Classic Films in Focus: FALLEN ANGEL (1945)

Otto Preminger directs this top-notch noir tale of misplaced love and murder, which stars Dana Andrews as a small-time grifter who falls for luscious Linda Darnell but woos wealthy Alice Faye. It's a love triangle with a couple of kinks thrown into it, and the title, Fallen Angel, might equally apply to Andrews or Darnell, both of whom exhibit the cynical worldview born of hard knocks and bitter disappointment. In addition to the trio of excellent leads, the picture boasts an impressive supporting cast that includes Anne Revere, Percy Kilbride, Bruce Cabot, Charles Bickford, and the always entertaining John Carradine as a traveling spiritualist who pretends to talk to the dead.

Eric Stanton (Dana Andrews) blows into town on his last dollar and promptly gets an eyeful of Linda Darnell's sultry Stella, sometime waitress at the diner run by Pop (Percy Kilbride). Like every other mook in the joint, Eric goes for the dark-haired beauty but can't convince her that he's not just another two-bit loser. In order to get enough money to marry Stella, Eric courts the maidenly June Mills (Alice Faye), much to the consternation of her elder sister, Clara (Anne Revere). Eric intends to marry and divorce June, but when Stella turns up dead on his wedding night, Eric finds himself on the list of suspects being pursued by Mark Judd (Charles Bickford), another of Stella's admirers who happens to be a cop.

Harry Kleiner's screenplay is adapted from the novel by Marty Holland, who also wrote the story of The File on Thelma Jordan (1950), and it shades Stella in particular with more nuance than we often see in a femme fatale. She never encourages Eric or any of the other men who hang around her like flies, and she makes it clear that she wants a wedding ring and a home before she'll take any guy into her arms. She steals a little cash from Pop's till, but she's no monster; Eric is the one who hatches the plan to seduce and betray June, not Stella. Nonetheless, the film sets Stella up as the fallen angel, the beautiful but bad girl, especially in the way it introduces her. We're encouraged to think of her that way even as the picture slowly reveals how little Stella deserves her fate and how much more fallen Eric is than Stella has ever been.

Andrews is in fine noir form as Eric; it's the kind of role that lets him use both his charm and his edge of jaded ruthlessness. He talks his way into Professor Madley's spiritualist racket and then into June's good graces, but he has a lot more trouble sweet-talking the justly skeptical Stella. Perhaps that's why he likes her so much in the first place. The audience is left to wonder if June's virtuous love is enough to reform Eric, especially when we know he only marries her for the cash. Alice Faye, of course, is perfect as June; if Eric and Stella are both fallen angels, June is still wearing her halo in Heaven. Faye is one of the few actresses who can make such a good girl role appealing, and late in the film she gets a chance to reveal the sturdy spirit that Junes possesses in addition to her virtue. June might have married a man she barely knows, but when she takes a vow she means it, and that comes as quite a revelation to Eric.

Take time to savor the performances by Carradine, Revere, and Kilbride in their supporting roles; Kilbride has a particularly fine moment right at the end, when the depth of Pop's devotion finally transcends the pathetic. For more Otto Preminger noir with Dana Andrews, see Laura (1944) and Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950). Preminger also directs Linda Darnell in Forever Amber (1947) and The 13th Letter (1951). Alice Faye is remembered more for films like In Old Chicago (1938), That Night in Rio (1941), and the colorful wartime musical, The Gang's All Here (1943). You'll find Charles Bickford and Anne Revere in The Song of Bernadette (1943), while Percy Kilbride is best known today for his starring role as Pa Kettle in the Ma and Pa Kettle films, starting with The Egg and I (1947).

Classic Films in Focus: ANGEL FACE (1952)

Robert Mitchum and Jean Simmons play a deadly game of dysfunctional romance in Otto Preminger's Angel Face (1952), which features a particularly tragic femme fatale caught in the undertow of her own insanity. Everyone around her is in danger of being dragged down, as well, but Mitchum's protagonist is foolhardy enough to see the danger signs and still dive in. Angel Face benefits tremendously from Preminger's direction and the performances of the two stars, but the picture ultimately belongs to Simmons, whose sweet face conceals the murderous disorder of her obsessive mind.

Mitchum stars as Frank, an ambulance driver who answers a call at the Tremayne house only to become drawn into the family's affairs by Diane (Jean Simmons), a beautiful but manipulative young woman who hates her wealthy stepmother (Barbara O'Neil) as much as she adores her novelist father (Herbert Marshall). Frank blows off his steady girl, Mary (Mona Freeman), in order to spend time with Diane, even though he realizes that he's setting himself up for trouble. When Diane is accused of murder, Frank finds his own life on the line, as well, and he's forced to stick with her in spite of his desire to break things off and go back to Mary.

Mitchum, of course, was made for film noir, but this performance sees him in a more passive role. Frank lets Diane lead him around by the nose until it's far too late to walk out, even though he eventually gets fed up enough to try. The actor has a unique ability to make us believe how a smart guy might do a series of very stupid things. "Never be the innocent bystander," Frank says, "that's the guy that always gets hurt." He doesn't take his own advice. Simmons is a marvel as the siren who lures Frank on toward disaster; she isn't intentionally bad so much as she is utterly deranged, a broken doll with a little girl's face and a jealous killer's heart. Like Ellen Berent in Leave Her to Heaven (1945) and Annie Laurie Starr in Gun Crazy (1950), Diane is capable of love, but it's a passionate, possessive storm of emotion that destroys the ones it adores. Diane loves her father, but she can't tolerate her stepmother's intrusion into their lives, and her desire to get rid of Catherine Tremayne takes her well beyond the point of no return. She loves Frank, even though she knows that he never stops thinking about returning to Mary. Eventually she realizes that there's only one way to make sure that he never walks out.

The supporting performances are all solid, with Herbert Marshall especially sympathetic and rather pitiable as the novelist whose marriage into money has ruined him for his art. We can see why Diane worships her father, but we also recognize the essential weakness of his nature. Barbara O'Neil does an excellent job with the tough role of Diane's stepmother. Diane, resentful and childish, wants to cast her as a fairy tale villain, while O'Neil shows us the extent to which Diane's vision is self-deluding. Mona Freeman has some very good scenes with Mitchum as the justly offended girlfriend, but her best moment is the luncheon confrontation with Diane, where Mary proves that she's not going to play Diane's duplicitous game. Leon Ames is polished and rather disturbing as the attorney who defends Diane, and Jim Backus turns up for a few energetic scenes on behalf of the prosecution.

Otto Preminger directed other noir films, including Laura (1944), Fallen Angel (1945), and Whirlpool (1949); he also directed Mitchum again in the Western, River of No Return (1954). See more of the magnificent Mitchum in Out of the Past (1947), The Night of the Hunter (1955), and Cape Fear (1962). You'll find Jean Simmons in Great Expectations (1946), Black Narcissus (1947), and Spartacus (1960). Barbara O'Neil is best remembered today for playing Scarlett O'Hara's mother in Gone with the Wind (1939), while Herbert Marshall is known for Foreign Correspondent (1940) and The Letter (1940).

Classic Films in Focus: STALAG 17 (1953)

Stalag 17 (1953) is exactly the kind of war movie one might expect from Billy Wilder, the writer and director behind monumental classics like Double Indemnity (1944), Sunset Boulevard (1950), and Some Like It Hot (1959). Wilder’s darkest pictures inevitably reveal a grim sense of humor, while his funniest flirt with violence and death. Stalag 17 plays like a comedy, even though it’s set in a World War II POW camp and opens with the deaths of two of the prisoners. An outstanding ensemble of actors, led by William Holden, helps to sell this complex mix of humor and tension, and the result is a memorable story of wartime experience that stands alongside The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) and The Great Escape (1963) as one of the best prisoner of war movies ever made.

Holden plays camp trader J.J. Sefton, one of a large group of American sergeants held in Stalag 17. When the Nazi guards repeatedly get wind of the prisoners’ plans and information, it becomes clear that someone on the inside is acting as an informant, and the other soldiers immediately suspect Sefton. The danger posed by the leak increases with the arrival of a new prisoner (Don Taylor), whom the Nazis will execute as a saboteur if they can get proof of his actions.

Wilder and Edwin Blum adapted the story from a stage play by former Stalag 17 prisoners Donald Bevan and Edmund Trzcinski, and Trzcinski even has a small role in the picture as the prisoner whose wife concocts a tall tale about “finding” a baby during his absence. Several of the supporting players are carried over from the play, including Robert Strauss and Harvey Lembeck as the scene-stealing Animal and Shapiro. Unlike some films adapted from plays, Stalag 17 avoids feeling overly staged and closeted because of the numerous outdoor scenes, most of which feature an incredible amount of mud.

Holden’s performance drives the story, but his jaded, opportunistic character is no hero. We have to dislike him enough to see why the rest of the prisoners suspect him, although a thoughtful viewer will also recognize the significance of his protection of Cookie (Gil Stratton), the story’s narrator and one of the most vulnerable prisoners in the barracks. The more obvious antagonists, Sgt. Schulz (Sig Ruman) and the camp commandant (Otto Preminger), are as ridiculous as they are menacing, much like the Nazis in Ernst Lubitsch’s To Be or Not to Be (1942). The other prisoners run the gamut of character types, from the heroic Lt. Dunbar (Taylor) and the shell-shocked Joey (Robinson Stone) to the boyish “Blondie” (Robert Shawley) and the camp clowns Animal and Shapiro. Take time to appreciate the solid performances of Richard Erdman, Peter Graves, and Neville Brand as the other residents of the barracks.

Stalag 17 earned three Oscar nominations, including nods for Wilder and Strauss, but Holden’s Best Actor award was the only win. For more of Wilder’s films, see The Major and the Minor (1942), The Lost Weekend (1945), and The Apartment (1960). Look for William Holden in Born Yesterday (1950) and Sunset Boulevard (1950). Sig Ruman appears in many classic comedies, including A Night at the Opera (1935), Ninotchka (1939), and To Be or Not to Be (1942). Otto Preminger appeared in very few acting roles but is remembered today as the director of classics like Laura (1944), The Man with the Golden Arm (1955), and Anatomy of a Murder (1959).

Note: A shorter version of this review can be found on Examiner.com.