Friday, February 14, 2025

Chicago Calling (1951)

Chicago Calling begins with shots of technology that is fast becoming obsolete—still shots of telephone poles and overhead wires (the technology of landline telephone communication)—and jumbled conversations on the soundtrack. The jumbled conversations gradually become more distinct, until one telephone operator (a job that was once plentiful and apparently still exists, according to my online search) says, twice, “Chicago calling.” She introduces the film with its title.

(This article about Chicago Calling contains all the spoilers.)

A voice-over narrator introduces the main characters by their jobs or what they are doing at the precise moment the film begins, which is 7:23 on this particular morning. The narrator tells viewers, “They were starting the day like any other day, not knowing that they had already been singled out to test a man’s faith in his fellow man.” With these words, the narrator is also introducing the element of fate, one of the hallmark characteristics of noir. And without mentioning the word “fate” once, the narrator explains how this film also revolves around the role of fate.

The man the narrator is talking about is William (“Bill”) Cannon, who is introduced next. Dan Duryea is great in this role, and he definitely carries the film. The plot is driven by his decisions and his actions. When he appears in the film for the first time, he descends a flight of steps in a poor Los Angeles (L.A.) neighborhood. He calls for his daughter Nancy, who is playing in a narrow, half-shadowed alley with other children. Nancy is thrilled to see her father, and when she rushes to greet him, he is concerned about her scrapes and scratches. When he asks her about them, Nancy tells him that she was in a fight with a boy named Roy. Roy told her that she and her mother are leaving L.A. and her father behind, something Nancy doesn’t want to believe.

Bill Cannon goes to his apartment, where he finds his wife Mary packing. Bill never came home the night before, and she is sick of his drinking and his lack of steady employment. Bill begs her not to leave; he tries to remind her of his successes in the war (he is a World War II veteran) and his work in and graduation from a photography school. But Mary cannot be dissuaded.

It’s obvious that Bill and Mary care for one another, but Mary’s patience has its limits. She wants durable proof that Bill can change his ways. In the meantime, Bill pawns his camera to pay for Mary’s and Nancy’s car trip to Baltimore, where Mary’s mother lives. Mary found a ride with people who are driving east and advertised for paying passengers. Bill watches them leave from a hiding place and then goes on a bender.

When Bill arrives home again, a telephone company lineman is at the stairs outside the front door because Bill’s phone line and service is to be cut off for nonpayment of past bills. Bill invites the lineman in, but he receives a telegram: Nancy has been seriously injured in a car accident outside Chicago, and Mary will phone with updates. He begs the telephone lineman to let him keep the phone line so that Mary can reach him. The lineman agrees to help him.

Bill spends the rest of his day looking for a way to pay his telephone bill. He finds his friend Pete at work and asks for money, but he already owes Pete money, and Pete cannot afford to lend him more. He begs for an extension on his bill at the telephone company’s offices. He explains his story to Peggy, a waitress at a food truck. She feels sorry for him and gives him five dollars. A young boy named Bobby accidentally hits Smitty, Bill’s dog, with his bike and helps Bill take the dog home. Bobby tells Bill that his doesn’t have any parents; he lives with his older sister, Barbara.

When Bobby was introduced at the start of the film, he was described as working at a market. He looks about nine or ten years old, and he is already working. Bobby offers to give his savings to Bill. They go to the home that he shares with his sister, but he cannot find his piggy bank. The sister’s boyfriend, Art, is asleep in Bobby’s room, and his money clip is on the bed next to him. Bill is tempted but doesn’t take the money. Bobby does take it; he tells Bill that he will replace the money when he finds his piggy bank.

This news weighs heavily on Bill. He appreciates Bobby’s willingness to help, but he doesn’t want the help to come this way. He goes back to Bobby’s house and tells him that he doesn’t want Bobby to steal anything ever again and that he plans to return the money to Art. He doesn’t want Bobby to lie about what happened with the money because he will eventually lie to himself, and before long, he will start believing his own lies. He doesn’t want that to happen to Bobby because he has done it to himself.

Art and the sister return home while Bill is talking to Bobby, and Art accuses Bill of stealing his money. Bill returns the money, while Bobby insists that he was the one who stole it. His sister is furious with both of them, and she and her boyfriend are quick to assign blame. Art calls the police.

Bill and Bobby return to Bill’s apartment. Two police detectives knock on his door with an arrest warrant. But his phone rings: The telephone company lineman is on the pole outside the apartment calling Bill’s number to tell him the line is still open. And Mary calls while the two police detectives are still in the apartment. They let him take the call, and Bill learns that Nancy has died after the car accident outside Chicago. One of the detectives calls police headquarters to arrange it so Bill isn’t arrested after all. But Bill is despondent after finding out about his daughter. He walks the streets aimlessly, with Bobby following him in desperation.

Near the end of Chicago Calling is an amazing sequence in which Bobby throws himself on the barren dirt of a railroad yard and screams for Bill not to hurt himself. The sequence is amazing for a couple of reasons. One is the emotion portrayed by the young actor Gordon Gebert, who plays Bobby. The other is the image of the young boy in complete despair with the train racing past, alternately taking up almost the entire frame and showing just enough to allow Bobby to scream silently because he cannot be heard over the roar of the train. He is inconsolable, and a railroad engineer on the scene can do little to help him. The sequence is emotionally wrenching even today, but it must have been doubly wrenching, even alarming, to see on the big screen in 1951, when films were shown in movie palaces with a single screen taking up the front of the auditorium.


A lot about Chicago Calling qualifies it as a family drama, but it is also a film noir, and one reason is that it certainly doesn’t involve typical family structures for a family drama. Bill and Mary Cannon are still in love with one another, but she leaves him anyway, and some would say for good reasons. He is a heavy drinker, and he cannot seem to hold a job for longer than a few days. He is a World War II veteran, and it is possible the film is pointing out problems for many returning soldiers that were not addressed at the time.

Bobby, the young boy who becomes attached to Bill, is on his own. He works at a market, and there isn’t any evidence that he ever attends school. He is an orphan, and no explanation is given for what happened to his parents. He lives with his older sister, who treats him badly. She tells him that she will send him away once she gets married. When he tells this to Bill, Bill is dismayed, but Bobby is looking forward to getting away from his sister. He and Bill eventually form a family of their own that is not based on biological ties: They simply care about one another.

The plot of the film revolves around practically obsolete technology for viewers in 2025, but that is irrelevant as far as the drama is concerned. The actors’ emotions and their believability do not suffer because the story was filmed in 1951. When Bill tells the railroad engineer that Bobby is his son, the engineer believes him. Bill might not be Bobby’s biological father, but it is clear that there is a real attachment between them. Bill struggles to find enough money to pay his telephone bill, only to hear the harrowing news about the death of his daughter, so it’s a relief that the film ends on a positive note, with Bill making a new connection with a young boy who clearly needs him.

December 31, 1951 (Chicago), January 11, 1952 (United States), release dates    Directed by John Reinhardt    Screenplay by John Reinhardt, Peter Berneis    Music by Heinz Roemheld    Edited by Arthur H. Nadel    Cinematography by Robert de Grasse

Dan Duryea as William (“Bill”) R. Cannon    Mary Anderson as Mary Cannon    Gordon Gebert as Bobby Kimball    Ross Elliott as Jim, the telephone company worker    Melinda Plowman as Nancy Cannon    Judy Brubaker as Barbara (“Babs”) Kimball    Marsha Jones as Peggy    Roy Engel as Pete    Jean Harvey as Christine    Bob Fallon as Art

Distributed by United Artists    Produced by Arrowhead Pictures

Friday, January 31, 2025

Crime, Inc. (1945)

Crime, Inc. is one of those films that fans of film noir will find interesting for reasons that don’t necessarily have to do with the story itself. Tom Neal, as reporter Jim Riley, is the one to solve the crime spree and help bring the killers to justice. It is a very different role than the one he plays as Al Roberts, the harried lead in Detour, which is perhaps his most famous film noir role. It’s the film I saw first—and many times—before seeing Crime, Inc. (Tom Neal’s personal life was as tumultuous as his role in Detour; you can catch up on some of the details at Wikipedia.)

Sheldon Leonard goes against type in his role as Captain Ferrone in Crime, Inc. Leonard had many bit parts, mostly in film noir and mostly playing gangsters and other unsavory types. He had a deep voice, and with his particular way of enunciating words, he was the perfect actor for intimidation. But in Crime, Inc., he plays a police captain trying to bring order to a city undergoing gangland warfare. His position is even more difficult because of (you probably guessed it) police corruption in his own department.

You can watch Crime, Inc. for free online. Click here to see it at the Internet Archive. I watched the film on DVD, but the copy at the Internet Archive seems to be a better print.

The film starts with people going to a nightclub called Smitty’s Café and looking for a fun night out. Smitty’s Café is small and not particularly glamorous, but people are dining, and a woman sings as part of the act at the club. Two men show up and shoot and kill two nightclub patrons. Everyone else makes a run for it, including the café employees and the band members. When the police show up to round up witnesses and question them, no one will even admit that they saw anything. Captain Ferrone arrests them all to see if a night in jail will jog their memory. Then he calls in the newspaper reporters, including Jim Riley, who have been waiting to get their story. Captain Ferrone tells the reporters very little, only that Vanny Denton and Dutch Cripe were shot at 11:05 p.m. and that the two victims were members of the Bugs Kelley mob.

Jim Riley stays after the other reporters leave; he and Captain Ferrone appear to be on friendly terms. Ferrone asks Riley if he knows who Bugs Kelley has been “squeezing” lately. Riley says that he doesn’t know, but the next day, he pays a visit to Kelley. Neither Riley nor Kelley knows who is behind the rival crime syndicate or their murder of two of Kelley’s men. Riley would like to know so that he can break the story; Kelley would like to know so that he can exact his revenge.

(This article about Crime, Inc. contains spoilers.)

Jim Riley thinks all the killings (it is implied that Denton’s and Cripe’s deaths aren’t the only ones so far) are connected and that the crime syndicate is run like a business. The police, including Captain Ferrone, think his ideas are ridiculous. But as a newspaper reporter, Riley is persistent, and he continues his journalistic investigation, still intent on getting to the story first. He calls Bugs Kelley, who invites him on a drive to Atlantic City instead of offering any more inside information. On the way, Kelley tells Riley that his real name is Mike Egan and that he should use his real name in Atlantic City. When they arrive, Kelley takes Riley to a nightclub and introduces him to the woman singing. She is Betty Van Cleve, aka Betty Egan, Mike’s sister.

Kelley wants Riley to act as a big brother to his little sister because he is going away for a while. He doesn’t explain what he means by “away for a while,” and Riley naturally worries about it. Betty thinks her brother is in the insurance business, and Riley knows that this isn’t true. Riley is attracted to Betty, which only adds to his discomfort about the entire evening and the lies being told. But on the way home, Kelley gives Riley his blessing about dating his sister, which makes everything only a little less complicated.

I found Kelley’s alias and his sister’s innocence about his profession a little unbelievable. I know the film was made way before the computer age and the introduction of the internet, but surely she picked up a newspaper once in a while. If Kelley was such a notorious gangster, stories about him and pictures of him must have been printed in the newspapers at least once in a while. I think a sister would have recognized her brother, even in grainy newspaper print.

Kelley’s “going away” has to do with his appearance as a witness before a hearing related to the murders of Denton and Cripe. Kelley maintains on the witness stand that he is a life insurance agent. (Again, didn’t Betty Egan hear about this story? Atlantic City is just a short drive away from her brother’s place of illegal operations, and murders would have made big news beyond the immediate local area.) The next witness following Kelley is Adolphe Lutz, a waiter in Smitty’s Café when the murders happened. He is shot outside the building where the hearing takes place and before he has a chance to offer his witness testimony.

The level of violence starts to escalate even more. Kelley and his henchmen are killed at the Wax Works Museum at Coney Island; Betty Van Cleve has moved after her brother’s death, and Jim Riley has lost track of her. He is worried about why she moved and is more determined than ever to learn the facts. He consults an informant, Val Lucas, who works for Assistant District Attorney Dixon. It isn’t long before the assistant district attorney and Lucas are killed, too. Dixon was murdered because of a rat in the police department. A secret commission is organized to get to the bottom of the murders and to rid the city of organized crime.

Jim Riley does find Betty Van Cleve again, but they are now in danger, too, thanks to Jim’s investigation and Betty’s relation to Bugs Kelley. Riley is brought before a grand jury to testify about his news sources. He refuses to reveal their identities, and he is asked to join the secret commission. He agrees to this and gives the following information: the location of two companies, National Brokers Inc. and the International Export Company, both doing business in the Arcade Building, and the names of police officers who have been calling the International Export Company regularly.

Another reason that Crime, Inc. is interesting for film noir fans is because of the story itself, specifically Jim Riley’s idea of a crime syndicate run as a business. His theory allows him to follow leads that might not seem plausible to others. The police think that his ideas are ridiculous, and many in the police department want this particular trail to run cold because they are the ones profiting from criminal activities. But Riley is proven right about this and the other details of his investigation. Several officers are involved, as are employees in the district attorney’s office. This type of corruption is what has made the rival syndicate so successful. Its members can stay one step ahead of law enforcement, and they know a lot of inside information about their criminal rivals.

Crime as a business sounds like a novel idea, even today, but it also makes sense: People go into crime to make money, and a business/crime organization makes sense if they want to succeed at their chosen profession. Another film noir example of a criminal organization run like a business is New York Confidential (1955), where Charlie Lupo, played by Broderick Crawford, runs his criminal affairs from an office in an office building.

Click here to see my article about New York Confidential.

Jim Riley and Betty Van Cleve live long enough to give the film a happy ending. The ending feels a bit rushed, a bit too tidy; it might be more appropriate for a romantic comedy than a film noir. But Crime, Inc. is very much a B film. Production Releasing Corporation (PRC), which produced and distributed the film, was a member of the Poverty Row film producers, so perhaps there was no more time in the schedule or money in the budget to go for a more a conventional noir ending. It’s still a film noir: The happy ending is hardly a match for all that corruption and violence and murder.

April 15, 1945, release date    Directed by Lew Landers    Screenplay by Raymond L. Schrock    Based on the book Crime Incorporated by Martin Mooney    Music by Walter Greene    Edited by Roy V. Livingston    Cinematography by James S. Brown Jr.

Leo Carrillo as Anthony Charles (aka “Tony”) Marlow    Tom Neal as Jim Riley    Martha Tilton as Betty Van Cleve (aka Betty Egan)    Lionel Atwill as Pat Coyle    Grant Mitchell as Wayne Clark    Sheldon Leonard as Captain Ferrone    Harry Shannon as Police Commissioner Collins    Danny Morton as Bugs Kelley (aka Mike Egan)    Virginia Vale as Trixie Waters    Don Beddoe as Deputy District Attorney Dixon    Rod Rogers as Val Lucas    George Meeker as Barry North    Crahan Denton as Vannie Denton    Michael Mark as Adolphe Lutz    Stanley Price as Eddie Garr    Jack Gordon as Jud Stecker

Distributed by Producers Releasing Corporation (PRC)    Produced by PRC