Reeling Backward: "Blackboard Jungle"

"Blackboard Jungle" is an amazing film, but to me this is the most amazing: It was written, shot, edited and released in the space of three months.

It went on to become a watershed movie about youth violence. It launched the career of Vic Morrow, as the chief hoodlum, and gave a big boost to that of Sidney Poitier. Jamie Farr debuted as a slow-witted student. And it was one of Glenn Ford's better-known roles.

If that weren't enough, the last-minute prominent inclusion of Bill Haley & The Comets' "Rock Around the Clock" into the soundtrack was credited with helping launch rock 'n' roll.

How writer/director Richard Brooks (working from the novel by Evan Hunter) accomplished all that in 90 days is beyond me.

Seen today, it's still a gripping account of a well-meaning young teacher faced with a school full of problem kids who don't want to learn. The depiction of social unrest is rather dated -- the worst thing the miscreants do is steal a newspaper truck and beat up teachers -- but the dramatic tension of teachers vs. students has aged well.

There's been a long and often ignoble tradition of movies about teachers in rough schools, and "Blackboard Jungle" kicked it off. It got me to thinking that even over-the-top revenge fantasies like "The Substitute" and "187" are descendants of this film, though the nut has rolled pretty far downhill from the tree.

Ford plays Rick Dadier, a WWII vet who went to a girls' college on the GI Bill and is looking to launch his teacher career at North Manual High School. It's a rough inner-city school where the students all seem to wear greasy ducktail haircuts, leather jackets and perpetually smug expressions. The principal seems delusional in insisting that there's no disobedience problem at his school, as long as it doesn't come spilling in his door.

Things start right off the first day in the classroom when Dadier nearly has his head taken off by a hurled baseball. The crushed section of blackboard, looking a spider web, remains throughout the school year.

The chief troublemakers are Artie West (Morrow) and Greg Miller (Poitier), the leaders of the other boys. Dadier spends most of the movie under the mistaken impression that the two are in cahoots, when in fact they can't stand each other. Miller turns out to be a smart, hardworking kid who's just seen two many adults turn their back on his school, and him.

West is a straight-out criminal, organizing his gang to beat up Dadier and another teacher after they've been drinking in a bar. He even sends letters to Dadier's pregnant wife claiming he's having an affair with another teacher. One day Dadier accosts West on the street after seeing some of his gang knock over a truck. "This is my classroom out here," West warns. "And I'm gonna teach you."

Poitier and Morrow were both pushing 30 when they starred in the movie, which itself has become a long-standing cinematic tradition for films set in high schools. Poitier would go on to star in a similar movie himself -- this time as the teacher -- a dozen years later with "To Sir, with Love."

Louis Calhern has a nice supporting role as a veteran teacher who's given up all hope, but can't help rooting for his enterprising younger colleague. Richard Kiley plays a fellow rookie who isn't as successful in reaching out to his kids. There's a scene where he announces that he's going to bring his swing records into the classroom so his students can study the mathematical construction of the melody, and we already know what's coming.

Despite the slight staleness of the plot, "Blackboard Jungle" remains a riveting drama filled with some wonderful performances. Ford is especially touching as a frustrated guy who doesn't know whether to use compassion, violence, friendliness or some other tool in order to break through. In the end, he does it by showing them a movie.

3.5 stars

Reeling Backward: "Gilda"

"Gilda" is one of the ugliest movies I have ever seen, starring the most beautiful woman ever to grace a Hollywood screen.

When I say "Gilda" is ugly, I mean that it contains some of the darkest, most unattractive portrayals of human emotions I've ever seen. A recurring theme is that the three main characters hold onto their hatred for each other lovingly, even speaking openly about how the heat of hatred is exciting and keeps them warm.

The beautiful part is easy -- I have long considered Rita Hayworth to be the most gorgeous woman ever to star in the movies.

In "Shawshank Redemption," Red (played by Morgan Freeman) is watching "Gilda" and comments about her famous first appearance, where she flips her head up, bringing a cascade of dark curls: "I love when she does that shit with her hair."

"Gilda" was her most famous role, and her greatest curse. Married five times, Hayworth famously said, "Men fell in love with Gilda, but they wake up with me."

The story is about a pair of ex-lovers, both schemers and con artists. Johnny Farrell (Glenn Ford) is a gambler who uses dice for his grifts, while Gilda uses her feminine wiles. In the backstreets of Buenos Ares, Johnny is rescued from a robber by Ballin Mundson (George Macready), a strange man in a suit and wielding a cane with a sword blade hidden inside. Johnny soon learns that Ballin owns the biggest casino in the city, and soon he has become Ballin's right-hand man.

They agreed at the outset of their partnership that women and gambling do not mix, but Ballin returns from a trip with Gilda in tow, having undergone a quickie marriage the day after he met her. Little does he know that Johnny and his new bride have a past together -- and not a pleasant one.

The two begin a game of one-upmanship, a low-simmering feud that is destined to boil over. Johnny is given the job of watching after Gilda, who's the original party girl. She gleefully takes up with other men for one-night stands, mostly to get Johnny's goat. In one scene, she answers a pretty boy's come-on with the line, "If I were a ranch, they'd call be the Bar Nothing."

Usually in these sorts of movies, the couple trading barbs are simply masking their confused love for one another. Things eventually work out that way, but not until the very end. The bile that is exchanged between Johnny and Gilda is truly venomous. At one point after Ballin's apparent death, Johnny marries her to get control of his boss' business ventures, and then proceeds to essentially lock her up in her apartment.

Frankly, the finale where they go off together doesn't feel very convincing, given all the terrible things that have gone on between them. It feels like a happy ending tacked on by Hollywood mandate.

"Gilda" was directed by Charles Vidor from a screenplay by Marion Parsonnett. The similarities to "Casablanca," which came out four years earlier, are pretty obvious.

The protagonist is a roguish but ultimately decent guy who works in a casino, has to deal with trouble from Germans, and can't stand that the woman who broke his heart has walked into his gin joint. His best friend also works in the casino, although in this movie Johnny and Ballin have traded the boss/employee roles of Rick and Sam. There's even a wise-cracking casino employee, Uncle Pio, who needles his superiors. Even the exotic international setting, and a local constable of indeterminate morality, are in the mix.

I liked "Gilda," but more for Hayworth than the movie around her. The knockout scene where she sings "Put the Blame on Mame" while doing a sultry semi-striptease is nearly at the end of the movie, but well worth the wait. It truly was a star-making role, the ultimate femme fatale. Gilda, who never touches a gun, is the most dangerous one of all.

3 stars

Reeling Backward: "3:10 to Yuma"

It is a strange thing to experience a movie remake before the original film. That's how it went for me with "3:10 to Yuma," which was remade in 2007 starring Christian Bale and Russell Crowe. The 1957 original with Glenn Ford and Van Heflin was a respected Western, but isn't considered one of the giants of the genre. Certainly, its reputation does not come close to matching that other 1950s Westerns like "Shane," which starred Heflin in a similar role, or "High Noon," to which thematically and structurally "Yuma" owes a great debt.

After having finally seen it, I'd say that not only is the original superior to the remake, but "3:10 to Yuma" deserves a slot right up there with the best Westerns of its era.

In many ways, "Yuma" is more of a psychological thriller than a pure Western. Oh, there's plenty of gunplay and horse riding and all that. But the heart of the movie is a long sequence -- 45 minutes at least -- that takes place in a hotel bridal suite, where regular joe Dan Evans (Heflin) is standing guard over notorious outlaw Ben Wade (Glenn Ford) while waiting for the train that gives the film its title.

Wade's gang has been alerted to his presence, and gathers outside to spring their boss. Meanwhile, the hired guns bought by moneyman Butterfield decide they've had enough, and desert them, leaving only Dan, the fat Butterfield, and the town drunk Alex Potter (Harry Jones) to stand against Wade's men.

Dan is no lawman -- just a down-and-out rancher who needs the $200 bounty Butterfield has offered to any man who will bring Wade to justice, and put him on the train to the prison in Yuma. Much like his character in "Shane," Heflin plays a regular guy who feels compelled to stand up not just for justice, but to prove to his wife and two sons that he has what it takes.

In that hotel room, Wade needles and threatens Dan, offering him bribes that increase in size as the train's arrival time draws near. And Dan is clearly tempted -- at one point asking, "Are you sure nobody'll ever know?" It's only after Wade's men shoot the town drunk that his mind is made up.

That shooting scene is quite astonishing for its depiction. First, it showed the shooter and the victim in the same frame -- something you didn't see in Westerns prior to that time. Not only that, but Potter is shot in the back by one of Wade's men. And when he falls over, you can clearly see a smoking hole in the middle of his back. For 1957, this is pretty brutal stuff.

Glenn Ford gives one of his best performances as Ben Wade. There's a sly intelligence and sinister charm about him. After knocking off Butterfield's coach, he and his gang ride into the next town and inform the marshal about the robbery. After the posse takes off, Wade casually remains behind to woo the barmaid, played by Felicia Farr (who was Jack Lemmon's wife in real life).

In another bursting of the old Hollywood code, it's clearly implied that Wade and the barmaid have sex. He is shown coming in from the back of the bar, arranging his clothes, and she emerges a few seconds later. Again, one has to think of this in the context of cinematic portrayals of the time -- even dissolving on a couple kissing and then fading in with them anywhere near a bed was considered scandalous.

One of the things I did really like in the remake was the performance of Ben Foster as Charlie Prince, Wade's sadistic lieutenant. In the original, Prince was played by Richard Jaeckel, who had a long career playing a tough guy on film and television. In both cases, there's a devotion to Wade that borders on the homoerotic -- though obviously less overtly in the 1957 version.

"3:10 to Yuma" was directed by Delmer Daves, based on a story by Elmore Leonard, and the excellent cinematography was by Charles Lawton Jr.

3.5 stars

Reeling Backward: "Destroyer"

"Destroyer" is a pretty conventional bit of World War II propaganda. It's amazing to think now about how the movie industry was turned to promoting the war effort. I'm not sure if people even stopped and thought about it -- back then, everybody assumed we were all in it together.

Can you imagine our modern-day entertainment industry cranking out films supporting the American military presence in Iraq and Afghanistan, one after another, almost from the day our troops set foot in the Middle East? The very idea is ludicrous.

Back then, movie stars also joined the military in droves, or at least flew around selling war bonds and other such things. After making "Destroyer," Glenn Ford enlisted with the Marines, where he spent the war working as a motion picture technician and hosting a radio program.

Up until then, Ford's film career was nothing to shake a stick at. After the war he came back with "Gilda," his big breakthrough role. (On a side note, I've had "Gilda" DVR'd for awhile now, and keep meaning to get to it. But for whatever reason, I've had a hankering for war pictures recently.)

It's interesting to think of Glenn Ford as a young man, and playing a character who's cocky and headstrong. The star persona of Ford is of a man who's middle-aged but still physically capable, with deep convictions and sense of honor, who believes in thinking before acting -- basically, he was Dad. But perhaps I'm conditioned to think of him that way, since like most people of my generation my first experience with Glenn Ford was playing the father in "Superman."

Here he plays Mickey Donohue, a naval chief who butts head with Steve "Boley" Boleslvaski (Edward G. Robinson), a tough old sailor who's just come out of retirement to fight in the war. Boley served aboard the first destroyer John Paul Jones during WWI, and became a shipbuilder who helped oversee the construction of her replacement. When he learns that the ship will be commanded by an officer he used to serve with, he agrees to re-enlist.

Things don't go smoothly for Boley. He has the right ideas about how to keep a crew tight and orderly, but he's simply so far behind the times that he keeps lousing things up. He orders the gun crews to keep their sights right on target aircraft, rather than leading them, because he never had to fight against airplanes in the first World War. He doesn't even know that the new artillery guns are loaded from the breech, not from the muzzle.

Eventually Boley gets busted down in rank, and now must report to Donohue, his arch-enemy. Little does he know that the much younger Donohue has been wooing his daughter (Marguerite Chapman) during shore leave.

At one point it appears that the new John Paul Jones is a cursed ship, and gets reassigned to mail-carrying duty. A bunch of the crewman request to transfer off, and Robinson gives a rousing speech where he invokes the story of the ship's namesake. Of course, they decide to stay on. Because that's the way things were back then -- or at least, how Hollywood would like us to think it was.

3 stars