Classic Films in Focus: MURDER, HE SAYS (1945)

Fred MacMurray and Marjorie Main most famously appear together in the 1947 comedy classic, The Egg and I, but Murder, He Says (1945) offers an earlier pairing that pits the two against one another as hapless city slicker and unscrupulous backwoods crook. This comic mystery from director George Marshall bursts with physical comedy, sight gags, and cartoon peril that even the youngest viewers can appreciate; I first saw Murder, He Says many decades ago, and the memory of its loony fun has stayed with me ever since. MacMurray and Main are the chief attractions in this homicidal hoot, but the supporting cast features entertaining, offbeat performances from Porter Hall, Jean Heather, Peter Whitney, Barbara Pepper, and Helen Walker as MacMurray's attractive ally.

The story opens with locals concerned about the lawless Fleagle gang just as professional pollster Pete Marshall (MacMurray) arrives in town looking for his missing coworker. Pete soon discovers that his predecessor had a fateful encounter with the Fleagles, who also take Pete prisoner with the intention of murdering him. The Fleagle matriarch, Mamie (Marjorie Main), spares Pete so she can use him to get dying Grandma Fleagle (Mabel Paige) to reveal the location of a fortune in stolen cash, but Pete only acquires a confusing clue before the old lady expires. Everyone in the house rushes to find the loot while thwarting or betraying the others, but the confusion increases when two different women claiming to be Bonnie Fleagle turn up and demand the money.

The Fleagles are as nutty and sinister a gang as any madcap comedy could invent, but their wackiness overpowers their ability to terrorize. Main leads the pack as bad-tempered but duplicitous Mamie, alternating between imitations of human tenderness and cracks of her much-used whip. The role lets Main cut loose with an extreme version of her usual character type; Mamie is a rough matriarch with no heart of gold to redeem her brusque manner. Mamie's current husband, a mild-looking little man named Mr. Johnson, is played by comedy stalwart Porter Hall with sly amiability and amoral intentions. Peter Whitney does double duty as identical twins Bert and Mert, a hilarious gag that the picture fully commits to in repeated scenes that frequently have Whitney acting against himself. Of the other family members, Grandma and the real Bonnie (Barbara Pepper) make brief but memorable appearances, while Jean Heather gets a sympathetic but rather tragic role as Mamie's daughter, Elany, a pretty sort of Ophelia figure whose main job is to sing the nonsense song wherein the clue to the stolen cash is hidden. Together they're a lot to keep track of as the rapid action unfolds, especially in a house full of trap doors, secret passages, and even radioactive poison. Each character, though, is played with enough energy and comedy to be memorable, even if nobody can tell Bert and Mert apart.

MacMurray and Helen Walker play the sane characters in the midst of this mayhem, but their roles also have great comedy moments. Walker's tough act in her first scene gives way to her development as the hero's love interest and partner against the Fleagles, but she gamely keeps up the deception for much of the movie. While he starred in dramas and serious films like Double Indemnity (1944), MacMurray is also widely celebrated as a comedy lead in pictures like The Egg and I (1947), The Shaggy Dog (1959), and The Absent-Minded Professor (1961). Murder, He Says belongs very much to the second set, despite its title, which recalls a song written for the 1943 film, Happy Go Lucky, and predates the arrival of the Miss Marple comedy, Murder She Said, in 1961. As the unlucky but quick-thinking Pete, MacMurray is constantly on the move, falling into traps, climbing out windows, and always trying to stay one step ahead of the violent but incompetent Mert and Bert. His scenes with the imaginary ghost are especially fun and will remind viewers of Harvey (1950), which might well be intentional as the original stage version had appeared in 1944.

For more of Marjorie Main's comic roles, see The Women (1939), Heaven Can Wait (1943), and The Harvey Girls (1946). George Marshall's other comedy films include The Ghost Breakers (1940), Hold That Blonde! (1945), and Scared Stiff (1953). Look for Helen Walker in Brewster's Millions (1945), Cluny Brown (1946), and Call Northside 777 (1948). Jean Heather appears in supporting roles in Double Indemnity and Going My Way (1944), but her film career was cut short by a 1947 car accident that damaged her face. If the clue tune in Murder, He Says sounds weirdly familiar, you probably listen to NPR's All Things Considered, which features an identical song as its theme music.

You can find Murder, He Says on DVD or stream it on The Criterion Channel (as part of the December 2022 Screwball Comedy lineup).

Classic Films in Focus: NIGHTMARE ALLEY (1947)

Tyrone Power is best remembered today as a swashbuckling hero, but in Nightmare Alley (1947) the star gets to revel in his darker side, using his good looks and intense charisma to chilling effect as a callous heel whose con games inevitably catch up with him. Directed by Edmund Goulding, this classic film noir bursts with shady characters and seedy ambiance; no setting could be better suited to the fatalistic shadow play of the genre than a two-bit traveling carnival, with its losers, crooks, and abject sideshow freaks. Joan Blondell, Coleen Gray, and Helen Walker give solid performances as the trio of women who shape Power’s protagonist, but it’s Power himself who dominates the show in a role he truly was made for.

Power plays ambitious carny Stan Carlisle, who hopes to become a big time performer with the help of middle-aged mentalist Zeena (Joan Blondell). When Zeena’s alcoholic husband dies, she gives Stan the break he wants, but Stan uses the opportunity to quit the carnival and take his naive young bride, Molly (Coleen Gray), with him. Stan’s fame and fortune rise, but he courts disaster when he falls in with a beautiful psychologist (Helen Walker) who encourages him to begin a dangerously complicated con.

Power gives an electrifying performance as Stan. His handsome features here take on a dissipated edge, with crow’s feet crinkling around his hungry, burning eyes. We know from the start that Stan is no good, but Power makes him more anti-hero than true villain, a small-time guy whose ambition is always too big for him. Stan uses everyone he meets, especially the women, but he surprises us and perhaps himself, as well, when it turns out that he really does love Molly. His young wife’s refusal to carry out his cynical deception is not a betrayal of Stan but an expression of her own innate goodness; we expect him to be furious with her, but instead he rushes to get her out of harm’s way, leading to a brief, tender moment of farewell. In many noir films, a good girl like Molly can be as much the protagonist’s undoing as the femme fatale, but the final scene suggests that in this case Molly might yet be Stan’s saving grace. Power’s character walks a fine enough moral line that we want to see that glimmer of hope at the end, even as we relish Stan’s much-deserved fall.

Noir generally deals in the workings of fate, but in Nightmare Alley the theme has special significance. The turning of Fortune’s wheel is represented as inevitable, irresistible, and grimly ironic. When we first meet Stan we find him both fascinated and horrified by the carnival geek, a poor sap fallen so low that he’ll bite the heads off of live chickens for a bottle of booze and a place to sleep. Throughout the film, Stan’s moments of crisis are punctuated by the remembered screams of the geek; we know, as Stan himself does, that this fate waits for him as surely as death waits for us all. Zeena’s Tarot cards confirm that Stan must take his place as the hanged man, the heir to Zeena’s doomed husband and the geek, as well. In the world of carnival noir, the characters’ belief in Tarot is never merely superstition; the cards reveal the truth about a world controlled by fate. Only a fool like Stan tries to fight it. His last line in the film, “Mister, I was made for it,” is both an ironic echo of his earlier ego and a signal that Stan finally accepts the card he has been dealt.

In addition to the major players, be sure to appreciate the distinctive presence of Mike Mazurki as the carnival strongman, Bruno. Tyrone Power is best known for films like The Mark of Zorro (1940) and The Black Swan (1942), but he also plays a darker character in his final picture, Witness for the Prosecution (1957). Sample Joan Blondell’s long career with Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933), A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (1945), and Desk Set (1957). Look for Coleen Gray in Kiss of Death (1947), Red River (1948), and Kansas City Confidential (1952). Helen Walker also stars in Brewster’s Millions (1945), Murder, He Says (1945), and Call Northside 777 (1948). For more from director Edmund Goulding, see Grand Hotel (1932), Dark Victory (1939), and The Razor’s Edge (1946).