FILMS MAIN

The Films of Julie London

1958 (part 2)

Voice in the Mirror       Man of the West

Voice in the Mirror

1958. Universal International. 103 mins. Not available on VHS or DVD.   IMDb page.

Gordon Kay - Producer

Harry Keller - Director

Lawrence B. Marcus - Screenwriter
William H. Daniels - Cinematographer

George A. Gittens - Editor
Henry Mancini - Score
Julie London, Bobby Troup - Songwriters
Joseph E. Gershenson - Musical Direction/Supervision
Alexander Golitzen - Set Designer, Art Director

Richard H. Riedel - Art Director

Bill Thomas - Costume Designer

Cast:

Richard Egan - Jim Burton
Julie London - Ellen Burton
Walter Matthau - Dr. Leon Karnes

Arthur O'Connell - William Tobin
Troy Donahue - Paul Cunningham
Harry Bartell - Harry Graham
Peggy Converse - Paul's Mother
Ann Doran - Mrs. Devlin
Mae Clarke - Mrs. Robbins
Hugh Sanders - Mr. Hornsby
Ken Lynch - Bartender
Doris Singleton - Liz
Dave Barry - Pianist
Alan Dexter - Bartender

PLOT: In this sensitive drama, a commercial artist is devastated by his tiny daughter's death and takes to drinking to numb the terrible pain. Soon he has become a full-blown alcoholic. His loving wife and caring doctor are unable to help. He wants to stop drinking, but he simply cannot until he meets another alcoholic who is also desperate to stop. Together, they support each other as they withdraw from the debilitating drug. Later the fellow founds an organization designed to help other drunks dry out by offering them the same kind of support he had. Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

New York Times review by Howard Thompson  (August 14, 1958)
They applauded "Voice in the Mirror" yesterday at the Fifty-eighth Street R.K.O. Theatre. It was a good sound, spontaneously mirroring the sincerity of an interesting little film on alcoholism from Universal. With Richard Egan and Julie London co-starred, this doggedly earnest and often gripping drama quietly dropped into second place on various neighborhood double-bills.

As written by Larry Marcus, this is the story of a well-off commercial artist who through alcohol loses everything but his loyal wife and, goaded by a tough-talking doctor and his own conscience, begins salvaging other alcoholics right off the street. In the picture's most interesting dramatic aspect, here is a case of the blind leading the blind. It ends, after a ten-year lapse, as the reformed, prosperous-looking hero is applauded into a large, beaming gathering of men and women he has saved—literally, his personal Alcoholics Anonymous organization.

"One man in a thousand," murmured one customer on the way out, putting his finger on the film's strength and perhaps weakness (or was it, considering that applause?) Alertly written, modestly produced (Gordon Kay) and consistently well-acted, the picture has incidents and dialogue that sustain a realistic cutting edge. This is one of those little films that may lack complete conviction but "pulls you in," nevertheless. And somehow, by a small miracle, one movie on alcoholism manages to resist telegraphing a happy finale. Add, finally, an effective musical score by Henry Mancini, and a director, Harry Keller, who seems to know what he's doing every minute.

Now as for what Mr. Egan does so philanthropically—fine. But why, exactly? The opening nimbly leapfrogs any real motivation for his addiction. The death of an only child is briefly mentioned and—bang!—the fellow is practically on Skid Row, nursed by a remarkably patient wife, Miss London.

Furthermore, once he initiates his extremely spunky plan of wholesale gutter rescue, he attributes it, vaguely and repeatedly, to "spiritual awareness." What kind? And why doesn't he elaborate, at least to his recruits in their testimonial-swapping meetings?

As good as Mr. Egan and the wisely restrained Miss London are, Arthur O'Connell, as his first, pathetic recruit, and Walter Matthau, as the sharp-tongued doctor, steal the picture. "Voice in the Mirror" can't scrape such glittering alcoholism tracts as "The Lost Week-End" or "I'll Cry Tomorrow"—or even "Smash-Up." But it stands firm as a good, small sermon on a large problem.

Man of the West

1958. United Artists. 100 mins. Available on VHS in US, DVD in Europe.  IMDb page.

Walter Mirisch - Producer

Anthony Mann - Director

Reginald Rose - Screenwriter

Will C. Brown - Book Author

Ernest Haller - Cinematographer
Hilyard M. Brown - Production Designer
Edward Boyle - Set Designer
Jack Solomon - Sound/Sound Designer
Leigh Harline - Music Score

Yvonne Wood - Costume Designer
Emile LaVigne - Makeup

Cast:
Gary Cooper - Link Jones
Julie London - Billie Ellis
Lee J. Cobb - Dock Tobin
Arthur O'Connell - Sam Beasley
Jack Lord - Coaley
John Dehner - Claude
Royal Dano - Trout
Robert J. Wilke - Ponch
J. Williams - Alcutt
Guy Wilkerson - Conductor
Frank Ferguson - Marshal
Emory Parnell - Gribble

PLOT: Anthony Mann's final foray into the western genre is a disturbing examination of man's baser instincts, rising in intensity to the level of Shakespearean tragedy. The film begins as seemingly naive Link (Gary Cooper) leaves his family to take a train to Fort Worth. Also on the train is saloon singer Billie Ellis (Julie London), who is compelled by con man Sam Beasley (Arthur O'Connell) to cheat Link out of his money. But the con comes to naught when the nefarious Dock Tobin (Lee J. Cobb) and his gang rob the train. Link takes Billie and Beasley to Tobin's cabin, where it is revealed the mild-mannered Link is Tobin's nephew and a former member of his cutthroat gang. Dock Tobin draws up a plan to rob a bank which the outlaws find agreeable, but they're reluctant to have Link rejoin their group. Soon it becomes apparent why they feel this way; when Link rejoins his old gang, his shy demeanor falls away and his outlaw instincts rise to the surface. Paul Brenner, All Movie Guide

New York Times review by Howard Thompson  (October 2, 1958)
"Man of the West" and "Cop Hater," two United Artists films that opened yesterday at neighborhood theatres, have one curious thing in common—staginess. Very oddly indeed, while this quality almost ruins the latter entry, the expert staging of the former has resulted in a good, lean, tough little Western.

For one thing, this Walter M. Mirisch production puts a veteran cowboy named Gary Cooper back in the saddle at the head of a trim cast including Lee J. Cobb, Julie London and Arthur O'Connell. Not only does he still ride as if a horse taught him, but he also mops up the prairie in one of the meanest fist-scrounging duels we've seen in years.

Secondly, Reginald Rose has written a script (taken from a Will C. Brown novel) that carbolically peels a tale of evil down to its very bones. Well-acted and beautifully photographed in color and Cinema-Scope, the picture has been directed by Anthony Mann like a stalking panther. The staginess lies in the deliberate pacing and some lengthy stretches of dialogue, which may or may not come from Mr. Rose's television background.

Mr. Cooper plays a reformed prairie killer who pretends to rejoin his former buddies, a gang of sadists run by Mr. Cobb, to save Miss London and Mr. O'Connell, two harmless wanderers. Refreshingly, love doesn't bloom as the danger mounts. While Miss London wistfully yearns for Mr. Cooper, for instance, he turns out to be a realistic family man.

The plot is actually little more than a battle of wits between Mr. Cooper and Mr. Cobb's gang. The turning point, a three-way gun battle in a ghost town, is a pip. This is a small picture, but it does have a cryptic defiance and an aura of snakelike evil that gets one....

1958, part 1      1958, part 2      1959