John Farrell MacDonald Movies

After producing, writing and directing one hit film after another, Preston Sturges finally misfired with the biopic The Great Moment. Sturges was always fascinated with the saga of W.T.G. Morton, the 19th century Boston dentist who, after inventing the first truly effective anesthesia, was forced to give up his proprietary interest in the invention and ended up dying in poverty and obscurity. Joel McCrea stars as Morton, a young oral surgeon determined to find a painless method for exracting teeth-which he does, virtually by accident. Betty Field costars as Morton's faithful spouse Elizabeth, while Sturges regular William Demarest offers a gem of a performance as Morton's best friend-guinea pig Eben Frost (his persistence upon recalling his first meeting with Morton -- "I was in excru-ci-ating pain"-is one of the film's highlights). Completed in 1942, The Great Moment was taken out of Sturges' hands and heavily re-edited and re-arranged by the Paramount executives: as a result, the story is confusing and downright incomprehensible at times (the film's present ending, for example, originally occured in the middle of the film). The result was varying runtimes for the film of 80, 83, 87, and 90 minutes. An enormous box-office flop in 1944, the film proved to be the beginning of the end for Sturges, who was never able to completely recover from its failure. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

True to Life stars Dick Powell as a radio writer in search of saleable material. He comes up with a weekly sitcom about a typical American family. To soak up inspiration, he hangs around the household of waitress Mary Martin and her parents (Ernest Truex, Mabel Paige), transcribing their conversations for use on the air. When Mary listens to the radio and discovers that Powell's attentions towards her are strictly professional, she runs to the arms of Franchot Tone. But Powell convinces her that his ardor is genuine--while musical fans are disappointed that only one song has been sung in the whole of True to Life. Devotees of two-reel comedies will note the presence of veteran second bananas Billy Bletcher and Bud Jamison as two of the "family members" in Dick Powell's radio series. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Whatever poor Bela Lugosi may have done in a past life, the man did not deserve The Ape Man, arguably the worst of his Monogram horror clunkers. Viewed today, it seems that screenwriter Barney Sarecky and infamous director William Beaudine (whose nickname "One Shot" was earned helming movies like this) were out to humiliate the proud Hungarian actor at every opportunity. They had the man, who once turned down the Frankenstein monster because he found the role demeaning, walk about the entire film in a manner that was supposed to appear simian but ended up looking merely foolish. They gave him an Anglo-Saxon name, Dr. James Brewster, without bothering to explain that familiar Middle European accent. And they provided him with a spiritualist sister (Minerva Urecal), whose character name, Agatha, Lugosi of course was incapable of pronouncing. To compound matters, they wrote in a mysterious character named Zippo (Ralph Littlefield), who, in a silly porkpie hat, drifted in and out of the narrative being annoyingly mysterious, only to reveal himself in the end as "the author of the story." "Screwy idea, wasn't it?" he says blithely putting the final nail in Lugosi's coffin.

Lugosi's Dr. Brewster had experimented with a spinal serum derived from the fluids of a gorilla. The dedicated medico naturally tested the serum on himself and now appears incapable of walking upright, in dire need of a shave. Needless to say, the only antidote is human spinal fluid (which Lugosi pronounces "fluit"). Accompanied by screaming headlines such as "Ape man killer still on the loose!" Dr. Brewster and his gorilla henchman (Emil VanHorn, whose simian suit paid his rent for years) stalk the dark streets for human prey. A couple of wisecracking reporters (Wallace Ford and Louise Currie, both surprisingly tolerable) briefly wander into harm's way, knocking each other over the head with prop vases. Happily, for unexplained reasons, the gorilla suddenly turns on his master and breaks his neck, ending the nightmare for all concerned, including, one would imagine, Lugosi himself. Typical for cheap Monogram, Lugosi stayed in his ape-like makeup throughout, the expected transformation scene never materializing. The critics were understandably severe -- "Monogram's writer didn't have to wipe the dust from Bela Lugosi's Ape Man, he had to take the mold off," chuckled the Daily News -- but as horror-film historian Tom Weaver so succinctly put it: "Despite their ruinous effects on Lugosi's career, had these Monogram pictures been made without him, they would not merit discussion today." ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

A true "guilty pleasure" crime melodrama with horror movie touches, the low-budget The Living Ghost stars future Academy award-winner James Dunn as Nick Trayne, a retired detective hired to look into the mysterious disappearance of banker Walter Craig. Working with Craig's pert secretary Billie Hilton (Joan Woodbury), Nick is questioning Craig's alarmingly suspicious friends and relatives when the missing banker (Gus Glassmire) suddenly turns up in a strange, zombie-like state. According to Dr. Bruhling (Lawrence Grant), Craig is suffering from a paralyzed cerebral cortex, a state that may render him dangerous and that is in all likelihood induced by someone else. And, sure enough, Nick has barely begun to understand what the good doctor is suggesting when Craig is found hovering over the dead body of his brother-in-law, George Phillips (J. Arthur Young). But is the cataleptic banker actually a killer or is someone even more dangerous behind the murder? The trail leads Nick and Billie to a nearby shack where strange experiments have recently been conducted and, in time, to the real culprit. The Living Ghost was released on videocassette as A Walking Nightmare, and a nightmare it certainly is. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

Among the few wartime comedies that are still genuinely funny today, Monogram's One Thrilling Night (aka Horace Takes Over). stars John Beal and Wanda McKay as a somewhat dimwitted newlywed couple honeymooning in New York. Beal hopes to spend some "quality time" with Wanda before he's to report for Army induction the next morning, but this hardly seems likely. The couple's tiny hotel room is constantly invaded by pesky strangers, the more contentious of which is criminal Tom Neal, who's looking for a cache of loot hidden by Pierce Lynden. Despite the well-meaning efforts of house detective Warren Hymer, poor Beal is kidnapped twice before the night is over. Engaging in its silliness, One Thrilling Night is a special favorite of B-picture enthusiasts: When one such movie buff asked John Beal why his character continually hangs a "Do Not Disturb" inside his hotel suite, the actor replied, "Because he's stupid." ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In this murder mystery, a re-working of The Sphinx, a distract attorney is determined to prove that the community's most respected member, a deaf-mute philanthropist, is a cold-blooded killer. When the prominent fellow is acquitted, the disgusted DA quits his job and begins investigating the murder himself. His investigation takes an unexpected turn when he learns the truth about the killing--the suspect is both guilty and not guilty. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

Cecil B. DeMille's Technicolor historical spectacle Reap the Wild Wind was to have starred Gary Cooper, but Cooper's prior commitment to Goldwyn's Pride of the Yankees compelled DeMille to recast the leading role with John Wayne. The film, set in the mid-19th century, centers around Key West, Florida, where piracy reigns unchecked. Wayne plays the captain of a salvage business, working on behalf of Raymond Massey to rescue valuables from the merchant ships wrecked by pirates. During one expedition, Wayne is rescued from drowning by Paulette Goddard, the hoydenish manager of a rival salvage firm. Goddard arranges for Wayne to go to work for her boss, Ray Milland, and a romantic rivalry ensues. Later on, Goddard's cousin Susan Hayward is lost at sea when her ship is attacked by pirates. Wayne is accused of engineering the wreck, thanks to the duplicity of Massey, the real brains of the pirate operation. Wayne and Milland both don deep-sea diving gear and swim to the bottom in search of evidence. When Milland is attacked by an octopus, Wayne saves his rival's life at the expense of his own. Massey is exposed, and Milland wins Goddard. Essentially a standard maritime meller, Reap the Wild Wind takes on the veneer of importance thanks to DeMille's epic treatment of the material. Though competition is fierce, Ray Milland steals the show with a truly offbeat characterization (he even gets to indulge in a little ventriloquism!) ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Riders of the Timberline was the 38th entry in the "Hopalong Cassidy" western series. To keep things from getting stale, star William Boyd and producer Harry Sherman began plunking Hoppy into non-western environs in the early 1940s (including, at one point, the Arabian desert!) Timberline takes place in the Great North Woods, where Cassidy and his cohorts Brad King and Andy Clyde help a campful of lumberjacks. There was plenty of opportunity for the usual riding and gunplay, but this time around the bad guys were dressed in furs and hipboots rather than buckskin. The direction of Riders of the Timberline was in the expert hands of western maestro Lesley Selander. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In Preston Sturges' classic comedy of Depression-era America, filmmaker John L. Sullivan (Joel McCrea), fed up with directing profitable comedies like "Ants in Your Plants of 1939," is consumed with the desire to make a serious social statement in his upcoming film, "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?" Unable to function in the rarefied atmosphere of Hollywood, Sullivan decides to hit the road, disguised as a tramp, and touch base with the "real" people of America. But Sullivan's studio transforms his odyssey into a publicity stunt, providing the would-be nomad with a luxury van, complete with butler (Robert Greig) and valet (Eric Blore). Advised by his servants that the poor resent having the rich intrude upon them, Sullivan escapes his retinue and continues his travels incognito. En route, he meets a down-and-out failed actress (Veronica Lake). Experiencing firsthand the scroungy existence of real-life hoboes, Sullivan returns to Hollywood full of bleeding-heart fervor. After first arranging for the girl's screen test, he heads for the railyards, intending to improve the lot of the local rail-riders and bindlestiffs by handing out ten thousand dollars in five-dollar bills. Instead, Sullivan is coldcocked by a tramp, who steals Sullivan's clothes and identification. When the tramp is run over by a speeding train, the world at large is convinced that the great John L. Sullivan is dead. Meanwhile, the dazed Sullivan, dressed like a bum with no identification on his person, is arrested and put to work on a brutal Southern chain gang. With its almost Shakespearean combination of uproarious comedy and grim tragedy, Sullivan's Travels is Sturges' masterpiece and one of the finest movies about movies ever made. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

It's hard to believe that Wild Bill Hickok Rides is a Warner Bros. picture-and harder still to believe that Constance Bennett deigned to star in the film. Wavering uncomfortably between comedy and drama, this patchwork western features Bruce Cabot as Wild Bill Hickok, who on this occasion goes on the warpath against despotic land baron Harry Farrel (Warren William). When Hickok's rancher friend is lynched by Farrel's flunkeys, the fur-and bullets-really start to fly. Constance Bennett does her best to convincingly portray gambling-hall proprietress Belle Andrews, but it's an impossibly written role. Critic Bosley Crowther of the New York Times summed the whole thing up in a terse single sentence: "Will be remembered as the one in which a Bennett sister slummed. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

The Great Lie is Soap Opera Deluxe from Bette Davis' peak period at Warner Bros. Davis plays a socialite who is madly in love with playboy aviator George Brent. Brilliant but bitchy concert pianist Mary Astor (who won a well-deserved Academy Award for her chain-smoking histrionics) is also in love with Brent, going so far as to marry him in a secret ceremony. When it appears that the marriage may be invalid, Astor is too devoted to her art to take the necessary corrective steps, so Brent returns to Davis, who is too proud to be picked up on the rebound. While flying an important government mission, Brent disappears and is presumed killed. Davis meets Astor, who had been impregnated by Brent before the question of their marriage's validity came up. Since her first marriage had been in secret, Astor is terrified that her career will be ruined by the sudden appearance of an unexplained child, so Davis, out of love for Brent, agrees to claim the baby as her own. When Brent, who of course has not been killed after all, resurfaces, Astor demands that the child be returned to her, hoping that the child will forever bind Brent to her. Davis tells Brent the whole sad story, whereupon our long-absent hero declares his love for Davis and his willingness to give up the child to Astor. At the last moment, Astor returns the kid to Davis and Brent, and the film ends on a splendiferous musical chord courtesy of overworked Warner Bros. composer Max Steiner. In lesser hands, The Great Lie would have been outrageous hokum, but somehow Bette Davis and Mary Astor (and, to a lesser extent, George Brent) make you want to believe that the story has some resemblance to Real Life. The film was based on the novel January Heights by Polan Blanks, which was not governed by Hollywood censorship and thus didn't have to bend over backwards to "legitimize" the baby in the story. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Paramount's "Zane Grey" series continued rolling into the 1940s with Knights of the Range. Taking a break from the studio's Hopalong Cassidy pictures, Russell Hayden stars as Renn Frayne, a college-educated youth who finds more than he bargained for when he heads westward. After a terrifying run-in with an outlaw gang run by a bloke named Gamecock (Morris Ankrum), Frayne aligns himself with heroine Holly Ripple (Jean Parker), whose father's cattle ranch is in danger of falling into the hands of the villains. Victor Jory manages to play on both sides of the fence as wily gambler Malcolm Lascallie. Knights of the Range was directed by Lesley Selander, who like star Hayden was an alumnus of the Hopalong Cassidy unit. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide