Fritz Leiber Movies

Devil's Doorway was the first of many top-rank westerns directed by Anthony Mann. RobertTaylor is cast against type as a Native American named Lance Poole. Returning to his people's land after the Civil War, Poole discovers that the Indians are being victimized and persecuted--and, thanks to machinations of crooked lawyer Verne Coolan (Louis Calhern), it's all legal. Unable to turn to the Law to protect his tribesmen, Lance becomes what white men call a "renegade." Devil's Doorway was the vanguard of a new western cycle of the early 1950s, wherein the Indians were the good guys and the whites the villains. Had it been made 30 years later, it is likely that the star would have been a genuine Native American, rather than a white matinee idol in "redface." ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Samson and Delilah is Cecil B. DeMille's characteristically expansive retelling of the events found in the Old Testament passages of Judges 13-16. Victor Mature plays Samson, the superstrong young Danite. Samson aspires to marry Philistine noblewoman Semadar (Angela Lansbury), but she is killed when her people attack Samson as a blood enemy. Seeking revenge, Semadar's younger sister Delilah (Hedy Lamarr) woos Samson in hopes of discovering the secret of his strength, thus enabling her to destroy him. When she learns that his source of his virility is his long hair, Delilah plies Samson with drink, then does gives him the Old Testament equivalent of a buzzcut while he snores away. She delivers the helpless Samson to the Philistines, ordering that he be put to work as a slave. Blinded and humiliated by his enemies, Samson is a sorry shell of his former self. Ultimately, Samson's hair grows back, thus setting the stage for the rousing climax wherein Samson literally brings down the house upon the wayward Philistines. Hedy Lamarr is pretty hopeless as Delilah, but Victor Mature is surprisingly good as Samson, even when mouthing such idiotic lines as "That's all right. It's only a young lion". Even better is George Sanders as The Saran of Gaza, who wisely opts to underplay his florid villainy. The spectacular climax to Samson and Delilah allows us to forget such dubious highlights as Samson's struggle with a distressing phony lion and the tedious cat-and-mouse romantic scenes. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

East Indian actor Sabu goes through his usual paces in Columbia's Song of India. Sabu plays Ramdar, prince of a jungle tribe, who comes into conflict with Indian maharajah Gopal (Turhan Bey). At the behest of the British government, Gopal has been trapping wild animals and selling them to zoos. Ramdar finds this offensive, and does his utmost to free the jungle beasts and undermine Gopal's activities. Leading lady Gail Russell plays Princess Tara, Gopal's beloved, whom Ramdar kidnaps and holds hostage to keep the maharajah at bay. Appropriately, the film's musical score is adapted from Rimsky-Korsakov's "Song of India." Original prints were released in Sepiatone. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A group of archeologists is sent to the American Southwest to investigate a tribe's claims that they are descendants of the ancient Aztecs. However, a gang of crooks are trying to discredit the claim by dressing up as Indians to commit crimes. Hopalong Cassidy (William Boyd) must rescue the archeologist and catch the criminals. ~ John Bush, Rovi

The relatively relaxed movie censorship in the postwar years enabled Columbia to produce To the Ends of the Earth, a film which dealt with the previously taboo subject of drug smuggling. T-man Dick Powell is sent to several foreign locales to track down an Opium ring. The villains are subversives (Red? Fascist?) who plan to take over the world by hooking everyone on the "hard stuff." The film is chock full of mysterious European and Oriental types like Vladimir Sokoloff, Ludwig Donath and Fritz Leiber; even leading lady Signe Hasso speaks with an accent, which in 1948 was enough to immediately put her under suspicion. Lending credence to this sprawling adventure yarn is the presence of several actual treasury agents in bit parts, including commissioner Harry J. Anslinger. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

"Von Clausewitz said that war is the logical extension of diplomacy; Monsieur Verdoux feels that murder is the logical extension of business." With his controversial "comedy of murders" Monsieur Verdoux, Charles Chaplin makes his final, definitive break with the Little Tramp character that had brought him fame and fortune. Verdoux (Chaplin), a mild-mannered family man of pre-war France, has hit upon a novel method of supporting his loved ones. He periodically heads out of town, assumes an alias, marries a foolish, wealthy woman, then murders her for the insurance money. He does this thirteen times with success, but wife #14, brassy Martha Raye, proves impossible to kill (nor does she ever suspect what Verdoux has in mind for her). A subplot develops when Verdoux, planning to test a new poison, chooses streetwalker Marilyn Nash as his guinea pig. She tells him so sad a life story that Verdoux takes pity on her, gives her some money, and sends her on her way. Years later, the widowed and impoverished Verdoux meets Nash once more; now she is the mistress of a munitions magnate. This ironic twist sets the stage for the finale, when Verdoux, finally arrested for his crimes and on trial for his life, gently argues in his own defense that he is an "amateur" by comparison to those profiteers who build weapons for war. "It's all business. One murder makes a villain. Millions, a hero. Numbers sanctify..." Sentenced to death, Verdoux remains calmly philosophical to the end. As the condemned man walks to the guillotine, a priest prays for God to have mercy on Verdoux's soul. "Why not?" replies Verdoux jauntily. "After all, it belongs to him." The original idea of Monsieur Verdoux originated with Orson Welles, who'd wanted to make a picture about notorious modern "Bluebeard" Landru. Welles wanted to cast Chaplin in the lead; Chaplin liked the idea, but preferred to direct himself, as he'd been doing since 1914. It is possible that Chaplin might have gotten away with the audacious notion of presenting a cold-blood murderer as a sympathetic, almost lovable figure. Alas, Monsieur Verdoux was released at a time when Chaplin was under a political cloud for his allegedly Communistic philosophy; too, it came out shortly after a well-publicized paternity suit involving Chaplin and Joan Barry. Picketed in several communities, banned outright in others, Monsieur Verdoux was Chaplin's first financial flop. Today, it can be seen to be years ahead of its time in terms of concept, even though the execution is old-fashioned and occasionally wearisome. Monsieur Verdoux doesn't always hit the bull's-eye, but it remains one of Charles Chaplin's most fascinating projects. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Bob Regan (Edmond O'Brien) -- a small-time attorney from the wrong side of the tracks who nonetheless has a lot of dedication -- is representing a vegetable pushcart owner (Tito Vuolo) in a damage suit against multi-millionaire Andrew Colby (Vincent Price). It seems Colby's car wrecked the man's cart, and he and his attorneys have been too busy running the world (or Colby's world) to deal with the case, so Regan barges right into the millionaire's office. Professing to be impressed with Regan's tenacity on behalf of his client, Colby offers to hire him, for a lot more money than he is making or ever stood to make, but not as an attorney -- rather, as a bodyguard/troubleshooter. It seems that Colby's been receiving threats lately, and he likes the way Regan looks after his clients. To aid him in his new job, Colby also secures a gun and permit for his new employee. Regan is so surprised at this whole turn of events in his life that he accepts the offer for the chance to finally get in on some the big money he sees around him. He's given entrée to Colby's upper-crust world, including his huge New York townhouse and all that goes with it, never smelling a rat. This is mostly because, apart from the money he's suddenly earning and traveling in the midst of, he's distracted by the presence of Colby's personal secretary, Noel Faraday (Ella Raines) -- about as pretty, intelligent, and seductive a female as Regan has ever seen, and who seems mutually intrigued by his rather earthy and plain-spoken presence in the Colby organization. Regan is a fresh dose of working-class honesty amid the elegance, affectation, and duplicity that oozes out of Colby's world, and on Regan's side of it he can hardly keep his hands off of her.

However, during Regan's first night on the job, a shot rings out from upstairs and he finds Colby in a struggle with an intruder carrying a gun -- and Regan shoots the man dead. The stranger turns out to be Leopold Kroner (Fritz Leiber), Colby's one-time business associate, who just finished a ten-year stretch for embezzlement of a million dollars. The threats seemed to come from Kroner, and there was a gun in his hand when Regan shot him, but that's not good enough for Lieutenant Damico of the NYPD; it's all a little too convenient that Colby's one-time partner gets himself killed that way, at the hands of some lawyer playing detective whose gun permit barely has the ink dry. Damico makes no secret of his doubts to Regan, or of the fact that he would like nothing more than to pull his friend in on a murder rap just for being a prize chump, mostly because he doesn't like murder and can't really see Regan as being as stupid as he seems. It turns out that he is just about that stupid, and is always a step behind Colby in trying to unravel the mystery of what really happened and how Kroner came to be in the house. Even Noel, for all of her intelligence and education, can't keep ahead of her employer's machinations; even as they dig deeper, more and more evidence gets planted implicating them both in a conspiracy, and before they can spring their trap, Damico is there ready to put the cuffs on both of them. But that's when matters get really interesting, as Damico begins to prove that if Regan isn't half as bright as he ought to be, the police lieutenant is a lot smarter than he looks or his job description calls for. ~ Bruce Eder, Rovi

In this low-budget adventure, a gangster and his spouse are stranded on a lonely tropical island. They soon discover that a band of castaway Nazis also inhabit the place. Trouble erupts when uranium is discovered. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

In this comedy, Paul Muni plays a recently murdered gangster who finds himself roasting in Hell. Muni can't believe that he's in for All Eternity and keeps trying to "bust out," which brings him to the attention of the Head Man (Claude Rains), who calls himself Nick. Nick strikes a bargain with Muni: There's a troublesome honest judge on Earth who's been shipping too many souls to Hell; if Muni will take over the judge's body and begin performing bad deeds, Nick will set him free. Muni readily agrees, eager to settle the score with the ex-partner (Hardie Albright) who bumped him off. Once he "becomes" the judge, however, Muni discovers that he is utterly incapable of performing any misdeeds--and when he falls in love with the judge's fiancee (Anne Baxter), Muni becomes determined to wriggle out of his agreement. Angel on My Shoulder is based on a story by Harry Segall, whose previous play Heaven Can Wait was filmed as Here Comes Mr. Jordan, also with Claude Rains. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Masterfully directed by Fritz Lang, Scarlet Street is a bleak film in which an ordinary man succumbs first to vice and then to murder. Christopher Cross (Edward G. Robinson) is a lonely man married to a nagging wife. Painting is the only thing that brings him joy. Cross meets Kitty (Joan Bennett) who, believing him to be a famous painter, begins an affair with him. Encouraged by her lover, con man Johnny Prince (Dan Duryea) Kitty persuades Cross to embezzle money from his employer in order to pay for her lavish apartment. In that apartment, happy for the first time in his life, Cross paints Kitty's picture. Johnny then pretends that Kitty painted to portrait, which has won great critical acclaim. Finally realizing he has been manipulated, Cross kills Kitty, loses his job, and because his name has been stolen by Kitty, is unable to paint. He suffers a mental breakdown as the film ends, haunted by guilt. Kitty and Johnny are two of the most amoral and casual villains in the history of film noir, both like predatory animals completely without conscience. Milton Krasner's photography is excellent in its use of stark black-and-white to convey psychological states. Fritz Lang is unparalleled in his ability to convey the desperation of hapless, naïve victims in a cruelly realistic world. ~ Linda Rasmussen, Rovi

After several years' dormancy, the "Cisco Kid" western-film series returned to the screen with Monogram's The Cisco Kid Returns. Duncan Renaldo, actually Rumanian, starred as the Mexican "Robin Hood of the Old West", with Martin Garralaga as his corpulent sidekick Pancho. In the tradition of 20th Century-Fox's earlier "Cisco" efforts, our hero comes to the aid of an orphaned child, clears himself of a kidnapping charge, and proves that a "solid citizen" is in fact a criminal mastermind. After a trio of Cisco Kid films, Renaldo left the series, to be replaced by Gilbert Roland; but when time came in 1950 for a Cisco Kid TV series, Renaldo was back in the saddle again, this time with Leo Carrillo as Pancho. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

On the eve of her wedding to Ramu (Jon Hall), the beautiful Tollea (Maria Montez) is spirited away from her tranquil South Sea island to the mysterious, forbidden place of her birth, Cobra Island. Ramu follows and, with help from his young-but-not-too-bright friend Kado (Sabu) and their chimp Coco, manages to land on the island and avoid capture, which would mean death. It turns out that Tollea is the rightful high priestess of Cobra Island, the first born of two twin daughters of the earlier priestess. Tollea was not immune to the venom of the king cobra, however, so she was spirited away from the island as an infant to avoid her unnecessary death. Now her grandmother, the Queen (Mary Nash), has secured her return. Tollea's twin sister, Naja (also played by Montez), has turned cruel, greedy, and ambitious, and is killing, torturing, and tormenting her people and perverting their religion; Naja must be deposed, hopefully before the volcano on the far side of the island registers too loud an objection to her blasphemies. But Naja -- who is wanton enough to want Ramu for her own pleasure -- and her confederate, the evil, ambitious Martok (Edgar Barrier), don't plan on leaving quietly.

Meanwhile, Ramu has to keep himself and Kado alive and decide if he's willing to give up the woman that he loves so that she can save her people; Tollea must choose between love and duty, fate and her birthright. One of the most ridiculously and unselfconsciously campy costume adventure movies of its era, Cobra Woman was apparently a lot of fun to work on and a relief from the reality of the Second World War for audiences in 1944. The script, co-authored by Richard Brooks a long time before he wrote The Brick Foxhole, much less directed Blackboard Jungle or made In Cold Blood or Lord Jim, is incredibly sloppy, the mix of harem dancers and ridiculous prop snakes is bizarre, and some of the worst choreography of its era doesn't help -- and yet it all hangs together, somehow, as entertainment. Director Robert Siodmak reportedly liked it, and as a refugee from the Nazis, working on it still beat the fate he'd fled in Germany. The movie is also alleged to be the primary inspiration for Jack Smith's Flaming Creatures -- which starred female impersonator Mario Montez -- and looking at it in the 21st century, one wonders if it was ever seen by Edward D. Wood Jr.; not only does the production sort of anticipate (albeit on a much higher level and budget) his work in the adventure genre, but the script seems to contain the essence of inept moments that he would elevate to an art of sorts. And one can just imagine Wood, as a young marine recruit, watching Cobra Woman eagerly and "learning" all the wrong lessons from its writing and production. But, like the best of Wood's movies -- only more so -- Cobra Woman is still great fun of the "guilty pleasure" sort. ~ Bruce Eder, Rovi

Strange Confession was the fourth in Universal's "Inner Sanctum" B-picture series, all of which starred Lon Chaney Jr. Chaney plays an idealistic writer who allows himself to be used by a politically ambitious publishing mogul (J. Carroll Naish). Not only does the publisher distort the sociological content of Chaney's works for his own purposes, but he also steals the writer's wife (Brenda Joyce). Chaney exacts a grisly revenge and turns himself over to the police. This is a scene-for-scene remake of the 1934 Claude Rains vehicle, The Man who Reclaimed His Head, which in turn was based on a play by Jean Bart. Universal was forced to completely withdraw the remake from theatrical and TV distribution when the studio realized that it no longer controlled the rights to the original Bart play. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi