Joel McCrae

  • The Silver Horde (1930)

    The Silver Horde (1930)

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) As much as I like the 1930s a lot as a filmmaking decade, it gets rougher the older you go, and The Silver Horde is perhaps most remarkable for reminding us of the awkward period during which silent cinema transitioned to sound. Among other obvious artefacts, we have title cards being used to simplify narrative development (why show when you can tell?), a sound mixing that often goes completely silent in between dialogue (without background noises or music), and a rigidity of camera work that betrays those early loud boxed-in cameras. This is all the more remarkable in that The Silver Horde takes on grand ambitions for its backdrop, heading to Alaska for some great outdoor sequences. The initial excitement at setting an adventure story way up north soon fades as the film heads for the interiors of Seattle and the familiar machinations of a romantic comedy in which women vie for lead actor Joel McCrae’s attention. There are a few highlights (including an action scene set aboard a fishing boat, nicely handled), but otherwise the film soon turns unremarkable, except when its technical limitations become apparent. While The Silver Horde technically qualifies as a Pre-Code film, it does not really feature any of the characteristics that film fans have come to associate with the era — there’s little in here that couldn’t have been executed in the same way a few years later. As such, The Silver Horde is a bit of a snore even at 75 minutes — it’s only mildly interesting in its plotting and is perhaps most notable for being one of McCrae’s earliest starring roles, and the first of his three on-screen pairings with Jean Arthur, also in an early role. The look at salmon fishing, however, does have a quasi-documentary interest.

  • Dead End (1937)

    Dead End (1937)

    (On Cable TV, July 2020) As much as I’d like to be more positive about Dead End, it just ends up being a fairly dull New York crime drama. It does star an ascendant Humphrey Bogart in one of the 1930s roles most suited to his later persona (albeit as a villain), plus a leading role for Joel McCrae. The plot is perhaps a bit more sedate than you could expect: it’s based on a theatrical play, spends a lot of time on social issues class commentary on gentrification and doesn’t quite capitalize on its assets—or maybe just isn’t interested in telling anything but a drama opposing high class characters and low street urchins. Director William Wyler does have a few impressive camera moves, especially in the film’s opening moments. Alas, that’s not enough to make Dead End any more distinctive—the plot is uninvolving, and even Bogart’s supporting turn can’t save it completely.