Hal Long Movies

Fans of William "Wild Bill" Elliot vastly prefer his B westerns to his big-budget Republic "specials", though the latter films have their adherents. In The Fabulous Texan, Elliot emulates his idol William S. Hart in the role of ex-Confederate officer Jim McWade. Returning to Texas to find his home turf under the jurisdiction of corrupt, despotic carpetbaggers, McWade shoots it out with the authorities after his father is slain. Forced to flee to the mountains with his war buddy John Wesley Barker (John Carroll), McWade vows revenge on those bluecoated thugs who've ravaged his beloved Texas. Eventually, McWade realizes that he'd be better off cooperating with the Federal government to rid his state of its plunderers, but Barker comes to enjoy the life of an outlaw, and refuses to surrender his independence. Thus it comes to pass that McWade is obliged to hunt down his old friend, thereby restoring Law and Order to Texas. Catherine McLeod costars as Alice Sharp, the woman who will become McWade's wife-- and, in old age, the torchbearer of his memory. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

That Night in Rio is a musical remake of 1934's Folies Bergère. Don Ameche plays a dual role as a middle-aged Brazilian industrialist, and a young Rio de Janeiro cabaret performer who looks just like him. The highlight of the entertainer's act is an imitation of the industrialist, which impresses the latter's associates. When the industrialist is unable to attend an important business conference, his lieutenants persuade the entertainer to take his place. The entertainer falls in love with the industrialist's wife (Alice Faye), treating her so gallantly that when the real husband returns, he decides to be more attentive to and appreciative of his spouse. Carmen Miranda is supposed to be playing the entertainer's jealous girlfriend, but she's really around just to let loose with such below-the-Equator hits as "Chica, Chica, Boom Chic." The Rudolph Lothar/Hans Adler play on which That Night in Rio was based was given a third go round in 1951 as the Danny Kaye vehicle On the Riviera. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

While Cesar Romero could usually be relied upon to ladle out the charm in his film roles, Romero's handful of appearances as O. Henry's "Cisco Kid" were disturbingly cold and distant. In Viva Cisco Kid, the "Robin Hood of the Old West" and his sidekick Pancho (Chris-Pin Martin) save a stagecoach from being held up. Cisco falls in love with pretty passenger Jean Rogers, little knowing that the girl's father (Minor Watson) is one of the masterminds behind the robbery. Actually papa is under the evil influence of bigwig Stanley Fields, who intends to kill everyone associated with him and escape with the booty. Cisco prevents Fields from further indiscretions and wins the girl in the bargain. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Twentieth Century-Fox borrowed Spencer Tracy, from MGM for the sprawling (yet economically produced) historical drama Stanley and Livingstone. Tracy plays 19th-century American journalist Henry M. Stanley, an adventure-prone sort who is assigned by his editor (Henry Hull) to locate lost Scottish missionary David Livingstone (Sir Cedric Hardwicke) in darkest Africa. There are perils aplenty before the inevitable meeting in the clearing, capped by the immortal courtesy "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?" Though seriously ill, Livingstone is content ministering to the natives, declining Stanley's invitation to return home. Upon arriving back to civilization, Stanley tells his story of Dr. Livingstone, but without tangible proof, he is accused of perpetrating a fraud. Only at the very last moment is Stanley vindicated; at this point, he decides to go back to Africa to continue the late Dr. Livingstone's work. This didn't happen in real life, nor is the studio-dictated romance between Spencer Tracy and Nancy Kelly completely copacetic with the facts; outside of this, Stanley and Livingstone comes pretty close to living up to Fox's ad-campaign slogan "The Most Heroic Exploit the World Has Known." ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Nancy Steele was the baby daughter of a munitions tycoon who was kidnapped by an antiwar activist who did it to protest the magnate's support of WW I. This drama provides a sympathetic portrait of the kidnapper who leaves the baby with two close friend who assume it's his and raise her. The activist later gets arrested during a fight and sentenced to two years in prison that become a life sentence after he is framed during a failed escape. One night, he sleeps in his cell when his cellmate overhears the sleeping protestor talking about the notorious kidnapping. When the protestor if finally released, he immediately visits the girl, whom he regards as his daughter. She thinks he is her father too. Together, the two go to New York, where he gets a job working as a gardener for her real father. Trouble comes in the form of his blackmailing cellmate and in the end, the protestor must make a difficult decision involving the fate of his daughter and himself. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

This French-language version of the 1935 Hollywood musical Folies Bergere, filmed cuncurrently using the same sets and production crew, retains the original star (Maurice Chevalier) and big-scale production numbers. It also follows substantially the same plot: A nightclub entertainer (Chevalier), is hired to pose as his look-alike (also Chevalier), a prominent aviation tycoon. The masquerade causes consternation for the entertainer's girlfriend, who of course has no idea what's going on, and for the tycoon's wife, who can't understand why her cold-fish husband has suddenly become so warm and demonstrative. Beyond the obvious language change, the major differences between the two Folies Bergeres are found in their supporting casts: for example, Natalie Paley plays the tycoon's spouse role played by Merle Oberon, while Sim Viva, as the girlfriend, fills the dancing shoes of the English-language version's Ann Sothern. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Roland Brown's Blood Money (1933) has lost none of its ability to entertain and startle over the seven decades since its release. The title refers to the business of affable, ambitious bail bondsman (and politically-connected grifter) Bill Bailey (George Bancroft), who, in the course of his work, crosses paths with every kind of offender there is, from first-time defendants to career criminals. Among the latter is Drury Darling (Chick Chandler), the brother of Bailey's paramour, nightclub owner Ruby Darling (Judith Anderson). Bailey is popular enough in the criminal world, over his providing the means for gang members to stay in circulation while awaiting trial, and he knows how to spread the money around to make the wheels of government run more smoothly (and not run over any of the speakeasies, casinos, clip-joints, and other enterprises of the gangs to which he is closest). Then, one day, he meets Elaine Talbert (Frances Dee), a thrill-seeking socialite whose penchant for excitement has ratcheted up from shoplifting in the better stores to fast cars and fast men. Bailey doesn't quite know what to make of her -- she's attractive enough, and drawn to him, but her lust for illicit and dangerous diversions runs counter to the common sense that he applies to his life, every place but where women are concerned. His quasi-legal and extra-legal maneuvering is fun for a while, but what she really wants, as she tells Bailey, is a man who will "take charge" and dominate her, physically and in every other way. Eventually, she tires of the middle-aged Bailey and gravitates toward Drury Darling, whose exploits as a bank robber, willing to fight the law head on, are more in line with some of the excitement that she craves. When Darling is arrested, he depends upon her to pass along the money that Bailey needs to bail him out, and that's when the smoothly operating life that Bailey has arranged for himself grinds to a halt. A cache of worthless bonds, a war within the underworld itself, and an assassination attempt on Bailey are just part of the double-dealing and blood-letting that ensues, climaxing with game of pool involving a booby-trapped eight ball (a variation of a famous sequence from Keaton's Sherlock Jr., later re-used by the Three Stooges in I'll Never Heil Again). And the finale for Elaine Talbert is a sequence that might not even have gotten past the politically-correct censors of the 1980's. ~ Bruce Eder, Rovi