Bob McKenzie Movies

Having drunk his way out of most of the major studios and not a few of the minor ones, cowboy star Ken Maynard had trouble finding work in the 1940s. Independent producer Walt Mattox came to the rescue in 1944 when he cast Maynard opposite young singing cowboy Eddie Dean, veteran comedy relief Max Terhune, and general-purpose actor Rocky Cameron in the cheaply assembled Harmony Trail. The plot concerns the efforts by marshal Cameron to locate a gang of bank robbers. He is given plenty of help in the form of Maynard, Dean and Terhune -- indeed, one observer noted that this was one film in which the good guys outnumbered the bad guys. Peddled on the States' Rights market for several years, Harmony Trail resurfaced in 1947, when Astor Pictures shipped out the film as The White Stallion. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Filmed in two-toned Cinecolor, Romance of the West was the second of PRC's western vehicles for singing cowboy Eddie Dean. Our hero is cast as a government agent, bound and determined to prevent an Indian war. The villains are a gang of outlaws who are fomenting discord between the Indians and the white settlers for their own gain. The plan is to have both sides wipe each other out, so that the crooks can move in and claim the silver-rich land. Emmet Lynn, Dean's comedy relief, would be replaced in later entries by Roscoe Ates, all for the better. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Faced with the challenge of writing a screenplay based on the life of fabulously wealthy, fabulously successful composer Cole Porter, one Hollywood wag came up with a potential story angle: "How does the S.O.B. make his second million dollars?" By the time the Porter biopic Night and Day was released, the three-person scriptwriting team still hadn't come up with a compelling storyline, though the film had the decided advantages of star Cary Grant and all that great Porter music. Roughly covering the years 1912 to 1946, the story begins during Porter's undergraduate days at Yale University, where he participated in amateur theatricals under the tutelage of waspish professor Monty Woolley (who plays himself). Though Porter's inherited wealth could have kept him out of WWI, he insists upon signing up as an ambulance driver. While serving in France, he meets nurse Linda Lee (Alexis Smith), who will later become his wife. Focusing his attentions on Broadway and the London stage in the postwar years, Porter pens an unbroken string of hit songs, including "Just One of Those Things," "You're the Top," "I Get a Kick Out of You," "Begin the Beguine," and the title number. The composition of this last-named song is one of the film's giddy highlights, as Porter, inspired by the "drip drip drip" of an outsized rainstorm, runs to the piano and cries "I think I've got it!" The film's dramatic conflict arises when Porter is crippled for life in a polo accident. Refusing to have his legs amputated, he makes an inspiring comeback, even prompting a WWI amputee to remark upon his courage! Corny and unreliable as biography, Night and Day is redeemed by the guest appearances of musical luminaries Mary Martin (doing a spirited if disappointingly demure version of her striptease number "My Heart Belongs to Daddy") and Ginny Simms, the latter cast as an ersatz Ethel Merman named Carole Hill. Jane Wyman, seen as Porter's pre-nuptial sweetheart Gracie Harris, also gets to sing and dance, and quite well indeed. Beset with production problems, not least of which was the ongoing animosity between star Grant and director Michael Curtiz, Night and Day managed to finish filming on schedule, and proved to be an audience favorite -- except for those "in the know" Broadwayites who were bemused over the fact that Cole Porter's well-known homosexuality was necessarily weaned from the screenplay. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this western, the hero fights the bad guys by impersonating the son of a rancher. The outlaws have been making the good landowners pay fake taxes. Not only does the good guy succeed in catching the bad guys, he also catches himself the postmistress. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

In this patriotic two-reel comedy, the Three Stooges are labeled 4-F by the draft board, aiding the war effort instead by becoming farmers. Operating a run down ostrich ranch, the Stooges manage to catch a group of Japanese escapees. Rustic comedians Bob McKenzie and Emmett Lynn joined the Stooges in one of the team's lesser efforts. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

To fully appreciate The More the Merrier, it is important to know that, during WW2, there was an acute housing shortage in Washington DC. This is why elderly Benjamin Dingle (Charles Coburn) is obliged to share a tiny DC apartment with pretty Connie Milligan (Jean Arthur) and handsome Joe Carter (Joel McCrea). After nearly two reels of misunderstandings, the trio becomes accustomed to their curious living arrangement. Joe takes a platonic liking to Connie, but she's engaged to stuffy bureaucrat Charles J. Pendergast (Richard Gaines). Sizing up the situation, foxy Benjamin contrives to bring Connie and Joe together, in spite of themselves. Things get dicey when Joe endeavors to complete a top-secret mission for the Air Force, which leads to all sorts of comic complications and misguided remonstrations. Throughout the film, director George Stevens and the four-man screenwriting staff deliberately tweak the noses of the Hays Office, getting by with any number of censorable offenses by deftly and tastefully sidestepping the obvious. Especially potent is the scene in which Joe tries to seduce Connie by talking about everything except seduction: it's also fun to watch Dingle robustly repeat the word "Damn" over and over, getting away with this breach of censorship because he's quoting Admiral "Damn the Torpedoes" Farragut. An Academy Award went to Charles Coburn, while nominations were bestowed upon Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, George Stevens, the screenwriters, and the film itself. The More the Merrier was remade in 1966 as Walk Don't Run, with Cary Grant, Jim Hutton and Samantha Eggar. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A young buckaroo gallops off after the conniving crooks who framed his bank president daddy for embezzlement. Plenty of western action ensues until justice prevails and the ornery varmints are jailed. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

With Dorothy Arzner in the director's chair, it's no wonder that First Comes Courage has a more feminist slant than most WWII "underground" films. Merle Oberon plays Nicole Larsen, a member of the Norwegian resistance. To obtain important war information, Nicole romances Nazi major Paul Dichter Carl Esmond, enduring the slings and arrows of those villagers unaware of her motives. Her mission is further complicated when she is reunited with British commando Allan Lowell Brian Aherne, with whom she'd had a prewar affair. Forced to choose between love and duty, Nicole makes the only decision possible under the circumstances. First Comes Courage was based on The Commados, a novel by Elliot Arnold. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A well-acted, well-paced entry in the Don "Red" Barry Western series from Republic Pictures, The Sombrero Kid featured the diminutive Barry as Jerry Holden, the apparent son and heir of veteran lawman Tom Holden (Robert Homans). But when Holden Sr. is killed by one of Banker Martin's (Joel Friedkin) gang of claim jumpers, Jerry learns that his real father was Bart Clanton, a notorious bandit killed by Marshal Holden, who then raised the orphaned boy as his own. After accidentally killing one of Martin's men, Taggart (I. Stanford Jolley), in a barroom fight, Jerry becomes a fugitive wanted for murder. He joins a gang led by Smoke (Stuart Hamblen), one of Martin's henchmen, hoping to obtain enough evidence to convict the crooked banker. Along with Tommy Holden Jr. (John James), who has replaced his late father as town marshal, Jerry sets a trap for Mason's weak-willed son, Phillip (Rand Brooks). In a desperate attempt to escape justice, Mason kills Phillip, but is arrested by Jerry. The latter is cleared of all charges and elected sheriff by a grateful citizenry. Country gospel songwriter Stuart Hamblen makes a fine villain in one of his infrequent screen appearances and blonde Lynn Merrick is, as always, an attractive adornment to any "Red" Barry vehicle. Merrick, whose contract was held jointly by Republic and Columbia Pictures, appeared in no less than 16 Barry Westerns, one of the longest runs of any sagebrush heroine. Her "leading man" this time around, however, is John James, not Barry. The Sombrero Kid was filmed at the Walker Ranch at Placerita Canyon, CA, a busy location for low-budget moviemaking from 1931-1955. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

Don "Red" Barry is unjustly accused of being a Missouri Outlaw. The real bad guys are a gang of crooks who've been conning the local merchants and farmers out of their hard-earned dollars. Barry decides to use his bad reputation to his advantage by infiltrating the criminal gang. Our Hero may be small, but he's wiry, as the villains discover to their painful chagrin. Watch for former cowboy star Kermit Maynard, brother of Ken, in a character bit. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Citadel of Crime was the original title of the Republic John Wayne vehicle which eventually emerged as A Man Betrayed (TV title: Wheel of Fortune). Never a studio to let anything go to waste, Republic redirected the cognomen Citadel of Crime to one of their minor but entertaining crime melodramas its original title was Ten Nights in Barroom). Don Ryan's well-honed screenplay unfolds the tale of a gang of mobsters trying to take over the various moonshine operations in the hills of West Virginia. To gain the confidence of the local hillbillies, the crooks send out Cal Fullerton (Robert Armstrong), a former moonshiner who's spent several years in "the rackets," as their advance man. The villains' plans are foiled by handsome revenuer Jim Rogers (Frank Albertson), likewise a true son of the Hills. Slickly produced, Citadel of Crime packs plenty of action in its brief 58 minutes. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Produced and directed by George Sherman, Death Valley Outlaws starred James Cagney-lookalike Donald Barry as Johnny Edwards, a cowboy saving lovely Carolyn Johnson (Lynn Merrick) from a gang of vigilante raiders. When his friend, Bill Weston (Michael Owen), becomes the next target of the vigilante gang, Jim promises the dying boy to avenge him. He does so by infiltrating the gang disguised as an outlaw, learning along the way that the leader is bank president Charles Gifford (Karl Hackett). The latter's right-hand man, Jeff Edwards (Milburn Stone), is Johnny's long-lost brother, but the undercover cowboy can only watch as Jeff is mortally wounded by his boss. Enraged, Johnny rushes to the bank where Gifford and the crooked sheriff (Rex Lease) are in the midst of robbing the store, so to speak. Alerted by local veterinarian Doc Blake (Robert McKenzie) and his African-American servant, Snowflake (Fred Toones), the angry citizenry help Johnny round up the gang. A former producer/director/actor from the silent era, rotund and jovial Robert McKenzie was given several good opportunities to shine in the Red Barry series, which was otherwise without a continuing comic sidekick. Less appealing were several appearances by Toones, who in Death Valley Outlaws was treated more or less in the same vein as Barry's horse, Cyclone, and dog Duke. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

The girl is stenographer Dot Duncan (Lucille Ball); the guy is her boss, stuffy young shipping magnate Stephen Herrick (Edmond O'Brien); and the gob is a brash sailor known as Coffee Cup (George Murphy). Not surprisingly, the plot involves the efforts by the self-effacing Stephen and the self-confident Coffee Cup to woo and win the lovely Dot. And that's about all the "story" there is; the rest of the picture is jam-packed with round-robin comic misunderstandings and wild slapstick setpieces. A Girl, a Guy and a Gob was one of two RKO Radio films produced by silent-screen great Harold Lloyd, who reportedly dropped in on the set from time to time to offer a bit of sage comedy advice (note the "handkerchief" bit utlized by Edmond O'Brien; it had previously done service in Lloyd's own Welcome Danger). Not as big a moneymaker as Harold's starring features of the 1920s, the RKO film nonetheless turned a tidy profit for the studio. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi