Joan Leslie

  • Cinderella Jones (1946)

    (On Cable TV, November 2022) The nice thing about once-popular movie genres is that if you like the classics in that category, there’s plenty more to enjoy. Light-hearted but meaningless Cinderella Jones, for instance, is clearly not a great musical. But it is a musical, so if you like the tone (and are ready to overlook a few execution issues), then you’ve got a perfectly fun little movie that plays well even if it leaves no great impression. Here, we have Joan Leslie as a likable but dim singer who discovers she’s the heir to a fortune… if she can meet the conditions of the will and marry a certifiable genius. Given that this is a musical, the next logical step is, of course, to enroll in an elite all-male college to find a suitor. For a film directed by Busby Berkeley, the “musical” aspect of this musical comedy is lacking—there isn’t much here in terms of dancing or choreography. All the effort seems to have gone into the comedy, which is occasionally amusing but again not all that great. Still, even an amusing comedy can be interesting, what with a few zingers along the way and a showy little part for S. Z. Sakall. There’s a bit of systemic misogyny that is, for once, the butt of mild potshots. Calling Cinderella Jones a wartime musical may seem weird for a 1946 release, but that’s not taking into account that the film was completed in 1943, then held back for years. By the time it was released, it had to be re-edited to reflect the end of the war, leading to a few glaring inconsistencies (and probably many more unseen issues) within the film. Don’t watch Cinderella Jones because you’re expecting a top-notch musical—watch it because you’ve seen everything else, and like the overall atmosphere of such movies. Then it becomes a lot more fun.

  • The Wagons Roll at Night (1941)

    (On Cable TV, October 2022) Humphrey Bogart’s pre-stardom years are sometimes a wild ride. Back before Warner Brothers figured out that a tough-guy persona was ideal for him, he could show up as a mad scientist, a glib-talking boxing promoter or, in the case of The Wagons Roll at Night, as a travelling carnival owner. In this melodramatic tale, he’s the mean and cruel taskmaster who welcomes a naïve young guy as replacement lion tamer, and he gets increasingly vexed once the young man starts pining after his sister. If you’re thinking that lions are a very cinematic way of justifying violent scenes… you’re absolutely correct. (Some of the footage feels authentically dangerous.) Seeing Bogart mauled by a lion is good fun (nominally a spoiler, but, come on, it’s the film’s biggest selling point)—the rest of the film, not so much. It’s not bad, it’s just quite familiar, with Eddie Albert being good as the naïve kid, and the attractive Sylvia Sidney playing the cynical carnival girl—outshining Joan Leslie as an ingenue. Watchable and with a few moments of interest, The Wagons Roll at Night comes across as a bit too much of a routine melodrama for the times, but one that sustains modern viewing—especially if you’re interested in Bogart’s role right on the cusp to his stardom.

  • Repeat Performance (1947)

    (On Cable TV, January 2022) Crime noir crashes into supernatural fantasy in Repeat Performance, a suspense film in which a woman having murdered her husband wishes she could do it all over… and finds herself reliving the events of the past year, an aghast witness at how history seems fated to repeat itself. Not much of a rational explanation is ever provided for the do-over (other than wishing really, really hard) and the film does have a few challenges in selling its premise. There are also some built-in problems in beginning the story as close to the murder as possible, then having to constantly establish who’s who and how their new role in this repeated year differs (or not) from what happened before the film began. Still, this is a wonderfully weird and different film noir—the fantastical elements add a lot to the usual elements of a neo-gothic thriller and it’s not as if they are tangential: remove the do-over and the whole thing becomes meaningless, and the film doesn’t really try to pretend that this is all taking place in the lead character’s head. Much of the plotting is driven by irony, as events keep falling into the same configurations despite the protagonist’s attempts to change the course of the future. Joan Leslie is not bad in the lead role, with director Alfred L. Werker handling everything in unobtrusive matter-of-fact fashion. Deservedly rescued by the dregs of oblivion by the Film Noir Foundation, Repeat Performance isn’t an all-time classic, but it’s sufficiently different to be worth a look for either film noir buffs or time-loop fans: a classic Hollywood film that plays with elements that would pop up more distinctively in later movie eras.

  • High Sierra (1941)

    High Sierra (1941)

    (On Cable TV, August 2020) According to many film historians, High Sierra is the film that put Humphrey Bogart on the map: He was already a steadily working, well-regarded actor for Warner Brothers, and his fame would be consecrated within the next year with The Maltese Falcon and Casablanca, but High Sierra is the film that made people stand up and take notice of him as a star. Watching it, it also strikes me as a strong early noir film, what with the dark forces of fatality stopping even a well-meaning character from a happy ending. Bogart here plays a character recently released from prison, but already planning a big heist. The film describes his own dramatic arc along the way from prison to recidivism, made more interesting by the character being tempted by the righteous path. This being an early noir, you can expect that it’s not going to end well… but it’s the journey that counts, and seeing Bogart ruminate on the choices his character is making. This may be the transition point between Warner’s 1930s gangster films and true honest noir as we’d know it later on – you can point to The Public Enemy one way, and Detour the other. It’s also quite entertaining to watch – Bogart looks terrific with a very severe haircut, torn between Ida Lupino as a fantastic bad girl, and Joan Leslie as the flip side of his morality. The result is impressive even today, and not merely as a precursor to Casablanca-era Bogart.

  • The Sky’s the Limit (1943)

    The Sky’s the Limit (1943)

    (On Cable TV, April 2020) You won’t find The Sky’s the Limit ranked very high on any list of Fred Astaire’s films, but fans may find it interesting to see him playing something slightly different than usual. The most distinctive aspect of it is that the film in unabashed wartime propaganda, and that Astaire plays a military pilot! Not a very dutiful one, mind you—he escapes his own morale-boosting tour to go have fun in New York City, meets a girl and the film gets back on the tracks of Astaire’s usual romantic comedies. While the songs and dances are sparser than usual, Astaire’s character is written, as usual, as a persistent stalker when it comes to pursuing girls. To make up for fewer musical numbers, the romance is more front-and-centre than usual, even if the match between Astaire and Joan Leslie (both of them playing characters with their first names) doesn’t quite gel. The film gets better during the pair’s first ta-dancing duet, but eventually the romance hits its usual third-act wall. This temporary break-up leads to the best sequence in the film—and one of the highlights in any serious Astaire anthology: the “One for My Baby (And One More for the Road)” number, in which Astaire’s drunk character lashes out at his frustrations at a hotel bar by tap-dancing and kicking glasses and bottles at the mirrored bar wall. It’s a shocking, violent, and completely off-persona sequence for Astaire at the time, even though it portends Astaire’s wide-ranging post-musical acting career. The film could have ended on that note, but there are still a few minutes for a wholly unsatisfying happy ending that feels trite considering the rest of the film. The Sky’s the Limit is, to be sure, an interesting film for Astaire fans asked to accept him as something else in a film that doesn’t particularly use his talents very well in service of wartime propaganda. But it’s not a particularly good film. For fans only, and even then—steel yourself the moment you see Astaire acting drunk.

  • Hollywood Canteen (1944)

    Hollywood Canteen (1944)

    (On Cable TV, May 2019) Here’s what you need to know about Hollywood Canteen: During WW2, Hollywood celebrities got together and paid for a club in Los Angeles exclusively reserved for servicemen on leave where they could get free drinks and meals. Adding to the appeal, glamorous movie stars donated their time by actually bartending and waitressing for patrons of the place. This is all true—although accounts of the place usually underplay the considerable Pro-Hollywood publicity value in this arrangement. Further adding to the mystique is this film, not a great one but a fascinating time capsule of propagandist wish fulfillment that shows WW2 soldiers enjoying a few days in Los Angeles and spending time at the Hollywood Canteen where they get a chance to rub shoulders with movie stars. (Lost to twenty-first century audiences is the idea that when this film was shown to servicemen overseas, they could have been these guys.)  The film itself, once past the bare-bones setup, is a series of performances by Hollywood then-stars at the Canteen, effectively turning the film is a series of variety show sketches while the film’s protagonists kiss Hollywood starlets, empty sandwich trays or watch the acts with mouth agape. If some scenes make you somewhat queasy at the way the actresses are offered to soldiers for kisses, then you do have a good grasp at the hierarchy of values presented here, elevating the fighting soldier on a special pedestal. Hollywood Canteen remains both a wartime propaganda film, and a revue of who was who in Hollywood at the time—some of them featured in the movie, others referenced through dialogue. Many of the jokes are obscure now that the stars are gone—Jack Benny gets a laugh from the characters just by showing up, for instance, leaving twenty-first century audiences puzzled for a few moments. It’s fun to see some Hollywood stars in a far more relaxed environment, though—especially Bette Davis in a more comic role. The Canteen acts as a pretext, as the characters have adventures around town, our protagonist gets to romance a movie star and we tour the Warner Bros studios of the time. It’s actually quite a fun movie even with the propaganda material … but it works far better as a reminder of a bygone era.

    (Second viewing, On Cable TV, February 2021) I first saw Hollywood Canteen barely two years ago, but since I’ve spent much of the intervening time deepening my knowledge of classic Hollywood, revisiting it felt like a different experience. This is true of most films if you’re interested in the vast meta-narrative of Hollywood, but it’s particularly relevant in discussing Hollywood Canteen, as it’s a film that relies a lot on celebrity cameos for effect. The plot of the film remains the same from a first viewing to a second: it’s a fictionalized homage to the real “Hollywood Canteen” that, during WW2, offered free meals, refreshments and entertainment to servicemen on leave in the Los Angeles area. Thanks to the effort of notables such as Bette Davis, Hollywood studios pooled their resources and stars for the upkeep of the place, and it wasn’t rare to see a screen legend serving tables at the Canteen. The result was a propaganda victory for Hollywood, and fuel for fantasies involving soldiers and starlets. Alas, this aspect makes it intact in the film, as there’s a truly uncomfortable amount of time and attention lavished on named stars granting kisses and weekend getaways to the film’s fictional soldier characters, each of them over the moon to get some personal attention from their screen favourites. The film is at its worst when focusing on Joan Leslie playing “Joan Leslie,” an object of lust for many but luckily snagged by our protagonist as the millionth G.I. to enter the Canteen. Blech. But plot is the least of Hollywood Canteen’s worries when there’s a stream of musical numbers and comic cameos to act as a revue musical. That’s when a second viewing comes in: Cameos can be more mystifying than satisfying if you’re not familiar with the actors making a winking walk-on appearance, but they pay off the more you’re familiar with the comic point being made. 1944 audiences had no trouble catching the various jokes, allusions and parodies in Hollywood Canteen, but modern audiences will be tested on their knowledge of early-1940s pop culture — and specifically the Warner Brothers roster of stars. Having brushed up on my classic Hollywood in two years, I now knew who was Joe E. Brown and now could appreciate the donut gag as intended. The more you know about the character actors at the time, the more you can appreciate the bit with S. Z. Sakall and his cheeks, or Sydney Greenstreet hamming it up menacingly with Peter Lorre. My growing appreciation of Ida Lupino went up with every word of French she spoke (a gag made even funnier by Victor Francen’s follow-up), and so did my slow-burn liking of Bette Davis as she came onstage to explain the genesis of the Canteen. I’m not as up to speed when it comes to musical stars, but even I could appreciate the Andrew Sisters, Roy Rogers and his horse Trigger, the rather funny “You Can Always Tell a Yank” (which eerily sounds like a Disney song for reasons I can’t quite figure out), duelling violins and the background music by Jimmy Dorsey and his orchestra. Even the second time around, I maintain that Hollywood Canteen is somewhat distasteful as a narrative, but I grew much fonder of the remaining three-quarter of the film, as a comic musical revue.