Monsters and Matinees: Discovering Barbara Stanwyck, Horror Queen

Discovering Barbara Stanwyck, Horror Queen

The idea of having Barbara Stanwyck in my Monsters and Matinees column never crossed my mind. For starters, she isn’t known for horror films and, honestly, I didn’t feel worthy. Then I found her 1970 made-for-television horror movie The House That Would Not Die and couldn’t contain my excitement.

As we sometimes do when we watch a movie for the first time, I felt like I had “discovered” it and needed to shout to the world: Look at this Barbara Stanwyck horror film! It was an ABC Movie of the Week and I quickly learned she made another horror film for the weekly TV series just a year later called A Taste of Evil.

It’s love at first sight for Ruth Bennett (played by Barbara Stanwyck) and her niece Sara (Kitty Winn) when they see their ancestral home, also known as The House That Wouldn’t Die.

This was movie gold: two made-for-television horror films made in two years starring one of our greatest actresses.

Now if you’re a regular reader of Monsters and Matinees (thank you!), the ABC Movie of the Week may sound familiar. That’s because it was also the topic of the August column after I realized you can’t write about ABC Movie of the Week horror films without first acknowledging its most famous one: Trilogy of Terror. So that 1975 anthology horror classic and its tiny, but murderous, Kuni warrior doll was first up, and is now followed by Stanwyck’s horror films. It can’t be overstated how much she lifted these two movies by sheer talent and screen presence.

* * * * *

The House That Wouldn’t Die and A Taste of Evil share more than their leading lady and a spot on the ABC Movie of the Week. Both were produced by Aaron Spelling, directed by John Llewellyn Moxey (Mission Impossible, Magnum, P.I. and Murder, She Wrote) and featured designs by Nolan Miller (which explains why even Stanwyck’s nightgowns were so elegant).

Michael Anderson Jr., left, Kitty Winn, Barbara Stanwyck and Richard Egan try to find answers to strange happenings in The House That Wouldn’t Die.

The films aren’t great works of horror. In fact, if you look for references in Stanwyck biographies, they’re only mentioned in passing. But I found them worth watching because they held my attention and have a fascinating pedigree in front of and behind the camera.

The House That Wouldn’t Die co-stars Richard Egan, Michael Anderson Jr. and Kitty Winn. It’s based on the book Ammie Come Home by Barbara Michaels and was written for TV by Henry Farrell, whose novel Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? was adapted into the noteworthy 1962 film of the same name.

A Taste of Evil was written by Jimmy Sangster, the acclaimed writer and director of early Hammer horror films. Stanwyck’s co-stars are Roddy McDowall, William Windom, Arthur O’Connell and Barbara Parkins.

See what I mean by pedigree?

The films came shortly after Stanwyck’s four-season run ended on the popular television series The Big Valley in 1969. Credited as the royalty she is as “Miss Barbara Stanwyck” at the start of each episode, she played matriarch Victoria Barkley, a strong, fierce and independent woman who fought for her family and her beliefs. You’ll see a lot of that in these two horror films.

* * * * *

New neighbors get to know each other as Pat (Richard Egan) and Ruth (Barbara Stanwyck) clink glasses before Pat has a startling – but temporary – change in demeanor in The House That Wouldn’t Die. Love the fur cuffs on her Nolan Miller gown.

THE HOUSE THAT WOULDN’T DIE

The title of this film about a woman who inherits a house with deadly secrets could also be called The House That Was Alive. Doors open and close on their own, objects move, the wind blows inside the house and there are eerie sounds like whimpers and screams. Outside, a man’s voice repeats a mournful cry of “Ammie, come home.”

Ruth Bennett (played by Stanwyck) arrives with her niece Sara (Kitty Winn) at the historic Campbell House (circa 1700-1800s) that was left to Ruth by her cousin. It’s love at first sight for them, but not for viewers. We’ve seen enough in the first few minutes to get freaked out as the camera moves like a character through the rooms. Pay attention as it lingers – it could be a clue of what’s to come. It’s especially eerie when “something” pulls the curtains apart to look at Ruth and Sara as they arrive. “Drive away,” you’ll be tempted to say.

But they are excited. The house is beautiful, though drafty, and you’ll hear sentiments like “we belong here” and Sara exclaiming “I found my room – I recognized it like I’ve been in it before.” (Oh, that’s not creepy.)

The curtains seem to open on their own to check out who just drove up in The House That Wouldn’t Die.

Even the neighbor who shows up within minutes of their arrival – and first appears as a sinister black silhouette in the doorway – says he feels the same though he’s never been inside. “I’ve always had a strange affection for this place,” he says. (That isn’t creepy either, is it?)

He’s college professor Pat McDougal, played by Richard Egan who I’ve always thought of as an unconventionally handsome and sturdy leading man since seeing him in A Summer Place. He does a great job here of turning a smiling face into a sinister gaze that’s necessary for the film to work.

Rounding out the main foursome will be one of his best students, Stan, who is played by Michael Anderson Jr., a handsome young fixture on TV during that time.

A friendly gathering at the professor’s that night has talk of holding a séance at the Campbell House and we all know how those turn out. (Yes, this is moving fast, but that’s required of a film that clocks in at a taut 74 minutes.)

A seance goes wrong (as they tend to do), especially for young Sara (Kitty Winn). Michael Anderson Jr. plays her new friend Stan.

The séance goes as expected with spooky happenings including a ghostly figure that superimposes itself over Sara. (That’s another clue.)

More things happen in the spooky house: Doors and windows mysteriously open unleashing a wild wind – and something else with it. In one intense scene, Sara inexplicably attacks her aunt as the wind whips and howls around them. When the attack ends, so does the wind.

Sara and Pat have strange moments where they intently stare at each other like something has taken over their bodies. (That old movie trick always gets my attention.) Even when they leave the house out of safety concerns, an evil follows them. Attempts at a second séance fail when the psychic ends it early. “Sorry I can’t stay here – this is a terrible place,” she says. I would have run out the door with her.

Instead, our quartet will search the spooky attic and scary basement for clues about the history of the house and its former inhabitants. They’ll find them, of course, although they may live to regret it. Still, they’ll take time to bring a thermos of coffee into the basement and sip from cups with saucers on the cellar steps. I chuckled, but I love that moment. Civility is alive, along with the house.

* * * * *

A TASTE OF EVIL

Barbara Parkins, left, and Barbara Stanwyck star in A Taste of Evil.

In A Taste of Evil, a young woman returns home after years of treatment following a childhood rape, only to be terrorized by strange visions and occurrences. Barbara Stanwyck plays her mother Miriam, a wealthy widow who has since remarried, and Barbara Parkins is the adult Susan.

The movie opens on the day of the attack as a child’s voice narrates the events. Young Susan’s parents are hosting a lawn party while she is in a little playhouse built by in the woods by her father. As in the first film, director John Llewellyn Moxey again uses the effective image of a large, imposing figure silhouetted in the doorway. Susan, drawing pictures of her dolls, screams.

A newspaper ad for A Taste of Evil.

Cut to her return seven years later as we learn more details. Though her mother downplays it, Susan was catatonic after the attack and didn’t speak for two years.

She’s since made enough progress to return home from the clinic in Switzerland, but is she cured? You’ll quickly begin to doubt it.

Visions and memory fragments start immediately, but Susan hides it. To her credit, she doesn’t shy away from revisiting the scary woods where she was attacked but she’s spooked by sounds and is clearly not as “over it” as she thinks.

Winds will swirl inside the house and the windows – left open so the curtains can atmospherically billow in the wind – slam shut.

Voices call out, lights turn off on their own and a strange figure lurks outside – repeatedly. Then there’s the dead body in the bathtub that disappears only to reappear alive the next day. And what is that strange breathing sound?

Dr. Lomas (Roddy McDowall) helps Susan (Barbara Parkins) who is having hallucinations when she returns home seven years after she was brutally attacked in A Taste of Evil.

Enter the kind Dr. Michael Loomis (McDowall), who once attended the posh parties held by Susan’s parents. He’s here to help, but can he – or has Susan traveled so far back down a dark path that she can’t return?

There is shocking turn of events that even if you think you saw it coming, you really haven’t. All will be cleverly explained at the end.

The last 12 minutes are an unexpected edge-of-your-seat thrill ride, thanks to an acting master class by Stanwyck. And isn’t that what we expect with any film she stars in? These may be low-budget films, but there’s no such thing as a run-of-the-mill movie starring Miss Barbara Stanwyck.

 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 member and board chair 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 or on Bluesky at @watchingforever.bsky.social

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Noir Nook: Autumn Noir

Noir Nook: Autumn Noir

As the leaves once again begin to fall from the trees, we bid a fond farewell to the steamy days of summer and prepare to embrace shorter days, lower temps, and Halloween décor on department store shelves.

This month’s Noir Nook celebrates these changes by serving up six recommended noirs, each one corresponding with a letter for the spelling of the upcoming season. Grab a sweater and a cup of cider, and see how many of the following AUTUMN noirs you’ve seen!

…..

A is for Ace in the Hole (1951)

Ace in the Hole, Kirk Douglas
Ace in the Hole, Kirk Douglas

This feature focuses on Chuck Tatum (played to perfection by Kirk Douglas), an ambitious newspaper reporter whose bad decisions, trigger temper, and penchant for the bottle have landed him on a small publication in a sleepy town in New Mexico. Desperate for a story that will put him back in the big leagues, Tatum sees a possible path to restoration when he learns about a local man – Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict) – who’s trapped by a boulder following a cave-in. But instead of working to free the man, Tatum teams with a corrupt local authority to prolong the rescue efforts and spearheads coverage of the incident, resulting in nationwide exposure. As Tatum rises in prominence, the scene outside the cave devolves into a circus-like atmosphere, complete with gaping tourists, rides and refreshments, and even a theme song – hence the alternate name of the film, The Big Carnival. The delayed rescue turns out to be a boon for all involved, including Minosa’s wife, Lorraine (Jan Sterling), who can barely keep up with the customers who crowd into the family’s trading post – it’s a windfall for everyone, that is, except Leo.

Favorite quote: “I don’t go to church. Kneeling bags my nylons.” – Lorraine Minosa

Trivia tidbit: The memorable nylon line delivered by Jan Sterling’s character was reportedly contributed by Audrey Young, the wife of the film’s director, Billy Wilder, who also co-wrote the screenplay.

…..

U is for Union Station (1950)

Union Station, William Holden and Nancy Olson
Union Station, William Holden and Nancy Olson

This feature is set primarily in the Chicago train depot of the film’s title, where William Calhoun (William Holden) works as a police lieutenant. Calhoun’s considerable investigative skills are summoned when a young blind girl (Allene Roberts) is kidnapped by a trio of hoods and spirited away into the bowels of the city’s municipal tunnel. Calhoun is aided in his search for the girl by his boss (Barry Fitzgerald) and an eagle-eyed train passenger, Joyce Willecombe (Nancy Olson, fresh off her co-starring role with Holden in Sunset Boulevard earlier in the year), whose employer is the father of the kidnapped girl. The film’s director was Rudolph Mate, who previously directed Holden in The Dark Past (1948); helmed the 1949 noir, D.O.A.; and served as cinematographer for the Rita Hayworth starrer, Gilda (1946).

Favorite quote: “I may have to beat your brains out. You’ll have to decide that.” – Lt. William Calhoun

Trivia tidbit: Both Alan Ladd and John Lund were considered for the role of Lt. Calhoun.

…..

T is for They Won’t Believe Me (1947)

They Won't Believe Me, Jane Greer, Robert Young and Susan Hayward
hey Won’t Believe Me, Jane Greer, Robert Young and Susan Hayward

If you only know Robert Young from the 1970s medical series, Marcus Welby, M.D., you’re in for a treat (or a shock, depending on your outlook). Here, Young plays Larry Ballentine, whose trial for the murder of his girlfriend, Verna Carlson (Susan Hayward), opens the film. In a flashback that lasts for most of the feature, we see that Ballentine is no saint – he steps out on his long-suffering wife Greta (Rita Johnson) with magazine writer Janice Bell (Jane Greer), then drops Janice like a hot poker when Greta finds out and insists on moving to another city. There, ever the skirt-chaser, Larry falls for his co-worker, Verna – in fact, he falls so hard that he plans to leave his wife, but when Verna winds up dead, all bets are off and all signs point to Larry. Deftly helmed by Irving Pichel (who began his career as an actor and makes a cameo here), this picture features one of my favorite endings in all of noir.

Favorite quote: “She looked like a very special kind of dynamite, neatly wrapped in nylon and silk. Only I wasn’t having any. I’d been too close to one explosion already. I was powder shy.” – Larry Ballentine

Trivia tidbit: Verna’s house in the film was also used in another RKO film released that year, The Devil Thumbs a Ride, starring Lawrence Tierney.

…..

U (number two) is for The Unsuspected (1947)

The Unsuspected, Claude Rains, Audrey Totter, and Michael North
The Unsuspected, Claude Rains, Audrey Totter, and Michael North

I don’t subscribe to the often-popular opinion that most films noirs have confusing, labyrinthine plots – but this one, directed by Michael Curtiz, is certainly no walk in the park. Claude Rains stars as popular radio personality Victor Grandison, who hosts a true-crime show which shares its title with that of the film. When we first meet Grandison, he has just murdered his secretary and staged the death to appear as a suicide. And that’s not the only dead body with which Grandison will be connected before all is said and done. The list of potential victims includes Grandison’s niece Althea (Audrey Totter), who’s a man-chaser from way back; Althea’s alcoholic husband (Hurd Hatfield); Grandison’s wealthy ward, Matilda (Joan Caulfield); and Steven Howard (Michael North), who claims to be Matilda’s husband. There are a lot of moving pieces here, but even if they don’t all fit together, there’s no denying that this is one noir you won’t soon forget.

Favorite quote: “The nicest thing about guests is their departure.” – Victor Grandison

Trivia tidbit: This film marked the big screen debut of Fred Clark, who played a homicide detective, and the final feature of Michael North, who went on to become an agent, with a client list that included Amanda Blake, Red Skelton, and Milburn Stone.

…..

M is for My Name is Julia Ross (1945)

My Name is Julia Ross, Nina Foch
My Name is Julia Ross, Nina Foch

One of my favorite underrated noirs, My Name is Julia Ross stars Nina Foch in the title role of a woman whose entire life is turned upside down (and inside out) by a malevolent mother-son duo – Mrs. Williamson Hughes and Ralph (Dame May Whitty and the uber-creepy George Macready). They accomplish this by hiring Julia – ostensibly – to provide live-in secretarial services to Mrs. Hughes at her London home. But Julia learns that all is not what it seems when she goes to sleep in London and awakens in a Cornwall coast mansion, where she is confined to her room and told that she is Ralph’s mentally fragile, emotionally incapacitated wife. Joseph Lewis – who would go on to direct two top-tier noirs, Gun Crazy (1950) and The Big Combo (1955) – helms this one with dexterity, keeping the viewer firmly perched on their seat-edge from start to finish.

Favorite quote: “The next time I apply for a job, I’ll ask for their references.” – Julia Ross

Trivia tidbit: Nina Foch once joked that the low-budget film was “shot in about three and a half minutes,” but she also acknowledged that it gave her “the first [role] that I really liked.”

…..

N is for New York Confidential (1955)

New York Confidential, Richard Conte and Anne Bancroft
New York Confidential, Richard Conte and Anne Bancroft

I could cheerfully watch Richard Conte sweep the front porch for two hours, but he does far more than that in this grim feature, starring as Nick Magellan, the coolest hitman this side of Jason Bourne. After he efficiently carries out a job for New York syndicate chief Charlie Lupo (Broderick Crawford), Magellan rapidly rises in the ranks of the organization, but all good things must come to an end, and this movie demonstrates that adage more than once. Others on hand include Lupo’s daughter, Kathy (Anne Bancroft), who tries to distance herself from her father’s criminal exploits, and Lupo’s mistress, Iris Palmer (Marilyn Maxwell), who doesn’t hesitate to make it known that she has eyes for Magellan.

Favorite quote: “Loyalty – that’s something you can’t buy. Half the pigs that work for us can’t even spell it.” – Charlie Lupo

Trivia tidbit: The film was directed by Russell Rouse and the screenplay was penned by Rouse and Clarence Greene. This team also played the same roles for the 1953 noir Wicked Woman, which starred Rouse’s future wife, Beverly Michaels.

And that’s AUTUMN at the Noir Nook – what are your “AUTUMN” noirs? Leave a comment and let me know!

– 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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Silver Screen Standards: To Catch a Thief (1955)

Silver Screen Standards: To Catch a Thief (1955)

We mostly associate Alfred Hitchcock with tense thrillers and even horror, thanks to his later hits and TV series, but To Catch a Thief (1955) is something else entirely, a glamorous, action-filled romp that presages the age of 007 with its sun-soaked European locations, chase scenes, and a suave protagonist long accustomed to both luxury and women’s desire. Other film writers have connected the later North by Northwest (1959) to the rise of the Bond era, but To Catch a Thief also gives us a good idea of what Grant’s version of the iconic spy would have looked like, with Grace Kelly and Brigitte Auber as the two women competing for his attention. It’s not a particularly serious picture, and fans of Hitchcock’s darker work might prefer his other collaborations with its two leads, but To Catch a Thief is still a lot of fun if you’re looking for spectacle, romance, and pure escapism.

To Catch a Thief, Cary Grant on roof
Could Cary Grant look any more like 007 than as John Robie prowling a rooftop?

Grant stars as American expat and former cat burglar John Robie, aka The Cat, who has retired from his life of crime and later French Resistance heroism to a very comfortable French villa, while members of his old gang labor in a restaurant run by their associate, Bertani (Charles Vanel). When a string of new robberies copies Robie’s style, the police immediately suspect that The Cat is once again prowling the rooftops of the Riviera, and Bertani’s crew shows open hostility to Robie for endangering everyone’s hard-won parole. Robie sets out to prove his innocence by capturing the real thief with some help from insurance agent Hughson (John Williams) and his clients, wealthy widow Jessie Stevens (Jessie Royce Landis) and her beautiful daughter, Francie (Grace Kelly). As the crime wave continues and Robie closes in on the culprit, both the police and the criminals seem determined to stop him.

To Catch a Thief, Brigitte Auber in water
There’s danger in the water when the jealous Danielle (Brigitte Auber) spots Robie spending time with Francie.

Spectacle in the modern action movie generally means exotic locations, lavish events disrupted by some kind of conflict, chase scenes (both on foot and in high-speed vehicles of various kinds), and daring escapes, all of which To Catch a Thief amply provides. The glamor and excitement of the French Riviera are on full display, heightened for the folks in American movie theaters by the frequent use of French in the dialogue. While Kelly wears a dizzying array of gorgeous Edith Head outfits throughout the movie, the biggest fashion spectacle takes place at the 18th-century costume ball, where dozens of party guests in fancy dress show off their wealth and extravagant taste. Robie has to boat, swim, run, drive, and scurry across rooftops as he tries to elude the police and pursue his own prey. Sure, the rear projection car chase with Francie at the wheel seems quaint by today’s CGI-fueled, physics-defying vehicular pursuits, but for 1955 it’s quite thrilling, even projecting to the audience the danger of the moment by repeatedly showing Robie’s nervous hands in the passenger seat. Robie’s initial escape from the police is less frenetic, but it provides a perfect cameo opportunity for Hitchcock and teaches us to expect clever tricks from the protagonist at every turn.

To Catch a Thief, Cary Grant and Grace Kelly in car
Francie (Grace Kelly) takes Robie out for a picnic drive even though she has already deduced his real identity as the infamous cat burglar.

Romance is the other necessary ingredient for this proto-Bond plot, and here, too, we have plenty on offer. Grant’s Robie, as charming and cool as any international man of mystery could hope to be, attracts three important ladies. Chief among them is Grace Kelly’s thrill-seeking heiress, Francie, who is tired of men constantly courting her for her wealth but fascinated by Robie’s notoriety. Her mother, Jessie, also takes a shine to Robie and frequently hints that if she were younger, Francie would have fierce competition for his attention. Finally, although she boasts a prior claim to Robie’s acquaintance thanks to her family’s long association with the gang, we have Danielle Foussard (Brigitte Auber), a young Frenchwoman who constantly offers to run away with him to South America. Robie, for his part, seems ambivalent about all of them and much more interested in clearing his name, and the movie’s most passionate moment lets fireworks stand in for any real ardor from our hero. Although Grant said that Kelly was one of his favorite leading ladies, he was also famously wary of the increasing age difference between himself and his female costars, a fact much discussed in relation to Charade (1963), and that might factor into Robie’s willingness to let the women chase him instead of the other way round. Grant was 51 when To Catch a Thief debuted, and Kelly was half his age at 26; ironically, the younger character, Danielle, was played by the 30-year-old Auber, making the scene where the two women argue about their respective ages even more amusing. Robie and Francie’s mother, Jessie, are really the closest age peers of the lot, but even though Jessie Royce Landis was only eight years older than Grant she ended up being cast as his mother in their next film together, North by Northwest. As gloriously lovely as Grace Kelly is in the movie, I always feel like Jessie deserves better than being sidelined as the lonely widow, denied even a spark with Hughson thanks to his reference to having a wife whose good opinion he seriously values. At any rate, Robie’s sense of distance from the women who want him only makes them chase him more, and it tracks with the way we later see James Bond rarely make real connections with the women he meets, with Tracy (Diana Rigg) in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969) as the notable – and tragic – exception.

To Catch a Thief, Cary Grant and Grace Kelly in hotel
While Robie might be known as The Cat, Francie is definitely the feline pursuer in their romantic cat and mouse game.

007 himself would arrive on the cinematic scene in 1962 with Sean Connery in the role for Dr. No, and From Russia with Love hit theaters in 1963, the same year as Grant’s appearance in Charade. Grant’s final screen role came in 1996 with Walk, Don’t Run, a remake of the 1943 picture, The More the Merrier, with Grant in the older matchmaker role originally played by Charles Coburn. For more of Cary Grant and Hitchcock, see Suspicion (1941), Notorious (1946), and, of course, North by Northwest. Grace Kelly made two earlier movies with the director: Dial M for Murder (1954) and Rear Window (1954), but she won an Academy Award for Best Actress for The Country Girl (1954). If handsome jewel thieves make your heart flutter, try Jewel Robbery (1932) and The Thomas Crown Affair (1968). For a few of my personal favorites from the Bond franchise, see A View to a Kill (1985), The Living Daylights (1987), and GoldenEye (1995).

— 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: Nick Long Jr.

Classic Movie Travels: Nick Long, Jr.

Nick Long Jr
Nick Long, Jr

While the name Nick Long may be obscure to many, Long’s talent as a dancer is well worth celebrating. In fact, Long was seen as a potential rival to Fred Astaire, though he never connected with audiences in the same way as Astaire.

Nick Long, Jr. was born on August 14, 1904, to vaudeville and theatre actors Nick and Idalene Long in Greenlawn, New York. As his entertainment career went on, Long shaved off two years from his birthday, typically listing that he was born in 1906.

By the age of three, Long was traveling along with his parents on their performance tours, visiting locations like Winnipeg and San Francisco. In 1907, Long and his parents were involved in a car accident in Huntington, New York, with his mother breaking her leg and Long being hurled into the air.

Once they recovered, Long and his parents were back on the road. He toured with his parents as they performed in The Banker and the Thief at the Wigwam Theatre and Managerial Trouble at the Empress Theater, both in San Francisco. By 1914, his parent filed for bankruptcy.

Soon, Long himself entered the entertainment world as a performer. He performed as part of the Hotel Astor Benefit for the Theater Club with two scenes from Things That Count as well as performances of Things That Count, co-starring his parents,at the DeKalb Theater in New York and the Belasco Theater in Washington, D.C. While working as a performer, he also attended the Professional Children’s School with Milton Berle. His first performance on camera occurred in the silent film Hearts of Men (1915) as a “Bad Little Boy.”

Long would go on to perform in Pollyanna at the Hudson Theater in New York before more steadily transitioning to films with The Corner Grocer (1917). He participated in independent plays and Broadway musicals in the 1920s before retiring from acting altogether in the 1930s.

June Knight, Nick Long Jr. and Robert Taylor in Broadway Melody of 1936
June Knight, Nick Long Jr. and Robert Taylor in Broadway Melody of 1936

In the 1930s, he took on three roles that were secondary and typically participated in dance numbers. From 1934 to 1939, he resided in London, where he worked as an actor and dancer with Danny Kaye. He went on to dance in Autumn Leaves of Frederick Ashton in both London and Manchester.

By far, Long was an active dancer and actor on Broadway. Though his film career was relatively short, his most famous acting and dancing role was in Broadway Melody of 1936 (1935). Moreover, his contemporaries considered him a rival to the likes of Astaire, but Long failed to connect with moviegoing audiences. As a result, Long was more interested in appearing in nightclubs and stage revues.

Long appeared in the pioneer BBC Television broadcast of “Autumn Laughter” in 1938 with Kaye.

In 1939, Long was recruited for service in World War II but was ultimately released after seven months.

Long passed away from severe head injuries following an automobile collision on August 31, 1949, in New York. The accident occurred on August 29, 1949, when he was returning from night club and vaudeville engagements in New England during a storm.

Long was laid to rest at Cypress Hills Cemetery in New York in the family plot, though his name is not on the family marker as he was the last family member to pass. He was 45 years old.

Today, some points of interest relating to Long remain. In 1920, he lived at 213 W. 109th St., New York, New York. In 1936, he lived at the Bristol Hotel at 129 W. 48th St., New York, New York. Both of these buildings have been razed.

In 1942, he lived at the Bryant Hotel. Today, this is the Ameritania Hotel and is located at 230 W. 54th St., New York, New York.

Ameritania Hotel (formerly the Bryant Hotel), New York City
Ameritania Hotel (formerly the Bryant Hotel), New York City

At the time of his passing, Long resided at the Markwell Hotel. Though the building is no longer functioning as the Markwell Hotel, it stands at 220 W. 49th St., New York, New York.

Markwell Hotel, New York City
Markwell Hotel, New York City

The automobile accident occurred on the corner of 236th St. and Henry Hudson Pkwy. in New York, New York.

Afterwards, Long was taken to Jewish Memorial Hospital, where he passed away. The hospital was razed in 1982.

Cypress Hills Cemetery is located at 833 Jamaica Ave., Brooklyn, 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, Ph.D., is a film historian, professor, and avid scholar of Hollywood’s Golden Age. She manages the “Hometowns to Hollywood” blog, in which she profiles her trips to the hometowns of classic Hollywood stars. She has also been featured on the popular classic film-oriented television network, Turner Classic Movies. A regular columnist for Classic Movie Hub, her articles have appeared in TCM Backlot, Silent Film Quarterly, Nostalgia Digest, The Dark Pages Film Noir Newsletter, and Chicago Art Deco Society Magazine.

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It Came From Texas Film Festival: Classic Films and True Tales

So excited to announce
The Third Annual
It Came From Texas Film Festival 🙂

For fans that can make it to Garland Texas next week, get ready for a true big-screen treat! The Third Annual It Came From Texas Film Festival is taking center stage at the historic Plaza Theatre in Downtown Garland from September 12–14, 2025, and this year’s lineup is more ‘Texas’ than ever.

Proudly sponsored by the City of Garland and Garland Cultural Arts, the festival celebrates True Texas Tales showcasing films made in the Lone Star State — plus special guests, experts, and even some comedy to keep things lively.

It Came From Texas Annual Film Festival poster

What’s Playing

This year’s schedule brings together classic films, documentaries, and cult favorites — all with Texas ties:

  • Bonnie and Clyde (1967) — Friday night kicks off with Arthur Penn’s classic. Includes a discussion with Bonnie Parker’s niece Rhea Leen Linder, Clyde Barrow’s nephew Buddy Barrow, and former FBI Analyst and Bonnie and Clyde expert Farris Rookstool III.
  • Secret Screening with Mocky Horror Picture Show — A Friday night surprise Larry Buchanan film with Live Comedy Riffing by Mocky Horror Picture Show.
  • Bernie (2011) — Saturday opens with Richard Linklater’s dark comedy, starring Jack Black and Shirley MacLaine. Includes a conversation with Skip Hollandsworth, the Texas Monthly journalist whose article inspired the film, and actor Larry Jack Dotson.
  • JFK: Breaking the News (2003) — A fascinating documentary about how Dallas reporters covered the Kennedy assassination, introduced by Stephen Fagin from The Sixth Floor Museum. Panelists include Dr. Sean Griffin (SMU film historian) and Farris Rookstool III (also a JFK assassination expert).
  • The Great Debaters (2007) + The Real Great Debaters (2008) — A Saturday night double-feature – Denzel Washington’s stirring drama paired with the inspiring true documentary. Includes a discussion with filmmaker Brad Osborne and Wiley University coach Ernest Mack.
  • The Alamo (1960) — Sunday brings out the big guns with John Wayne’s sweeping epic. Includes a discussion with Wayne’s granddaughter Anita La Cava Swift and historian/author Jack Edmondson.
  • Viva Max! (1969) — Closing night gets a comedic twist with this zany satire starring Peter Ustinov and Jonathan Winters — proof that Texans know how to laugh at their own legends. 🙂

Guest Stars & Experts

Festival director Kelly Kitchens has once again gathered authors, historians, and even family members of legendary figures to help put these films in context. And film historian, Gordon K. Smith, returns to add his encyclopedic knowledge (and personal memories from working on 2004’s The Alamo) to the mix.

It Came from Texas 3rd Annual Film Festival

Tickets & Festival Perks

  • All-Access Festival Pass: $75 (limited availability)
    • Early admission
    • Commemorative poster
    • Discounts at local businesses
  • Individual Tickets: $10–$20 per screening

👉 Buy passes and tickets here: Prekindle – It Came From Texas


When & Where

  • Dates: September 12–14, 2025
  • Venue: Plaza Theatre, 521 W. State Street, Downtown Garland, TX

More info at: GarlandArts.com


Hope you can drop by if you’re in the Garland area next week 🙂

–Annmarie Gatti for Classic Movie Hub

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Noir Nook: Stranger Than Fiction – Part 1

Noir Nook: Stranger Than Fiction – Part 1 (Steve Cochran)

“Truth is stranger than fiction,” Mark Twain once informed us, “but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn’t.” 

This month’s Noir Nook introduces a new series that looks actors and actresses who were frequently seen in shadowy situations on the big screen, but who led off-screen lives that would rival the plots of any one of their movies. For the first in my series, I’m shining the spotlight on actor Steve Cochran.

Steve Cochran 1
Steve Cochran

The tough-guy actor with the dark good looks was born Robert Alexander Cochran in Eureka, California, on May 25, 1917. He grew up in Wyoming; in high school, he was involved in athletics like basketball and boxing, and demonstrated an interest in cartooning and architecture. But after only a year at Wyoming University, he dropped out to pursue an acting career, joining the Federal Theatre Project in Detroit. He honed his craft during the next several years in a variety of stage productions throughout the country and on several radio programs. He finally got his big break in the mid-1940s, when his appearance in a New York Theatre Guild production caught the attention of producer Sam Goldwyn, and he made his film debut in a 1945 Danny Kaye starrer, The Wonder Man.

Cochran entered the realm of film noir the following year, playing a smooth criminal in The Chase (1946) and earning praise from critics for his “impressive performance.” Some of his other noir features include White Heat (1949), where he was seen as the ill-fated rival of star James Cagney; The Damned Don’t Cry (1950), starring opposite Joan Crawford as an ambitious gang leader; and Private Hell 36 (1954), where he was on the right side of the law, but the wrong side of morality.

Steve Cochran and James Cagney, White Heat
James Cagney and Steve Cochran, White Heat

The actor’s film performances usually resulted in favorable reviews, but it was his life off-screen that attracted the most publicity. On New Year’s Day 1952, he became involved in the first of many encounters with the law when he got into a fight with a party guest, a former professional boxer named Lenwood Wright. During the altercation, Cochran hit Wright over the head with a baseball bat; according to the actor, the attack was in self-defense and no charges were filed, but Wright later filed a civil suit against Cochran and was awarded $16,000 in damages. (That amount was reduced the following month to $7,500 by a Superior Court judge.)

Steve Cochran, Howard Duff and Ida Lupino, Private Hell 36
Steve Cochran, Howard Duff and Ida Lupino, Private Hell 36

The following year, Cochran was arrested for reckless driving and evading arrest after a five-mile car chase with police. He pleaded guilty and paid a minor fine, telling reporters that he “just wanted to show my friends how my new sports car would corner.” And in 1956, the actor reportedly became the first person to receive a flying ticket issued by a police helicopter. Cochran – who had around 100 miles of flying time behind him – received the citation after flying over his mountaintop home in Studio City and rocking his wings. He was fined $500 and grounded for 90 days. Then, in 1964, Cochran was back in the news in two separate incidents – in the first, the actor was arrested on a civil court order after a local disc jockey accused him of adultery. And a few months later, singer Ronie Rae alleged that Cochran had beaten and gagged her. In the latter case, Cochran confirmed that Rae was at his home to audition for a new film he was producing, but stated that he restrained her with neckties because she began “hurtling herself about.” It was determined that Rae was on drugs and Cochran was cleared of all charges, with officials stating that Cochran “may have done [Rae] a great service by tying her up.” The charges in the first case were dropped as well, after the disc jockey admitted that his sole evidence was a thank-you note his wife had received from Cochran.

Steve Cochran, The Chase
Steve Cochran, The Chase

But Cochran’s unusual experiences weren’t limited to court cases and run-ins with police. Between acting assignments, he’d added boating to his repertoire of fast cars and airplanes, usually without incident. But this uneventful stretch came to an end in the late 1950s when his 35-foot ketch had to be hauled to safety by the U.S. Coast Guart after the actor spent a scary night in the Catalina Channel, bailing water from the boat. And in 1960, after running into heavy fog, his yacht crashed into a Los Angeles breakwater, and he and others on the boat – a 19-year-old lady friend, two dogs, and a monkey – were forced to dive into the water.

But the actor’s strangest stranger-than-fiction episode was yet to come. The film that Ronie Rae was auditioning for, called Captain O’Flynn, was based on the adventures of a real-life ship captain named Lee Quinn, who sailed the Pacific with an all-female crew. Before filming the movie, Cochran decided to recreate one of Quinn’s voyages by hiring three Mexican women to accompany him on an eight-day trip from Acapulco to Costa Rica. Sadly, the trip would be the final adventure of Cochran’s life.

Steve Cochran 2

Three weeks after Cochran and the three women set sail, the actor’s 40-foot yacht was towed into a Guatemalan port – and Cochran was dead. It was later determined that Cochran had been stricken with a paralyzing lung ailment called acute infection edema and died 10 days after departing Acapulco. After his death, the women drifted for nearly two weeks before being rescued.

Cochran was just 49 years old.

Adventurous, ambitious, and bold, Cochran was just beginning to explore new aspects of his film career at the time of his untimely and shocking death – he’d started his own production company in the early 1950s, and his initial outing as director, Tell Me in the Sunlight, was completed shortly before he died. Given the actor’s frequent encounters with the law, his boating misfortunes, and the manner in which he perished, it can certainly be said that his life was stranger than fiction.

Tune in next month for Part 2 of Stranger Than Fiction . . .

– 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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Western RoundUp: Shane (1953)

Western RoundUp: Shane (1953)

Shane (1953), the classic Western directed by George Stevens, has just been released on 4K and Blu-ray by Kino Lorber Studio Classics.

Shane Poster 1

Thanks to the Blu-ray I’ve revisited the movie for the first time since seeing it in 35mm at the Autry Museum of the American West back in 2011.

Regular viewers will know that I love some vaunted Western classics and am indifferent to a handful of others. For instance, I adore Rio Bravo (1959), which I wrote about here in 2021, but don’t especially care for High Noon (1952), as I wrote last year.

I’m firmly in the “thumbs up” category when it comes to Shane. Director Stevens may have done relatively little work in the Western genre, but he “gets” it, directing the film with a Fordian beauty, in terms of both story and visuals. At the same time, there’s a feeling of true authenticity to go along with the film’s moving story and gorgeous setting, from the barroom brawl to the mud-caked streets to the occasionally annoying little boy.

Shane Poster 2

The plot, as many will already know, is fairly simple, organized around the classic “ranchers vs. farmers” theme.

Joe and Marian Starrett (Van Heflin and Jean Arthur) are raising their young son Joey (Brandon De Wilde) on their humble Wyoming homestead.

Older rancher Rufus Ryker (an almost unrecognizable Emile Meyer) wants his cattle to run free and resents the fences the Starretts and other farmers have brought to the valley to protect their crops. An ugly range war is gearing up, as Ryker intends to force out the settlers, and the peaceable farmers may not be able to withstand the violence of Ryker and his men.

Shane Color

One day a loner named Shane wanders into the valley and impulsively helps the Starretts when they’re being pressured by Ryker and his men. Shane befriends the Starretts and stays on to work for them; he is both a savior and a source of conflict, as Joey idolizes Shane and a very subtle, unspoken attraction grows between Shane and Marian.

Eventually Ryker summons a mean hired gun, Wilson (Jack Palance, billed as Walter Jack Palance), to town, and matters come to a head.

As is so often the case with great movies, including the aforementioned Rio Bravo, it’s a deceptively simple premise, but it’s what the filmmakers do with the story which matters. Layered on top of this basic plot are moments which make this film as rich as any great art. Shane is 118 minutes of pure Western movie magic.

Shane Poster 3

The film’s beauty begins with the score by Victor Young and Loyal Griggs’ gorgeous location filming in Wyoming.

One of the back stories to the making of Shane I particularly love is that, while he didn’t film there, Stevens’ overall design of the film was inspired by my favorite town in the Eastern High Sierras, Bridgeport, California. Film noir fans may recognize Bridgeport as the setting director Jacques Tourneur chose for both Out of the Past (1947) and Nightfall (1957).

In an interview Stevens described Bridgeport as “very unlike other California towns” and went on to talk about how it impacted his vision of Shane: “There was the funeral on the hilltop, and there was the distance where the cattle grazed, and then there was the town at the crossing, a western gown like other western towns were. There were the great mountains that rose behind it. This was all arranged in one camera view… That worked its way into the picture from an idea that came to me in Bridgeport…”

Below is my photograph of Bridgeport, exactly as seen from the hilltop cemetery:

Bridgeport Seen From Cemetery 2020

And here is a photograph of the meadow just beyond town, where the cattle from Hunewill Ranch are often seen grazing, with the mountains in the background:

Bridgeport Meadows

I thought of these familiar scenes while revisiting Shane. Stevens really captures the Western atmosphere as he described it.

The Shane cast is topped by Alan Ladd in the title role, and while he may not have been the first choice — Stevens initially considered Montgomery Clift — he’s absolutely perfect. As my late friend Paddy once wrote, Ladd’s voice is “an amazing instrument,” and it’s hard to imagine Shane sounding any other way than with Ladd’s unique, low-pitched voice.

Contrary to his detractors, I also find Ladd an exciting actor; is there a greater moment than Shane spinning his gun back into his holster near the end, as the audience breathes a sigh of relief? I’d add I find comments about Ladd’s short height annoying in the extreme; the character Shane is all about attitude, and Ladd has it to spare. And going back to his breakout role in This Gun for Hire (1942), Ladd also had a particular ability to convey both lethality and loneliness, key attributes for Shane. He was perfectly cast in every way.

Alan Ladd

Jean Arthur had worked with George Stevens on the classic comedy The More the Merrier (1943) a decade earlier. Although she’s strangely stuck with a “mop” hairstyle which doesn’t look like any other woman in the film, Arthur’s performance is excellent. Arthur was older than her costars, but her looks fit a woman who has been working hard on the frontier. Like Ladd, Arthur silently conveys a woman who has deep longings but is ever honorable. These fully rounded, conflicted yet ultimately honorable characters — whose feelings are often communicated without words — are a part of what makes Shane special.

Van Heflin likewise does a great deal with his part; Joe is an ordinary guy but he’s determined to stand up for his right to work his land, and he takes a leadership role with the other farmers. He’s different from Shane, a settled and ostensibly less glamorous character, yet brave in his own way. And once again Heflin as Joe doesn’t always need dialogue to express his feelings.

Shane Cast

There’s a well-remembered scene at a dance where Joe stands behind a fence and his face registers the recognition there’s something brewing between Shane and his wife; at the same time, as he later says, his wife is “the most honest and finest girl that ever lived” and he knows she would never act on this. And he’s practical enough to consider that if he doesn’t survive the range war, it’s likely Shane would look out for his beloved wife and son. The West wasn’t an easy place.

Shane’s relationship with the awestruck Joey, as he teaches young Joey things he’ll need to know as he grows, brings to mind for me a similar relationship between John Wayne and Lee Aaker in John Farrow’s Hondo (1953), released the same year as Shane. People like to make fun of “Come back, Shane!” but I’d suggest the very reason that scene is still remembered and joked about, decades later, is exactly because it’s so effective.

Shane and Joey

One of my favorite characters in the film is Chris, played by an all-time favorite Western actor, Ben Johnson. Chris starts out as a bully who faces off with Shane in an incredibly real-looking barroom brawl. While Johnson’s part was sadly cut down from what was originally planned, later in the film he wordlessly (there’s that term again!) conveys Chris’s disgust and guilt when the hired gun Wilson shoots one of the settlers (Elisha Cook Jr.). Johnson has a very nice final scene opposite Ladd, and I enjoyed that payoff, even as I wished we’d seen a little more of his character and his evolution.

Shane and Chris

Small roles are nicely played by a terrific cast which also includes Ellen Corby, Douglas Spencer, Edgar Buchanan, John Dierkes, Paul McVey, Nancy Kulp, and Beverly Washburn. Two of Ladd’s children, David and Alana, have bit roles.

Shane was written by A.B. Guthrie Jr., with additional dialogue by Jack Sher, based on a novel by Jack Schaefer

Kino Lorber’s 4K and Blu-ray print is from a new HD master from a 4K scan of the original 35mm camera negative. The print is absolutely beautiful. I love seeing films in 35mm, but this Blu-ray far surpassed the 35mm print I saw the first time I viewed this movie.

Shane KL4K
Shane KLBR

For both the 4K and the Blu-ray, Shane is presented as a Special Edition with a cardboard slipcase. The disc includes the trailer; a gallery of nine additional trailers of other Westerns available from Kino Lorber; an archival commentary track by George Stevens Jr. and Ivan Moffatt; and a brand-new commentary track by Alan K. Rode. As I wrote here last month, Rode has a forthcoming book on the making of Shane which will be published in the Reel West series from the University of New Mexico Press.

Both Shane and Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray (or 4K, for those who have a player) are highly recommended.

Thanks to Kino Lorber for providing a review copy of this Blu-ray.

The photographs of Bridgeport are from the author’s personal collection.

– 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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Classic Movie Travels: June Marlowe

June Marlowe

June Marlowe

June Marlowe was born Gisela Valaria Goetten to Hedwig and John Goetten on November 6, 1903, in St. Cloud, Minnesota. She and her siblings—Armor E. Goetten, Louis Marlowe, Alona Marlowe, and Gerald Goetten—all eventually realized careers in the film industry.

Marlowe was of German descent and could speak the language fluently. She loved animals—particularly horses. Her father owned a meat market in St. Cloud. As a child, Marlowe was a student at St. Mary’s Parochial School and Tech High School. The family often enjoyed winters by ice skating on Lake George and summering on Spunk Lake in Minnesota.

In 1920, her family moved to Los Angeles, California. There, she attended Hollywood High School, where she was discovered while performing in a school play, Director Malcolm St. Clair found her an agent and arranged for her screen debut in Fighting Blood (1923). In the following years, she appeared in Find Your Man (1924), Tracked in the Snow Country (1925), Below the Line (1925), The Clash of the Wolves (1925), The Night Cry (1926) starring beloved German Shepherd icon Rin Tin Tin, among additional film roles.

Rin Tin Tin and June Marlowe

By 1926, she was a contract player for Warner Brothers. She became one of the Western Association of Motion Picture Advertisers (WAMPAS) Baby Stars in 1925 and soon worked for Universal Studios. At Universal, she appeared in Fangs of Justice (1926), starring Silver Streak—often billed as Silver Streak King of Dog Stars, Dog of Wonder, or The Wonder Dog—Universal’s answer to rival Warner Bros.’ Rin Tin Tin. She also performed in Wild Beauty (1927) starring Rex—a horse billed similarly to Silver Streak as Rex the Wonder Horse or King of the Wild Horses.

Marlowe also had the distinction of appearing in Don Juan (1926), the first synchronized sound film. The film starred John Barrymore and used the Vitaphone sound-on-disc sound system in conjunction with a synchronized musical score and sound effects, though not featuring spoken dialogue.

As sound entered into films, Marlowe’s career was faltering and she was considering leaving the industry. However, a chance encounter with director Robert McGowan in a Los Angeles department store gave her career a boost. McGowan was seeking an actress to play the part of a teacher in the Our Gang children’s comedies. Marlowe was considered for the role and producer Hal Roach suggested that she wear a blonde wig to the color of the show’s lead child actor, Jackie Cooper. She was ultimately cast as Miss Crabtree in the series.

Marlowe appeared in several Our Gang shorts including Teacher’s Pet (1930), School’s Out (1930), Love Business (1931), and Little Daddy (1931). She also performed in Pardon Us (1931), starring Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy—another Roach production.

June Marlowe, Our Gang

In 1933, Marlowe married businessman Rodney Sprigg. She retired from acting to be a housewife and was happy to be remembered for her role as Miss Crabtree. She and Sprigg traveled extensively and she visited St. Cloud often. They remained married until his passing in 1982.

Marlowe consistently refused offers from Roach to return as Miss Crabtree. The rights to Our Gang were sold to MGM in 1938 and the series was discontinued in 1944. However, the series experienced a renewal through syndication on television, billed as The Little Rascals. This revival in interest led to a publisher commissioning Marlowe to write children’s books. She completed two books—Beezy and Furry—before issues with Parkinson’s disease prevented her from completing the full series.

Marlowe passed away due to complications from Parkinson’s disease on March 10, 1984, in Burbank, California. She was 80 years old. Initially, she was buried at San Fernando Mission Cemetery and she later shared the same headstone with her brother, Louis, who passed away in 1991. However, in 2002, they were moved to the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels Mausoleum in Los Angeles, where her parents and siblings are interred.

Presently, some of Marlowe’s homes exist. In 1910, her family resided at 217 10th Ave. N., St. Cloud, Minnesota. This home stands today.

217 10th Ave. N., St. Cloud, Minnesota

In 1920, the family lived at 2715 Bryant Ave. S., Minneapolis, Minnesota, which also stands.

2715 Bryant Ave. S., Minneapolis, Minnesota

By 1929, the family moved to 1935 Rodney Dr., Los Angeles, California. This home has since been razed.

In 1940, she lived with Sprigg and two of his four sons from a previous marriage at 1629 Cosmo St., Los Angeles, California, which stands.

1629 Cosmo St., Los Angeles, California

In 1945, she and Sprigg lived at 2044 1st Ave., San Diego, California, with Rodney. This home no longer stands.

Marlowe is connected to an additional tribute: In the show The Simpsons, the schoolteacher character was named Edna Krabappel. The character’s name takes creative liberty with the word “crabapple,” in reference to the Miss Crabtree character.

–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, Ph.D., is a film historian, professor, and avid scholar of Hollywood’s Golden Age. She manages the “Hometowns to Hollywood” blog, in which she profiles her trips to the hometowns of classic Hollywood stars. She has also been featured on the popular classic film-oriented television network, Turner Classic Movies. A regular columnist for Classic Movie Hub, her articles have appeared in TCM Backlot, Silent Film Quarterly, Nostalgia Digest, The Dark Pages Film Noir Newsletter, and Chicago Art Deco Society Magazine.

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Silver Screen Standards: Fifty Years of Jaws (1975)

Silver Screen Standards: Fifty Years of Jaws (1975)

Some people watch fireworks every year on the Fourth of July, but I watch Jaws (1975). Steven Spielberg’s iconic adaptation of the novel by Peter Benchley has long been a favorite of mine, so much so that I wrote a model essay about the use of music in Jaws for my students back in 1995, when I was a teaching assistant just starting my PhD program in English Literature. My love for the film hasn’t dimmed over the decades, and 2025 is an especially good time to revisit Jaws as it celebrates fifty years since its original theatrical release. Not everyone shares my enthusiasm for the movie, I know, especially with Jaws sometimes taking the blame for the endless onslaught of empty-headed summer hits we endure today, but despite its box office success the original summer blockbuster is no soulless cash grab. Jaws is, in fact, a cinematic masterpiece, a true classic where every shot, note, and character work in service to a story that functions as modern mythology.

Jaws Scheider Hamilton
Chief Brody (Roy Scheider) wants to close the beaches, but the mayor (Murray Hamilton) refuses to believe the danger is worth the loss of income.

Roy Scheider stars as Amity Island’s Police Chief Martin Brody, a newcomer in the small seaside community along with his wife, Ellen (Lorraine Gary), and their two young sons. A loving father and conscientious safety officer, Brody tries to take action as soon as the shark’s first victim is discovered, but the town’s leaders value their summer profits more than public welfare, and they insist that the beaches remain open for the Fourth of July weekend. More gruesome deaths follow, and Brody is eventually able to bring in scientific expert Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) and hire local shark hunter Quint (Robert Shaw). The three men venture out on Quint’s boat, the Orca, to hunt down the massive great white, whose strength and ferocity become apparent as it attempts to destroy the men and their vessel.

Jaws Dreyfuss
Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) is the youngest of the three protagonists and a voice for science and reason in his approach to sharks.

One element that sets Jaws above modern blockbusters is its commitment to character. Each of our three main characters is both a very specific individual and also an archetype representing one stage in a man’s life. Hooper, with the blond curls and short stature of a young Richard Dreyfuss, is barely out of boyhood in spite of his scientific knowledge, and he possesses all the enthusiasm and energy of youth. Brody embodies the traits of the father, and we see his paternal devotion in multiple scenes with his sons, not only in moments of peril but also at home. Although Robert Shaw was only five years older than Scheider, and not yet fifty when he made the film, his character, Quint, still fills the role of the grizzled elder, a man who has seen much and been scarred (literally and figuratively) by his experiences. Youth and age inevitably clash, with Hooper and Quint constantly in conflict until their scar contest reveals Quint’s history as a survivor of the USS Indianapolis. Each man brings his own values and worldview to the mission: Hooper wants knowledge, Brody wants safety, and Quint wants revenge. Together they form a mythic trinity – not exactly Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, perhaps, but something like it, a masculine version of the maiden/mother/crone figures so familiar in legends and literature.

Jaws Shaw
Quint (Robert Shaw) is a seasoned shark hunter who doubts the abilities of his companions and their chances for success against the great white.

Jaws also succeeds in giving us memorable antagonists with their own symbolic resonance. We have the titular shark, of course, a sublime creature in the Romantic sense, inspiring terror and awe in all who see it. The movie unfortunately made sharks widely hated by a fearful public, but the great white of the film is no more representative of real sharks than Hannibal Lecter is of normal human beings. The killer shark is Moby Dick to Quint’s Ahab. It is death and fate incarnate, the ultimate embodiment of “Nature red in tooth and claw.” The title of the film reduces the beast to its most basic element – the insatiable, all-devouring jaws of death. The shark is a monster, to be sure, but so is Mayor Larry Vaughn (Murray Hamilton), and the banal evil of the mayor is really the more frightening of the two because people like him exist everywhere. The mayor and his fellow town leaders deny, deflect, and defend to protect their own financial interests in spite of the danger the shark poses to both locals and tourists. They try to cover up the deaths of the first victims, they prevent Brody from closing the beaches, and the mayor even pushes one of his cronies to take his whole family into the water. Vaughn’s disregard for innocent lives in the pursuit of profit makes him the ultimate capitalist and politician. We long to see him be eaten by the shark, but of course Vaughn never goes into the water himself, and he retains his power to undermine public safety again in the sequel, Jaws 2 (1978).

Jaws Scheider boat
Brody gets his first closeup view of the shark and concludes that they need a bigger boat.

As I mentioned earlier, the music of Jaws has always been one of my favorite elements of the film. The cinematography, locations, editing, and sound all contribute to the movie’s power, but if you mention Jaws to almost anyone, you’re likely to get a rendition of that iconic, menacing theme music. The shark’s theme has become a popular musical symbol for impending doom, and it, along with the rest of his brilliant work for the picture, earned John Williams an Academy Award for Best Original Score, a Grammy Award, a BAFTA, and a Golden Globe. Unfortunately, the film’s characters can’t hear the ominous notes that warn the audience of the shark’s approach, but they have their own diegetic music to communicate their perspectives. The most significant diegetic music in the film is Quint’s repeated use of the “Yankee Whalerman” variant of a traditional sea shanty called “Spanish Ladies.” Quint sings the tune as his own prediction of death and disaster, especially where Hooper is concerned, which is why it matters when Hooper gets Quint to give up the dirge in favor of the more cheerful and companionable drinking song, “Show Me the Way to Go Home.” When the three men share the song, they bond over communal experience, but the songs also contrast Quint’s fatalism with Hooper and Brody’s strong desire to return to the safety of their homes. For me personally, that scene holds special meaning because my grandfather, like Quint, survived being thrown into the Pacific Ocean when his ship, the USS Franklin, was hit by a Japanese dive bomber on March 19, 1945. When I hear Quint’s story and the men singing together, I think of the long, terrifying hours my grandfather spent in the water, surrounding by the wounded and the dead and wondering if he would ever see his own home again, and I think of his shipmates, 807 in all, who did not survive that day. Eighty years after the sinking of the Indianapolis on July 30, 1945, this scene helps to keep its story, and the untold stories of thousands of men like my grandfather, alive for generations of viewers who were born long after the end of World War II.

Jaws Main Trio - Shaw, Schneider, Dreyfuss
Quint, Brody, and Hooper realize that this shark is unlike any they’ve encountered before.

The box office success of the original Jaws led to a series of sequels, but only Jaws 2 (1978) brings Roy Scheider back as Chief Brody, along with Murray Hamilton and Lorraine Gary. It’s not a bad horror movie, but it’s really a teen slasher story with the shark in place of the masked killer. Roy Scheider was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for The French Connection (1971), but you can also see him in Klute (1971), Marathon Man (1976), Sorcerer (1977), and All That Jazz (1979). Robert Shaw, a trained Shakespearean stage actor and successful writer, earned his own Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor for his portrayal of Henry VIII in A Man for All Seasons (1966); he also had memorable roles in From Russia with Love (1963) and Robin and Marian (1976), but I am weirdly fond of his 1976 flop, Swashbuckler. For more thoughtful creature features, see Spielberg’s 1993 blockbuster hit, Jurassic Park, or the excellent 2017 King Kong reboot, Kong: Skull Island. For a humorous take on the genre, check out Tremors (1990), but if you’re looking for more monster sharks, you’ll find them in Deep Blue Sea (1999).

— 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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Silents Are Golden: A Closer Look At: Cabiria (1914)

A Closer Look At: Cabiria (1914)

Cabiria 1

In 1914, most films ranged from one to three reels long–half an hour or less. But as filmmakers were growing more confident about telling longer, more complex stories, the occasional hour-long film was released. Arguably, it was Italy that really got the ball rolling on features that were both lengthy (even crossing the two hour mark) and epic in scale. And in 1914, no film was longer or more epic than the twelve-reel Cabiria (1914), filmed in Turin and set during the Punic Wars of the 3rd century BC.

Cabiria 2

The film was masterminded by director Giovanni Pastrone, a name that’s rarely heard nowadays even when Cabiria is being discussed. Pastrone grew up with a passion for music (he even handmade his own instruments), and balanced his artistic side by studying accounting. He was clearly attracted to grand, epic stories from history. When he was put in charge of the newly-formed Itala Film Company, he was soon making ambitious shorts like Henry the Third (1909), Julius Caesar (1909) and The Fall of Troy (1911). Likely inspired by lengthy films such as Milano Films’ L’Inferno (1911) and Enrico Guazzoni’s Quo Vadis (1913), he apparently decided he was going to outdo them all.

Cabiria 3 - Giovanni Pastrone
Giovanni Pastrone

Pastrone largely drew upon Emilio Salgari’s 1908 novel Carthage in Flames and Gustave Flaubert’s 1862 novel Salammbô. He also convinced famed Italian author Gabriele D’Annunzio to collaborate with him, having him rewrite the title cards and name the characters (which included “Cabiria” herself). Having D’Annunzio’s name attached to the film gave it extra gravitas, although it did result in Patrone’s own name being overshadowed–as it tends to be to this very day.

Told in five parts (or “episodes”), Cabiria follows a wealthy Roman family whose home in Sicily is destroyed during the eruption of Mount Etna. They mourn the apparent loss of their little daughter, Cabiria, not knowing that she escaped with some of the family’s servants. Cabiria is captured by Phoenician pirates who sell her as a slave in Carthage, and she narrowly escapes becoming a human sacrifice during a pagan ritual to the god Moloch. Ten years pass, during which we see recreations of such famed historical events as Hannibal crossing the Alps and the siege of Syracuse, when Archimedes’ “heat ray” mirrors were used to set Roman ships on fire. (A title card states: “A device, never before seen is suddenly, divinely revealed…”)

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The film is practically stuffed with characters, from Roman spies to slaves to Hasdrubal the brother of Hannibal, but fortunately the character of Cabiria gives the film a unifying thread. Pastrone made his film as grand as he could, especially considering the limitations of film technology at the time. His smooth, stately tracking shots helped popularize moving camera techniques, and other effects included the careful use of miniatures. Crowds of extras were enlisted and a number of people also did their own stunts. Scenes at seaside cliffs, mountains and deserts added grandeur and authenticity.

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And of course, befitting its status as an epic, there were some impressive large-scale sets. In the film’s most famous sequence, the young Cabiria is sold to the high priest Karthalo and brought to the Temple of Moloch. The enormous temple set, with its entrance shaped like the three-eyed, bull-headed god’s massive open mouth, is still astonishing today. Scenes showing the bronze statue of Moloch, with its chest that yawns open so child sacrifices can be slid into its interior furnace, are among the most iconic in early film.

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Cabiria premiered in grand style at the Teatro Vittorio Emmanuele in Turin, accompanied by an 80-piece orchestra and a choir of 70 (a special score had been written by Ildebrando Pizzetti). In Rome, airplanes dropped flyers on the city to hail its coming. It would end up being a worldwide hit, often playing for weeks in theaters in a time when many films were shown for a day or two. Critics were in awe–an article in Motion Picture News said: “The picture well-nigh beggars description. Words are feeble in their capacity to convey the impressions created by the series of stupendous spectacles which are here welded together into one gigantic photodrama by the shrewdest craftsmen of Italy’s motion picture world.” A writer for Moving Picture World was equally effusive: “Summing up it may well be said that Cabiria ranks in the very first flight of the masterpieces of kinematographic art. Nor must I omit a tribute to Italy, the country which has given us all our greatest classics in films.”

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Cabiria would influence countless “spectaculars” that followed it, most notably Intolerance (1916) with its grand scenes set in ancient Babylon. Today it survives in good condition, easy to find and watch on our 21st century devices. The acting seems far more stilted than it was in 1914, and the archetypical characters seem more remote. But there’s still elegance in its cinematography and art direction and the stunts are timelessly impressive. Watching it today, I quickly understand what Roger Ebert meant when he wrote: “The movie feels old, and by that I mean older than 1914. It feels like a view of ancient times, or at least of those times as imagined a century ago. We are looking into two levels of a time machine.”

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–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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