Noir-vember: Each Dawn I Die (1939)

There are many names attached to Each Dawn I Die. Director William Keighley is someone I always forget worked alongside Michael Curtiz on the peerless The Adventures Of Robin Hood. I also didn't remember writers Norman Reilly Raine or Warren Duff, despite them having a heap of credits on films that I have loved over the years. This is based on a novel by Jerome Odlum (I don't think I have read any of his works), and the supporting cast includes a wide selection of impressive players, from George Bancroft to Maxie Rosenbloom, Stanley Ridges to Alan Baxter, John Wray, and many more. 

The only two names I care about though, considering my own attachment to both of them, are James Cagney and George Raft. The former was a huge figure in my early days of discovering cinema (and I am still in awe of some of his best gangster movies). The latter made an impression on me due to his involvement with at least two classic movies in very different genres. So that's why I made time for Each Dawn I Die.

Cagney plays Frank Ross, the kind of character you would label a crusading investigative reporter.  He's so good at his job that he ends up framed for a DUI manslaughter incident. Once in prison, Ross ends up roped into a scheme by a con named Stacey (Raft) who believes that he can make an escape and then help Ross from his position outside the prison. Things don't go smoothly though, of course, and it's a real test of how patient and loyal Ross is while he waits for Stacey to keep his word. Meanwhile, Joyce (Jane Bryan) suspects the worst, and she doesn't think Ross is ever getting out of prison. So she might as well find Stacey and give him a piece of her mind.

Focusing more on the everyday perils of prison life, especially for someone who has made powerful enemies, Each Dawn I Die leans fully into the noir side of things when it becomes clear that the whole thing hinges on whether or not Raft's character can bring himself to take a huge risk in order to repay a debt to someone who put their faith in him. Raft isn't a good man, but he's also never had anyone really be good to him. This is a test for him, but it's also completely new territory.

Cagney can do the stoic tough man in his sleep, and he's great here. In fact, he's so good that you can see the change in his character and demeanour as prison life continues to drain his energy and optimism. Raft is as cool as can be, something he can also do effortlessly, and he does such a good job of convincing himself that he doesn't owe anyone anything that viewers may consider a number of potential directions for the third act. That changes when Bryan has her say, but at least that allows her to have one moment where she is pro-active and fearless. 

The screenplay has a smattering of really good lines of dialogue, the pacing just about works well enough for the 92-minute runtime (although the middle section dips slightly), and Keighley directs well enough. It's all about Cagney and Raft sharing the lead duties though, and both men absolutely excel in roles that feel tailor-made for them. Ironic, considering it was initially meant to be Cagney playing Stacey and Edward G. Robinson, then John Garfield, then Fred MacMurray playing Ross. 

8/10

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Angels With Dirty Faces (1938)

There are many movies that just don't hold up when you revisit them. They are tinged with a glow of nostalgia that quickly fades away in front of your older eyes. Many were just aimed precisely at the you as you were then, compared to the you of today. But many of the classics can be relied on not to disappoint. They endure for a reason. That's what I was hoping when I finally revisited Angels With Dirty Faces anyway, a film that I loved as a young boy, and a film that would always set me to tears every time I watched it (seriously, my mother would have a towel ready for me as things moved towards the finale, and I would cover my red, snotty, bawling face with it as the end credits rolled).

There's a bit more going on here than I remembered. I forgot, for example, that Humphrey Bogart played a shady lawyer who makes his name, and riches, off stolen loot that was being held for his client (Rocky Sullivan, played by James Cagney). And I forgot how the third act brings everything together, with a net closing around Rocky thanks to the persistence of a friend (Father Jerry O'Connolly, played by Pat O'Brien) who wants to clean the criminal element out of the neighbourhood.

But let me start at the beginning. Rocky and Jerry are first seen as a pair of cheeky kids. They try to steal some pens from a railway carriage, are caught in the act, and flee. Jerry slips, Rocky picks him up. They run. unfortunately, Rocky isn't quite as quick, which leads to him being caught. He won't give up his friend to help lighten the sentence, and so he begins a life mostly spent behind bars, in between further criminal activities.
Fast forward to Rocky and Jerry as adults, two men who ended up on two very different paths, but also two men who immediately rekindle their friendship when they meet up again. And both men end up offering a helping hand to a group of young larcenists (The Dead End Kids) - Jerry has known them for some time, Rocky meets the group when they try to steal his wallet. That's the main story. The kids idolise Rocky, once they realise who he is, and Jerry tries to use this in a positive way. Meanwhile, Rocky is also wanting to get his money back and make himself a more comfortable life, others will go to deadly lengths to stop that from happening, and there's a woman (Laury, played by Ann Sheridan) who catches the eye of our (anti-)hero.

Based on a scenario by Rowland Brown, Angels With Dirty Faces is a perfect combination of a wonderful script (by John Wexley and Warren Duff), great direction (from Michael Curtiz), and dazzling star power. It's also a perfect combination of gangster action, comedy, and a heart-swelling look at how strong the bonds of friendship can be when forged at the right age.

I am a fan of Cagney in pretty much anything he ever did, but this remains one of his best performances, allowing him to play the comfortable tough guy role that made him famous while injecting a lot more humour and sweetness. O'Brien is a bit stiffer in his role, but that's not a major negative, considering the very earnest and unwavering part he plays in the proceedings. Bogart is as good as ever (I may not have seen much of his work while a youngster, but became a firm fan of his in my adult movie-watching years), all about his self-enrichment and self-preservation, and Sheridan does well to make a lasting impression in a film that is otherwise all about the guys. As for the Dead End Kids, well, it's perhaps inevitable that I don't enjoy their antics quite as much today as I did when I was a youngster, but they're still an amusing and likeable bunch.

I eventually covered the beginning of the film and I guess I should end on the ending. I won't reveal any details, because I don't believe the age of a movie should let people assume that everyone already knows all about it, but I will say that it still packs a punch. It's in line with the whole direction of the story, it's played beautifully by all involved, and, yes, I may have had a quivering lip while I tried to stop my eyes leaking everywhere.

9/10

Here's a DVD copy available.
Americans can get it here.

Filmstruck Friday: White Heat (1949)

When this movie fan was a much younger, much smaller, and much more casual movie fan there were a few people who held my attention for reasons I didn't always understand at the time. I loved the main skits of Abbott & Costello, I think I had quite a crush on Doris Day, and I would watch James Cagney in anything. I also, apparently, ran to the TV when Peter Sissons was reading the news but that's neither here nor there.

I haven't watched a James Cagney movie in many years. In fact, I cannot think of any of his movies that I have revisited as an adult. Perhaps it was due to the sadness that wracked my soul every time the young me watched Angels With Dirty Faces, crying so hard at the finale that my mother would literally throw a towel at me to help me wipe my soaked face.

So I revisited White Heat with some trepidation. All I remembered about it was that it starred Cagney and had the famous ending with him exclaiming that he'd made it to the top of the world. But there's so much more to enjoy here.

Cagney is Cody Jarrett, a ruthless criminal with a master plan. He and his men rob a mail train and then bide their time. He then heads home and tells everyone to just stay calm before he heads to Illinois to confess to a different, lesser, crime that will get him a couple of years in prison. And if he is sentenced for that crime, which he is, then he assumes that the cops can't pin the train robbery on him. But the cops want Jarrett bad, so much so that they plant an undercover officer in his cell.

As well as his band of men, Jarrett also has a woman he loves (Virginia Mayo) and a mother he is very attached to (played by Margaret Wycherly). He also has occasional fits, usually best soothed by his mother. The guy has issues, proving time and time again that he's as unstable as he is conniving. And Cagney plays him perfectly throughout. He's often got a twinkle in his eye and smile, but just as often that twinkle signifies danger for those around him. White Heat is a film that is part gangster film and part tense thriller about an undercover officer trying to keep himself safe while on his mission, and it works so well because of the manic nature of Cagney juxtaposed alongside the calm demeanour of Edmond O'Brien, who plays the good guy. Mayo and Wycherly also give very good performances, damaging to Jarrett in different ways and making such strong impressions that they feel ever-present despite only being onscreen for maybe a quarter of the runtime.

Director Raoul Walsh has an extensive filmography (from Westerns to war films to much more, including a superb gangster film that paired Cagney with Humphrey Bogart, The Roaring Twenties) but this is, from what I have seen of his work, one of his very best. He doesn't shy away from the nastiness, using the charisma of Cagney to make the whole thing more palatable and entertaining than it otherwise could have been.

He's helped by a solid script from Ivan Goff and Ben Roberts, based on a story by Virginia Kellogg. Some may think that the material is handled clumsily, and there are certainly moments that let Cagney overact a bit, but it actually does a fantastic job of exploring the psyche of a scary individual while also ramping up the tension for a very satisfying third act.

A film very much deserving of the fine reputation it has, my enjoyment of White Heat means that I hope to not leave it so long until my next Cagney film viewing. I might even have to fall in love with Doris Day movies again. Maybe the younger, smaller, me actually had some taste. I'll stop short of waiting by my TV until Peter Sissons comes on to read the news though. Mainly because I assume he has retired by now.

9/10

You can shop around for a better price, but the blu is here.
Americans have this less shiny edition available.