Escape from Crime

Freshly paroled from prison, photographer Richard Travis (as "Red" O'Hara) immediately goes to see his estranged wife Julie Bishop (as Molly). Hearing a man in the house, Mr. Travis believes Ms. Bishop is a "two-timing little twit" and plans to shoot the lovers. Travis changes his mind when Bishop surprises him with a red-haired baby son. Hoping to support his new family, Travis tries to get a job at "The Illustrated News" with news editor Frank Wilcox (as Cornell). They won't hire an ex-con, but "go-getter" Travis delivers exclusive photos of a bank robbery to the paper and is hired as staff photographer...

Going straight is difficult due to Travis' friendships with underworld types, like Rex Williams (as "Slim" Dugan). Even worse, Travis is assigned to enter his old prison and illegally photograph an electric chair execution. Arched acting and brisk direction, by D. Ross Lederman, make this revision of "Picture Snatcher" (1933) play nicely. The original story suggested sex between two of its stars and an independent, female co-worker; obviously, this was abandoned. Don't miss the opening minutes, or you won't see future "Honeymooners" TV comedy legend Jackie Gleason (as "Screwball" Evans).

****** Escape from Crime (7/25/42) D. Ross Lederman ~ Richard Travis, Julie Bishop, Frank Wilcox, Rex Williams

Poor Jackie Gleason who thought I'm sure he was getting a break in Escape From Crime. But all we see of the Great One is a few minutes at the beginning of the film before Richard Travis gets his parole.

Travis gets a parole with the usual restrictions. When he gets out he discovers he's a father.. Travis, Julie Bishop, and their kid plan to settle down once he can get a job as a photographer a trade he learned in stir.

He does get one with Frank Wilcox's paper, but he runs into his old hoodlum pals who keep turning up.

The film moves at blinding speed to cover up all that was lost in the editing. Warner Brothers used a meat cleaver approach.

Sub par product from the brother's B picture unit.

Fast-paced crime drama loosely based upon James Cagney's `Picture Snatcher (1933).' Richard Travis plays a photographer ex-con trying to go straight. He lucks out by being at the scene of a bank robbery, takes photos of the shooting of a cop, and is rewarded by a job in the professional paparazzi. When offered a raise, a $1,000 bonus, and a writing assignment (vice getting fired) to take pictures of his old gangster friend's execution, our hero talks his parole officer into getting him into prison where he takes the picture. On the way out, he is discovered and has to struggle to get the film to his editor. En-route back to prison for violating parole, our hero rescues his captor who has become embroiled in a shoot-out with another gangster from Travis' old days.

OK, this plot is somewhat convoluted, let alone trying to do it all in 51 minutes on what is obviously a very low budget. Not much time for character development and the cast comes and goes with great speed. Continuity is provided by the interactions of Travis and Wade Boteler who plays Police Lieutenant Riff Malone (a.k.a. `Irish' and `Lucky'). The policeman alternates between hounding the ex-con and supporting his escape from crime. Boteler had nearly 400 films to his credit – typical of a number of the cast members. The `Great One' Jackie Gleason has a small part as a con in the beginning of the movie but is never seen again.

Themes include: crime does not pay; the inability to get a job after being released from prison (Travis was not guilty of the first crime); overcoming adversity to do the right thing (the hero must and does get rewarded for his efforts); and loyalty to friends vs. duties to family. Not too bad to try to do all this in 51 minutes. Perhaps a little longer might have been better.

One good scene uses shadows to depict strapping a man into the electric chair.

The film is worth seeing if only to witness 12 shots fired into what obviously is a bulletproof trash can – not harming our hero hiding behind. They don't make them like this anymore.

Richard Travis and Julie Bishop star in a short B, "Escape from Crime," a Warners film from 1942.

Travis plays a parolee who gets photos of a bank robbery and parlays it into a job on a newspaper. He later gets into trouble when his boss wants him to worm his way into the prison and photograph the execution of one of his old crime buddies.

It's very hard to judge these films - they were probably made in an afternoon. You'll see lots of familiar faces, as most if not all of these actors later went on to work in television.

Jackie Gleason has a tiny role. Needless to say, he made it bigger than all of them.

"Escape from Crime" moves fast and has a convoluted plot.

No need to recap the already-reviewed plot. The movie is a good example of an assembly line product that studios rushed into production for undemanding wartime audiences at a time when they were crowding theaters in record numbers. The film itself may be unmemorable, but the results still show slick professionalism of the studio system (here, Warner Bros.). It's also a chance for a newcomer like Travis to get needed exposure. He's Hollywood handsome, performs capably enough, but leaves no lasting impression and is a good example of an actor whose real medium turned out to be TV. Ditto comedian Jackie Gleason and William Hopper of old Perry Mason show in a bit part. In fact this is precisely the level of entertainment that would later transition to TV without missing a beat.

In passing—was there any cop during this period who wasn't Irish. My guess is that the stereotype was a safe and popular one because it raised no controversial connotations, unlike, say, a German or French cop. Also, both shootouts are rather conspicuously overdone. Note in the hotel room how the windowpane manages not to shatter despite fusillade after fusillade of police bullets. I suspect this was an effort to generate an appearance of more action in a crime drama that's otherwise somewhat short of the norm. Anyway, the 53 minutes remains a good example of routine bottom-of-the-bill entertainment, circa 1942.