Noir Nook: Darkest Noirs

Noir Nook: Darkest Noirs

One of the features of film noir that I love most is the sheer “darkness” of the plots, characters, and themes. The darker, the better, in fact – no happy endings for me!

This month, at the Nook, I’m shining the spotlight on two of my favorite films noirs which – perhaps not so coincidentally – happen to be among the noirs I consider to be the darkest. Fair warning – if you haven’t seen these, you might want to take a stroll down a shadowy street and circle back after you’ve checked them out, because this post is going to be heavily spoilerific.

And away we go!


Criss Cross

One of the films that will be on every Top 10 Film Noir list that I ever compile is Criss Cross, released in 1949 and starring Burt Lancaster, Yvonne DeCarlo, and Dan Duryea. Generously employing flashbacks and voiceover narration, the film tells the story of Steve Thompson (Lancaster), an essentially stand-up guy with a fatal weakness for the wrong woman. That woman is Anna (DeCarlo), Steve’s ex-wife, turned girlfriend, turned ex-girlfriend, turned secret lover (whew!). And then there’s callous crime boss Slim Dundee (Duryea), whose marriage to Anna throws a sizable monkey wrench into the proceedings. And things really go awry when Steve covers for a clandestine meeting with Anna by pitching a payroll-truck robbery to Slim.

Dark Noirs Yvonne DeCarlo
Yvonne DeCarlo

These three characters clearly furnish a significant portion of the film’s bleak ambience. Steve is passionate but weak-willed and naïve, while Slim has a straightforward, indisputable aura of ruthlessness. But Anna? She’s all over the place – it’s not until the concluding minutes of the film, in fact, that we really see her true, deeply imbedded colors. Is she in love with Steve, or is she just physically attracted to him? Can Steve (or we) believe anything she says? Is she earnest or just a good actress? (And what about Naomi?) (IYKYK)

Dark Noirs Yvonne DeCarlo and Burt Lancaster_Parking Lot
Yvonne DeCarlo and Burt Lancaster

When we first meet Anna – in a nightclub parking lot during yet another furtive exchange with Steve – she’s nervous and concerned about her lover (“I’m all sick inside,” she shares), and she promises him in a tone overflowing with sincerity that “after this is all over,” she’ll make him forget about the past. Contrast this with her words and actions in her final scene; she leaves no doubt that she comes first in her life and that nothing – but nothing – will compromise her sense of self-preservation.


The Killing

This film is one that I have on both VHS and DVD, and have seen twice on the big screen – with its twisty-turny manipulation of time, outstanding ensemble cast, and perfect ending, The Killing is an absolute banger. The plot is simple: a racetrack payroll heist is carried out by a group of men from various walks, including mousy racetrack cashier, George Peatty (Elisha Cook, Jr.), and beat cop Randy Kennan (Ted deCorsia). The scheme is meticulously designed by Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden), who has recently been released from prison after a five-year stint. Johnny provides a clear indication of his motivation for the crime when he declares, “Anytime you take a chance, you better be sure the rewards are worth the risk. Because they could put you away just as fast for a $10 heist as they can for a million-dollar job.” Unfortunately for Johnny and everyone else involved in the robbery, the adage about the best laid plans of mice and men was spot-on: they often go awry.

Dark Noir, Heist gang
The heist gang

Speaking of “everyone else involved in the robbery,” these individuals ranged in spirit and deed from a devoted husband caring for his invalid wife to a killer whose last words included a racial slur. It’s this fascinating contrast between good and bad that lays a solid foundation for the overall darkness that permeates the film – it’s rife with virtuous individuals like Johnny’s loyal girlfriend, Fay (Coleen Gray), or his overly admiring pal, Marvin Unger (Jay C. Flippen), but folks like these are overshadowed by the corrupt characters waiting in the wings, like George’s duplicitous, mercenary, and wholly unforgettable wife, Sherry (Marie Windsor).

In addition to the shadowy characters, the film’s last 12 minutes are as bleak as cold concrete, serving up a one-two-three punch of pure noir. First, there’s the scene where the members of the gang (sans Johnny) gather in Marvin’s apartment to divvy up the spoils from the daring racetrack heist, only to have their anticipatory revelry interrupted by Sherry’s lover (Vince Edwards) and his partner. These two fellas aim to walk away with the ill-gotten payroll gains, but less than a minute after they enter Marvin’s apartment, almost everybody is dead. And the hits just keep on coming. Two more bodies are added to the tally when George goes home to confront his wife and later, just when it appears that Johnny and Fay will fly off into the sunset with a suitcase full of cash, their dreams abruptly vanish like smoke in a windstorm – leaving Johnny to offer this dark commentary: “Eh. What’s the difference?”

Dark Noirs, Joe Turkel and Vince Edwards
Joe Turkel and Vince Edwards

What are your favorite dark noirs? Leave a comment and let me know . . . and stay tuned as I take a look at more of these uber-grim features in a future Noir Nook post!

– 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: The Devil Doll (1936)

Silver Screen Standards: The Devil Doll (1936)

There’s nothing standard about the wild plot of the 1936 horror film, The Devil Doll, with its miniaturized zombie killers, mad scientists, use of drag as part of an elaborate scheme for revenge, and extensive special effects work showcasing its titular dolls, but the people in front of and behind the camera are very much icons of 1930s Hollywood. Only Tod Browning could be the director of such a weird horror gem, but it might be surprising to see the great Lionel Barrymore in disguise as a little old lady, with Tarzan star Maureen O’Sullivan as his unsuspecting daughter. Writing credits for the picture include Browning, horror veterans Guy Endore and Garrett Fort, and, more surprisingly, Erich von Stroheim, best known for his work as a silent film director and Oscar-nominated actor. If you enjoy Dr. Pretorius’s homunculi in Bride of Frankenstein (1935), or later horror classics like Attack of the Puppet People (1958), you won’t want to miss The Devil Doll, but for most viewers the real attractions will be Lionel Barrymore and a demented Rafaela Ottiano as the masterminds behind the tiny terrorists.

Devil Doll, Lionel Barrymore, Henry B. Walthall, Rafaela Ottiano
Paul watches as Marcel and Malita demonstrate the effects of their shrinking process on a collection of dogs.

Barrymore stars as framed and wrongly imprisoned banker Paul Lavond, who has spent 17 years plotting his revenge before he escapes with a frail fellow inmate, a scientist named Marcel (Henry B. Walthall). After Marcel dies, Paul teams up with his widow, Malita (Rafaela Ottiano), to use Marcel’s miniaturization process as a means for vengeance against the three wealthy bankers who ruined Paul’s life and reputation. In Paris, Paul masquerades as kindly toy shop owner Madame Mandelip in order to get close to his targets but also to visit his blind, elderly mother (Lucy Beaumont) and his now-grown daughter, Lorraine (Maureen O’Sullivan), who doesn’t recognize the old woman as her long-absent father.

Devil Doll, Lionel Barrymore Drag
Paul escapes the police in Paris by disguising himself as an old woman known as Madame Mandelip.

Most classic movie fans will know Lionel Barrymore from his role as the scheming Mr. Potter in It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), of course, and he’s also remembered today for performances in 1930s pictures like Grand Hotel (1932), Dinner at Eight (1933), Captains Courageous (1937), and You Can’t Take It with You (1938), but it’s quite a change of pace to see him in The Devil Doll. His character, Paul, is a man driven by revenge but not really a villain, as he recognizes that his quest for vengeance blackens his soul in spite of his original innocence. The only people Paul actively harms are the bankers who wronged him, but he doesn’t stop Marcel and Malita from shrinking their servant, Lachna (Grace Ford), and he uses the tiny woman as a weapon against his enemies. Barrymore nimbly performs this morally complicated character, brimming with wrath at his foes but softening in the company of his mother and daughter, and he also manages to adopt the persona of Madame Mandelip without making it too over-the-top. He even shows concern for the shrunken Lachna, scolding Malita for carelessness that might injure her, so we know that he still possesses both his sanity and a moral compass, as questionable as both might seem in some of his actions. As his various roles in other films demonstrate, Barrymore can play the villain, the loving patriarch, and the eccentric, but in The Devil Doll he plays all three in one character. It’s very like the roles Lon Chaney played in earlier Tod Browning pictures, although Chaney’s characters leaned further into madness and villainy, and Chaney had died in 1930, leaving Browning to find other options for his final films. Luckily for Browning, Barrymore proved game for this kind of role.

Devil Doll, Maureen O’Sullivan and Frank Lawton
Paul’s daughter, Lorraine (Maureen O’Sullivan), refuses to marry her boyfriend, Toto (Frank Lawton), because of the shame of her father’s supposed crimes.

Barrymore’s performance might be notable for its complexity and relative restraint, but Rafaela Ottiano’s turn as Malita takes the opposite route, with a mad scientist the likes of which actresses rarely get to play, even today. Fans might know her from Grand Hotel (1932) or her memorable appearance as Russian Rita in She Done Him Wrong (1933), and she had supporting roles in dozens of other films between 1924 and her death in 1942. The Devil Doll gives her a big part with lots of great scenes, and Ottiano makes the most of the opportunity. Her Malita embodies an abundance of familiar horror tropes mixed together in one character. She’s equal parts henchwoman, having been the assistant to her husband, and scientist in her own right, carrying on the work during his imprisonment and after his death. She has a physical ailment that requires a crutch, a shock of white hair that predates that of Humphrey Bogart in The Return of Doctor X (1939), and the craziest stare any insane villain could hope to have. While Marcel originally imagined shrinking as a solution to insufficient global resources, Malita has become obsessed with it because of the power it gives her. The miniaturized dogs and people lose their free will and become zombies who only act under the controlling will of their creators. Malita doesn’t express concern for her victims as Paul does, but she delights in making the tiny people dance and bend to her commands. She’s very much a female counterpart to Dr. Pretorius (Ernest Thesiger) in Bride of Frankenstein, and it’s truly entertaining to see Ottiano tackle such an outlandish character.

Devil Doll, Rafaela Ottiano Eyes
Rafaela Ottiano wins the “most obsessed mad scientist” award for her insane stare and dedication to shrinking people as Malita.

For more weird horror from director Tod Browning, see The Unholy Three (1925), The Unknown (1927), and, of course, Freaks (1932). Lionel Barrymore also appears in Browning’s films The Show (1927), West of Zanzibar (1928), and Mark of the Vampire (1935). The idea of shrinking people appears in movies going back to the silent era, and it also features in Dr. Cyclops (1940), The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957), and Fantastic Voyage (1966). You’ll find even more miniaturized people in Innerspace (1987), Honey, I Shrunk the Kids (1989), Downsizing (2017), and the 2026 TV series, The Miniature Wife.

— 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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Western RoundUp: California Gold Country Western Locations

California Gold Country Western Locations

From Iverson Ranch to Lone Pine, Moab to Kanab, Corriganville to Pioneertown, I love visiting Western movie locations!

This spring a road trip took us to California’s “Gold Country.” 

StJamesSonora Western Film Locations
St. James Church, Sonora

We spent a day in the little towns of Sonora — its famous “red church” is seen above — Columbia, and Jamestown. 

RailtownSign Western Film Locations
Railtown 1897 State Historic Park

Western movies were filmed all over the area, and Jamestown and Columbia have particularly interesting movie locations to visit.

Jamestown1 Western Film Locations
Jamestown, CA,  home of Railtown

Railtown 1897 State Historic Park, a frequently used movie location since the 1920s, is located in Jamestown and welcomes visitors. 

RailtownPlaque Western Film Locations

Railtown is home to the Sierra Railway

SierraRailway Western Film Locations

…and its famous Engine No. 3, which is said to be “the most frequently filmed locomotive in the world.”  (That’s my husband waving at the camera.) 

RailtownEngine3 Western Film Locations
Engine No. 3

Although the engine is sometimes “dressed” for specific periods, its familiar No. 3 can be spotted in many films. Just the other day my husband was watching a Western and called me in for a look at Engine No. 3!  It’s pictured on these park brochures.

RailtownBrochures Western Film Locations

There’s a small museum which details some of the railroad’s movie history. 

RailtownMuseum1 Western Film Locations

Among the many films shot at Railtown were The Virginian (1929), Sierra Passage (1950), The Cimarron Kid (1952), Kansas Pacific (1953), The Return of Jack Slade (1955), The Big Land (1957), Man of the West (1958), and The Long Riders (1980).  That list is just a small handful of the movie and TV titles shot there over nearly a century.

RailtownMuseum2 Western Film Locations

The museum includes a poster for one of the most famous movies filmed at Railtown, High Noon (1952).

RailtownHighNoonPoster Western Film Locations

There’s a dusty roundhouse which holds several more train engines and passenger cars.

RailtownRoundhouse1 Western Film Locations
RailtownRoundhouse2 Western Film Locations

We took a Sierra Railway train trip which lasted a little under an hour…

…and saw scenery which has appeared in countless Westerns!

RailtownEngine3Trip Western Film Locations
RailtownEngine3Trip2 Western Film Locations

From Railtown we went on to nearby Columbia State Historic Park.  Columbia was a Gold Rush town whose authentic Western streets later appeared in many movies and TV shows.

ColumbiaMap Western Film Locations
Columbia State Historic Park

That’s my husband Doug beginning our exploration of Columbia; he’s holding a sheaf of screen shots he put together from movies filmed in the town.

Columbia1 Western Film Locations

There’s plenty of Western atmosphere in town, including a stagecoach.

ColumbiaStagecoach Western Film Locations

Using the screenshots my husband had prepared, we were able to find Columbia locations for a handful of movies, including the Hopalong Cassidy film Rustlers’ Valley (1937) and the Randolph Scott film Rage at Dawn (1955). Rage at Dawn also filmed a robbery sequence on the Sierra Railway.

Below are a couple of the locations we found for Rustlers’ Valley. Hoppy was here!

RustlersValleyA Western Film Locations
RustlersValleyA1 Western Film Locations
RustlersValleyB Western Film Locations
RustlersValleyB1 Western Film Locations

These are some of the buildings we found which appear in Rage at Dawn. I’ve included our rough-looking screenshots for comparison.

RageatDawnA1 Western Locations
RageatDawnA2 Western Film Locations
RageatDawnB1 Western Film Locations
RageatDawnB2 Western Film Locations

This was my first visit to this part of the state, and I hope there will be many more such trips in the future.

The photographs accompanying this article 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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Silents Are Golden: Georges Méliès Amongst The Stars

Georges Méliès Amongst The Stars

Mankind dreamed of going to the moon and flying through the stars long before the actual rocket ships were invented. And at the turn of the 20th century, these dreams had a distinct tinge of Victorian whimsy. Poetry, fantasy stories, and the popular stage traditions of musical extravaganzas and “fairy plays”–which often emphasized spectacle rather than storylines–would directly influence some of our earliest science fiction films. And what better examples could there be than the films of George Méliès?

Starting in the late 1890s, Méliès made several motion pictures involving either trips to outer space or fanciful depictions of the stars and planets. With their charming hand-painted sets, careful in-camera effects and hand-operated props, they contain some of the most iconic imagery of the earliest years of cinema.


The Astronomer’s Dream (1898)

Georges Méliès - The Astronomer’s Dream (1898)

After becoming enraptured by motion pictures while attending one of the Lumière brothers’ famed 1895 showings in Paris, Georges Méliès soon became a filmmaker himself. Starting in 1896, he began incorporating his own films into his Paris stage shows. These were very brief an heavy on simple special effects, such as stopping and restarting the camera to make characters disappear or transform at will.

Soon Méliès was experimenting with longer, more elaborate stories, starting with The Haunted Castle (1896) and the lost The Laboratory of Mephistopheles (1897). The Astronomer’s Dream (1898) was the third of these lengthier films, running about three minutes long today.

In the film, which is apparently set in a vaguely-medieval era, we see a bearded astronomer (played by Méliès himself) studying his books. He’s in his castle-like observatory complete with a gigantic telescope, all brought to life through the magic of trompe-l’œil painting. The devil appears in a puff of smoke, but then a moon goddess (which may be Diana) appears and banishes him. Struck by inspiration, the astronomer draws a globe and the moon on the board, but to his surprise the drawings start coming to life. When he attempts to study the moon through the telescope it appears in his observatory as a giant grinning face–and eats the telescope! Other oddities keep occurring, culminating with the reappearances of the devil, the moon goddess who defeats him once and for all, and the grinning oversized moon. 

The Astronomer’s Dream was based on a sketch Méliès created for his stage magic show. Apparently the original print divided it into three parts: 1) L’observatoire; 2) La Lune; and 3) Phœbé. “Phoebe” was one of the Greek goddesses and her name was sometimes used as an epithet for moon goddesses like Diana. Méliès, along with other artists and filmmakers at the time, often incorporated mythological references into their work, and audiences would’ve been very familiar with them.


A Trip to the Moon (1902)

Georges Méliès - A Trip to the Moon (1902)

Méliès’s most famous film as well as one of the most famous films of all time, the roughly fifteen-minute A Trip to the Moon followed the adventures of several scientists as they embarked on a rocket expedition to the moon–a grinning, blinking, papier-mâché moon, to be precise. To audiences at the time, “the moon” didn’t merely have to be a rocky orb but a poetic concept, an unattainable dreamworld where any strange landscape or fantastical creature could be possible. Thus, Méliès’s scientists (named Professor Barbenfouillis, Nostradamus, Alcofrisbas, Omega, Micromegas, and Parafaragaramus, if you’d like to know) find a magical forest of giant mushrooms, encounter a race of alien beings (called the Selenites), and see the stars and planets visualized as beautiful women. Original prints were beautifully hand-tinted, bringing out the details of each set’s elaborate compositions.

Today, with its aliens and its stubby rocket ship, A Trip to the Moon is usually given the title of “first science fiction film.” While technically other space-themed films came first, Méliès did hit a kind of artistic jackpot with this short, creating images that stick with us while dozens of others from 1900s films can fade.


The Merry Frolics of Satan (1906)

Georges Méliès - The Merry Frolics of Satan (1906) copy

This modern-at-the-time take on the Mephistopheles legend follows the comic story of engineer William Crackford and his assistant, who are planning a trip around the world. They’re invited to the laboratory of Alcofrisbas, who has the power to move and transform objects. Alcofrisbas cooks up some magical pills that grant wishes when you hurl them to the floor, and Crackford gets so excited that he signs a contract for the pills immediately. Naturally it turns out that he’s sold his soul to Mephistopheles (who is of course played by Méliès himself). The Merry Frolics of Satan is the English title, but the original French title literally translated as The 400 Tricks of the Devil.

Unabashed, Crackford and his assistant head out on their excursion in a magical train. They encounter Mephistopheles again and flee in a horse and buggy, but it gets transformed into an “infernal carriage” pulled by a strange, skeletal horse represented by a whimsical giant puppet. They’re chased to the summit of a volcano where an eruption blows their carriage into space, and they continue their bizarre journey among brilliantly-colored stars and planets. Even more dreamlike than A Trip to the Moon, Merry Frolics was apparently intended to be part of a stage play, Les Pilules du diable, which explains at least some of its fearless use of whimsey.


Eclipse: The Courtship of the Sun and Moon (1907)

Georges Méliès - Eclipse- The Courtship of the Sun and Moon (1907)

In 1907 Méliès blended whimsey with a surprising bit of naughtiness to give his take on a scientific phenomenon. At least some scenes were apparently filmed for a Paris cabaret. We see a group of rather stuffy medieval astronomers, individual telescopes in hand, gather in a castle to watch a solar eclipse. The sun is shown as a grinning, devil-like face, while the moon is a “dainty Diana,” as film catalogues would describe. The sun and moon are shown sliding closer and closer, making suggestive winks and even licking their lips, until the sun slips behind the moon. More goofy, naughty expressions ensue.

Following the eclipse we’re treated to visions of the stars, visualized as mythological figures and beautiful women, a highlight being the well-known shot of a comet portrayed by actress Mademoiselle Bodson. The sight of all these wonders excite one of the astronomers so much that he topples out of the castle, landing in a fortunately-placed rain barrel.

These little, supposedly more “primitive” Méliès films were all a long way from today’s technical space expedition films or detailed fantasy worlds. Yet unlike more than a few of these modern special effects extravaganzas, their imaginative imagery has managed to endure.

–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: Stranger than Fiction – Part 2 (Leon Ames and Ruth Roman)

Stranger than Fiction – Part 2
(Leon Ames and Ruth Roman)

“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 serves up the next installment in my series that looks at “stranger than fiction” lives of actors and actresses from the noir era. This time around, I’m taking a look at two performers: Leon Ames and Ruth Roman.


Leon Ames

When you think of Leon Ames, do you envision the authoritative patriarch of the Smith clan in Meet Me in St. Louis (1944)? Or maybe Doris Day’s father in On Moonlight Bay (1951) and By the Light of the Silvery Moon (1953)? Not me. In my book, Ames’s standout roles were the calculating attorneys he played in two first-rate noirs, The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) and Angel Face (1953). He also contributed memorably to three additional films from the era: Lady in the Lake (1947), The Velvet Touch (1948), and Scene of the Crime (1949).

The Postman Always Rings Twice, Leon Ames and Hume Cronyn
The Postman Always Rings Twice, Leon Ames and Hume Cronyn

Away from the silver screen, Ames opened a Studio City Ford dealership in the mid-1940s that he later expanded into one of the largest automobile franchises in the west. It was this successful business that indirectly led to the actor’s real-life stranger than fiction encounter.

The incident began on the morning of February 12, 1964, when 21-year-old Lynn Wayne Benner – later described as handsome and “cool as a cucumber” – forced his way inside the Ames home, held the actor and his wife, Christine, at gunpoint, and demanded $50,000. Also held captive was a houseguest, Herbert Baumgarteker, who was visiting the Ames family. Ames later told reporters that he pretended to be sick, planning to try and grab Benner’s gun, but “then I realized that was silly.”

Instead, Ames played it safe and contacted Ralph Williams, the manager of his Encino dealership, instructing his employee to bring the money to his home. While they were waiting for Williams to arrive, Ames later recalled, Benner “drank six cups of coffee and he smoked all my cigarettes. [And my] bulldog just sat there licking the guy’s hands.”

Leon Ames Robbery

When Williams arrived with the money, Ames was bound with surgical tape and Benner locked Benner and Baumbarteker in the trunk of Ames’s car. Benner then drove off in his own car, with Christine Ames as a hostage. But he didn’t get far. Before arriving with the cash, Williams had tipped off a bank manager, who’d notified police, and Benner was stopped by police just a few blocks from the Ames house. Also arrested was Benner’s wife, Patricia Louise, who was waiting in a car nearby. In the vehicle with her was the Benners’s three-year-old daughter.

“I was frightened,” Christine Ames said later. “When he saw the police closing in, he pushed the gun into my side. I said, ‘Please don’t do that.’ He dropped it and put his hands up. . . . He didn’t look like the type at all. I told him so.”

Benner later pleaded guilty to the robbery-kidnapping and was sentenced to life in prison. His probation report indicated that Ames and his wife had promised to communicate with Benner in prison “in order to encourage him to become a useful citizen.”

By the way, a few hours after the traumatic incident came to an end, Leon Ames was able to make light of his experience, telling the press: “I’ve played a lot of these parts before.”


Ruth Roman

In the shadowy realm of noir, Ruth Roman is probably best known for her role as Farley Granger’s fiancée in Alfred Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train (1951), and the distaff half of a murderous married couple in The Window (1949). She also left her mark in several other noirs, including the Bette Davis starrer Beyond the Forest (1949) and Tomorrow is Another Day (1951).

Strangers on a Train, Ruth Roman
Strangers on a Train, Ruth Roman

But in the summer of 1956, Roman was on the pages of newspapers nationwide for more than just reviews for her movie performances. In July, she was traveling from Italy with her three-year-old son, Dickie, via the SS Andrea Doria luxury liner. On the evening of July 25th, Dickie was in bed in the family’s stateroom and Roman was reportedly dancing in the ship’s first-class lounge as the ship sailed through a thick fog. Suddenly, Roman later recalled, she “heard a big explosion, like a firecracker.” But it was no firecracker. The sound she heard was caused by a collision between the Andrea Doria and the MS Stockholm off the coast of Nantucket, Massachusetts. The Stockholm struck the Andrea Doria on its starboard side, causing the ship to list heavily and rendering many of its lifeboats inaccessible.  

Seeing smoke coming from the area near her cabin, Roman removed her high heels and found her way to her son, telling him that they were going on a picnic. Meanwhile, numerous boats and ships headed for the area to assist, including a United Fruit freighter, a Navy transport, and the SS Ile de France. With rescue efforts underway, Dickie was lowered into a lifeboat by a seaman, and Roman began climbing down a rope ladder – but when she was only halfway down, her son’s lifeboat pulled away. She was put on another lifeboat and wound up on the nearby Ile de France, while Dickie was taken to the Stockholm. The mother and son were reunited in New York; a total of 46 passengers and five crew died aboard the Andrea Doria – Roman and Dickie were among the 760 survivors.

Ruth Roman reunited with her son Dickie
Ruth Roman reunited with her son Dickie

And despite her frightening experience, Roman didn’t avoid shipboard travel – just four months later, she was aboard a Norwegian freighter called the Beranger, travelling with her soon-to-be husband, talent agent Bud Moss.

Stay tuned for the next entry in the Noir Nook’s look at noir performers with lives that were 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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Monsters and Matinees: Horror films to Celebrate National Classic Movie Day

Horror films to Celebrate National Classic Movie Day

The “national day” trend of recent years can be fun. National Doughnut Day (June 5) is something I celebrate every day, but I do take advantage of doughnut specials offered for this day. National Go Barefoot Day (June 1) is a big no for me (I always wear my socks), but you can go ahead and take off yours if you must.

Then there’s National Classic Movie Day (May 16), a date that has been gaining international recognition over the past few years since it was created by Classic Movie Blog Association founder Rick Armstrong. While I celebrate classic movies daily, this is a great excuse to talk about them with friends who don’t share my enthusiasm and share suggestions of my favorites.

As you would expect, many of the films I see are classic horror. I don’t watch much that’s new because they are too graphic, too creepy, too realistic for me. I believe in the evil of possessed dolls like Annabelle and haunted houses like the Conjuring franchise because they’re based on true events! Devils and exorcisms scare the heck out of me – don’t event talk about them. (For the record, I don’t watch the masterful 1973 William Friedkin film The Exorcist either.) I have tried to watch The Curse of La Llorona because a sequel was filmed recently in my hometown of Buffalo, but the creepy trailer is too much for me.

One of the giant ants towers over people in Them!, one of the greatest of the big-bug movies.

Others can celebrate those newer films for National Horror Movie Day on Oct. 23, a date that is visionary horror director Sam Raimi’s birthday and works as a lead-up to Halloween. Meanwhile, I will share the classic horror films that are a part of my DNA for National Classic Movie Day.

* * * * *

Where did my preoccupation with classic horror movies come from? There’s the family “legend” that my parents saw a Peter CushingChristopher Lee film when Mom was pregnant with me. They always joked that’s why I was so obsessed with horror films growing up. While that’s a fun story, that’s not why.

Nothing gets the imagination going like the giant crab attack in Mysterious Island.

We know our movie interests are often related to what we watched with our family growing up. Well, Dad fed me a steady diet of horror movies. Universal Monsters, science-fiction films and giant creatures were my early education. While my parents were careful of what I watched (I will always remember not being allowed to see Mario Bava’s Black Sunday, which in retrospect was a good thing) they understood these films spurred my imagination.

There were two qualities about our favorite films: they had low budgets and giant creatures. Give us giant everything! Nothing was sacred or safe from becoming super-sized, usually from a well-meaning scientist trying to help humanity or nuclear testing.

The giant title creature of my nightmares approaches a house in Tarantula.

A benevolent scientist trying to solve world hunger created the giant arachnid In Tarantula (1955), our all-time favorite. No matter how many times we watched it (too numerous to remember), Dad always reminded me to look for those few seconds when Clint Eastwood appeared as the jet pilot. He loved to share that trivia. Tarantula gave me nightmares as a kid that a house-sized arachnid would crush our home, but I still watched – as I do today.

Then there was Ray Harryhausen’s giant octopus in It Came from Beneath the Sea (1955). The beast was so large that it could wrap itself around the Golden Gate Bridge as thousands ran to escape its lengthy tentacles. Not everyone succeeded.

It was exciting to watch the giant ants in Them!. That high-pitched sound signaling they were nearby remains effective. More trivia: the fact that James Whitmore had Buffalo connections was always mentioned. (He was born in White Plains, N.Y., but went to school here so that counts.)

The attention-grabbing (not for a good reason) big hand in Attack of the 50-Foot Woman.

The giant people movies weren’t as interesting as the big-bug films but we watched. The Amazing Colossal Man (1957) reminded me too much of Mr. Clean in TV commercials. Those pedicured paper-mache hands of the title character in Attack of the 50-Foot Woman (1958) aren’t the greatest, but they are attention grabbing.

The ultimate Ruberto family favorite that has been passed down for generations is Mysterious Island (1961). This adaptation of the Jules Verne novel has the unforgettable giant triumvirate of an oversized crab, chicken and bees. One after another they would appear on screen, delighting us while they threatened the characters. We knew the film so well that we would look at each other in anticipation right before the big creatures appeared. The thought of being caught in the crab’s claw still gives me chills. And I must admit to devising plans to escape from a giant honeycomb – because you just never know when you’ll need to do that.

On the wall in my home are two prized possessions: My Mysterious Island DVD cover autographed by Ray Harryhausen and the drawing done by a nephew of us watching the film.

We were excited to introduce my twin nephews to “Mysterious Island” and it became a family weekend tradition. Years later, we introduced their kids to the film. One nephew drew a picture of the DVD cover that I still have hanging on a wall. His younger brother, who recently graduated college, still mentions “the giant crab” movie and smiles. In a time when CGI controls our movies – and our imaginations – that speaks volumes about the enduring power of the classics.

* * * * *

Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee fight the terror aboard The Horror Express.

For National Classic Movie Day, here are three topics worth exploring.

Watch a Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee collaboration. While they individually starred in an impressive 200-plus movies, it was the 22 films Cushing and Lee teamed up in that made them horror icons. Begin at the beginning with Curse of Frankenstein (1957). It was their first collaboration and the first in a string of four eclectic films they made over two years for Hammer, all directed by Terence Fisher: Curse of Frankenstein, Horror of Dracula (1958), Hound of the Baskervilles (1959) and The Mummy (1959). They are all well worth watching. I also recommend Horror Express (1972), a fun movie with a morbid sense of humor that finds Cushing and Lee working together (at times) to fend off the terror on a train. (There will be brain surgery and one of my favorite film quotes: “The brain has been drained. The memory removed like chalk from a blackboard.”)

Vincent Price fights off the zombie/vampires in Last Man on Earth, based on a Richard Matheson novel.

Take your pick of a Vincent Price film – or two. Price may be synonymous with horror, but his roles were surprisingly varied. Watch him as the wronged sculptor going to extremes to replicate his Marie Antoinette in House of Wax (1953, see it in 3D if possible); as the millionaire having fun in William Castle’s entertaining House on Haunted Hill (1959); and the sympathetic main character in the tragic vampire/zombie film The Last Man on Earth (1964). Finally, you may be surprised to learn that Price was a Universal monster, playing the title character in The Invisible Man Returns (1940).

Michael Redgrave and friend in a creepy segment from the horror anthology Dead of Night.

Get more with an anthology. Why watch one movie when you can get three or more in the same film that are boosted with impressive star power? Twice Told Tales (1963) showcases three short stories by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Black Sabbath (1963) is a three-part anthology from horror master Mario Bava with Boris Karloff. Twice Told Tales (1963) has three short stories by Nathaniel Hawthorne. The Amicus film The House That Dripped Blood (1971) shares the fate of inhabitants of a British cottage and stars Cushing and Lee. In Dead of Night (1945), a man insists he knows the strangers in an old house who each has a story to tell. The most famous of the tales is the unforgettable The Ventriloquist’s Dummy, starring Michael Redgrave and his creepy doll.

 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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Silver Screen Standards: Courage and Cowardice in High Noon (1952)

Courage and Cowardice in High Noon (1952)

They say good help is hard to find, but Gary Cooper’s frontier marshal in High Noon (1952) experiences a life and death example of how difficult it is to get people to show up for you, even when it’s in their own best interest to do so. The iconic Western has long provoked debate about its political message, which originated in the era of McCarthyism and screenwriter Carl Foreman’s confrontation with the House Un-American Activities Committee, and most fans of the Western genre already know that John Wayne and Howard Hawks so disliked the themes of High Noon that they made Rio Bravo (1959) as a direct rebuttal. Despite such well-noted disapproval, High Noon has aged beautifully and still offers a powerful narrative about how willingly “good” people abandon their obligations to one another when standing up means facing certain danger. It asks us, as viewers, to examine our own commitment to our principles and community and honestly consider what we would do if Will Kane came knocking on our doors to ask us for help in a desperate time.

High Noon wedding
We first see Will Kane (Gary Cooper) and Amy (Grace Kelly) at their wedding, but their happiness will not last even for an hour.

Cooper plays the aging Marshal Will Kane, looking rather worse for wear and preparing to hang up his gun as he weds a much younger Quaker bride, Amy (Grace Kelly), on a hot Sunday morning in the frontier town of Hadleyville. News comes that a dangerous outlaw, Frank Miller (Ian MacDonald), is out of prison and arriving on the noon train that very day to avenge himself against Kane and everyone else he blames for his arrest. Kane’s friends urge him to leave town with Amy immediately, but Kane realizes that they will never be safe as long as Miller has a score to settle, and he returns to town with hope of raising the local men to stand with him against Miller’s violent gang. Unfortunately, nobody seems to share Kane’s concerns, and as noon draws near it looks like Kane will have to stand alone against four ruthless killers.

High Noon, Gary Cooper and Grace Kelly
When newlyweds leave town in order to escape before the noon train brings Frank Miller, the decision doesn’t sit well with Kane.

The narrative probes the nature of courage and cowardice through Kane’s interactions with his fellow citizens, showing us different facets of both traits. Kane himself is no glib action hero; he is a man past his prime, ready for peace and family life, and all too aware of the odds against him in an unfair fight against Miller’s gang. When he makes out his will just before noon, it’s clear that he does not expect to survive the hour, but that doesn’t stop him from doing what he feels is both necessary and right, even though the people he thought were his friends have abandoned him. His brash, ambitious deputy, Harvey (Lloyd Bridges), would rather fight with Kane than help him, and his mentor, Martin (Lon Chaney Jr.), pleads age and arthritis as his excuse. The same friends who stood with Kane at his wedding mere minutes before betray him. Sam Fuller (Harry Morgan) makes his wife lie to Kane about being at home, while the mayor (Thomas Mitchell) first praises Kane and then condemns him when Kane disrupts the Sunday morning church service looking for volunteers. Some of the townspeople at the church argue on Kane’s behalf, but none of them actually join him, and his only successful recruit eventually backs out when no other volunteers appear. They have plenty of excuses for their behavior, and they point a lot of fingers, but they waste Kane’s precious minutes with their useless words. Only a few individuals show themselves to be worthy of Kane’s regard, even if they are the least suited to the task at hand. A grizzled, half-blind drunk and a teenager both beg Kane to let them help, but Kane knows neither of them would survive the fight. Kane’s former lover, Helen (Katy Jurado), can’t protect him, but she despises the town for its cowardice and urges Amy to fight for her man. Luckily for Kane, Amy ultimately takes Helen’s advice, even though her Quaker faith opposes violence.

High Noon, Katy Jurado and Lloyd Bridges
Helen (Katy Jurado) doesn’t think much of her current lover, Harvey (Lloyd Bridges), especially when he behaves childishly about Kane.

The citizens of Hadleyville offer all kinds of justifications for their cowardice, but the most specious is that this is not their fight, that it’s a private matter between Kane and Miller that doesn’t concern them. We know from the church debate that Miller’s gang once made Hadleyville unsafe for women and children, and we see at the train depot at the very beginning that men also fear Miller’s lackeys. Like Helen, we viewers can see that the town’s failure to support Kane now will mean the collapse of the whole community, with Miller and his friends returning the town to a violent, drunken state of chaos where lawless men are free to wreak havoc. The townspeople obey Miller’s will in advance out of fear that he will turn his wrath on them; they see him as an unbeatable strong man with armed thugs to do his bidding, and they refuse to risk their immediate safety to protect Kane or their own long-term survival. Although he is a marshal, Kane never presents himself as a figure of unquestionable authority just because he wears a badge. He does not issue commands because he understands himself to be a public servant and a member of the community, and Kane’s ethical perspective of the law also means that he cannot preempt it by arresting Miller’s gang before they actually commit any crimes. Over the course of the film, which unfolds in real time as the omnipresent clocks tick toward noon, Kane’s increasingly haggard looks convey not only his grief at facing death but his disillusionment as he comes to realize how little his supposed friends are willing to risk to help him or save themselves from a grim future under Miller’s rule. Because of their cowardice, High Noon has one of the unhappiest happy endings you’ll ever see in a film, but it challenges us to be better than the people of Hadleyville when the call for help comes to us, lest we betray the ideals we claim to cherish and the people who most embody them. If we let the Will Kanes of our own time be gunned down, there will be no one left to protect us when we inevitably become targets of the same violent men.

High Noon, Lon Chaney and Gary Cooper
Kane hopes that his lifelong friend and father figure, Martin (Lon Chaney Jr.), will offer him useful assistance, but Martin is bitterly disillusioned.

As a result of his refusal to cooperate with HUAC officials, screenwriter Carl Foreman was blacklisted in Hollywood and left the United States for England, where he wrote a screenplay draft for The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957). He later wrote and produced The Key (1958), The Guns of Navarone (1961), and Mackenna’s Gold (1969). Gary Cooper won the Oscar for Best Actor for his performance as Will Kane, and the picture also won Academy Awards for Editing, Score, and Song. For more from director Fred Zinnemann, see From Here to Eternity (1953), Oklahoma! (1955), and A Man for All Seasons (1966). If you appreciate the way composer Dimitri Tiomkin uses the theme song, with lyrics sung by Tex Ritter, throughout the picture, listen to his other Western scores in Red River (1948), Gunfight at the O.K. Corral (1957), and Rio Bravo (1959). High Noon is often included in lists of revisionist and psychological Westerns, so try pairing it with other, similarly thoughtful films like The Ox-Bow Incident (1943), The Gunfighter (1950), Shane (1953), or 3:10 to Yuma (1957).

— 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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Western RoundUp: Final Resting Places, Western Filmmakers

Final Resting Places

It’s time for another of my periodic tributes to Western filmmakers through sharing visits to their final resting places.

This is one of the ways I reflect on what each person’s work has contributed to the Western genre, giving all of us many happy hours of entertainment.

On Easter Sunday this year I paid a visit to Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills, where by pure chance I stumbled across the grave of the great Western screenwriter Borden Chase.  A special plaque on a nearby wall called my attention to his gravesite.

Borden Chase 1

Borden Chase wrote the screenplays for some of the greatest Westerns ever made, including Red River (1948), Winchester ’73 (1950), Bend of the River (1952), and The Far Country (1954). I’ve written about many of his films here over the years, including listing Bend of the River as one of my all-time favorite Westerns in my very first post here, back in 2018. I also wrote about a TCM Classic Film Festival screening of Winchester ’73 in 2019.

Borden Chase 2

Actor David Carradine is also at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills. His entire family has quite a legacy in Westerns, including his father John appearing in John Ford’s classic Stagecoach (1939). David’s Western work included appearing with his brothers Keith and Robert in The Long Riders (1980), in which David played Cole Younger. Robert, who was a regular guest at the Lone Pine Film Festival, sadly passed away earlier this year.

David Carradine

Another actor who played Cole Younger was Frank Lovejoy, who starred in the title role in Cole Younger, Gunfighter (1958).  Lovejoy, a prominent radio actor along with starring in movies, also appeared in the Westerns Black Bart (1948) and The Charge at Feather River (1953). Sadly, Lovejoy was only 50 when he died unexpectedly of a heart attack. He’s buried at Holy Cross Cemetery in Culver City, California, alongside his wife, actress Joan Banks. Joan appeared in a small handful of TV Western episodes.

Frank Lovejoy

Another highly regarded screenwriter, Nunnally Johnson, whose remains are interred at Westwood Village Memorial Park, wrote several Westerns, including Jesse James (1939), Along Came Jones (1945), and The Gunfighter (1950).

Johnson’s wife Dorris Bowdon, who is memorialized at his final resting place, had a brief screen career, including appearing in three John Ford films, one of which was The Grapes of Wrath (1940). 

The Grapes of Wrath was written by Bowdon’s husband and costarred David Carradine’s father John.  Bowdon and Carradine were also both in Ford’s Revolutionary War era Drums Along the Mohawk (1939), set on the New York frontier. As readers of past Final Resting Places columns may have noticed, there are endless connections to be found among the classic era filmmakers remembered here.

Nunnally Johnson, Dorris Bowdon

Tyrone Power’s leading lady in Jesse James (1939), written by Nunnally Johnson, was Nancy Kelly; she is memorialized on a plaque at Westwood Village Memorial Park. Kelly won a Tony Award for the Broadway production of The Bad Seed (1955) and was the older sister of Jack Kelly, who starred as Bart Maverick on TV’s Maverick

Nancy Kelly Closeup

Robert Lowery – who coincidentally made at least one film with Nancy Kelly — was a busy working actor for three decades ahead of his early passing in 1971, aged 58.  Lowery appeared in numerous “B” Westerns alongside stars such as Don “Red” Barry and “Wild Bill” Elliott, including I Shot Billy the Kid (1950) and The Homesteaders (1953). Later in his career Lowery appeared in some of the ‘60s “Geezer Westerns” produced by A.C. Lyles, who I wrote about in a column last year. Robert Lowery is buried at Valhalla Memorial Park in North Hollywood, California.

Robert Lowery

Another veteran of Lyles’ “Geezer Westerns” was Bill Williams, who is buried at Forest Lawn Hollywood Hills under his real name, Herman A. W. Katt.  Williams had a long career in Westerns, including The Cariboo Trail (1950), a Randolph Scott film which I wrote about here 2020. He met his wife, actress Barbara Hale, when they filmed the “B” Western West of the Pecos (1945), which starred a young Robert Mitchum.

Bill Williams, Barbara Hale

As of my last visit to Forest Lawn, Barbara Hale’s gravesite alongside her husband was unmarked, as seen above.  Hale, best known as a star of TV’s Perry Mason, appeared in many Westerns, including The Lone Hand (1953) with Joel McCrea, which I wrote about here after it was shown at McCrea Ranch in 2023.  Williams and Hale’s three children include actor William Katt (The Greatest American Hero).

In 2019 I included Hale’s Perry Mason costar William Talman in my column on “Unexpected Western Leads” thanks to his role in the enjoyable Two-Gun Lady (1955), which costarred Peggie Castle and Marie Windsor.  Talman also appeared with Dana Andrews in Smoke Signal (1955).

William Talman

Our final visit in this column honors character actor Griff Barnett, whose film career began with the serial The Lone Ranger (1938). Over the course of his 20-year career Barnett appeared in a great many Westerns of all types, with favorites including Cattle Drive (1951) and The Duel at Silver Creek (1952). His 1954 appearance in a Lone Ranger TV episode brought his career rather “full circle”!  Barnett is buried at Rose Hills Memorial Park in Whittier, California.

Griff Barnett

For additional photos of the burial places of Western filmmakers, please visit my tribute columns from May 2019, February 2022, November 2, 2022, November 29, 2022, April 2023, November 2023, March 2024, July 2024, February 2025, and November 2025.

– 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: A Closer Look At The Wind (1928)

A Closer Look At The Wind (1928)

Lillian Gish The Wind
Lillian Gish, The Wind

In 1927, cinema was famously experiencing a time of transition from the silent to talkies, kickstarted by the popularity of Al Jolson’s The Jazz Singer (1927). Directors and stars would soon be faced with a decision, whether deliberate or inadvertent: which silent would be their last before the move to recorded sound? Would they be lucky enough to make a final silent film worthy of praise in that uncertain time? In Lillian Gish’s case her final silent did not seem like a triumph at first, thanks to being a flop at the box office in spite of some critical praise. But its reputation would grow steadily over time, and today it’s widely considered one of the great masterpieces of the late 1920s.

Lillian Gish The Wind

One of the silent era’s top American actresses, Gish had left the stage in 1912 to act in Biograph films along with her sister Dorothy. The two would work closely with director D.W. Griffith for a number of years, especially the dedicated and driven Lillian, who some would consider Griffith’s “muse.” As the industry began to change in the 1920s, Gish would star in The White Sister (1923) for Metro, which soon became part of the brand-new MGM studio. She would remain with the prestigious MGM until the end of the silent era.

Gish had considerable influence on her pictures at MGM, being known for her dedication to artistry. She would even turn down a $1 million-per-picture deal in favor of getting a percentage of film profits, wanting to ensure more of the budget would go towards hiring talented writers and actors. It was her idea to make The Wind, based on a dramatic novel by Dorothy Scarborough. It told the story of a young woman who goes to live on a ranch in the Texas plains that’s plagued with constant wind. She marries a Texan out of necessity and also fends off advances from a different man, all while the blasting wind slowly drives her mad. The gritty setting and elements of psychological horror excited Gish’s imagination, and The Wind would go into production in late April of 1927.

Lillian Gish on location
Lillian on location.

The distinguished Swedish director Victor Sjöström was hand-picked by Gish for the new project. She had previously worked with him on The Scarlet Letter (1926) and had been impressed by his meticulous nature and encouragement of subtle acting. One of her co-stars was be Lars Hansen, another Swedish import who was also a co-star from The Scarlet Letter–The Wind was very much a reunion of several fine talents. The Australian-born Dorothy Cumming and frequent screen villain Montagu Love rounded out the rest of the cast.

Lillian Gish and Lars Hanson in The Wind (1928)
Lillian Gish and Lars Hanson.

Much of the film was shot in the Mojave desert, which even in the spring was growing unbearably hot. By the time shooting ended in late June temps were nearing 120 degrees and the completed film reels had to be frozen to keep the coating from melting. Gish would remember the shoot as the most difficult one she had ever experienced, even more difficult than the icy river scenes in Way Down East (1920). Crewmembers had to wear tall boots to guard against rattlesnakes and goggles to protect their eyes from blowing sand. But the actors were not always so lucky. To simulate the blasting Texas winds, eight airplane propellers were brought in and sawdust and pots of sulphur helped add to the illusion of billowing sand. Gish recalled the sulphur nearly ruining her hair and being constantly worried about getting blinded by blowing debris.

Lillian Gish The Wind

Fortunately, all the hardships resulted in a stunningly memorable film. Sjöström magnificently blended the psychological aspects of the drama with the film’s harsh natural surroundings and rustic buildings. The wind is as much of a character as Letty or Lars Hansen’s Lige, its relentless blasts echoing the characters’ inner turmoils and desires. The exceptionally strong “norther” wind is represented by a ghostly horse during the film’s most dramatic moments, an effect that can be nearly sublime.

Lillian Gish The Wind 3

Gish, of course, handled the tragic aspects of the story with her renowned skill. In some scenes, such as a frightening moment where she peers through a window, her emotions were conveyed entirely through her eyes. These skills were well-matched with Sjöström’s thoughtful “show, don’t tell” touches, such as a scene where different shots show Letty and Lige’s feet pacing the floor just before a dramatic moment.

One bit of trivia about The Wind turned out to be folklore. Gish would always recall that they filmed an ending that was faithful to the novel, showing the heroine running out into the sandstorm and being whirled away by the wind. She would say that MGM insisted on shooting a happier ending, certain that audiences would be turned off. Apparently no such tragic ending was actually shot, possibly pointing to a lapse in Gish’s memory. In any case, the happier ending may seem trite at first glance but may have been considered more modern at the time, if a little cliched.

Lillian Gish The Wind 4

The Wind received a decent amount of critical praise but produced little box office luster in the U.S. Most audiences were already intrigued by the new talkies and silents were starting to look passé. Gish would leave MGM after The Wind’s financial disappointment and in subsequent years she would start to favor the stage over the movies. But her masterpiece would truly stand the test of time. We know today that the late 1920s produced some of the era’s finest silent films, and while it would take many years for that fact to be recognized, The Wind is now considered an unmissable highlight of the silent era. Lillian was–and likely still is–justly proud.

–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: Diving into ‘The Monster That Challenged the World’

Diving into ‘The Monster That Challenged the World’

Oh, the horrors of 1950s B-movies. And I’m not talking scary good, but scary bad.

So many of the creative ideas for monsters were never realized because of low budgets and ridiculously short shooting schedules. Viewers accept that the creatures in these films might look cheap and even laughable, perhaps because that’s considered part of the charm.

But sometimes a low-budget creature can be interesting enough to grab your attention. That’s what happened when I saw photos of the title creature in The Monster That Challenged the World (1957).

The creature rises from the ocean in The Monster That Challenged the World.

It was a giant slug with two big eyes and was surprisingly intriguing. I can’t put my finger on why it looked interesting instead of cheap or ridiculous, but it did. So I went with my gut, watched the film and wasn’t disappointed. Even the writing surprised me in a good way with a touch of humor, characters with some depth and the many tropes we love from ‘50s horror films.

The Monster That Challenged the World follows the horror B-movie formula: An opening narration to set the scene, some type of research/experiments, natural disaster, mysterious deaths and a plucky group of officials and townsfolk who will save the world. Lest not forget grand proclamations which, in this film, include “I’ve never seen anything like this!” and my favorite, “From the moment they’re born, they’re hungry!!” Cue the dramatic music and the warning for humanity. This is why we love these films.

That opening voice-over is usually done by a deep-voiced narrator who holds our attention with his serious tone. Not here. This guy speaks in an odd monotone like a school principal making an announcement on the loudspeaker. By the end of the film, I realized the deadpan tone may have been on purpose since the movie has an unexpected dry sense of humor. (More on that later.)

A mysterious gooey substance is left behind when people go missing in The Monster That Challenged the World.

Our narrator sets the scene in Southern California at the Salton Sea, a strange (and real) phenomenon of 400 square miles of salt water in the desert. So it’s also the site of secret experiments and a Naval research base. Jump-starting the story is a small earthquake, a parachute jumper and two sailors in a patrol boat. We’ll quickly have our first three victims and plenty of questions, like what is that gooey substance on the boat?

Never fear, we’ll get answers along with talk of radioactivity, ancient waterways and prehistoric eggs that means there’s more than one creature, plus explanations of how the dead are drained of blood and water.

It even has the educational nature film scene, also common in these horror movies, where the smart guy explains what’s going on. He’s found that whatever is killing people is like a prehistoric mollusk (think snails). We see one genus, the gonaxis, that has “scissor-like teeth” to shred the flesh off its victims. They are such tiny little teeth that the gonaxis is somehow cute and creepy at the same time.

Two eyes and tiny little teeth – how cute. A nature film shown during The Monster That Challenged the World shows the small mollusk known as the gonaxis that is now growing taller than a human.

Beaches will be quarantined and patrols will roam the highways, but the body count continues. It’s up to Dr. Rogers (played by Hans Conried), Commander John Twillinger (Tim Holt) and Dr. Tad Jones (played by familiar face Max Showalter who is billed here as Casey Adams) to use their varied skills to get to the bottom of everything.

Also in the mix are Gail MacKenzie (Audrey Dalton), a widowed secretary at the research facility, and her adorable little daughter Sandy (Mimi Gibson) who just wants to spend time with the bunnies in the lab. What could go wrong? Exactly what you might expect, so be prepared for a tense scene as one of the creatures looks for its next meal.

An oversized mollusk attacks a child in this terrifying scene from The Monster That Challenged the World.

I think the creature scenes work well because they don’t show too much. We don’t see it “walking,” for example. When it shows up, it makes a statement like when it rises out of the water to tower over a boat or when one tears apart a door with its sharp teeth.

In an interview with Tom Weaver for his book Return of the B Science Fiction and Horror Heroes, producer Arthur Gardner said the creature was made by special effects man Augie Lohman. It stood about 10 feet high and weighed about 1,500 pounds. with a Fiberglas exterior. It took three men – Lohman and two assistants – to control it through a series of air pressure valves.

As tragedy strikes, Commander Twillinger (Tim Holt) softens up to others including Gail (Audrey Dalton).

Unexpected humor, even depth

Since scripts for B-horror movies are so formulaic, there’s usually not much to say about them. But screenwriter Pat Fielder has done a nice job that raises the film up a notch. Her characters have backstories and I like how Commander Twillinger lightened up from being a terse military dude in early scenes to become more patient and likeable.

There’s a low-key humor that allows viewers to smile and even laugh. Case in point is a scene at the morgue:

“The lieutenant said there was something unnatural about the condition of one of the bodies,” says a doctor.

“There was – it was shriveled,” deadpans Commander Twillinger, which made me laugh.

Wait until you meet museum archivist Lewis Clark Dobbs, played by Milton Parsons. It’s a small role that is uncredited in the film, yet it takes over the two scenes he is in. Navy officials visit the museum seeking maps of underground rivers to find more creatures. There, they meet the droll archivist who puts an odd emphasis on words as he speaks, drawing raised eyebrows.

Milton Parsons, left, plays a museum curator with a hilariously droll personality. He may be the best thing about The Monster That Challenged the World.

Credit Parsons, a character actor who played more than 150 roles, for the portrayal. But also thank Fielder who smartly gave him a running joke about the failure of “Proposition 14A” (it would have allowed the museum to add a room for maps and other documents). Dobbs repeatedly brings it up, to reinforce the fact that the museum doesn’t have maps because Proposition 14A failed.

“Every once in a while, somebody dies and leaves us a whole lot of documents for our room – the one [room] we didn’t get, you understand. Proposition 14A was defeated,” the archivist says.

I wanted more of this character, but realize too much of him would have spoiled it. He would have been a great recurring character on television sitcom.

Background and trivia

  • Fielder and director Arnold Laven also worked together on The Vampire (1957), The Return of Dracula (1958) and Geronimo (1962). Her name was all over television from the late 1950s through the early 1980s. She wrote multiple episodes of The Rifleman, Baretta, The Eleventh Hour and McMillan & Wife, plus the 1981 mini-series Goliath Awaits with Christopher Lee, and single episodes of everything from Starsky and Hutch to The Love Boat and B.J. and the Bear and The High Chaparral.
  • In 1951, Laven formed a production company with Jules V. Levy and Arthur Gardner which eventually became Levy-Gardner-Laven. He came up with the concept for the television series The Rifleman and was an executive producer on The Big Valley.
  • Look for Jody McCrea, son of Joel McCrea and Frances Dee, in the brief role as doomed Seaman Fred Johnson.

 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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