Dewey Robinson Movies

Originally slated for release by Eagle Lion, Skipalong Rosenbloom purchased by United Artists -- who gave it a cursory theatrical release before selling the film to television. As it turned out, TV was the appropriate medium for this heavy-handed satire of video westerns. Former boxing champ Maxie Rosenbloom plays a lampooned variation of Hopalong Cassidy, with all the standard western cliches in evidence. "Skipalong" Rosenbloom is depicted as the star of a heavily commercialized TV kiddie show, presided over by a smarmy announcer. The plot proper finds "Skipalong" at odds with western bad guy Butcher Baer, played by Rosenbloom's onetime ring opponent Max Baer. Others in the cast are Jackie Coogan, Fuzzy Knight and Hillary Brooke, who seem to be having fun with the dreadful material foisted upon them. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In Storm Warning, Ginger Rogers stars as a model visiting relatives in an unnamed small town. She happens to witness the beating death of a man at the hands of the KKK. Rogers soon discovers that the whole town is controlled by this vigilante group, and that her loutish brother-in-law Steve Cochran is one of the group's members. D.A. Ronald W. Reagan is the man who breaks the stranglehold of the hooded terrorists--through the simple expedient of walking into one of their meetings and calmly identifying each of them by name. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Lizabeth Scott and Diana Lynn are both effectively cast against type in Paid in Full. Scott plays Jane Langley, the spectacularly self-sacrificial older sister of selfish, reckless Nancy Langley (Lynn). Though she is in love with Bill Prentice (Robert Cummings), Jane gives him up to Nancy. And when Jane accidently causes the death of Nancy's child, she vows to makes amends by the most direct means possible. What follows is within the Production Code guidelines of the era -- but just barely. An unabashed "woman's picture" (that's what they called them back in 1949), Paid in Full doesn't always play well today, since viewers might be tempted to yell "Get real, Lizabeth!" at the screen. Still, it worked beautifully for its original target audience, especially those who'd read the factual Reader's Digest article upon which it was based. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The Buccaneer's Girl of the title, played by Yvonne de Carlo, is Deborah McCoy, an entertainer who's been around a bit. While visiting New Orleans, Deborah falls in love with aristocratic Frederick Baptiste (Philip Friend), who turns out to be a pirate. Baptiste is basically a decent fellow: his piracy is aimed exclusively at the crooked shipowner who destroyed his father. Deborah is a bit more mercenary, hoping to marry into wealth by posing as a high-born lady. By the seventh reel, however, she's perfectly content to settle down with the raffish Baptiste. Though played tongue-in-cheek, Buccaneer's Girl never resorts to "camp": it invites the audience to laugh with the film, rather than at it. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Though At War With the Army was the third film appearance of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, it was the team's first starring vehicle. A pattern is set herein for all the Martin-Lewis flicks to follow: Martin plays a self-assured romeo, forever bursting into song, while Lewis is a hopeless screw-up unable to perform the simplest task without wreaking havoc (in this one, he can't even operate a Coke machine properly). Mike Kellin repeats his Broadway role as M&L's tough topkick while Polly Bergen makes a very brief appearance. Because it has lapsed into public domain, At War with the Army is one of the most available of the Martin and Lewis films. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

William "One Take" Beaudine warms the director's chair for Lippert Pictures' Tough Assignment. The film is essentially a combination western and contemporary crime yarn, with Don Barry cast as Dan Reilly, a frontier journalist. With the help of his wife Margie (Marjorie Steele), Dan tries to get the goods on a gang of clever cattle rustlers. The main villain is played by Steve Brodie, while his henchmen are played by Marc Lawrence and Ben Welden -- an intimidating lineup indeed. Comedy relief is supplied by Sid Melton, soon to become a "regular" in Lippert's low-budgeters of the 1950s. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The title couple and their enormous brood of bumpkins made their movie debut in the film version of Betty McDonald's humorous book The Egg and I (1947) where they appeared as supporting characters. Audiences found them funny and so the characters got their own long-running series of B movies. Ma and Pa Kettle is the first in that series and centers on the exploits of the impoverished hayseed family after Pa wins a contest by writing a jim-dandy slogan for a tobacco company. The Kettle's prize is a brand new, ultra modern, fully automated home. It's a good thing too, for Ma, Pa and their 15 kids were about to get booted out of their previous wreck of a home. Of course the film is at its funniest when the Kettles are trying to figure out how to operate their fancy new digs. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Western star William Elliot always insisted that his idol was silent-film cowboy William S. Hart. Elliot's Hellfire, then, can be seen as his tribute to the 1916 Bill Hart classic Hell's Hinges. Elliot plays a hard-bitten frontier gambler whose life is saved by a preacher. When the preacher dies as a result, Elliot vows to mend his ways. He becomes a minister himself, planning to finish constructing a church that his predecessor had started. To finance this project, he hopes to collect the reward on female outlaw Marie Windsor. She resists all attempts to bring her to justice, but after a climactic shoot-out with the rest of the criminal element in town, the wounded Windsor repents her sins and agrees to turn herself in. Hellfire was written by Dorrell and Stuart E. McGowan, who later collaborated on the long-running TV anthology Death Valley Days. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Yvonne DeCarlo dons 19th century "adventuress" garb once more in River Lady. This time she's a 19th century gambling queen, in charge of a profitable Mississippi riverboat casino. DeCarlo falls in love with logger Rod Cameron; when he won't succumb to her charms, she tries to buy his affections by setting up a logging empire. DeCarlo's partner Dan Duryea is also fascinated with her, but he's his usual slimy self and hasn't got a chance of either winning the girl or surviving to the fade-out. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

On the run from the cops, bootleggers Frankie Madison (Burt Lancaster) and Noll Turner (Kirk Douglas), find themselves racing up to an enormous roadblock. The two split up, agreeing that if one was caught, the other would operate their nightclub and save half the profits for his partner. The unlucky Madison is caught and when released from prison 14 years later, he returns to claim his money. Turner, never intending to split the money, tries to distract Madison by offering him the affections of his girlfriend Kay (Lizabeth Scott). Madison's brother Dave (Wendell Corey), Turner's accountant, help's Turner by doctoring the books to hide the lucrative profits of the club. Madison is enraged that he has been swindled by his friend and his brother, and Dave finally helps Madison get his revenge and Kay's love. Byron Haskin, in his directorial debut, brings a post-war idealism into the ordinarily cynical noir sensibility. Wendell Corey is particularly fine as Madison's cowardly brother, who manages to redeem himself, and Lizabeth Scott is touching as the vulnerable, romantic Kay. ~ Linda Rasmussen, Rovi

Joe Palooka, Ham Fisher's famed comic-strip fighter, risks his life to clear the name of his manager in this series entry. In this episode, Palooka is blinded during a fight. Although surgery restores his vision, the doctors strongly caution him not to fight again for at least a year. Meanwhile Knobby Walsh, his manager, begins managing another heavyweight fighter who gets himself mixed up with gamblers. To save his manager's good name, Palooka disregards the doctors' advice and reenters the ring. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Absent from films since 1938 (except as producer of a brace of RKO Radio features), silent-screen comedy favorite Harold Lloyd returned before the cameras in The Sin of Harold Diddlebock. The project began as a labor of love between Lloyd and the brilliant, innovative producer/writer/director Preston Sturges. Though these two comedy geniuses eventually had a stylistic falling out, resulting in an uneven, spasmodically dreary film, on the whole Harold Diddlebock is well worth having. Sturges cleverly opens the picture with the final reel of Lloyd's silent classic The Freshman(1925), in which the drudge of the college football team makes good and scores the winning touchdown. The story proper begins in the locker room, where football hero Harold Diddlebock (Lloyd, looking three decades younger than his 53 years) is impulsively offered a job by banker J.E. Wagglebury (Raymond Walburn). Taking his place at his new desk and festooning his walls with inspirational homilies, Harold starts to work, supremely confident that he's poised on the brink of bigger things. Twenty-three years pass: In 1946, a weary, stoop-shouldered Harold is still at the same desk at the same job, his dreams of success but a dim memory. Summarily fired by the pompous Wagglebury ("You have not only ceased to go forward, you have gone backward"), Harold collects his final paycheck, cleans out his desk, and bids farewell to office girl Miss Otis (Frances Ramsden), all of whose older sisters had previously been Harold's sweethearts. Wandering aimlessly on the street with his severance pay in hand, Harold is spotted by a dessicated street hustler named Wormy (Jimmy Conlin), who inveigles the newly fired clerk to join him at a nearby bar. Informed that Harold has never taken a drink in his life, the bartender (Edgar Kennedy) lights up and declares, "Sir, you rouse the artist in me!" With great ceremonial flourish, the bartender concocts a potent beverage called the Diddlebock. Harold takes one sip of the brew, lets out a yell, and immediately loses all the inhibitions that have kept him from advancing himself in the past two decades. With Wormy in tow, Harold goes on a wild spending and carousing spree, totally losing track of an entire day-and-a-half.

At the end of his revelry, the hung-over Harold is awakened by his sister (Margaret Hamilton), who informs him that he's bought a garish new wardrobe, a ten-gallon hat, and goodness knows what else. He soon finds out what else when he ventures into the street and is informed that he's bought a horse-drawn cab (with driver!) -- and a circus, complete with hungry lions. Quickly formulating a plan to get rid of the circus at a substantial profit, Harold decides to elicit bids from the town's various bankers, bringing Jackie the Lion along with him so that the bank guards won't stop him at the door. All of this leads to a wild recreation of Lloyd's skyscraper-teetering gags from his silent days, a noisy episode at the local jail, and a romantic tête-à-tête with Miss Otis, who reveals at the very end how Harold really spent his "missing" Wednesday! Though it tested well upon its first release, Sin of Harold Diddlebock was abruptly withdrawn from circulation by its co-producer Howard R. Hughes, who spent four years reediting and sometimes reshooting the film before finally releasing it through RKO as Mad Wednesday. Both this version and the original Sin of Harold Diddlebock still exist; while the earlier version is undeniably richer in comic invention and characterization, the shortened Mad Wednesday works better in front of an audience. Neither version completely fulfills the potential of its premise, however. Though not to be missed, this final Harold Lloyd vehicle pales in comparison with his vintage silent comedies. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi