Harry Hayden Movies

In this western comedy, a milquetoast gunsmith from the East Coast goes to Arsenic City, Arizona because he has heard that everybody their carries guns. His trip West is an exercise in misfortune. Everything that could go wrong on the journey, does. At least he meets a pretty woman, also en route to Arsenic City. She goes there in search of her late father's gold mine. They fall in love and work together to find her father's killer and reclaim the mine. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

Cary Grant met his future wife Betsy Drake on the set of the appropriately titled Every Girl Should be Married. Grant plays well-known baby specialist Madison Brown, who is Dr. Spock in everything but name. After a chance meeting with headstrong young Anabel Sins (Drake), poor Brown finds his every move and thought monitored by Anabel, who intends to become his wife come heck or high water. Upset that Brown steadfastly resists her charms, Anabel decides to make him jealous by playing up to her boss Roger Sanford (Franchot Tone). When Brown still won't bite, our plucky heroine mounts a campaign enlisting everybody in town to wear down the doctor's resistance. Nowadays, this is called "stalking"; in 1948, it was called "funny." Produced, directed and written by Don Hartman, Every Girl Should be Married was a box-office winner to the tune of $775,000. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

"Boys Town" goes to turn-of-the-century St. Louis in this moving drama that chronicles the love of a determined priest struggling to turn around the lives of a street-wise gang of newsboys living at his homeless shelter. The good father has little money and must use his wits and ability to convince others to help out to supply the little shelter. Much of the story centers on his relationship with a troubled lad who accidentally kills someone. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

Barry Fitzgerald's distinctive brand of Irish blarney, which was wonderful in small doses, leaned towards the precious and boring when he was given a leading role. In Easy Come, Easy Go, Fitzgerald portrays an inveterate horse player who refuses to allow his grown daughter (Diana Lynn) to get married. His motives are less paternal than materialistic: Fitzgerald has been spending all his daughter's hard-earned money at the racetrack. The old duffer reforms by fade-out time, allowing Lynn to choose between her pompadoured swains Sonny Tufts and Dick Foran. This bears no relation to the 1968 Elvis Presley musical of the same name, beyond the fact that both pictures were released by Paramount. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The George S. Kaufman-Marc Connelly play Merton of the Movies was previously filmed in 1923 with Glenn Hunter, and in 1932 (as Make Me a Star) with Stu Erwin. This time around, Red Skelton plays Merton, the small-town rube who aspires to become a dramatic actor in silent pictures. Bumbling his way into Hollywood, he lays waste to several movie sets before he finally lands a screen test. When his histrionic efforts are greeted with derisive laughter, Merton slinks away disappointed and disillusioned-only to re-emerge triumphant as moviedom's newest comedy sensation! In one of her few non-musical appearances, deadpan comedienne Virginia O'Brien plays Phyllis "Flips" Montague, the warmhearted Hollywood stunt girl who befriends and eventually falls in love with the hapless Merton. Reportedly, Buster Keaton supplied a few of the film's sight gags, but apparently not enough to permit Merton of the Movies to rise above mediocrity and predictability. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The third of four films bearing the title of The Perils of Pauline, this musical biopic purports to tell the life story of famed silent serial queen Pearl White. Right at the beginning, however, an introductory title informs the audience that what follows is merely "suggested" by incidents in White's life and career. Translation: The film is a fabrication from beginning to end, but an enjoyable one. Played on all four cylinders by Betty Hutton, White is introduced as a frustrated factory worker who aspires to become a dramatic actress. She joins a touring theatrical troupe managed by handsome but pompous Mike (John Lund), but fame and fortune elude her because she's unable to suppress her natural rambunctiousness. In desperation, White takes a job at a movie studio, where she promptly finds herself in the middle of a slapstick pie fight. With the help of bombastic director Mac (William Demarest), top-hatted villain portrayer Timmy (Billy De Wolfe), and imperious dramatics coach Julia (Constance Collier), Pearl soon becomes world-famous as the star of such cliffhanging, tied-to-the-railroad-tracks serials as The Perils of Pauline (hence the title of this film). At the height of her fame, she arranges for her theatrical mentor Mike to get a job as her leading man, forcing him to swallow his pride and admit that he's been in love with her from the moment he met her. A series of clichéd complications contrive to separate White and Mike, but he returns to her arms when she's seriously injured during a Parisian stage performance. A few fairly credible recreations of silent moviemaking techniques aside, The Perils of Pauline is wildly anachronistic and inaccurate (for one thing, Pearl White made most of her serials in New Jersey rather than Hollywood). As a musical comedy, however, the film passes muster, especially during the performance of such Frank Loesser tunes as "I Wish I Didn't Love You So" and "The Sewing Machine." As a bonus, the film rounds up several silent-movie veterans in cameo roles, including William Farnum, Chester Conklin, Jimmy Finlayson, Creighton Hale, Hank Mann -- and Paul Panzer, who played the sneering villain in the original 1914 Perils of Pauline. ~ All Movie Guide

In this earnest, sentimental drama, a mother does all she can to keep her rebellious daughter from making the same tragic mistakes as she did. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

The Secret Heart is a psychological drama starring June Allyson as a disturbed teenager obsessed with the memory of her dead father and unable to embrace her stepmother. Following the suicide of her father, Penny Addams (Allyson) begins to behave strangely, even locking herself in her room and playing the piano in his memory. Greatly worried, Penny's brother, Chase (Robert Sterling), and stepmother, Lee (Claudette Colbert), consult a psychiatrist, Dr. Rossiger (Lionel Barrymore), who suggests that Penny be returned to the family's country home. Since the site is where the suicide took place, Rossiger believes that confronting the scene will force the young woman to mentally face the reality of her father's death. Once there, however, Penny becomes disenchanted with her father's memory -- which causes her to become even more despondent than ever. Eventually, Penny tries to kill herself in the same manner of her father, but she fails, and the healing process proceeds for all concerned. This dark tale, offbeat for its time, was narrated by Hume Cronyn. ~ Karl Williams, All Movie Guide

In later years, director Fred Zinneman seldom referred to My Brother Talks to Horses as one of his career highpoints. Even so, this leisurely period comedy has its moments, most of them delivered by precocious Jackie "Butch" Jenkins as the title character. Living with his family in Baltimore, 9-year-old Lewie Penrose (Jenkins) claims that he can converse with horses-and also pick the winners of upcoming races. When it appears as though Lewie is telling the truth, he attracts the interest of gambler Rich Roeder (Charles Ruggles), who needs a "sure thing" in the upcoming Preakness. Meanwhile, Lewie's older brother John (Peter Lawford) carries on a romance with the lovely Martha (Beverly Tyler). An unexpected tragedy slows down the film in the home stretch, but otherwise My Brother Talks to Horses is a pleasant second-echelon MGM production. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Without Reservations has to be the least typical John Wayne picture of the postwar era. Top billing is bestowed upon Claudette Colbert as Kit, a best-selling novelist heading westward to oversee the film version of her latest novel. Taking it upon herself to select the man who should portray the hero of her novel, Kit chooses war hero Rusty (John Wayne), whom she meets during her train trip to Hollywood. Unaware of Kit's true identity, Rusty and his pal Dink (Don DeFore) rail against the factual errors in her book. One thing leads to another, and before long Kit, Rusty and Dink have all been thrown off the train for annoying the other passengers. After a hectic stopover at a New Mexico farm, Kit reveals who she really is to Rusty and Dink, who are understandably put out. All is forgiven in the end, of course, with Kit and Rusty altar-bound at fadeout time. The Hollywood scenes feature such guest celebrities as Cary Grant, Louella Parsons and Jack Benny; and yes, that is an unbilled Raymond Burr as Claudette Colbert's dancing partner. Without Reservations was based on Jane Allen and May Livingston's novel Thanks, God, I'll Take it From Here (too bad they couldn't use that title!) ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The presence of William Powell as legendary showman Flo Ziegfeld at the beginning of Ziegfeld Follies might lead an impressionable viewer from thinking that this 1946 film is a Technicolor sequel to the 1936 Oscar-winning The Great Ziegfeld. Not so: this is more in the line of an all-star revue, much like such early talkies as Hollywood Revue of 1929 and Paramount on Parade. We meet a grayed, immaculately garbed Ziegfeld in Paradise (his daily diary entry reads "Another heavenly day"), where he looks down upon the world and muses over the sort of show he'd be putting on were he still alive. Evidently Ziegfeld's shade has something of a celestial conduit to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios, since his "dream" show is populated almost exclusively by MGM stars. Vincente Minnelli is given sole directorial credit at the beginning of the film, though many of the individual "acts" were helmed by other hands. The Bunin puppets offer a tableau depicting anxious theatregoers piling into a Broadway theatre, as well as caricatures of Ziegfeld's greatest stars. The opening number, "Meet the Ladies", spotlights a whip-wielding (!) Lucille Ball, a bevy of chorus girls dressed as panthers, and, briefly, Margaret O'Brien. Kathryn Grayson and "The Ziegfeld Girls" perform "There's Beauty Everywhere." Victor Moore and Edward Arnold show up in an impressionistically staged adaptation of the comedy chestnut "Pay the Two Dollars". Fred Astaire and Lucille Bremer (a teaming which evidently held high hopes for MGM) dance to the tune of "This Heart is Mine." "Number Please" features Keenan Wynn in an appallingly unfunny rendition of an old comedy sketch (performed far better as "Alexander 2222" in Abbott and Costello's Who Done It?) Lena Horne, strategically placed in the film at a juncture that could be edited out in certain racist communities, sings "Love". Red Skelton stars in the film's comedy highlight, "When Television Comes"-which is actually Skelton's classic "Guzzler's Gin" routine (this sequence was filmed late in 1944, just before Red's entry into the armed services). Astaire and Bremer return for a lively rendition of "Limehouse Blues". Judy Garland, lampooning every Hollywood glamour queen known to man, stops the show with "The Interview". Even better is the the historical one-time-only teaming of Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly in "The Babbitt and the Bromide". The excellence of these sequence compensate for the mediocrity of "The Sweepstakes Ticket", wherein Fanny Brice screams her way through a dull comedy sketch with Hume Cronyn (originally removed from the US prints of Ziegfeld Follies, this sequence was restored for television). Excised from the final release print (pared down to 110 minutes, from a monumental 273 minutes!) was Judy Garland's rendition of "Liza", a duet featuring Garland and Mickey Rooney, and a "Baby Snooks" sketch featuring Fanny Brice, Hanley Stafford and B. S. Pully. A troubled and attenuated production, Ziegfeld Follies proved worth the effort when the film rang up a $2 million profit. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Sometimes dismissed as a derivation of Samuel Goldwyn's The Best Years of Our Lives, RKO Radio's superb Till the End of Time was actually based on Niven Busch's novel They Dream of Home, and was completed and released several months before the Goldwyn film. The story concentrates on three ex-marines: Cliff Harper (Guy Madison), Bill Tabeshaw (Robert Mitchum) and Perry Kincheloe (Bill Williams). Harper falls in love with emotionally distraught war widow Pat Ruscomb (Dorothy McGuire); Tabeshaw endures one disappointment after another as he tries to buy his own ranch; and Kincheloe, rendered legless by the war, intends to spend the rest of his life wallowing in self-pity. All three men find a new lease on life when they engage in a cathartic barroom brawl against a bigoted group of self-styled patriots led by hate-spouting Ray Teal (forever typecast as rabid racists during the postwar years). It was this climactic scene, which remains the most memorable aspect of Till the End of Time (outside of its Chopin-inspired theme song) that caused a lot of headaches for producer Dore Schary, screenwriter Allen Rivkin and director Edward Dmytryk during the House Unamerican Activities hearings a few years later: what was accepted as pro-American in 1946 would soon be labelled "Pinko" by the anti-Red zealots. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide