By the Skin of Your Teeth

A pre-Code movie that by today’s standards might not seem all that controversial, but would not have made it to theatres just one year later (when the Production Code started to be enforced), 1933's Torch Singer, directed by Alexander Hall and George Somnes, provides an intriguing snapshot of the time. Centred on a strong female performance (something less rare than you might expect for the 1930s) by Claudette Colbert, she plays Sally Trent, a young woman who quickly slept with her first love. . . only to find out she’s pregnant. Pause!

Talk about a buildup. . . starting with the First World War, then came the Second World War, it all leading to. . . The War of the Worlds!!! A gargantuan and ballsy way to introduce your film, these black and white reels from the first half of the twentieth century give way to garish colours of the Atomic Age in Byron Haskin’s modernized 1953 take on the iconic H.G. Wells novel. Controlled by ambitious producer George Pal (who both produced and directed The Time Machine), he obtained the material after it sat on legendary director Cecil B. DeMille’s desk for some three decades (it was always a dream project for him). Bringing in a talented team of creative individuals, it was longtime special effects man turned director Byron Haskin who was his choice.

As light and frivolous as a wispy summer cloud meandering across a baby blue sky, 1956's The Girl Can’t Help It, written and directed by Frank Tashlin, though perhaps at first glance not as influential (or known) as its very similar cousin from the previous year, The Seven Year Itch, is an entertaining musical comedy that had a huge impact on pop culture. . . though intriguingly not on the movie industry (but more on that later). Flipping the script slightly from the Billy Wilder classic, Tom Ewell plays a similarly twitchy man, an alcoholic press agent, Tom Miller, who ironically thinks himself an adonis despite his rather frail, nervous demeanor around women. Instead of being slightly bored in a staid marriage, he has instead lost his chance at telling his former singing sensation client Julie London (as herself) that he was falling for her – she has now moved on to bigger and better things.

If you’ve delved into the world of film noir, you’ve likely seen a number of unusual ones. . . some may be set in other countries, or in a winter wonderland (a far cry from the expected asphalt jungle that is Los Angeles), even a nuclear bomb can be found in a mid 50s example. . . yet one set during the holiday season? That’s right, 1944's Christmas Holiday, directed by the great Robert Siodmak (Phantom Lady; Criss Cross), might mislead a few with its title (but more on that later). A vehicle for two very unexpected stars for this type of picture, Deanna Durbin (a name perhaps less known today), was a child actor turned girl next door who is often credited with helping save Universal Studios during the Great Depression. Close to bankruptcy, the teenage star took the world by storm, her musical numbers a massive draw in features like Three Smart Girls (at the age of only 14) and One Hundred Men and a Girl, it all leading to an Academy Juvenile Award in 1938. Her first role in which she attempted to break out of this child-like ingenue typecasting, you might be able to guess that there were many who were shocked and unimpressed by this new Durbin.

Sometimes you just can’t catch a break. As if fate itself is against you, the dominoes fall, one at a time, each bringing with it another problem that places you in a further bind. Increasingly more Desperate (1947), you have to measure every step appropriately, for the tagline dramatically suggests, “MURDER at any moment! SUSPENSE. . . in every step!!!”. A film noir directed by Anthony Mann (he is also co-credited for the story along with Dorothy Atlas), our unlucky man is Steve Randall (Steve Brodie), a vet who has just returned from World War 2. Though he has married and found a job (as a truck driver), the next domino falls when a wily criminal gang, led by Walt Radak (Raymond Burr – yes, Perry Mason himself), reaches out to him for his driving skills and giant vehicle (on his anniversary, no less).

A man, scorned by his ungrateful wife on their anniversary (he had front row tickets to a well reviewed live show), buries his head in alcohol at the local bar, only to stumble into a mysterious thirty-something woman in an equally sour mood (she does have quite a fabulous hat on though). Deciding to go to the show together (with the caveat that they are not to divulge their names to each other), it is a wonderful evening that buoys their spirits a bit. A seemingly serendipitous love story. . . the only problem, said man returns home to find three detectives in his living room waiting for him, as his wife has been strangled to death by some necktie wielding maniac. The introduction to the 1944 film noir crime drama Phantom Lady, directed by Robert Siodmak (and based on a Cornell Woolrich novel of the same name – under his pseudonym William Irish), Scott Henderson (Alan Curtis) is the unlucky chap mentioned above. His only alibi. . . the unknown woman, who will be so elusive that he will start to wonder if he simply imagined her (it doesn’t help that he cannot remember the woman in finer detail since learning of his wife’s murder).