Batman and Robin (1949) ch08 – Robin Meets the Wizard!

Robin Meets the Wizard! does indeed feature Johnny Duncan’s Robin meeting the Wizard. The masked, unknown (undoubtedly until the last chapter) Wizard knocks Duncan out while Duncan’s on lookout. More like the boy blunder. Wokka wokka.

Other than the chapter title actually referring to an event in the chapter, there’s nothing distinctive about this one. Oh, except Robert Lowery’s Batman teasing and humiliating Jane Adams. Misogyny is cool in Gotham City.

The music, chosen by from existing material by Mischa Bakaleinikoff, is once again rather effective. Bakaleinikoff is about the only one on Batman and Robin doing good work.

For whatever reason, maybe because it’s the “more than halfway” point, Wizard repeats a long sequence with a remote controlled submarine going to the Wizard’s lair. It was all right the first time. It’s still sort of all right here, but it’s clearly a time waster. Batman and Robin is already enough of a waste of time. When it wastes time wasting time it’s excruciating.

The cliffhanger resolution at the open is lifted from the previous Batman serial (without the production values) and the cliffhanger at the end of this chapter’s rather tepid.

Batman and Robin is an unrewarding chore.

Batman and Robin (1949) ch07 – The Fatal Blast

Shockingly, there is actually a blast in The Fatal Blast. Sadly it seems unlikely to be fatal enough, as there are eight more chapters to go. Not even halfway through Batman and Robin.

After the cliffhanger resolution, which is yet another boring one, everyone thinks–as always–Batman and Robin are dead. Even butler Alfred (Eric Wilton), which gives Robert Lowery the chance to tease him.

Then Lowery and Johnny Duncan, out of costume, go visit police commissioner Lyle Talbot–apparently as concerned citizens (again, why doesn’t Jane Adams ever wonder why Lowery cares so much about law enforcement when he’s just a layabout blue blood). That meeting with Talbot just leads to everyone again suspecting Rick Vallin of being the masked villain, the Wizard, but the serial makes sure to throw some suspicion William Fawcett’s way.

Adams does finally ask Lowery–in costume as Batman–why he’s driving Bruce Wayne’s car. Lowery doesn’t have a good answer, so he steals Adams’s keys. But she outsmarts him. She’s got a spare.

There’s more bumping into one another–but not bumbling–thugs, some Batman climbing around outdoors (his only apparent skill in the serial), and then the cliffhanger. With that (sadly non-fatal) blast.

It’s beyond tedious.

Batman and Robin (1949) ch06 – Target – Robin!

Sadly, Johnny Duncan’s Robin is not actually a target in Target – Robin!. The chapter wouldn’t be any more compelling if he were, but it get Batman and Robin moving in a new direction. Instead, it’s more of the same. Tepid cliffhanger resolution, bad acting from Robert Lowery and Duncan, some more costumed adventuring, a quick appearance from Jane Adams, Don C. Harvey giving the only thing approaching an adequate performance.

This chapter has the added stupidity of Lowery disguising himself as a thug (who is in police custody). None of the bad guys notice Lowery isn’t their pal. At first it seems like it’s because he’s got on a head bandage. Then the head bandage comes off and they still aren’t sure he’s not their pal. Maybe there was a missing page in the script where Lowery puts on some makeup?

The serial’s not exactly trying, it’s just mindnumbing. Lowery’s such a bad lead. Duncan’s such a bad sidekick. Adams is so pointless. At least when the bad guys are all bumping into each other running around Batman and Robin amuses.

It’s not even half over and there’s nothing to suggest it’s ever going to get any better. Or even more amusing.

Though, once again, Ira H. Morgan’s day-for-night photography is perfectly good… just so long as it’s not an action shot.

Batman and Robin (1949) ch05 – Robin Rescues Batman!

Once again, the chapter title doesn’t have much to do with the chapter. Robin Rescues Batman. Okay, sure. If you count Robin (Johnny Duncan) hiding until the bad guys leave with the stolen formula then going in and checking on an unconscious Batman (Robert Lowery). The bad guys have this extended escape sequence–Batman and Robin’s secret to serial mediocrity, even with the bad acting from the leads and the goofy costumes, is how well director Bennet paces the action.

It goes on and on. But it’s always active. There’s always something. Except when it’s Lowery and Duncan trying to figure things out. Then it just hangs; Lowery’s a fun kind of bad in costume and an intolerable kind of it as Bruce Wayne.

Anyway. Eventually Lowery and Duncan figure out what’s going on with the bad guys, thanks to Jane Adams. She shows up looking to take pictures and spots the bad guys. Including her brother (George Offerman Jr.).

There’s then this subplot about Adams trying to figure out what to do with Offerman while lead thug Don C. Harvey–who really does keep the serial afloat with his professionalism–fighting with the masked, mysterious Wizard to save Offerman’s life.

There’s a fight scene finishing the chapter. On the docks. Batman versus like five bad guys. He holds his own, which is weird since three of them kick his butt in the opening.

Ira H. Morgan’s day-for-night photography is almost good, but he can’t do the action with it. It’d be nice for something in the serial to actually succeed. Maybe someday.

Batman and Robin (1949) ch04 – Batman Trapped!

Most of this chapter, Batman Trapped, is a resolution of the previous chapter’s cliffhanger. There’s no trapped Batman in this chapter. There’s kidnapped Robin; more on that development in a bit.

After the immediate resolution of the cliffhanger–thanks to Batman (Robert Lowery) having a lot of tree climbing skill–the bad guys decided they’re going to go beat up Robin (Johnny Duncan). Duncan and the goons do a little slapstick chase thing, with the dramatic music sapping away the humor potential, before one of the bad guys slaps Duncan and knocks him out. Not much fighting winning going on for Batman and Robin anymore.

Well, eventually Duncan escapes; he too is an expert tree climber. The goons aren’t expert tree climbers. He goes back to spy on the goons–Lowery is taking his sweet time rescuing Duncan, spending most of the first ten minutes driving. Or climbing trees. The goons are interrogating Marshall Bradford with a lot of expository dialogue. The chapter has almost all expository dialogue, except when Jane Adams complains she never gets to take photographs.

After the goons escape, because Duncan–running around in his tights without his shoes–can’t stop them, Lowery and Duncan go visit Bradford in the hospital. Commissioner Gordon (Lyle Tablot) is cool with private citizen Lowery hanging out. Adams doesn’t question why lazy playboy Lowery wants to lounge around Bradford’s hospital room.

Lowery and Duncan let the goons bug the room and then have to get into costume to try to stop them from stealing a secret formula. They both get beat up again. Really, lead goon Don C. Harvey is so much more likable than Lowery or Duncan, it’s hard to root for the heroes. They’re somewhere between incompetent and stupid.

There’s nothing good about Batman Trapped, other than it moving briskly–director Bennet never lets it drag–although some of the silliness is distracting

Batman and Robin (1949) ch03 – Robin’s Wild Ride

I actually can’t figure out why this chapter is called Robin’s Wild Ride. Robin (Johnny Duncan) does not have a wild ride. Unless they mean when he gets to drive the car for a bit at the beginning. The chapter’s cliffhanger resolution is pretty tepid, but Batman and Robin clearly isn’t trying for thrilling cliffhangers, just something to stop a chapter. Batman (Robert Lowery) takes on three thugs and gets beat up. Duncan gets in a fight with another. He gets beat up.

Towards the end, Lowery fights another three thugs–probably the same three, actually–and does a little better. He still ends up losing because it’s cliffhanger time and the mysterious Wizard is able to zap him through a tire iron with a remote control ray. It’s pretty silly stuff.

In between, the Wizard terrorizes scientist Marshall Bradford with a hologram-type thing. Bradford gets temporarily zonked by the Wizard’s newly revealed superpower–he can mind control thanks to flashing eyes.

Lowery and Duncan are still suspicious of radio announcer Rick Vallin, who once again tips off the bad guys on his broadcast. The one he does from his living room. Jane Adams shows up looking for Bradford only to get locked up in a broom closet by the bad guys. It’s kind of a lackluster response from the villains, as Adams has seen all their faces, but the bad guys don’t appear to carry guns in Batman and Robin. They don’t need to since Lowery and Duncan are losing the fistfights.

Duncan’s got a lot of exposition and, wow, he’s bad. And Lowery looks like he’s sleepwalking as Bruce Wayne. He’s at least amusing as Batman, because it’s silly. All Batman and Robin has going for it, three chapters in, is the silly.

Batman and Robin (1949) ch02 – Tunnel of Terror

Even with Robert Lowery’s exceptionally questionable performance as Batman and Bruce Wayne, Tunnel of Terror is a relatively fine serial chapter. The cliffhanger resolution at the beginning is pretty weak, but then it turns out Lowery and Johnny Duncan have an almost superpower–they can sneak around really, really quietly. And not just indoors. They can also sneak around outdoors.

They let the bad guys get away though, ending up at soon to be prime suspect William Fawcett’s mansion. There they find leading Jane Adams with her foot stuck in the ground. She’s nonplussed by Lowery and Duncan in their costumes, which makes the scene play rather amusingly. Lowery chastises Fawcett for setting traps, regardless of bad guys wanting to spy on him. Then Adams is gone, as is Fawcett, and Lowery and Duncan are after someone else.

There’s a chase scene in a train yard–Tunnel has a lot of exterior shooting, lots of Batman and Robin running around in the daytime–and then a fight scene on top of the train.

Lowery’s not good. Duncan’s not good. Adams doesn’t seem to be very good either. But Fawcett’s all right and henchman Don C. Harvey gives the production a sense of sturdiness. It’d be nice if that reassurance came from the leads, but whatever. Tunnel’s okay.

And some of the music choices (all sourced from other places) are strong. Some aren’t, of course. But some work out beautifully.

Batman and Robin (1949) ch01 – Batman Takes Over

Batman and Robin gets off to a surprisingly reasonable start, even after a spectacularly absurd opening montage sequence. Gotham City is facing an unexplained crime wave; the footage they start with is a dairy hold-up. Then there are some clips from the previous Batman serial, which might be why the chapter, Batman Takes Over, impresses so much (within reason).

The chapter starts with an introduction to the good guys–Robert Lowery and Johnny Duncan play Batman and Robin. Both their performances are utterly lacking, but Lowery’s so much better in costume and not trying to emote, the costumed scenes uptick the quality. Then there’s photojournalist Vicki Vale (Jane Adams). She hangs out around Lowery for some reason, even though all he does is yawn at her. Lyle Talbot plays Commissioner Gordon. In this chapter he manages to be too late to save the day but does get to turn on the “Batman signal.” An uncredited Eric Wilton plays Alfred.

George H. Plympton, Joseph F. Poland, and Royal K. Cole’s script is procedural with all the introductions, which keeps up after the good guy introductions. There’s an action sequence interrupting Lowery yawning at Adams–Adams’s performance seems affable but thin; it’s mostly a car chase, with Ira H. Morgan’s day-for-night photography bringing some charm. After that sequence, which has Lowery and Duncan hanging out in costume with Talbot (this scene is where it’s clear how much better Lowery’s going to be without visible expression), mad scientist William Fawcett gets introduced. He’s wheelchair-bound, but it turns out he’s got some machine to give him back use of his legs and make him into an all-around superman.

Is he the mysterious, masked villain, The Wizard (who gets introduced right after Fawcett reveals he can walk)? Or maybe the Wizard is radio announcer Rick Vallin, who runs his news show from his living room. Actually Takes Over doesn’t hint at Vallin, it just suggestively cuts to him.

The serial’s locations are somewhat amusing. Lowery, Duncan, and Wilton live in suburban home. They go down under to the Batcave, but when they need to get in the car, it’s parked in the driveway. They use the same car crimefighting as they do out of costume. Apparently photog Adams doesn’t pay close attention to visual hints.

Fawcett gets to live in a mansion, however, and the Wizard has his own underground liar filled with electronic equipment.

Lowery and Duncan don’t get much to do on their own. They listen to exposition, they get into a fistfight (winning this one, unlike the previous serial’s caped crusaders), they hang out with Adams. Duncan probably gets six lines. It’s all action, which director Bennet handles okay, usually involving the Wizard’s henchmen. Don C. Harvey plays one of the main ones; he’s good.

The cliffhanger’s okay too.

And the serial has a lot of fun with the Wizard’s remote control device; he can control any vehicle, no matter what size, and maybe even people. If they steal enough diamonds. Because the remote control runs on diamonds.

It’s nowhere near as bad as I was expecting.

Superman (1948, Spencer Gordon Bennet and Thomas Carr)

Superman is a long fifteen chapters. The first two chapters are the “pilot.” They set up Kirk Alyn as Superman. He comes to Earth as a baby–with the Krypton sequences in the first chapter the most impressive thing in the entire serial–and grows up through montage to become Alyn. The first chapter has him heading off to Metropolis, intent on becoming a reporter so he can keep his ear to the ground for trouble. Except there’s trouble–a runaway train; wouldn’t you know it, Lois Lane (Noel Neill) and Jimmy Olsen (Tommy Bond) are on that very same train.

For a while, Superman keeps up the pretense its a special effects spectacular. Sure, Superman flying is just a cartoon, but there’s a lot of super-action. And then there’s less. And then there’s less. And the script doesn’t make up for it. Screenwriters Arthur Hoerl, Lewis Clay, and Royal K. Cole take away from Alyn and, eventually, Neill and Bond to focus on the villains. Because only the bad guys get any developments. They’ve got the schemes, they have all the new characters, they have all the action. Alyn, Neill, and Bond are mostly just cliffhanger bait.

The first two chapters of Superman set up the ground situation. They also introduce Perry White (Pierre Watkin), the Daily Planet, whatever else. Third chapter brings in villain Carol Forman. She’s playing the Spider Lady. Most of the cast is her gang of interchangeable thugs. Except George Meeker and Charles Quigley. Quigley because he’s a mad scientist, Meeker because he never gets to do anything except bicker with Forman. Wait; he does torture the good scientist (Herbert Rawlinson), but it’s offscreen. Chapter three also introduces the “Reducer Ray.” Superman has a mission from the government to protect it. But Forman wants to steal it.

At one point, she tries to steal it using a ray more powerful than the reducer ray. Superman’s short on sense.

Alyn foils most of Forman’s early schemes. Then she discovers Kryptonite. For a while, Alyn versus Kryptonite is a big part of Superman. He can’t rescue Bond because of Kryptonite, he can’t rescue Neill, whatever. Bond or Neill. One of them is always in trouble, usually for doing the exact same stupid thing they did to get in trouble before. By the end of the serial, Bond ought to have more rapport with the bad guys; he spends most of his screentime their captive.

After the Kryptonite plotline, Superman just becomes about Forman trying to get Quigley to try to get Rawlinson to do something with the reducer ray. Steal it, duplicate it, destroy it, something. And Watkin wants Neill, Bond, and Alyn to get to Quigley before the cops–even though everyone’s aware of Forman’s Spider Lady, she’s not the target of the investigation. There aren’t really any cops in Superman. The occasional flatfoot or jail guard, but otherwise, it’s all either Neill, Bond, and Alyn or Forman and her goons. Even when Alyn–as Superman–captures a goon, he’ll deliver them to the Daily Planet for interrogation instead of the cops. It’s a very, very strange system of criminal justice they’ve got in Metropolis. It’s also incredibly ineffective because, while Watkin can fight, Bond can’t. Neill can’t. Alyn can’t. Alyn’s never Superman when he needs to be. He’s always Clark Kent at the worst times. Sometimes intentionally. Alyn goes on the reducer ray transport mission–the one Superman’s supposed to be doing–as Clark Kent to cover the story.

Four screenwriters and they couldn’t come up with anything better. Directors Bennet and Carr wouldn’t have been able to handle much better though. Not with action. Their problems shooting action–specifically rising action and tension–are clear from the second chapter. They never improve. They may even get worse once the serial gets into the treading water portion of its chapters. Chapters nine through fifteen are pretty much indistinguishable from one another; the set pieces are never significant (except for Watkin’s fight scene). Superman frontloads its superhero action. Alyn gets a little bit more to do at the end–in chapter fifteen, not fourteen, they really wait for the end in fifteen–but it’s not spectacular. In fact, his great scheme to put a stop to Forman once and for all is something he could’ve done in chapter five. And spared us the rest of the serial.

Bennet and Carr end up showing a lot of aptitude for comedy. The bickering between Neill and Alyn is narratively problematic–even though there’s an indeterminate but at least a few months flashforward in chapter three, Neill and Alyn never act like they know each other any better than after they first meet. Four screenwriters and none of them can figure out how to write a scene for the two top-billed actors. Not even when Alyn’s Superman. Neill is passed out for nearly all of her rescues and only really gets to chitchat once. Before Alyn tells her to scoot off to her office. Because with the good guys, Alyn’s Superman is authoritative. With the bad guys he’s either vicious (which is at least interesting) or a complete goof. Alyn’s showdown with Forman is utterly anti-climatic. He’s grinning like a moron, she’s barely paying attention to him; not a great showdown.

And Forman’s been a lousy villain. Her grand plan isn’t even clear. She wants to extort money or maybe she doesn’t. In the first few chapters, Meeker and then Quigley tell her how wrong she is about everything and question all her orders. The scenes aren’t good but at least they have some energy. After Forman consolidates her power, things just get even more boring. Because then it’s just about waiting for things like raw materials for the reducer ray or just waiting for the ray’s battery to charge. And her underground lair, complete with an electrified spider web for unwanted visitors, is a boring set. Superman’s got a lot of boring sets, but Forman’s spider-cave is the worst. It might just be because the serial wastes so much time there.

Most of the acting is okay, without any of it being standout. Alyn, for instance, gets into a good groove as Clark Kent while Superman is getting less to do, but it doesn’t go anywhere. Same goes for Neill. She’s better than anyone else–except maybe Watkin, who’s awesome–but she’s still not able to get any momentum out of the role. The script doesn’t do character development. The best it does for the actors is one-off scenes; there’s one scene of screwball for Neill and Alyn and it’s great. There’s one scene of dread for Neill, as a reporter, and it’s great. The actors make the scenes happen–though the directors get both those examples too–but they’re just filler.

Bond is all right for a while but gets tiring. Towards the end he gets to be the crusading reporter–including threatening poor Mexican immigrants (Metropolis in this Superman, incidentally, is L.A.) and flying the Daily Planet airplane. He bosses Neill around, dives headfirst into dangerous situations, gets his ass kicked time and again. He was a lot more likable as Neill’s sidekick.

Forman’s not good, but she’s a lot worse at the start than by the end. Same goes for Quigley. Meeker’s pretty steady. So’s Rawlinson. Frank Lackteen is pretty good as Neill’s stoolie who dumps her to be Alyn’s stoolie. It’s more poorly written than weird, kind of like they wanted to have two characters but didn’t.

Technically, Superman’s fairly unimpressive. The cartoon flying Superman is never embraced. The set pieces rarely involve any superpowers. Sometimes super-strength. But the superpowers are usually only for when Alyn’s in the tights, meaning Clark Kent is played as a regular boring guy. Including when Alyn gets beat up by the goons while trying to save Neill. Why didn’t he change into his tights? Why didn’t he just beat up the bad guys while in his suit? Just another of Superman’s many logic mysteries.

Earl Turner’s editing is awful. Ira H. Morgan’s photography is fine. It’s either the same interiors (Superman reuses office sets a lot) or the same exteriors around the Columbia lot.

There’s clearly a lack of budget. There’s not much inventiveness to work within the constraints either.

Even with the always disappointing cliffhangers (and cliffhanger resolutions), the overemphasis on Forman and her goons, the utter lack of non-expository moments much less scenes, Superman almost gets through. For a while, the occasional Kirk Alyn Superman scenes payoff. For a while, it seems like there might be something for Neill to do.

Then, after the drag of the final six chapters, Superman rushes to a disappointing finish. The serial doesn’t just not make up for its losses, it goes out on bigger ones. Futzing the showdown with Forman should be the last straw, but somehow the screenwriters manage to make it even worse with a peculiar, “comedic” end tag. Directors Bennet and Carr, regardless of previous comedy prowess, do nothing to save it. Because it’s lost. But it’s also finally over.

Superman (1948) ch15 – The Payoff

The Payoff presumably refers to this chapter being the finale of Superman. There’s not much payoff otherwise. Spider Lady Carol Forman isn’t out to blackmail the city, she’s out to cause destruction. She’s given the Daily Planet four hours until she destroys it.

She’s has to give them four hours because the machine isn’t ready yet.

The chapter opens with Superman Kirk Alyn saving Noel Neill and her being conscious long enough to thank him. He’s let at least two people die in order to save her. After he tells her to get back to work, he cartoon flies into the building and changes outfits.

The chapter reuses a lot of Superman flying, Kirk Alyn changing clothes footage. It reuses some of it at least twice because as Neill, Tommy Bond, and Pierre Watkin try to figure out the Spider Lady’s plan, Alyn is popping in and out as Superman or Clark Kent.

The showdown between Forman and Alyn is about as impressive as one would expect for Superman, meaning not impressive at all.

The chapter ends on an odd note–a weak, mean joke. Certainly not a payoff moment.

There is, however, the best thing in the serial in terms of character development in this chapter. Neill starts writing an article about experiencing her impending doom. It’s about the only sincere thing in the serial’s fifteen chapters.