jdsuggs

What a nice surprise. This is the type of Warner Brothers early forties broad comedy that tends to meander and never find itself. "Thieves Fall Out" does just the opposite. After a walk-up start, it works into a trot and then a gallop with the laughs coming from a twisty, lovably nutty plot and a riotously broad performance from Jane Darwell (Ma Joad, and "Mary Poppins" 's bird lady).

Eddie Albert wants a raise from his employer and father, Alan Hale, so that he can afford to marry Joan Leslie, the daughter of Hale's chief competitor in the mattress business. Jane Darwell, as Eddie's gangster-obsessed Grandma (and arch-nemesis of her son-in-law, Hale) schemes with Eddie to sell his legacy, a hundred thousand dollars which he will inherit when his mother dies, so that he can buy a factory his father's business depends upon and go into business for himself. When the legacy winds up in the hands of gangster Anthony Quinn, Eddie's mother (the joyfully overacting Minna Gombell) finds herself trembling in the crosshairs.

That's a darned funny set-up, and once we get there, we're off and running.

Nice guy Eddie Albert's no Eddie Bracken, at least laugh-wise, and Joan Leslie's great potential as a comedienne was not yet realized in 1941. The often hysterically funny Alan Hale is underused, too, especially in his comic battles with his mother-in-law, Darwell, which could have carried this thing for an hour. There's also an obnoxious Reggie Mantle-type rival for Eddie that we don't get a lot out of. The rivalry between the two in-law mattress kings doesn't get us much.

None of that matters, because with Darwell's blustering buttinskyism the film finds its stroke and never loses it. With snappy dialogue and a gun moll spirit, she is pitted against virtually every member of the cast in one scene after another, and the sparks fly. She brings it all in for a landing right on time.

The title, incidentally, comes from an old proverb: "When thieves fall out, honest men come by their own." I looked it up for ya.

Warner Brothers really liked this story. Adapting a magazine story about the circus, they first filmed it as a boxing story- "Kid Galahad"- in 1937 with Edward G. Robinson, Bette Davis, Chester Morris, and Humphrey Bogart as the villain. Chester Morris returned in the same role for a loose (and uncredited, I think) comedy remake, "The Kid From Kokomo", exactly two years later in 1939. In 1941 Bogart returned in a semi-villainous version of Robinson's role for this one, and the original circus setting was restored. (And Gig Young, who narrated the trailer for this one, returned in 1962 for the Elvis Presley boxing version).

"The Wagons Roll At Night" works because of the crisp pacing, lots of fireworks (and lions!) and especially the great cast. Eddie Albert plays the Chester Morris role- a lion-tamer this time- with his usual aw-shucks simplicity, and it works fine. Bogart- as the corrupt circus owner- is in gangster mode here, and that always works fine. Joan Leslie- hands off Bogie's sister!- in a girl-next-door role isn't going to miss- Warner Brothers hadn't yet begun to fully misunderstand and derail her promising career. But this one belongs to soulful Sylvia Sidney, as a fortune teller and Bogie's mistress. Her caught-in-the-middle character is the glue in this version. She's understated, elegant, and wonderful as the forgotten woman who makes basic decency a form of unsung heroism.

Those lions deserve a belly-rub, too- they do more roaring than MGM's entire film library, driving sequence after sequence and keeping the energy strong. You'll always know where this one is going, especially if you've seen any of the many other versions, but you'll never be bored as Bogie builds to a boil.

Deduct one star for the casual animal cruelty of 1941, but give it back just for casting Sig Ruman. I love that guy.

Romantic comedies usually involve two characters in conflict. To make it work, for starters, they need to be likable, somewhat evenly matched, and in a fun and funny situation. That's why "The Lady Takes A Sailor" doesn't work.

Jane Wyman and Dennis Morgan are in an interesting (not fun or funny) situation: her career and personal reputation- like Aimee Semple McPherson's, a few years earlier- hinge on proving the truth of a wild story behind her brief disappearance, while Morgan's career depends on keeping that truth a military secret. Since Jane is clearly the wronged party- she's shipwrecked, kidnapped, drugged, mocked, and lied to by Morgan- we're rooting for her, but amid mixed messages that she should sacrifice everything for an ungrateful military.

Wyman and Morgan are not equally matched. There's no cleverness (or fun) in their conflict, just a lot of confrontation, in which he effortlessly bullies, stalks, and taunts her. She's a helpless victim and he's basically a cad and a thug.

Morgan's character is therefore totally unlikable, and the idea that he might win this fight, much less get the girl, clouds any fun that this film has to offer. With all that, it hardly matters that the film is completely unfunny, or that the message is (once again) that women don't really need careers when a man- (even a repellent one!)- comes along.

Incidentally, nothing against Wyman, Morgan, director Michael Curtiz, or Eve Arden, who all had fine careers and did excellent work elsewhere.