THE EARLY SHOW, PT. 47

You've got to get up mighty early to find two movies directed by people better known (and more talented) as actors; one of those actors starring in another picture; and a Magnacolor short starring a one-time Shakesperean actor now slumming in stoogeville. Aren't you glad you stayed in bed while I did the heavy lifting?

UNUSUAL OCCUPATIONS (#23) (1940): Running for 12 years, Paramount's short subject series Unusual Occupations seems to have picked up where Warners' Ripley's Believe it or Not! left off. Not that anything is impossible to believe, since everything is fully documented in almost-glorious Magnacolor. 

Yet a glance at the entire series takes a rather liberal interpretation of the word "occupations". The Dionne Quintuplets? Cylinder records? Clams that look like ducks? None of these are jobs. Still, some of what we see in this chapter certainly count as side hustles. Painting miniature portraits (Jesus, FDR, and Hitler among other subjects), creating art out of flowers, or growing pumpkins in the shape of human skulls could earn folks a buck or two. But what of the gas station attendant who built a hand-cranked machine to kick yourself in the ass when you've done something stupid -- no charge!

The longest section belongs to John Barrymore, whose occupation on his tax return was "Actor" but in Unusual Occupations appears to be "Collector of Dead Things". As he leads radio announcer Ken Carpenter around his mansion, Barrymore shows off the collection of fish he's caught, animals he's shot, stuffed heads, and a dinosaur tooth, and, not surprisingly, lots of guns. Comfortably ensconced in his self-parody stage of life, Barrymore's deliberately hammy delivery (you have no idea how someone can roll his r's with such ease) and double-takes entertained moviegoers who avoided his classy productions years earlier. Whatever pays the hunting bills, I guess. Although I wonder if Barrymore thought he deserved a round or two with the ass-kicking machine for allowing booze to destroy his career.

BONUS POINTS: A still of Barrymore from this particular Unusual Occupations appeared in a book about film restoration which I owned as an adolescent. It took over 50 years before discovering the movie online. Too bad its current owner plastered a timer and FOOTAGE FILE watermark over the entire movie.

MY TRUE STORY (1951): Columbia Pictures must have run out of radio series to adapt before giving True Story magazine the movie treatment. My True Story appears to have been a one-shot entry into the non-genre, perhaps as a bone tossed to down-on-his-luck Mickey Rooney to direct. A true story about his life would have been a lot more interesting.

Femme convict Ann Martin is sprung from the slammer with the promise of a job from a kindly confectioner claiming to have been a friend of her mother. He is, in fact, part of her three-man pre-prison jewel robbery gang. Ann is set up as the caretaker for dowager Mme. Rousseau in order to steal the secret ingredient for the perfume her late husband created: oil of myrrh.  While Ann starts having second thoughts, the gang is willing to kill the guy who runs the perfume factory, and, if necessary, Ann's bf, and Mme. Rousseau herself. Beware of three wiseguys carrying myrrh!

All due credit to My True Story for coming up with oil of myrrh rather than jewels or money as the criminals' target. But a B-picture starring no one of importance rises or falls on the script and direction. Neither are particularly special -- the dialogue is run-of-the-mill, while Rooney's directorial style seems to be holding the end of each scene for several seconds after the last line is spoken before fading out. Aldo Ray (billed as Aldo DaRae) is featured in his first movie role as Rousseau's chauffeur who's also part of the criminal gang. As for the rest of the cast, Wilton Graff (as the gang leader) seems to be imitating Vincent Price, while character actor Ben Weldon is the only familiar face. Strictly for B-movie fans, My True Story makes for a somewhat interesting if long 67 minutes. 

BONUS POINTS: The ridiculous finale tries to convince you that Ann's change of heart means she'll never serve a day in prison for taking part in a criminal act that wound up with two people dead. 

THE BIG OPERATOR (1959): Any '50s crime picture  beginning with a guy getting knocked on the noggin and tossed into the back of a cement truck definitely gets my attention -- especially when followed by credits accompanied by a brass & drums-heavy theme common in the late '50s. Welcome to the world of corrupt union leader "Little Joe" Braun, who will stop at nothing from preventing honest union guys from testifying against him in a federal investigation -- like torture, murder, and when that's not enough, the threat of torture and murder to be inflicted on a kidnapped child. A guy's gotta keep his job, y'know.

As in Quicksand and Drive a Crooked Road, Mickey Rooney is superlative as Braun. No need for him to give his character any complexity, either -- he's a just an extraordinarily violent, angry guy towered over by the world yet terrifies all who come in contact with him. (You can't tell me the 5'1" Rooney didn't carry around a tremendous grudge -- his onscreen anger is too convincing not to be real.) And as long as he's onscreen, The Big Operator makes for a riveting good show. Unfortunately, unlike his other two movies mentioned above, there's way too much time devoted to the supporting characters, one of whom is set on fire. (Just to set things straight, the hitman did it on his own accord, forcing Braun to admonish him, "Look, you don't set anybody on fire without my permission!")

That supporting cast, though, is dizzying. Jackie Coogan (The Addams Family)! Jim Backus (Gilligan's Island)! Jay North (Dennis the Menace)! Mel Torme (The Fearmakers)! Vampira, Charles Chaplin, Jr, Mamie van Doren, Joey Foreman, Ray Danton, Steve Cochran -- all in Cinemascope! Their presence alone threaten to overshadow Rooney from time to time. But for my money, you can keep the star of jolly MGM musicals and heartwarming Andy Hardy pictures -- I'll take his angry little chumps, doormats, and criminals any time.

BONUS POINTS: Jackie Coogan -- oddly also receiving a "Dialogue Coach" credit -- played opposite Charles Chaplin, Jr.'s dad in The Kid in 1921. 

GANGSTER STORY (1959): There must have been something in the air in the 1950s for
actors wanting to spread their unsteady wings. For not only did Mickey Rooney The Big Operator, Walter Matthau stepped behind the camera for the crime picture Gangster Story. And, as with Rooney's movie, the poster claims (meaning lies) it's a true story. The main difference is that My True Story at least looks professional, while Gangster Story is probably the worst B-movie starring an actor who was already established -- if, admittedly, not exactly famous yet. 

Gangster Story is the usual, uh, story about a gangster. Jack Martin, on the run from the police, robs a bank -- by making it look like he's rehearsing a movie! -- before being found by the yeggs on the payroll of criminal ringleader Earl Dawson, who hires him to join the gang. Martin's first job is to rob the safe from a country club. While Dawson intends to keep his new employee on the payroll, Martin wants to run away to Mexico with Carol, a librarian who has fallen in love with him for no damn good reason. A subsequent shootout with Dawson and the cops puts everybody's plan to bed for good.

OK, not exactly original but serviceable for a 65-minute quickie. The problem is Matthau the director. Working with a penny-ante budget and non-union crew, he appeared to deliberately make sure that Gangster Story looked strictly amateur hour. Camera shots consistently off-center and occasionally out of focus, dialogue looped in during post-production, ham-fisted editing, and a score that sounds like needle drops -- everything leaves you asking yourself questions. Was this Matthau's attempt at a calling card to break out of supporting roles into leads? Did he surround himself with terrible actors to make himself look that much better? And how the hell did his career survive this piece of junk? If Matthau the actor wasn't as good as he was, Gangster Story could be mistaken for an Ed Wood production. Definitely a must-see. (Google the title and see just how many fly-by-night video companies have released it with covers featuring photos of 1970s Matthau.)

BONUS POINTS: The only name I recognized in the credits, Radley Metzger (the editor), would later become famous as the auteur of artsy softcore epics. When that's a step up in a career, you know you started at the dregs.

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