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.

The Lottery (1969, Larry Yust)

The Lottery has a lot of mood. Isidore Mankofsky’s lucid but muted cinematography captures a routine day, not even special with an entire small town gathering in a large field. Director Yust has a few favorite touchstones among the townspeople, though only until the lottery itself starts. Then he concentrates on faces and expressions, as many as possible. Editor Albert Naples cuts quick between them, going faster the less expression the person shows.

Unfortunately, Naples’s editing is only sometimes effective. Yust’s direction of the cast–speaking or not–isn’t good. There are three main performances and only William ‘Billy’ Benedict is any good. Olive Dunbar has problematic writing and there’s only so much she can do at the end, when the “winner” is announced. William Fawcett is bad as the grumpy old man bemoaning young people and their lack of respect for the lottery.

Yust gives a handful of lines to various townspeople to try to show the routine of the events and their lives. He doesn’t give them actual conversations and cut into them, he just gives them lines. Then there’s the soundtrack, silent of background conversation or even breathing. Just the wind picking up. The silence should be effective–and would be if the acting were better or if Naples’s quick cutting built to anything. Maybe the silent background is so Yust could give the non-professionals direction? But if he did give them direction during those shots… well, it’s almost more concerning than if he didn’t.

The Lottery was made to be shown in classrooms (high school but probably younger–I think I saw it in middle) and Yust’s ideas for getting around the difficult parts don’t succeed. He’s too afraid to really characterize the gathered townspeople (and probably couldn’t direct them if their characterizations were better). The Lottery only exists for its eighteen minutes; Yust doesn’t imagine anything beyond it.

But Benedict’s real good.