Al Capone

Saturday is traditionally "Take Out the Trash" Day.

Al Capone (Richard Wilson, 1959) No fortune was ever made without a little larceny. That's the way I first heard it. But, the quote (attributed to Balzac) is "The secret of great fortunes without apparent cause is a forgotten crime, because it was properly done."

 

Okay, a little touch of pretension to lead off a review of this cheap B-movie made around the time the movie market was starting to be overrun by gangster pictures, which had previously had their hey-day in the pre-Code early 1930's. The Code stated that criminals were not to be glorified, and certainly not mentioned by name—Howard Hawks had made Scarface in 1932, but the titular character played by Paul Muni was named Tony Camonte—not Al Capone (despite the "nickname" association). When Breen and the Hays Code cracked down on the mob in movies there had been one exception, the 1945 low-budget film Dillinger. 

But, as the Production Code was being attacked from all fronts, the smaller studios and production companies took chances on the criminal element as a box-office draw. The first script for Al Capone was rejected by the PCA, as "glorification" of Capone, without a "counter-balancing good" and "an overemphasis on violence and slaughter." A toned-down draft was subsequently submitted and accepted, and although J. Edgar Hoover would grumble about it (and the other gangster-themed films throughout the late 1950's-early 1960's), the mobs were taking over the screens.

It must have been tough not to "glorify" Capone, as he steeped himself in glorification; if there was an American oligarch of crime, it was Al Capone. The movie plays fast and loose with the facts—yeah, Capone started in New York, but the picture starts with him (played at high volume by Rod Steiger) working as a bodyguard for Johnny Torrio (Nehemiah Persoff), who runs an "emporium" specializing in "booze, gambling, and broads"—the movie glosses over the fact that Capone was merely 20 years old, already married with a kid (they're never mentioned). Capone thinks Torrio too soft and lacks ambition, but a meeting with higher-up "Big Jim" Colosimo (Joe De Santis) brings him a mentor more in line with how he'd want to handle things. And Colosimo knows Caruso. That's more like it.

With Prohibition, Capone devizes ways to keep the booze flowing and the money coming in, but his bosses aren't as keen to taking chances and challenging the turf of their rivals. Capone eliminates the roadblocks and intimdates his foes, all the time keeping control of politicians and paying off the police...except for Sgt. Schaeffer (James Gregory), who eventually becomes Captain and makes Capone his personal mission. Capone lives large and fairly untouched. But it isn't until the St. Valentine's Day massacre that Capone starts to feel any pressure, plus his relationship with the wife of one of his victims doesn't go smoothly, as well.

Some of it's true. Some of it is borrowed from Shakespeare—director Richard Wilson had worked on Welles' version of Macbeth—and it's all staged on back-lots and made-for-television angles on the cheap...as most of the product of these independent gangland films were. Still, one gets a sense of time and place, even if it sometimes feels like it's in a bubble. And Steiger is a roaring gorilla throughout, not afraid to rattle the balcony seats or bust a blood vessel. There are times when you want to laugh, but then Steiger will do something with just an eye-flick that lets you in that his gangster in not just all sound and fury, but a show-man and strategist as well. He's a combination of adult and child, with a habit of murderous tantrums. It would be an understatement to call it a bravura performance, and it comes perilously close to prosciutto. 

It's not a great film, but it is "properly done." Balzac would have been proud.

Fate is the Hunter

Fate is the Hunter (Ralph Nelson, 1964) Continental Flight 22 out of L.A. is bound for Seattle, but it will not make it.

That is not known to Sam McBane (Glenn Ford), who is a Continental air exec in charge of Flight Operations and has a lot of things on his mind. Right now, he's trying to make things go as efficiently as possible; there's a change in regime coming up and a vice-presidency position that McBane is probably going to fill. The thing is Ben Sawyer (Nehemiah Persoff), Director of Engineering and Maintenance, is up for the same job. The last thing he wants to do is banter with his old Korean War buddy Jack Savage (Rod Taylor), who's about to pilot Flight 22, but is thinking about the fishing trip to Walla Walla he's going to make afterwards. Savage has always been a devil-may-care pilot and a bit of a rake, while McBane is a by-the-book man. The two josh a bit, but Savage has a plane to catch. 

Things look normal, and there is the usual banter between the pilots and the stewardesses, one of whom is new and the other, Martha Webster (Suzanne Pleshette), has to warn her about Savage's reputation as a "ladies' man". It's going to be a nominal flight. The control tower gives them the go-ahead and they power up.

But, not too long after take-off, the right engine is struck by birds and flames out. Flight 33 is running on one engine. They radio for emergency landing instructions but there's an issue—three inbound flights are approaching LAX, all off-schedule. That's the last thing Savage and the flight crew here; their radio goes out and right after that, the left engine goes out, too. They're flying without power and have to ditch. Savage goes in for a belly landing on the beach and everything looks clear. Then, at the last moment, they see a pier coming up fast and it's too late. The plane crashes, and takes 53 souls with it. There's only one survivor—Martha Webster.

The crash-site is a melee of fire-fighters, reporters, on-lookers, and Continental execs. It's a disaster and everybody is looking for answers. The pier was supposed to be removed the week before, but the contractor had been off on a hunting trip and hunting was good. Then, the question comes up about sabotage—one of the passengers was a twitchy type who'd bought a lot of insurance before the flight. The Civil Aeronautics Board takes over control of the investigation and they make plans to take the plane pieces back to Continental to put the pieces back together and see what they can find out.

The sabotage angle doesn't pan out. And the right engine turns out to be perfectly alright. Listening to the radio-tapes, everybody sounds concerned but there's no panic. But, then a local reporter starts digging and it turns out that Savage was seen in a bar two hours before the flight and he and his companion seemed pretty lit. McBane protests; he knew Savage, had a log history with him, and sure, he could be a loose cannon but he'd never violate the 24 hour rule. And that's the usual story, isn't it? If you can't find another solution, it has to be pilot error. Blame the pilot. And the rumors seem to back it up.

But, McBane won't hear of it. There has to be another reason. The hell with the promotion. Savage was a good pilot. There had to be something. Something else. McBane starts investigating. First, he goes to the bar where Savage was supposed to be drinking, and the bartender verifies Savage and another guy were there two hours before the flight. One thing tears it: the one guy tipped the piano player to play "Blue Moon." 

It was Savage's favorite tune.

McBane interviews Webster, but she's too much in shock, too grief-stricken to be much help. Savage's landlady thinks he was a jerk. And his ex-fiancee Lisa Bond (an uncredited Dorothy Malone) calls him "the most unreliable, irresponsible and unregenerate man I ever met." There are two clues—the guy named "Mickey" that Savage was in the bar with, and "a Chinese girl" that he'd been seeing recently. 

McBane goes to interview a "Nancy Fraser" whom Savage named as beneficiary on his insurance. He finds a marine biologist (Nancy Kwan) who had been seeing Savage. The two had met while Savage was getting ready to break up with Lisa Bond, and the two were drawn to each other—the insurance, it was for her research. Nancy introduces the concept that it was Fate that caused the accident—given her familiarity with Savage and his very nature that he could not have caused the crash, by design or accident, and that the circumstances combined that the fatal results of the flight were inevitable...and if they were inevitable, there could be no fault.

Her ideas seem to fall in place with what Savage and McBane's old radio-man, Fred Bundy (Wally Cox), reveals about a particular mission from which most of the crew—including McBane—had bailed out. Bundy was too afraid to bail, and, instead of forcing the man to jump, Savage instead began to look for solutions to the dilemma that ultimately saved both men and the plane. Bundy also reveals Savage stayed in touch with him, even after the war and with most of his crew, maintaining friendships and never abandoning them.

The "Fate" theory does not sit well with the CAB, and McBane, out of options and looking for hard answers, decides to take another plane, under the same conditions to find out what happened that forced the plane into its precarious position that even a pilot like Savage could not compensate for. It's only then that he can satisfy himself that there might not be a fault, whether of plane or of man, but that, given the circumstances, it was inevitable.

Fate is the Hunter is by no stretch of the imagination a great movie. The effects are awful, the plane design for the fateful aircraft is something of an aerodynamic nightmare, some of the acting—especially by a hesitant Glenn Ford—is unimpressive*, and there's some amateurishness in the writing throughout—Max Showalter's pain-in-the-ass reporter is as subtle as a club and the final solution (and it is a solution) is, on first blush, a bit of an eye-roller.** But, the movie is, ultimately, a bit marvelous in going against the blame-game of finger-pointing and being simultaneously woo-woo and practical at the same time. Ultimately, it seems to be saying, shit happens and let's make sure it doesn't happen again...or else 53 people died for nothing. That sort of thing just doesn't fly in a litigious society.

The film has nothing—absolutely nothing—to do with Ernest K. Gann's 1961 book (and he was so embarrassed by it that he asked for his name to be removed on television airings, although it appears on the currently available DVD's and on the YouTube version). The film picks up the general philosophy that as pragmatic as one can be, you can't fix everything and every condition and that if one is out of options...well, one is out of options. It's a bit like the test pilots' job description of "eternities of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror." Hey, if you weren't going to take chances, you could have taken a bus. Aviation is, still in all, something of a miracle, and we've only been doing it for slightly more than 100 years. It's amazing that it the industry works as well as it does.

They could make the seats a bit less confining, though.

Rod Taylor ponders that while Susanne Pleshette hands him a fateful cup of coffee.

* Taylor is great in a role that could have made you wince, Pleshette is entirely believable and sympathetic in some of the toughest scenes and the troika of Savage apologists—Kwan, Cox, and Stevens—are endearing.

** Well, except that something similar happened to an Airbus flying from Frankfurt to Cancun in February 2019, causing the flight to be diverted to Ireland.