Classic Films in Focus: EACH DAWN I DIE (1939)

As its grim title suggests, Each Dawn I Die (1939) is an explosive drama awash in death and violence, as only Warner Brothers' 1930s gangster and prison films could deliver them. William Keighley directs the parade of brutal injustice with James Cagney and George Raft as the chief victims of a horrifically corrupt system that destroys human beings without regard for their innocence or rehabilitation. Cagney's journalist hero has chosen the moral high ground as a crusader against graft and crime, but he ends up in the same place as Raft's sympathetic gangster, and in prison Cagney learns the extent of systemic cruelty. At once a riveting drama about loyalty and a scathing critique of inhumane American prisons, Each Dawn I Die gives Cagney and Raft terrific opportunities to showcase their dramatic talents.

Cagney plays hard-driving investigative reporter Frank Ross, whose efforts to uncover political corruption put him on a crooked governor's hit list. Kidnapped and set up for a drunken driving manslaughter charge, Frank gets sent to hard labor in prison, where he earns the respect of other inmates for his tough, principled behavior. He becomes especially close to gangster Hood Stacey (George Raft), who appreciates Frank's refusal to snitch. When Stacey asks Frank to help him escape, he promises to work to clear Frank's name on the outside, but Frank suffers horrifically for his loyalty while Stacey waffles about keeping his word.

Although it features a daring escape, numerous scenes of shocking cruelty, and a wildly violent gun battle finale, Each Dawn I Die is deeply invested in its story of an unlikely friendship forged in the most intolerable circumstances. Both Frank and Stacey appear as fully realized, complex characters, despite their tough talk and glaring eyes. We come to understand that they are not so different, that both men have reacted to a corrupt, unforgiving world in the way that seemed available to them. Frank fights, Stacey assimilates, but they suffer the same fate because the system devours both its enemies and its own. Cagney and Raft deliver performances that make these characters feel very real; each has a dynamic arc that allows the actors to demonstrate their range. Cagney is especially powerful in Frank's moments of anguish and rage, showing the darkness that even a good man can embrace when his humanity is denied. Raft shines as a dangerous tough guy early on, but his slow awakening to Frank's worth reminds us that he is still a human being, too, one who has become a criminal because he thought that was simply the way of the world.

The stories of the secondary characters add nuance to the central plot, with several supporting players giving very fine performances. Jane Bryan is lovely and determined as Frank's girlfriend, Joyce, who never stops trying to save him. The couple's brief moments together at the prison are tearjerker scenes of love and misery, especially when Joyce comes to see Frank after his long, agonizing months in the hole. Maxie Rosenbloom adds a hint of comic affability to the tragedy of his character, Fargo Red, an inmate who is just another everyman chewed up by the relentless system. Louis Jean Heydt plays a similar character, but purely for tragic effect; his Lassiter becomes a victim of the sadistic guard, Pete, performed with vicious brilliance by John Wray. It's a thankless task to play the kind of villain Wray takes on in Pete, since everything about him is deplorable, but he perfectly embodies the cruelty of the system as a whole. George Bancroft has a small but important role as Stacey's lawyer, and Victor Jory makes a brief but memorable appearance as Grayce, the corrupt head of the parole board who ensures that Frank's petition will be denied.

For more gangster drama from William Keighley, try 'G' Men (1935), Special Agent (1935), and Bullets or Ballots (1938). Catch Cagney as the gangster in The Public Enemy (1931), Angels with Dirty Faces (1938), and White Heat (1949). George Raft, who grew up in Hell's Kitchen, always looks at home in a tough guy role; he's best remembered for his role in Scarface (1932), but don't miss him in They Drive by Night (1940) and Some Like It Hot (1959). If classic prison movies appeal, return to the big house with I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932), Brute Force (1947), or Caged (1950).

Classic Films in Focus: LADIES THEY TALK ABOUT (1933)

Barbara Stanwyck is always exciting to watch, especially in Pre-Code pictures that let her characters straddle a fascinating line between good and bad. Baby Face (1933) is the best known of her films from this era, but Ladies They Talk About (1933) also merits admiration, especially because Stanwyck gives such a great performance as its anti-heroine, a jaded crook who nonetheless wins the love of a straight arrow crusader against crime. Most of the movie takes place inside a women's prison, which gives Ladies They Talk About plenty of ladies who warrant some discussion, as well as lots of opportunities to revel in the freedoms of Pre-Code film production. Like its iconic star, Ladies They Talk About is smart, sexy, and as tough as they come.

Stanwyck stars as Nan Taylor, a career criminal and the lone female member of a gang of bank robbers. When a sharp-eyed detective recognizes Nan at the scene of the robbery, she ends up going to jail, but she also attracts the attention of David Slade (Preston Foster), an energetic young reformer from her old hometown. Nan confesses her role in the robbery to Slade, who then retracts his offer to help her avoid prison, even though he really cares about her. In the women's section of San Quentin, Nan refuses to see Slade and becomes embroiled in her gang's jailbreak attempt, but her feelings for the handsome Slade are far more complicated than she realizes.

This is Stanwyck's picture from start to finish, and she never disappoints. Her Nan is one cool customer, even on her first day in prison. A less self-assured woman might be daunted by the cries of "New fish!" that go up when Nan enters the common rooms, but she promptly shows her mettle and puts down Susie (Dorothy Burgess), the rival whose jealous obsession with Slade makes her Nan's inveterate enemy. Only Slade has the ability to rock Nan's boat; she melts enough to confess to him early on, but his moralistic reaction strikes her as an unforgivable betrayal. She angrily tears up his letters and then plots revenge against him, but her attraction to him reveals her own better nature, even when she herself refuses to acknowledge it.

The other players merely support Stanwyck's performance, but they do so capably, especially Lillian Roth as Nan's scrappy friend, Linda, and the wonderful Ruth Donnelly as a kind-hearted prison matron. Preston Foster has the clean features and erect posture expected of a religious reformer, but he never seems too stuffy to be likable. Dorothy Burgess plays Susie with a compelling mixture of malice and madness without upstaging the star, although Maude Eburne does engage in some scene stealing as the earthy old madam, Aunt Maggie. In fact, the women of San Quentin make up quite a colorful lot, including the murderous Mrs. Arlington (Cecil Cunningham) and the feisty Mustard (Madame Sul-Te-Wan).

Be sure to appreciate the posh amenities of the prison, including the women's numerous pets and the cell walls decorated with movie stars' pictures. For more classic women's prison movies, try Caged (1950) and I Want to Live! (1958). Barbara Stanwyck's other Pre-Code films include Illicit (1931), Night Nurse (1931), and The Purchase Price (1932). You'll find Preston Foster in Doctor X (1932), I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932), and The Last Days of Pompeii (1935). Howard Bretherton and William Keighley, who directed Ladies They Talk About, also collaborated on The Match King (1932).

Ladies They Talk About is currently available from streaming on Warner Instant Archive.

Classic Films in Focus: THE BRIDE CAME C.O.D. (1941)

One does not generally think of Bette Davis as a comedienne, but The Bride Came C.O.D. (1941) provides a rare glimpse of the actress as a screwball heroine of the type more frequently played by Katharine Hepburn or Claudette Colbert. Directed by William Keighley and co-starring James Cagney, The Bride Came C.O.D. is not one of Davis' better known films or one of her best, but it's still a fun picture, especially because it offers such a different perspective on its two stars.

Davis plays oil heiress Joan Winfield, a spoiled rich girl whose whirlwind romance with a publicity-hungry band leader (Jack Carson) leads to an elopement. Joan's father (Eugene Pallette) opposes the match and accepts a deal with the couple's hired pilot, Steve Collins (James Cagney), to thwart the wedding. In order to keep Joan from tying the knot, Steve kidnaps her in his plane, but the two end up stranded in a desert ghost town where the only resident is an eccentric old man called Pop (Harry Davenport). Stuck with each other, Joan and Steve bicker their way toward romance, much to the amusement of Pop, but a widely publicized search for the missing bride makes Steve a wanted man.

In Dark Victory: The Life of Bette Davis, biographer Ed Sikov writes this movie off as "the worst screwball comedy ever made," but that's really an unfair assessment of the film. Davis looks great and seems to be having a wonderful time, and Cagney's own tremendous personality perfectly matches hers. It's a shame that they didn't make more films together. Admittedly, some of the gags wear thin by the movie's end; Bette Davis' rear seems magnetically attracted to every cactus in the desert, and the jokes about her weight won't get laughs from many female viewers. Davis does, however, get to cut loose for a change, and she and Cagney have the right chemistry for screwball romance. Cagney, of course, had more experience with comedy than his leading lady, and he also looks like he's enjoying himself quite a bit. He and Davis are both experts at salty, derisive dialogue and a well-timed, mocking laugh, and the relationship between Joan and Steve builds on these shared aspects of their temperaments.

Look for reliable character actors Eugene Pallette and William Frawley in supporting roles. Harry Davenport is very funny as Pop Tolliver, the crusty loner whose dilapidated hotel serves as a refuge for Joan and Steve. Davis and Cagney also star together in the 1934 film Jimmy the Gent, directed by Michael Curtiz. Contrast Davis' performance here with her better-known performances in Jezebel (1938), Dark Victory (1939), and All About Eve (1950). See classic Cagney in The Public Enemy (1931), Footlight Parade (1933), and Angels with Dirty Faces (1938). For more from director William Keighley, try The Prince and the Pauper (1937) and The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938).

An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.