Blood Alley

Blood Alley (William Wellman, 1955) This production of John Wayne's independent production company, Batjac Productions, Blood Alley must have felt snake-bit from the word "go." Director William Wellman had done a couple of films for Wayne, and Robert Mitchum had starred in the previous Batjac show directed by Wellman, Track of the Cat, and started filming on this film.

 

But, for whatever reason—Wellman thought it was weed, Bacall thought it was booze—Mitchum and the director did not get along on this one, and after an altercation in which Mitchum attacked one of the crew, Wellman contacted Wayne and delivered an ultimatum: "Either he goes or I go."

 

"Wild Bill" stayed. Mitchum went. 

 

But, the film needed a star to play opposite the already-cast Lauren Bacall. Gregory Peck didn't like the script. Humphrey Bogart wanted too much money. So, with a film in production and money on the line, Wayne interrupted his honeymoon to go on location to save the investment on the movie. Not that he had to go very far; this story about the evacuation of a village population out of Communist China was being filmed just outside of San Rafael in San Francisco Bay.

You know it's a different kind of "Duke" movie when the opening scene has Wayne (as Capt. Tom Wilder) talking to himself. John Wayne characters do not talk to themselves. There may be monologues, and he'll even do a scene talking over a grave with credibility. But, any introspection in Wayne's characters do so quietly, without a lot of fuss. So, it's a bit of a hurdle to jump when Wayne's Wilder starts out as a prisoner in a Chinese cell babbling to an imaginary "lady-in-waiting" he calls "Baby." Lord knows how long he's been in that prison—and Wayne plays it with an almost drunken exhaustion to make you think it's been awhile—but, it just doesn't "play."

Wayne's Wilder makes things difficult for his captors by setting fire to his mattress, which they quickly replace with another—rather accommodating for a Chinese prison, as I don't think a 5-star hotel would replace a mattress that fast—in which is secreted a pistol, a Russian officer's uniform, and a note giving him a rendezvous point. Not only is the prison's housekeeping department efficient, they have a great mail department. Security—not so much. So, Wayne escapes because he's over 6 foot, broad in the beam and wearing a Russian uniform in a Chinese prison and must have just walked out because he "blends." We're not shown this, of course, because we have to save up our credulity for the rest of the movie.

Wayne transitions from his cell to walking along a river bank where he comes across "Big Han" and his fishing vessel. Here's another thing about Blood Alley: casting. There are a lot of Chinese actors in the film, mostly background characters, which is all to the good. But, "Big Han" is played by Mike Mazurki, the well-regarded Ukrainian character actor. I only mention he's Ukrainian so as to point out that he is not Chinese. Neither is Paul Fix, who plays a village elder, nor is Berry Kroeger (another elder), and certainly not Anita Ekberg (!!) who plays the very small part of Han's wife, Wei Ling (she has no dialog as she would speak it with a Swedish accent). Look, I'm not so regimental that I think actors can't act parts, or I'd be rejecting Al Pacino in Scarface, or Alec Guinness, Anthony Quinn, and Paul Muni in...everything. But Paul Fix? Anita Ekberg? Couldn't we get somebody from the same hemisphere? On that one point, though, there is one little piece of casting that gave me great joy. I'll leave that to the end.

The main plot is that the village of Chiku Shan has made plans to abandon mainland China and transport all 180 residents to Taiwan by hijacking a stern-wheeler which makes a regular stop on it's regular route up and down the coast. From there, they'll navigate through the Strait of Formosa, known as "Blood Alley," to get away, hence the springing of Capt. Wheeler, who knows the waters, knows the dangers, and hates the commies. It's all been arranged by the village elders and Cathy Grainger (Bacall), daughter of the village doctor, who has recently been taken by the Communists for medical help.

Wellman keeps it moving, although sometimes the Cinemascope frame stumps him. The locations are nicely picturesque—you could believe it's not San Rafael—and the stern-wheeler is as grubby as the African Queen only with 180 extras (genuinely Chinese) and becomes something of a character itself. Wayne is crusty and gruffly paternalistic towards his passengers—but then he always is—and Bacall tries—tries—to make something out of a scripted romance with Wayne*, but it's not too convincing. They're a bit better being at odds with each other; after all, both actors are especially good in conflict.

And that's interesting. At the time, Wayne was deep in his crusade of ridding Hollywood of Communists, and Bacall was very much present in protesting the work of the House Un-American Activities Committee. They couldn't have been farther apart politically and there were attempts, by some in Hollywood, to persuade Wayne to not use Bacall for the picture because of her "pinko" views. Wayne ignored them. But, when Mitchum left the production and Wayne brought in to replace him, Bacall got worried. Instead of any animus, Bacall (in her autobiography) says she found him "to my surprise, warm, likable and helpful,"** and director Wellman "great! A fascinating man!" 

Later, she'd found out that it was Hedda Hopper who'd suggested she be cut—"Don't tell me how to cast my picture" Wayne reportedly growled—and a couple years later at a Clifton Webb-hosted cocktail party, (again from her autobiography) she confronted Hopper calling her "a bitch to try and keep me from working." Hopper replied that, for such an offense, Bacall had every right to give her a kick. "Whereupon she turned around and I kicked her in the ass - most unladylike but very martini-like. Whereupon everyone laughed out loudly and a truce was declared." I think that's my favorite thing about Blood Alley.

Oh, except for one thing. Watching it recently, I spotted a familiar face, that of a much-beloved character actor, in what was (maybe?) his fourth role on-screen—but not credited—as a Communist soldier who enters a room, says a line and leaves. But, it warmed my heart to see him: James Hong, all of 26 years old, unmistakable, and starting a career which continues today. I guarantee you've seen him in something.  Great actor...for comedy and drama, as he proves time and again.

* There is one line I loved—after going through a particularly rough time during a violent storm, Bacall makes a confession that she might be falling for the Captain and Wayne drawls "I think you got me confused with the storm..."

** Wayne was like that, evidently. Ideologically strict. But, personally, he was a gentleman, almost courtly, to women, and "one of the boys" around men. Did they get along? Bacall says when husband Humphrey Bogart was diagnosed with cancer, the first flowers came from Wayne. And when casting for The Shootist (which would, ultimately, be his last film), he asked for Bacall. In September, 2021, the John Wayne Estate released a note they'd found that she'd written to Wayne in 1979, while he was battling his final fight with cancer. 

 

Dear Duke,

This has been on its way to you for months. You have been so very much in my thoughts.  I never have been able to tell you how much you’re standing up for me in ‘Blood Alley’ days meant to me. I wanted to say it on ‘The Shootist’ — never could somehow. — know how difficult that film was for you. You have the guts of a lion — I do admire you more than I can say.  It was so great to see you Academy Award nite. I’m being inarticulate — I want you to know how terrific you are and how really glad I am to know you. You give more than [you] know — I send you much love — constant thoughts

Betty. 

Nightmare Alley (1947)

Nightmare Alley (Edmund Goulding, 1947) With Guillermo del Toro's remake in theaters, I thought it was a good idea to look at the original, notable because it's a film noir, the film that Tyrone Power thought was his best, and that it was withdrawn from circulation and unavailable for a long time—it was considered too dark and did not do well at the box office. But, it was revived after Power's death in 1958, and gained a reputation, enough to become a part of The Criterion Collection.

 

It was also produced by George Jessel. "That" George Jessel.

 

"Stan" Carlisle (Power) has a question. He's working for a traveling carnival as a "boob-catcher" and he's fascinated by the "geek," the freak show that attracts the most and lowest of the customers. "I don't understand how someone can get so low?" he asks Zeena (Joan Blondell) the fortune-teller and she has nothing to offer but "It can happen."

Stan can't imagine. He's on an upward spiral from a religious reform school to being on his own as an adult and barking for Mademoiselle Zeena, with her alcoholic husband Pete (Ian Keith) reduced to scrawling hidden answers on a chalkboard (when he's sober). He and Zeena used to be a great mind-reading act with a fool-proof code, but when Zeena started two-timing behind his back, Pete retreated to the bottle and never pulled himself out. A mind-reader is a terrible thing to waste.

Now, Stan is her partner in two-timing and wants that secret code and even offers to buy it from her, but Pete and Zeena aren't selling, seeing the code as being their nest egg once Pete can find it in him to sober up. And Stan is upping the ante by flirting with Molly (Colleen Gray), who is being minded by Bruno (Mike Mazurki) the carney's strong-man, able to see that she's attracted to the barker but too weak to do anything about it. The things that make or break a carnival are the attractions and right now, the most interesting things are going on behind the curtain. And sparks are flying back there.

Stan wants that code, staying as close to Pete as he can to pick up any secrets, but it back-fires on him. Unable to score any hootch from the carnival's Big Boss, he inveigles Stan to share his just acquired bottle of moonshine, which Stan has hidden away. Unfortunately, where Stan hid it was also the place the camp kept their wood alcohol and when he retrieves the stashed bottle, he picks up the wrong kind. Pete dies, and Stan fills the void by learning the code—taught to him by Zeena and Molly—to be her signaler in a new mentalist act that kills, and the success goes a bit to his head, using his secret knowledge and ability to "read" people to deflect the local sheriff from shutting the place down.

But, he's warned. Zeena also reads Tarot—or, as Blondell pronounces it "tarrot"—and the cards warn that Stan will come to a bad end, spelled out by the "hanged man" card which indicates sacrifice. Stan dismisses her worries as superstition, although she swears by the cards' abilities to predict fate. Nothing can prevent him from taking his new skills and trying to make a better life for himself, this time with Molly in tow, by developing a mentalist act among a higher-class clientele. A rube is a rube, and he prefers the ones with larger wallets.

Where Nightmare Alley gets interesting is when Stan and Molly's act becomes a success, and he soon becomes enticed by big offers with big pay-outs by the rich and powerful. By this time, completely cynical, he comes under the sway of Dr. Lilith Ritter (Helen Walker), a psychiatrist specializing in neuroses of the rich and, using her inside knowledge, runs a couple of long cons on a couple society big-wigs and hoping to parlay their donations into a church racket. To Stan, it's all the same racket, whether it's mentalism, psychiatry or religion—just different ways to separate people from their money—but Molly warns him that he's playing with fire, especially when he's pretending to become a spiritualist with a direct line to God. If only he had the power to predict the future...

Nightmare Alley is a cracker-jack little story that sits quite well in the film-noir category—despite the trappings of the mystic, that's all they are, trappings. But, the whole idea of the world populated by sheep for the right wolf to come along only to realize that fate is a hunter makes the movie as dark as pitch. And that's what appealed to Tyrone Power. Director Goulding had worked with him the year before, making The Razor's Edge, and one can see why, after years of matinee idol roles and swashbucklers, he wanted to test his image by playing an out-and-out bad guy. And it works. Stan Carlisle is charming, and Powers doesn't really have to change his acting style from the "star-quality" he was used to in order to play a con artist. The confidence of the star sells the connivance of the character without having to resort to villainous looks. Carlisle is a man who thinks he can get away with anything; he just hasn't realized his mental powers are not as good as he thinks they are.

Power, who loved flying, bought his own plane the same year as Nightmare Alley. He christened it "The Geek."