Silents are Golden: Slapstick By The Sea – 8 Edwardian Comedy Shorts

Slapstick By The Sea: 8 Edwardian Comedy Shorts

The women may not have worn bikinis and the men might not have gone around shirtless, but Edwardians enjoyed a sunny day at the beach just as much as we do today. By the 1910s the best beaches abounded with beautiful resorts, and seaside amusement parks like Coney Island enticed people to spend their free time by the water. Role models like the swimmer Annette Kellerman made swimming increasingly popular for fitness, and soon lighter (but still quite modest) bathing suits were becoming more common.

Naturally, all of this meant that some of our earliest silent comedies would find plenty of trendy material at the beach, whether they focused on water-centric gags, mishaps with goofy swimwear, or flocks of playful Bathing Beauties. Here’s just a few of the many Edwardian comedy shorts set “beside the seaside, by the beautiful sea!”

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8. By the Sad Sea Waves (1917)

By the Sad Sea Waves (1917)
By the Sad Sea Waves (1917)

Filmed around the time his popular “Lonesome Luke” series of 1916-17 was coming to a close, By the Sad Sea Waves features one of Harold Lloyd’s earliest appearances sporting his iconic round glasses. Lloyd plays a beachhound who sees all the girls fawning over a lifeguard and decides he should impersonate one himself. Naturally he’s thrown for a loop when an unfortunate swimmer is in need of saving. Much of this goofy short involves characters running around the beach in old-timey striped bathing suits, throttling each other, flirting with pretty girls and falling into the ocean. It’s a bit of fast-paced slapstick silliness that just might make your day.

7. Hearts and Flowers (1919)

Hearts and Flowers (1919)
Hearts and Flowers (1919)

This two-reel Sennett is an excellent go-to if you want to see his famous Bathing Beauties in their heyday. Ford Sterling, Phylis Haver and Louise Fazenda are the stars, with Ford playing a vain orchestra leader who goes after pretty Phylis while daffy flower girl Fazenda longs for him from afar. Soon everyone heads to the seashore, where Phylis sports a chic bathing suit and joins a group of cheeky Bathing Beauties playing sports on the beach. It’s a great example of how the Beauties were used in these comedies, where they were like a gang of mischievous sprites frequently laughing at the main characters’ blundering.

6. By the Sea (1915)

By the Sea (1915)
By the Sea (1915)

One of Chaplin’s simplest Essanay shorts merely shows him wandering around a seaside resort. His hat, held on with a string to withstand the sea breezes, gets tangled up with another fellow’s hat that’s similarly fastened. They soon lose patience with each other and a battle ensues. Peacemaking efforts in the form of getting ice cream cones lead to another brawl when they can’t decide who gets the honor of paying. Simple indeed, but well-paced with clean, sunny cinematography.

5. Miss Fatty’s Seaside Lovers (1915)

Miss Fatty’s Seaside Lovers (1915)
Miss Fatty’s Seaside Lovers (1915)

During his time at Keystone audiences always got a kick out of Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle in drag, so the studio decided to really amp up the laughs and have him play the noticeably burly daughter of a “mothball magnate.” They arrive at a resort where three flirts immediately start vying for the “buxom heiress.” The action soon moves to the beach, with Arbuckle wearing a loud striped bathing suit with striped bloomers and a parasol. It’s all good, silly fun, and Arbuckle seems to be having a ball.

4. Neptune’s Naughty Daughter (1917)

Neptune’s Naughty Daughter (1917)
Neptune’s Naughty Daughter (1917)

With a waddling walk and hair piled high on top of her head, Alice Howell was a popular slapstick comedienne who looked like an early prototype of Lucille Ball. In Neptune’s Naughty Daughter she plays the underappreciated daughter of a boorish fisherman. She tries to make friends on the beach but gets rejected, but then she meets a young sailor and they fall for each other. Unfortunately the menacing Captain Brawn also wants to win her affections, and she gets kidnapped and taken to his ship. It’s a quick-moving short with some wonderfully cartoony gags.

3. The Water Nymph (1912)

The Water Nymph (1912)
The Water Nymph (1912)

This little split-reeler, one of the Keystone Film Company’s very first releases, is credited with kicking off a certain famous trend in silent comedies. It starred Mabel Normand, Mack Sennett as Mabel’s love interest and Ford Sterling as Mack’s father. When everyone heads to the beach the young couple decide it would be really funny to have Mabel “vamp” the father, who evidently hasn’t met her yet–a prank which works a little too well. The real excuse to work a beach into the plot, of course, was to show Normand in a one-piece black bathing suit (with matching tights) performing several diving tricks. Legend has it that the popularity of this short gave Sennett the seed of the idea for his famous Bathing Beauties.

2. Coney Island (1917)

Coney Island (1917)
Coney Island (1917)

After Arbuckle left Keystone he started his own company, Comique…and hired the legendary Buster Keaton as one of his supporting players. The wonderful Coney Island, filmed on location, is one of the many gems the two appeared in together. The “one thing leads to another” plot shows Buster, Arbuckle, and the wiry Al St. John vying for Alice Mann’s affections. It’s hard to resist the sight of Al and Buster weaving their way along the “Witching Waves” or Roscoe and Alice barreling down the “Shoot the Chutes”–and of course, Roscoe includes a few funny scenes where he has to don a woman’s bathing suit.

1. The Mystery of the Leaping Fish (1916)

The Mystery of the Leaping Fish (1916)
Douglas Fairbanks and Bessie Love in The Mystery of the Leaping Fish (1916)

Too bizarre not to include on this list, The Mystery of the Leaping Fish is a two-reel Sherlock Holmes spoof that relies heavily on the trivia about Holmes using a “seven percent solution” to focus his mind. Yes, this is a zany Edwardian short revolving around…narcotics hijinks, starring Douglas Fairbanks as “Coke Ennyday,” a brilliant cocaine-addled detective (he can never seem to quite make eye contact with the camera). He investigates an opium smuggling ring who hides the substance in inflatable beach toys called “Leaping Fish.” It’s certainly a short that must be seen to be believed…or so the saying goes. Did I mention it was directed by none other than Tod Browning of Dracula (1931) fame?

–Lea Stans for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Lea’s Silents are Golden articles here.

Lea Stans is a born-and-raised Minnesotan with a degree in English and an obsessive interest in the silent film era (which she largely blames on Buster Keaton). In addition to blogging about her passion at her site Silent-ology, she is a columnist for the Silent Film Quarterly and has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.

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Monsters and Matinees: It’s All in the Family for Monster Kids

It’s All in the Family for Monster Kids

Living up to your family legacy can be tough.

You can spend your life trying to meet the high expectations of your parents or following in the family business that is often at the expense of your own dreams.

As tough as that is for humans, think about the difficulties for monster kids like Dracula’s son and Frankenstein’s daughter. In the film world, they’re held up to the iconic characters and movies that came before them. That’s a steep uphill climb.

You most likely know films like Son of Frankenstein (1939) with Boris Karloff and Dracula’s Daughter (1936) that was so well-regarded it has an entire book written about it. But I’m here to talk about four other films that may not be as well known, nor as impressive, but they give it their all. (Two from Hammer are much better than expected.) Their lineage is traced to Dracula, Frankenstein, Jack the Ripper and Dr. Jekyll.

Lon Chaney Jr. and Louise Allbritton share a tender moment in Son of Dracula.

Son of Dracula (1943)

This was the third Universal film in the Dracula series, following the timeless original and Dracula’s Daughter. Son of Dracula has solid pedigree with Lon Chaney Jr. (though he was billed without the Jr. for this film) in the title role, Robert Siodmak (The Killers) as director and a story by his brother Curt Siodmak (The Wolf Man).

Count Dracula, going by the name of Alucard to fool everyone, travels to New Orleans on the invitation of lovely young Katherine Caldwell (played by Louise Allbritton), one of two daughters of an elderly plantation owner. (The other is Claire played by Evelyn Ankers of The Wolf Man.) Katherine, who has an interest in the occult, became mesmerized by The Count on a visit to Budapest, but we won’t know the full reason for that until a “wow” moment late in the film. The Count (I’m going to call him that instead of Dracula/Alucard) also has his own reasons for leaving his home country for this new land of America.

Within hours of The Count’s arrival, Katherine’s father is found dead in his room with two strange little marks on his neck. They draw the interest of family friend Dr. Brewster (Frank Craven) although he doesn’t know what to make of them. He was equally puzzled earlier when he saw a luggage tag for Count Alucard and realized it spelled Dracula backward. That’s because Dracula is not a name known in the United States – yet.

A personality change in Katherine, especially her obsession with The Count, is a growing concern to those closest to her, including long-time fiancée Frank (Robert Paige). Yes, we have a human/vampire love triangle.

Son of Dracula looks like a Universal film – moody black and white cinematography with shadows, for starters. Chaney is a handsome, yet stoic Count. There’s none of the mysterious other worldliness of Bela Lugosi, nor should we expect there to be.

The first half of the film is slow moving, then it suddenly picks up the pace. There will be a quickie wedding, an innocent will descend into near madness and there will be a lesson in Vampires 101 for the American newbies.

The story finally reveals character motivations, too, making my head spin in a good way. Now we know what’s going on with Katherine and why The Count left his homeland giving us something to think about – and care about.

In the end … Nothing will compare to the original 1931 film and that shouldn’t be surprising. Still, there are nifty scenes like a coffin rising out of the water and the shock when Dr. Brewster finds Katherine in her bedroom that is as jolting as nearly anything I’ve seen in a horror film. I also loved the unexpected hero of the film and was emotionally touched by the end which I did not anticipate.

Dracula story stand-in … Professor Lazlo (J. Edward Bromberg) plays the Dr. Van Helsing-type who is called in to explain everything.

Special note: Don’t confuse this Son of Dracula with the 1974 film of the same name. The later movie is a musical starring Ringo Starr, Harry Nilsson and a host of other rockers. The plot is about Count Downe (Nilsson), the son of Count Dracula who has been murdered. Merlin (Starr) and Baron Frankenstein (Freddie Jones) want to groom him to take over for dad, but the younger count has fallen in love and wants to be mortal. Directed by Freddie Francis

Sandra Knight, left, is hiding the bad effects of an experiment from Donald Murphy in Frankenstein’s Daughter. (Courtesy of The Film Detective)

Frankenstein’s Daughter (1956)

If we’re talking in terms of blood ties, Frankenstein’s Daughter is a misleading title.  The two – yes two – young women in the film who are the subjects of experiments gone wrong are not related to the infamous Dr. Frankenstein. But there is a Frankenstein grandchild in the mix, so we do have family ties. (I know the question you are asking: Why isn’t it called Frankenstein’s Grandchild? I don’t know.)

Dr. Carter Morton (played by Felix Locher) lives in a lovely house with his teen niece Trudy (played by Sandra Knight, the future Mrs. Jack Nicholson). Along with his assistant Oliver (Donald Murphy), the doctor conducts altruistic experiments to stop disease in the home’s handy first-floor laboratory. Meanwhile, Trudy hangs with her cute boyfriend Johnny (John Ashley) and their friends Dave (Harold Lloyd Jr.) and Suzie (former Playmate Sally Todd).

Unfortunately, Dr. Morton’s well-meaning formula comes with a side effect of brief disfigurement. At first, it’s minor things like buck teeth and bushy eyebrows, before it devolves into full facial distortions and body contortions. It gets ugly fast, but the experiments go on because a surprise Frankenstein heir wants to restore the family name by completing granddad’s work.

“They were geniuses!” you’ll hear the heir exclaim (no spoilers here on who it is).

Meanwhile, the white-picket fence California community is living in fear of a monster in a negligee. One newspaper headline screams “Woman monster menaces city!”

That doesn’t stop crazy teens from having a pool party with a live band.

In the end … The film is from director Richard E. Cunha, known for his quickie low-budget films that were labeled his “six-day wonders.” It never rises about that ultra-low budget, but it entertains by playing more like a 1950s teen hot rod film with kissing, cars and dancing.

Frankenstein story stand-in… The pitiful but devoted gardener Elsu (Wolfe Barzell) has a long history with the family, and is our Fritz/Igor character.

Extra: I recommend watching this from the 2021 special edition DVD from The Film Detective which comes with bonus features. Here’s a link to my previous story about Frankenstein’s Daughter for Classic Movie Hub.

The doe-eyed but deadly Anna (Angharad Rees) is helped by the kindly Dr. Pritchard (played by Eric Porter) in Hands of the Ripper.

Hands of the Ripper (1971)

The title reads like a slasher film – which it is – but it really should have “daughter” in the title since it is about the daughter of Jack the Ripper. Bonus: It’s from Hammer and comes not only with the studio’s patented Victorian ambiance, but the unexpected element of the Ripper communicating from beyond the grave.

Anna (played by Angharad Rees) was only 2 when she watched her father – the Jack the Ripper – kill her mother. Now 17, Anna is living with a phony medium who uses her to fake communication with dead relatives of grieving families. She’s very good at faking it – or is she? Nope, that’s dear old dead dad talking her into being like him. She just needs a childhood memory from that tragic night, something as simple as the flames of a fireplace, to be triggered into killing.

That sounds like I gave a lot away, but I didn’t because this film puts everything out there right away. There’s no guessing what’s going on or who is doing what. We know right away about the voice, the triggers and what it all does to Anna. Yet it doesn’t lessen the shock value.

Anna is taken in by this film’s version of the well-meaning but ill-advised doctor, Dr. Pritchard (played by Eric Porter). He’s studying Freud and thinks by psychoanalyzing Anna that he can get in the mind of a killer, save her and make history at that same time. That can’t go well.

In the end … This is vintage Hammer with the ornate Victorian setting of the grand house, the uniquely colored blood, plenty of bodices and the dramatic music with two settings (romantic and dramatic). The supernatural twist of the dead Ripper communicating with his daughter is excellent and adds a unique element to the many other Jack the Ripper films.

Ripper story stand-in … None needed because we’ve got the real deal in dad, AKA Jack the Ripper.

Ralph Bates, left, and Martine Beswick in a publicity photo for Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde.

Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde (1971)

In this Hammer film, handsome young Dr. Jekyll (Ralph Bates) is researching an antivirus to save the world, but it’s been slow going with years of study to come. When a colleague mentions Jekyll will be dead before he succeeds (nice friend), he switches gears to create an anti-aging formula that will give him more time. The magic ingredient, he believes, will be female hormones.

He harvests female organs from cadavers until that supply runs out and he’s forced to kill to continue his experiments. (One of Jekyll’s multiple wars with himself is whether sacrificing a few to save the many is the right moral choice.) Jekyll succeeds in his experiments, but at the cost of creating a murderous alter ego, as happened in Robert Louis Stevenson’s original 1903 novel. This time instead of Mr. Hyde, it’s a Mrs. Hyde who is as lethal as she is beautiful. (She’s played by the sensual Martine Beswick.)

In the end … This film benefits from that interesting twist of having Hyde be a woman. It creates an ongoing tug-of-war between Jekyll and Hyde about sexual identities and the classic battle of good vs. evil. We also get a new take on the Jack the Ripper story which adds another element.

Dr. Jekyll story stand-in …. Jekyll’s friend Professor Robertson takes on the role of Hastie Lanyon, the friend from the novel. Instead of a fiancée, Jekyll develops feelings for his new upstairs neighbor Susan Spencer (Susan Broderick).

 Toni Ruberto for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Toni’s Monsters and Matinees articles here.

Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is a writer and board member of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and led the offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs. She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto.

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Silver Screen Standards: Leave Her to Heaven (1945)

Leave Her to Heaven (1945)

The mingling of film noir and melodrama can yield strange but beautiful fruit, as it does most memorably in 1945’s Leave Her to Heaven, adapted by Jo Swerling from the 1944 novel by Ben Ames Williams and directed by John M. Stahl. Gene Tierney, always exquisite and usually cast in more sympathetic roles, transforms her radiance into a death ray as the obsessive anti-heroine Ellen Berent, whose love destroys the objects of her adoration and everyone else around them. The film features an outstanding cast, including Cornel Wilde, Jeanne Crain, Vincent Price, Ray Collins, and Darryl Hickman, but the picture belongs heart and soul to Tierney and her mesmerizing performance, which brought the star her only Academy Award nomination for Best Actress. If you want a noir film that plunges deep into the psyche of its central femme fatale, then Leave Her to Heaven is a perfect choice, as hypnotically luminous and seductive as Ellen herself.

Leave Her to Heaven Gene Tierney book
When she first meets Richard Harland (Cornel Wilde), Ellen (Gene Tierney) is entranced by his resemblance to her dead father.

We aren’t introduced to Tierney’s character right away, a move that builds our curiosity while also warning us that this love story won’t go well for its participants. Instead, we start at the end, with writer Richard Harland (Cornel Wilde) returning home to his lakeside cabin after a stretch in prison. His friend and lawyer, Glen Robie (Ray Collins), then unfolds the tragic tale for us, taking us back to the first meeting of Ellen and Richard on a train some years before. Ellen, still grieving the death of her beloved father, quickly attaches herself to Richard and breaks off her engagement with the ambitious lawyer Russell Quinton (Vincent Price). Richard hurries into marriage to a woman he barely knows, but he seems happy, and he forms bonds with Ellen’s mother (Mary Philips) and adopted sister Ruth (Jeanne Crain). Richard hopes that Ellen will also love his younger brother, Danny (Darryl Hickman), a sweet teen struggling to recover from polio, but he eventually learns that Ellen’s heart only has room for one, and she will permit nothing to come between her and the one she loves.

Leave Her to Heaven Gene Tierney boat
Having lured Danny (Darryl Hickman) out to the middle of the lake, Ellen waits for his strength to fail.

Tierney’s beauty, enhanced by Technicolor cinematography, provides a perfect mask for the corruption that lurks beneath Ellen’s superficial sweetness. She is a femme fatale of grand, classical proportions, a fact suggested by the film’s title, which comes from a line in Hamlet, although Ellen might have more in common with Lady Macbeth than Queen Gertrude. Not content, however, with Shakespearean scale, the story imagines Ellen at a mythological level. There’s a reason we often refer to a seductive female character as a siren – a role sometimes conveyed by presenting the femme fatale as a singer – but the connection can also be made through the siren’s association with water. The classical siren of myth tempts men with her beautiful voice and appearance, but beneath the surface lurks a monster bent on destruction. It’s no accident that Ellen’s most iconic and terrible scene presents her on the water, luring the unsuspecting Danny to his doom by encouraging him to swim beyond his endurance. The film underscores the importance of that central moment by opening and closing on the same lake, where we first see Richard returning home and then, finally, see the resolution of all the grief he has endured.

Leave Her to Heaven Gene Tierney and Cornel Wilde
The early happiness of their marriage collapses under the weight of Ellen’s obsession and its consequences for Richard.

While many dangerous female characters in film noir are presented as sirens of one kind or another, Ellen is also as much a victim of obsession as she is its source. Her first idol was her own father, and she is initially drawn to Richard because of his resemblance to the late Mr. Berent. Early on, her mother offers a kindly – and tragically erroneous – assessment by saying, “There’s nothing wrong with Ellen. It’s just that she loves too much.” Ellen’s love is not cast widely and thus softened; instead, she loves one object only and to excess. The attitudes of her mother and adopted sister make it clear that Ellen has never loved either of them. Her father absorbed all of the intense radiation of her devotion, perhaps leading to his own destruction. When Richard becomes her new obsession, she wants to be everything to him because he has become everything to her. There is no room in her world for her family, for Danny, or even for the baby she conceives and then abhors as a competitor for Richard’s love. Her actions are shocking and terrible, but she seems unable to consider other people as human beings at all, only as obstacles that threaten to come between her and her beloved. She is quite literally willing to die to keep Richard focused on her alone. Ellen’s role as a victim of her own obsessive nature brings us back to the Shakespearean advice of the title; we must leave her to heaven to judge because her madness puts her beyond the scope of mortal justice.

Leave Her to Heaven Gene Tierney stairs
Ellen will stop at nothing to keep Richard all to herself, even viewing their unborn child as a rival for his affection.

Obsessive women are the subjects of several iconic films, including Fatal Attraction (1987) and Misery (1990), but obsessive men are far more common. For more classic movies on the subject see Rebecca (1940), The Letter (1940), and Possessed (1947). Gene Tierney and Vincent Price both appear in Laura (1944), which is also about obsession, and in the Gothic supernatural tale, Dragonwyck (1946), which I love for its cast and spooky atmosphere. Cornel Wilde also stars in Road House (1947), The Big Combo (1955), and The Naked Prey (1965), the last of which Wilde directed, as well. Darryl Hickman, who started out as a child star, had a long career that included roles in The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946), The Tingler (1959), and Network (1976). He died on May 22, 2024, at the age of 92.

— Jennifer Garlen for Classic Movie Hub

Jennifer Garlen pens our monthly Silver Screen Standards column. You can read all of Jennifer’s Silver Screen Standards articles here.

Jennifer is a former college professor with a PhD in English Literature and a lifelong obsession with film. She writes about classic movies at her blog, Virtual Virago, and presents classic film programs for lifetime learning groups and retirement communities. She’s the author of Beyond Casablanca: 100 Classic Movies Worth Watching and its sequel, Beyond Casablanca II: 101 Classic Movies Worth Watching, and she is also the co-editor of two books about the works of Jim Henson.

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Classic Movie Travels: Wini Shaw

Wini Shaw

wini shaw
Wini Shaw

Wini Shaw was born Winifred Lei Momi on February 25, 1907, in San Francisco, California, to James Edmonds Shaw and Esther Pua Kinamu Stephenson. She was of Hawaiian and Irish descent, and the youngest of thirteen children.

Shaw began her time in the entertainment industry as part of her parents’ vaudeville act in 1915 during the San Francisco World’s Fair. The family had a hula act in which Shaw danced as a child. Once the act disbanded, Shaw pursued an independent career.

At 17, Shaw married Leo Cummins and had three children: Elizabeth, James, and John. They divorced in 1933.

Shaw performed in revues and as part of the Ziegfeld Follies of 1931. Additionally, she worked on radio as well as various short-lived Broadway plays and musicals.

Later, Shaw performed in several Warner Brothers musical films, for which she is best known. During this period, Shaw introduced “Lullaby of Broadway” in Gold Diggers of 1935 (1935). Her only commercial recording would be with Dick Jurgens and his Orchestra, which included “Lullaby of Broadway” and “I’m Goin’ Shoppin’ with You” from the film. Shaw also introduced “The Lady in Red” in In Caliente (1935).

wini shaw broadway

By 1939, she left the film industry. During the World War II years, she toured service camps and Red Cross clubs as part of the USO alongside Jack Benny and Larry Adler.

Shaw performed on Broadway and in nightclubs before ultimately retiring in 1955. According to her family, Shaw married three more times, with her final husband being box office manager William “Bill” Joseph O’Malley. When Shaw suffered a stroke from which she did not fully recover, O’Malley remained devoted to her and assisted her throughout this time.

Shaw passed away on May 2, 1982, in New York. Shaw was buried at Calvary Cemetery in New York. Her epitaph credits her performances of “Lullaby of Broadway” and “The Lady in Red,” in addition to the phrase, “I will sing to my God a new song.” She was 75 years old.

In 1910, Shaw and her family resided at 210 N. Hoyt St., Portland, Oregon. The home no longer stands. In 1930, she resided at 111-26 177th St., Jamaica, New York, which stands.

111-26 177th St., Jamaica, New York

–Annette Bochenek for Classic Movie Hub

Annette Bochenek pens our monthly Classic Movie Travels column. You can read all of Annette’s Classic Movie Travel articles here.

Annette Bochenek of Chicago, Illinois, is a PhD student at Dominican University and an independent scholar of Hollywood’s Golden Age. She manages the Hometowns to Hollywood blog, in which she writes about her trips exploring the legacies and hometowns of Golden Age stars. Annette also hosts the “Hometowns to Hollywood” film series throughout the Chicago area. She has been featured on Turner Classic Movies and is the president of TCM Backlot’s Chicago chapter. In addition to writing for Classic Movie Hub, she also writes for Silent Film Quarterly, Nostalgia Digest, and Chicago Art Deco SocietyMagazine.

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Western RoundUp: Final Resting Places, More Western Filmmakers 2

More Western Filmmakers Final Resting Places

This month we return to the topic of the final resting places of Western filmmakers, visiting the gravesites of several actors and actresses across the Greater Los Angeles area.

Actor Kirk Douglas lived to the venerable age of 103, when he was buried at Westwood Memorial Park. He’s buried alongside his son Eric, who died in 2004, and his wife Anne, who passed away the year following her husband, aged 102. Kirk Douglas was in a number of Westerns over the years, including Along the Great Divide (1951), The Big Trees (1952), and Man Without a Star (1955); one of his best-known Westerns was Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957), in which he played Doc Holliday.

Kirk Douglas Final Resting Place
Kirk Douglas

Kirk Douglas’s leading lady in The Big Trees (1952), Eve Miller, is interred with her parents at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills. Sadly, Miller was only 50 when she died. She never obtained top stardom but worked steadily in films and television for roughly 15 years. Her other Western films included appearing opposite Charles Starrett in Buckaroo From Powder River (1957) and costarring as Sterling Hayden’s leading lady in Kansas Pacific (1953).

Eve Miller Final Resting Place
Eve Miller

Western star Forrest Tucker is also interred at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills. He appeared in countless Westerns, including many made at Republic Pictures; some of my favorites are Gunfighters (1947), Hellfire (1949), Rock Island Trail (1950), California Passage (1950), Jubilee Trail (1954), and The Quiet Gun (1957), to name just a few. I could easily go on! He also starred in the TV series F Troop (1965-67). Tucker was 67 when he passed on in 1986.

Forrest Tucker Final Resting Place
Forrest Tucker

Westerns may not be the first genre associated with singer-actor Dean Martin, but he appeared in a handful; he’d be worth mentioning if only for his work in one of the greatest Westerns ever made, Howard Hawks’ Rio Bravo (1959). I wrote about that favorite film here in 2021. The most notable of Martin’s other Westerns might be The Sons of Katie Elder (1965), which like Rio Bravo costarred John Wayne. Martin was 78 when he died in 1995. He’s interred at Westwood Memorial Park.

Dean Martin 2 Final Resting Place
Dean Martin

Fred MacMurray made many different types of films throughout his long career, including his notable association with Disney. Westerns were scattered throughout his credits, including The Texas Rangers (1936) early on; he later made a number of solid Westerns in the ’50s including Quantez (1957), Day of the Badman (1958), and Good Day for a Hanging (1959). MacMurray died in 1991 and is interred at Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City along with his second wife, actress June Haver.

Fred MacMurray Final Resting Place
Fred MacMurray

Like Fred MacMurray, Robert Young may be best remembered today for his years playing a father on a TV sitcom, but he appeared in a couple very good Westerns, including Fritz Lang’s Western Union (1941) and the lesser-known but well-done Relentless (1948), directed by George Sherman. Young was 91 when he passed away and is buried at Forest Lawn Glendale.

Robert Young Final Resting Place
Robert Young

Natalie Wood only made a couple of Westerns, but she was in one of the very greatest of them all, playing Debbie in John Ford’s The Searchers (1956). I recently wrote here about revisiting that film via a new restoration at the 2024 TCM Classic Film Festival; it had a huge emotional impact. The same year The Searchers was released, Wood appeared in The Burning Hills (1956). She was buried at Westwood Memorial Park following her tragic death in 1981.

Natalie Wood Final Resting Place
Natalie Wood

Another actress who worked with John Ford was Anna Lee, who over the years became a good personal friend of the director. Lee played supporting roles in Ford’s Westerns Fort Apache (1948) and The Horse Soldiers (1959); she also worked with Ford on non-Western films, most notably How Green Was My Valley (1941). As a side note, Lee’s daughter, Venetia Stevenson, appeared opposite Audie Murphy in Seven Ways From Sundown (1960), which I wrote about here in 2020. Like Natalie Wood, Lee is buried at Westwood Memorial Park; she’s interred with her last husband, writer Robert Nathan (Portrait of Jennie).

Anna Lee Final Resting Place
Anna Lee

Noah Beery Jr. came from an acting family; he was the son of Noah Beery (Sr.) and the nephew of Wallace Beery. While he’s perhaps best remembered today as James Garner’s father “Rocky” on TV’s The Rockford Files (1974-80), Beery made a number of “B” Westerns over his long career. Among his Westerns were The Carson City Kid (1940) with Roy Rogers, Riders of Death Valley (1941) with Dick Foran and Buck Jones, Under Western Skies (1945) opposite Martha O’Driscoll, and the Tim Holt film Indian Agent (1948). He also appeared in the classic Red River (1948), in Randolph Scott and Budd Boetticher’s Decision at Sundown (1957), and in numerous other Westerns. Beery passed away in 1994 at the age of 81 and is buried at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills.

Noah Beery Jr Final Resting Place
Noah Beery Jr.

We’ll conclude this month’s column with a visit to the gravesite of Leo Carrillo at Woodlawn Cemetery in Santa Monica. Carrillo appeared in several “B” Westerns, including titles starring Noah Beery Jr., and is especially known for playing Pancho in a series of Cisco Kid films released in 1949-50, followed by the Cisco Kid TV series (1950-1956). Carrillo’s family had deep roots in California, and his offscreen work on behalf of the state, including two decades on the California Parks Commission, may be an even greater legacy than his acting career. Among his achievements, Carrillo is credited with the state acquiring Hearst Castle. Today a California beach and two schools are named in his honor, and his Carlsbad Ranch is a tourist attraction which is on the National Register of Historic Places.

Leo Carrillo Final Resting Place
Leo Carrillo

For additional photos of the burial sites of Western filmmakers, please visit my columns from May 2019February 2022November 2, 2022November 29, 2022April 2023November 2023, and March 2024.

– Laura Grieve for Classic Movie Hub

Laura can be found at her blog, Laura’s Miscellaneous Musings, where she’s been writing about movies since 2005, and on Twitter at @LaurasMiscMovie. A lifelong film fan, Laura loves the classics including Disney, Film Noir, Musicals, and Westerns.  She regularly covers Southern California classic film festivals.  Laura will scribe on all things western at the ‘Western RoundUp’ for CMH.

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Silents are Golden: Charley Bowers, The Quirky Genius Of Stop-Motion Animation

Charley Bowers, The Quirky Genius Of Stop-Motion Animation

charley bowers

You’ve heard of Chaplin, Keaton, and Lloyd. You’ve even heard of Harry Langdon. Roscoe Arbuckle and Mabel Normand? Of course you’re familiar with them! Heck, you’re no stranger to Charley Chase or Marie Dressler–or even Monty Banks.

But what about Charley Bowers? “Wait, who?” you say. In the rarified world of silent film fandom the Bowers name is finally becoming more familiar, but this eccentric comedian and animation pioneer is still an obscure figure overall. Considering he was virtually forgotten for decades before several of his slapstick shorts were rediscovered in the 1960s–and it was still a challenge for historians to find out his name–he’s enjoying a happier fate than some of his contemporaries thanks to his wildly unique stop-motion visions.

charley bowers 2

Bowers was born in the small town of Cresco, Iowa, and sources vary as to whether it was in 1899 or 1877. In fact, sources vary about practically every aspect of Bowers’ life, thanks to his love of telling tall tales about himself–the more grandiose, the better. He would insist that his mother was a French countess and his father an Irish doctor (well, they were French and Irish respectively) and that he became a talented tightrope walker by the tender age of six. Supposedly a circus witnessed little Bowers’ amazing talents and kidnapped him, not allowing him to return for two years, and “the shock killed his father.” The rest of his youth was filled with odd jobs and he claimed to have had experience in everything from painting murals to acting in vaudeville to bucking broncos in the Wild West. What we do know for sure is that Bowers was an undeniably talented artist and worked as a newspaper cartoonist for the Jersey Journal, Newark Evening News, and Chicago Tribune in the 1900s and 1910s.

charley bowers 3

Somewhere along the way Bowers became fascinated with hand-drawn animation, becoming one of the animators on the Katzenjammer Kids and Bringing Up Father series. In 1916 he had worked his way up to being the head of the small Barré Studio churning out the popular Mutt and Jeff shorts under the wing of the Bud Fisher Film Corporation. Bud Fisher was the creator of Mutt and Jeff and happily took credit for writing and directing the films, but the plots came almost exclusively from Bowers’ busy imagination.

mutt and jeff on strike

Barré employees got used to their eccentric boss’s endless tall tales–told in the most minute detail–and liking for practical jokes. They also suspected that he was involved in more than a few shady business deals behind the scenes. Sure enough, in 1919 he was fired from the Barré Studio for padding the employee payrolls–although he quickly resurfaced to direct another Mutt and Jeff at a new flung-together studio.

Bowers’ work in hand-drawn animation was supplemented by his growing obsession with stop-motion puppetry, which he experimented with on the side. By the mid-1920s he had decided to enter the realm of live-action slapstick comedy with cinematographer H.L. Muller as his co-director and co-producer. Bowers would be the star of what was dubbed the “Whirlwind Comedies” series, featuring the mysterious (and self-patented) “Bowers Process,” a mysterious-sounding term for his stop-motion animation.

charley bowers whirlwind comedies

Usually revolving around Bowers as an obsessive, excitable inventor coming up with Rube Goldberg-esque machines (and clearly drawing inspiration from Buster Keaton and Harry Langdon), these Whirlwind Comedies were breezily paced and full of bizarre animated imagery. Their logic hovered somewhere between “cartoony” and “downright surreal.” In his first Whirlwind, the wonderful Egged On (1926), Charley hides a basket of eggs in a Model T’s engine space. Later he sees the eggs hatching into miniature Model Ts, which zip all over the floor before hiding under their “mother” automobile. In Now You Tell One (1926) Charley creates a potion that allows him to grow any type of food using tree grafts. He successfully grows an eggplant containing a hardboiled egg and a salt shaker, and a pussy willow graft results in dozens of full-grown cats.

charley bowers 4

His “Bowers process” brought all this bizarre imagery to life in painstaking detail, one hand cranked frame at a time. His many unique stop-motion creatures, such ostriches made of broomsticks and sentient oysters with pearl eyes, are given droll personalities and little gags of their own–Bowers never shied away from adding little flourishes that doubtless added hours of extra work. In A Wild Roomer (1927), Charley invents a machine that can perform any household task, from polishing a stove to giving the user an “egg shampoo.” At one point the plot comes to a halt for a lengthy sequence showing the machine’s robot arms carefully creating a rag doll and bringing it to life, clothing it, feeding it a banana, and giving it a friend in the form of a walnut that hatches into a squirrel. If this sounds like a Mad Lib brought to life, rest assured that the visual experience is just as confounding.

charley bowers 5

Bowers and Muller made 20 Whirlwind Comedies, the series ending with Goofy Birds (1928). In the early talkie era a series of “Tall Stories” shorts was announced, debuting with the charmingly weird It’s a Bird (1930). The short featured Bowers in his first talkie role (wearing a Stan Laurel-ish bowler hat), where he played a scrapyard worker who hears about an exotic “metal-eating bird.” He captures the bird with the help of a wise-talking worm and puts it to work. In one incredible sequence, the bird lays an egg which hatches a hyperactive blob of metal. It expands and unfolds into a full size Model T.

charley bowers 6

While his imaginative shorts were generally well-received Bowers was always a minor figure, and his whereabouts grew dimmer as the 1930s wore on. The Tall Stories series didn’t seem to get off the ground, and he worked sporadically on small shorts starring stop-motion oysters, mice and other animals. He also animated the film Pete Roleum and His Cousins (1939) for an exhibit at the 1939 World’s Fair, which starred singing, dancing drops of petroleum. After struggling with an unknown illness for several years, he passed away in 1947 in New Jersey, survived by his wife Winifred.

charley bowers 7

Soon Charley Bowers’ work was forgotten, but happily it wasn’t for too long. In the 1960s archivist Raymond Borde bought a stash of film cans marked “Bricolo,” which turned out to be the French nickname for Bowers. Thus began a slow revival of interest in this obscure, wildly unique artist. Today his rediscovered work has been restored, enshrined in box sets and played at film festivals, finally giving him the credit he always deserved–and doubtless would’ve gloried in.

charley bowers 8

–Lea Stans for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Lea’s Silents are Golden articles here.

Lea Stans is a born-and-raised Minnesotan with a degree in English and an obsessive interest in the silent film era (which she largely blames on Buster Keaton). In addition to blogging about her passion at her site Silent-ology, she is a columnist for the Silent Film Quarterly and has also written for The Keaton Chronicle.

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Noir Nook: Supportive Fellas of Film Noir: Part II

Supportive Fellas of Film Noir: Part II

More than a year ago, I started a series, “Supportive Fellas of Film Noir,” which focused on  . . . well . . . the supporting male characters in film noir features. It’s been a while since I promised to shine the spotlight on these gents, so I figured there was no time like the present to take another deep dive into this shadowy, supportive pool. This month’s Noir Nook will take a look at three more of my favorites: Jeff Hartnett, Whit Sterling, and Wally Fay.

…..

Jeff Hartnett in Johnny Eager (1942)

Jeff Hartnett (Van Heflin) in Johnny Eager
Jeff Hartnett (Van Heflin) in Johnny Eager

Robert Taylor stars in the title role of a smooth ex-con who drives a taxi to cover for a spate of criminal enterprises, from operating an illegal dog racing track to committing stone-cold murder. His circle of friends and lovers includes Garnet (Patricia Dane), his sometime-girlfriend; Lisbeth Bard (Lana Turner), the stepdaughter of Johnny’s nemesis in the D.A.’s office; and Jeff Hartnett, Johnny’s right-hand man (played by Best Supporting Actor Oscar winner Van Heflin).

Shortly after we make Jeff’s acquaintance, we learn three things about him: (1) he’s an intellectual, with a sensitive soul and a penchant for quoting Shakespeare, (2) he’s unutterably devoted to Johnny, and (3) he’s a functional alcoholic. We’re not told in so many words, but we get the impression that his reliance on the bottle is somehow tied in with the other two factoids about him – his allegiance to Johnny and his ties to Johnny’s criminal activities seem to be in direct conflict with his intelligence and his sense of right and wrong. In fact, when once asked by Johnny why he drinks so much, Jeff responds, “Every now and then I’ve got to look in a mirror.”

Don’t get me wrong – Jeff was Johnny’s closest friend and most loyal supporter, but he could also be unflinchingly honest when it came to Johnny’s actions and beliefs, regardless of the potential consequences. In the most extreme case of this, in one scene, Jeff makes a reference to Johnny’s self-centered nature and winds up on the floor with a sore jaw. But while Jeff departed that encounter with a final-sounding, “That broke it,” there was nothing Johnny could do to make Jeff truly abandon him. We could all do with a Jeff in our lives.

…..

Whit Sterling in Out of the Past (1947)

Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas) and Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum in Out of the Past
Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas) and Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum in Out of the Past

In this acclaimed noir feature, Robert Mitchum is Jeff Bailey, a small-town service station owner whose past as a private investigator (with a different last name) comes back to bite him when he has a chance encounter with a former associate. His past includes racketeer Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas) and Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer), the alluring dame who Sterling was desperate to find after she shot him and stole a cool forty grand.

Whit is a fascinating character – a refined gangster with a well-modulated voice and a pleasant smile. But he’s scary, too. When we first meet him, in a flashback where he’s hiring Jeff to track down Kathie, Whit is friendly, mild-mannered – he even doesn’t seem to be angry at Kathie. He just wants her back in his life.  But when Jeff asks him what he’ll do to Kathie when she returns, Whit’s eyes grow cold as he responds, “I won’t touch her.” It’s a chilling moment – and it’s not the last where Whit’s concerned.

In fact, almost every time we see Whit – and it’s not often – he has an air of affability that sets your teeth on edge. You never know what he’s going to say or do. You can ‘t figure him out. You don’t know if you should trust what he’s saying or head for the hills. Take the scene where he surprises Jeff by showing up in Mexico, where Jeff has found (and fallen for) Kathie. Whit doesn’t know that, but we’re not quite sure what he does know. Is he really just in Mexico to “see a man about a horse”? Is he in town to check up on his private dick investment? Or does he suspect that Jeff knows more than he’s telling? The suspense is lethal.

…..

Wally Fay in Mildred Pierce (1945)

Wally Fay (Jack Carson) in Mildred Pierce
Wally Fay (Jack Carson) in Mildred Pierce

In this feature, Joan Crawford stars in the title role of a single mother who will stop at almost nothing to earn the regard of her impossibly supercilious daughter, Veda (Ann Blyth). After the bust-up of her marriage to Bert (Bruce Bennett), Mildred takes a waitressing job to make ends meet, but eventually hits the jackpot with a chain of successful restaurants. She comes to learn, though, that money doesn’t buy happiness. Or devotion. Or love. And sometimes, it leads to murder. The cast is rounded out by Mildred’s cash-poor second husband Monte Beragon (Zachary Scott); Mildred’s saucy best pal, Ida Corwin (Eve Arden); and Bert Pierce’s former real estate partner, Wally Fay (Jack Carson).

On the surface, Wally was a jokester, a good-time Charlie who was always quick with a quip. But like Whit Sterling, his exterior was far different than what was underneath. We learn this early on, when Mildred’s voiceover references the end of the partnership between her husband and Wally: “One day they split up. Wally was in and Bert was out. They weren’t partners anymore. That day when Bert came home, he was out of a job.” We don’t find out any of the specifics, but we get the distinct impression that loyalty was not one of Wally’s strong suits, and self-preservation was.

We see this throughout the film – Wally is always (and I mean always) looking out for number one. When he finds out that Mildred and Bert are separated, he doesn’t waste any time trying to replace his former friend (“I’ve always been soft in the head where you’re concerned . . . maybe there’s a chance for me now.”). When Veda secretly marries her well-to-do boyfriend, it’s Wally who brokers a hefty financial settlement to end the union and, of course, plans to get his piece of the pie. And when Mildred’s business faces a financial crisis, Wally is the one who lands on his feet. And, yet, there’s something about Wally that prevents us from being mad at him – it’s not his fault that he consistently puts himself first. He does it with such charm! (Whaddya gonna do?)

——

Stay tuned for future Noir Nooks, where I’ll explore more first-rate supporting gents – and the ladies, too!

– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Karen’s Noir Nook articles here.

Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages.
If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here:

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Monsters and Matinees: A protective poltergeist? Only at the ‘House in Marsh Road’

House in Marsh Road

A glass of milk – so calming, so pure.

Mothers give it to their children. Kids leave glasses for Santa. A husband hands one to his wife to help her relax.

Wait. Take go back to that husband. If you’ve seen the Alfred Hitchcock thriller Suspicion, you’re probably feeling a bit uneasy.

In a famous scene from that 1941 film, shadows and darkness ominously move across the face of actor Cary Grant as he carries a glass of milk upstairs to his wife’s bedroom where she looks anxiously at the drink. Why is she hesitating?

Husbands with milk can be a dangerous proposition for wives as we’ve seen in Alfred Hitchcock’s Suspicion, left, and the ghost story House in Marsh Road.

Grant is Johnnie Aysgarth, husband to wealthy Lina McLaidlaw (played by Oscar winner Joan Fontaine). The film has raised the question of whether he’s married her for love or money and his new interest in poison isn’t helping quell Lina’s concerns. No wonder she looks at the milk like it’s on fire – or worse. Her expression mirrors our thoughts: Is there poison in the milk? Is he trying to kill her?

I couldn’t help thinking about that masterful scene after rewatching a similar one in a quiet little black and white horror film called House in Marsh Road (1960).

There’s a hubby, a glass of milk and a wife who also controls the money. But in Marsh Road, there’s no doubt what the husband is up to: Kill the wife, get the house, the money and his mistress. Despite his motives being perfectly clear, the film remains impressively effective and has a fantastic twist that takes it into Monsters and Matinees territory.

A glass of milk becomes a terrifying object in House in Marsh Road starring Patricia Dainton.

* * * * *

I first saw House in Marsh Road three ago after discovering a series of classic movies from a British distribution company called Renown Films. They were newly streaming on Amazon Prime Video (they also stream now on Tubi) and I had never seen or even heard of any of the films except The Trollenberg Terror (1958) which we know in the U.S. as The Crawling Eye.

The movies are low budget, of various genres and without stars. My expectations were low, but it turned out that there were a few gems with creative plots like House in Marsh Road.

The film was a compact 70 minutes and had a fun plot description that caught my interest: A loving wife inherits some property and hopes it will be the fresh start her and her husband need, but the house has other plans.

House in Marsh Road is part thriller, part ghost story. It’s even-tempered for most of its short running time, setting up the plot through its characters who are easy to know because they are who they say they are. And we learn that right away.

* * * * *

The film opens by introducing us to married couple Jean (played by Patricia Dainton) and David Linton (Tony Wright) as they’re inspecting a shabby boarding house room. The writing in this scene does a very good job in quickly telling us about them. David is a struggling author, hard drinker, a bit of a con man and a player (watch when he walks by a pretty woman) who lives off his wife. He drinks away the little money she makes at a dress shop, so they run from rooming house to rooming house when the rent is overdue. “What a way of living,” she says, clearly losing her patience with him and their way of life.

In this initial scene, David offers to pay the new landlady upfront, but she is so impressed by the fact he’s an author and his thick wad of bills, she says there’s no need to pay now. His fake money works every time.

“Everyone is willing to give you credit, if they think you’ve got money,” the cocky David says to Jean who isn’t amused.

You can cut the tension with a knife in the opening scene of House in Marsh Road where we meet a married couple played by Patricia Dainton and Tony Wright.

Luckily their housing situation is about to improve as Jean inherits a house in the British countryside by the whimsical name of Four Winds, Witherley.  She has a few childhood memories of it, so she immediately feels at home. In true David fashion, he sees it in terms of dollar signs yet makes disparaging comments about the old-fashioned place. That’s strike one, David.

As the happy Jean explores the house, a door slams in David’s face.  Boom.

Say hello to Patrick, David. That’s what the Irish housekeeper Mrs. O’Brien calls the ghost who comes with the house (he’s named after her husband because he’s also “invisible”).

Patrick doesn’t take kindly to humans who put down his home, nor does he like how David speaks to Jean. As the talkative Mrs. O’Brien shares, Jean’s aunt called Patrick a poltergeist which suggests he’s a malevolent spirit, yet she also believed Patrick would never harm her, nor “anyone belonging to her” which would include Jean. (I wonder why? I would love to see the prequel to this film.) Patrick will leave others alone – if they don’t make him angry. (We’re looking at you David.)

For much of the film you can call Patrick a protective poltergeist or even the playful poltergeist, though I know that’s a contradiction in terms. Patrick likes to tease Jean by doing things like moving chairs in hopes she’ll play with him (she does). “Dear Patrick, I do wish you could stop playing jokes,” she smiles while moving a chair back in place.

With David he’s more like a nasty prankster making a plate fall off the wall near David when he dismisses the idea that Patrick exists. (Strike 2, David.)

* * * * *

Jean takes care of the house and the garden. She’s happy. “Four Winds means something to me,” she says and she won’t part with it.

David is miserable, spending his days at the local pub called The Plough. That’s where an estate agent offers him a hefty sum for the house and provides the name of a typist to help with his book. Bonus: Mrs. Valerie Stockley is “quite a dish,” David is told.

And that she is – as well as a soon-to-be-divorcee. Yes, there’s an immediate attraction between the two and if a horror film can have a femme fatale, she’s it. Valerie (played by Sandra Dorne) seems nice enough and is drawn to David, but she’s also tempting, teasing and sees him as a means to an end.

Valerie (Sandra Dorne) asks for money from her married boyfriend David (Tony Wright) to help her get a divorce in House in Marsh Road. No problem, he’ll just steal it from his wife.

But she has standards. She won’t be David’s mistress. She also wants to remarry after her divorce and that takes David out of the running for her affection because he is married. (Sounds like she’s implying he should do something about that pesky wife.) Oh, and there’s the issue of money, too.

With Valerie, David says he’s drawn like a moth to the flame while the selfish cad bemoans his marriage. If only Jean wasn’t around, he would have money and Valerie.

Be careful, David, Patrick knows all. (Is this strike 3? I’ve lost count.)

This all plays out in a straightforward way without filler material, allowing the film to mosey along in a way that feels a bit unexciting despite the greed and infidelity, but gets us to where we want to go. (It is a haunted house movie after all.)

For example, ghosts in movies are usually seen or heard even if it’s only as the whisper of the wind or a shadow on the wall. Not Patrick. Oh, we see objects move a few times but that’s about all. Patrick isn’t much of a force in the film until that milk gets warmed up – then look out. Our mundane little ghost story catapults into full-on poltergeist mode.

David’s refusal to believe in Patrick’s existence makes him blind to warning signs like that falling plate and a mirror that violently breaks as Valerie gazes at her reflection. (The fact that Valerie returns to the house after that is puzzling. I would run and never look back.)

Meanwhile, Patrick looks out for Jean. He throws one of David’s desk drawers and its contents on the floor where Jean finds a letter signed “V.” It reads: “Darling. Thanks and thanks again for the twenty pounds, now I know you love me.”

Twenty pounds? The look on Jean’s face is priceless – she knows David stole it from her and she finds proof that he did.

A friendly poltergeist helps Jean (played by Patricia Dainton) find a letter from her husband’s mistress in House in Marsh Road.

There is a great scene when the two women finally meet while wimpy David hides. We love Jean as she stands up for herself and demands what has been stolen from her – and it ain’t David. Keep the hubby and give me back my money, she tells Valerie. Valerie learns what we already knew: Loverboy is broke and a liar.

But Valerie, it turns out, is in love and David’s response is to blame Jean for telling the truth.

“I could have murdered her,” he says.

“Why don’t you,” the angry Valerie screams at him. “Why don’t you break her silly little neck?”

If we thought Patrick was mad before, just wait.

* * * * *

Ah, back to that glass of milk. Stir in an overdose of sleeping pills and it still looks pure and white. No one will know, David thinks.

The tension builds as David carries the glass upstairs in a darkened hallway and into the room where his wife is resting. Jean’s nerves are on edge by an earlier “near accident” and David urges her to drink the milk and “aspirin.” Her intuition tells her something is off but he’s persistent.

Each time she raises the glass to her lips, strange things happen in a most unique way. Something is setting off warning bells but is anyone listening?

It’s a taut, thrilling and clever sequence but it’s not the film’s ending. As strong as it is – I remember sitting on the edge of my seat when I first watched it – it’s not the most fiery and intense scene in the film either.

The true nature of ghosts, like people, eventually comes out. Even the odd poltergeist with a nice side has his limits.

* * * * *

Trivia notes

  • Actor Tony Wright who plays David was married to actress Janet Munro (Trollenberg Terror, Darby O’Gill and the Little People).
  • Director Marshall Tully didn’t do many genre movies, but his last two films were The Terronauts with Simon Oakland and Terror Beneath the Earth, both made in 1967.
  • House in Marsh Road was not theatrically released in the United States, but it was part of the Amazing ’65 syndicated television package released in 1964 by American International Television.

Here’s the link to my original story on Renown Films in my Monsters and Matinees column for Classic Movie Hub.

 Toni Ruberto for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Toni’s Monsters and Matinees articles here.

Toni Ruberto, born and raised in Buffalo, N.Y., is an editor and writer at The Buffalo News. She shares her love for classic movies in her blog, Watching Forever and is a writer and board member of the Classic Movie Blog Association. Toni was the president of the former Buffalo chapter of TCM Backlot and led the offshoot group, Buffalo Classic Movie Buffs. She is proud to have put Buffalo and its glorious old movie palaces in the spotlight as the inaugural winner of the TCM in Your Hometown contest. You can find Toni on Twitter at @toniruberto.

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Silver Screen Standards: The Ladykillers (1955)

The Ladykillers (1955)

Like most Gen Xers, I grew up associating Sir Alec Guinness with his role as Obi Wan-Kenobi in the original Star Wars trilogy. Only as an adult did I discover his earlier work and his tremendous talent for comedy as showcased by his series of films in the 1950s with Ealing Studios, the first of which, Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949), started the collaboration by having Guinness play eight different members of the same family. Guinness and Ealing continued from there with A Run for Your Money (1949), The Lavender Hill Mob (1951), The Man in the White Suit (1951), and The Captain’s Paradise (1953) before coming to the delightfully nutty caper comedy, The Ladykillers (1955). Unlike Kind Hearts and Coronets, The Ladykillers casts Guinness as just one character, but it’s still one of his funniest roles, and more laughs roll in thanks to supporting performances from Peter Sellers, Herbert Lom, Cecil Parker, Danny Green, and the absolutely fantastic Katie Johnson as the endangered elderly lady of the title.

The Ladykillers Alec Guinness
Professor Marcus (Alec Guinness) rents a room from Mrs. Wilberforce as part of his elaborate robbery plan.

Guinness leads as the weirdly toothy Professor Marcus, who has planned an elaborate robbery that his gang will execute with the unwitting assistance of his newly acquired landlady, Mrs. Wilberforce (Katie Johnson). The criminals present themselves to Mrs. Wilberforce as amateur musicians, which causes problems when the music loving landlady frequently interrupts or comments on their “rehearsals.” The ruse fools her until after the heist, when their instrument cases are revealed to be stuffed with stolen cash. The indignant Mrs. Wilberforce demands that the money be returned, but the gang decides to murder her instead, even though none of them is keen to commit the act himself.

The Ladykillers Katie Johnson
Mrs. Wilberforce (Katie Johnson) exudes Victorian propriety, but the gang convinces her that the police will think she is part of their gang.

With his oversized teeth, limp hair, and sly expressions, Guinness’ felonious Professor is such an odd duck that it’s a wonder Mrs. Wilberforce lets him in the door at all, but the plot cleverly pits her geriatric Victorian innocence against the machinations of a devious modern age as embodied by Marcus’ ragtag gang of criminals. There’s never much doubt about which team is likely to carry the day; the thieves don’t stand a chance against the chaos that sweet, oblivious Mrs. Wilberforce throws into their schemes. Guinness and his costars suffer cartoonish misery thanks to the dear old lady, with runaway parrots, forgotten umbrellas, tea parties, and an unrelenting gaggle of elderly women all working to thwart them at every turn. The familiar heist montage – a staple of the genre – goes off the rails as Mrs. Wilberforce upsets Marcus’ precisely set plans, and riotous comedy ensues as she accosts strangers, starts fights, and eventually enlists the aid of the police to carry a large trunk full of stolen money right to the door of her house.

The Ladykillers Herbert Lom, Alec Guinness and Katie Johnson
Professor Marcus and Louis (Herbert Lom) don’t look much like classical musicians, but Mrs. Wilberforce falls for the ruse.

Most of the best scenes feature Guinness and/or Johnson, but each of the supporting actors is perfect in his own way. A baby-faced Peter Sellers makes an important early appearance as Harry, one of the younger and less experienced members of the gang, while Herbert Lom radiates noirish menace as Louis. This first pairing would eventually lead to the two actors appearing together in A Shot in the Dark (1964) and many of the ensuing Pink Panther films, which Lom continued to appear in even after Sellers’ death in 1980. Cecil Parker makes for a delightfully stuffy and fastidious Major Courtney, while Danny Green plays the surprisingly kind-hearted muscle, One-Round. With the exception of Green, whose lumbering boxer exhibits a protective fondness for Mrs. Wilberforce that is perhaps too touching, the gang actors manage to be funny, inept, and human enough to flinch at murdering an innocent woman without being so likable that we grieve when karma comes calling. The third act of the picture dishes out just deserts left and right, but the scenes in which Mrs. Wilberforce adopts the criminal jargon of her new associates are really just as funny as the physical comedy of the gang’s fatal mishaps.

The Ladykillers Peter Sellers and Danny Green
Harry (Peter Sellers) and One-Round (Danny Green) take their orders from Professor Marcus, but neither is cold-blooded enough to kill Mrs. Wilberforce.

After The Ladykillers, Guinness made a final bow with Ealing in All at Sea (1957), but 1957 also brought him dramatic success with The Bridge on the River Kwai, for which he won the Academy Award for Best Actor. If you want to see him in more serious films, try Great Expectations (1946), Oliver Twist (1948), Lawrence of Arabia (1962), and Doctor Zhivago (1965), all of which helped to establish his gravitas as an actor before he donned the Jedi robes of Obi Wan-Kenobi. Katie Johnson, who died in 1957, only appeared in two more films after The Ladykillers, and many of her earlier roles were small, uncredited parts, so it’s especially wonderful that we have her performance as Mrs. Wilberforce to showcase her talent. In 2004, the Coen brothers remade The Ladykillers with Tom Hanks in Guinness’ role, but it just can’t compare with the brilliance of the original Ealing version.

— Jennifer Garlen for Classic Movie Hub

Jennifer Garlen pens our monthly Silver Screen Standards column. You can read all of Jennifer’s Silver Screen Standards articles here.

Jennifer is a former college professor with a PhD in English Literature and a lifelong obsession with film. She writes about classic movies at her blog, Virtual Virago, and presents classic film programs for lifetime learning groups and retirement communities. She’s the author of Beyond Casablanca: 100 Classic Movies Worth Watching and its sequel, Beyond Casablanca II: 101 Classic Movies Worth Watching, and she is also the co-editor of two books about the works of Jim Henson.

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Classic Movie Travels: Mabel Todd

Mabel Todd

Mabel Todd
Mabel Todd

Mabel Todd was born on August 13, 1907, in Los Angeles, California, to Richard and Helen Todd, and grew up in Glendale, California. Her father worked as a salesman.

At an early age, Mabel and her sister, Marcia, performed as a singing duo in vaudeville. Mabel later sang on the radio regularly and was dubbed “The Little Ray of Sunshine.”

In 1933, she and comedian Morey Amsterdam married and worked together on The Laff and Swing Club radio show.

Todd made her film debut in Varsity Show (1933) and signed a contract with Warner Brothers. She appeared in supporting roles in films such as Hollywood Hotel (1937) and Gold Diggers in Paris (1938), typically in comedic roles that allowed her to express a zany persona and a high-pitched voice. Off-screen, she could typically be seen riding her scooter on the Warner Brothers lot.

Additionally, she provided the singing voice in the cartoon Katnip Kollege (1938).

In 1942, Todd made an appearance on television, performing on one of the first televised talent shows of the day.

portrait Mabel Todd

By 1943, she took on a starring role in The Ghost and the Guest (1943), written by Amsterdam. She also traveled the country during World War II to perform as part of the USO and boost troop morale.

In 1945, Todd and Amsterdam divorced. The end of their relationship was particularly bitter, with Amsterdam refusing to speak about her from that point on. At around the same time, her film career plateaued; she was only able to secure small roles. Her final film role would occur as a florist in Wife Wanted (1946).

Todd continued to work on radio and on the stage over the years. She eventually married Matthew Santino, roughly 15 years her junior, in November 1947 and separated in February 1948. The relationship also ended in a highly publicized divorce by 1950. In court, she testified that Santino was verbally and physically abusive during their short marriage.

Soon after, she retired from the entertainment industry altogether. She passed away on June 2, 1977, in Los Angeles. She was 69 years old.

Todd was cremated and interred at Queen of Heaven Cemetery in Los Angeles, California.

Today, some of Todd’s former residences remain. In 1910, Todd and her family resided at 6510 Denver Ave., Los Angeles, California. The home stands.

6510 Denver Ave., Los Angeles

In 1920, Todd and her family lived at 1208 S. Glendale Ave., Glendale, California. This home no longer stands.

By 1930, Todd’s mother passed away. Todd lived with her father and boarders at 416 N. Maryland Ave., Glendale, California. This home remains.

416 N. Maryland Ave., Glendale, California
416 N. Maryland Ave., Glendale

In 1940, Todd and Amsterdam lived at 269 W. 72nd St., New York, New York. Both were radio singers and this point. This building stands.

269 W. 72nd St., New York, New York
269 W. 72nd St., New York City

They also rented an apartment at 801 Filmore St., San Francisco, California, which stands.

801 Filmore St., San Francisco

Todd and Amsterdam also resided at 11616 Otsego St., Los Angeles, California, which stands.

11616 Otsego St., Los Angeles
11616 Otsego St., Los Angeles

–Annette Bochenek for Classic Movie Hub

Annette Bochenek pens our monthly Classic Movie Travels column. You can read all of Annette’s Classic Movie Travel articles here.

Annette Bochenek of Chicago, Illinois, is a PhD student at Dominican University and an independent scholar of Hollywood’s Golden Age. She manages the Hometowns to Hollywood blog, in which she writes about her trips exploring the legacies and hometowns of Golden Age stars. Annette also hosts the “Hometowns to Hollywood” film series throughout the Chicago area. She has been featured on Turner Classic Movies and is the president of TCM Backlot’s Chicago chapter. In addition to writing for Classic Movie Hub, she also writes for Silent Film Quarterly, Nostalgia Digest, and Chicago Art Deco SocietyMagazine.

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