Hans Herbert Movies

Ginger Rogers ended her 23-year association with RKO Radio with the indifferent musical comedy western The First Travelling Saleslady. Ginger and Broadway favorite Carol Channing (whose only starring film this was) play a pair of corset salespersons who head westward in 1897 to hawk their wares. Finding a limited market for corsets, the ladies switch to selling barbed wire, which rests not at all well with cattle baron James Arness. Rescuing Ginger and Carol from Arness' hired guns are horseless-carriage inventor Barry Nelson and callow young cowpoke Clint Eastwood. Whenever asked about First Travelling Saleslady in later years, Carol Channing would blithely refer to it as "the picture that killed RKO"; she wasn't too far wrong in this assessment. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Set in Paris, Under My Skin stars John Garfield as a washed-up jockey who has stolen money from a crooked gambler (Luther Adler). Anxious to escape with his life, Garfield leaves his young son (Orley Lindgren) in the care of his nightclub chanteuse girlfriend (Micheline Presle). While on the lam, Garfield has a change of heart and decides to make good for his son's sake. The gambler catches up with the jockey and demands that he throw an upcoming race, or else. Garfield makes the ultimate sacrifice so that his son will grow up remembering him with pride. Under My Skin was based on the Ernest Hemingway story My Old Man, which was refilmed for television in 1979 with Warren Oates as the father and Kristy McNichol as his daughter (one supposes that it was contract-commitment time). ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

With 1947's Desperate, a disturbing, noirish twist on traditional moral values, responsibility, and guilt, director Anthony Mann entered the ranks of class-A directors, though he'd still have to spend a few more years in "B" pictures. In his first important role, Steve Brodie plays newlywed trucker Steve Randall, who finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time during a fur robbery. Kidnapping Steve, the criminals, led by Walt Radak (Raymond Burr), threaten to mutilate Mrs. Randall (Audrey Long) unless Steve confesses to a murder committed by Radak's brother during the theft. Pretending to play along with the villains, Steve manages to escape with his wife in tow. The rest of the film is a prolonged chase, with the Randalls pursued by both the crooks and the cops. A surprise ending caps this film noir mini-classic, which is best appreciated when not seen in its computer-colorized version. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

If Grecian storyteller Aesop really did exist, he was most likely a black slave. He wasn't an Austrian actor with an Egyptian name, but that's who played him in A Night in Paradise. Turhan Bey portrays the fable-spouting Aesop, who tries to escape his bondage by disguising himself as an old man. It is at the lavish court of King Croesus that the greyed-up Aesop first meets luscious Grecian princess Merle Oberon. The low-born talespinner is smitten, and determines to win the princess for his very own. Moral: If Universal buys a novel by George S. Hellman titled The Peacock's Feather, transforms it into a picture called A Night in Paradise, and appoints onetime Abbott and Costello cohort Arthur Lubin as director, you know what you're in for. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In many ways the most endearing of Universal's B-grade "monster rallies" of the 1940s, House of Frankenstein manages within its 70-minute time span to make room for Frankenstein's monster (Glenn Strange), Dracula (John Carradine) the Wolf Man (Lon Chaney Jr.), and a couple of new recruits, mad scientist Boris Karloff and demented hunchback J. Carroll Naish. Escaping from prison, Karloff vows to continue his diabolical efforts to emulate Dr. Frankenstein's "eternal life" experiments; he also swears vengeance on the three men (Sig Ruman, Frank Reicher and Michael Mark) who were responsible for sending him to prison. With the help of fellow escapee Naish, Karloff murders a travelling-carnival impresario (George Zucco) and assumes his identity. He travels first to the village where Ruman is burgomaster. Since his carnival is a "chamber of horrors", Karloff utilizes one of those horrors--Count Dracula--to settle his account with Ruman. Dracula does so, but dies when the first rays of sunlight stream across his body. En route to the next village, Naish gives shelter to runaway gypsy girl Elena Verdugo, who joins the caravan (though she remains incredibly naive concerning Karloff's intentions!) Coming to the village when the Frankenstein monster and the Wolfman were presumably drowned at the end of Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman (1944), Karloff revives the latter, who when he's not baying at the moon is the comparatively good-looking Lawrence Talbot. Karloff secures Talbot's cooperation by promising to perform some brain surgery that will relieve him of his lycanthropy. Later on, Karloff kidnaps and kills his other enemies Mark and Reicher, intending to use their brains to cure Talbot and to reactivate the Frankenstein monster. Jealous of Verdugo's attentions towards Talbot, Naish rebels against Karloff, and is killed for his troubles. Talbot turns into the Wolfman, whereupon Verdugo kills him before expiring herself. And Karloff, rendered immobile by the requisite attack of angry villagers, is dragged by the lumbering Monster into a pit of quicksand. Thus House of Frankenstein has something in common with Hamlet: No one is left alive at fade-out time. It's to scenarist Robert Siodmak's credit that he was able to fashion a coherent screenplay out of the crazy-quilt of copyrighted horror characters handed to him by Universal Pictures. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The general perception of the Technicolor costume adventure movies that Maria Montez and Jon Hall made for Universal in the early 1940's is that they were pure escapist entertainment, intended to make people forget for an hour or so about the Second World War and the general world situation. And generally that is true about them -- they were mostly no "about" much more than having fun for 90 minutes or so amid pretty sets with lots of action and some pretty women in exotic outfits. But watching Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, one has to wonder if even here the screenwriter, Edmund L. Hartmann, was able to totally get away from the day-to-day reality around him. The opening Mongol invasion of Bagdad and the murder of the old Caliph (Moroni Olsen) while trying to set up a government-in-exile without thinking of the German and Japanese conquests and occupations of various nations that would have been going on at the time; additionally, the fact that the old Caliph is murdered with the help of a traitor in his own noble ranks -- a "quisling" in the term coined during World War II -- wouldn't have been missed by audiences at the time. Further, the screenplay very specifically paints the forty thieves as heroes who have gone from being criminals to an active resistance force against the occupying Mongols -- indeed, at the denouement, their invasion of the palace is greeted as a day of liberation by the people of Bagdad. The movie walks a strange tightrope, casting about veiled topical references of that sort, even as is otherwise sufficiently tongue-in-cheek to cast Andy Devine as a desert bandit. Obviously, Ali Baba And The Forty Thieves was sold as -- and mostly intended as -- light entertainment, but just below that glitzy Technicolor surface were some fascinating allusions to the real world. None of this stops Ali Baba And The Forty Thieves from being immense fun -- it is, even if the "fun" isn't totally escapist in nature -- and it's great to look at as well, even 60 years on; Universal has apparently kept preservation-quality source materials on this and Hall and Montez's other Technicolor costume romps. And this particular entry in that group of movies also contains one very instructive clue to the morays and censorship of the time in one scene, in which the hero meets the heroine bathing at an oasis -- the makers seem to have been forced to insert a particular shot that is there for no other reason then to make it clear that she is not totally naked when he sees her. ~ Bruce Eder, All Movie Guide

This Technicolor retelling of the Gaston Leroux "grand guignol" classic The Phantom of the Opera has a little more opera than phantom, but that's because the stars are soprano Susannah Foster and tenor Nelson Eddy. Claude Rains carries the acting honors on his shoulders, playing a pathetic orchestra violinist who worships aspiring opera-singer Foster from afar. The girl is unaware that Rains has secretly been financing her music lessons with instructor Leo Carrillo. When he runs out of money, Rains attempts to sell the concerto that he's been working on all his life. Mistakenly believing that his precious concerto has been stolen from him, Rains attacks and kills the music publisher he holds responsible. Terrified, the publisher's mistress throws a pan full of acid into Rains' face. Rains runs screaming into the night, and is not heard from for the next reel or so. Soon afterward, the Paris Opera house is plagued by a series of mysterious accidents. The managers are informed via letter that the "accidents" will continue if Foster is not immediately promoted to leading roles. Only after reigning diva Jane Farrar is drugged into incapacitation is Foster given her big break. Farrar accuses Foster's boyfriend, police inspector Nelson Eddy, of doping her in order to advance Foster's career. Farrar is later strangled, and Eddy is accused of the crime. The culprit is, of course, Rains, who now poses as the masked-and-caped "phantom". Maniacally determined that no one will impede Foster's success, Rains causes a huge chandelier to crash down on the opera audience when Foster fails to appear onstage (she'd been kept from performing by police-chief Edgar Barrier, who hoped in this manner to flush The Phantom out of hiding). A chase through the catacombs below the opera house ensues, with Rains holding Foster prisoner. When Rains briefly lets down his guard, the tremulous Foster removes his mask. It's "yecccch," all right, but nowhere near as frightening as the unmasking scene in the silent Lon Chaney version of Phantom of the Opera. The same can be said for the rest of this 1943 remake, though in fairness it appears as though the film wasn't really designed to scare anyone, but instead to serve as a suspense yarn with musical interludes. Hume Cronyn makes his second film appearance in Phantom in a microscopic role. The huge sets designed for this picture were hastily reused for the 1944 Universal melodrama The Climax, starring Boris Karloff and (again) Susannah Foster. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Ralph Bellamy and Margaret Lindsay, stars of Columbia's "Boston Blackie" series, let their hair down and went "screwball" in the Universal comedy-mystery Meet the Wildcat. Bellamy plays a New York gumshoe on the trail of an art thief. His investigation is confounded by the presence of snoopy girl reporter Lindsay. The two stars spend most of the film double-crossing one another until they put their heads together and get their man. One particular mid-film highlight is Bellamy escaping jail while wearing Margaret's clothes (when he orders her to disrobe, guess what she thinks is in store for her?) Meet the Wildcat was directed with zany efficiency by future Abbott and Costello colleague Arthur Lubin. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide