I love film noir, those black and white crime thrillers Hollywood invented and the French fawned over. I’ve seen so many and added another,
Dangerous Crossing (1955), to the list last night, courtesy of Netflix. One of the many great attributes of noir is that the story is told efficiently. This one runs only 75 minutes. Despite questionable plot points, it is interesting and absorbing. The story is simple: a woman just married to a husband she has known only four weeks boards an ocean liner, where the man goes missing. She is suspected of being crazy. Jeanne Crain stars and delivers a solid performance. She is not considered anything more than a competent actress, although she was nominated for an Oscar for her portrayal of a woman passing as white in
Pinky (1949). A devout Catholic, she had seven children and remained married to the same man, a successful businessman, until his death, despite rocky patches where divorce papers were filed. She died at 78 in 2003, two months after he did. Her youngest son, Christopher Brinkman, the original lead guitarist of Jane’s Addiction, died of a drug overdose. Carl Betz, who did 272 episodes as the husband in
The Donna Reed Show, was Crain’s co-star, along with Michael Rennie, in
Dangerous Crossing. He played tailback for what is now Carnegie Mellon University in the 1938 Sugar Bowl. He was taken by cancer at 56 in 1976. Rennie, a heavy smoker, succumbed to emphysema at 61 in 1971. He will always be remembered for his turn as the alien in
The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951). He said of himself: “I suppose women find me attractive because I am polite, charming, courteous... a gentleman. My romantic reputation is an exaggeration. The realities are a bit different.” Here’s a pic of Crain, who also starred in the infamous
Hot Rods to Hell (1967, facts from IMDb):
I took the floating book shop to an old nook today, the busy corner of 86th Street and Bay Parkway. I didn't sell any books but I witnessed an interesting high and a low. Dennis, who has purchased three of my books, came staggering by, as disheveled as a homeless person, obviously drunk. He sat beside me and tried and failed to light a cigarette. "I gotta stop drinkin'," he said quietly. He smelled as if he hadn't bathed in a week. To my chagrin, I hoped he would leave. Fortunately, he did. Soon Preacher approached, offering a hand and a hug. I hadn't seen him for two years, since a manager of the TD Bank asked me to vacate the premises. He was as positive as ever, smiling as he passed out leaflets. One of his compatriots did the preaching this day. Then the rain came and we all left the area. And now the sun is shining, the sky clearing, which will allow the crowds to enjoy the fireworks. I may not have sold any books on the street today, but I discovered a web sale. My thanks to whomever bought
A Hitch in Twilight at Amazon the past week.
Vic's 3rd Novel: http://tinyurl.com/7e9jty3
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