Before January has passed, here are a few more films.

The Green Cockatoo (1937), directed by William Cameron Menzies. “I cannot give advice, I am a philosopher.” So says, the bearded fellow who meets Eileen (Rene Ray) on the night train from Salford to London, and so begins Eileen’s night adventure. As soon as she disembarks, she meets Dave Connor (Robert Newton) who has been stabbed by heavies who are after him for cheating them at the dog races. Eileen soon finds herself wanted for Dave’s murder. On the run, she finds Dave’s brother Jim (John Mills), a hoofer who works at the nightclub called The Green Cockatoo. Both Eileen and Jim find themselves pursued by the thugs, led by a guy named Terrell (Charles Oliver), and we have night scenes worthy of Hollywood noir. With director Menzies we can be sure of some stylish cinematography. The story is not particularly novel, but Grahame Greene’s script does have its captivating moments. The fellow on the train, for example, and also the inebriated taxi driver who wants to take Eileen to Bristol. These two characters are throwaways, appearing briefly but not having anything to do with the plot. In short, this is a gamely mounted little thriller in the noir mould.

 

Beggars in Ermine (1934), directed by Phil Rosen. This is an ambitious little Monogram picture that centres on manipulation of the stock market in Depression-era America. Steel Mill owner, John ‘Flint’ Dawson (Lionel Atwell), suffers an injury in his factory; he loses both legs in what is supposed to look like an accident, but is really an attempt on his life orchestrated by his rival, Jim Marley (Jamieson Thomas). In the aftermath, Dawson loses his mill and ends up begging for money on the streets, accompanied by a new friend, the blind beggar Marchant (Henry B. Walthall). Dawson is a socialist, although the word is never used. He had worked his way up in the steel industry and as an owner he continued to have his lunch with the workers. Now, as a beggar, he sets out to organize other beggars in his city and across the country until he eventually has an organization rich and prosperous. All the beggars who joined this collective are now financially secure. Meanwhile, Marley has run off with Dawson’s wife, killed her, and returned to bilk the workers of his own mill. The film has much footage of the steel mill and its workings. It also gives us Lionel Atwell as a truly good man. His goodness is evident in the guard dog who protects his property once he has regained his wealth. This dog may look imposing, but he or she is friendly and eager to please. The film may be a tad melodramatic, but its look at corrupt managers of industry whose greed is out of control seems apt for our own times.

 

Prisoner of Japan (1942), directed by Arthur Ripley and Edgar G. Ulmer. Not the most impressive of Ulmer’s pictures, Prisoner of Japan is clearly meant to rally the American public to the war effort. On a small Pacific island, the Japanese have taken over and set up a special communications network to find U.S. ships in the region, find them and then blow them up. On this island lives an American astronomer, David Bowman (Alan Baxter) who is a self-pitying drunk. He is also under the control of the Japanese, headed by the evil Matsuru (Ernst Deutsch, a Czech born actor). Then we have the young woman who lands on the island hoping to find a way back to the U.S. This is Toni Chase (Gertrude Michael). Toni and David end up spoiling the Japanese plans to bomb a U.S. convoy. The two of them go down with the ship, as it were, noble heroes saving American lives. Unlike a film such as Casablanca, this one does not rise above its rallying cry to the audience to support the war effort.

 

Stolen Face (1952), directed by Terence Fisher. This is an American (Lippert) and British (Hammer) co-production. It is a precursor of Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958). It is also far-fetched. Brilliant plastic surgeon Dr. Philip Ritter (Paul Henreid) agrees to restore the scarred face of career criminal and prison inmate waiting for parole Lily Conover (Mary Mackenzie). Before the surgery, Dr. Phil goes on a week’s holiday during which he meets American concert pianist Alice Brent (Lizabeth Scott), falls in love, asks her to marry him, is turned down, and returns home morose and pining for the lost Alice. Going back to work, Dr. Phil goes about restoring prisoner Lily’s face, and lo and behold when the bandages come off, Lily looks just like Alice. The good doctor marries her and proceeds to try and transform her into his lost Alice, rendering her a blond who wears clothes like Alice’s. He even tries to give Lily culture, taking her to the opera where she is bored. She soon returns to her felonious ways and also brings her rowdy friends to the Dr.’s flat. Poor Dr. Phil only gets more frustrated when Alice returns to let him know she is back and ready for a long-term relationship. What’s a fellow to do? A train ride ensues during which – well, you will have to watch and see for yourself. The film has its charms, not least the luminous Lizabeth Scott, an actor who brings interest to a number of films in the noir genre. This film has something of a noir sensibility crossed with the mad doctor horror genre. For all its nuttiness, it does hold one’s interest.

The Inner Circle (1946), directed by Philip Ford. Here is a short zippy mystery with the detective Johnny Strange (Warren Douglas) out to clear his name of a murder rap. The murdered man is a gossip columnist, a fellow named Fitch, and Johnny gets caught up in the case after he hires a new secretary, Geraldine Travis (Adele Mara), who is a woman with a secret. This little mystery moves along quickly with snappy dialogue and a cast of familiar faces playing a variety of characters, all of whom may be the real murderer. Everything comes to a conclusion when Johnny assembles the crowd in a radio studio and has the people act out their parts in what has previously transpired. This is quite a satisfying programmer. Familiar faces include: William Frawley, Ricardo Cortez, Dorothy Adams, Will Wright, and a young Robert Wilke.

The Case of the Lucky Legs (1935), directed by Archie Mayo. This is a Perry Mason mystery with Warren Williams starring as the brilliant lawyer. In this one, he and his assistant Della Street (Genevieve Tobin) drink and banter like Nick and Nora Charles. Mason also manages to solve the murder of Frank Patton (Craig Reynolds), a con man who cheats beauty contest winners out of their money. The action is played for laughs; Allen Jenkins turns up as Spudsy, Mason’s factotum, to give the comic turn even more prominence. There is no court room scene in the film. As for the mystery, it works well enough. We have suspects, the two women who are cheated out of their prize money, the doctor who is in love with one of these women, and then one other character who lurks in the background of the mystery. The cast, with familiar faces such as Porter Hall, Barton MacClane, Olin Howland, Mary Treen, and Patricia Ellis, are likeable and earnest. The Lucky Legs of the title refers to a contest in which women are judged on the beauty of their legs, and the film is wise enough to note how unpleasant such a contest is.