Harrison's Reports (1948)

174 HARRISON'S REPORTS October 30, 1948 "Let's Live a Little" with Hedy Lamarr and Robert Cummings (Eagle-Lion, no release date set; time, 85 nun.) This is a breezy, "whacky" type oi comedyfarce, the sort that should go over pretty well with the rank and file, for it is filled with good gags and comedy situations, particularly in the first half. In the second half, however, the comedy situations are stretched too thin, causing the action to become somewhat draggy. Nevertheless, one is kept laughing throughout most of the ludicrous but gay 6tory, which revolves around the romantic misadventures of a high-strung advertising executive who becomes involved with two female clients, one a psychiatrist and the other the passionate head of a cosmetic firm. The comedy is subtle in the way it pokes fun at psychiatrists and at advertising people, but for the most part it is broad and exaggerated to the point of slapstick. Robert Cummings docs a very capable job as the advertising executive, putting over his comedy chores with a maximum of merriment. Hedy Lamarr lends the right amount of glamour as the psychiatrist, and Anna Sten is highly amusing as the amorous cosmetic firm proprietress: — Cummings, top account executive for an advertising agency, becomes a nervous wreck as the result of the stratagems employed by Anna, who held out for a resumption of their oncc-torrid romance as the price for signing a renewal of her one million dollar advertising account. Noticing Cummings' harried condition, his employer agrees to relieve him of Anna's account for a short time, and suggests that he start work on a promotion campaign for a new book written by Hedy Lamarr, a prominent psychiatrist. His meeting with Hedy ends in a consultation about his nervous condition, which she traces to Anna's refusal to renew the contract. She suggests that he try a new tactic with Anna — to take her to a night-club and shower her with affection. Hedy attends the club to observe his progress. When Anna meets her, she suspects that more than a physician-patient relationship existed between them. Furious, she starts a free-for-all fight from which Cummings emerges with his nerves completely shot. Hedy, deciding that he needs a complete rest, takes him to a rural retreat, where both fall in love, much to the dismay of Robert Shayne, Hedy's associate, who was in love with her himself. One day Cummings hears himself described by Hedy as a "guinea pig" in an experiment she had carried on. Incensed, he breaks with Hedy and resumes his association with Anna, who makes him agree to her marriage proposal before she signs the contract. This turn of events so upsets Hedy that she becomes a nervous wreck in much the same manner as Cummings had been. Shayne attempts to turn the situation to his advantage, but this only serves to rile Cummings and, after a series of madcap mixups, it all ends with Hedy in Cummings' arms, while Anna pairs up with Shayne. Eugene Frenke and Robert Cummings produced it and Richard Wallace directed it from an original screen play by Albert J. Cohen and Jack Harvey. The cast includes Mary Treen, Harry Antrim and others. Mature entertainment. "Ladies of the Chorus" with Adele Jergens and Marilyn Monroe (Columbia, no release date set; time, 59 min.) A minor but fairly entertaining comedy-drama with music, suitable as a program filler in double-billing situations. The story, which revolves around a socialite's acceptance of a chorus girl's marriage to her son, has been done many times, but this version is tolerable, for it has a pleasing romance, touches of human interest, some comedy, and several songs. The idea of having the heroine's mother dancing in the same chorus line with her daughter is rather absurd, but since the mother (Adele Jergens) is even more attractive than the daughter, the incongruity is not too hard to take. The direction and acting are passable: — Given an opportunity to replace the temperamental burlesque queen of her show, Marilyn Monroe, a chorus girl, becomes a sensation and is hailed as a new star. Her mother, Adele Jergens, a member of the chorus in the same theatre, keeps a careful watch on Marilyn to protect her from stage door "wolves." Rand Brooks, a wealthy young socialite, woos Marilyn and wins her love. He proposes marriage, but Adele rejects the idea because of her belief that his mother and friends would not accept a burlesque queen in their circle. She then explains that her own marriage had gone on the rocks for just such a reason. Brooks insists that his mother (Nana Bryant) will love Marilyn, and Adele finally consents to go to his Cleveland home with Marilyn upon his promise to tell his mother the truth about Marilyn's background before their arrival. Brooks, however, lacks the courage to speak to his mother, and later, at a party announcing their engagement, the orchestra leader recognizes Marilyn and inadvertently reveals that she is a burlesque queen. The horrified guests begin to whisper among themselves, but Brook's mother takes matters in hand and, by pretending that she herself was in the chorus as a young girl, she makes the guests realize that an actress can be socially acceptable. All present forget their snobbishness and crowd around Marilyn and Brooks to wish them happiness. Harry A. Romm produced it and Phil Karlson directed it from a screen play by Harry Sauber and Joseph Carole, based on Mr. Saubcr's story. The cast includes Eddie Garr, Steve Gcray, the Bobby True Trio and others. Unobjectionable morally. "The Strange Mrs. Crane" with Marjorie Lord and Robert Shayne (Eagle-Lion, no release date set; time, 60 min.) A mediocre program murder melodrama. There is little to recommend in it, for the story is extremely thin and unbelievable, and it drags through most of its unfolding, barely holding one's interest. Moreover, the main characters are unsympathetic. The action never strikes a realistic note, for the story resorts largely to coincidence to tie in the different events. The closing courtroom scene, where the heroine inadvertently reveals herself as the murderess, is so implausible that instead of being taken seriously by audiences it will probably cause them to laugh. The direction is ordinary, and the performances no more than adequate: — Married to Pierre Watkin, a candidate for the governorship, Marjorie Lord's past begins to catch up with her when she meets Robert Shayne, a former sweetheart, with whom she had been partners in a blackmail racket. Shayne had deserted her several years previously, when the authorities got on their trail. He convinces her that he was still in love with her, and she embarks on a clandestine affair with him. He soon reveals his true intentions, however, when he attempts to blackmail her to keep silent about her past. She breaks off the affair and threatens to kill him if he bothers her again. That evening, he sends a note to her home demanding that she visit him that night lest he tell her husband the whole story. Stuffing the note into the pocket of her coat, Marjorie hastens to Shayne's apartment, arriving there shortly aiter he had had a quarrel with Ruthe Brady, a model he had been courting. Infuriated by Shayne's demands, Marjorie stabs him to death. Ruthe is arrested for the killing when witnesses place her in Shayne's apartment on the night of the murder. By a grim quirk of fate, Marjorie becomes the forelady of the jury that tries Ruthe for her life, and when the jury retires to weigh the verdict she takes the lead in convincing the others of Ruthe's guilt. The jury reaches a unanimous verdict of murder in the first degree, and Marjorie, as forelady, fills out the verdict slip and puts it into her coat pocket. Returning to the courtroom, Marjorie proceeds to announce the verdict, but the judge interrupts and tells her to hand the verdict slip to the clerk. Hastily fishing in her coat pocket, Marjorie hands a slip of paper to the clerk without realizing that it was the blackmail note that Shayne had sent her. The reading of the note produces a sensation, resulting in Marjorie's arrest while Ruthe is set free. John Sutherland produced it and Sherman Scott directed it from a screen play by Al Martin, based on a story by Frank Burt and Robert Libott. Adult fare.