THE CINEMA
ONE remembers with affection a film of 1938 called A Slight Case of Murder—a film which poked disrespectfully beneath the tough skin of all the gangster stories that had ever been and discovered, not violence but slapstick. A Slight Case of Murder also gave first full play to Edward G. Robinson's talent for comedy and with this actor enjoying a similar opportunity in Larceny Inc. we were bound to- be disappointed if he failed to repeat the earlier success. Larceny Inc. is a very funny film, but not so funny as A Slight Case of Murder. Here again is the master-mind equal to any and every underworld emergency from the strategies of Sing- Sing baseball to the silver-tongued appeal which will send one of his faithful minions hurtling under the wheels of a careless driver's limousine in search of superficial injury and the disproportionate compensation. The luggage-shop purchased to give access to the vaults of the bank next door proves to be a gold-mine, not literally but as a commercial proposition, and the gangsters, much against their will, become successful business-men earning the respect of the Sixth Avenue block which has gained such distinction from their honest acumen. Thus the tale leaps nimbly on, hastened by ingenious editing and continuity, and there is only one flaw to account for the disappointment mentioned earlier: the gangsters are allowed too frequently to forget that they are figures of fun and that such gay incompetents as themselves have on occasion been described as enemies of society. They lack consequently the professional dignity of the assassins of A Slight Case of Murder. Perhaps the war has made us all re-examine our standards.
My Gal Sal is from Theodore Dreiser's story of Paul Dresser, the great Broadway song-writer of the 'nineties. Dresser is played by Victor Mature in his usual somewhat cloying style, the atmosphere of over-ripe sensuality being occasionally relieved by the struttings and tantrums of a spoilt child. Rita Hayworth as Sally Elliott is a more attractive character, and she sings, dances and acts with an agreeable mixture of spontaneity and sophistication which only occasionally succumbs to the temptation to burlesque the elaborate mannerisms of the period. The film is in Technicolor, and a con- siderable part of it is devoted to reproductions of the musical comedies for which Dresser's music provided the backbone. Once Dresser has forsaken Colonel Truckee's touring medicine-show
where his singing, interspersed with dances by a troupe of redskins, assists the sale of the Colonel's famous cure-all, the film becomes conventional back-stage drama. The songs, which include "My Gal Sal" and "On the Banks of the Wabash," are more tuneful than those forthcoming from our contemporary song-writers, and the settings are satisfactorily rich and uninhibited in colour. Odd glimpses of contemporary life—the green-room of a San Francisco Theatre, a music-printer's workroom, a cheap-jack sale, the medicine salesman's nightly death-agony interrupted by a spectacularly success- ful dose of his own specific, all these make a pleasant entertainment.
This week's Ministry of Information film is assembled mainly from library and newsreel-type material, and yet it is amongst the most moving of recent official productions. It celebrates the visit of Chiang Kai-shek to India, and, whilst avoiding direct reference to the significance or consequences of this event, it pays a most sincere tribute to China and to the remarkable man and woman who have guided her through so much disaster and disappointment without once faltering in their devotion. The commentary is not always related closely to the pictures, but it is free, easy-going and
anecdotal with complete success. EDGAR ANSTEY.
"The Harvest Shall Come" IN reviewing this film last week, the fact that it was produced by Imperial Chemical Industries was, unfortunately, omitted. The Ministry of Information has arranged for its distribution.