His Kind of Woman (1951)

Robert Mitchum is one of my many noir favorites, and his character, Dan Milner, in His Kind of Woman has one of my favorite lines in all of film noir. Milner is a professional gambler (like Steve Maddux in Her Kind of Man). He makes his living in a profession that was illegal in the United States when the film was released in 1951. He is on a losing streak in his illegal profession, so the claim at the start of the film that he owes money couldn’t come at a worse time. And it’s bound to cause all sorts of problems for Milner because he supposedly owes money to a shady character. In a situation like this, he doesn’t have much recourse, at least when it comes to legal options.

Very early in the film, Milner comes home to three strangers playing cards in his apartment. One of them tells him, “Ollie Chester wants the dough.” (Ollie Chester is never mentioned again in the film, and viewers never meet him. He many not even exist, as far as Milner and the story are concerned.) Milner says that he doesn’t know what the man is talking about, but that turns out to be irrelevant. The three men are in Milner’s apartment to collect the money, no matter what. Milner is beaten for refusing to pay, and the three men leave him on his living room floor.

Milner is still on his living room floor when his telephone starts to ring . . . and ring . . . and ring. He finally gets up to answer the phone, and viewers hear only his side of the conversation: “Hello? . . . Yeah, this is Milner . . . No, I’m not busy, Corley . . . No, I was just getting ready to take my tie off . . . and wondering whether I should hang myself with it.”

Robert Mitchum delivers these lines with a combination of conviction, resignation, and deadpan humor. I laugh every time I see the film and hear these lines. Lest you think I am callous, His Kind of Woman is a film noir with an odd combination of humor, snappy dialogue, violence, and dark themes, but the humor and the snappy dialogue are already evident by the time Milner arrives home to find three strangers in his living room.

The film actually starts with a voice-over narrator (Thompson, played by Charles McGraw), who explains how the film’s narrative really starts in Naples, Italy. Ferraro is staying in his villa overlooking the Bay of Naples. He wants to return to the United States, but he cannot because he was deported. He leads a crime syndicate, and he is still the head of gambling and vice in the United States despite his deportation. Ferraro wants greater control over the money he makes from his so-called businesses. He has a plan to visit Morro’s Lodge in Mexico to trade places with Dan Milner, to take over his identity so he can reenter the United States. Whether Milner survives this identity transfer is the least of Ferraro’s worries.

Corley’s phone call brings Milner to the home of someone named Arnold. Arnold is funding Milner’s trip to Mexico and Morro’s Lodge. (Another point that is never clarified is Arnold’s relationship to Ferraro and to Milner. I never understood why he is in charge of getting Milner from point A [the United States] to point B [Mexico].) At this point in the film, neither Milner nor the viewers know what Milner’s trip to Mexico will entail. Milner knows that he will make a quick $50,000, but that’s all he knows before he leaves the country and flies to Nogales, Mexico. At his first stop in Mexico, he meets a singer named Lenore Brent. Both are heading to Morro’s Lodge, where the two of them meet several other characters. Some are involved in Ferraro’s plans, and some are merely distractions that provide some of the film’s humor.

(This article about His Kind of Woman contains spoilers.)

Milner finally learns at Morro’s Lodge what is expected of him, but he is not willing to go through with Ferraro’s bargain. This angers Ferraro, and he intends to get rid of Milner even though he now has to find someone else’s identity to steal. Milner is now more dangerous to Ferraro because he knows too much. Much of the violence in the film is directed at Milner, and much of it is the result of Ferraro’s displeasure with Milner’s decisions.

His Kind of Woman is a long film (almost two hours), especially for a film noir. I must admit that I found the running time a bit too long. The last third or so of the film features alternating sequences between Ferraro’s desire to inflict pain on Milner and the crusade by Mark Cardigan, an actor and fellow Morro Lodge vacationer, to save Milner. For me, the humor in the Cardigan sequence falls a little flat in comparison to the violence and sadism on display by Ferraro and his henchmen. The most humorous and witty bits of dialogue usually involve Robert Mitchum’s character in other contexts: Dan Milner’s conversations with Lenore Brent, his exchanges with Mark Cardigan before he is in any real danger, and his interactions with supporting characters in about the first half of the film.

The DVD I borrowed came with commentary by professor Vivian Sobchack, and she provides lots of details about Hugh Hefner’s involvement in the film and the ways that he got around or simply ignored the production code that was in force at the time. It’s well worth a listen. You can also find the film at the Internet Archive in English with Spanish subtitles, but I do believe that getting the DVD would be the best option.

Here are just a few of the points made by Sobchack in her DVD commentary:

◊ Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell were the biggest stars at RKO at the time. Jane Russell was a commanding presence on-screen that Robert Mitchum could match. Mitchum could match Russell’s “hard glamor,” as it was called at the time.

◊ Jane Russell was a protegee of Howard Hughes. She does her own singing in the film.

◊ Raymond Burr was cast after the film was finished. His character is based on real-life mobster Lucky Luciano.

◊ Joseph Breen of the Production Code Administration (PCA) objected to Mexican and Latin American stereotypes, but many of them remained in the film. The United States was following the Good Neighbor Policy at the time the film was made. Breen also objected to the violence, but it stayed, although viewers don’t see much of it directly. Viewers never see Dan Milner being beaten by the three strangers in his apartment at the beginning of the film, and they never see Bill Lusk killed by Thompson.

◊ Howard Hughes made his money in aviation. Planes are featured in the film, even when they are unnecessary for moving the plot forward. Lusk, the federal immigration agent, is the pilot coming in for a landing at Morro Lodge during the storm, and the sequence about his landing is another instance of showing aviation that doesn’t really advance the plot.

◊ Howard Hughes loved the character of Mark Cardigan and helped rewrite much of the second half of the film to give the character more to do on-screen and to build up Cardigan’s character. He also liked Vincent Price in the role. Cardigan’s in-film movie clips are a parody of Errol Flynn and Errol Flynn’s roles, and Cardigan is very appreciative of his own performance.

◊ Howard Hughes didn’t want to make message films and sent a memo to that effect to everyone at RKO when he bought the studio. Some of the supporting characters even voice this type of opinion:

• Myron Winton: “People don’t go to the movies to see how miserable the world is. They want to eat popcorn and be happy.”

• Martin Krafft: “It [Cardigan’s movie] has a message no pigeon would carry.”

His Kind of Woman is one of those films that could go into several categories: film noir, humor, adventure, romance. It’s a bit hard to pigeonhole, which might turn away some viewers. I enjoyed it more on subsequent viewings, and it’s worth seeing more than once, as it is with so many films noir, to catch all the details. It’s a must-see for fans of Robert Mitchum because he doesn’t disappoint. His character has most of the best lines. In fact, I would say that he carries the film, even with the strong supporting cast around him.

August 21, 1951 (Chicago, Illinois, premiere), August 25, 1952 (United States), release dates  •  Directed by John Farrow, Richard Fleischer  •  Screenplay by Frank Fenton, Jack Leonard, Earl Felton, Howard Hughes  •  Based on a story by Gerald Drayson Adams  •  Music by Leigh Harline  •  Edited by Frederic Knudtson, Eda Warren  •  Cinematography by Harry J. Wild

Robert Mitchum as Dan Milner  •  Jane Russell as Lenore Brent  •  Vincent Price as Mark Cardigan  •  Tim Holt as Bill Lusk  •  Charles McGraw as Thompson  •  Marjorie Reynolds as Helen Cardigan  •  Raymond Burr as Nick Ferraro  •  Leslie Banning as Jennie Stone  •  Richard Bergren as Milton Stone  •  Jim Backus as Myron Winton  •  Philip Van Zandt as Jose Morro, the resort’s manager  •  John Mylong as Martin Krafft  •  Carleton G. Young as Gerald Hobson  •  Paul Frees as Corley

Distributed by RKO Radio Pictures  •  Produced by RKO Radio Pictures

Her Kind of Man (1946)

Her Kind of Man is all about Steve Maddux, who is Georgia King’s kind of man. I was expecting the film to about a femme fatale and some hapless male hopelessly in love with her, but that wasn’t the case. Zachary Scott plays Steve Maddux, and he is great as the gambler who can’t seem to stay out of trouble but who really does love Georgia. Janis Paige plays Georgia King, who is no femme fatale. Their romance is true and on the level, which is a bit of a change compared to many films noir.

Janis Paige, who plays Georgia King in Her Kind of Man, lived to 101 years young. She died just recently, on June 2, 2024.

The one who really can’t get over his attraction to Georgia King is Don Corwin (played by Dane Clark). Corwin’s role is important to the plot, but he is not as important as he would like to be to Georgia. The story held my interest precisely because it wasn’t so typical of film noir, and thus it was almost inevitable that the plot would hold some surprises. And it wasn’t so typical for Zachary Scott, who is most often associated with his role as cad extraordinaire, Monte Beragon, in Mildred Pierce.

The narrative starts with Corwin’s voice-over narration. He is a newspaper reporter for the New York Star reminiscing about fifteen years since the end of Prohibition and about Steve Maddux and his “big night,” one that was even bigger than his big night on New Year’s Eve. The entire film is an extended flashback, or really an extended flashback within a flashback. Don Corwin is reminiscing about events starting on New Year’s 1932, at the Illinois Club, and the first flashback starts with Corwin and Georgia King arriving at the offices of the New York Star. Corwin is there because of a news bulletin about Steve Maddux and because he plans to be the one to break the story. Viewers know that Corwin will tell the story about Steve Maddux, but they don’t know yet why Maddux is a news item, who Georgia King is, or how Corwin and King are related to Maddux’s story.

Steve Maddux makes his first appearance in the film winning a dice game at a private gambling hall. Steve is already an outsider at a time, in 1946, when the film was released, when gambling was illegal. The film never explains how Steve keeps up his lucky run winning at all sorts of gambling: cards, dice, horse racing, dog racing. It’s a life outside the law, at least part of the time, and yet he can support himself. Someone named Felix Bender shows up in the private gambling hall demanding a rematch with Steve, who had won a lot of money from Felix earlier.

Felix wins betting against Steve, but he’s playing with a loaded pair of dice, and Steve catches him cheating. He takes back all the money that they bet and tosses Felix out. After this bit of success, someone named Candy appoints himself Steve Maddux’s bodyguard. Steve tells Candy that he doesn’t need a bodyguard, but he doesn’t object when Candy insists. They head to the Illinois Club, leaving Felix Bender behind and nursing a grudge. Steve is at the Illinois Club, which is owned by Ruby (Steve Maddux’s sister) and her husband Joe Marino, to hear Georgia perform.

(This article about Her Kind of Man contains some spoilers.)

Ruby wants to talk to Steve Maddux privately about whether he has a job (he does not) and whether he plans to give up gambling (he does not). She also wants to know if he is staying out of trouble, which leads to an argument that they both have had before. Steve tells his sister: “I want my hunk of the twentieth century right now. I’m tired of standing on the outside looking in while the heels of the world gorge themselves. I can do anything they can and better.”

This yearning for a better life is a familiar theme in postwar film noir, although noir usually features the lengths (usually criminal) that people will go to get what they want. One of my favorite films noir, Too Late for Tears (1949), is a perfect example. The United States had just won World War II in 1945, and the domestic economy was on the upswing. But not everyone benefited equally, and some people resented feeling left behind while the economy expanded.

Georgia King is in love with Steve Maddux even though he shows up when he feels like it and doesn’t keep dates with her. She learns that she has a chance at Broadway, and Steve wants to go to New York City with her. He heads to Joe Marino’s nightclub office to make train reservations. Joe warns Steve about Felix Bender, who just then shows up at the office door with a gun. Steve outmaneuvers Felix and lands a punch that causes Felix to fall and lose the handgun, but Felix reaches for another as Georgia King walks into the office, just in time to see Steve shoot and kill Felix Bender. Even though Steve shot Felix in self-defense, he plans to cover up Felix’s death. He asks Candy to get rid of the body, then flees to Miami. Georgia heads to Broadway and is an instant success. Ruby and Joe Marino eventually sell their nightclub and follow Steve to Miami.

Don Corwin first appears in Steve Maddux’s story via Georgia King and Broadway. He is a newspaper reporter in New York City, and a friend of his, Bill Fellows, is a police detective on what they call the Broadway detail. He and Corwin show up one night when Georgia is performing on Broadway. For Corwin, it is love at first sight. Detective Fellows warns Corwin about pursuing Georgia King. It’s always dangerous to come between a gambler and his girlfriend, but Corwin ignores his advice.

The intersecting paths of the three main characters—Steve Maddux, Georgia King, and Don Corwin—create tension and competition among all three. The story line around Don Corwin is hard to believe at times, which is too bad because the film would have been more believable if the plot details had been more realistic. For instance, Don Corwin jeopardizes his own professional integrity mooning over Georgia King. He is so infatuated with her that he gives her more press coverage than anyone else who usually makes the news.

And then there is the obstruction of justice. Someone named Fitzroy shows up at Don Corwin’s office at the New York Star with witness testimony implicating Steve Maddux and his henchman Candy in the death of Felix Bender. Don Corwin does nothing with the tip, but Detective Bill Fellows intercepts Fitzroy outside Corwin’s office to bring him to the police station and obtain his signed statement. Detective Fellows berates Corwin for his behavior—and more than once—but he doesn’t administer any consequences, even when he confronts Corwin about ignoring Fitzroy’s incriminating evidence. It would have been more believable (and more noir) for Corwin to have been brought in for questioning and then released on his own recognizance. That would have given the narrative more credibility and would still have allowed Corwin to meddle in Georgia King’s life.

These two points didn’t get in the way of my enjoyment of the film. The story is different, and I always enjoy being surprised by plot twists. And Zachary Scott (another noir favorite of mine) is great as Steve Maddux. He’s a wonderful combination of the bad boy gambler and earnest suitor. Most film fans are probably more familiar with Scott’s work in Mildred Pierce, in which he plays the slippery cad Monte Beragon. But he has more range in the character of Steve Maddux than he shows in his performance as Beragon, and it was fun to see him play someone who is bad—but not really all that bad.

Sheldon Leonard deserves a shoutout for hamming it up as Felix Bender. Leonard played several bit parts in film noir before he moved to television, and most of them were criminals and mobsters. When he shows up as Felix Bender in Joe Marino’s nightclub office looking for Steve Maddux, he twitches all over, repeatedly shrugging his shoulders and sticking out his chin—and pointing his handgun at Maddux. Leonard was a producer on The Dick Van Dyke Show, but he also made a guest appearance in season 3, episode 71, “Big Max Calvada,” in which he plays Max Calvada. In The Dick Van Dyke Show, he is more threatening as the mobster father of a wannabe nightclub singer because he is more restrained, more in control, but the episode is still hilarious. And, of course, all ends well for Rob Petrie, Sally Rogers, and Buddy Sorrell.

May 3, 1946 (New York), release date  •  Directed by Frederick De Cordova  •  Screenplay by Leopold Atlas, Gordon Kahn  •  Based on a story by Charles Hoffman, James V. Kern  •  Music by Franz Waxman  •  Edited by Dick Richards  •  Cinematography by Carl E. Guthrie

Dane Clark as Don Corwin  •  Janis Paige as Georgia King  •  Zachary Scott as Steve Maddux  •  Faye Emerson as Ruby Marino  •  George Tobias as Joe Marino  •  Howard Smith as Detective Bill Fellows  •  Harry Lewis as Candy  •  Sheldon Leonard as Felix Bender  •  Joseph Crehan as Bob Fordham

Distributed by Warner Bros.-First National  •  Produced by Warner Bros.-First National