Sunday, September 10, 2006
The Lady Gambles (1949)
Posted by Raven
Disclaimer: the views expressed here are solely those of the author and are not intended to offend, degrade, over analyze, surmise or insure the level of viewer pleasure or otherwise for the following film.
Pow! Biff! Socko! No kiddies it’s not Batman. It’s The Grand Dame of Noir, the Black Widow herself, Bucktooth Babs getting her protruding pearly whites rammed down her throat by a couple of disgruntled playmates in the opening scene of The Lady Gambles. No drawing room drama here in this pineapple upside-down cake of a film thank you very kindly.
Film rolls and we’re in the alley of any town USA. We see Joan Booth (Barbara Stanwyck) and a group of shiftless types viewed though the bars of a grating shooting dice. The image of those gathered behind bars in the first 10 seconds of the film sets the mood for what will follow during the next 99 minutes. The aforementioned back alley Orthodontia work is administered once a couple of unlucky losers wise up to Joan’s winning ways. They soon catch on our protagonist is using a pair of loaded dice. Her bungled attempt to hoodwink these dropouts from the Nathan Detroit School of Craps prompts them to dish out some swift back street justice. They proceed to take out their frustrations physically on Joan and take it on the lamb only when the shrill wail of a cop siren sounds. The two bolt for the hardscrabble streets and leave Joan beaten to a pulp and left in a heap with the rest of the garbage.
Quick cutaway to the general hospital and we’re introduced to Joan’s hound dog faced hubby (think Wendell Corey but it’s not), David Booth played by Robert Preston in his beefier, pencil thin mustache days. Here we also encounter the cynical Dr. Rojac who possesses the bed side manner of a rusty hacksaw. This charming envoy of the medical profession is portrayed by the always bankable John Hoyt. Now with storyteller (David) and listener (Dr. Rojac) in place, the bulk of the drama is told via that staple of noir; voice over narration and flashback.
What’s shared with doctor and viewer is the tale of a woman nuttier than your Aunt Martha’s holiday fruitcake. One with more flaws in her character than the blue opal ring Vincent Parry tried to pawn off on his wife. During the telling of the tale references are made to Joan being; a prostitute, a transsexual, masochistic, oh yeah and she likes to gamble too.
David tries his best to show us at first blush the ideal couple enjoying a working vacation in that most glamorous of desert oasis, the modern day Sodom and Gomorrah, Las Vegas. Oh how we are deceived, for soon we see the first nail fall from the shoe. Seems the Booth’s share their dwelling back in Chicago with Joan’s older, dominating sister Ruth. Played by Edith Barrett, Ruth sports a constant look of someone who’s just bitten into a rancid lemon. One would like to think her outward appearance hides the proverbial heart of gold, but no such luck as she’s a knockoff of Crappy Appleton and is “rotten to the core.” We’ll soon enough come to see Ruth’s lifelong attempt at dominating Joan as the basis for the self inflected agony the younger sibling is subjected to.
Joan’s transsexual tendencies manifest themselves when we see Joan or “Johnny” as David calls her/him constantly in the company of just men. Playing cards, shooting dice, and playing the ponies to the point she seems more at ease in these settings than those traditionally reserved at the time for the fairer sex. Even when dancing with David he has to remind her to stop leading and in one poker playing scene she’s wearing what at first glance appears to be male garb, a sport coat and tie.
Her masochistic behavior is demonstrated several times in both verbal and physical exchanges. For example when she says to David “…it’s like being whipped and kicked.” It’s as if she had first hand experience for during another scene with the home fatale he utters “…unless you want to get hurt.” To which she replies “I wish you’d quit saying that.” Her retort clearly shows this is not the first time such a phase has been put to her. Furthermore, this ain’t no broad that merely takes a tongue lashing neither. In addition to the opening scene beating, she’s also slapped by her sister and gets in the middle of a backroom brawl. Maybe we’re digging here, but let’s face it, this dame’s least worry would seem to be her addiction to compulsive gambling which figured so prominently in the films title, beginning and narrative retelling.
Stylistically, the film is 100% noir all the way with dramatic use of shading especially when the action moves to intimate settings, such as the private offices of the casino boss Corrigan. Think of this role going to Raymond Burr, but here it’s handled deftly and with the smugness of one who steals the poor box while exiting the confessional by Stephen McNally. In addition to being the most enjoyable character in the film, Corrigan delivers the best line when he announces to Joan and Ruth “I never allow anyone to use my first name…The name is Horace.” The inside joke of course being McNally’s true first name is Horace. Not only does Corrigan get the best line, he also parades around in more sports coats than you’d find during a sale in Filene’s Basemen. In the role of the home fatale he’s definitely got the three B’s working for him in overtime; bright, brassy, and ballsy. As you might guess he also gets the dame, at least temporarily but that’s another story.
Other support is provided at key points by a bevy of noir stalwarts: Esther Howard, Houseley Stevenson, Elliott Sullivan, John Harmon, even Tony Curtis and Jerry Paris get in the act. Also worth noting is the fact we’re spared the ubiquitous staged night club musical number which I for one fast-forward through each time they appear. There’s not a lot of filler here with only the quick side trip to Hoover Dam and Lake Mead inserted partly as a plug for the Department of the Interior in the film credits. However, is it interesting to note even the trip to the lake offers up more insight to Joan? While boating, she and David go for a swim, upon exiting the water she comments how cold the lake is. David cracks back about it being as cold as his wife, thus giving us one more glimpse at the fragile, soon to be shattered Joan.
While the overall presentation is dynamite the ending lacks what should be the resulting explosive finish. As is all too often the case, the studio suits throw a bucket of water on the fuse in order to send the viewing public home with a warm glow of Joan’s redemption in the arms of a loving husband. We’re left to limp out of the viewing with is the “love conquers all” corn-ball of an ending which is about as satisfying as a snap shot of Mamie Yokum in a bikini. While disappointing its not enough to knock this beauty off the top shelf of must watch noirs from 1949.
A couple of side notes on the director of The Lady Gambles, Michael Gordon. The Lady Gambles would be one of several noirs to his credit (Crime Doctor, The Web, Secret of Convict Lake) but perhaps more impressive is the noir who’s who’s he directed in addition to Babs; Ida Lupino, Glenn Ford, Edmond O’Brien, Dan Duryea, Ann Savage, and Whit Bissell. During the House Un-American Activities Committee hearings his refusal to be a cooperative witness ended his promising directorial career. That is until the late 50’s when he was brought back to Hollywood and found new life at Universal directing lighter works staring the likes of Doris Day, Rock Hudson, Dean Martin and the talent that is Joey Bishop.
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