Rosella Towne Movies

Mike Hallett (Barton MacLaine) is A Gentle Gangster in this satisfactory Republic programmer. A big shot during prohibition, Hallett quit the rackets back in 1923 when his future wife Ann (Molly Lamont) threatened to leave him. Twenty years later, Hallett and his former cohorts Steve (Dick Wessel) and Joe (Ray Teal) are living peaceful, respectable lives in a small town. But when gangster Hugo (Jack LaRue) tries to exert pressure on the local businessmen, the three former beer barons join forces to thwart the intruder. Originally 57 minutes, A Gentle Gangster was cut to 54 and then 48 minutes for TV release. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

No, No, Nanette was the second film version of the popular Otto Harbach-Vincent Youmans Broadway musical. Though slightly updated, the basic plot remains the same, with heroine Nanette (Anna Neagle) entering into a financial arrangement whereby she must answer "No" to every question during a 24-hour period. It's all for the sake of her rogueish uncle (Roland Young), who's heavily in debt thanks to a gaggle of gold-digging chorines. Nanette's task is complicated by her romantic entanglements involving an artist (Richard Carlson) and a flashy theatrical producer (Victor Mature). The songs include "I Want to Be Happy", "Tea for Two" and the title number. Unlike the previous Neagle-RKO Radio-Herbert Wilcox collaboration Irene, No, No, Nanette fizzled at the box office. For many years, the film was withdrawn from circulation because of Warner Bros.' 1950 remake, the Doris Day vehicle Tea for Two. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

This "Three Mesquiteers" western entry stars Robert Livingston as Stony Brooke, Raymond Hatton as Rusty Joslin and Duncan Renaldo as Rico Rinaldo. Livingston also does double duty as the villain of the piece, a desperado known as The Laredo Kid. Working undercover for the Texas Rangers, Stony Brooke poses as the recently deceased Laredo Kid to get the goods on the latter's gang. The film's action highlight is a leap from a runaway stagecoach over a perilous cliff and into a raging stream-a bit of derring-do that popped up as stock footage in many a future Republic western. Handling the leading-lady duties is Rosella Towne, formerly with Warner Bros. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Code of the Secret Service was the second of Warner Bros. "Brass Bancroft" series, starring Ronald Reagan as troubleshooting federal operative Bancroft. This time, Brass and his wisecracking partner Gabby (Eddie Foy Jr., brother of producer Bryan Foy) take on a particularly vicious gang of counterfeiters. Our heroes end up in Mexico, where they undergo a series of wild and wooly adventures the like of which were seldom seen outside of the Republic serials. According to Reagan, he was obliged to do his own stunts in the film because the budget couldn't afford a double; it certainly looks that way. Entertaining in its own dizzy fashion. Code of the Secret Service is proof positive that Reagan could carry a film with the right material. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

It is no secret that Bette Davis and Errol Flynn were at each other's throats throughout the filming of The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex. Boiled down to essentials: Davis felt that Flynn was unprofessional, while Flynn thought that Davis took herself too damned seriously. Besides, Davis had wanted Laurence Olivier to play the Earl of Essex opposite her Queen Elizabeth I. She was forced to compromise on this point, but refused to allow Flynn proxy top billing via his suggestion that the film be retitled The Knight and the Lady. The finished product, a lavish Technicolor costumer allowing full scope to Davis' histrionics and Flynn's derring-do, betrays little of the backstage hostilities (though Flynn does seem uncomfortably hammy in his scenes with Davis). Adapted by Norman Reilly Raine and Aeneas McKenzie from Maxwell Anderson's blank-verse play Elizabeth the Queen (which served as the film's reissue title), the story concerns the tempestuous relationship between the middle-aged Elizabeth and the ambitious Essex. At one point, the Queen intends to marry Essex and relinquish her throne, until she realizes that his plans for advancement would ultimately prove disastrous for England. When afforded the opportunity to execute Essex for treason, she reluctantly signs his death warrant. Minutes before his final walk to the chopping block, Elizabeth begs Essex to ask for a pardon. But Essex, fully aware that his warlike policies will only resurface if he is permitted to live, refuses to accept the Queen's mercy, and goes off to meet his doom. Olivia de Havilland is wasted in the role of a lady-in-waiting who carries a torch for Essex. If the scenes of Essex' triumphant return to London after winning the battle of Cadiz seem familiar, it is because they were reused as stock footage in Warner Bros.' The Adventures of Don Juan (1949) and The Story of Mankind (1957). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Kay Francis was anxious to complete her Warner Bros. contract when she agreed to appear in this lower-berth drama. Francis plays a financially strapped aviatrix who enters an air race to pay for her brother's operation. Friendly mechanic William Gargan offers to lend Francis his plane, but Gargan's ex-wife Sheila Bromley is also competing in the race. Finally securing an aircraft of her own, Francis goes off into the Wild Blue and wins the prize. The otherwise pedestrian Women in the Wind is given a lift by the sensitive direction of John Farrow, on loan from RKO. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Choreographer Bobby Connolly and prolific screenwriter Crane Wilbur teamed up on the direction of Warner Bros.' The Patient in Room 18. Patric Knowles delivers a delightfully comic performance as Lance, an outwardly normal young man obsessed with detective stories. When his obsession threatens to lapse over into lunacy, Lance is sent to the hospital for a nice long rest. It isn't long before he gets mixed up in a genuine murder mystery, using his second-hand knowhow to solve the case. Up-and-coming Ann Sheridan is quite amusing as Lance's nurse and confidante, while the murderer is played by a fellow who is usually cast as the murder victim. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Once a staple of summer stock and community theatres, Bella and Samuel Spewack's Broadway farce Boy Meets Girl dates rather badly when seen today. The 1938 movie version is also a bit mildewed, though it is saved by the dynamo-like energy of James Cagney and Pat O'Brien. The stars are cast as Robert Law and J.C. Benson, a pair of iconoclastic Hollywood screenwriters based upon Ben Hecht and Charlie McArthur. Cynically declaring that every film can be boiled down to "Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl", Law and Benson drive their studio-executive bosses crazy with their zany irreverence. Their pet target is bigwig C. Elliot Friday (Ralph Bellamy), a delicious take-off of 20th Century-Fox prexy Darryl F. Zanuck. Friday orders the boys to concoct a screenplay for cowboy star Larry Toms (Dick Foran), whose popularity is on the wane. Upon making the acquaintance of pregnant, unmaried waitress Susie (Marie Wilson), Law and Benson hit upon a brilliant scheme: they'll transform Susie's baby into a child star and team the kid with Toms in his latest epic ("based on an original story by William Shakespeare"). Complication piles upon complication, reaching a high point of hilarity when the baby gives Larry Toms the measles. Ronald Reagan appears briefly as a radio announcer covering the Hollywood premiere of Law and Bensen's newest masterpiece. Boy Meets Girl was originally conceived as a Marion Davies vehicle, with the comedy team of Olsen & Johnson playing the screenwriters, but things changed radically (and for the better) when Davies' sponsor William Randolph Hearst huffily pulled his Cosmopolitan Pictures unit off the Warner Bros. lot. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The 1938 filmization of Myron Brinig's novel The Sisters stars Bette Davis, Jane Bryan and Anita Louise as Louise, Grace and Helen Elliot. The daughters of turn-of-the-century druggist Henry Travers and his wife Beulah Bondi, the Elliot girls all meet their future husbands at a 1904 ball in honor of President Teddy Roosevelt. Special emphasis is given the relationship between Louise and reckless, irresponsible newspaperman Frank Medlin (Errol Flynn). Feeling trapped by his marriage, Medlin turns to drink and philandering. When Frank eventually runs off to Singapore, Louise is too proud to hold her husband by informing him that she's pregnant. Caught up in the 1906 San Francisco earthquake (superbly conveyed with a single interior shot of a collapsing apartment), Louise wanders around dazedly until she finds shelter in an Oakland brothel (though it is not so specified). She loses her baby, but is consoled by her employer Ian Hunter, who falls in love with her. The original book ended with Louise giving up her unhappy marriage for a joyous relationship with her boss; the film ends with Louise being reunited with the suddenly sobered Frank (despite the protests of both Bette Davis and Errol Flynn). A prime example of Hollywood Soap Opera, The Sisters also yielded an amusing reel of outtakes, the best of which shows Bette Davis breaking up Errol Flynn by sighing "I've just had a baby in the ladies' room." ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Dick Powell stars as a Brooklynite who becomes a cowboy in spite of himself. Drifting into a small western town, Powell takes the only job available as a ranch hand. He likes to sing in his spare time, which attracts the attention of talent scout Pat O'Brien. Before you can say Gene Autry, Powell is promoted into America's favorite singing cowboy--though he's hard pressed to prove his western skills when the plot situations demand it. Rather condescending in its attitude towards western stars (as non-western movies tended to be in the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s), Cowboy From Brooklyn was another step backward in the (temporarily) fading career of Dick Powell. The only good thing to come out of the film was the song "Ride, Tenderfoot, Ride", which became the leitmotif of many a Warner Bros. cartoon short. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi