Anthony Marsh Movies

Joe Machin (William Campbell) is the devil-may-care auto racer with a reputation that doesn't endear him to other racers on or off the track. Joe makes fast time with women, often incurring the wrath of the jilted boyfriends that lose their girls to him. One such malcontent is Stephen Children, a former racer turned author. When Stephen loses his fiancee to the fast moving racer, he brings out his poison pen to write and unflattering expose on Joe. The author tracks the racer, discovering he may have misread Joe when he turns out to be a decent human being that bears little resemblance to his public image. ~ Dan Pavlides, Rovi

This delightful adaptation of Rafael Sabatini's swashbuckling novel stars Stewart Granger as Andre Moreau, an 18th-century French nobleman who is publicly humiliated by the Marquis de Maynes (Mel Ferrer). Challenged to a sword duel by the Marquis, Andre, who knows nothing about fencing, runs away, taking refuge with a theatrical troupe. He hides behind the personality of Scaramouche, a zany clown, and in his spare time romances his sexy leading lady Lenore (Eleanor Parker). Seeking revenge against de Maynes, Andre takes fencing lessons from swordmaster Doutreval (John Dehner). It isn't long before Andre has developed a reputation as the finest swordsman in France--which, as intended, arouses the ire of de Maynes. The two opponents face off in a deserted theater; the ensuing sword duel, running nearly seven minutes, is one of the best ever committed to film. Before he can plunge his blade into de Maynes, Andre discovers that he and the Marquis are half-brothers. The two men instantly forget their differences, and Andre's honor is fully restored. He ends up not in the arms of the sensuous Lenore but with a woman of his own class, Aline de Gavrillac (Janet Leigh)--while a gag ending reveals that Lenore has found herself a new and highly influential boyfriend. Lewis Stone, star of the 1923 silent version of Scaramouche, appears in the remake in the supporting role of Georges de Valmorin. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

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, Rovi

Kitty is the "Pygmalion" legend, 18th century style. London aristocrat Ray Milland takes it upon himself to make a lady of a guttersnipe (Paulette Goddard, complete with a cockney accent not to be believed). Milland and fellow conspirator Constance Collier aren't bothering with the girl out of the goodness of their hearts. They want their protegee to marry a wealthy nobleman (Reginald Owen), then divide the wealth between them. Based on the novel by Rosamund Marshall, Kitty ends with the heroine in the arms of the penitent Milland. The opulent sets and costumes assembled for this film were too good for Paramount to waste; most of them popped up one year later in the Bob Hope vehicle Monsieur Beaucaire. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Though Henry Fonda is top-billed in The Immortal Sergeant, the title character is played by Thomas Mitchell. Set in the Libyan Desert during WW2, the story finds tough but compassionate British Eighth Army sergeant Kelly (Thomas Mitchell) in charge of a 14-man patrol. Kelly's corporal is Colin Spence (Henry Fonda), a shy and retiring Canadian. When the squad becomes lost in the desert, it is the guidance and example of Kelly that brings the timid Spence out of his shell. Kelly ultimately dies, leaving Spence in charge of the surviving soldiers. Applying the lessons learned from the Immortal Sergeant, Spence is able to lead his comrades back to allied lines, becoming a hero in the process. Second-billed Maureen O'Hara plays Spence's sweetheart in a series of gratuitous but effective flashbacks. Immortal Sergeant was based on the novel by John Brophy. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

No relation to the 1932 W.C. Fields comedy of the same name, Million Dollar Legs is a college picture starring most of Paramount's younger contract players. The college is in financial trouble, so the students pin their hopes on a race horse--the "million dollar legs" of the title. As it turns out, the college's salvation rests with its rowing team, captained by Jackie Coogan (who was once upon a time a leading-man type). At the time Million Dollar Legs was made, Coogan was married to his costar, Betty Grable. A few years later, Grable would parlay her own lovely legs into a career worth several millions. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The "Three Mesquiteers"--John Wayne, Ray Corrigan and Max Terhune--find themselves in the modern-day west in Overland Stage Raiders. The "stages" being raided are actually Greyhound buses, bearing gold shipments to the east. Airborne hijackers steal the gold, but the Mesquiteers vanquish the crooks, then parachute to safety. Overland Stage Raiders represents John Wayne's second appearance in Republic's Three Mesquiteers series, but never mind that. The film's leading lady was former silent star and future cult- figure Louise Brooks, the hauntingly beautiful leading lady of G.W. Pabst's Diary of a Lost Girl and Pandora's Box, here making her last film appearance. When asked in later years why she would accept such an unprepossessing project, the no-nonsense Brooks replied that she needed the three hundred dollars. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Director George Cukor and producer Irving G. Thalberg's adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, a lavish production of Shakespeare's tale about two star-crossed lovers, is extremely well-produced and acted. In fact, it is so well-done, that it is easy to forget that Leslie Howard and Norma Shearer are too old to be playing the title characters. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, Rovi