TomJH

Thanks, cigarjoe. And here's a YouTube clip of the "What a dump" scene from Beyond the Forest:

Let's not forget Sanders' actor brother, Tom Conway. In fact, according to IMDb, it was only through the luck of a toss of a coin that Sanders retained his real last name after he talked his brother into coming to Hollywood. His brother lost the coin toss over retention of their real name, Sanders, and changed his name professionally to Conway. Conway never enjoyed the same success as brother George, of course, but he did have a fairly decent film career during the '40s at RKO. He's remembered today , of course, primarily for playing the title role in ten fairly slick little B mysteries in the Falcon series, inheriting the part from Sanders when the latter grew tired of B film work and had his character killed off in one episode, The Falcon's Brother. Conway also appeared in a number of the Val Lewton thrillers, Cat People, I Walked With A Zombie and The Seventh Victim. Film work became more scattered for Conway during the '50s, though he did have a supporting role in one of his brother's films, Death of a Scoundrel. Failing eyesight and alcoholism lead to some lean final years for Conway, unfortunately, including a divorce and brother George breaking off all contact with him because of the drinking. In September, 1965 Conway got the kind of headlines no one wants, being found living in a $2 a day flophouse in Venice, California. Several internet sources, Wiki and IMBd, say that Zsa Zsa Gabor, his former sister-in-law at the time, visited Conway in the hospital in 1967 during one of his recuperations. She reputedly gave him $200, telling him to tip the nuirses generously so that he would get good service from them. Conway left the hospital the next day and took the money to his girlfriend's place, where he died in her bed. A rather sad ending for older brother Conway, six years prior to Sanders' death. Here's a shot of the two of them in better days:

MissW, I guess we're an increasingly endangered species, those who have actually seen Beyond the Forest. Davis imitators have turned the "What a dump!" line into a favourite camp classic, to which you yourself can attest with your pleasure at occasionally using it. But Warners was a studio that did melodrama like no other and even when the proceedings threaten to go a little over-the-top it only adds to the fascination of watching it, as far as I'm concerned. Beyond the Forest deserves to be seen again so viewers can have the opportunity to make their own appraisal of the film, yea or nay. With a film whose reputation has been slammed so much over the years, I was never in a hurry to see it. Now that I have, I'm glad I did and must say I had a good time watching Bette Davis in classic self-centred b***h mode.

Fred, that YouTube link had already been provided just two posts below your own. Wakie, wakie.

Thanks for your insight, bagladymimi. Goddard would be my second choice after Leigh.

The first sounds of the film is from the highly dramatic musical score of Max Steiner that instantly tells the viewer that what they are about to see is Melodrama. That opening title music is followed by a forward written across the screen: This is the story of evil. Evil is headstrong - is puffed up. For our soul's sake, it is salutary for us to view it in all its naked ugliness once in a while. Thus may we know how those who deliver themselves over to it, end up like the Scorpion, in a mad fury stinging themselves to eternal death. . . . end up like the Scorpion, in a mad fury stinging themselves to eternal death! Who writes like that? But I love it! And the viewer can't say that he or she hasn't been warned. I finally caught up with an old video tape copy of Beyond the Forest, the infamous 1949 Warner Brothers melo often hailed as a camp classic, the film that ended Bette Davis' 17 year career with the studio. The actress herself took great pleasure in forever deriding the picture whenever she talked about it afterward. Those three words serving as this thread's subject title, used by countless Davis imitators, drag queen acts and Liz Taylor in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe, has very much become a part of the Davis legend, probably the most famous line of dialogue of her career, along with All About Eve's "Fasten your seat belts. It's going to be a bumpy night." But the truth is that when Davis, looking a little old and a bit ridiculous in a long haired black wig, finally utters the line, while contemptuously glancing around her house, she gives it a throwaway delivery. It has none of the emphasis that the Davis imitators have given it over the years. However, I found this melodramatic film noirish brew which, unfortunately, seems to be currently tied up in litigation making its accessibility difficult, if not impossible, today, to be quite entertaining. I'm not saying it's a good film exactly, but Davis, playing a restless woman strutting around town, looking a tad too old to be wearing that wig, is fun to watch. Well, Warners was right when they came up with the promotional tag line for this film: Nobody's as good as Bette when she's bad! Playing Rosa Moline, a small town doctor's wife who is bored . . .Bored . . .BORED!!! with the place and her husband, seeking, no, make that lusting, for the excitement and glamour that Chicago and David Brian's character represent, Davis is a character with few, if any, redeeming virtues. She operates on a self-absorbed level way beyond that of the average teen. This is a woman willing to do just about anything (Melodrama with a capital M here) to get her way. (And, yes, by the way, this lady knows how to use a gun). I can fully understand why some might call this film's subject matter trashy. However I have to tell you that the climactic ending, bleak as it is, is dramatically staged by director King Vidor, as well as edited and photographed and played, of course, for all its worth by Davis. I think it takes great courage for any actor or actress to totally commit themself to playing a sequence for all the high charged drama they can muster. Davis has that courage is this film, as she did in many others. No one else in this film has much of a chance beside the star. Joseph Cotten, playing her saintly doctor husband, does manage bring a contrasting sense of decency to his role. A young Ruth Roman gets fourth billing in a totally forgettable part. However, Dona Drake, while having little to do, does bring a certain tired insolence to her role as Davis' gum chewing Indian maid. (That, of course, prompts a less than politically correct reaction from Davis at one point: "You get out of this house. No Red Indian is going to talk to me like that in my own house!" I hope for Davis and even non Davis fans that Beyond the Forest becomes available again. Many will tune in ready to laugh but I found this noirish drama to be something of a guilty pleasure. And Davis, when she plays it bad, is definitely fun to watch. For all of the melodrama that Beyond the Forest provides, it also has a quiet, oddly contemplative scene in which Davis and Cotten are lying on a hillside beside a collection of tall trees. Davis watches as lumberjacks come along and take a couple of swings with their axes at the trees marked to come down. Davis is very still, reflectively sad in this scene, commenting how the trees stand so tall and strong until someone comes along and marks them for death. She then asks her husband, "See any mark on me?" Cotten dismisses the question, laughing it off. "I always thought you were a rotten doctor," Davis says. It's a moment of self awareness on Davis' part. She knows she is doomed . . . like the scorpion.

James, you're quite correct. I forgot that Goddard did play more cynical types in the two films that you named. They were not really typical for her, however. I was thinking primarily of her more conventional leading lady roles when she was feisty but charming and likeable (ie. Cat and the Canary, Ghost Breakers, Unconquered, etc.). The closest that Goddard ever came to playing Scarlett was in DeMille's Reap the Wild Wind. But, again, there was none of the selfishness or manipulation to this Scarlett that was found in GWTW. Goddard is, in fact, at the peak of her charms and extremely likeable in that film, in my opinion. But those more cynical performances Goddard did that you pointed out did show that she could, indeed, play characters with more of an edge to them. Here's a YouTube link to various screen tests for GWTW. There are more clips of Paulette Goddad than most. I think that her scene with Jeffrey Lynn playing Ashley showed that she had strong potential in the part. There's more fire in her in this scene than she showed in most of her films, an illustration of what can be found in an actor or actress when they are inspired to rise to the occasion.

James, I can't think of another actress of that era that would have been a better choice for the role than Vivien Leigh. I don't believe that actresses such as Bette Davis or Katharine Hepburn would have been as effective since being great beauties was never their stock-in-trade and that role required considerable physical appeal. I don't much like Leigh (though she is superb in GWTW) nor do I like Scarlett as a character. For me, therefore, they are a perfect amalgamation. (Or is it that I dislike Scarlett because of Leigh?) I've often wondered, though, about vivacious, beautiful Paulette Goddard in the part. She tends to be dismissed as a serious dramatic actress, of course, but part of the reason for that is that she never had a part nearly as good as Scarlett. Still, unlike Leigh, Goddard had a high likeability factor going for her so it would have been a completely different characterization from the one that we finally got, I strongly suspect. Audience sympathy may not have fallen so much with Gable's Rhett if Goddard had been a less bitchy Scarlett. Still, no one would ever question why Gable would pursue Goddard. Unlike, I feel, Bette Davis in the same role. This is just more of the "what if" casting game that we like to play. Ultimately, the actress picked for the role was probably the best one.

While Vivien Leigh was not my own physical type, still, I recognize and understand why many called her a great beauty. And that was a large physical advantage that Leigh had in any casting as Scarlett over Bette Davis. Paulette Goddard clearly had the same physical advantage, as well, plus Goddard's screen test indicates a lot of fiestiness. Yes, Davis was most certainly high spirited in Jezebel and dramatically effective. How many people, though, would have taken her all that seriously as a southern belle who was also a great beauty, capable of manipulating men the way Scarlett could? Would it really be believable that devil-may-care womanizing Clark Gable's Rhett would so pursue Bette Davis' Scarlett? I suppose many real Bette Davis fans are probably ready to believe it. But what about the non-Davis fans who may, in fact, be larger in number? I know that beauty is a shallow consideration but it, too, is a part of Scarlett O'Hara, is it not?.

The casting negotiations that took place regarding GWTW have always been a little confusing to me. I believe I've heard talk that Bette Davis turned down the role of Scarlett if it meant that Flynn was going to be cast as Rhett with her. However, according to Ronald Haver in his book David O. Selznick's Hollywood the producer himself didn't want Davis, and he commented privately that he'd give the role to Katharine Hepburn before Bette would get it. Of course, it was Paulette Goddard that was a hot favourite of Selznick for the role of Scarlett, Goddard's inability to produce a marriage license in her relationship with Chaplin being a major stumbling block for her casting in the role. That is, until Vivien Leigh arrived on the scene. America may have thought that Gable was the only conceivable Rhett but Selznick did enter into negotiations with Sam Goldwyn for Gary Cooper's services for the role. Goldwyn, however, was opposed to the idea and let the negotiations die. It was then clear to Selznick that he had to concentrate on Mayer and MGM for Gable. We have to take a look at Cooper's performance in Saratoga Trunk to get an idea of what his Rhett Butler might have been like. (Interestingly, for a while, Warners were considering reuniting Errol Flynn and Olivia de Havilland for Saratoga Trunk before the roles ended up with Cooper and Bergman). I can see Flynn being fairly interesting in the part but de Havilland's casting as a vixien like that seems rather strange to me.

I'm sorry that I can't answer your question. However, I can say that there is no film in which Montez and Hall jump off a cliff together.

Wouldn't it have been great if Leslie Nielsen, during his early straight actor days, had played the part of the doctor in Zero Hour? Of course, to anyone who has seen him do his brilliant deapan comedic variation on the same role in Airplane, it would make Zero Hour virtually impossible to take seriously. It might also, of course, possibly make the film more fun. I can just imagine the confusion for another viewer (who has never seen Airplane) sitting beside a viewer was has, and wondering why he is breaking up so much during Zero Hour, particularly whenever Nielsen comes on screen.

Johnny Carson remains for me the model talk show host against which all others will be measured and probably found to be wanting. With Carson's retirement I essentially stopped watching late night television so others (if they remember Carson, of course) are better prepared than myself to make that comparison. Of course, I have seen Leno and Letterman but while they're both okay, I nostalgically still miss Carson. I'm grateful to TCM for giving its viewers (including those who never saw Carson before) an opportunity to see a little bit of that late night magic that once existed on the Tonight Show. (To be fair, though, it would be great to see Carson bouncing off Ed McMahon and Doc Severinsen, once again, as well). Carson really had it all as a host. He could be gracious and charming and he could also be hilariously funny (as a master of comedy timing, no one could milk an unexpected humorous situation quite like Johnny). Carson was clearly highly intelligent and well read or, at least, informed, but he also had, for all the sophistication of his presentation, a small Nebraska boy charm. Carson came across as GENUINE!!!! While there is no way to fit it into TCM's movie mandate, how I wish they could show lengthy clips of Carson when he interacted with animals brought on the show from the San Diego Zoo (the beautiful Joan Embery, do you remember?). He had as much rapport with the four legged kind as he did the two legged, and knew how to milk those encounters with animals for maximum comedic effect, at times, as well. Here's a YouTube link, all too brief, of Johnny with a few of the animals (four legged variety) that appeared on his show: Johnny Carson was also very special to me for a personal reason. After my father's very sudden death (he was 51), my mother couldn't get to sleep and we stayed up together for months watching the Tonight Show, which neither of us had really seen before. About three months after Dad's death one night Carson said or did something that made my mother laugh. But I mean she LAUGHED! She laughed loud and she laughed long. It was almost like a dam bursting. It was, in fact, the first time I had heard her laugh since Dad died. I will always be very grateful to Johnny Carson for that special moment when he helped my mother to discover that there was still laughter within her. When Johnny Carson retired I felt as if a death had occured because I was afraid that I would never see this old "friend" again. As it turned out, I was right. But thanks to TCM I can revisit this friend, with much the same nostalgia, I suppose, as seeing him in a home movie.

Having seen Airplane years ago and having now just seen Zero Hour for the first time, I have learned the following lessons from these two disaster films: 1. NEVER (!!!) eat fish on an airliner. 2. (And this is even more important): NEVER let both the pilot and co-pilot eat fish on an airliner. 3. NEVER leave your children alone with the pilot 4. If the pilot and co-pilot do eat the fish and get sick, and a passenger takes over as pilot, NEVER that passenger have the time to recall his old war experiences or he will probably crash the plane. 5. If any of the passengers look like Leslie Nielsen, rest assured, he IS a doctor, so see if he can give you any drugs to help you endure the bumpy ride (Weee, it might even be fun if he gives you some really good ones) 6. Sterling Hayden IS Robert Stack - I can't tell the difference, nor can I decide which one is funnier

*clore wrote:* {font:arial, helvetica, sans-serif}*OK, Payne had to leave the studio to make a change in his image, just as Powell had to do earlier. Funny, both those two started at Warners as light leading men in musical comedy and they wanted to stretch into tough guys while the biggest attraction at Warners, James Cagney, wanted to be a song and dance man.* That is an ironic observation, clore. But it's a reflection of the straight jacket frustration that so many actors (and actresses) felt about stereotyping. The thing is, when both Powell and Payne did get the opportunity to play tough guys they were very convincing in their roles. (Truth is, I would never have guessed that would be the case based on their earlier musical film work). Powell's films today are better known than Payne's noirish efforts. Powell was great, as we know, at the smart patter. Few actors could deliver a cynical zinger quite like Dick Powell. Even in a lesser effort like Johnny O'Clock, it's a pleasure for me to watch him. But John Payne was a far more physically imposing tough guy in a film like Kansas City Confidential or, especially, 99 River Street. When Powell took a sock at Mike Mazurki in Murder My Sweet I thought, "What ARE you doing?" If the tough guy Payne of the '50s had done it, well, he looked like he could have at least made Mazurki sweat a little in a physical altercation. {font}

Mr. Muller, it's been a really fun ride this month watching those film noirs, along with your pungent comments both before and after each film. In particular, I'd like to thank you and TCM for introducing me to The Burglar, which I had never seen before. I'm glad to see that you, too, admire Dick Powell's work (I'm talking, in particular, about his post-Murder My Sweet career, of course) and it's great to hear that TCM will be showing Pitfall in September. It's a noir everyone should see. The only regret I have about Powell as Marlowe was that scene in his undershirt, as someone earlier pointed out on his thread. (Perhaps that's the reason why Warners didn't show Bogart in his undershirt when he played Marlowe - the visually underwhelming result would have been much the same, I suspect). Your suggestion of William Holden as Marlowe is an excellent one. Aside from Holden's impressive physique and line delivery, not a lot of actors were more successful at portraying cynicism than the Bill Holden of the '50s. You mentioned Powell as an underrated talent, which is true, as a combination of actor, singer, producer, director, television pioneer. But when it comes to underrated screen Marlowes, what about James Garner? Yes, the film itself was a modern update and people tend to remember Bruce Lee chopping up his furniture. But Garner himself had the physique (every bit as much as Holden, perhaps moreso), plus the cynical attitude and an incredible line delivery that I think matched that of Dick Powell. One more thing, Mr. Muller, you've been a class act for coming on these boards and sharing your opinions with us here. I want to put in a special thanks for that. It is my sincere hope that we will see you on the channel again soon. You've been a great host. Your love and knowledge of all things noir is apparent to all.

Thanks, NoraCharles. I wondered if that might be the case. Would anyone know, though, why Woolrich didn't always use his own name?

MissW, I think the Robert Mitchum remake, properly titled Farewell My Lovely, is pretty good, too. Yeah, Mitch was looking a little long in the private eye tooth but his beat up appearance still was effective. And I love the '40s noirish sounding musical score of that film. It sounds representative of lonely people in the big city, particular with that coronet lead. My chief complaint about the film is that so much of it is set in the dark that sometimes it's a little difficult to make out everything. But Dick Powell and the stylish Murder My Sweet is still a very special Marlowe treat for me. And it's a film with the role and performance of Mike Mazurki's career. Mazurki managed to be both threatening and sympathetic. The drug induced hallucination scene to which you referred in the Powell version is a gem, more impressive, I feel, than when they did a variation of it in the Mitchum remake.

Actually, MissW, it was Deadline at Dawn that said it was based on a novel by William Irish. That caused some Cornel Woolrich confusion for me too. I would also like to say that as much as I enjoy watching Bogie do his Bogart thing as Marlowe, I truly LOVE Dick Powell as Marlowe in Murder My Sweet. Nobody (with the possible exception of James Garner) has ever been able to deliver Chandlerisk (did I just invent a word?) one liners with the same aplomb and nonchalance as Powell. It makes me wish that Powell had had that shot he wanted at the Walter Neff role in Double Indemnity, though I take nothing from Fred MacMurray's performance.

crazyblonde, I have seen all those Cagney films that you named and, with the possible exception of Mayor of Hell (more the fault of the material than the actor), thought that he was terrific in them. But I really don't think that those kind of parts prove that he was Robin Hood material. And sure as heck being a Great New Yorker is NOT a priority for playing the rogue of Sherwood Forest. The Warner Brothers Robin Hood was not just a figure of dashing athleticism but also romance. In that regard, Flynn, in his prime years, while convincing as a man of action also possessed a physical elegance in his bearing that made him ideal for the role of romantic costume hero. There were only a handful of other actors that had that same quality, though it could be argued none more so than Flynn. And fast talking, fast punching wise guy Cagney simply wasn't one of them. But there's no shame in that. After all, Cagney still remains, no matter what his height, one of the giants of that era of filmmaking. But he's a giant because of his brilliance in roles that have nothing in common with the kind of parts played by Flynn.

crazy(forCagney)blonde, I gather that if you selected a shot of Cagney from A Midsummer Night's Dream then, for your Robin Hood illustration, it would NOT be when he had on an ***'s head. Cagney might have made a punchy (literally) Robin Hood and he clearly would have tried to have fun with unorthodox costume casting for him. However, it would have been a risk for Warners to cast him, unlike a natural for the role, such as Flynn. Remember, Cagney was usually cast, aside from the tough guy stuff, as a 20th Century guy. He was very much at the time of the making of Robin Hood playing roles in which a depression weary America identified with him in depression era roles (if not a gangster then a con man or an aviator or even a Hollywood star who had been a bellhop). But he was NOT cast in costume films during the '30s. (With the exceptions of The Frisco Kid or The Oklahoma Kid in which he was not taken seriously). Cagney and Flynn were both terrific personality stars. Cagney was also, in my opinion, a great actor while Flynn was a good actor who was always underappreciated. And when either actor was cast in a role that was right for them, then they were PERFECT. Robin Hood was a perfect fit for handsome, athletic Flynn who knew how to deliver deliver sometimes florid dialogue (particularly some of the dialogue they handed him in Captain Blood). You may regard James Cagney as a handsome man (it's apparent you're a real fan) but the appeal that Cagney had to his fan base never had anything to do with great looks. He was a pleasant looking man but always had the common man mug with which so many of his admirers identified. That is NOT the kind of persona that goes with a larger-than-life fantasy figure like Robin Hood. (At least the way that he would be presented by Warners with Flynn). Also, Flynn knew how to look convincing with a sword on screen. There's no evidence that Cagney knew anything about swordplay. (and what a mismatch that would have been, pitting him against Basil Rathbone!) Perhaps they would have even jettisoned swordplay in the film because of that limitation on Jimmy's part. (Another reason I'm glad they cast Flynn). In any event, Cagney, as I said earlier, may have been a fun, bouncey Robin Hood on screen. I'm so glad, however, that Errol Flynn was around at that time to play the role with a panache that no one else at that time could have matched.

As well as James Stewart in costume for Night Passage.

Can't fool you, can I, clore. P.S. Take a look at the "Cagney as Robin Hood" thread in the Films and Filmmakers forum.

Just to help you envision Cagney in the role: as[/i]Robin+Hood.jpg]

Two screen legends, James Stewart and Orson Welles on a Universal back lot in 1957, with some fat little clown between them (anyone known the name of the clown?)