Harrison's Reports (1948)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

May 8, 1948 HARRISON'S REPORTS 75 "Silver River" with Ann Sheridan, Errol Flynn and Thomas Mitchell (Warner Bros., May 29; time, 106 min.) Although it is a "big" picture from the viewpoint of production and star value, this Western saga of the rise and fall of an empire builder, and of the struggle between mining interests for control of the silver market, is a spotty entertainment. To begin with, it is overlong and, though it opens on a high melodramatic note, giving promise of being a brisk action movie, the story goes astray, slowing down the action and leaving too many lapses between the exciting events. Moreover it atempts, but barely succeeds, to build sympathy for a hero whose actions are both ruthless and far from edifying. As a matter of fact, the episodic manner in which the story is presented somehow makes the hero's rise and fall, and even his romance with the heroine, never seem believable. Despite its faults, however, the picture has enough rousing action and usual Western ingredients to assure it of a fairly good reception by most audiences: — Cashiered out of the Union Army for burning money that would have fallen into Confederate hands, Errol Flynn, embittered, determines to live by his own rules. He begins by taking over, in a high-handed manner, the equipment of a crooked gambling tent operated by Barton MacLane. He takes the equipment to Silver City, Nevada, where he opens a gaudy gambling establishment. Shortly thereafter, he becomes a one-third partner in a silver mine owned by Bruce Bennett in exchange for his financial help, an arrangement made over the objections of Ann Sheridan, Bennett's wife. Flynn's gambling joint soon drains off the miners' cash, compelling the mine owners to pay their employees with paper promises. Taking advantage of the miners' dissatisfaction, Flynn compels the owners to cut him in on all their properties in exchange for his guarantee to open a bank that would honor their paper promises with cash. Meanwhile he falls in love with Ann and indirectly sends her husband to his death by sending him to look over new silver veins in a territory controlled by hostile Indians. Thomas Mitchell, Flynn's lawyer and close friend, breaks with him after accusing him of sending Bennett to certain death so that he might have Ann for himself. Continuing his ruthless ways, Flynn soon becomes the wealthiest and most powerful man in the territory. Ann, after a long period of mourning, marries him. Flynn's troubles begin when the enemies he had created form a combine and set out to wreck him. They precipitate a run on his bank and, before long, strip him of everything he owns. In the meantime he had lost the companionship of both Ann and Mitchell because of his refusal to heed their pleas that he stop resisting the combine in order to help the impoverished miners. The cold-blooded killing of Mitchell by a gang of the combine's hoodlums brings Flynn to his senses. He becomes reconciled with Ann and vows to transfer his concern from himself to his fellow-men. Owen Crump produced it and Raoul Walsh directed it from a screen play by Harriet Frank, Jr. and Stephen Longstreet, based on the latter's novel. Adult fare. "Dream Girl" with Betty Hutton and Macdonald Carey (Paramount, July 23; time, 85 min.) Adapted from the Elmer Rice stage play of the same name, "Dream Girl" shapes up as no more than a mildly amusing comedy that provokes laughs in several spots but waxes tedious throughout most of its footage. Its story revolves around a young girl given to day-dreams, which to her are far more real than what she considers to be her humdrum, ordinary life. Briefly, the girl, played by Betty Hutton, is depicted as a would-be authoress with a secret yen for Patric Knowles, her sister's husband, until she meets Mac donald Carey, a brash young newspaperman, who pursues her despite her efforts to shake him off with an assumed air of sophistication. How she plans to flee with her brotherin-law when that worthy decides to divorce her sister, and how Carey, aware of the fact that she took refuge in a world of fantasy, saves her from the entanglement and marries her himself, make up the rest of the story. The picture is at its best in its depiction of Miss Hutton's day-dreams, which arc brought about by different happen ings in her daily life. These sequences includes Knowles' desire to take her for his bride at the moment of his marriage to her sister; imagining herself as a fallen woman singing in a cheap cafe, where she commits suicide; picturing herself scoring a huge success as an opera singer when she is called upon to substitute for the star; fancying herself involved in a scandal with another woman's husband; and imagining herself married to her sister's divorced husband and coming to a tragic end in a backwoods cabin. These hallucinations are good for many chuckles, but when the story deals with the heroine's real life it becomes labored and contrived, and teeters between static stretches of dialogue and forced comedy. The performances are generally good, with Miss Hutton at her best in the day-dreams; her real-life characterization has a naiveness that is a bit hard to take. The story idea draws comparison with "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty," but the entertainment values are not as rewarding as in that film. P. J. Wolfson produced it and Mitchell Leisen directed it. No screen play credit is given. The cast includes Virginia Field, Walter Abel, Peggy Wood and others. Unobjectionable morally. "The Emperor Waltz" with Bing Crosby and Joan Fontaine (Paramount, July 2; time, 106 min.) Very good mass entertainment. Set in Vienna in 1901, it is an elegantly mounted romantic comedy in Technicolor, revolving around the adventures of an American phonograph salesman and his romance with a Viennese countess. The story itself is a rather familiar version of the "commonerfalls-in-love-with-royalty" theme, but it has been endowed with many delightfully humorous touches that keep one chuckling throughout, and at times roaring with laughter. What is particularly comical is the way in which the romance is brought about by the hero's mongrel dog and the countess' pedigreed poodle, whose own romance parallels the difficulties encountered by their master and mistress. As the salesman, Bing Crosby is cast in a tailor-made role that fits his personality like a glove. Whether he sings, romances, or makes flip wisecracks, he goes through his acting chores with a naturalness that is at all times ingratiating. As the classconscious countess, Joan Fontaine is not only beautiful but extremely good in her handling of a light comedy role. Together, Crosby and Miss Fontaine make a grand team, and their romance, which is developed in a gay manner, culminates to the satisfaction of the audience: — While unsuccessfully seeking an interview with Emperor Franz Josef (Richard Haydn) for the purpose of selling him a phonograph, Crosby encounters Joan when their dogs get into a fight. By special arrangement with the Emperor, Joan's pedigreed poodle was to be mated with the Emperor's prize dog, but the poodle, smitten with Crosby's mongrel dog, has a nervous breakdown. Sig Ruman, a psychiatric veterinarian, suggests to Joan that she take the poodle to see Crosby's dog again. She does this and, in the process, succumbs to Crosby's charm. They fall in love but, because of their different stations in life, Joan informs him that he will require the Emperor's permission to marry her. She arranges an audience with the Emperor, who convinces Crosby that he cannot support Joan in her accustomed style, and persuades him to break away from her. In appreciation for his understanding, the Emperor endorses the phonograph. To make the break complete, Crosby allows Joan to believe that he had used her love for commercial gain. But before departing for home, Crosby crashes the Emperor's ball to tell Joan the truth. That same evening Joan's poodle gives birth to three pups, which prove to have been fathered by Crosby's dog. Fearing the Emperor's wrath, Joan's impoverished father (Roland Culver) orders the pups destroyed. Crosby learns of the plan, manages to retrieve the pups and, with the palace guards at his heels, crashes into the ballroom to give the Emperor a piece of his mind, during which he reveals to Joan why he had left her. Recognizing their true love, the Emperor grants them permission to wed on condition that the pups be given to him. Charles Brackctt produced it and Billy Wilder directed it from their own original screen play. Suitable for the entire family.