Harrison's Reports (1950)

90 HARRISON'S REPORTS June 10, 1950 "The Next Voice You Hear" with James Whitmore and Nancy Davis (MGM, no release date set; time, 82 min.) Dore Schary has fashioned a most impressive and unusual picture in "The Next Voice You Hear," a stirring drama of the reactions of people when God speaks to them on the radio. It is a decidedly different picture, yet it should go over in a big way with all types of audiences, for it puts over its message of faith, kindness, and love for one's fellow man not by preachment, but by means of a strongly appeal' ing human-interest story that depicts the emotional upset and eventual understanding that takes place in a typical American household. The subject matter is considerably off the beaten path, and Mr. Schary, as producer, and William Wellman, as director, deserve great credit for the good taste and dignity with which they have handled it. The story has God taking to the radio at precisely 8:30 every night for six nights to warn and remind people throughout the world that they had forgotten to practice love, kindness and understanding of one another. To typify the emotional upset caused by this phenomena, the camera centers its attention on the household of James Whitmore, an average American worker employed in a west coast airplane plant, who lives happily in his modest home with Nancy Davis, his wife, who is expecting her second child, and Gary Gray, their 10-year-old son, who earned pocket money by delivering newspapers. The happy existence of the family is disturbed one evening when Whitmore, listening to the radio, hears the voice of God admonish him. He believes the voice to be a hoax, but other people in town claim to have heard it and the newspapers report that it had been heard in other parts of the world at the same time in different languages. When God broadcasts again on the second night, Whitmore, like a number of his friends, is still dubious, but he becomes convinced when God, to give effect to His words, causes a frightening flash thunderstorm. He becomes gripped with fear, goes through a harrowing experience when his wife is taken to the hospital with false labor pains, and in general anticipates that the worst will happen to him and his loved ones. But he rids himself of this fear within the next few days when God gets over his message for the need of peace and understanding among all people. In the end, he becomes more tolerant towards Lillian Bronson, his panicky spinster sister-in-law, and towards Art Smith, his grumpy foreman, whose job he had coveted. And when the time comes for Nancy to have her baby, he stands by calmly in the hospital, confident that everything will turn out all right because of his renewed faith in God. A brief synopsis cannot do justice to the many human touches in the story nor to the heart-warming relationship between Whitmore and his wife. There are some fine comedy touches, too, particularly in the sequence where Whitmore tries to drown his fear in drink, and in the scenes where he tangles with a motorcycle cop for reckless driving. The performances are excellent, with those of Whitmore and Miss Davis outstanding. Charles Schnee wrote the fine screen play, based on a story by George Sumner Albee. The cast includes Tom D'Andrea, Jeff Corey and others. Excellent for all types of audiences. "The Rocking Horse Winner" with an all-British cast (UnivAntl, June; time, 91 min.) This is a curious British-made tragic drama, revolving around a sensitive youngster who destroys himself in an effort to satisfy his selfish mother's insatiable thirst for money. It is an unhappy tale, expertly directed and acted, but as entertainment, if it can be called such, its appeal will be directed to the very few — those who patronize the art houses. The curious story, with its overtones of the supernatural, is too weird to be enjoyed by the general run of movie-goers. In the development of the story, Valerie Hobson, a spendthrift, constantly quarrels with Hugh Sinclair, her weakwilled husband, over his inability to keep them out of financial difficulties. John Howard Davies, their 10-year-old son, becomes depressed with the perpetual bickering over money, and finds a warm and understanding friend in John Mills, a former jockey who had come to work for the family as a handyman. Gifted with a rocking horse at Christmas time, the boy is fascinated by Mills' stories of his turf exploits. Later, while riding the rocking horse in his room, he becomes conscious of whisperings that are a continual cry for money. He imagines himself a real jockey, and in his imaginations finds himself able to predict the winners of forthcoming horse races. With the secret aid of Mills and of Ronald Squire, his uncle, the boy starts betting with a few shillings and soon amasses a fortune, which he turns over to his mother without letting her know of its origin. This new wealth makes her even more extravagant, and the youngster, driven by a sense of worry and urgency to keep her happy, suddenly finds himself unable to predict the winners. He resorts to frenzied spells of riding his rocking horse and manages eventually to pick the winner of the Derby, thus winning a fortune, but the effort brings about his death from a brainstorm. The tragedy brings his mother to her senses regarding money. The screen play was written and directed by Anthony Pelissier, based on the short story by D. H. Lawrence. John Mills produced it. Adult fare. "Destination Big House" with Dorothy Patrick and Robert Rockwell (Republic, June 1; time, 60 min.) In spite of the fact that the story strains one's credulity, there is enough originality in this program melodrama to put it a notch above most supporting features. It is not, as the title indicates, a prison picture. The plot, which revolves around a pretty schoolteacher who becomes innocently involved in scandal and with crooks when a dying gangster she had befriended wills her $80,000, has many surprising and amusing twists. It succeeds in holding one's attention throughout, for one never knows what will happen next. Towards the finish, the story becomes rather wildly melodramatic and loses its effect, but not to the extent where it hurts one's enjoyment of the proceedings as a whole: — While spending the week-end alone in the mountain cabin of Robert Rockwell, her fiance and a doctor, Dorothy Patrick gives first aid to Richard Benedict, who tells her that he had been shot accidentally while hunting. Actually, Benedict was a big-city racketeer, who had run out on his mob with $80,000 in cash. Benedict hides the money in the cabin and, while Dorothy leaves on an errand, he is shot down by Robert Armstrong and John Harmon, two members of his gang. Benedict manages to get to a hospital and, before he dies, he wills the money to Dorothy without revealing where it was hidden. The newspapers treat the story as if Dorothy had been Benedict's moll, and her denials of any previous acquaintance with him or of knowledge of the existence of the money are disbelieved by all except Rockwell and Jimmy Lydon, her younger brother. To stop the vicious gossip, Dorothy announces that, if the money comes into her possession, she will give it to Rockwell's hospital for a new polio wing. In the events that follow, Armstrong, posing as an income tax agent, persuades Dorothy to search the cabin with him for the money. Meanwhile Lydon, heavily in debt to Larry J. Blake, a local gambling racketeer, is put under pressure to find the money and pay his debt. Lydon succeeds in finding the money, but his conscience compels him to hide it again. Blake and his henchmen, however, beat the information out of Lydon, who manages to warn Dorothy. She in turn enlists Armstrong's aid to take her to an isolated farm house, where Lydon had hidden the $80,000. Armstrong grabs the money for himself just as Blake and his crooks arrive. A gun battle ensues, with the crooks killing each other off as Rockwell comes to Dorothy's rescue. The money is retrieved and given to the hospital. It was produced by William Lackey and directed by George Blair from a screen play by Eric Taylor, based on a story by Mortimer Braus. Unobjectionable morally.