James Robbins Movies

In this offbeat comedy - a U.S./Canadian co-production - Patrick (David Hewlett) is an eccentric and socially inept man who lives alone in his parents' rural Washington state house with just his pet dog, Mars, for company. One of the few members of his family who shows much concern for him is his sister Marilyn (Kate Hewlett, David's real life sibling), and he's delighted when she stops by to pay a visit - a little too delighted, as he feels extremely possessive of her on an almost unhealthy level. Marilyn works as a make-up artist on a science fiction television series, and accompanying her is her fiance, the genial actor Ryan (Paul McGillion) -- a cast member on the same series. Despite Ryan's attempts to get off on good footing, Patrick immediately starts scheming and plotting the young man's murder, but he botches the majority of attempts and frequently only succeeds in injuring himself. When Ryan accidentally dies, Patrick realizes that Marilyn will inevitably blame him for it and read the death as deliberate. He buries the body and cooks up some phony reasons for Ryan's disappearance; problem is, the corpse mysteriously keeps getting exhumed - or does it? It isn't quite clear if what is happening is actually happening or if Patrick is merely hallucinating. Leading man David Hewlett made his directorial debut with A Dog's Breakfast, in addition to writing the film's screenplay. ~ Mark Deming, Rovi

Independently (and very cheaply) produced, Bad Boy stars Johnny Downs as the title character, one John Fraser. In truth, John isn't really a bad boy, but he's been led astray by crooked Steve Carson (James Robbins). Somewhat weak-willed, our hero gains inner strength through adversity, and by film's end he has squared himself with the Law and rounded up the actual crooks. Of interest is the fact that Bad Boy is one of the few "mainstream" films to offer a major role to legendary black actor-writer-director Spencer Williams Jr., best known to contemporary viewers as Andrew H. Brown on TV's Amos 'N' Andy. Bad Boy was released in December, 1939, the same week that the decidedly superior Johnny Downs vehicle Laugh it Off also hit the screens. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this boxing drama, a prizefighter spies a young man during a street fight. Deciding that the lad shows promise, he begins training him for the ring. The young man's sister gets romantically involved with the trainer and this creates problems. More trouble ensues when the young man is slated to fight against his trainer. Because his mentor is engaged to his sister, he cannot bring himself to fight him. Finally the trainer enlists the aid of a sportscaster and tricks the young boy into the ring. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Making his debut with Warner Brothers, Henry Fonda plays an apprentice high-voltage lineman working with the no-nonsense, but very experienced Pat O'Brien. Stringing up the high-tension electrical wires on tall metal towers is dangerous work, but from the moment he sees the linemen at work, farm boy Slim (Fonda) knows that this is the job for him. He convinces crew-boss Red Blayd (O'Brien) of this and after heavy-duty training, and the overcoming of a few fears, he starts to work. Tensions arise when Fonda falls in love with Blayd's gal Cally (Margaret Lindsey). Much of the plot was drawn from Tiger Shark (1932). ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Jim Turner (Barton MacLaine) loves "wine, women and horses," though not always in that order. Our hero's revelry is interrupted by his shrill and prudish wife Marjorie (Peggy Bates), who tells him to stay away from the racetrack or she'll walk. Presumably to the cheers of the audience, Turner ultimately dumps her, enjoying a happily-ever-after denouement in the arms of down-to-earth Valerie (Ann Sheridan), who has loved Jim all along, warts and all. Critics looked down their noses at this harmless bit of frivolity, but like most Warner Bros. programmers of the period the film posted a profit. On the strength of its title alone, Wine, Women and Horses was included in a popular 1970s book devoted to the worst films of all time (though one suspects that the authors never bothered to see the picture). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Bette Davis' famous walk-out from her home studio of Warner Bros. may have hurt her financially, but in the long run it paid off with bigger parts in better films. Like many Warners films of the period, Marked Woman was "torn from today's headlines." Specifically, it was inspired by the recent downfall of gangster Lucky Luciano, who at one time controlled all prostitution activities in New York. The ladies herein are euphemistically characterized as "night club hostesses," but when Luciano look-alike Johnny Vanning (Eduardo Cianelli) shows up at a fancy clip-joint to give the girls their marching orders, the audience can tell exactly what's going on. Been-there-done-that hostess Mary (Davis) is no better than she ought to be, though she has a definite code of honor; she stands up to the dictatorial Vanning at every opportunity, fending of his amorous attentions and seeing to it that her "over the hill"colleague Estelle (Mayo Methot) is retained on the gangster's payroll. At the same time, Mary tries to shield her seedy profession from her virginal sister Betty (Jane Bryan), but the girl discovers the truth and becomes a "B"-girl herself, a rash move that results in her death. Previously frightened into silence by periodic beatings from Vanning's goons, Mary and four of her girlfriends become state's witnesses, providing testimony to crusading District Attorney David Graham (Humphrey Bogart, playing a character clearly patterned after Thomas E. Dewey). A last-ditch effort to permanently stifle Mary and her friends fails, and the ladies show up in court to put the noose around Vanning's neck. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi