Chester Morris

  • Three Godfathers (1936)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, January 2020) While probably best remembered as the precursor to the 1948 feature film starring John Wayne, this earlier version of Three Godfathers (the fifth of seven recognized adaptations of the original novel) does have a few interesting features compared to the later, better-known version. It starts with a rather long prologue in which the three titular men are introduced against a backdrop of civilization. From their interactions with citizens of a small town in the American west, it’s clear that the protagonists are scum—a liar, a cheat, a thief and a killer. The story gets going after the gang of three completes a bank robbery and goes off in the desert, where they find a dying woman and her baby. Tasked with bringing the baby to safety, they find themselves in desperate circumstances, miles away from water and civilization. Much of the film is an elimination contest, as those bad men (headlined by Chester Morris, Lewis Stone, and Walter Brennan) sacrifice themselves to save their charge, all the way to a melodramatic and rather satisfying finale. While not without lulls and technical limitations, I found this version of the story far more satisfying than the watered-down 1948 version that I saw immediately after this one. (I also attempted to record Hell’s Heroes, an earlier version of the story, for a triple bill… but the DVR ate it.)  It’s got a better redemption arc, more interesting material in the prologue and an unspectacular black-and-white cinematography that focuses more on the moralistic aspects of the tale than its place as a western.

  • The Big House (1930)

    The Big House (1930)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) There’s something almost comforting in reaching ninety years in the past and finding a film not so different from what we’d see on-screen right now. So it is that The Big House is a quasi-prototypical prison movie, already dealing in well-worn tropes barely two years after the introduction of sound in cinema. The technical credentials are occasionally crude, but there’s no denying a certain cinematic ambition in the use of miniatures, camera movements and overall direction—the prison cafeteria scenes may or may not have influenced White Heat, but they’re handled with a grace that goes beyond flat static shots and into something definitely more daring. No wonder that this manly muscular action drama was nominated for an early Best Picture Academy Award. Story-wise, there isn’t much here, what with its “innocent” hero (who still killed someone while driving drunk—something almost unforgivable today) being a victim of hardened criminals and tough prison warden. The ending prison riot sequence is definitely ambitious, though, what with army tanks getting involved in putting it down. The acting is strictly early-thirties stuff (with Chester Morris and Wallace Beery doing what they knew best), still a bit influenced by the silent-movie methods. Still, for all of its familiar bluntness, there’s a certain charm to The Big House, and definitely a viewing pleasure. Further proof that well-executed tales can be timeless, even when they’re extremely familiar.