Harrison's Reports (1950)

54 HARRISON'S REPORTS April 8, 1950 "The Lawless" with Macdonald Carey and Gail Russell (Paramount, July; time, 83 min.) "The Lawless" is the finest picture ever turned out by the Pine-Thomas producing team. Dealing with racial prejudice and bigotry in a small California town, where many of the inhabitants are of Mexican descent, it is a tense melodrama that puts the spotlight forcefully on an important social problem. The direction and acting are of the first order, with an exceptionally good performance turned in by Macdonald Carey, as the courageous local newspaper editor, who defies the town's bigots to take up the defense of a MexicanAmerican youth unjustly accused of murder The action is filled with suspense and tension, particularly in the chase scenes, and in the sequence where an angered mob wrecks Careys newspaper plant. Although it offers no solution to the problem, the story is, from a social standpoint, of strong significance in that its depiction of bigotry at its ugliest points up the need for more tolerance towards one's fellow-man: — t Carey, a former big-city reporter, had retired to the comparative easy life of editor and publisher of a smalltown paper in a community in the heart of the northern California fruit district. He covers a dance sponsored by the fruit pickers, most of whom were of Mexican descent, and there meets Gail Russell who, with her father, published a small Mexican weekly in the city. During the dance, a group of wealthy boys from the better side of town, headed by John Sands, pick a fight with Lalo Rios and Maurice Jara, two youthful Mexican boys who had accidentally bumped into Sands' car earlier in the day. The police arrive and in the free-for-all Rios unintentionally strikes a policeman. He is caught after a chase and, as the police return with him, their car is wrecked in an accident, killing one officer. Rios escapes unharmed and hides in a farm barn. He is discovered by the farmer's young daughter who, turning to run, strikes her head and is knocked senseless. When she is found, Rios is blamed for attempting to attack her. Carey, convinced that the boy is innocent, joins the wide manhunt on for him and, by finding the youth and turning him over to the authorities, saves him from a possible lynching. Carey then takes up the boy's defense editorially, and in so doing angers the injured girl's father. A mob is formed and Carey's newspaper plant is wrecked completely. John Hoyt, Sands' father, realizing that his son is responsible for Rios' trouble, goes to Carey and offers to finance another paper. Moreover, he bails Rios out of jail and arranges to get him the best legal help. Carey goes to Gail's small plant, where the facilities are made available for him to put out a small daily until his new plant is ready. It was produced by William H. Pine and William C. Thomas, and directed by Joseph Losey, from an original screen play by Geoffrey Homes. Suitable for the family. "The Capture" with Teresa Wright and Lew Ayres (RKO, no rel. date set; time, 91 min.) Only moderately interesting. Set against an outdoor Mexican background, it is a moody melodrama with psychological overtones, revolving around a man's struggle with his conscience when he is haunted by the feeling that a payroll robber he had killed had been innocent. Not only is the story thin and unrealistic, but it lacks dramatic force and is difficult to follow because of the numerous flashbacks. Moreover, the pace is slow and, though it generates some suspense in several of the situations, the action on the whole has a minimum of excitement. The direction and the acting are competent, but the material is weak: — The story opens with Lew Ayres, a wounded American fugitive, seeking refuge in the home of Victor Jory, a Mexican priest. Under the priest's sympathetic questioning, Ayres reveals that, one year previously, as field boss for an American oil refinery in Mexico, he had mortally wounded a man suspected of stealing the company's payroll, and the man had died protesting his innocence. Although cleared at the inquest, his conscience had bothered him, for he suspected that the man had been telling the truth. He had sought out Teresa Wright, the dead man's widow, and assuming another identity had accepted a job as handyman on her little ranch. Teresa, having discovered his identity, had taken her revenge by overworking him, but she had eventually fallen in love with him and they had married. The matter of her dead husband's guilt or innocence still preyed on his conscience, however, and he felt that his marriage could not be successful until he learned the truth. He had started an investigation, and numerous clues had enabled him to pin the guilt on Barry Kelley, a former employee of the oil company, whom he had killed accidentally in a scuffle. Instead of giving himself up to the police, he had fled, in much the same manner as Teresa's dead husband, and he soon found himself the object of a vast manhunt. As he finishes telling his story to the priest, Mexican troops arrive and order him to surrender. Teresa, too, arrives, and her pleadings, backed by the priest, persuade Ayres to give himself up. He rides off to prison, hopeful that his story will convince the Mexican courts. The story was written and produced by Niven Busch, and directed by John Sturges. Although unobjectionable, it seems best suited for mature minds. "The Damned Don't Cry" with Joan Crawford and David Brian (Warner Bros., May 13; time, 103 min.) Distasteful is the word for this unpleasant drama about the unsavory career of a calculating woman. Since there is nothing appealing about the story, its box-office chances will depend on the drawing power of Joan Crawford. Some sympathy is felt for Miss Crawford at the beginning because of her bleak existence as a drab housewife, but this is dissipated once she leaves her husband, for she then becomes an unprincipled, conniving woman as she progresses from a dress model of questionable morals to the fashionable mistress of the suave married leader of a crime syndicate. None of the other principal characters are sympathetic, and at times the action is violently brutal. The overall mood of the film is sordid, unethical and unmoral, and it leaves a feeling of bad taste: — Unhappily married to Richard Egan, a field worker, Joan leaves him when their little son is killed in an accident. She becomes a model in a wholesale dress establishment, and quickly learns that there is considerable profit entertaining the buyers after business hours. She becomes friendly with Kent Smith, a mild-mannered accountant and, through her connections in a gambling club, obtains a job for him at a fabulous wage and eventually steers him into becoming the head accountant for an international crime syndicate headed by David Brian. She drops Smith and sets her cap for Brian, who is soon attracted to her. He changes her name, provides her with a social background and, with the aid of Selena Royle, a social secretary, sees to it that she acquires cultural polish. He refuses, however, to leave his wife, and keeps her as his mistress. When Brian suspects Steve Cochran, head of his West Coast operations, of rebellion, he sends Joan to the Coast to check on Cochran's activities. Cochran, unaware of her connection with Brian, falls in love with her. She in turn is won by his charm and finds herself unwilling to expose his plot to dispose of Brian. Meanwhile Brian, learning that Joan is doublecrossing him, comes to California and gives her a severe beating. Cochran, coming to call on her, is killed by Brian. Joan flees in fear of her life and hides out in the home of her parents. Smith, still in love with her, comes to her aid. Brian arrives shortly thereafter and, in an exchange of shots, is killed by Smith, whose own life is saved when she steps in front of him and stops a bullet discharged from Brian's gun. It ends inconclusively, with the audience left to decide if Joan will recover from the wound. It was produced by Jerry Wald and directed by Vincent Sherman from a screen play by Harold Medford and Jerome Weidman, based on a story by Gertrude Walker. Strictly adult fare.