Tag: Smiley Burnette

Dick Tracy (1937, Ray Taylor and Alan James), Chapter 11: Harbor Pursuit

Harbor Pursuit starts and finishes in the harbor. For some reason, crackerjack G-Man Ralph Byrd never pieces together the harbor might be a base of operations of the Spider Gang. Just one of the many obvious connections Byrd’s been missing since chapter one.

Or two. Byrd at least seems competent in the first chapter.

After an incredibly lazy–even for Dick Tracy–cliffhanger resolution, there’s a newspaper headline about a missing government engraver. The engraver’s been gone a week, without the FBI concerned. The Spider Gang has had him the whole time, presumably tied up in the same chair; again, whatever.

Byrd’s sidekicks stumble upon a coded communication thanks to resident idiot Smiley Burnette going on the radio to give an address warning about crime. It doesn’t go well, but is apparently supposed to be hilarious. Screenwriters Barry Shipman and Winston Miller are shockingly bad when it comes to humor. The radio announcer who looks mortified at Burnette’s performance (in character, on the radio) is probably the best performance in the whole serial.

Then it’s back to the harbor for an almost decent boat chase. The shots of the actual boats in the harbor–never together–are good. The composite shots with the rear screen projection are godawful.

It might just be Tracy’s imminent conclusion–only four more to go–but Harbor passes smoother than most of the serial’s bad chapters have done. There’s nothing to distinguish it, though–as always–Carleton Young and Fred Hamilton are the ones who give the best performances. They just don’t have anything to do.

Also eye-rolling is how Byrd can’t manage to beat up a single dock worker but can easily best a (presumably experienced) thug.

CREDITS

Directed by Ray Taylor and Alan James; screenplay by Barry Shipman and Winston Miller, based on a story by Morgan Cox and George Morgan and the comic strip by Chester Gould; directors of photography, Edgar Lyons and William Nobles; edited by Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney; produced by Nat Levine; released by Republic Pictures.

Starring Ralph Byrd (Dick Tracy), Kay Hughes (Gwen Andrews), Smiley Burnette (Mike McGurk), Lee Van Atta (Junior), John Picorri (Moloch), Carleton Young (Gordon), Fred Hamilton (Steve Lockwood), Francis X. Bushman (Chief Clive Anderson), Wedgwood Nowell (H.T. Clayton), Louis Morrell (Walter Potter), Edwin Stanley (Walter Odette), Ann Ainslee (Betty Clayton), and Milburn Morante (Death Valley Johnny).

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Dick Tracy (1937, Ray Taylor and Alan James), Chapter 10: The Gold Ship

The Gold Ship is the tenth chapter of Dick Tracy. It’s the first chapter where Ralph Byrd even entertains the notion his brother might still be alive, even though brainwashed and surgically disguised brother Carleton Young has been running afoul of Byrd since the second chapter.

Young just hasn’t said anything. Even though the big mystery villain said the reason for surgically altering him and brainwashing him was to hurt Byrd.

But that plot point goes away real quick when the action gets underway. Byrd goes out to a ship to investigate an apparent gold robbery. He becomes suspicious of some of the crew, who prove to be villains; a lengthy fistfight ensues.

Gold Ship has some good sets and good action set pieces. The cliffhanger’s undoubtedly going to have a weak resolution, but the fistfight until then is pretty good. It’s not great–the fight choreography is extremely wanting–but it’s pretty good. It’s exciting and feels dangerous, something Tracy has rarely managed lately.

Idiot sidekick Smiley Burnette, who Byrd intentionally brings along as backup to investigate the ship, turns out to be no help because he gets himself tied up in knots. Literally. If directors James and Taylor could do comedy, even with Burnette flopping on every beat, it would help. They cannot. All of Tracy’s okay scenes seem accidentally competent.

Except the miniature effects. They’re actually good.

The chapter’s not a recovery for the serial, but it’s effective on its own.

CREDITS

Directed by Ray Taylor and Alan James; screenplay by Barry Shipman and Winston Miller, based on a story by Morgan Cox and George Morgan and the comic strip by Chester Gould; directors of photography, Edgar Lyons and William Nobles; edited by Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney; produced by Nat Levine; released by Republic Pictures.

Starring Ralph Byrd (Dick Tracy), Kay Hughes (Gwen Andrews), Smiley Burnette (Mike McGurk), Lee Van Atta (Junior), John Picorri (Moloch), Carleton Young (Gordon), Fred Hamilton (Steve Lockwood), Francis X. Bushman (Chief Clive Anderson), Wedgwood Nowell (H.T. Clayton), Louis Morrell (Walter Potter), Edwin Stanley (Walter Odette), Ann Ainslee (Betty Clayton), and Milburn Morante (Death Valley Johnny).

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Dick Tracy (1937, Ray Taylor and Alan James), Chapter 9: The Stratosphere Adventure

The Stratosphere Adventure isn’t much of an adventure, but it is a fairly interesting chapter. The entire chapter takes place right after the cliffhanger resolve. A cop-out cliffhanger resolve, where federal agent Ralph Byrd puts his own safety before civilian Wedgwood Nowell (big surprise), but still–it’s continuous action, something the serial hasn’t done.

There’s also very little Kay Hughes (though her introduction title card makes her sound like a double agent–she’s not), Smiley Burnette, or Lee Van Atta, which is quite the boon at this point.

After surviving a plane crash, Byrd gets on to the enemy aircraft–the Wing–where his brainwashed, plastic surgery altered brother Carleton Young doesn’t recognize him in disguise. Byrd doesn’t do anything to disguise his voice and he’s just wearing the goggles on a flight suit. Whatever.

Byrd then gets over to the foreign agents’ dirigible. He’s got to stop them from getting the super-fast airplane motor. He’d be able to stop them too, if he could successfully tie up a bad guy. But Byrd can’t and the bad guys turn the table on him, just as Fred Hamilton shoots out the dirigible (not knowing Byrd’s aboard).

Not an exciting chapter. Byrd’s too boring to be exasperating but, come on, he can’t tie someone up? Really? And the FBI’s San Francisco office doesn’t have a more powerful radio than Byrd’s home–where Hughes, Burnette, and Van Atta are congregating (thankfully off-screen most of the chapter).

The miniature aircraft effects are outstanding. And the pacing is sort of cool, one chapter through the next to finish up this particular plot line. It’s not a recovery, but it’s certainly nowhere near as bad as Dick Tracy has been lately.

CREDITS

Directed by Ray Taylor and Alan James; screenplay by Barry Shipman and Winston Miller, based on a story by Morgan Cox and George Morgan and the comic strip by Chester Gould; directors of photography, Edgar Lyons and William Nobles; edited by Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney; produced by Nat Levine; released by Republic Pictures.

Starring Ralph Byrd (Dick Tracy), Kay Hughes (Gwen Andrews), Smiley Burnette (Mike McGurk), Lee Van Atta (Junior), John Picorri (Moloch), Carleton Young (Gordon), Fred Hamilton (Steve Lockwood), Francis X. Bushman (Chief Clive Anderson), Wedgwood Nowell (H.T. Clayton), Louis Morrell (Walter Potter), Edwin Stanley (Walter Odette), Ann Ainslee (Betty Clayton), and Milburn Morante (Death Valley Johnny).

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Dick Tracy (1937, Ray Taylor and Alan James), Chapter 8: Battle in the Clouds

Nowhere near as many wipes this chapter, but that lack doesn’t really help things. The cliffhanger resolve is another reveal one; turns out it wasn’t the bad guys shooting those guns off-screen, it was the good guys. So there wasn’t really a cliffhanger at all.

Like always. It’s never a cliffhanger in Dick Tracy and Ralph Byrd is never in danger. Except he can be sucker-punched. Even though he can literally fend off five thugs in a fist fight, Byrd goes down for the count with a single sucker punch. Byrd also doesn’t pay attention to people warning him about incoming sucker punches either.

This chapter once again brings in the two old white guys (one credited–Edwin Stanley–and one not–Louis Morrell) to remind the viewer Byrd still hasn’t found out anything about his missing brother. The missing brother has actually been brainwashed and given plastic surgery to become villain Carleton Young. That situation hasn’t changed since the first chapter. There also haven’t been any developments on it. No idea why anyone thought the expository old white men were necessary.

But most of the story has to do with (also uncredited) Ann Ainslee and her (credited) father, Wedgwood Nowell. He designs fast airplanes, she test pilots them. The Spider Gang wants the plans to the latest project. Not for themselves, but for a foreign power. It’s up to Byrd to protect the plans.

He almost succeeds, but it turns out sidekick Smiley Burnette is actually so stupid he can’t relay a message to Fred Hamilton and the bad guys get away. The latest example of Burnette’s abject stupidity comes after he says Ainslee can’t fly planes because she’s a woman. Not to her face, just behind statically smiling Kay Hughes.

Even Lee Van Atta has started picking on Burnette for being an idiot.

Without any action to distinguish Battle in the Clouds–the battle is the bad guys shooting shotguns out their aircraft’s gun portals at the super-plane–it’s a particularly trying chapter.

At least the wipes are back to a tolerable level and there aren’t crappy inserts. But it’s clearly going to be a long seven chapters to the finish.

CREDITS

Directed by Ray Taylor and Alan James; screenplay by Barry Shipman and Winston Miller, based on a story by Morgan Cox and George Morgan and the comic strip by Chester Gould; directors of photography, Edgar Lyons and William Nobles; edited by Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney; produced by Nat Levine; released by Republic Pictures.

Starring Ralph Byrd (Dick Tracy), Kay Hughes (Gwen Andrews), Smiley Burnette (Mike McGurk), Lee Van Atta (Junior), John Picorri (Moloch), Carleton Young (Gordon), Fred Hamilton (Steve Lockwood), Francis X. Bushman (Chief Clive Anderson), Wedgwood Nowell (H.T. Clayton), Louis Morrell (Walter Potter), Edwin Stanley (Walter Odette), Ann Ainslee (Betty Clayton), and Milburn Morante (Death Valley Johnny).

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Dick Tracy (1937) ch07 – The Ghost Town Mystery

The Ghost Town Mystery has a lot of wipes. Half wipes, quartering wipes, circular wipes. Wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe. I swear there haven’t been this many wipes in the serial until now. There’s also some terrible insert shots of lead Ralph Byrd when he’s listening to someone. Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney’s editing hasn’t been stellar or anything up to this chapter, but it’s real bad here.

Especially once they get to the ghost town and have a shootout. Directors James and Taylor utterly bungle it.

There’s also some serial standards, like Byrd coming across the next clue right as the cliffhanger resolves. Good thing the bad guys dropped a newspaper folded to the ghost town. It’s not a ghost town, actually, it’s a gold mine claim. The owner’s Milburn Morante. He’s an eccentric Western hick, mixing various stereotypes in a bad performance.

Really, only Carleton Young, John Picorri, and Fred Hamilton don’t cause uncomfortable squirming as they try to get through their scenes. Byrd’s somehow getting worse–having young ward Lee Van Atta around isn’t helping things and it’s impossible to take Byrd too seriously when he’s got moron Smiley Burnette on the payroll.

There’s a great hold-up sequence with Young, which actually had me hopeful for the chapter, wipes and all. It doesn’t go anywhere. The ghost town section is a misfire. It starts with Hamilton getting shot in the face (thankfully he doesn’t die, because getting shot in the face barely hurts in Dick Tracy).

Mystery also has some of Kay Hughes’s worst acting so far, which is an achievement all it’s own. It’s impossible to disparage her too much just because she so clearly should never have been cast; it’s the serial’s fault; it embarrasses her.

Dick Tracy seems to have turned a very bad corner.

Dick Tracy (1937, Ray Taylor and Alan James), Chapter 7: The Ghost Town Mystery

The Ghost Town Mystery has a lot of wipes. Half wipes, quartering wipes, circular wipes. Wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe. I swear there haven’t been this many wipes in the serial until now. There’s also some terrible insert shots of lead Ralph Byrd when he’s listening to someone. Edward Todd,
Helene Turner, and William Witney’s editing hasn’t been stellar or anything up to this chapter, but it’s real bad here.

Especially once they get to the ghost town and have a shootout. Directors James and Taylor utterly bungle it.

There’s also some serial standards, like Byrd coming across the next clue right as the cliffhanger resolves. Good thing the bad guys dropped a newspaper folded to the ghost town. It’s not a ghost town, actually, it’s a gold mine claim. The owner’s Milburn Morante. He’s an eccentric Western hick, mixing various stereotypes in a bad performance.

Really, only Carleton Young, John Picorri, and Fred Hamilton don’t cause uncomfortable squirming as they try to get through their scenes. Byrd’s somehow getting worse–having young ward Lee Van Atta around isn’t helping things and it’s impossible to take Byrd too seriously when he’s got moron Smiley Burnette on the payroll.

There’s a great hold-up sequence with Young, which actually had me hopeful for the chapter, wipes and all. It doesn’t go anywhere. The ghost town section is a misfire. It starts with Hamilton getting shot in the face (thankfully he doesn’t die, because getting shot in the face barely hurts in Dick Tracy).

Mystery also has some of Kay Hughes’s worst acting so far, which is an achievement all it’s own. It’s impossible to disparage her too much just because she so clearly should never have been cast; it’s the serial’s fault; it embarrasses her.

Dick Tracy seems to have turned a very bad corner.

CREDITS

Directed by Ray Taylor and Alan James; screenplay by Barry Shipman and Winston Miller, based on a story by Morgan Cox and George Morgan and the comic strip by Chester Gould; directors of photography, Edgar Lyons and William Nobles; edited by Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney; produced by Nat Levine; released by Republic Pictures.

Starring Ralph Byrd (Dick Tracy), Kay Hughes (Gwen Andrews), Smiley Burnette (Mike McGurk), Lee Van Atta (Junior), John Picorri (Moloch), Carleton Young (Gordon), Fred Hamilton (Steve Lockwood), Francis X. Bushman (Chief Clive Anderson), Wedgwood Nowell (H.T. Clayton), Louis Morrell (Walter Potter), Edwin Stanley (Walter Odette), Ann Ainslee (Betty Clayton), and Milburn Morante (Death Valley Johnny).

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Dick Tracy (1937, Ray Taylor and Alan James), Chapter 6: Dangerous Waters

Dangerous Waters opens with an unbelievable cliffhanger resolve. Not unbelievably good, unbelievably cheap. I can’t imagine what made me think they wouldn’t go unbelievably cheap. I was clearly giving Dick Tracy too much credit.

After the resolve, the chapter’s back to “formula.” It’s even about a missing scientific formula. Thanks to Kay Hughes reading the newspaper, Ralph Byrd’s able to predict the Spider Gang going after a scientist. So the whole Tracy crew–including nitwit Smiley Burnette, annoying kid Lee Van Atta, and “does all the real work” Fred Hamilton–pile into a car and drive down to the science building.

But they’re too late.

So it’s off to a waterfront bar to try to stop Carleton Young–who seems to know he’s in a bad situation participating in this serial–from selling the formula to a foreign agent.

There’s a lengthy, boring fistfight. It’s kind of funny when Byrd throws something at one of his opponents. Like a shoe. It seems ad-libbed. More ad-libbing might’ve helped.

Byrd and Burnette assault a bunch of guys eating lunch–they never identify themselves as law enforcement and have no probable cause. It is before Miranda, I suppose.

Not a good chapter. Not a lot of godawful acting–though Hughes’s so amateurishly bad she’s sympathetic–and John Picorri’s cat makes another appearance, but it’s still pretty weak stuff.

CREDITS

Directed by Ray Taylor and Alan James; screenplay by Barry Shipman and Winston Miller, based on a story by Morgan Cox and George Morgan and the comic strip by Chester Gould; directors of photography, Edgar Lyons and William Nobles; edited by Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney; produced by Nat Levine; released by Republic Pictures.

Starring Ralph Byrd (Dick Tracy), Kay Hughes (Gwen Andrews), Smiley Burnette (Mike McGurk), Lee Van Atta (Junior), John Picorri (Moloch), Carleton Young (Gordon), Fred Hamilton (Steve Lockwood), Francis X. Bushman (Chief Clive Anderson), Wedgwood Nowell (H.T. Clayton), Louis Morrell (Walter Potter), Edwin Stanley (Walter Odette), Ann Ainslee (Betty Clayton), and Milburn Morante (Death Valley Johnny).

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Dick Tracy (1937, Ray Taylor and Alan James), Chapter 5: Brother Against Brother

There’s no great action in Brother Against Brother. There’s what might be a real cliffhanger–Ralph Byrd shot (figure it’s safe to spoil since Byrd’s the lead and it’s chapter five of fifteen). I guess there’s some good effects at the beginning with some of the plane stuff. It doesn’t figure in much to the rest of the chapter, which has Byrd planting a necklace in a plane crash hoping to infiltrate the Spider Gang’s “hangout.”

Byrd and Dick Tracy are down with the hip lingo.

Meanwhile, most of the supporting cast is looking to rescue Byrd. Fred Hamilton has Lee Van Atta, who’s getting more annoying the more he has to do, while Kay Hughes is babysitting Smiley Burnette. The scenes with Hughes and Burnette are really, really rough. She’s amateurishly bad and he’s truly godawful.

Speaking of godawful, on the way to the Spider Gang’s hangout–a big house the dialogue explains to be a closed motel, which doesn’t track given the interiors or exteriors of the pad, but whatever–on the way Byrd hopes in the back of a passing jalopy. Who should be driving but Ed ‘Oscar’ Platt and Lou Fulton; they’re apparently the hillbilly comedy duo, “Oscar and Elmer.”

They’re godawful too.

Luckily they don’t have any scenes with Burnette.

The finale is a shootout around the house, with stuntmen climbing around the exterior. Editors Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney don’t do well with shootouts. All the good cutting (from the effects sequences) is missing.

It’s not a predictable chapter. It’s not an exciting chapter. But at least it’s not a repetitive one.

CREDITS

Directed by Ray Taylor and Alan James; screenplay by Barry Shipman and Winston Miller, based on a story by Morgan Cox and George Morgan and the comic strip by Chester Gould; directors of photography, Edgar Lyons and William Nobles; edited by Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney; produced by Nat Levine; released by Republic Pictures.

Starring Ralph Byrd (Dick Tracy), Kay Hughes (Gwen Andrews), Smiley Burnette (Mike McGurk), Lee Van Atta (Junior), John Picorri (Moloch), Carleton Young (Gordon), Fred Hamilton (Steve Lockwood), Francis X. Bushman (Chief Clive Anderson), Wedgwood Nowell (H.T. Clayton), Louis Morrell (Walter Potter), Edwin Stanley (Walter Odette), Ann Ainslee (Betty Clayton), and Milburn Morante (Death Valley Johnny).

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Dick Tracy (1937, Ray Taylor and Alan James), Chapter 4: Death Rides the Sky

Death Rides the Sky does not follow the concerning pattern of the previous two chapters where information falls into Ralph Byrd’s lap and he ignores it only to discover it’s of vital importance.

In Rides, he knows the information of vital importance right off. Cuts down on later confusion.

The chapter opens with a predictably disappointing cliffhanger resolution. Not so much predictable in how it plays out–like, is Byrd ever supposed to be in any real danger–but predictable in being disappointing. There is some of the best direction in the serial during the resolution, however.

After a brief interlude back at Tracy Manor, where old white guys in matching gray suits (with matching pocket squares) show up to ask Byrd for a recap of the previous chapter. That exposition–and a predictably weak comedy sequence with Smiley Burnette and Lee Van Atta–are the last things before Death Rides the Sky goes airborne.

Once it does, the chapter’s pretty awesome. Byrd and sidekick Fred Hamilton (who’s better than I’ve been giving him credit for) have to intercept a dirigible to stop a jewel theft. So they dock in their biplane. The thief’s escape–by parachute–turns into a great chase sequence.

Lots of plane effects, lots of miniatures, all of the effects excellent. It’s a little silly when the bad guys shoot rifles out of their futuristic “Wing” aircraft but whatever.

The action keeps up from the middle to the end of Rides. Not even the return of Burnette and Van Atta can hurt it. Van Atta’s dopey kid behavior causes the cliffhanger, which I hope isn’t a frequent occurrence.

But, yeah, give Dick Tracy some achievable action to visualize and it’s spot on.

CREDITS

Directed by Ray Taylor and Alan James; screenplay by Barry Shipman and Winston Miller, based on a story by Morgan Cox and George Morgan and the comic strip by Chester Gould; directors of photography, Edgar Lyons and William Nobles; edited by Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney; produced by Nat Levine; released by Republic Pictures.

Starring Ralph Byrd (Dick Tracy), Kay Hughes (Gwen Andrews), Smiley Burnette (Mike McGurk), Lee Van Atta (Junior), John Picorri (Moloch), Carleton Young (Gordon), Fred Hamilton (Steve Lockwood), Francis X. Bushman (Chief Clive Anderson), Wedgwood Nowell (H.T. Clayton), Louis Morrell (Walter Potter), Edwin Stanley (Walter Odette), Ann Ainslee (Betty Clayton), and Milburn Morante (Death Valley Johnny).

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Dick Tracy (1937, Ray Taylor and Alan James), Chapter 3: The Fur Pirates

With The Fur Pirates, Dick Tracy starts to show some problems; outside the obvious acting ones considering the supporting cast. There’s another fast cliffhanger resolve, with the disaster not being anywhere near as dangerous as originally suggested. After that resolution, there’s some decent special effects–miniature–of the bad guy’s Wing aircraft taking off.

Then the chapter hits the skids. With no investigative leads, Ralph Byrd heads home to hang out with the supporting cast. Smiley Burnette is once again terrible, Kay Hughes is once again underwhelming, Lee Van Atta is once again cloying. Oh, there’s some stuff with the villains, but the most amusing part of a serial chapter shouldn’t be John Picorri’s cat wanting to be let down.

Just like last time, someone gives Byrd a tip he dismisses. Just like last time, it turns out to be important. There’s a ship in the harbor and it’s got a million dollars worth of furs on it. What if someone rips them off?

Better, what if it turns out the Spider Gang is going to rip them off.

There’s some action at the end and it’s not badly conceived, just executed. There’s no way to do a small boat crushed between two big ships with stock footage and second unit stuff. Not without miniatures.

With no solid action in the cliffhanger lead-up, Pirates doesn’t have anything to keep it going. The story isn’t compelling and, while he’s more affable than anyone else, it’s not like Byrd can keep the energy up.

Hopefully something happens next chapter. It’s early for the serial to be in a formulaic rut.

CREDITS

Directed by Ray Taylor and Alan James; screenplay by Barry Shipman and Winston Miller, based on a story by Morgan Cox and George Morgan and the comic strip by Chester Gould; directors of photography, Edgar Lyons and William Nobles; edited by Edward Todd, Helene Turner, and William Witney; produced by Nat Levine; released by Republic Pictures.

Starring Ralph Byrd (Dick Tracy), Kay Hughes (Gwen Andrews), Smiley Burnette (Mike McGurk), Lee Van Atta (Junior), John Picorri (Moloch), Carleton Young (Gordon), Fred Hamilton (Steve Lockwood), Francis X. Bushman (Chief Clive Anderson), Wedgwood Nowell (H.T. Clayton), Louis Morrell (Walter Potter), Edwin Stanley (Walter Odette), Ann Ainslee (Betty Clayton), and Milburn Morante (Death Valley Johnny).

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