is particularly keen on discouraging a romance between his faithful secretary Maggie Cutler (top-billed Bette Davis) and local newspaper editor Bert Jefferson (Richard Travis). Once he realizes he's gone too far in this respect, Whiteside is forced to reunite the lovers. That's only one aspect of a three-ring-circus plotline that accommodates a Lizzie Bordenish axe murderess, takeoffs of Woollcott intimates Harpo Marx, Noel Coward and Gertrude Lawrence, and a general practitioner who's willing to let his patients suffer for a chance to pitch his interminable memoirs to Whiteside. Featured in the cast are Jimmy Durante as "Banjo" (the Harpo clone), Reginald Gardiner as the Noel Coward-like Beverly Carlton, Anne Sheridan as the predatory Gertrude Lawrence counterpart Lorraine Sheldon, and Mary Wickes as the long-suffering Nurse Preen ("You have the touch of a love-starved cobra!") The script, by the Epstein brothers, manages to retain most of the play's best lines and situations, even while expanding Bette Davis' role to justify her start status; it's a shame, though, that we are robbed of Sheridan Whiteside's imperishable opening line, "I may vomit!" ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Stalwart Warner Bros. contract player George Reeves, better known as TV's Superman, was given an early opportunity to "carry" a picture in the 1940 quickie Always a Bride. Wealthy Rosemary Lane, dissatisfied with her dishwater-dull fiance John Eldredge, throws him over in favor of Reeves. To make certain that her new beau will be acceptable to her parents, Lane contrives to have Reeves enter a mayoral campaign. As election day draws close, criminals complicate matters (one of the "disreputables" is Ben Welden, later a frequent Superman guest star) The 58-minute Always a Bride was pared down from a three-act play by Barry Conners. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi