It probably won't come as a surprise to longtime readers that I was tracking and reviewing movies long before I had an internet account or a blog. Way back in August 1976 my parents took me to see this film at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art's Leo S. Bing Theater, after which I gave it a one-star review, writing "Very strange; don't bother to see it again."
Well, having seen thousands of movies in the intervening 43-plus years, I thought it was time to disregard that admonition and come back to this film for a fresh look in a new context. And indeed, there's something very "full circle" about returning to this film the exact same month that the Leo S. Bing Theater was sadly demolished.
My 2020 verdict? I liked the film marginally better; this time I think I'd give it two stars thanks to Fred MacMurray, Helen Walker, and a few clever bits. All in all, though, this just isn't my kind of comedy.The problem is not so much that the movie is goofy -- if you like glow-in-the-dark dogs, this is the film for you! -- it's that it's almost plotless. Indeed, dialogue matters so little that I was thinking as I watched maybe it should have been a silent film! I can only watch people beating each other up or chasing each other around for so long before growing restless. In any event, it's way, way too long at 91 minutes; it should have been cut off at 70.
MacMurray starred in this film the year following his lead in the seminal classic DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944). He plays Pete Marshall, a genial pollster who has the misfortune to show up at the Fleagle house deep in the woods. For a man fending off death almost from the moment the movie begins, MacMurray's Pete is amazingly sanguine about the whole experience; he wants out, but he plays the role for laughs rather than terror.
Pete is introduced to Grandma (Mabel Paige), who privately confides to him on her deathbed (while she, incidentally, glows in the dark) something about the location of $70,000. The murderous Fleagles must then keep Pete alive long enough to find out where the loot is stashed. Meanwhile Claire Matthews (Walker) shows up, pretending to be long-jailed relative Bonnie, and she and Pete join forces to try to find the money and survive the Fleagles.
This hillbilly terror movie is so bizarre it's almost hard to figure out why Paramount Pictures released it. The script was by Lou Breslow, from a story by Jack Moffitt; Breslow later cowrote and directed another strange but much more successful film, YOU NEVER CAN TELL (1951), in which Dick Powell played a dog reincarnated as a detective solving his own murder!The movie was directed by George Marshall, who made all sorts of movies in his long career. It was shot in black and white by Theodor Sparkuhl.
The Kino Lorber Blu-ray, from a new 4K master, looks absolutely fabulous, so this film's fans -- and believe it or not, there seem to be many! -- will be delighted. It might not have been the film for me, but I'm glad I tried it out again in this beautiful print, looking its very best.
The disc includes the trailer and a four-film Kino Lorber trailer gallery.
I may listen to the commentary track by Michael Schlesinger and Stan Taffel to gain some more insight into why this film tickles the funnybone of so many viewers. Schlesinger is a historian I very much admire, and as a matter of fact my husband and I had a nice chat with him in January before a screening of NIGHT TRAIN TO MUNICH (1940). Taffel is also an important figure in the L.A. classic film community, producing the wonderful Cinecon festival on Labor Day weekend.For anyone trying to figure out whether or not this film is their cup of tea, here are takes on this film by a couple other reviewers: Check out Mike Clark at Media Play News ("the most twisted Hollywood comedy I know from the 1940s") and Charlie Largent for CineSavant/Trailers From Hell ("a conflation of Looney Tunes nonsense and Southern Gothic that has never been equaled").
Thanks to Kino Lorber for providing a review copy of this Blu-ray.
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