Pat O'Malley Movies

Dean Jagger stars as Ed Lindsay, a cranky middle-aged man living in a boarding house with several other old-timers, including his former fiancée Vinnie Brown (Carmen Mathews). Fed up with television, Ed squirrels himself away in his room, where he begins tooling around with the antique radio he's found in the cellar. Before long, he is receiving broadcasts from the 1930s and 1940s -- live broadcasts, not reruns. Having opened a window to the past, Ed desperately tries to correct several mistakes he's made in life. Scripted by Charles Beaumont from a story by OCee Ritch, "Static" was one of six videotaped Twilight Zone episodes and was originally telecast March 10, 1961 (and yes, that voice emanating from Ed's old-time radio does belong to future Hogan's Heroes star Bob Crane). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

One the finest of all Twilight Zone episodes, "Walking Distance" benefits not only from a superb Rod Serling script and a magnificent starring performance by Gig Young, but also from an evocative musical score by Bernard Herrmann (which would be cannibalized many times on subsequent episodes). Young is cast as 35-year-old businessman Martin Sloan, who, while waiting for his car to be repaired, takes a sentimental journey to his home town of Homewood. Gradually, Martin begins to realize that the town has not changed one bit in 25 years: In fact, his parents are still alive, and there's a young boy running around who is the living image of 10-year-old Martin Sloan. Watch for Ron Howard in a three-line bit role. "Walking Distance" was first telecast October 30, 1959. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Don Siegel's classic exercise in psychological science fiction has often been interpreted as a cautionary fable about the blacklisting hysteria of the McCarthy era. It can be read as a political metaphor or enjoyed as a fine low-budget suspense movie, and it works well either way. Kevin McCarthy stars as Miles Bennel, a doctor in the small California community of Santa Mira, where several patients begin reporting that their loved ones don't seem to be themselves lately. They look the same but seem cold, emotionally distant, and somehow unfamiliar. The longer Miles looks into these reports, the more stock he places in them, and in time he makes a shocking discovery: aliens from another world are taking over Santa Mira, one citizen at a time. Emissaries from a distant planet have sent massive seed pods containing creatures that can assume the exact physical likeness of anyone they choose. When Santa Mirans go to sleep, the pod creatures take on the shape of their victims and then destroy their bodies. The aliens may look the same, but they possess no human emotions and, like plants, are concerned only with propagating themselves and eventually subsuming the earth. Needless to say, Miles and his friends are terrified, but since it's hard to tell who's a person and who's a pod, they're at a loss for what to do, especially when it seems that there are increasingly more aliens than humans. Invasion of the Body Snatchers builds tension slowly and steadily, dealing not in the shock of bug-eyed monsters common to other 1950s science-fiction movies but in the unnerving possibility that the enemy is among us -- and impossible to tell from our allies. The ultra-paranoid conclusion of Siegel's original cut was softened by Allied Artists, who added a framing device that suggested help was on the way. This coda was as effective in blunting the film's grim conclusion as giving a Band-Aid to a beheading victim; few films of the era make it more painfully clear that for these people (and maybe for ourselves), there's no turning back and no way home. Keep an eye peeled for a bit part by soon-to-be-legendary Western director Sam Peckinpah, who plays a meter reader and also (uncredited) helped write the screenplay. Based on a novel by Jack Finney, Invasion of the Body Snatchers was remade in 1978 by Philip Kaufman and in 1993 by Abel Ferrara (as Body Snatchers); and its influence can be felt from The Stepford Wives (1975) to The X-Files. ~ Mark Deming, Rovi

"What are you rebelling against?" asks someone. "What've you got?" responds surly, leather-jacketed motorcycle punk Marlon Brando. It comes as a disappointment to discover that The Wild One, the quintessential Brando "rebel" film, is at base a traditional "misunderstood youth vs. the nasty system" effort, with a particularly banal finale. Based on a true incident, the film begins with Brando and his motorcyle gang invading a small town after having been kicked out of a cycle competition (but not before stealing the second-prize trophy). Brando's bikers raise hell all day, but some of the townsfolk are shown to be little better than the invaders. Sheriff Robert Keith, whose daughter (Murphy) has gone fond of Brando, finally responds to the bikers' destructiveness by jailing Lee Marvin, leader of a rival gang. When Marvin's buddies goes on a rampage, Brando exhibits his essential decency by safely escorting the sheriff's daughter out of the melee. The townsfolk misunderstand, assuming that Brando intends to rape the girl. He is attacked by a vigilante mob led by town hothead Ray Teal, who uses this excuse to exercise his own sadistic tendencies. Keith breaks up the mob and suggests that Brando leave; he tries to do so, but another angry response from the mob causes him to inadvertently strike and kill a pedestrian. At the subsequent hearing, the girl rushes to Brando's defense. Though grateful for the unexpected kindness, Brando is constitutionally unable to say "thank you" and rides out of town alone. The image of Marlon Brando astride his Triumph has entered movie folklore, just like King Kong on the Empire State Building or the billow-skirted Marilyn Monroe standing over a subway grating; it's too bad that The Wild One isn't a more worthy vehicle for Brando's talents. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Returning to the Ireland of his birth, director John Ford fashions a irresistable valentine to the "Auld Sod" in The Quiet Man. Irish-American boxer John Wayne, recovering from the trauma of having accidentally killed a man in the ring, arrives in the Irish village where he was born. Hoping to bury his past and settle down to a life of tranquility, Wayne has purchased the home of his birth from wealthy local widow Mildred Natwick, a transaction that has incurred the wrath of pugnacious squire Victor McLaglen, who coveted the property for himself. By and by, Wayne falls in love with McLaglen's beautiful, high-spirited sister Maureen O'Hara. Her insistence that Wayne conduct his courtship in a proper Irish manner-with puckish matchmaker Barry Fitzgerald along for the ride as "chaperone"--is but one obstacle to their future happiness: the other is McLaglen, who spitefully refuses to give his consent to his sister's marriage, or to honor the tradition of paying a dowry to Wayne. Wayne could care less about dowries, but the tradition-bound Maureen refuses to consummate her marriage until McLaglen pays up. Under any other circumstances, Wayne would have punched out the bullying McLaglen long ago, but ever since his tragedy in the ring he has been reluctant to fight. Local priest Ward Bond conspires with several locals to trick McLaglen into paying his due. They intimate that widow Natwick, for whom McLaglen carries a torch, will marry the old brute if he'll give his consent to the marriage and fork over the dowry. But McLaglen finds he's been tricked and the situation remains at a standoff, with the frustrated Wayne locked out of his wife's bedroom. When Maureen accuses him of being a coward and walks out on him, our hero can stand no more. He marches Maureen to McLaglen's home, indicating that he plans to whale the tar out of both brother and sister. As a huge and appreciative crowd gathers the cornered McLaglen truculently tosses the money in Wayne's direction. Big John hands the bills to Maureen, just as she knew he would, and she ceremoniously destroys the money, just as he knew je would. Having proven their love for each other, there is nothing left for Wayne and Maureen to do but head home and perform their nuptual duties. But first there's the matter of giving McLaglen the thrashing he deserves....and it is this spectacular donnybrook, which covers several acres of land and at least two "pit stops" so that the combatants can quench their thirst, which convinces Natwick that the defeated McLaglen is truly worthy of her love (her logic is on a par with everyone else's in the film!) Though it tends to perpetuate the myth that all true Irishmen live only to fight, drink and make love, The Quiet Man is grand and glorious fun, enacted with gusto by a largely Hibernian cast and directed with loving care by a master of his craft. Written by Frank Nugent and graced with a lilting musical score by Victor Young, the film won Oscars for Archie Stout's Technicolor photography and for John Ford's direction-a real coup for "poverty row" Republic Pictures. If you haven't already luxuriated in this wonderful film, be sure to catch in on the tube next St. Patrick's Day. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In his final Durango Kid Western (and final film appearance), Charles Starrett once again played an avenger named Steve, Reynolds this time. Donning his mask once again, Steve comes to the aid of Jock Mahoney, who has been wrongfully accused of murder. The real murderer, as it turns out, is Jock's own lawyer, Gail Kingston (Angela Stevens). As usual, Smiley Burnette is along for the ride to provide comedy relief and a hayseed ditty or two. ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi

Gene Autry stars in the 1951 sagebrusher Whirlwind. In this outing, Autry plays a frontier postal inspector known for his lightning speed in the saddle (hence the title). Travelling incognito, Autry and his sidekick Smiley Burnette endeavor to get the goods on the "respectable" head of an outlaw empire. It isn't fair to give away the identity of the villain, though seasoned moviegoers will be able to solve this little mystery in the first reel. Gail Davis, TV's Annie Oakley, once more shows up as Gene Autry's leading lady in Whirlwind. As a bonus, Autry performs three songs, including the title tune. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Valley of Fire is a fairly gutsy title for this formula Gene Autry western. This time, Autry plays the reform-minded mayor of a wide-open western town. The villain of the piece, Tod Rawlings (Harry Lauter), decides to undermine Gene by convincing a band of disreputable miners to hijack a wagon train which is bringing mail-order brides into the community. Fortunately, the community's "good" miners thwart Rawling's plan and claim the brides for themselves (fear not: the ladies are more than willing to be claimed). One of Rawling's partners in crime is played by Russell Hayden, who only a few months earlier had been the clean-cut hero of Lippert's "Four Star Western" series. Once again, Gene Autry's feminine vis-a-vis in Valley of Fire is Gail Davis, who went on to star in TV's Annie Oakley. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Though the hit song "Mule Train" is most closely associated with Frankie Laine, it was Gene Autry who first sang the tune on film, in a picture titled ... what else? .... Mule Train. This time, Autry plays a federal marshal who comes to the aid of a grizzled old prospector who has been framed for murder. The villain, Sam Brady (Robert Livingston), wants to appropriate the prospector's land, and he isn't particular as to how he achieves that goal. Leading lady Sheila Ryan plays a female sheriff who is on Brady's side at first, but who later realigns herself with Autry. Ryan later became the wife of Pat Buttram, who also appears in Mule Train in his usual role as Gene Autry's comical sidekick. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel by Robert Penn Warren, All the King's Men is a roman à clef inspired by the career of Louisiana governor Huey Long. Broderick Crawford won an Academy Award for his portrayal of Willie Stark, a backwoods Southern lawyer who wins the hearts of his constituents by bucking the corrupt state government. Journalist Jack Burden (John Ireland) is impressed by Willie's seeming sincerity, and aids Stark on the road to political power. Once he's reached the governor's mansion, however, Willie proves himself to be as dishonest and despotic as the crooks whom he's replaced. He also cheats shamelessly on his wife with both his campaign manager (Mercedes McCambridge, another Oscar winner) and with Anne Stanton (Joanne Dru), the sister of idealistic doctor Adam Stanton (Sheppard Strudwick). Fiercely protective of his power, Willie organizes a fascistic police force and arranges for "accidents" to befall those who oppose him; even so, he retains the love of the voters by lowering the poverty level, improving the school system, and financing building projects. Even when Willie all but orchestrates the suicide of Anne's uncle, a highly respected judge (Raymond Greenleaf), those closest to him are unable to escape his power and the charismatic hold he has over people. Stockton, CA, stands in for the unnamed state capitol where most of the film's action occurs. In addition to its Oscars for Crawford and McCambridge, All the King's Men won the Best Picture prize. Warren's novel would later be adapted into a stage play, a TV special, and even an opera. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Gene Autry enjoyed considerable success with his recording of Stan Jones' haunting "Riders in the Sky". He then parlayed this success into a film, which proved to be one of Autry's best postwar efforts. The basic plot concerns Autry's efforts to clear rancher Ralph Lawson (Steve Darrell) of a trumped-up murder charge. The trumper-upper, Rock McCleary, is played by Robert Livingston, a former cowboy star who turned to character roles late in his career. The heroine is played by Gloria Henry, ten years removed from her TV fame as Alice Mitchell in Dennis the Menace. The title song is imaginatively staged by director John English, with a ghostly Tom London riding hard and fast as a montage of moody images play across the screen. So effective was this vignette that Columbia included it in the coming-attractions trailer for Riders in the Sky. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A blend of melodrama and film noir, The Reckless Moment stars Joan Bennett as Lucia Harper, a suburban housewife whose husband is away on business. Her daughter, Bea (Geraldine Brooks), an aspiring artist, has fallen for Ted Darby (Shepperd Strudwick), a shady older man from Los Angeles who claims to be an ex-art dealer. One night, after a secret rendezvous in the Harpers' boathouse that turns into an argument, Bea accidentally kills Darby. When Lucia discovers his body in the morning, she panics and dumps it in the lagoon instead of contacting the police, who would surely charge her daughter with murder. Her problems only increase when a suave Irish gangster named Donnelly (James Mason) shows up with a package of love letters from Bea to Darby, and blackmail on his mind. With her husband out of town, Lucia has no choice but to give in to his demands, and brings him along on a desperate quest to raise the money that takes them from bank to loan office to pawn shop. Along the way, Donnelly seems to develop sympathy -- even affection -- for her. When his boss shows up to pressure him into finishing the job, Donnelly's surprising decision sets up the film's startling climax. The Reckless Moment was remade in 2001 by Scott McGehee and David Seigel as The Deep End. ~ Tom Vick, Rovi

The last of the Richard "The Jaw" Dix films. Dix, the trucking company owner, is pitted against time to discover who murdered a police officer rival of his. He must do so to clear his own name, as the murder was pinned on him. ~ Rovi