Clarence Brown Movies

Although many genre filmmakers have managed to blend horror and humor with great success, movies employing this formula often run the risk of both elements canceling each other out, resulting in a horror comedy that is neither scary nor funny. Alas, Dead Heat is a textbook example of this kind of failure. It details the weird misadventures of a pair of mismatched L.A. cops -- the straitlaced and by-the-book Roger Mortis (Treat Williams) and wisecracking loose cannon Doug Bigelow (muscle-headed Saturday Night Live alum Joe Piscopo). Their quest is to reach the heart of a sinister crime ring that employs indestructible undead henchmen. In a strange twist, their inept handling of the case results in both cops -- first Williams, then Piscopo -- being killed in action and subsequently reanimated in a secret laboratory managed by the barely seen Vincent Price (whose walk-on role is more entertaining than the combined performances of the two leads). The potential for "splatstick" comedy in the mode of Evil Dead 2 or Peter Jackson's Bad Taste is defeated by two major obstacles: first, the painfully unfunny mugging of Piscopo, who was unwisely allowed to ad-lib much of his performance; and second, the MPAA's trimming of several minutes from Steve Johnson's sensational makeup effects in order to avoid the dreaded X rating -- including a clever scene involving a zombie go-go girl played by Linnea Quigley. ~ Cavett Binion, Rovi

Clark Gable's next-to-last MGM film was the Cold War melodrama Never Let Me Go. Filmed in England, the story finds American journalist Philip Sutherland (Gable) desperately trying to retrieve his Russian-ballerina bride Marva Lamarkins (Gene Tierney) from behind the Iron Curtain. Stymied by bureaucracy on both sides, Sutherland attempts to plead his case directly to Soviet bigwig Molotov, in London for a peace conference. When this too fails, Sutherland aligns himself with an Englishman (Richard Haydn) in a similar predicament. Together, the two men formulate a daring escape plan, which could spell instant doom for both their wives and themselves. The Englishman's bride is played by Belita, who unlike Gene Tierney did her own dancing in the ballet scenes. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Plymouth Adventure earned a footnote in film history as the last directorial effort by the prolific Clarence Brown. Otherwise, this colorful re-creation of the Pilgrims' journey to America is a workmanlike job, never inspired but always interesting. Spencer Tracy stars as bull-stubborn Captain Christopher Jones, who intends to guide the Mayflower to its destination come Hell, high water or any other obstacle. Since Jones is spiritually "wed" to his job, the film's romantic angle is handled by Van Johnson as John Alden and Dawn Addams as Patricia Mullen. Gene Tierney is second-billed as Dorothy Bradford, the ill-fated bride of future Plymouth Colony governor William Bradford. Though the film makes several departures from the facts (there's even a villain!), Plymouth Adventure tells its tale professionally and with satisfactory entertainment value. The film earned MGM artisan A. Arnold Gillespie an Academy Award for best special effects. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Arrogant Mike Brannan (Clark Gable) is a famous driver of midget race cars and is the type of man crowds love to hate. He earned his bad-boy image after he is blamed for causing a fatal crash during a race. Wanting to see if all the hoopla is true, tough columnist Regina Forbes (Barbara Stanwyck) tries to interview her, but Mike refuses. Later she watches as he is involved in another deadly crash. Believing he deliberately caused the accident, she rakes him over the coals in her column and this leads to his disbarment from the racing circuit. In order to make ends meet, the disgraced Mike begins driving in a stunt show. Eventually, he earns enough money to allow him to buy a full-sized race car. The film's exciting finale was shot at the Indianapolis Speedway. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

The oft-filmed Frances Hodgson Burnett novel The Secret Garden was given the usual plush MGM treatment in 1949. Tempestuous orphan girl Mary Lennox (Margaret O'Brien) is sent to live with her reclusive, long-widowed uncle Archibald Craven (Herbert Marshall). The embittered Craven has an invalid son named Colin (Dean Stockwell), with whom the troublesome Mary constantly clashes. Her only real friend is neighbor-boy Dickon (Brian Roper). Things soon change after Mary discovers the key to the Craven household's garden, which has been locked up and neglected since the death of Craven's wife. Through the influence of the Secret Garden, Mary learns to think of others rather than herself, Craven drops his curmudgeonly veneer, and Colin's health slowly but steadily improves. In the tradition of The Wizard of Oz, the sequences taking place in the Secret Garden are lensed in Technicolor. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Song of Love is the MGM-ified version of the lives and loves of 19th century musicians Clara Wieck Schumann (Katharine Hepburn), Robert Schumann (Paul Henreid) and Johannes Brahms (Robert Walker, who the previous year had played another composer, Jerome Kern, in Til the Clouds Roll By). Clara gives up her thriving career as a concert pianist to devote herself to her struggling composer husband Robert. Unable to cope with disappointment and failure, Robert dies in an asylum, leaving poor Clara to cope with seven children and mounting debts. At this point, the eminently successful Brahms, who has loved Clara all along, proposes to her, but Clara insists upon going it alone, perpetuating her husband's memory on the concert stage. Also represented in this musical "through the years" pageant is Franz Liszt, played with remarkable understatement by Henry Daniell. Clearly designed to capitalize on the popularity of Columbia's Chopin biopic A Song to Remember, Song of Love is slow and poky at times, though it's fascinating to see Katharine Hepburn at the piano (reportedly, she learned to play enough classical music to get by in the close-up scenes, though her music is dubbed in medium and long shots). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Although National Velvet was the first starring role for 11-year-old Elizabeth Taylor, the early part of the film belongs to Mickey Rooney in the showier role of Mike Taylor, a headstrong English ex-jockey. Soured on life by a serious accident, Mike plans to steal from the country family that has taken him in, but his resolve is weakened by the kindness of young Velvet (Taylor). The two find a common bond in their love of horses. Velvet wins an "unbreakable" horse in a raffle, and enters the animal in the Grand National Sweepstakes. Though Mike is unable to ride the horse, he aids Velvet in her plan to disguise herself as a jockey; she wins the race...but the story isn't over quite yet. Co-starring as Velvet's mother is Anne Revere, who won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her performance. National Velvet is based on the novel by Enid Bagnold. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Author William Saroyan's corn-shucking brand of sentimentality works wonders in this 1943 filmization of his novel. Narrator Ray Collins is dead before the film begins; thus he is able to provide an all-seeing overview of the tiny community of Ithaca, California. The principal character, played by Mickey Rooney, is Collins' son; as the delivery boy for the local telegraph office, Rooney keeps in close contact with virtually every family in town, which results in several comic and poignant moments. Rooney's older brother Van Johnson is in uniform, off fighting World War II; his sister Marcia Hunt is the erstwhile sweetheart of telegraph-office supervisor James Craig. The "circle of life" concept that unifies the anecdotal plotline is best illustrated by the film's final image: after Johnson dies in battle, his best friend, parentless John Craven, is more or less adopted by Collins' family. Reportedly, The Human Comedy was MGM chief executive Louis B. Mayer's favorite film, an apotheosis of Mayer's devotion to "family values." Among the many small-part players populating Human Comedy are Barry Nelson, Robert Mitchum, Don DeFore, Jay Ward (later the producer of Rocky and His Friends) and Carl "Alfalfa" Switzer. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

James Stewart's last Hollywood film before entering military service, Come Live with Me teams Stewart with the hauntingly beautiful Hedy Lamarr. Lamarr plays a wealthy Austrian emigree, in love with a married American publisher. The girl must quickly find an American husband or she'll be deported. Along comes Stewart, an idealistic (and starving) writer given to quoting poetry in moments of crisis. He marries her on a "strictly business" basis...but Love finds a way, especially after Stewart wins fame by writing a story about his companionate marriage. Come Live with Me served as the screen debut of 80-year-old actress Adeline de Walt Reynolds, who as Jimmy Stewart's grandmother launched a twenty year career as everyone's favorite matriarch. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Robert E. Sherwood's Pulitzer Prize-winning play Idiot's Delight starred Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne on Broadway. Set in a lavish alpine hotel bordering an Italian air base, the story throws together several disparate people, each in his or her own way affected by the World War that threatens to erupt at a moment's notice. The only person who doesn't seem to have a political or economic stake in world affairs is Harry Van, a two-bit American entertainer who is stranded in the hotel with his travelling all-girl troupe, "Les Blondes." Harry is convinced that the alluring Irene, the foreign-accented "travelling companion" of munitions tycoon Achille Weber, is actually an American girl with whom he'd had a one-night stand years earlier, but Irene laughs off his insinuations. Eventually, Irene turns to Harry for comfort when Weber proves too disgustingly warmongering for her tastes. When war breaks out and the hotel is targeted for bombing, Harry makes sure that everyone gets to safety; he himself stays behind with Irene, with whom he has fallen in love. The two sing a hymn as the hotel is blown to oblivion. When Idiot's Delight was filmed in 1939, Norma Shearer did her best Lynn Fontanne imitation as Irene, while Clark Gable remained Clark Gable in his interpretation of Harry Van (his song-and-dance rendition of "Puttin' on the Ritz" is a classic of sneering insouciance). The film underwent an extensive "MGM-izing": while the pre-European affair between Harry and Irene is never dramatized in the play, the film shows Harry and Irene commiserating in a long prologue set in a seedy vaudeville house--and, in keeping with censorship restrictions, it is made abundantly clear that, while Harry befriends Irene, he does not sleep with her. The munitions manufacturer, here played by Edward Arnold, is depicted as an aberration, and not representative of "honest" business moguls (many of whom were close personal chums of MGM head Louis B. Mayer). And, while the ending of the play does not tell us whether or not Harry and Irene survive the bombing, the film permits the lovers a sun-streamed happy ending. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Clarence Brown directed this heart-tugging piece of Americana, set during the Civil War era. Walter Huston plays a stern family patriarch, a preacher who thrusts his family into poverty in order to set an example for his parishioners. As a result, his son (James Stewart) grows up to resent him. He looks to travel East and go to medical school, but his father's iron-fisted vow of poverty holds him back from education. Defying the father, his mother (Beulah Bondi) sells off part of her dowry to finance her son's education. The young man travels East and becomes so embroiled in his studies he neglects to stay in contact with his family, returning only when he receives news of his father's death. After father's passing, he goes off to war as a doctor, leaving his mother abandoned back home. Having heard nothing from her son since his departure for the Civil War, mother thinks he may have died and contacts President Lincoln (John Carradine) to investigate his whereabouts. Surprisingly, Lincoln responds to the mother's pleas and seeks to find out about the status of her son. ~ Paul Brenner, Rovi

Magazine publisher Clark Gable is happily married to Myrna Loy. Clark's devoted, super-efficient secretary Jean Harlow may have once harbored a secret desire for her boss, but she's perfectly content with boyfriend James Stewart. Accompanying Gable on a crucial business trip, Jean answers the phone in her boss' suite. Myrna, on the other end of the line, misunderstands, thereby setting the stage for a series of subsequent misunderstandings. As one can see, nothing much really happens in Wife vs. Secretary. The film is a vehicle in every sense of the word, totally reliant on the appeal of its stars. But it works beautifully, and remains as entertaining now as it did sixty years ago. One film historian has wondered what Wife vs. Secretary would have looked like had it been made before the imposition of the production code: would Jean have really had an affair with Clark, thereby giving Myrna something to really worry about? No matter; while it may have been racier, it's not likely the film could have been any more entertaining than it already is. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Playwright Eugene O'Neill's only comedy, Ah, Wilderness! was filmed by MGM in 1935. Impressionable turn-of-the-century lad Eric Linden, whose knowledge of the ways of the world has come from French novels, is anxious to taste life to the fullest. Linden's father Lionel Barrymore sternly advises the boy to be good and be careful, while Barrymore's shiftless, bibulous brother-in-law Wallace Beery (replacing MGM's first choice, W.C. Fields) encourages Linden to get out, get drunk and get...you know what. After a frightening encounter with lady of the evening Helen Flint (a surprisingly frank characterization for a Production Code film), Linden runs home, nursing a monster hangover the next day. The boy eventually accepts the sedate affections of his childhood sweetheart Jean Parker, while a chastened Beery promises to mend his ways--and Barrymore decides to be more of a father and less of an autocrat to his son. Ah, Wilderness would be musicalized (and bowdlerized) by MGM as the 1947 film Summer Holiday. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi