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158
HARRISON'S REPORTS
October 5, 1946
"Blue Skies" with Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire and Joan Caulfield
(Paramount, Dec. 27; time, 104 min.)
Combining Bing Crosby's singing, Fred Astaire's dancing, and Irving Berlin's music, "Blue Skies" emerges as a highly entertaining Tcchnciolor musical with definite mass appeal, for it is gay and romantic. Even though the story is extremely thin, it serves as a means of introducing a succession of Berlin's melodious song hits, most of which are old time favorites. The picture follows the "Holiday Inn" formula, with Crosby, as a singer and night-club owner, and Astaire, as a dancer, vying for the affections of the same girl. It has a good share of romance and comedy, and all the leading characters are sympathetic. Of the many musical highlights, the outstanding one is the "Puttin" On the Ritz" production number, in which Astaire, aided by trick photography, does a breath-taking dance routine in his matchless style. Joan Caulfield, as the girl whose charms provide the love interest, is appealing. Olga San Juan, a newcomer, has a pleasant singing style, and Billy De Wolfe, as Crosby's assistant, adds much to the gaiety by his antics. One sequence, in which he impersonates a timid, middle-aged woman, who stops at a cocktail bar to celebrate her wedding anniversary, is hilarious. The production end is superb.
The story, which unfolds in flashback fashion, opens with Astaire, a radio commentator, broadcasting a true story to his audience and expressing the hope that it would have a happy ending that evening. He relates that, following World War 1, at which time he had been a Broadway dancing star, he had fallen in love with Joan Caulfield, a chorus girl. He had introduced Joan to Crosby, his friend, who had captivated her with his charming personality. Both had fallen in love but because of Crosby's restlessness, his desire to acquire night-clubs and to sell them as soon as he tired of them, he had declined to marry her lest he make her a poor husband. He and Joan had parted, but their love for each other had been so strong that they decided to get married. Crosby had promised to settle down, but he soon succumbed to his restlessness and, together with Joan, moved from city to city opening and selling night-clubs. Shortly after their baby had been born, Joan had insisted that Crosby settle down for good with his newest and most successful cafe, but his refusal had led to a quarrel, ending in their divorce. Joan had returned to her stage career and, after five years, had decided to marry Astaire, who was still in love with her. On the eve of their marriage, however, Joan had confessed her inability to go through with the wedding because of her love for Crosby. Astaire, dejected, had taken to drink and, during a sensational dance routine on a high platform, had fallen to the stage, putting an end to his dancing career. As Astaire finishes his broadcast, and as Crosby sings on the program as a guest star, Joan enters the studio and becomes reconciled with her former husband.
Arthur Sheekman wrote the screen play, Sol C. Siegel produced it, and Stuart Heisler directed it. Unobjectionable morally.
"The Dark Mirror" with Olivia de Havilland, Lew Ayres and Thomas Mitchell
( Universal-International; no release date set; time 85 min.)
A pretty good psychological murder-mystery melodrama, which, despite the incredibility of the plot, should please the followers of this type of pictures. The story, however, is somewhat unpleasant, for it deals with insanity and pits one sister against another, in this case identical twins. The mystery stems from the fact that the police establish that one of the sisters was involved in a murder but are compelled to release both of them because of their inability to prove which one was guilty. The manner in which the police, aided by a psychiatrist, unmask the guilty sister, makes up the rest of the plot. Olivia de Havilland, who plays both sisters, does fairly well, but not good enough to make one feel that each character was a separate and distinct personality. As a matter of fact, it is only through the use of initialed costume jewelry, which each sister wears, that the spectator is able to distinguish one from the other. It has some romantic interest, and a fair share of suspense and excitement. Thomas Mitchell, as a baffled detective, is very good. Much credit for the picture's quality is owed to the deft direction of Robert Siodmak : —
When a prominent physician is found stabbed to death, suspicion centers on Ruth Collins (Olivia de Havilland), who was seen leaving the dead man's apartment on the night of the slaying. The police, however, encounter an impasse when they learn that Ruth had an identical twin sister, Terry (also Miss de Havilland). Because one sister refused to incriminate the other, the police find it impossible to declare one of them guilty; both are set free. Determined to solve
the mystery, Detective Stevenson (Thomas Mitchell) enlists the aid of Dr. Scott Elliott (Lew Ayres), a psychiatrist who had made a life study of identical twins. Elliott, who knew the girls, persuades them to submit to a series of personality te6ts to aid him in his research work. As a result of the tests, Elliott comes to the conclusion that Terry was suffering from paranoia, a dangerous form of criminal insanity, and that she was extremely jealous of Ruth. Meanwhile Terry had been carrying on a subtle campaign to lead Ruth to believe that she was going out of her mind. Elliott, in love with Ruth, begins to fear for her safety. He decides to ask her to come to his office to tell her the truth about Terry. But his phone call is intercepted by Terry, who, impersonating Ruth, agrees to come to his office immediately. Aware that he had been speaking to Terry, Elliott, aided by Stevenson, sets a trap: They lead Terry to believe that Ruth had committed suicide. Confident that her scheme to drive Ruth out of her mind had succeeded, Terry, to clear herself of all suspicion, recounts the details of how Ruth had "murdered" the physician. But, when Ruth makes a sudden appearance, Terry realizes that she had been tricked into betraying herself. She becomes stark mad.
Based on an original story by Vladimir Pozner, the screen play was written and produced by Nunnally Johnson.
Adult entertainment.
"Undercurrent" with Katharine Hepburn, and Robert Taylor
(MGM, no release date set; time, 114 min.) An interesting psychological drama, well produced and superbly acted, but it is handicapped by a story that is not very convincing, and by direction that is somewhat spotty. Moreover, the picture is overlong. It may, however, do pretty good business on the strength of the leading players' popularity. Revolving around a young bride who finds reason to suspect her husband of dire doings in connection with his brother's mysterious disappearance, an undercurrent of suspense prevails throughout as she undertakes to learn the facts about her husband's past in order to clear up the mystery. Several of the situations are quite tense, and the action builds up to a violent climax, in which the husband tries to kill his wife, first by forcing her over a cliff, and, failing that, by attempting to bash her skull with a rock. She is saved when a horse stomps him to death. All this is wildly melodramatic and is more harrowing than exciting. Katharine Hepburn portrays the heroine with deep feeling and understanding; one respects her for her courage. Part of the story idea is unpleasant, for it pits a brother against a brother: —
Katharine, daughter of a scientist, marries Robert Taylor, a handsome, young industrialist, after a whirlwind courtship. Shortly after their marriage, she learns that Taylor had a brother (Robert Mitchum), who had disappeared mysteriously, and discovers that the mere mention of his name infuriated him. Taylor explains that his brother was a wastrel, one who had always taken advantage of him, and who had stolen his company's funds prior to his disappearance. In the course of events, Taylor's tantrums over matters concerning his brother, together with the reluctance of his associates to give her any information about the missing man, heightens Katharine's curiosity. In due time, different incidents lead her to suspect that Taylor might have murdered his brother and she becomes obsessed with a desire to get to the bottom of the mystery in order to disprove her suspicions and save her marriage. She eventually discovers evidence indicating that Mitchum was alive, leaving her happy in the thought that Taylor was in the clear. Meanwhile Mitchum, having learned of Katharine's unhappiness over his unexplained disappearance, visits Taylor secretly, charges him with the murder of an obscure scientist, whose invention he had stolen to gain fame and fortune, and insists that he tell Katharine the truth lest he do so himself. Taylor agrees, but maddened by the thought that Katharine would leave him if she knew the truth, and imagining that her search for Mitchum had caused her to fall in love with him, although she had never met him, he decides to kill her. His diabolical attempt to murder her is foiled by his own horse, a mistreated animal, who stomps him to death. It all ends with a meeting between Katharine and Mitchum, in which she arranges for Taylor's ill-gotten fortune to be returned to the murdered scientist's family, and in which it is indicated that the romance she failed to find with Taylor would be found with Mitchum.
Edward Chodorov wrote the screen play from a story by Thelma Strabel, Pandro S. Berman produced it, and Vinpunuipg sapnpui jsbd aqj^ -ji pajrojip i[]3uuija{ sjusd Gwenn, Marjorie Main, Jayne Meadows and others.
Adult entertainment.