We finished up A Close Call for Boston Blackie (1946) in the last couple of days, part of a series of movies involving the title character (played by Chester Morris), a reformed thief, one of which I’ve reviewed recently. (Before you wonder, no, we don’t have the series, our DVR picks these up at random.)
The previous review indicated a mundane, fluffy bit of entertainment, and, indeed, as Boston and The Runt wave farewell to their cop friends in front of the building housing Boston’s apartment, an assault on a woman takes place across the street. Zounds! In broad daylight, no less! Their dash to the rescue is not soon enough to catch the arch-fiends, but the lady turns out to be an old flame of Boston’s, Gerry. She’s unhurt, unlike my teeth, which are beginning to itch already – they’re allergic to predictability. It’s a bit early, but it is a B-Class movie from the ’40s, right?
But my teeth gain some surcease when Boston and the Runt escort Gerry to Boston’s apartment and they hear a baby squalling – in the apartment. Without asking how she gained access to his apartment, Gerry reveals the baby is her’s, by her inmate husband, and she secreted him with Boston because the hubby has been paroled and she’s terrified of him. At some point the police are called.
And then, yep, hubby shows up in a towering rage and a handgun held on all of them. Will Boston play the hero? Isn’t it, er, a bit early in the movie to bring together a resolution?
And the door opens a trifle and someone else shoots the husband. Whoa. The teeth are much happier. Gerry flips out and dumps the baby on Boston and the Runt; the Runt takes the baby and legs it out the window as the police come in, wondering what’s going on with gun shots. Eventually, they find the hubby in the closet. Lacking a missing suspect, Boston is the default selection.
Still with me?
This is where it really gets interesting. In a side scene, we learn that the baby isn’t even Gerry’s, but rather the son of criminal, who, with his partner, is going to extort money from the father of the hubby under the guise that the baby is his grandson.
Meanwhile, down at the police station, the cops try to shake information out of Boston, who’ll barely own up to his own hair. Finally, the assistant to the detective, forever portrayed as an idiot, is left in charge of our eponymous hero, all the while protesting he should be practicing his wrestling moves for the police wrestling competition. Alone, Boston offers to help him practice, and once again my dental work is in distress.
Briefly.
The cop executes a simple throw, bringing Boston to the floor, who laughs and says he’s impressed, but says he’d like to try again. Then Boston throws the cop to the floor (rather clumsily, but the cop is rather larger than Boston), and the cop is knocked cold. Boston laughs, and exits stage right, pulling on coat.
I shrug. Right?
And then the cop, the idiot who catches on to double meaning word play 30 seconds after everyone else, pops an eye open, laughs, and also exits stage right.
Now that’s interesting. Because it’s unexpected.
There are more twists, but I will say the writers, or whoever was in charge, failed to take advantage of these surprises to any real advantage. It is, after all, a B class movie. (But then, so was Casablanca, yet it’s a classic.) The cinematography is undistinguished, the pacing basically the same throughout, the acting competent. But the story at least kept my interest – as each scene unfolded, I asked myself, what will surprise me here? And they did. An unexpected choice. A twist showing a new motivation. Wait, who’s this character? Oh .. that actually makes sense.
Unlike the latter half of the latest Star Wars installment.
I shan’t go on to any more detail of this movie, but I will say that this reminded me, or, better, clarified for me, a certain nature of story telling. The clash of two individuals, determined and resourceful, over something, is one of the most important parts of storytelling. Too often we don’t see resourceful characters; these colorless dudes are called spear-carriers, doomed to carry messages to real people, and then die with a knife in the back. And showing the resourcefulness in a subplot may be even more important than the main plot, because it shows they have lives, they have thoughts and dreams, they have common decency (“Save the cat!“) – or not. All those things that make us believe they are close approximations to real people – and that the choices they make, and the consequences thereof, may have application in our own lives.
