Sheldon Jett Movies

The tendency is to scoff at Macao as just another example of Josef von Sternberg's late-career exercises in exoticism; true, it has its problems, including a weak plot and a slightly hasty pace, but it is still an extraordinary film for its time and its personnel. The real sparkplug for the movie is Jane Russell as out-of-work singer Julie Benson, who inadvertently gets the plot rolling when she ends up in a cabin with a lout who won't take no for an answer. Her plight, and a flying shoe, brings in laconic, slightly mysterious traveler Nick Cochran (Robert Mitchum), who seems to have something to hide and manages to get his wallet (including passport) lifted by the opportunistic Julie. Crossing paths with them is Lawrence Trumble (William Bendix), a good-natured lunkhead salesman coming to Macao for the gambling. And gambling, among other less legal activities, is what local hood Halloran (Brad Dexter) is all about. He's just hot enough in international crime circles to attract the authorities, who can't touch him in Macao; he's already had one New York detective killed and expects another to arrive, and he's keeping an eye on any suspicious, unfamiliar Westerners arriving, which leads him to Julie, Cochran, and Trumble. Halloran has other, obvious plans for Julie, especially when obliging corrupt police chief Thomas Gomez points her to a singing job at his club, much to the distress of his one-time girlfriend (Gloria Grahame); he dismisses Trumble as a lovable clown. But Nick has cop written all over him and is hiding something. All of the pieces fit together neatly in the end, and everyone is keeping at least one secret that will surprise viewers.

What makes Macao truly special are the performances, beginning with Jane Russell, who, with the possible exception of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, was never better. Her ample physical assets are on display as usual, but she also never gave a sharper, more naturalistic or purely sensual acting performance. Russell had clearly found her talent and her center with this film. Whether she's shooting a suspicious glance at larcenous police chief Thomas Gomez, singing a sultry torch song in a seductive white strapless outfit, or striding forward in an exquisite dolly-out shot, she commands every scene in which she appears. And it's not just her imposing physique that does it, but a boldness of nuance; Russell had learned a lot since The Outlaw. Brad Dexter, the odd man out in The Magnificent Seven, makes an excellent villain, like a more pathological version of Steve Cochran. Meanwhile, Robert Mitchum, in his portrayal of a neurotic, perhaps shell-shocked veteran, shows a vulnerable side that seldom came out so convincingly or touchingly in his RKO movies; and even William Bendix found a new wrinkle to his screen persona as the seemingly larcenous commercial traveler. The audience will be beguiled and surprised throughout this movie -- an underrated noir classic -- and not just by the stories that unravel. The last line and wrap shot create an amazingly lusty, censor-challenging denouement for an early '50s film. ~ Bruce Eder, All Movie Guide

Al Goddard, (Alan Ladd) special investigator for the U.S. post office, is assigned to collar two criminals who've murdered a postal detective. Goddard must first locate the only witness to the crime, attractive young nun, Sister Augustine (Phyllis Calvert). Posing as a crook, Goddard gains the confidence of the murderers' boss Earl Boettiger (Paul Stewart), who has worked out a scheme to defraud the post office of one million dollars. Once they've tumbled to the deception, the crooks take Goddard and the nun prisoner, leading to a fight to the finish in a lonely industrial district. Appointment with Danger tends to draw chuckles rather than shivers nowadays, thanks to the casting of future Dragnet co-stars Jack Webb and Harry Morgan as the murderers -- and as icing to the cake, viewers are treated to a scene in which Webb bumps off Morgan! As a whole, the film, the last of Alan Ladd's series of film noir, is uneven and generally unsuccessful. However, it contains some crisp, tough dialogue and some terrific action sequences which make it worthwhile. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The "bandit" of the title is notorious 18th-century British highwayman Dick Turpin, herein portrayed by Louis Hayward. The lady is the high-born Joyce Greene (Patricia Medina), who becomes Turpin's bride. Motivated by Irish patriotism and revenge against the man who hanged his father, Turpin cuts quite a swath through the British countryside, relieving wealthy passengers of their riches. For his wife's sake, Turpin briefly gives up his life of crime, but not for long. Upon learning that his wife is slated to be hanged as his accomplice, Turpin embarks upon a 200-mile ride from St.Alban's to York, knowing full well that by rescuing his bride, he will forfeit his own life. Well produced (especially for a Columbia costumer of the era), Lady and the Bandit is based on the Alfred Noyes poem Dick Turpin's Ride--and not on Noyes' The Highwayman as claimed by previous sources. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Heavenly Days was the last of three RKO Radio film vehicles for the popular radio duo of Fibber McGee and Molly (aka Jim and Marion Jordan). Unlike their first two films, which were cacophonous, plotless musical farces, this one actually has a coherent storyline and not a little "heart appeal." Self-styled expert on everything Fibber McGee takes it upon himself to leave the safe environs of Wistful Vista to go to Washington DC, intending to present himself as the "common man" before the US Congress. Naturally, Fibber's wife Molly goes along for the ride, if only to keep her husband from making a fool of himself. Fibber's actions are given credibility when pollster George Gallup (played by Don Douglas) selects the McGees as Mr. and Mrs. Average Man (or Person). While at large in DC, the McGees also become involved with a group of wide-eyed war orphans. The film's highlight is an impromptu musical interlude with Fibber, Molly, and a group of GIs, played by the King's Men Quartet (regulars on the Fibber McGee and Molly radio show). Perhaps because it took itself a bit too seriously, Heavenly Days failed to match the box-office success of RKO's earlier Fibber-and-Molly efforts, posting a loss of $205,000. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

As for the opening reels, the principal motivating factor is money. After a deliberately confusing pre-credit sequence (not explained until the film's punch line), Tom Jeffers (Joel McCrea) and Gerry Jeffers (Claudette Colbert) are married. "And so they lived happily ever after," exults a title card, "...or did they?" Well, they didn't. After five years of marriage, Tom hasn't raised a dime with his pie-in-the-sky inventions. Using the sort of logic common to Sturges heroines, Gerry decides that the only way to help her husband is to divorce him, marry a wealthy man, and use the second husband's money to finance Tom's schemes. Borrowing money from a generous self-made business mogul known only as the Wienie King (Robert Dudley), Gerry boards a train to Palm Beach, FL, where all the rich folk go. En route, she is "adopted" by the Ale & Quail Club, a group of perpetually drunken millionaires whose idea of a good time is to shoot their rifles at everything that moves (among the club members are such Sturges regulars as William Demarest, Robert Warwick, Jimmy Conlin, Robert Greig, Jack Norton, and Dewey Robinson). Taking refuge from this rowdy crew, Gerry makes the acquaintance of likeable stuffed shirt John D. Hackensacker III (Rudy Vallee), who happens to be one of the wealthiest men in the Western Hemisphere. While Gerry spoons with Hackensacker in Palm Beach, the confused Tom (remember him?) dallies with Hackensacker's man-crazy sister, Princess Centimillia (Mary Astor). How all this straightens itself out is better seen than described, which is pretty much the case whenever one discusses Sturges' singular work, and The Palm Beach Story is vintage Sturges with one side-splitting sequence after another. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide