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Miss Pinkerton (1932, Lloyd Bacon)

Posted on 10 October 2012 | Leave a comment

It’s not difficult to assign blame for Miss Pinkerton‘s failings, it’s difficult to identify anything good about it.

I suppose Joan Blondell bad in the lead, but she isn’t good. She’s just doing a persona. Wait, George Brent is good. He’s the police inspector who–quite unrealistically–enlists nurse Blondell to investigate a wacky family for him. He doesn’t believe a murder is a suicide. Or vice versa.

But Blondell just walking around wide-eyed and a little flirty isn’t enough to make a movie. Pinkerton needs some kind of mystery, right?

One mystery might be why the filmmakers use the exteriors to a large house–not a mansion or estate–as the film’s central location. It’s endlessly large in the interiors, which don’t match the exteriors at all.

The supporting cast is atrocious, except C. Henry Gordon. Particularly bad are John Wray and Ruth Hall. Wray acts like he’s in a farce and Hall’s laughable as the victim’s fiancée.

The real problem with Pinkerton is director Bacon. He can’t get good performances from his cast and he can’t make the film’s weak mystery engaging. He also doesn’t seem to understand head room. People are constantly bumping their heads in Pinkerton.

Bacon’s problems directing aren’t immediately apparent because Ray Curtiss’s editing is so awful. It actually distracts from the direction until the head room issues get too obvious.

Barney McGill’s photography, while no great shakes, is competent at least.

Pinkerton‘s greatest success is being really short but still exceptionally boring.

CREDITS

Directed by Lloyd Bacon; screenplay by Niven Busch, Lillie Hayward and Robert Tasker, based on the novel by Mary Roberts Rinehart; director of photography, Barney McGill; edited by Ray Curtiss; produced by Hal B. Wallis; released by Warner Bros.

Starring Joan Blondell (Nurse Adams), George Brent (Police Inspector Patten), Ruth Hall (Paula Brent), John Wray (Hugo), Elizabeth Patterson (Juliet Mitchell), C. Henry Gordon (Dr. Stuart), Holmes Herbert (Arthur Glenn), Mary Doran (Florence Lenz), Blanche Friderici (Mary), Mae Madison (Second Nurse), Nigel De Brulier (Coroner James A. Clemp) and Eulalie Jensen (Miss Gibbons – Superintendent of Nurses).

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Posted in 1932, Black and White, Comedy, English, Mystery, Thriller, USA, Warner Bros.

Tagged Barney McGill, Blanche Friderici, C. Henry Gordon, Elizabeth Patterson, Eulalie Jensen, George Brent, Hal B. Wallis, Holmes Herbert, Joan Blondell, John Wray, Lillie Hayward, Lloyd Bacon, Mae Madison, Mary Doran, Mary Roberts Rinehart, Nigel De Brulier, Niven Busch, Ray Curtiss, Robert Tasker, Ruth Hall

Nightmare Alley (1947, Edmund Goulding)

Posted on 26 March 2008 | Leave a comment

Nightmare Alley is–or should be–a cautionary tale about the dangers of foreshadowing and being really cute about it. The end of the movie is forecast in the opening scene, then again in the third or fourth scene–hammered in for those who weren’t paying enough attention the first time. The second time key phrases are dropped to make the scene stick in memory, so it all comes up again towards the middle of the film–the inevitable conclusion. I was going to say the worst was how long it took for the film to get to that conclusion (and it takes forever), but the bad pacing isn’t the worst. The worst is what happens at the end, the surprise. The whole movie, which had been cheapening itself for the entire third act, goes all the way with the ending.

Had the film continued as well as it started, it’d be more unfortunate, but the late second act and severe third act sink make the failure a lot more palatable. The beginning–and the rest of the film really–is beautifully directed. Goulding works wonders with group shots, two shots, everything. His composition is an incredibly impressive feast for the eyes. Even the script, on the dialogue level, isn’t bad. The plot just gets more and more ludicrous. After a certain point, it begins to strain credibility as familiar characters disappear and it just gets to be scenes with Tyrone Power and Helen Walker. When it brings Coleen Gray back (she’s fantastic as Power’s suffering and supportive wife), it’s only to get the disastrous conclusion going.

Power–in what could have been his best performance, if only the character hadn’t fallen apart along with the plot–is great, as is Joan Blondell. Ian Keith is also excellent. The beginning mostly just gives the actors dialogue, plot, and room to act really well. Combined with Goudling’s direction, it makes Nightmare Alley seem as though its potential is limitless, but then the plot starts closing off possibilities, boxing in the characters and restricting the actors. Maybe it is a severe mishap after all–especially since it’s probably Gray’s biggest role and she’s so good until the script fails her.

CREDITS

Directed by Edmund Goulding; screenplay by Jules Furthman, based on the novel by William Lindsay Gresham; director of photography, Lee Garmes; edited by Barbara McLean; music by Cyril J. Mockridge; produced by George Jessel; released by 20th Century Fox.

Starring Tyrone Power (Stan Carlisle), Joan Blondell (Zeena Krumbein), Coleen Gray (Molly Carlisle), Helen Walker (Lilith Ritter), Taylor Holmes (Ezra Grindle), Mike Mazurki (Bruno) and Ian Keith (Pete Krumbein).