REVIEWED BY DAN STUMPF:

   

PETE KELLY’S BLUES (Warners/Mark VII, 1955) with Jack Webb, Janet Leigh, Lee Marvin, Peggy Lee, Ella Fitzgerald, Edmond O’Brien, Martin Milner, and Andy Devine. Screenplay by Richard L. Breen; based on the 1951 radio series of the same title. Directed by Jack Webb.

   I knew Jack Webb could be funny — screamingly funny on the Tonight Show — and I knew he could be preachy and boring — like his late-60s revival of Dragnet — but I never thought he could be exciting till I saw this.

   The year is 1927:  Gangster Edmond O’Brien starts squeezing Kansas City jazz musicians for protection money. When they resist, he has one of them killed and the others knuckle under. He even pressures bandleader Webb into using his mistress in the act. At last, sickened by O’Brien’s brutality, Webb rebels in a violent shoot-out.

   
   
   

   A plain tale, simply told, and kudos to writer Breen and director Webb for adding just enough depth to keep it real, and just enough action to keep it moving. Webb himself is effectively laconic, in the Dick Powell style, with one of the great lines in the Movies:

      â€œCall the police and get someone to help bring Joey in.”

      â€œJoey? What’s wrong?”

      â€œIt’s raining on him.”

   Watching this, I never figured out why Janet Leigh fell helplessly in love with Jack Webb. I mean, he’s not as dour as usual here, but he’s still no Errol Flynn. More like an Americanized Henry Daniell. But the other characters ring true: Peggy Lee’s lush chantoosie, Martin Milner’s hothead, and even Andy Devine, unrecognizable as a tough cop.

   Best of all, there’s Lee Marvin as a laconic clarinetist. This character does almost nothing to advance the story, but he’s there anyway, with his droopy eyes and laid-back attitude, lending an authentic jazz-band tone to the proceedings. And he handles the licorice stick convincingly. The fact of his existence in this film — in a medium where every character is a bit of added time & expense — speaks volumes for Breen’s writing and Webb’s knowing production sense.

   Add the lush WarnerColor and some real fine, down-home, goat-ropin’ music, and you have a film here well worth your time.