Ralph Meeker Night On TCM

I just found out that Turner Classic Movies is dedicating tonight's prime time schedule to forgotten tough guy Ralph Meeker. Meeker (1920-1988) is best known for his definitive take on Mickey Spillane's iconic detective, Mike Hammer, in 1955's Kiss Me Deadly. If you haven't seen the film, do so... now! The DVD appears to be out of print in the U.S., so TCM's your best bet.

Ralph Meeker's Mike Hammer is one bad man. He wears a naturally menacing leer on his smug mug and doesn't hesitate to manhandle an elderly desk clerk, slap, punch, and shove a thug down a flight of steps, tell a nosy old woman to shut up, or snap a valuable Caruso record in half in front of its owner's eyes. And he's the hero of the film! Kiss Me Deadly is such a dark film with some genuinely disturbing imagery. Much has been written about the film's subtext and meaning, but I avoid delving too deeply into those things because I’m tired of having my favorite films drained of their vitality through turgid analysis. I can only say that the movie is an atmospheric masterpiece, with great performances from well-known character actors (Paul Stewart, Jack Elam, Albert Dekker) rising stars (Cloris Leachman in her film debut), and unknown players (Maxine Cooper and Gaby Rogers) who seemed to exist solely within the film.

"I don't care who I pummel, just so I'm dishin' out some hurt!"

Meeker's brilliant portrayal of Mike Hammer is sacred to me. And because of his absolute mastery of this role, I have purposely avoided reading anything about his private life---wouldn't want to spoil the image (heck, Noir nasty men Dan Duryea and Richard Widmark were dedicated family men!) I have of him. So partly because of my own choosing, Ralph Meeker remains a mysterious figure to me. I never saw him in anything before I saw Kiss Me Deadly, but have seen his work in a few films, like the Barbara Stanwyck vehicle Jeopardy (1953) as well as his brief role in another gritty movie, the Frank Sinatra film, The Detective (1968). He also appears in a childhood favorite of mine, Kiss Me Deadly director Robert Aldrich's The Dirty Dozen (1967). I’ve also seen some of his many TV appearances from the 1970s, but Ralph Meeker will forever be etched in my memory as Mike Hammer.

TCM airs Kiss Me Deadly tonight at 11:30pm (est.) along with:

8:00 pm- Paths of Glory (1957)

10:00 pm- Big House U.S.A. (1955)

1:30 am- Glory Alley (1952)

3:00am- Desert Sands (1955)

I no longer get TCM and I haven't seen those last three movies, so you'll get the "Meeker Edge" on me if you see them.

Random Raves: His Girl Friday (1940)

Five years ago, I gave up watching His Girl Friday twenty minutes into it. The rapid-fire dialogue was “distracting”, the plot “dragged”, so I just tuned out. A subsequent attempt at watching it a year or so later also failed. I watched it all, and was bored silly.


What a dope I was!


I’m a recent convert to this film and considering the talent involved with it, that’s surprising: Howard Hawks is among my favorite directors--El Dorado (1967) is my favorite film of all time-- Cary Grant is brilliant in everything I’ve ever seen him in, and Rosalind Russell’s career was made with her performance, though I first became smitten with her after seeing her take bitchiness to the highest plane in The Women (1939). So two years ago I gave the film another chance. By then, I had become familiar with Screwball Comedies and had seen a number of 1930s movies in general and had loved them. This time around I was immediately pulled into the plot, I was enamored with the characters, and the dialogue was brilliant. The film was always great; I just wasn’t ready for it before.

A brief synopsis: His Girl Friday begins as former reporter Hildy Johnson, now divorced from her husband and editor, Walter Burns (Cary Grant), stops by the newspaper offices to inform Walter of her impending marriage to ho-hum insurance salesman Bruce Baldwin (Ralph Bellamy). Walter, always trying to influence Hildy, urges her to come back to the paper and remarry him. The two strong-willed professionals pick up where they left off, with biting verbal exchanges delivered in wonderful, machine-gun fashion. Hildy is intent on marrying Bruce, but when a big story breaks, she and Walter get pulled into the maelstrom, and Hildy must decide if she will start a new life with Bruce, or if her life and career with Walter matters most while bedlam breaks out around her.

His Girl Friday, like legendary composer Duke Ellington, is “Beyond Category.” The film's reputation is as a comedy even though it has some dramatic moments, it manages to stretch across the boundaries and entertain as both. Like real life. I'm not big on plots, because a film's main draw for me is its characters. Actors who react to one another and who are so natural in their characterizations that they’re not acting at all. They don’t speak the lines, they mean them! It’s why I love Golden Age pairings like Tracy-Hepburn, Bogart-Bacall, Powell-Loy, Grant-Hepburn, and now, Grant-Russell. It’s two characters responding to each other and we are quickly clued into their past relationship, everything we know about that relationship is further emphasized with each great line of dialogue. Grant trades in the sometimes-awkward, klutzy leading man of The Awful Truth and Holiday, and replaces it with a domineering, sometimes dark side of the Grant persona in the Walter Burns character (which would best be seen in Hitchcock’s Notorious). Beginning with His Girl Friday, Grant was to embark on a series of great roles himself. Director Howard Hawks’ set was fast and loose, with Hawks allowing improvisation from his players. Grant’s dialogue with Russell was often made up on the spot, with Russell employing a writer to provide her with her own “improvised” retorts to Grant’s barbs.


It was surprising to discover that the film’s star, Rosalind (aka "Roz") Russell (1907-1976) failed to earn an Academy Award Nomination for Best Actress. 1940 was a competitive year for Best Actress, but I took it for granted that I’d see Russell’s name on the list of nominees, seeing as the film has earned decades of praise and namedropping-- Not a chance! As a matter of fact, the film itself didn’t get nominated for Best Picture and this was during a time when there were ten films per year up for the big prize. I’ve seen all the Best Actress nominees’ films and none of those performances can surpass Rosalind Russell’s brilliance in His Girl Friday. In fact, the movie stands as Rosalind Russell’s defining moment on film (as far as I’m concerned, her latter-career role in Auntie Mame (1958) runs a distant second).

Of all the things that are great about His Girl Friday, its best attribute is Rosalind Russell’s performance as Hildy Johnson. It's wonderfully played and impossible to imagine anyone else in the role. Among the noted actresses who turned down the part: Ginger Rogers, Jean Arthur (who didn’t like working with Hawks), Carole Lombard, Claudette Colbert, and Irene Dunne. It’s shocking, considering how good a showcase the role was and Hawks’ sterling reputation as an A-List director. The Hildy Johnson role is the typical Hawksian dame. Witness her triumphant return to the newspaper office. Among the male reporters, she’s “one of the boys”, yet she’s feminine without being feminist and tough without being hard. Hildy never cries foul because of her gender and it’s never an issue. She’s capable of taking care of herself, and not gullible, never falling for Walter’s stock lines and gives just as good as she gets. She does have one great moment of vulnerability and--without spoiling the ending-- it pulls together the most important element of the story, characterwise, and it lets the viewer know even more about Hildy and her dilemma. It's a beautiful realization of the two leads' relationship and stands as one of the best moments in the film by who I consider the "real" Best Actress of 1940, Rosalind Russell, in a movie I had to watch three times in order to appreciate its many charms.

James Stewart: A Veterans Day Salute

On this Veterans Day, Hollywood Dreamland, in its own small way, would like to honor the service of all veterans who have served their country. James Stewart was one of the many who answered their country's call.

James Stewart (1908-1997) was already an Oscar-winning actor and had been a pilot of his own plane beginning in the mid-1930s when he enlisted in the United States Army Air Force (USAAF) in March, 1941. He had previously been rejected for service due to his insufficient weight (Stewart was under the 148lb minimum weight requirement) the previous year and gained the weight through a workout program with the help of an MGM trainer, Don Loomis. Stewart joined the USAAF as a private and earned a Second Lieutenant's commission in 1942. After several months of training bombardiers and B-17 pilots in New Mexico, Stewart was finally assigned to a bombing group in 1943.

In 1944, Stewart was assigned to the 454th Bombardment Group, his unit flew the B-24 Liberator in air operations over Germany. By then, he had attained the rank of Major. The number of official missions flown by Stewart’s wing is twenty, but he ordered numerous missions over Nazi Germany kept uncounted. By the end of the war, James Stewart had reached the rank of Colonel, with several decorations including the Distinguished Flying Cross (twice), and the Air Force Medal with Three Oak Leaf Clusters.

He was also admired by his peers. From Citizen Soldiers by Stephen E. Ambrose:

"A special favorite was Maj. James Stewart, the actor already famous for parts in The Philadelphia Story and Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. Stewart enlisted as a private, made his way into pilot training school, and earned his wings. The Air Force knew he was a good flyer but didn't want to risk him, so he was assigned to the staff. He insisted on flying. He bacame a squadron commander. One of his pilots, Lt. Hal Turrell, said of Stewart: 'He was a wonderful human being and excelled as a command pilot..He never grandstanded by picking missions. If our group led the wing, he flew.'

Stewart would remain involved with the Air Force Reserve and was promoted to Brigadier general in 1959. During the Vietnam War, Stewart flew in a B-52 bomber as an observer. He refused to let the story be reported. James Stewart retired from the Air Force in 1968, after twenty-seven years of service.

It staggers the mind that a man who had everything to lose would ditch his movie career--at its peak--and answer his country's call. I cannot imagine any actor today (NFL player Pat Tillman is the exception) setting his career aside to join the armed forces full time, volunteer for combat duty, and proceed to remain involved with that service for nearly thirty years. Stewart's service, and the other Hollywood legends who worked in some capacity (Robert Montgomery, Clark Gable, and John Ford, to name but a few) never gave it a second thought and enlisted, helping in any way they could. They could have sat out the war and continued to pad their bank accounts and add more Oscars to their shelves, but sacrificed their careers and risked their lives to serve their country.

Katharine Hepburn: Holiday (1938)

Holiday (1938) was Katharine Hepburn’s first film based on a Philip Barry play and followed her roles in the ensemble hit Stage Door and the overlooked (and eventual classic), Bringing Up Baby, both from 1937. These films came in the midst of Hepburn’s “Box Office Poison” period when in the spring of 1938, Hepburn (along with Joan Crawford, Fred Astaire, and Mae West) was listed by Harry Brandt, president of the Independent Theater Owners of America, as being among the stars whose films guaranteed poor box-office sales. Holiday also had the misfortune of getting overshadowed by Hepburn’s “comeback” effort, the most-famous Philip Barry play, The Philadelphia Story, a successful 1939 Broadway stage hit and a popular film in 1940, earning The Great Kate her third Academy Award nomination. Holiday doesn’t quite reach the heights of The Philadelphia Story, but it comes tantalizingly close.

(Virtually) Spoiler-Free Synopsis: Holiday concerns free spirit and nonconformist Johnny Case (Cary Grant). Johnny comes from a humble family in Baltimore but has the potential to become a successful businessman. However, he feels that there is more to life than earning money. He meets Julia Seton (Doris Nolan) at a Lake Placid ski resort just before Christmas. The two begin a whirlwind romance and plan to marry the following January. Unbeknownst to Johnny, Julia is from a wealthy and influential east coast family. Julia brings Johnny to the family’s stately mansion to meet her family. Her father, Edward is a chronically straight-laced businessman who is so organized and controlling that he owns the tobacco plantation the cigars he smokes come from. Julia’s brother, Ned (Lew Ayres; who's great here), is a heavy drinker disinterested in his duly-appointed position at the family investment firm. And then there's Linda (Hepburn), Julia’s elder sister who acts as madcap and carefree as Johnny, but who has a sad, tragic aspect to her. The Seton children’s mother, who was the heart of the family, died some years before. The movie chronicles Johnny’s attempts at convincing Julia and her father that he needs to explore life before sacrificing his freedom for a successful, but stultifying business career.

What makes Holiday (aka: “Unconventional Linda”; so the film is about her!) so rewarding is Katharine Hepburn’s performance as the idealistic, romantic Linda. She’s clearly the black sheep of the family. She has romantic ideals, but doesn’t possess the will to go through with them. She’s occasionally melodramatic and melancholy but also possesses a quick wit, trading humorous barbs with Johnny--the amusing “sheep and goat” routine typifies their great rapport. Linda and Johnny also share the same negative view of money worship (Linda: “Don’t you know that money is our God?”). Yet underneath it all, Linda suffers from emotional problems, which are explained away by Edward and Julia as Linda having one of her “headaches”, an excuse used when her proposed engagement party for Johnny and Julia’s engagement is rejected in favor of the formal affair her father organizes. Linda has preserved the family’s upstairs play room, where she reflects on those long-lost days. Linda's internal suffering is effectively and sympathetically realized by Hepburn. She is nostalgic, the playroom is preserved like a shrine. It is was once the center for family activity: her late mother played piano, Ned began work on his concerto and Linda painted. The room ceased to flourish after the Seton matriarch’s death.

Grant and Hepburn on the set of Holiday with director George Cukor

Hepburn’s role is similar to a number of her 1930s performances (Alice Adams comes to mind). She’s more sympathetic and does not yet embody the steely source of strength and independence that would define most Hepburn characters in subsequent decades. The Linda Seton character is quite unlike her iconic performances in better-known roles such as Tracy in The Philadelphia Story or Tess in Woman of the Year. Holiday is centered on Johnny Case's choice, but it is Hepburn's movie. She is the emotional center of the film and gets to shine under director George Cukor's steady hand. Her performance is entirely convincing. I know it's cliché to say this, but Hepburn becomes Linda Seton. I'm discovering that Hepburn's best 1930s performances all have this quality where she immerses herself into the character. I'm not saying that other actors from this time period don't, but Hepburn is the first actress who made me notice, and I didn't realize it until I reflected on the movie some time later! Watching Katharine Hepburn in Holiday makes me wish she would have revisited the fragile, delicate side of her persona more often in her post-Philadelphia Story career.