Crime Does Not Pay #8: “The Public Pays” (10/10/36)

As the blogosphere goes wild for the triumphant return of Thrilling Days of Yesteryear’s critically-acclaimed dissection weekly of the Crime Does Not Pay shorts (hoo boy), we learn this week that while crime may not pay the public certainly does.  (Says so in the title.  They do need two forms of I.D., though, if they’re paying by check.)  The Public Pays (1936) won the CDNP franchise its first of two Academy Award statuettes for Best Short Subject (Two-Reel); the series would garner seven nominations in total during its twelve-year run on motion picture screens.  (Props to veteran scribe John C. Higgins, who wrote the story and screenplay, and would later work on such cinematic concoctions as He Walked by Night [1948] and Big House, U.S.A. [1955].)

William Tannen—the actor who played the “MGM Reporter” known as…Jim—will no longer be narrating our Crime Does Not Pay series; he has been replaced by Philip Trent (the actor would play another familiar-to-the-blog reporter in “Jasper Jenks” in the 1940 serial The Green Hornet) …though Tannen will return to CDNP, only in various bit parts.

REPORTER: How do you do, ladies and gentlemen…

Boo!  You suck!  Bring back Jim!

REPORTER: …once again, as the MGM Reporter, it is my pleasure to bring you another episode in the series entitled “Crime Does Not Pay” …may I introduce to you John Allgren of the Federal Department of Justice…

You could introduce us to him…but since I know that he’s really actor Edwin Stanley—who’s been in more serials (The Phantom Creeps, Mysterious Doctor Satan) than Carter has little liver pills—what would be the point?  (I’m going to warn you right now: Allgren comes across as someone who had a humor-ectomy as a kid.)

ALLGREN: The problem I have to present to you is not a nice one nor an amusing one…I’m not going to quote figures and let it go at that…I’m not going to lay the problem in your laps…I intend to throw it full in your faces…

Mental note: scratch this guy off the guest list for the end-of-year TDOY party.

ALLGREN: The problem is this: the robbery of our nation…the systematic and organized plundering of your country…of yourselves…

Oh!  You mean capitalism!

ALLGREN: Our department estimates that many industries are paying tribute to racketeers who have formed fake protective associations and fake unions…

Note that Allgren is careful to emphasize “fake” unions—otherwise that would be the end of this movie series as we know it.  (“Build your own goddamn set!”)

ALLGREN: …businessmen and workers are frightened into joining, and once they do the prices go up…and the consumer pays…which means everybody in this audience…

“Except for that couple seated in the back.  I have it on good authority that they steal for a living, and some of my men will be picking them up once the main feature is over.” 

ALLGREN: Ten cents of every dollar you spend goes into the pockets of crime…and that’s a dime for which you get absolutely nothing…

Kind of a bargain when you stop to consider how much of every dollar I spend goes into this country’s obscene, bloated military budget…for which I also receive absolutely nothing.  But I digress.

ALLGREN: Those dimes add up to two thousand million dollars a year to criminals…

What have you got against the small businessman, Allgren?  Laughing Boy then goes on to tell us that these same crooks were even evill enough to infiltrate the milk business, and he brings out the chief of police of “a Midwestern city” (later identified as “Clayburne City”), John Carney, to narrate this sordid story…

…except that Chief Carney is instantly recognizable as character great Cy Kendall…who, coincidentally, plays the chief bad guy in the Green Hornet serial.  I’ve seen Kendall in a great many flicks—you’ll remember he was in one of our previous CDNP shorts, Hit-and-Run Driver (1936)—and because the characters he portrays often tend to represent the opposite side of the law I kept waiting for him to be eventually revealed as working in tandem with the gangsters in this short.

CARNEY: We were confronted with a dangerous crime situation usually confined to large cities…we were invaded by a gang of extortionists…they posed as businessmen from Detroit…

There’s a dissolve, and then we pan up this impressive skyscraper…and to be honest, I was kind of confused because I got the impression that when Carney mentioned “usually confined to large cities” Clayburne City would be the last burg to have a building this imposing.  (“We shot our wad with the money from the general fund—but it was worth it!”)

Four “Detroit” men are being shown office space in that building by a landlord (character veteran Eddy Waller)—Moran (Paul Stanton), Bartley (Emmett Vogan), Kelly (William Pawley), and a fourth identified only as “Moran’s hood” at the (always reliable) IMDb …but played by yet another veteran thesp, Frank Puglia.  Also, according to the IMDb, the “office” used in this short was a set seen in the Clark Gable-Jean Harlow-Myrna Loy picture Wife vs. Secretary (1936).

LANDLORD: Uh…what business did you say you were in, Mr. Moran?

MORAN: I didn’t…but it happens to be milk…

LANDLORD: Milk?

KELLY: Yeah…the stuff they feed babies…

LANDLORD: I know a reporter on The Clayburne News…if you’d like a little free publicity…

BARTLEY: No, no, no…no publicity, my good man…we get our own publicity in our own way…

“Try this on for size: got milk?”  Bartley shoos away the landlord while asking him for “a first-class sign painter”—and this is the result:

The goon—who walks with an umbrella and a bit of a limp—pays off the painter and ventures back into the office, where the others—having received the “papers of incorporation”—are all set to take Clayburne City’s milk money.  (I make leetle joke.)

BARTLEY: Here’s a list of the independents…

MORAN: Well, their independence is over…the ones with the checks in front are the weak sisters…with a little talk, and they’ll join—that’s your job, Bartley…

The ones who have “x’s before them” will need “a little mild persuasion”—and that’s the jurisdiction of Mr. Kelly.  As for the Umbrella Man?  It’s pointed out that there are “a couple of Italian names” on the list, and since the guy with the bumbershoot seems to share that ethnicity he’ll handle those accounts.  The goon enthusiastically points his umbrella at the screen…

…and opens it, much to the consternation of his associates.  (I couldn’t initially figure out if it’s because it will serve a sinister purpose later or because they’re superstitious about opening an umbrella indoors.)  Moran and his bunch have hired a bunch of “boys” to assist them in their persuasion, and is informed by Kelly that “they’re over at the gym, taking a workout.”

MORAN (to Kelly): Now remember…you’re a trainer in town, with a stable of boxers…don’t make any attempt to phone here…nobody must connect those bruisers of yours with the Creamery Betterment Association…Incorporated…

First stop: Mr. Moore’s (John Dilson) dairy.

MOORE: Naturally, in the interest of good business I’d like to see the price go up…but…uh…

BARTLEY: But what?

MOORE: I started such an organization myself a couple of years ago…but it didn’t work…

BARTLEY: Don’t worry, Mr. Moore… (Hands him a piece of paper) This one will…now if you’ll just sign that…

Moore puts his John Hancock on the paper, and hands it back to Bartley.  That’s when he learns that Bartley is an administrative assistant to Beelzebub, and that he’s just signed away his immortal soul!  I’m kidding, of course; but Moore does learn that the price of milk is going up three cents…and that “The Creamery Betterment Association” expects to get a penny per bottle of cow juice sold.

MOORE: A cent on every bottle!  Why—that’s outrageous!  You know how much that amounts to?!!

BARTLEY: Yes…we know…but don’t forget in a few days the price goes up three cents…and it stays up…now you’ll save that extra profit just by organizing…

MOORE: But I can’t afford to pay that much!

BARTLEY: But you don’t pay it—people who buy your milk pay it…

"Why didn't I think of this before?"

This is, hands-down, the funniest bit in the short—because Moore gets this look on his face as if he’s just now figured out how capitalism works (it never occurred to him to squeeze the customers), and he’s beside himself with joy at the notion of screwing over his clientele.

The thug with the umbrella pays an Italian dairy owner named Simonelli (George Humbert) a visit by telling him the CBA (Creamery Betterment Association) is “an American outfit and you have been chosen to join,” skillfully appealing to his immigrant sense of patriotism.  Mr. S “don’t want-a no trouble,” and he sells his soul easier than a milkshake through a straw.  Dickman (Frederick Vogeding) of Baltic Creamery, on the other hand, proves a bit of a tougher sell when Bartley comes a-callin’.

DICKMAN: No, thank you…not interested…I’m making a fair profit…and business is getting better…but I don’t believe in banding together to get the price up…

Now I know this must be a movie—this guy is too good to be true!  Bartley is not discouraged; he throws his business card on Dickman’s desk and remarks that by noon tomorrow he’ll probably need it.  There’s a brief scene where Moran orders Kelly to put the heat on Dickman’s outfit…but curiously, he comments on Bartley’s habit of popping little white pills like they were Tic-Tacs.  I thought they introduced this into the story so that they could come back to it later (“We found an empty pillbox near one of the milk trucks, Inspector!”) but nothing ever develops—I think it’s just in there to give Bartley a little color.  Some of Kelly’s “boys” block one of the Baltic trucks on a country road, and when the driver gets out he’s punched out by one of the goons while the rest of them dump the milk on the ground.

To no one’s surprise, this induces Mr. Dickman to become a fervent supporter of CBA—though Moran warns him he’s letting him off easy despite Dickman calling the cops about the incident.  The scene shifts to a milkman making a delivery for Markowitz Dairy (lot of dairies in Clayburne City) while an unknown miscreant adds a little something extra to the milk via syringe…

We don’t learn what’s in the milk until a following scene, when a little boy takes a swig of his morning milk cocktail and complains to his mother “there’s something funny about this milk.”  Mama downs a bit of it, and noticing the odd tang sniffs it—declaring “Why, it smells like kerosene!”  While the mother announces that “that’s the last milk we’ll get from them” and goes off toward the telephone to give them a tongue lashing, a little girl also seated at the table has a slash and makes a face.  Yes, I laughed at this.  {“What is this kerosene-in-the-milk bullsh*t, Ma…gaahhhhhhhh!!!”)

The secretary (Barbara Bedford) to Mr. Markowitz (Karl Hackett) informs her boss in the next scene that customers have been bitching left and right about the new ingredient in the milk.  “I can’t understand it,” she laments…but Markowitz has figured it out; he hands her a business card and resignedly says “Call that number—tell them I’ll sign their agreement.”

As she turns to leave, he adds: “Tell MacMillan that milk goes up three cents.”

As you can see by this edition of The Clayburne News, every dairy in the area has knuckled under to the strong-arm tactics of the CBA except for Paige Creamery—whose president, Charles Paige (Ivan Miller), will no doubt be getting a visit from one of their friendly reps soon.  In the meantime, the audience witnesses for itself the devastating effects of CBA’s reign of terror.  A woman purchasing two bottles of milk from a grocer (Harry C. Bradley) must put one back after she’s informed of the price hike.  And a poor family gets a visit from a woman from the relief bureau is informed that their daily ration will be slashed from two quarts a day to a quart-and-a-half.  (Milk, Mandrake?  Children’s milk?)  By the way—the relief bureau lady is played by Bess Flowers, “Queen of the Dress Extras.”

Paige has taken all he can stands—he can’t stands no more:

PAIGE: Now get this straight, John—Paige Company is not knuckling under to these grafters…I’ve spent twenty years building up the biggest creamery in this city and I’ll fight ‘em…with or without your police department!

Looks like it’s going to be without.  Carney behaves pretty much like every pusillanimous public official—there’s nothing we can do, I’m just marking time until I collect my pension, yadda yadda yadda.

CARNEY: We have no evidence connecting the outrages with the racketeers…extortion’s very difficult to prove…I’ve got to have some evidence that a good jury can set its teeth into…

PAIGE: Swell…meantime these thugs take over the milk business and skyrocket prices!

CARNEY: Yeah, I know…

“F*ck it, Dude—let’s go bowling…”

CARNEY: I don’t blame the creamery companies for giving in…they’ve got too much at stake…they can’t risk spoiled milk…interrupted deliveries…families and hospitals have got to have their products!  The crooks have got the milk dealers right over a barrel…

More like a carton.  Paige still insists he’s going to hold out and that he’s itching for a scrap.  “We’ll be right beside you, Charlie,” promises Carney, “as soon as we get something on them.”

Back at the CBA, the officers lament that Paige Creamery still won’t play ball and that they’re going to soon start asking for three cents per bottle from its august members.  (This is how real bidnessmen are supposed to act!)  Kelly enters to tell Moran that Paige is still being stubborn—it’s speculated that the president’s reserve is due to his working his way up through the ranks, starting out as a humble milkman.  “He’ll go in with us or go into bankruptcy,” declares Moran.  The word is out to put on additional pressure, and in this next scene…

…not the best screen capture but the actor playing “Drunken Hood Who Knocks Over Milk Wagon” (thank you for that, IMDb) is B-western/serial veteran Richard Alexander (you might know him as Prince Barin the first Flash Gordon chapter play).  Dick and his fellow tipplers take the horses from the milk wagon, and when the driver objects he’s laid out with a roundhouse…then his wagon is pushed over, spilling the precious kerosene-laced beverage all over the ground.  A following sequence has two CBA goons crashing into a Paige truck on a busy street, also knocking the vehicle on its side.  But Paige continues to hang tough, despite a visit from Moran, Kelly, and Umbrella Henchman.  As they’re ordered out of his office, Bumbershoot Goon sees a photo of Paige’s wife and kids on his desk.  “Nice family you got…”  (“Be a shame if someone were to set fire to them.”)

Paige’s secretary (Betty Ross Clarke) informs him that Chief Carney has come to visit, and that’s when Paige announces he’s had enough.

PAIGE: I’m giving in, John…those crooks have threatened my family…

“I may be a captain in the homogenized industry—but my family means the world to me.”

PAIGE: Oh, I stuck it out while they smashed my trucks…beat up my drivers and made them quit…destroyed raw milk and apparently everything accidental…but this is too much…I’m through, Carney…

Carney pleads with Paige to “stick by me” even though the long arm of the law is completely helpless where these racketeers are concerned.  (“I was this close to stepping up my efforts to do completely nothing!”)  All he needs is another week—and in the meantime, he’ll do whatever it takes to protect the Family Paige.

“The police department is going into the milk business,” Carney declares to Paige.  He rounds up a considerable number of his fellow flatfoots (you wouldn’t think a city would need that many—but what do I know?) and disguises them as common garden variety milkmen.  As a couple of CBA shakedown artists approach one of the undercover cops with milk mayhem on their agenda, the cop gives one of them a judo flip…

A uniformed cop recognizes one of his fellow boys in blue (Robert Homans) in a milkman’s getup and assumes he’s gotten into another line of work.  No, me boyo, he tells his friend…and as Carney approaches, the milkman informs his captain he’s got a couple of guys ready for the hoosegow on top of his wagon:

The officers with the CBA are not amused.

MORAN (to Kelly): You dumb cluck…

KELLY: Well, how was the boys to know that every one of them milkmen was a cop?

MORAN: How could they know anything with such a dumb leader?  How many did they lock up?

KELLY: All of them…but don’t worry, Chief—they won’t talk…they know you’ll spring ‘em in a couple of days…

MORAN: These hick cops think they can stymie our racket, do they?  Okay…well, it’s Paige’s funeral…maybe the police department’s, too…

The Creamery Betterment Association proceeds to detonate a small thermonuclear device inside Clayburne City—which finally makes the police sit up and take notice.  Okay, I’m just kidding—Moran’s hood finally gets the opportunity to use his umbrella when the car he and a few of the “boys” are riding in passes a Paige truck alongside a country road.  The umbrella is actually a high-octane shootin’ weapon which pierces the tanks on the truck and spills the milk all over the ground.  (I haven’t seen umbrella action like that since that rerun of The Avengers.)  The man (Russ Clark) behind the wheel of the truck is unhurt…and he’s also an undercover cop, who spills the news of the event to Carney.  Carney knows that simple ballistics is all he’ll need to convict those evil-doers—particularly if he catches them with the umbrella gun.  There’s an unintentionally humorous bit where Paige starts bitching about the damage to his truck—estimated at $30,000—and demands of Carney: “What kind of police department are running here?”

“A good one!” is Carney’s response.  (Eye roll.)  The gendarmes quickly surround the building that houses the CBA, and they plan to flush out the gang by printing some “fake news”:

Spoiler: the driver was not killed.  The racketeers manage to make it to their vehicle and hightail it out of town…but they’re stopped by Clayburne’s finest—who shoot out the tires and make the car come to a screeching halt.  Umbrella Dude is gunned down…

…and back in the lab, the technician proves that the bullets found in the milk truck are an identical match to test slugs fired out of the umbrella.  “Umbrella or not—these fellas didn’t know enough to come in out of the rain,” he observes.  If this was a sitcom, everyone would be standing around laughing about now…

Okay, I'm starting to lose all feeling in the gluteus maximus (though I’m working on a remedy for next week)—let’s cut to the chase:

"And don't forget to drink your milk, you little bastards!"

ALLGREN: On the strength of the ballistic findings, Moran, Bartley, and Kelly were sentenced to fifty years each in state prison without possibility of parole…in such manner was the power of the milk racketeers broken in Clayburne City…extortion demands good organization, clever brains, and much money…but extortion cannot operate against a brave man who faces down these parasites and goes to the police for help…he cannot be robbed!

A still from The Public Pays

Um…you’re sort of forgetting that the cops kind of sat on their hands until the last five minutes of this thing.  That’s all for today, kids—but before I go…whoever has been "donating" the screen grabs for these write-ups to the (always reliable) IMDb I am most flattered.  I'm a little apprehensive about the IMDb crediting Alonzo Price with portraying “Captain Halliday” in last week’s entry, Foolproof (1936), only because it was merely an educated guess on my part.  (They’re still crediting Harry Hayden with playing “Stewart Walden” even though Facebook compadre Andrew “Grover” Leal has pointed out that is not the guy “serving the big dinner” in The Killers [1946].  And I still think that's Esther Howard as "Mrs. Layton.")  As always, thanks for encouraging my behavior.

Next time: Crime Does Not Pay wins its second and last Oscar with Torture Money (1937)!  G’bye now!