In The Matter Of The Centennial
Of The Birth Of Film Actor, Noir Film Actor, Robert Mitchum (2017)
By Lance Lawrence
Film Editor Emeritus Sam Lowell is like something out of a film noir which he
has always been fascinated by ever since he was a kid down in cranberry bog
Carver south of Boston and would catch the Saturday matinee double-headers at
the Bijou Theater (now long gone and replaced by a cinematic mega-plex out on
Route 28 in one of the long line of strip malls which dot that road). That
fascination had a name, The Maltese
Falcon, starring rugged chain-smoking tough guy Humphrey Bogart as a no
nonsense, well almost no nonsense, private detective, who almost got
skirt-crazy, almost got catch off guard by some vagrant jasmine scent from a
femme over the matter of an extremely valuable bejeweled bird which the theater
owner, Sean Riley, would occasionally play in a retrospective series that he
ran to keep expenses down some weeks rather than take in the latest films from
the studios.
The reason that I, Sandy
Salmon, current film critic at the American
Left History blog and also at the on-line American Film Gazette can call the old curmudgeon Sam Lowell “something
out of a film noir” is because once he decided to retire from the day to day
hassle of reviewing a wide range of current and past films he contrived to get
me to take his place on the blog along with my other by-line. That based on our
years together as rivals and friends at the Gazette.
He did this “putting himself out to
pasture” as he called it to the blog’s moderator, Peter Paul Markin, when he
mentioned the subject of retirement with the proviso that he could contribute
occasional “think” pieces as films or other events came up and curdled his interest.
I had no particular objection to that arrangement since it is fairly standard
in the media industry and is an arrangement that I would likewise want to take
up in my soon to come retirement from the day to day grind. (To that end I am
grooming an associate film critic Alden Riley for that eventuality.)
This business all came
tumbling down on my head recently after he had read somewhere, maybe the Boston Globe, yes, I think it was that
newspaper that the centennial of the
birth great actor, great film noir actor,
Robert Mitchum, was at hand. Without giving me a heads up he, Sam,
decided that he wanted to do a “think” piece on this key noir figure and
someone whose performances in things like Out
Of The Past, Cape Fear, and Night Of
The Hunter were the stuff of cinematic legend. But you see I wanted, once I
became aware of the centennial to write something to honor Mitchum although I
have the modesty not to call it a “think” piece. My idea, as was Sam’s in the
end, had been to write about that incredible role he played as a low key
private eye in Out Of The Past
against the dangers of a gun-addled femme. We resolved the dispute if you want
to call it resolved by having “dueling” appreciations of that classic film.
Sam’s potluck article has already been published and now I get my say. Enough
said.
I will say one thing for
Sam although I would have noted it myself in any case that both our headlines speaks
of a film noir actor although Micthum did many more types of films from goof
stuff like the Grass Is Greener where
he played some kind of rich oil man adrift in England and infatuated by some
nobleman’s wife and Heaven Help Mr.
Allison where he got all flirty with a fellow marooned nun to truly scary
can’t go to sleep at night without a revolver under the pillow stuff like Cape Fear to the world weary, world wary
former standup guy pasty/fall guy in the
film adaptation of George V. Higgin’s The Friends Of Eddie Coyle. That said to
my mind, as to Sam’s his classic statement of his acting persona came in the
great performance he did in Out Of The Past where between
being in the gun sights of an angry gangster played by Kirk Douglas and the gun
sights of a gun crazy femme played by Jane Greer he had more than enough to
handle.
Yeah, if you think about
it, think about other later non-goof, do it for the don’t go back to the “from
hunger” days paycheck vehicles he starred that film kind of said it all about a
big brawny barrel-chested guy who had been around the block awhile, had smoked
a few thousand cigarettes while trying to figure out all the angles and still
in the end got waylaid right between the eyes by that damn femme. All she had
to do was call his name and he wilted like some silly schoolboy. I like a guy
who likes to play with fire, likes to live on the edge a little but our boy got
caught up badly by whatever that scent, maybe jasmine, maybe spring lilac but
poison that he could never get out of his nostrils once she went into
over-drive.
Sam in his review went
out of his way to make Mitchum’s character, Jeff, let’s just call him Jeff
since for safety reasons he had other aliases seem like, well, seem like the
typical “from hunger” guy who got wrapped up in a blanket with a dizzy dame and
that his whole freaking life led to that fatal shot from that fatal gun from
that femme fatale. She had a name, Kathie, nice and fresh and wholesome name
but nothing but fire and fiery although Sam insists that it could have been any
one of a thousand dames as long as she had long legs, ruby red lips and was
willing to mess up the sheets a bit. Yeah, Jeff as just another from nowhere
guy who got caught between a rock and a hard place.
No, a thousand time no.
Robert Mitchum, ah, Jeff in those scenes has those big eyes wide open from the
minute he hits Mexico, no, the minute he got the particulars from Whit, from
his new employer of the moment he was no fall guy but a guy playing out his
hand, maybe well, maybe badly but playing the thing out just as he always had
done since he was a kid. (Sam, maybe reflecting his own “from hunger”
up-bringing in working class cranberry bog Carver if you look at his reviews of
those luscious black and white films from the 1940s and 1950s that he feasted on
always overplayed that fateful “from hunger” aspect of a male character’s
persona, a failing to see beyond his won youth in many cases beyond his fatal
error here)
As Sam would say here is
the play, the right way to see Mitchum’s cool as ice character. Whit, a shady
businessman, hell, call him by his right name, a gangster, a hood, played by
cleft-chinned Kirk Douglas wanted to hire Jeff (and by indirection his partner
Fisher who will undercut him reminding me of that friction between Sam Spade
and Miles Archer although Sam wound up doing right by his old partner Fisher
just bought the farm trying to move in on Jeff’s business) to find his
girlfriend who left him high and dry minus a cool forty thousand and plus a
little bullet hole as a reminder that not all women are on the level. The
minute Jeff heard the particulars he was in, not for the dough, although dough
is a good reason to take on a job in any profession including his, private
detection, but to see what kind of dish ran away from a good-looking, rich guy
with plenty of sex appeal and a place to keep her stuck in the good life. Sam
missed the whole idea that Jeff already had a head of steam for this elusive
Kathie before he went out the door of Whit’s mansion (or whatever her name really
was played by sultry sexy, long-legged, ruby red-lipped ready for a few satin
sheet tumbles Jane Greer).
For a professional
detective Kathie was not hard to find, maybe intentionally if she had Whit
figured out which I think she did, and you could palpably feel the tension as
Jeff waited to meet his quarry. If you followed the way he was thinking, if you
in this case followed the scent that you would have known that Jeff was no more
a victim of some bad childhood that I was. Everything follows from that first
prescient presence in that run-down wreak of a cantina and those first drinks
between them. The sheets followed as night follows day as did the plans they
had to flee from whatever dastardly deeds Whit would do once he knew that a
real man had taken his pet away-without flinching. The key was the dodge Jeff,
remember it was Jeff who led the misdirection when Whit showed up in sunny
Mexico wondering what the fuck was going on. Jeff had them in Frisco town
before you say goodbye. Nice work.
Hey Jeff knew, knew as
any man knew who had been wide awake after the age of thirteen knew, that his
grip on Kathie unlike the later tryst with good girl Anne once he had to go
into exile when Kathie flipped her wig, would only last as long as he could
keep her interested. I will grant Sam this that maybe Jeff should have been a
little more leery of what crazy moves Kathie could make when she was cornered,
maybe should have thought through a little better why she put a slug in Whit
just for the hell of it. But in his defense Jeff was playing his hand out and
it was just too much bad luck that his old partner Fisher got on his trail. Got
on his trail, and hers, which she stopped cold when she put the rooty-toot-toot
to Fisher. Then blew town leaving Jeff to pick up her mess.
Did Jeff call copper,
did he go crying on his knees to Whit. No he went into exile waiting for the
next move, waiting to see what Kathie would come up with next. He may have
built him a nice little gas station business in Podunk, have gotten a dewy
fresh maiden in Anne but anybody could see once he was exposed by one of Whit’s
operatives he played his hand out to the very end. Went to see what was what
including learning of Kathie’s opportunistic return to Whit’s embrace. And her
return to his embrace. Of course such a course was bound to not turn out very
well for anybody. Whit wasted by Kathie and then Jeff wasted by her as well
once he knew the game was up. Don’t make though too much of that play at the
very end when Anne asks Jeff’s deaf gas station employee whether he was really
ready to leave everything for Kathie and the kid said yes. Yes with the
implication that Jeff did the whole play to spare Anne. No, that is too pat
Jeff wanted to go with Kathie, wanted to play with fire, knew that the game was
up and just didn’t care any longer as long as he was with Kathie. Couldn’t Sam
see in Jeff, in Robert Mitchum’s, eyes that he didn’t care what she did, that
was the way it was between them. No fall guy there.
I don’t know about Sam
but I am ready to move on to speak out about other major Mitchum films. I agree
with Sam those payday check films in a career where he played in over one
hundred are not worth blowing any smoke about but there are still plenty worthy
of attention. More later.
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