This Scarface is in Chicago, Not Miami

Living dangerously, Tony Camonte muscles in on his boss's girlfriend.

"Scarface" (1932) is one of the seminal American gangster films of the 1930s, along with "Little Caesar," "The Roaring Twenties" and "The Public Enemy." Each one tells the story of a gangster's rise in the bootlegging business and his assent to the top of a powerful crime syndicate. After tasting success, each of the crime lords has a precipitous fall back to earth due to errors in judgment and his own hubris. 

The films are a study in how criminal empires are built on the sale of whisky, gin and beer to a willing Prohibition-era public. The 1930s "Scarface was remade in 1983 with Al Pacino in the title role. Both films tell similar stories but could hardly more different in content, tone and style. The Pacino "Scarface," directed by Brian De Palma, is a good deal more graphically violent and involves cocaine trafficking rather than rum running.

Howard Hawks directed the original and Ben Hecht wrote the break-neck paced script that is as witty as his screwball comedy, "His Girl Friday" — Hawks directed that one, too.  

Hawks's film had to sit on the shelf for two years after its completion. The studio was reluctant to release it because of the violence it depicts. But compared with the Pacino film, the original "Scarface" is almost a Sunday school picnic. Although Hawks's film is hardly violence-free it seems mild compared with the bullet-riddled 1983 film, which contains, among other atrocities, a chainsaw murder. 

Paul Muni is terrific as the wisecracking Tony Camonte, a gangster who wants to control all of Chicago's booze biz. He must step over or crush many other hoods to get the job done, and like many a successful gangster he'll rub out even a longtime pal who stands in the way.

Tony flirts with his boss's girlfriend and talks of taking over the North Side of Chicago's bootlegging business that's run by a powerful rival gang — both actions suggest a death wish at the core of his being. But pretty soon he makes good on his ambitions.

Tony (Paul Muni) likes the feel of a machine gun in 'Scarface.'

Despite his penchant for deep-sixing his rivals, Tony has a goofy side that might have seemed out of place in such a dubious movie hero, but here it doesn't.

The newly rich Tony shows off his fancy new digs to the girl he's taken a shine to and she tells the vocabulary-challenged mobster it's sort of gaudy, which he takes as a compliment.

When Tony gets his hands on a Thompson machine gun, the first one he's ever seen, he's delighted with the weapon's raw destructive power. He takes adolescent delight in spraying the room with bullets, but it doesn't take long before he starts training the weapon on human targets.

Tony is devoted to his mother — do all wiseguys have mother issues? He's also a fierce overlord to his younger sister, demanding that she never go on dates with young men. His fixation with his attractive sibling is a bit creepy and ultimately becomes a key part of his undoing.

Tony's fancy townhouse is equipped with steel shutters, making the joint a fortress to stave off bullets and bombs that rivals and the police might fire in his direction. But he can never completely shut out the threats that will ultimately rain down upon him.

Racked by paranoia, he ultimately finishes off his friends as well as other hoods looking to put out his lights. Alone, he's no longer a force to be reckoned with and he pays the ultimate price for his misdeeds. A fitting end to a strange bad guy who we can't help but like.

Whitey Not a Rat? Shelley Murphy on Whitey Bulger

The James "Whitey" Bulger saga continues, and here's an interesting interview with reporter Shelley Murphy about the incarcerated 83 year old Boston mob boss. Check out Shelley's accent -- sounds like she's right out of Southie.
Shelley Murphy on Whitey Bulger - RadioBDC blog - Boston.com

You may remember that Whitey was on the lam from Boston Police, and wanted for some 19 murders he is accused of committing or ordering others to commit. But Whitey's luck ran out in June 2011 when authorities busted the gang overlord in Santa Monica, Calif. The crime kingpin is widely believed to have received immunity from prosecution courtesy of the Boston branch of the FBI, because he was informing on his mob brethren. But hold the phone -- now Whitey says he ain't no canary!

'The Crimson Kimono': Big Crime in Little Tokyo

Tawdry newspaper headlines bark out plot twists
in 'The Crimson Kimono' (1959).

Director, producer and writer Samuel Fuller photographs the streets of downtown L.A. stunningly in "The Crimson Kimono," a film that's part mystery, part love triangle and part travelogue. We get to see the downtown exteriors, particularly Little Tokyo as it looked in 1959, with a gleaming City Hall in the background. The City Hall tower is a crucial visual marker in a metropolis whose skyline has few recognizable buildings. It instantly orients the observer, and in "The Crimson Kimono" it serves as a looming symbol of justice watching over the city's mean streets.

Sugar Torch (Gloria Pall).

He started his career as a teenaged crime reporter for New York tabloid newspapers, and it shows in his films. Fuller had a gift for exploiting the tawdry and the sensational. "Crimson Kimono"'s plot involves the search to find out who murdered stripper Sugar Torch, and the characters include the denizens of the urban demimonde plus a number of eccentrics thrown in for good measure — the story takes place in L.A., a city routinely portrayed in crime fiction and movies as kooks central. As the manhunt for the killer proceeds, the two detectives, who happen to be buddies and roommates as well, fall in love with the same woman, and the resulting turmoil is the backdrop to the central murder mystery.

Ziggy plays a small role in the story, but is worth mentioning because much of the rest of the cast, especially Corbett and his buddy, Det. Joe Kojaku (James Shigeta) don't have the same air of authenticity about them as does street canary Ziggy. They come across as much too square to be uttering the words that come out of their mouths. Kojaku observes, "Charlie figured bird-doggin' wouldn't appeal to you," and Bancroft admits, "You know, I knocked around an awful lot," and, "Somethin's eatin' him the way he clammed up." 

Wandering through Little Tokyo.

These two ivy league-looking dudes are almost painful to watch when they spout these howlers. Granted, the kind of stylized Runyonesque dialogue Fuller was going for probably never came out of anyone's mouth at anytime in real life. A grittier cast may have turned up the believability quotient a few notches, but, no matter, it's still a bracingly exciting film.

Fuller knew how to open a movie with a healthy dose of hoopla, and his aerial view of L.A. at night and the roaring Gene Krupa-like orchestration behind the soaring camera work perfectly sets the scene. As we view the city from a bat's-eye perspective, the title card tells us it's LOS ANGELES, in case there was doubt.

The greatness behind "The Crimson Kimono" is its ability to turn L.A. into a character in the story, not just a location, and at that Fuller excels. And if you're going to pick a city to play the backdrop for a crime story you could do a lot worse than L.A.

'Gangster Squad' Ready to Rumble

The Sunday L.A. Times just arrived outside my door wrapped in its usual plastic body bag, but this time it was also wrapped in a faux front-page advertisement touting “Gangster Squad,” the big-deal movie that opens Friday. The four-page L.A. Times ad disguised as a legitimate front page complete with screaming headlines and real photos of 1940s – ’50s gangster boss Mickey Cohen (pictured above) and others of his ilk, is a sure sign that this film is getting the big-time promotional treatment reserved for high-ticket movies such as “The Dark Night.” Warner Brothers, who is releasing the thing, seems to have high hopes that this one is going to be, as the Mafioso would say, a “good earner.” Sean Penn plays the Mickster.

The script was written by ex-L.A. cop Will Beall based on the book of the same title by Paul Lieberman. Apropos to the Time’s four-page advertorial spread, the paper also published a series on Mickey Cohen’s reign over the city, and the secret police squad that skirted the law to break organized crime’s stranglehold on L.A. You can read the series online here: L.A. Noir: Tales from the Gangster Squad.

Just Desserts for a Bad Apple

The Hoodlum (1951)

Director: Max Nosseck
Writer: Sam Neuman
Stars: Lawrence Tierney, Allene Roberts and Marjorie Riordan

See the full movie on YouTube, or rent it on DVD.

Sometimes a rat gets what he deserves – it just takes a while.

“The Hoodlum” begins documentary style with a rundown of anti-hero Vincent Lubeck’s dirty dealings. As a teen, he starts getting busted for petty crimes, and pretty soon he's graduated to the big leagues.

Next is a scene with wooden dialogue in which Lubeck’s mom successfully argues with the parole board to release her wayward boy from lock-up. But mom soon finds she made a big mistake in springing the now-grown golden boy from the slammer.

The movie’s first few minutes might make you want to look for something else to watch. But stay with it. It’s not a goofy morality tale, a la “Reefer Madness.” The movie quickly morphs into a terse, tightly edited story (it’s just an hour and 10 minutes long) of a caring, supportive family getting thoroughly screwed over by their good-for-nothing son.

Lawrence Tierney is great as Vincent, the sociopath who ensures that no good deed goes unpunished. Tierney’s real-life brother, Edward, plays his sibling, Johnny Lubeck. Johnny puts aside his disdain for his paroled brother – Vincent’s criminal shenanigans drove their father to his grave – and tries to help him go straight. But aiding in Vincent’s reform is a losing battle, and Johnny ends up suffering dearly for his efforts.

Vincent, being the shark that he is, displays a genius in finding ways to exploit, humiliate and drive to the brink everyone who shows him trust and kindness. He gets off scot-free for his dirty dealings with his family. But when he masterminds an armored car robbery that goes wrong, his downfall is at hand. The authorities, you see, wear no kid gloves.

This low-budget flick avoids finding redeeming qualities in Vincent, which is one of its greatest strengths. Vincent has no softer side that makes him sympathetic to a broad audience, and any attempt to explain or justify his anti-social behavior would dilute the film's impact.

Vincent's end comes at the town dump -- not at all like the "top of the world" fiery and spectacular end James Cagney's Cody Jarrett meets in "White Heat" a couple of years earlier.

But like Cody, Vincent has little respect for anyone but his mother -- and we don't see much of it until the movie's final act. It's then and only then that we have a glimmer of sympathy for the hoodlum, when it's too late to save him. But then, "The Hoodlum" isn't about redemption. It's about payback, and Vincent receives that in spades.

Shadowy, But Hardly a Dead Ringer for Noir

Lots of vintage films are labeled films noir, yet when you look closely at them they don’t pass the noir litmus test. “Dark City” is one worth watching, but it flunks the exam.

You can spot a noir by it’s ending -- the hero is a victim of circumstances who naively wanders, or is lured, into big trouble and the outcome is, of course, less than positive. He faces a bleak fate -- probably death.

“Dark City” is a crime film, for sure, but the anti-hero at the center of the story, Danny Haley, played by Charlton Heston, isn’t the doomed, tormented soul that every noir leading man must be. In fact, Danny isn’t conflicted about his life’s work, running a bookie joint. But his shop keeps getting raided by the cops despite the payoffs to City Hall. To quote gang boss Johnny Caspar in a more modern gangster classic, “Miller’s Crossing,” “If you can't trust a fix, what can you trust?”

With the bookie business getting too hot, Danny goes after some easy pickings when he sets up a visiting hayseed in a rigged card game and causes the poor sucker to sign over a check for $5,000 that doesn’t belong to him.

The scheme looks foolproof until the cheated out-of-towner, Captain Garvey, played by Dean Jagger, takes his own life. Suddenly, everything unravels.

A young Henry Morgan plays one of Danny’s slightly dim sidekicks, and does the role proud. But the one to watch is Jack Webb. This may have been Webb’s best screen role as the weasely Augie, the annoying punk who is determined to cash the check that the group filched in the card game. Danny is dead set against cashing the check, and that puts his at odds with Augie.

Webb is, of course, better known for his straight and narrow, but ultimately cardboard roles as detectives, cops, and even a Marine Corps drill instructor. He hits his mark as a greasy whack job who is too impatient and intelligence-challenged to save his own life. If the film has a noir anti-hero it’s Webb. But he’s too much of a jerk to root for, so we are left with Heston’s Danny to guide us through this William Dieterle-directed, 1950 thriller.

Heston makes a believable and sympathetic Danny, a guy who could have done more with his life if he hadn’t settled in the rackets. Fran Garland (Lizabeth Scott), a torch singer, carries a torch for Danny, but he pays her little attention. The plot turns when Danny, using a false name, visits Captain Garvey’s widow, Victoria Winant (Viveca Lindfors), and romance begins to blossom. But the short-lived infatuation suddenly turns to ashes when she learns who Danny really is.

Needless to say, revenge is waiting on the doorstep for each member of Danny’s gang who helped take the chump for all he was worth. Toward the end, things look bleak for Danny, but he manages to turn the situation around and redeem himself. The climax presents us with an upbeat ending, which studio execs must have insisted on, but it simply ain’t noir. Too bad – it’s a good film that could have been great.

Crime Erupts Under the Streets of L.A.

Much of "He Walked by Night" is held together with the loose thread of documentary-style film-making. But those parts are no match or the last 20 minutes or so of the film that prowls the lower reaches of the city.

Richard Basehart is the killer who terrorizes L.A. and can't be stopped. Few have ever seen him, and that frustrates the L.A.P.D.

Jack Webb plays a supporting role as a police forensics officer, and it's obvious that this film provided the blueprint for the TV show that would become his shining achievement, "Dragnet."

The movie is an early, primitive police procedural that wants to be a German Neo-Expressionist art film. When the camera moves into the subterranean world of storm drains it's easy to imagine for a while that directors Carol Reed or perhaps Fritz Lang are calling the shots.

What makes it a must see is the wonderful black and white photography as Basehart becomes the human prey of the forces of justice.

Suddenly, Venice, Calif., stands in for Vienna. We remember Orson Welles being chased through that city's storm drains in "The Third Man." Oceans are crossed, and the European avante garde finds a safe refuge on the Pacific Coast.