● PAMPERED YOUTH. Vitagraph, 1924. Alice Calhoun, Cullen Landis, Wallace MacDonald, Ben Alexander. Director: David Smith. Both this and the film below were shown at Cinefest 28, Syracuse NY, March 2008.

   This is a real curiosity, a two-reel condensation of a seven-reel adaption of Booth Tarkington’s The Magnificent Ambersons. William K. Everson notes that it is a “16mm blow-up from a badly battered 9.5mm print that Kevin Brownlow rescued from a market-place in France during the 1960s.”

   The condensation preserves the outlines of the decline and fall of the Ambersons, climaxing in a spectacularly staged fire sequence that reunites the remaining impecunious Ambersons (Isabel and her son George) with the successful suitor she once spurned, Eugene Minafer, also clearing the way for the marriage of George to Eugene’s daughter Lucy.

● DAYDREAMS. Angle Pictures, London, 1928. Elsa Lanchester, Charles Laughton, Harold Warrender, Dorice Fordred , Marie Wright. Based on a short story by H. G. Wells. 25min. Director: Ivor Montagu.

   A strikingly designed, delightful short film in which a housemaid (Lanchester) fantasizes about a rich marriage followed by a series of adventures in which Laughton figures importantly as a lascivious villain, all of it resolved when Lanchester, awakening from her day-dreams, walks away from her mundane job.

[UPDATE] 09-18-11. Thanks to a comment left by Mike White, Walter’s review of Pampered Youth has been amended to correctly identify Eugene Minafer’s daughter. Her name was Lucy, not Fanny. Thanks, Mike!

   (Mike was the long time editor and publisher of Cashiers du Cinemart. You might wish to visit his website at http://www.impossiblefunky.com.)

MURRAY LEINSTER – The Brain-Stealers. Ace Double #D-79, paperback original, 1954. Published dos-à-dos with Atta, by Francis Rufus Bellamy. Reprinted by Ace in single volume form, circa 1974. Trade paperback: Wildside Press, 2007.

   So came last October, and I started my month of ghoulish reading with Murray Leinster’s The Brain-Stealers (Ace, 1954), a crackerjack bit of sci-fi from a master of the form.

   This one starts fast and never lets up, as a spaceship full of blood-sucking aliens lands on the first page in a remote part of the country and discharges a band of “little guys”: hairless, short-limbed, sharp-toothed and incredibly selfish beings with the power of mind control, who proceed to enslave the locals and propagate, with plans of world domination.

   Said world is a clever wrinkle Leinster throws in the plot-pot. Brain-Stealers is set in a near-future society (near-future in 1954 that is) ruled by something called “Security” where science, culture, even knowledge itself are carefully regulated in the name of peace and safety.

   (Which makes the whole thing unbelievable; I mean, now really! Can you honestly imagine people giving up their individual rights for the promise of security? But I digress…)

   Such a world seems ripe for enslavement, but in the tradition of the best sci-fi, Leinster rings in an escaped scientist (experimenting in thought-projection no less!) who lands in the middle of things and finds himself in a run-and-jump war with the aliens.

   This is pulp as it oughta be: stylish and fast, with a plot that keeps twisting right to the end as Leinster throws his rogue scientist in and out of peril with breath-taking speed. You honestly can’t spend a better couple hours than sitting down with this and … letting your mind go!

C. W. GRAFTON – The Rat Began to Gnaw the Rope. Farrar & Rinehart, hardcover, 1943. [Mary Roberts Rinehart Mystery Contest winner.] Reprint paperbacks: Dell #180, 1947, mapback edition; Perennial Library, P639, 1983. Poisoned Pen Press, trade paperback, 2020.

   Lawyer Gil Henry’s client describes him as a young man who has “got more curiosity than an old maid and his mind is so sharp it’s about to cut his ears off.” Henry is this and much more — tenacious, eager, with a humorous, self-deprecating wit.

   Sometimes he’s a bit of a bumbler, but he has the good grace to acknowledge it. And in this, his first case, his determination serves him in good stead.

   Henry is hired by Ruth McClure to look into the matter of some stock she has inherited: Her father, who was recently killed in an auto accident, has left her a hundred shares in Harper Products Company, the firm where he was employed. The owner of the company, William Jasper Harper, is offering to buy the shares for much more than they are worth, and Ruth wants to know why.

   Henry takes her on as a client — with reservations because the senior partner in his firm is dating Harper’s daughter. And when he receives an urgent summons to come to Harpersville earlier than he planned (because someone has ransacked Ruth’s house), he still is hesitant.

   But he goes, in a car borrowed from his partner, and is involved in a near-fatal accident on the way. When the accident turns out to be due to a shot-out tire, he checks the car Ruth’s father died in. There is no evidence, because there is no tire — someone has taken it from the wrecking yard.

   From there on, suspicious circumstances mount up: There seems to be little love lost between Ruth McClure and her adopted brother, Tim; Ruth’s father lived well beyond his means; there is a disfigured egg lady who is also living beyond her means — and indeed buys the eggs she sells to selected persons (including Mr. Harper) at the grocery store.

   When Henry confronts Harper personally, he is run out of town, and he must go to Louisville, Kentucky, where the company’s accountants are, in search of further evidence. Before he finally gets to the bottom of this strange state of affairs, murder has been done twice — and Gil Henry is considering committing a third.

   Grafton’s style is easy and humorous, the plotting is good, and the characters are sure to intrigue you. Gil Henry is an extremely likable young man, and it’s regrettable that he appears in only one other book, The Rope Began to Hang the Butcher (1944).

   Grafton — the father of contemporary private-eye novelist Sue Grafton — wrote only one other suspense novel, Beyond a Reasonable Doubt (1950).

         ———
   Reprinted with permission from 1001 Midnights, edited by Bill Pronzini & Marcia Muller and published by The Battered Silicon Dispatch Box, 2007.   Copyright © 1986, 2007 by the Pronzini-Muller Family Trust.

SUE GRAFTON – “A” Is for Alibi. Holt Rinehart & Winston, hardcover, April 1982. Bantam, paperback, 1982. Reprinted many times, in both hardcover and soft.

   In this first of a series featuring female private investigator Kinsey Millhone, screenwriter Sue Grafton introduces us to a captivating character. Millhone is thirty-two, twice divorced, with no kids (after all, she can’t very well ramble around California in her beat-up Volkswagen with two babes and a lonely husband waiting at home).

    “A” Is for Alibi begins with Kinsey telling us she has killed someone for the first time. The event “weighs heavily” on her mind, and in a tightly packed 274 pages we find out just how it happened.

    Millhone takes us back to the beginning of the case, when she meets with the widow of a prominent attorney in Santa Teresa, a small, upperclass beach community in southern California (and Grafton’s admitted tribute to Ross Macdonald).

    The woman was convicted eight years ago of poisoning her philandering, abusive, and very rich husband with a capsule of oleander-a common California shrub-which she allegedly slipped into his bottle of tranquilizers so he would take it at will, when she wasn’t around: “A” is for alibi.

    The woman has proclaimed her innocence from the beginning. After eight years in prison for a crime she didn’t commit, she wants Millhone to find her husband’s real murderer.

    What follows is a beautifully written story of spoiled love, American-style. Ex-wives, children of divorce, ambitious girlfriends, loyal secretaries, and longtime business partners — Millhone grills all of these with the tenacity of the best hard-boiled detectives, and her female sympathies draw out the emotional reality of the characters with refreshing clarity.

    In the end, she has no choice but to kill someone, and we are as surprised as she is when it happens. Don’t miss this one, or its sequel, “B” Is for Burglar, which appeared in 1985.

         ———
   Reprinted with permission from 1001 Midnights, edited by Bill Pronzini & Marcia Muller and published by The Battered Silicon Dispatch Box, 2007.   Copyright © 1986, 2007 by the Pronzini-Muller Family Trust.

SUE GRAFTON – “A” is for Alibi. Holt Rinehart & Winston, hardcover, April 1982. Bantam, paperback, 1982. Reprinted many times, in both hardcover and soft.

   A classic, of course, but I hadn’t read it until now. It far outclasses the other two or three I’ve sampled in the series.

   Alibi takes every hardboiled device and turns it inside out with a female protagonist. Sleeping with a sexy suspect? Check. Obsession with some kind of justice? Check.

   Facing down sexy suspect, with no qualms? Check. But it’s not Sam Spade, it’s Kinsey Milhone. And that forces the reader to think about gender and genre expectations.

   It’s not just the concept that’s excellent; craft is necessary for the concept to succeed. Here’s a nice passage from page 150 of the Bantam paperback (an edition riddled with typos):

   While the 1980s time frame feels historic now, the story feels freshly told. And that’s what defines a classic.

   It’s a couple of days early, but I’ll wish you a Merry Christmas and the Happiest of Holidays right now, with plenty of time to spare.

   I’ll also take a short break from blogging until early next week. Maybe this bit of time off will give me a chance to get caught up on email, but yes, I know, you’ve heard me say that before.

   Thanks to all of the contributors to this blog over this past few months. I’ve learned something from every review and every article you’ve sent me, and from every comment that’s been left. This blog wouldn’t be the same without you.

           — Steve

  WAYWARD. Paramount, 1932. Nancy Carroll, Richard Arlen, Pauline Frederick, John Litel, Margalo Gillmore, Burke Clarke, Dorothy Stickney, Gertrude Michael. Based on a novel by Mateel Howe Farnham. Director: Edward Sloman. Shown at Cinefest 28, Syracuse NY, March 2008.

   Showgirl Nancy Carroll marries Richard Arlen, whose very upper-class family is not at all happy with his new wife. They are stuffy and Carroll’s theatrical background and breezy manner alienate most of the family except for a black-sheep in-law (John Litel), who drinks too much and shares Carroll’s dislike of formality.

   The family is dominated by Arlen’s mother, splendidly played by a stern and unforgiving Pauline Frederick. Misunderstandings abound until Arlen finally sees through his mother’s duplicity and forces her to back down and accept Carroll into the family.

   Carroll, Frederick and Litel bring the film fitfully to life, but Arlen’s inability to stand up to his mother for most of the film makes you wonder what Carroll saw in him in the first place. A ’30s soaper that added little luster to the program.

Editorial Comment:   Besides the cast and crew,there’s no other information about this film on IMDB — no synopsis, no comments, nor any other external links. There has never been an official release, and in all likelihood there never will be one. Quite surprisingly, though, if you were so inclined to try, you should be able to find a copy on DVD rather easily on the collector-to-collector market.

DONALD HAMILTON – Smoky Valley. Dell First Edition #18, paperback original; reprinted several times, first by Dell, then Fawcett Gold Medal.

  ● THE VIOLENT MEN. Columbia, 1955. Glenn Ford, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Dianne Foster, Brian Keith. Based on the novel Smoky Valley by Donald Hamilton. Director: Rudolph Maté.

   A while ago on this blog I mentioned a pleasing little Western called The Violent Men (Columbia, 1955), and last month I managed to seek out the book it was based on, Smoky Valley, by none other than Donald Hamilton.

   It turned out to be a fun read, and no less interesting to see how it was re-jiggered for the movie.

   Smoky Valley tells the brief story of John Parrish, a broken Civil War vet come west for his health, and it picks up just as the neighbors who nursed him to recovery are being forced off their land by a nasty rancher and his nastier son-in-law, who own that icon of the genre, The Biggest Spread In The Valley, and mean to make it bigger.

   In the way of Western good-guys, Parrish avoids conflict as long as possible and even eats a certain amount of dirt before striking back with that cool, deadly efficiency a writer like Hamilton puts across so well.

   Indeed, it’s Hamilton’s quiet-but-deadly prose that lifts this thing out of the ordinary. Hamilton knew about guns, horses and men, and he could structure a story to show off his skill with them.

   This was translated very ably to the screen in the movie; one particularly remembers Brian Keith casually loading his gun while everyone else talks about settling this thing peaceably, or Parrish (Glenn Ford) coolly murdering a gunman — both scenes straight from Hamilton’s book, tautly written and ably filmed.

   But the main difference between page and screen is Barbara Stanwyck. I don’t know what led Columbia to put Stanwyck in this film. Her character doesn’t appear in the book, but once she was in it, they had to build up a good part for her.

   And they sure did. Playing the cattle baron’s dissatisfied trophy wife (starring again with Edward G. Robinson ten years after Double Indemnity) she projects her dominant personality against a back-drop worthy of her, somehow without overbalancing the story. Neat trick, that.

   We still get the basic elements and the full flavor of Hamilton’s tight little novel, with the added attraction of a fine actress at her bitchiest, particularly in a definitive moment when she shows her love for her crippled husband by throwing his crutches in the fire as hes trying to escape a burning house.

The Good Witch of Laurel Canyon. Premiere episode (of 12) for the CBS TV series Tucker’s Witch, 6 October 1982. Cast: Rick Tucker: Tim Matheson; Amanda Tucker: Catherine Hicks; Ellen Hobbes: Barbara Barrie; Marcia: Alfre Woodard; Lt. Fisk: Bill Morey. Guest cast: Danny: Ted Danson; Babs: Alexa Hamilton. Created and written by William Bast and Paul Huston. Director: Peter H. Hunt.

   Husband and wife PI’s Rick and Amanda Tucker hunt for the person who is strangling married women in high-rise elevators. Want to guess how it ends?

   The gimmick for this series is an odd one. Amanda is a witch. However this is no PI Bewitched. Amanda is trying to learn to control her special powers, special powers that is public knowledge.

   The acting, especially Catherine Hicks, is the only thing going for this series, and some would claim the occasional cheesecake views of Hicks is the only reason to watch.

   Before the opening credits we watch the killer in action. What follows is not some Columbo-like mystery, but instead a cliche-filled, lazily written romantic comedy mystery that fails in nearly every way possible.

   Need to find a clue? Let the witch have a hunch about something and you have your clue or if she is wrong you have your comedy.

   Feature a Los Angeles police department that accepts hunches from an unreliable witch, as well as does not notice all the victims were members of the same video dating service. A video dating service that gives all its members a pointless charm for no reason other than the writers need a clue for their witch to find.

   Nearly every TV mystery cliche is in this one episode. Rick does not want to talk about the case because he wants to go on vacation (no signs they are packed to go anywhere). Seconds later they get a call that a client wants to hire them for this mystery. Rick tries to convince the paying client to drop case. Flighty sweet Amanda’s Mother who lives with them.

   Wacky neighbors. Understanding stupid cop friend. Woman overhears them discuss the murders in first person and misunderstands. PIs break the law stealing personal property to find out who did it. They are so obvious about it the killer finds out. Killer tries to kill Rick in a car by cutting the brake line. Spend screen time watching the “out of control” car run over things.

   Killer decides to make Amanda the next victim. Rick rushes to her rescue (though Amanda does hold her own vs the killer). Episode ends with cute bit where the loose ends are summed up during adorable characterization action.

   You know you are watching bad 80’s network TV when the smartest character is Dickens, Amanda’s cat who uses the phone answering machine to let Rick know Amanda is with the killer. Top that, Lassie!

   Reviewed from YouTube videos: Part One.

   From detective fiction researcher John Herrington comes the following inquiry, which I paraphrase:

   I have been looking for Jay Shane, an author who published a couple of westerns for Robert Hale in the UK. I thought it might be a pseudonym until I found the blurb below on Amazon. According to Social Security death records, the dates are correct.

   So far I’ve only found a couple of westerns by him, as well as various works on TV repair etc. I wonder if you can post something on your blog to see if anyone can identify his crime fiction, or anything else he wrote.

   Here’s the Amazon blurb:

    “Jay Shane, the author of both Western novels and Technical literature was born in 1911 in Saskatchewan, Canada. Mr. Shane passed away just two months after having finished the writing of this novel in April of 2009 at the age of 97. Mr. Shane made his living repairing Color Televisions and owned and operated a shop for most of his career. His avocation however was writing and had successfully published many fiction including Westerns and Detective novels and wrote technical articles for the TV repair industry other non-fiction books and articles for the electronics industry. Always interested in character profiles, Mr. Shane had researched extensively the social and cultural characteristics of the time period for this novel in an effort to accurately represent the kind of world in which the Apostle Matthew would have lived.”