The two gentlemen scribes responsible for last week’s stirring Crime Does Not Pay saga, Hit-and-Run Driver (1935)—Robert Lees and Frederic I. Rinaldo—are back again with a tale directed by Edward Cahn: The Perfect Set-Up (1936). Heck, they’re getting the entire band back together because actor William Tannen also returns as the MGM Reporter identified only as…Jim.
JIM: Ladies and gentlemen…as the
MGM Reporter, it’s been my duty to present case histories of that endless book
of proof, Crime Does Not Pay…
Now available for Kindle and Nook. (And really, what’s “it’s been my duty”
nonsense? You’re paid to do this.)
JIM: I would like Captain of Detectives Hewitt to add another chapter to that book…he will tell you the story of Alan Saunders, one of the most unusual criminals of our time…as he knows it…
HEWITT: Thanks, Jim…
“…but if I’m going to be helping you with that book, that
goddamn advance check had better be in my mailbox by tomorrow morning.” He’s a little unrecognizable clean-shaven,
but the actor-writer playing Hewitt is Frank Shannon—fondly remembered here at
Rancho Yesteryear as “Dr. Zarkov” from the Flash
Gordon serials hat trick (Flash Gordon [1936], Flash Gordon’s Trip to Mars [1938], and
Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe [1940]).
I always get a giggle whenever I spot Shannon in a non-Zarkov role, like
his turn as “Sir John Mansfield” in The Bride’s Play (1922).
HEWITT: …I believe this case will be a great lesson to those who feel dissatisfied with life because success does not come easily to them…Saunders was a brilliant boy…when he graduated with top honors from a large technical school, his teachers predicted a great future for him…but times were hard, and the best he could get for himself was testing the finished product of a large radio factory…
The young man who strays off the straight-and-narrow path is
played by William “Bill” Henry, an MGM contract player you might have seen in
such flicks as The
Thin Man (1934—as creepy Gilbert Wynant), China Seas (1935), and Tarzan
Escapes (1936). He was also a
member-in-good-standing of director John Ford’s stock company, with appearances
in the likes of The
Last Hurrah (1958) and The Man
Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962). (Of interest to the TDOY faithful are two appearances in Mayberry R.F.D., covered
here previously on the blog: “Driver’s
Education” and “Millie,
the Secretary.”) As Saunders, Henry
instructs his fellow factory prole (unidentified at the [always reliable] IMDb)
that they should “check one of the tubes” when a worker named “Jim” (another
unidentified actor) approaches him and, after asking how things are going,
tells him to “keep up the good work.”
ALAN: My boss…we graduate from the same class—only I was valedictorian and he barely managed to scrape through…
EMPLOYEE: Well, what do you
expect? His father’s a big stockholder in the company!
“Welcome to the meritocracy, pallie!”
ALAN: Yeah…the lucky stiff…if I had his
money, I’d…
EMPLOYEE: You’d do what…?
ALAN: I’d do all the things I can’t on my measly salary…
“Food…clothing…shelter…you know, the little luxuries in life.” Alan’s co-worker tells him to put a sock in it because he’s just spotted the president of the company headed their way. (The IMDb draws a blank on the actor playing this guy, too.)
NELSON: Oh, Saunders…
ALAN: Yes, sir?
NELSON: I’ve been looking over
that television screen idea of yours…it certainly is novel…
“That’s where I got the idea—from a novel!”
NELSON: Oh, not so fast—I said
it was novel…but I hardly think it’s practical…
“To be honest, we’re just stalling for time until we can
figure out a way to steal it without giving you credit. Legal’s looking at it right now, and we’ll
let you know when we present you your severance check.” Okay, I’m just poking a little fun here—Alan
acknowledges that it’s still in the experimental stage, but with a little more
work and some extra men on the job it can shake off its irksome “practicality.” But Nelson pooh-poohs the young man’s
ambition, dismissing him with “You’re rather impatient, aren’t you?” Dude just can’t catch a break, and he
complains as such to his roommate Chet (J. Anthony Hughes) in the next scene:
CHET: So you’re beginning to
realize they’re playing you for a sucker,
huh?
ALAN: Maybe you’re right,
Chet—if that’ll give you any satisfaction…nah…the answer is still “no”…
CHET: Why, with your brains you
and me could make more dough in a day than you make now in five years…
ALAN: Yeah…and find myself
behind the eight ball? No thanks…
Hey…it worked for George O’Hanlon. Chet presses his pal to consider this
criminal venture with him, seeing that he has all that technical know-how. “By the time you’re a success, you’ll be too
old to enjoy it,” he persuasively argues against soul-sucking, nose-against-the-grindstone
capitalism. Besides, Chet would be
“taking all the risks.”
CHET: You got everything to gain and nothing to lose…
ALAN (after a pause): What do
you want me to do?
You got him, Chester—now reel him in slowly! All Chet wants is a little information on
“burglar alarms and how to stop them.” What
remains of Alan’s conscience start nibbling on him—“I’ve got a date”—but it’s
too late: the journey down the Perdition Interstate has begun.
In the next scene, Alan explains to his gal, Mary Fulton,
why he begged off on their rendezvous the previous evening. I can understand why a lot of these bit
players go unidentified at the IMDb, but the actress playing Mary is pivotal to
the action in this short, so omitting her details is puzzling. Then again, perhaps we should rest easy
knowing someone hasn’t come around and volunteered erroneous information
(“That’s Scarlett Johansson!”).
ALAN: I’m sorry…but at the last
minute I found out I had to work…
What was that about "the same old line?" The two lovers have an innocuous
conversation about how Alan is stymied in his ambitions at work, with Mary
trying to reassure him not to be so discouraged. When he posits the notion of robbing a bank,
she replies: “That would take care of your rent
problems for twenty years anyhow.”
(Yes, I tittered at this.) A
paperboy greets Mary and drops off a load of the latest edition on the
counter…and here are your headlines:
Hokey smoke, Bullwinkle! Looks like Chet occupied his time wisely last night! Alan then remembers he left something on the stove in his apartment, and he heads back to his domicile to see that his roomie is playing cards with a friend, Dave Mayne (Harry Tyler).
ALAN (with a laugh): What do you
mean?
CHET: Oh, that’s all right—I
told Dave all about you…you see, uh…he’s my…business
associate…
ALAN (smiling): I see by the
papers where business is picking up…
Hey! These things are
supposed to be unintentionally
funny! “You’re a smart kid, Al,” Dave
gushes to his new friend. “I think Chet
and I can do you some good.” Dave takes
a drag on his cigarette and stubs it out in an ashtray…and then a dissolve
reveals that ashtray has gotten a bit fuller with the passage of time. (Nice little directorial touch by Cahn.)
DAVE: Our only problem is—what business could we open that we could carry on legitimately? That’s where you come in…
ALAN: Go on…
CHET: Look, pal—you know radios…so here’s our proposition: you,
Dave and I open a radio store…we put up the money, but…you actually run the place…
ALAN: All we want you to do is
sort of act as our…technical advisor…we’ll
do the rest…
CHET: There’s a barrel of money in it…
ALAN: I know, but…well, give me
some time to think it over, will ya?
Two seconds later…
Hey, this is a twenty-minute short—time moves quickly or not at all. Alan is seated in the back room of the shop (balancing the books, maybe?) when Chet and Dave return from their latest venture in crime, slapping each other on the back over Alan’s cleverness.
ALAN: Hey—did you put the old
padlock back on the gate?
CHET: No…no, I didn’t…
ALAN: You didn’t?
CHET: Well, what of it? They’re both your locks…
That’s when Alan patiently explains to his boneheaded friend that it’s slip-ups like this that put the police work into overdrive when it comes to these two-reel morality plays.
DAVE: Too late now…
ALAN: It’s not too late—I’m not gonna take that risk…
CHET: You? Where do you get that stuff?
DAVE: Yeah…if you’re so worried,
why don’t you start takin’ some of
the chances yourself?
CHET: Yeah…
So Alan decides to go back to change the padlock before his
dumb hoodlum friends are rounded up by the gendarmes. “From then on,” Hewitt drones on to Jim,
“Saunders took an active part in the crimes he planned. Even after his marriage to Mary he wasn’t
satisfied. He had it all figured out—he
believed he could keep his criminal career separate from his social life
indefinitely. But all the time inside
his brain, a slow poison was at work...crime!”
(Captain Hewitt seems to have forgotten that Bruce Wayne got a lot of
shit done as Batman, and that never seemed to put a crimp in his social activities.)
ALAN (to his associates): From now on, we’re going out for the bigger things…as long as we’re in it this deep, let’s make it really worth our while…
The origin of “go big or go home,” by the way.
ALAN: The cops will be looking
for guys with previous records…they’ll
never suspect a bunch of rank amateurs like
us…
And believe me—there ain’t nobody ranker. A montage of front
page headlines and close-ups of cut wires and opened safes follows. Everything seems to go according to plan
until one night “The Rank Amateur Mob” robs an establishment with a movie
theatre nearby. As they make their
getaway, Alan spots a man working outside putting up a theatre poster and draws
his pistola…
…it’s character actor Robert Dudley, so you can guess at the implications. Alan guns down the Weenie King! As the Hot Dog Monarch draws his rations, director Edward Cahn demonstrates how not only to properly hype current MGM product (a 1935 film with Spencer Tracy and James Stewart as his sidekick) but making a funny in-joke at the same time.
ALAN: I had to…he saw me…
A visibly shaken Alan returns home and listens to the police calls on his radio—when he doesn’t hear a report of the murder of the Weenie King, he relaxes a bit…but then the ol’ ball-and-chain enters, and he’s going to have to make small talk. (“Where have you been, dear?” “Oh, the usual…cards with the boys…busting a cap into old geezers…you know…”)
ALAN: You’re still up?
MARY: It’s late…I was getting worried…
ALAN: Haven’t I told you not to wait up for me?!! (Tugging at his collar) I can take care of
myself…
MARY: I know, darling…but you’ve
been acting so nervous lately…
“It’s as if you were leading two lives—one good, and the
other pure dagnasty evil!” The Rank
Amateur Mob’s reign of terror continues with the looting of the Lynton
Bank—which results in the death of two individuals. Witnesses are only able to identify the
trio’s getaway car, so Alan instructs Dave to get rid of the vehicle because
it’s “hot.”
DAVE: Say, Chet…I’m drivin’ that
Packard tonight…we better change that battery—I don’t wanna take any chances
gettin’ stalled…
CHET (seeing a battery on a work
table): Why—here’s a new one…
DAVE: All right—play it safe…fix
these numbers…
Chet files down the identification number on the battery. “When I’m through filing, I’ll burn the rest down with acid.” The stolen Packard is later identified—despite it being burnt to a crisp—by the gendarmes by the engine number. One of the detectives (Ben Taggart) notices the battery, and Chief Hewitt asks the car’s owner if he had changed it recently—the man hasn’t, though he intended to. Can they identify the numbers on the battery even though some miscreant has gone at them by filing them down and then burning them with acid? No problemo, says a police technician. “You see, I figure the heavy stamping machine that puts these numbers on at the factory hits with such force that it changes the molecular structure of the whole metal.” Whoa—check out the big brain on Mr. Wizard! But he’s right; a simple chemical process later, and those numbers are easily read…allowing the police to stop by the humble shop of Saunders and Associates.
Batteries have a permanent record! |
I laughed out loud at this, only because it reminded me of a similar situation in the 1945 serial Brenda Starr, Reporter. Well, Alan must—in the vernacular of the underworld—“take it on the lam,” so he phones the little woman to let her know that he won’t be home for dinner…for about twenty years. Okay, I’m just jinkin’ ya—he tells her to grab a hat and coat and meet him at the corner of 6th and Hope. The couple are later stopped at a traffic light when a newsboy happens by hawking the latest edition of The Evening Blade…and this cherce headline:
“Muffin…there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Alan is forced to tell Mary the sordid truth about his criminal activities, and she is terribly upset.
MARY: We didn’t need that kind of money…
ALAN: I only did it for you…you
haven’t any kick coming…ah, as soon as this thing blows over we’ll have
everything we’ve ever wanted…
MARY (tearful): I won’t have Alan…
ALAN: Sure you will…they’ll
never catch me…
MARY: You’re not the Alan I mean…you’re Al Saunders…killer!
ALAN: Mary!
MARY: You killed the Alan I loved…you killed
him like you did everyone…
ALAN: Shut up!
Oh, yeah—this relationship is just going to blossom into
something truly fulfilling and rewarding.
“Now you listen to me,” Alan tells Mrs. Alan in a menacing tone. “You’re my wife, understand? So no
matter what happens we stick
together.”
Alan is so clever he's able to escape capture, leaving only his clothes behind. |
That silhouette of the detective reminds me of an omnipresent radio narrator whose whistled a lot. ("So you thought no one would know about your theft of Alan's invention...didn't you, Nelson?") |
Alan’s brilliant invention—that Nelson’s company, for all intents and purposes, “liberated,” setting in motion the kid’s swift descent into crime—will prove to be his downfall. Captain Hewitt gambles that Alan is just narcissistic enough to want to see his device deployed at an exhibit Hewitt persuades Nelson to host…and sure enough, as the place is crawling with more cops than a Krispy Kreme with a “Hot” sign, Alan (check out his pencil-thin moustache) is spotted with his familiar tell:
"I lived in a tough neighborhood...a tough neighborhood! I once asked a cop where the subway was and he said 'I don't know...no one's ever made it!'" |
HEWITT: No one is asking her to
testify against you, Saunders…she’ll have enough trouble defending herself!
ALAN: What do you mean?
HEWITT: I mean she’s going on
trial with you as an accomplice for
murder and grand theft!
ALAN: No!
HEWITT: She’s in this as much as
you are!
ALAN: No, you can’t—you must be crazy!
HEWITT: Take ‘em out!
ALAN: No…no…she had nothing to
do with this! I’m guilty, I admit it…but
you better leave her out of it, see…
HEWITT: I’m afraid it’s a little
too late for that…the law will have
to take its course…
Man! This guy Hewitt
is a real hardass! “Yes, Jim,” he
solemnly concludes his tale, “Saunders not only made a wreck out of his own
life—but his crimes brought shame and suffering to the one person he really loved. His accomplishments will not bring him honor
in the world of science…he is merely a case record in the underworld of
crime. A case brought to a sudden close…at the end of a rope.”
I’m guessing the judge that sentenced Alan to death was a Preston Sturges fan. Next week: Foolproof (1936)—g’bye now!
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