Grift Tips from The Lady Eve (1941) ****

(While this is my own unique retelling of the story, there are spoilers.)

Good God, I do look good!  Oh, hello there, suckers.  My name’s Jean Harrington (some of the time at least), and I’ve been asked to discuss the art of the grift (con, scam, swindle—got it now, schmuck?).  This is a complicated subject and can take years to master, so I’m gonna dumb it down for those of you who weren’t raised in the racket and focus on my own personal story.

Some people are just born to be grifters—in my case, literally. I was raised by a card sharp named ‘Colonel’ ‘Harry’ Harrington (Charles Coburn). Grift Tip No. 1: Anyone who has ‘ ’ around their name is not to be trusted. You see, you’re either a colonel or you’re not—there’s a big difference between Colonel Custard and ‘Colonel’ Sanders…unless you’re a hungry Indian craving white meat.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I trust Harry, but that’s because I know all of his tricks and I never take my eyes off of him. 

As far back as I can remember Harry and I worked the luxury liners with our ‘valet’ Gerald (Melville Cooper).  There are lots of rich mugs who think they know how to play cards—problem is, they’re always under the illusion that everybody plays fair and square.  Yes, there’s a sucker born every minute—even in a silver spoon nursery. Grift Tip No. 2: If you want to be seen as rich all you have to do is wear designer clothes and tasteful jewelry;  hint at an oil field or a gold mine; and, appear affable and sophisticated.  And, that brings me to the greatest mark in grifter history—Charles ‘Hopsie’ Pike (Henry Fonda).

Heir to a brewery fortune, Hopsie was a snake enthusiast and a chump I met on an outbound boat from South America.  My first impression of him was that he needed more fiber in his diet, so I dropped an apple on the lunkhead.  This not being a proper introduction, I bided my time by picking out my sexiest outfit (a two-piece number: long black skirt with a slit up to heaven and a short black beaded top which exposed my flat midriff) designed by my personal couturier, Edith Head. I then strategically placed myself in the dining room and waited for an '”accidental” meeting. 

Grift Tip No. 3: The best way to appear disinterested but still keep your eyes on the prize is to use a pocket mirror to spy on your prey—plus, you can reassure yourself that you are definitely worth it. Once your mark has been spooked by countless hapless fortune hunters and attempts his escape, nonchalantly stick your glamorous gam out and trip him. And, that’s exactly what I did to Hopsie.  I just had a feeling that man was a klutz!  While he was still on the defensive I feigned indignation and outrage that he broke one of my pricey heels.  I then demanded that he escort me to my cabin to exchange my evening slippers. Once I had him alone in my room I turned up the heat and showed off my assets—first impressions are everything, you see.  Men who have been trapped in the jungle for an extended amount of time are susceptible to intoxicating perfume, sexual repartee, and light, but not so innocent, petting.  Suffice to say, Hopsie was quickly on the hook and all I had to do was reel him in, but then something quite shameful happened—I fell in love with my mark.

I don’t know how it happened: one minute I’m thinking what a schmuck this guy is for showing Harry and me how to palm a card and counting all the money we’re gonna take from him, and then the next thing I know I’m planning on marrying him and going straight.  Surely, I must have caught some strange jungle disease when I ran my fingers through his hair and canoodled with him!  I started spending my time double-dealing Harry and conducting business on moonlit decks.  When I look back on it all I should have seen the signs of fever-induced delusions: wearing a Christmas stocking as a hat, acting out scenes from Titanic, and believing that I could settle down with an ophiologist—a word and an occupation that decent people should never have to learn about!  It was all going so fast and I didn’t know whether to jump ship or get on board with love.  Then, something inexplicable happened: the grifter became the grifted.  Seems I’d been played for a fool by Hopsie—he’d known all along that Harry and I were con artists and he just wanted to teach us a lesson. Grift Tip No. 4: Love is for suckers! No explanation needed, I’m sure!

You’d think this is where the story ends, but what kind of grifter would I be if I told a story where I ended up with the shortest matchstick? No, I knew I couldn’t be so wrong about how much of a dope Hopsie was and I kept an eye out for an opportunity to settle the score.  Due to pesky U-boats in the Atlantic, my crew and I had to settle in the Big Apple for awhile. One day, after losing a good chunk of change on a horse that ran fifth in a five-horse race (really, what did we expect when we bet on a goat called "After You?"), we ran into Alfie, or Sir Alfred McGlennan Keith to his common American marks (Eric Blore).  When I learned Sir Alfie  was on his way to Bridgefield, Connecticut, I instantly thought of Hopsie. As fate would have it, Alfie was acquainted with the Pike family.  My mind did a quick checklist of all the reasons it knew Hopsie was a fool, and then I asked Alfie if I could pose as his niece on his displaced nobility grift. I brushed up on my British accent and colloquialisms and assumed the name Lady Eve Sidwich.  I know what you’re thinking, but rest assured it wasn’t love I was after (that would be Bette Davis).  No, I needed Hopsie like the axe needs the turkey, and I was going to have my revenge.

Looking back on it all it seems so biblical.  There I was in the Garden of Eden of all grifters: a Connecticut mansion filled with shiny apples ready to have their pockets plucked.  Hell, there was even a real snake on the loose—no, not me (but I see how you might infer that).  I arrived at the Pike mansion under cloak (really a huge fur), as I was still a bit unsure of my plan.  Once I got past Hopsie’s bodyguard and babysitter Muggsy (William Demarest), I entered the great hall as the guest of honor and proceeded to have every man hang on my every word.  Quite simply, and British, I looked smashing.  The first to succumb to my charms was Mr. Pike himself (Eugene Pallette)—the father, not the son (didn’t I say it was biblical?). At first, Hopsie was nowhere to be found (I suppose he was playing with his snake somewhere).  Ah, but then he appeared—and what a perplexed look he had on his face. Grift Tip No. 5: When you happen upon a previous mark ask them if you know them from somewhere. This confirms their belief they’ve crossed your path before. Plus, it looks like you don’t have anything to hide from them. 

You’d think it would be more difficult to convince a man with whom you canoodled that you weren’t the same woman who tried to con him on the high seas.  In a way, I was a bit peeved at how easily I pushed my real identity out of Hopsie’s mind. Of course, this feeling was quickly usurped by an overriding disbelief that I once loved a man who could be fooled by a royal title, a British accent, and a small tiara.  It didn’t take long before I had Hopsie back under my spell, but what did I want to do with him?  What better punishment was there for a bachelor than marriage?  And, so, yes, I did it: I married my mark. Ah, but I wasn’t quite done with that idiot just yet. Grift Tip No. 6: Sell the game to the bitter end and then have a well-designed escape route. 

We opted to spend our wedding night on a train. I donned my best sheer negligee and eagerly awaited the entrance of Hopsie into my cozy compartment.  He was nervous—it was obvious this was his first ride on a train. I tried to calm him down by recounting other train rides I’d taken. Surely if men like Angus, Herman, Vernon, Cecil, John, Hubert…or was it Herbert…could enjoy a train ride with me, so could Hopsie!  Perhaps he was afraid of tunnels—I always found entering and exiting them to be exhilarating.  It was all just so odd! You’d think a man who liked to play with snakes wouldn’t be so frightened of a speeding train.  It was like being in one of those Preston Sturges’ films, except there was no sex.  Maybe I shouldn’t have told him about those other guys, because he got off the train at the first stop.

And, so there I was—married and abandoned in a day by an heir to millions.  Somehow I just didn’t feel like I had exacted enough revenge on old Hopsie. Grift Tip No. 8: If you can have your cake and eat it too, eat the entire thing.  Why should I settle for a piece of the Pike pie when I could have the whole thing? Yes, I know I have mixed my food metaphors, but they are both desserts and that’s what I was going to have: my just desserts! So, when the lawyers called about divorce proceedings I ignored them.  Knowing Hopsie to be a creature of habit I returned to the high seas armed with my pocket mirror, my long, shapely legs, and my real name.  It wasn’t too long before Hopsie was escorting Jean Harrington…um, Pike…to her cabin.  Yes, he was a bit shocked when I revealed to him that Jean and Eve were one in the same—but this time I waited until he got used to the motion of the ocean.  Grift Tip No. 7: There is no greater con game than love. 

(This post was honored with a 2012 CiMBA for Best Musical or Comedy Review.  Obviously, this was a comedy.)

 

 

 

 

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Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) ***

Who runs Washington? How does one become a congressperson, a senator, or the president? These questions were asked in 1939—and are still being asked today. Americans would like to think that idealists like Jefferson Smith (James Stewart) go to Washington to serve the best interests of those they represent.  Yet, in reality, few idealists ever get to Washington, and if they do get there they are quickly disillusioned by the political process.  Most rational Americans today know that the political process has been corrupted, but I’m not quite so sure that people were so aware of what happened in Washington back in 1939—the year this film, like so many other classics, hit the silver screen.

Nominated for eleven Academy Awards (Best Picture, Best Director [Frank Capra], Best Actor [James Stewart], Best Supporting Actor [Harry Carey and Claude Rains], Best Score, Best Sound Recording, Best Film Editing, Best Interior Direction, Best Screenplay, and Best Original Story [winner Lewis R. Foster]), the film was almost put on the shelf after the outbreak of WWII in Europe.  It would seem that some thought the film presented the shining beacon of democracy as a corrupt cesspool operated by political thugs.  And, really, those people were partly right, but there’s more to the story than that.  Sure, director Frank Capra shows the dirt under the political rug, but he also brightly polishes the true meaning of patriotism and republicanism. 

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is the simple story of a common man thrown into a complicated situation.  Jefferson Smith is called upon to represent his state (never identified) as a junior senator when his predecessor, Sam Foley, dies.  Needing to fill the position with someone who will be easy to control, Governor "Happy" Hopper (Guy Kibbee) chooses Mr. Smith because he is regarded as a hero and loved for his work with the Boy Rangers (think Boy Scouts)—plus, he has no political experience whatsoever.  As such, he represents, in the words of the governor, “the perfect man, never in politics in his life, wouldn't know what it was all about in two years, let alone two months. And the important thing it means votes. A hero of 50,000 boys, and a hundred thousand parents.” 

Why is it so important that the governor find a “yes” man?  Because he and every political office holder in the state are beholden to political boss Jim Taylor (Eddie Arnold). Taylor has bought up land surrounding a canyon along Willet Creek and wants his political stooges to push through a bill that will provide government funding for a dam—which would allow him to sell the land he’s bought up for a huge profit. Quite simply, it’s the blue ribbon of political pork. Taylor controls everyone, even Senator Joe Paine (Claude Rains), a man some think might be the next president. Indeed, Senator Paine is admired by many, especially by Mr. Smith, whose father was Paine’s best friend. Ah, the dangers of hero-worship.

Capra is quite crafty in how he juxtaposes the backroom dealings of a corrupt political machine with Mr. Smith’s honest reverence for freedom and democracy.  While Taylor, Hopper and Paine are always working the system in closed rooms (they choose who’s allowed in), Mr. Smith revels in the openness of the monuments of Washington (where everyone is welcome).  Even the Senate chamber (expertly recreated by Lionel Banks) is used to show the many faces of the political process. While Smith sits at his desk, once occupied by Daniel Webster, he can see common, everyday people looking on in the gallery. Yet, in this same chamber, you can see senators working the system and attempting to stymie the wheels of truth and justice.

There is an educational bent to the film as well. Mr. Smith’s secretary, Clarissa Saunders (the top-billed Jean Arthur), is supposed to make sure he shows up for roll call and that he votes how the machine wants.  In the beginning, she thinks he’s a big dope and refers to him as Daniel Boone and Don Quixote.  You see, she is the cynical Washington insider who knows how things work, and when some country bumpkin starts spouting off about the virtues of democracy she thinks he’s beyond naïve. She’s also not pleased that he wants to write a bill to start a national boy’s camp.  And, this is where the educational bent comes in.  Trying to dissuade him from his idea she explains the very long and tedious process of what it takes to get a bill passed.  Just her explanation alone is a civic lesson in itself—and perhaps an eye-opener for many audience members.  You must remember, they didn’t have School House Rock and “I’m Just a Bill” in 1939!

Of course, the fact that he wants to build this camp along Willet Creek also creates another problem for Saunders—as she knows about Taylor and Paine’s porked-up plan.  What to do?  Like many secretaries of the 1930s, Saunders is smarter than the boss and so she holds his hand as he first presents the bill and then gives him a crash course in political trench warfare after Paine and the machine discredit and crucify him.  And, this brings us to the famous 23-hour filibuster, where Mr. Smith refuses to yield the floor by reading from the Constitution and various other documents in the hopes that someone, specifically Paine, will clear his good name. Jimmy Stewart always played his righteous characters with just enough instability that they didn’t seem sanctimonious and/or preachy.  You see the complete destruction of his character in these scenes.  At the beginning of the filibuster he seems hopeful and self-assured—surely he will be able to convince the chamber that he is innocent.  But slowly, his strong voice and straight as a rod back start to falter.  His posture droops, his voice cracks, his clothes wrinkle, his hair musses.  What did democracy look like in 1787? Perhaps like Jefferson Smith when he began his filibuster—confident and composed. What does democracy look like in 1939? Like Mr. Smith at the end of his filibuster—defeated and disheveled.  Ah, have heart, there’s more to the story than that, but you need to watch it for yourself to find out. 

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is a political morality tale about living up to the principles of republicanism—government of the people, by the people, for the people.  Who knew a monument could play a supporting role in a film? Everyone, even Lincoln himself, plays their part well. Eddie Arnold is the epitome of the vile political boss who will stop at nothing (not even running children off the road) to get what he wants. Claude Rains takes the part of cynical politician to a whole new level—you either want to slap or hug him.  Jean Arthur is her usual wise-cracking self, playing a Washington-weary woman just waiting for the right man to come along so she can show her heart of gold.  And, James Stewart does naïve as only he can—desperation and despondency never looked so believable. 

Final assessment: we could use more Jefferson Smiths in America today. Oh, and the film is quite good, too.

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Inception (2010) **1/2

The first thing you need to know about this 2010 film from director Christopher Nolan is that it must be watched multiple times before it ever makes sense—and even then some things might be a bit sketchy.  The story itself is so unbelievable that when the characters attempt to make it sound plausible you get a headache. That said, it is an awesome spectacle of the power of special effects—and ones that are not heavily reliant on CGI.  Inception is primarily a visual experience, but it can also be seen as a psychological analysis of the architecture of the dreamscape.

Okay, so how does one explain this movie without sounding as though one should be carted off to an asylum?  Leonardo DiCaprio plays Don Cobb, the ringleader of a ragtag group who engage in corporate espionage by infiltrating people's dreams to extract important information.  Ah, yes, here comes the man with the straightjacket now!  Cobb is a wanted man in the United States for murdering his wife (Marion Cotillard) and will do anything to have his name cleared so he can return to his two children.  After passing Japanese businessman Saito’s (Ken Watanabe) test, Cobb and his crew are asked by Saito to plant an idea into the mind of a business rival’s son—thus, the title of the film: inception. Okay, so that’s all I’m going to attempt to explain about the plot. To go on anymore would give me a headache and draw the attention of mental health authorities.  Instead, I would like to discuss what I did and didn’t like about the film.  Dislikes: Ellen Page and the endless explanations about dreams within dreams. Likes: Visuals and Marion Cotillard.

Am I the only one who wished Ellen Page’s character, Ariadne, would go into a deep dream and never wake up? I found myself begging her to stop asking, “What’s happening?” Her name was not  Rerun and, more importantly, no one really knows the answer.  Page just didn’t fit into the overall landscape of the film. Besides the pudgy chemist played by Dileeep Rao, everyone in the film is action-movie fit.  I can somewhat see DiCaprio, Watanabe, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Tom Hardy shooting guns and engaging in hand-to-hand combat with a literal dream army—but short, non-athletic Page, really?  There’s one scene in the film where she has to run. Suffice to say, Nolan wasn’t aiming for a laugh here, but he got one.  I thought I was watching The Wizard of Oz for a second—”Does Fischer (Cillian Murphy) have Munchkins running around in his dreams?” I wondered. Plus, Ariadne is just annoying—who just invites themselves into someone else’s dream?  There’s a reason Evan Rachel Wood was Nolan’s first choice for the role!

The plot is crazy! Accept it and move on Chris Nolan—stop making your characters explain what is happening every five minutes. The more they explain, the more confused I become.  Is this the point?  When things are so utterly unbelievable you come to a point where you must embrace the insanity and hope the spectacular images can carry the film.

And, that is what carries the film—images. Cinematographer Wally Pfister and editor Lee Smith do a phenomenal job of creating a unique look for each dream level.  While the plot may be confounded, the viewer always knows which dream level they are looking at based on the atmospheric design.  I know when I see the stark gray and white of the compound that I’m looking at the third level; and, when I see the warmer, almost vintage-esque design I am seeing the second level at the hotel. In addition, it is visually striking to watch both whole cityscapes being designed and destroyed in a split second.  Plus, there is nothing like watching the team escape the dreamscape by riding the kicks up the three levels of the dream. In those few moments you believe you understand what you just watched for the last 2+ hours—it’s an illusion, but at least some perspective seems to have been gained.

Finally, Marion Cotillard is chillingly thrilling as DiCaprio’s dead ex-wife Mal.  Locked up in DiCaprio’s subconscious, she only emerges in his dreams—as well as anyone else’s who happens to be sharing Cobb’s.  No better looking saboteur has ever graced the screen than Cotillard.  Nolan deliberately framed her as a femme fatale, even though she was an atypical one.  She could be ferociously vindictive one moment and then heartbreakingly vulnerable the next.  Mal is the most developed character in the entire movie and she’s dead—that doesn’t say much for the rest of the characters, but still, she is the most memorable.  One very strange coincidence was Nolan’s choice to use Edith Piaf’s "Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien" as a plot device in a film where Cotillard’s character has many, many regrets—and of course, the fact that Cotillard won an Academy Award for playing Piaf in La Vie En Rose (2007) only adds to the strangeness. Although it may have been unintentional, it was still amusing to me and countless others.

 

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The Man in Grey (1943) **

First off, please don’t tell me I’ve misspelled “grey”—as this is a British film, so the title will be spelled in proper English.  Second, I am not surprised that you haven’t seen this—it’s rarely (if ever) shown on TCM and is unavailable on DVD in the USA. A friend hooked me up with an illegal viewing (names and places will be omitted in case the piracy police are on the prowl), so that’s how I came recently to see it.  Lastly, you should find a way to see this, as it is so outrageously different from anything in early-1940s English-speaking cinema.

The Man in Grey (1943) is a Gainsborough Pictures melodrama starring James Mason as Lord Rohan (literally the man in grey) and Phyllis Calvert as Clarissa (AKA Lady Rohan).  Ah, but they weren’t the real stars of the film, as Margaret Lockwood got top billing playing one of the most deplorable characters of her career—Hesther Barbary!  Based on Lady Eleanor Smith’s 1942 novel of the same name, the film is set during Regency England (1811-1820) and tells the story of how a beautiful, ebullient woman has her life ruined by a callous husband and a calculating “best” friend.  Quite simply, if I didn’t know the story was written by an Englishwoman, I would have thought it was French!

How can I describe this without telling you everything—thus ruining it (sort of) if you ever see it for yourself?  Little known British director Leslie Arliss must have been given free reign to do whatever he liked with Margaret Kennedy and Doreen Montgomery’s adapted screenplay—that should tell you all you need to know: woman author + 2 woman screenwriters = wickedness gone wild (especially for 1943).  In addition, it’s a costume melodrama, so the wardrobe and sets are somewhat gothic, which gives the film an almost otherworldly feel. 

Calvert’s blonde Clarissa represents innocence and goodness; Lockwood’s brunette Hesther represents evil and sinfulness. They meet at Miss Patchett's school for young ladies, where Clarissa is beloved by all and Hesther is shunned by everyone but Clarissa. When they meet a gypsy fortune teller (Beatrice Varley) she sees bad things to come for the two girls.  Obviously foreshadowing and foreboding are necessary elements of any good melodrama, so this is no surprise.  What is a surprise is how these bad things happen and by whom. 

Eventually, Hesther runs off and elopes with a local soldier and Clarissa meets and marries the man in grey, Lord Rohan.  To say that he his less than doting would be an understatement.  When asked why he married her, Rohan says Clarissa was pretty, healthy and able to produce an heir. James Mason is beyond brooding as Rohan, and, I must say, every bit the S.O.B. He lives by his family crest, which reads “He who dishonors us dies.”  Hence, he enjoys duels.  He also enjoys bad women, so when Clarissa brings the recently widowed Hesther into their home he finds her to his liking.  Hesther’s been through some hard times and has turned into quite the opportunist since her school days.  She wants everything that Clarissa has and she has no qualms about getting what she wants. I can’t recall Lockwood ever playing such an out-and-out bitch.  She makes you hate Hesther—there is nothing, and I mean nothing, redeeming whatsoever about her. 

Yet, don’t feel too sorry for Clarissa. Once she produces a son (which she and we never see) Rohan lets her do whatever she likes as long as it doesn’t dishonor his name. Also, for some reason, she is completely oblivious to the fact that her husband and best friend are carrying on a torrid affair—though I doubt she would have cared anyway, but it would have made her less likely to trust Hesther’s advice in her own illicit affair. Yes, Clarissa must have been attracted to no-good men, because she falls for another rogue in Rokeby (Stewart Granger).  And, this sets up two very shocking events, both of which Hesther plays a crucial role.  I won’t say what happens, but you will be both repulsed and outraged. 

There are a few things that make this film standout (some good, some just bizarre).  The affair between Rohan and Hesther is brazenly presented for our eyes. One scene has her leaving Rohan’s bedroom in the middle of the night and creeping back to her own. Just so many amoral characters running about in 1943 England when the Brits are trying to win WWII just seems wrong, but this is the only good thing about the film.

Another thing that stood out for me was Clarissa’s slave boy Toby, played by Harry Scott.  Okay, please don’t get upset about what I’m about to say, but what the hell! If you have seen this, please explain to me whether Harry Scott was black or if he was a white child in blackface.  When I checked on IMBD he only had one film credit and there is no information listed about him.  I know it sounds strange, but every scene he was in I couldn’t take my eyes off him (and not because his performance was great because it surely was not), because I was so shocked.  They couldn’t find a black child somewhere in England to play this part?  The things I find fascinating!

Okay, so what’s the final assessment?  The Man in Grey is an average movie with an above-average cast.  The final ten minutes of the film are what makes it memorable. Once you see how far Hesther will go to get what she wants you will never forget it—nor what she gets in return for her loathsome behavior. If you are interested, email me and I will inform you where you can procure a viewing.

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The Reckless Moment (1949) **

Who knew a 1949 film starring James Mason and Joan Bennett would be so obscure? It took me years to finally see this, and this would not have happened if TCM hadn’t finally premiered it this past January.  TCM has been on the air for almost thirty years, you would think The Reckless Moment might have found its way to the airwaves before now.  Yet, sometimes there are reasons a film doesn’t show up on TCM very often: it’s not popular, contract rights, lost prints, etc. Or, in the case of this film, it’s just not that good and not many people are clamoring to see it.  I suppose if the 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die book hadn’t listed it in its first edition many people wouldn’t have requested that TCM show it.  Ah, so much anticipation but so much disappointment—it reminds me of my first (and only) encounter with caviar.  For years I’d seen rich people on TV and in movies praise the glory of this delicacy, so imagine my disappointment when I tasted what amounted to salty Pop Rocks (without the sugar) in my mouth at a college luncheon.  How can you tactfully spit out such swill when you are surrounded by inquisitive academics who have a really bad habit of invading your personal space?  Perhaps my experience with The Reckless Moment wasn’t as bad as the one with caviar, but it was such a letdown.

The great Max Ophuls only directed four Hollywood films: The Exile (1947), Letter from an Unknown Woman (1948), Caught (1949), and this less than stellar endeavor. Of the four, only Letter from an Unknown Woman showcases his true brilliance. Many critics would disagree with my assessment of The Reckless Moment, as one has went so far as to call it a masterpiece on par with Ophuls’ French marvels The Earrings of Madame de…(1953), Lola Montes (1955), and La Ronde (1950). I can’t bring myself to say this for many reasons—the most important being I can’t decide what type of film it is.  Is it a film noir or a melodrama?  Personally, it feels like a combination of both, and I don’t like to mix oil and water together. 

Joan Bennett plays Lucia Harper, mother of two and fixer of all.  When her incessantly annoying teenage daughter Bea (Geraldine Brooks) gets involved with an unsavory older man named Darby (Shepperd Strudwick), she pays the man a visit and threatens him.  After an unfortunate accident involving her daughter, in which Darby falls from the Harper’s pier and unto an anchor, Lucia must drag the body out to sea and dispose of it.  Not long after this unusual chore, a very calm Irish thug named Martin Donnelly (James Mason) shows up and demands $5,000 for some letters Bea wrote to Darby.

Donnelly’s interactions with the entire Harper family can only be described as bizarre.  I think this is what I most dislike about the film.  There are few would-be movie gangsters that I recall being polite and friendly to those from whom they are extorting money.  He gives horseracing tips to the father-in-law (Henry O’Neill) and helps Lucia’s son (David Bair)fix something on his car.  Oh, and then there is his quick infatuation with Lucia herself. Mind you, an infatuation he knows can’t go anywhere since she thinks he’s scum.  Perhaps it was the short running time (a brisk 82 minutes) or the Hollywood constraints Ophuls found himself working under, but I couldn’t believe the sacrifices that Donnelly makes for Lucia.  While unfulfilled love is a consistent Ophuls’ theme, it does not work here.

The acting is not the issue, as both Mason and Bennett give good performances. He is quietly menacing and she is confidently controlled.  Mason comes off as his usually does—as though he isn’t trying.  To me, Bennett’s character is the more interesting of the two.  No matter what comes her way, Lucia always seems to steady herself and continue on with a cigarette in one hand and a plan in the other.  Thrown into a world so unlike her own she never seems to change—it’s perfectly natural that a blackmailer is in her living room and that her father-in-law wants to invite him to dinner. Perhaps if Ophuls had had more time to develop the story, or if the writers had written a better adaptation of Elizabeth Sanxay Holding’s “The Blank Wall”, Bennett’s strange performance could have saved this picture.  Who knows?

One thing, on a sort of side note, that we do know is that Bennett would personally find herself in a somewhat similar situation in 1951 when her husband, Walter Wanger (who produced this film), shot Bennett’s agent, Jennings Lang, because he was having an affair with Bennett.  Wanger’s sensational attempted-murder trial rocked Hollywood. Wanger pleaded temporary insanity (the crime of passion defense) and served four months.  Oddly enough, Bennett and Wanger remained married until 1965.  It is said that the clandestine meetings between Bennett and Lang were an inspiration for Billy Wilder’s The Apartment (1960).  The event effectively ended Bennett’s film career, she would only make a handful of movies following the incident. 

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