Showing posts with label Dane Clark. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dane Clark. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Classic Films in Focus: A STOLEN LIFE (1946)

Bette Davis stars as a pair of identical twins, one good and one bad, in A Stolen Life (1946), but the title grossly oversimplifies the circumstances that lead one twin to usurp the identity of the other. What we get is really a romantic drama, not a mystery or a thriller, but it's a very compelling story, nonetheless, with Davis giving her usual top-notch performance in both roles. Curtis Bernhardt directs the action with an excellent eye for the staging of this unusual set-up, which puts double the Davis onscreen a lot for a 1946 picture, and the effects still look good almost seventy years later. While Davis naturally dominates A Stolen Life with her dual role, Glenn Ford, Dane Clark, and Charlie Ruggles all make memorable appearances, and Max Steiner's music perfectly sets the tone for a story of love, loss, and unexpected second chances.

Davis first appears as Kate Bosworth, an aspiring artist who cleverly convinces a crusty old lighthouse keeper (Walter Brennan) to let her paint his portrait. The man she really wants to spend time with, however, is handsome Bill (Glenn Ford), who works at the lighthouse, as well. Despite Kate's best efforts, Bill eventually meets her more flirtatious twin sister, Pat, who pursues Bill mostly because she knows that Kate wants him. When Bill marries Pat, Kate is heartbroken, but a tragic accident gives her the chance to enjoy the life her sister had stolen.

It's hard not to imagine the dual casting of Davis as a gimmick of the Patty Duke and Hayley Mills variety, but it never feels that way onscreen. Davis plays both parts for their full melodramatic value, with introverted Kate and extroverted Pat as clearly defined, well-developed individuals. The split screen scenes give us ample opportunity to contrast the body language, tone, and expression of the two sisters. In one especially striking bit, we even see them touch, but the special effect is secondary to the moment's emotional import. Kate sincerely loves her sister, but Pat's selfish actions wound her deeply; at the wedding Kate deftly sidesteps the bouquet that Pat throws toward her, a quiet but pointed way of demonstrating her unhappiness with her thoughtless sibling. When Pat conveniently drowns, Kate assumes her identity because everyone around her believes that she is the other sister, and the deception proves a terrible strain, especially because Pat has made such a mess of the marriage that Bill wants to be divorced and done with it. Of course, Bill's unhappiness is his own fault for picking the wrong sister in the first place, but the movie suggests that Kate should have fought harder to keep man she loved. Kate has bought into Pat's selfishness and enabled it to a dangerous degree. "Must you always let that sister of yours get ahead of you?" asks her cousin, Freddie (Charlie Ruggles). Even after Pat's death Kate still lets her be the dominant sister, sacrificing "Kate" as the victim to make "Pat" the survivor. It takes Kate the whole narrative to step out from behind her sister's shadow and assert her own identity.

The men in the sisters' lives contribute to the story's effect, with particularly strong performances from Charlie Ruggles as Freddie and Dane Clark as the temperamental artist Karnock. Ruggles exudes charm and sympathy as the genial older cousin, rightly aligning himself with Kate from the very start. Clark proves a scene-stealer as the caustic, passionate Karnock, so much so that we wonder why Kate doesn't gravitate toward him and get on with her life after Bill drops her for Pat. Like Kate herself, Karnock lacks style but bursts with substance, and he's unfailingly true to himself and his art. Moreover, it's clear that he harbors some intense emotions regarding Kate, even if he's too rough to articulate them in a conventionally romantic fashion. His portrait of her, done after her supposed death, speaks volumes about his real feelings. He's quite the foil to leading man Glenn Ford, who has a less rewarding role since we understand that Bill is a dope who prefers style over substance. The early scenes, in which we watch him fall for Pat and cool toward Kate, are especially irritating. Ford has his best moments when Bill gets angry, especially after Kate takes Pat's place and learns the truth about her sister's marriage. In those scenes the hard edged intensity that Ford embodies gets some vent, and we realize that Pat was a fool to imagine a man like that would put up with her bedroom games. The ending is neat and conventional, perhaps too much so, but it's exactly what one expects from a 1940s romantic drama. Running off with Karnock is not, unfortunately, ever presented as a real option.

Be sure to note Clara Blandick and Bruce Bennett in small supporting roles. A Stolen Life earned an Oscar nomination for its special effects but lost to Blithe Spirit (1945). For more films directed by Curtis Bernhardt, see My Reputation (1946), Possessed (1947), and Miss Sadie Thompson (1953). Bette Davis also plays twins in Dead Ringer (1964); for other Davis pictures from the mid-1940s try Mr. Skeffington (1944) and Deception (1946). Look for Glenn Ford in Gilda (1946), The Big Heat (1953), and 3:10 to Yuma (1957). Dane Clark and Bette Davis both appear in Hollywood Canteen (1944), while Charlie Ruggles and Glenn Ford can be found in Gallant Journey (1946). For a double feature of dual roles, try pairing A Stolen Life with The Prisoner of Zenda (1937), That Night in Rio (1941), or The Dark Mirror (1946), in which Olivia de Havilland also plays identical twins.


Monday, August 5, 2013

Classic Films in Focus: HOLLYWOOD CANTEEN (1944)

There really was a Hollywood Canteen during World War II; it was the brainchild of stars John Garfield and Bette Davis and the hottest spot in town for servicemen of all sorts throughout the war years. For the rest of their lives veterans would remember their evenings in that magical place, where the brightest stars of the big screen mingled with patriotic average Joes and danced the night away. The 1944 film, Hollywood Canteen, takes us back to that time with a fictionalized and patently romantic story that weaves together starry-eyed young love and musical numbers from Warner Brothers’ top acts. Unabashedly sentimental and perhaps a little too long, Hollywood Canteen is nonetheless a real treat for nostalgic viewers and fans of Warner’s vast sea of stars, and some of its musical numbers will absolutely knock your socks off if you enjoy the swinging sounds of the era.

Robert Hutton plays the film’s central character, Slim, a young Purple Heart recipient who is on leave for a few days before shipping back out to active duty. Along with his pal, Sergeant Nolan (Dane Clark), Slim makes his way to the Hollywood Canteen, where the biggest stars in Hollywood entertain and work the kitchen to support the war effort. Slim harbors a passion for leading lady Joan Leslie (Joan Leslie), and Nolan romances a junior hostess (Janis Paige), while various celebrities take a personal interest in Slim’s budding romance with his screen idol.

The story is really just a frame for the series of musical acts, but it’s sweet enough thanks to Hutton’s fresh-faced sincerity and Joan Leslie’s unfeigned loveliness. Hutton, more or less a newcomer to the screen in 1944, fits his character’s nickname perfectly with a lanky figure and “aw shucks” manner that recall a young Jimmy Stewart. Joan Leslie doesn’t have to work very hard at pretending to be herself, but her performance thoroughly justifies the crush nursed by Slim and plenty of real young servicemen. Her real-life sister, Betty Brodel, makes a brief appearance as herself, although, oddly enough, Joan’s parents are played by actors in uncredited roles, which mixes up real people and actors very confusingly when Joan brings Slim home to meet her family.

Warner pulls out all the stops in stacking the deck with terrific musical acts and star cameos, and these moments make the picture a delight for fans. The first half has the best numbers, with Roy Rogers and Trigger performing “Don’t Fence Me In,” the Golden Gate Quartet swinging it with “The General Jumped at Dawn,” and the Andrews Sisters singing an irresistibly funny version of “Corns for My Country.” The second half drags a bit with a series of instrumental numbers, especially since the clock is ticking for Slim and Joan’s inevitable parting, but the majority of the performances are winners, and the Joan McCracken dance production is particularly engaging and fun. Among the many stars making brief appearances look out for Bette Davis, John Garfield, Paul Henreid, Alan Hale, S.Z. Sakall, Joan Crawford, Barbara Stanwyck, Jack Carson, Jack Benny, and Ida Lupino. Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet have an uproariously funny scene that capitalizes on their reputations as dangerous characters, and Joe E. Brown is delightful during his comedy bits and musical assistance during the “You Can Always Tell a Yank” number sung by Dennis Morgan.

Hollywood Canteen earned three Oscar nominations for music, original song, and sound. Delmer Daves, who wrote and directed the picture, is best remembered today for directing films like Dark Passage (1947), Broken Arrow (1950), and 3:10 to Yuma (1957). You can see more of both Robert Hutton and Dane Clark in the Daves picture, Destination Tokyo (1943). Find out why Joan Leslie inspired such devotion with High Sierra (1941), Sergeant York (1941), and Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942). For a New York version of the same set up, see Stage Door Canteen (1943).

Hollywood Canteen is currently available for streaming on Warner Archive Instant.