L'étrange destin de Nicky Romano

I am very pleased to see all of the positive responses here at IMDb to a film that was not considered to be much in its day. Very well done, and a lot more frank then you would expect from the era.

Not really a sequel to KNOCK ON ANY DOOR---the relationship is minor at best, non-existent at worst. You don't have to see the first movie to understand this one.

A very positive thing is the relationship between the lead (James Darren) and his alcoholic mother (Shelley Winters). He knows all about her past but loves her anyway, and the dialogue is good. Far too many movies perpetuate the stereotype that parents and children of the opposite sex cannot, or should not, discuss serious "adult" issues intelligently.

Strongly recommended bit of film noir.

In this sequel to "Knock On Any Door" (1949) we find Nick Romano's illegitimate son being raised by his mother and a band of well intentioned, but flawed residents of a tennement slum. Winters as his drug addicted mother, and Montalban as her pusher are stand-out performances. It is a gripping scene, when young Nick walks in on his mother and her pusher and catches them "in the act.." Seldom appears on TV, but well worth catching.

James Darren (as Nick "Nicky" Romano) grows up innocently, in the slums of Chicago. He's the illegitimate son of the original "Nick Romano", from "Knock on Any Door" (1949). Gin-medicating mom Shelley Winters (as Nellie Romano) does the best she can raising Mr. Darren; she hopes his musical talent will help him to achieve a better life, unlike his father. Ms. Winters, to her credit, organizes a nurturing group of deadbeats. Chief among them is boozing co-dependent judge Burl Ives (as Bruce M. Sullivan). Together, they raise Darren well, but the Chicago underworld threatens to drag him down…

Interesting "sequel" (of sorts); actually, this is an adaptation of Willard Motley third novel, "Let No Man Write My Epitaph", which was a follow-up to his first, "Knock on Any Door". The earlier film starred John Derek and Humphrey Bogart, and lacked much of the realism needed to accurately tell the story. There are some allusions to the earlier film; the shot of the adult Romano (Darren) ascending a stairway recalls the earlier film, as does a picture of the original Romano. This film is much better scripted; and, importantly, Chicago denizens could be shown selling, and using, Heroin. The drug use becomes a very big part of the picture.

This film isn't without flaws; and, for most of the early running time, it teeters so close to plodding, soapy melodrama, you might get disenchanted. However, growing characterizations from the three leads, and nice location photography, enhance the production. Additionally, there are good supporting performances; from, for example, smarmy Ricardo Montalban (as Louie) and legless Walter Burke (as Wart). And, of course, Ella Fitzgerald (as Flora) sings beautifully.

Around the time (at about 1:11) Mr. Ives has a saloon scene with Ms. Fitzgerald in the background (after a fix), the film really takes off. Situations become significantly more obvious. Darren, Winters, and Ives have big dramatic, well-played scenes. The intensity of the film heightens, to quite a very exciting conclusion.

******* Let No Man Write My Epitaph (1960) Phillip Leacock ~ James Darren, Shelley Winters, Burl Ives

Kind of a cross between "West Side Story" (though it's Chicago's West Side) and "Golden Boy" without Clifford Odets' lyricism, this sleaze-obsessed melodrama benefits from location filming that shows how awful the Chicago slums looked in 1960 and a motley, oddball cast. James Darren is the sensitive hood/concert pianist (and though he's proficient at the keyboard, he's hardly the prodigy the script makes him out to be), being raised by Shelley Winters at her Shelley Wintersiest, screaming and sobbing and unhinging easily. She and an assembly of longtime slum pals, including an uninteresting Burl Ives as a drunken ex-judge, are trying to give the kid a decent upbringing amid all the squalor. There are also Ricardo Montalban, excellent as an insidiously evil-charming dope peddler; Ella Fitzgerald, who gets to act a bit and isn't bad; and Jean Seberg, not quite credible as the Lake Shore girl Darren loves. The direction is uninspired, and the screenplay a little contrived (when it wants us to know Ives loves Winters, it just has him confess to the camera), but what's fascinating is the brio with which the filmmakers depict all the sex and violence and addiction and grimness. It's as if they were trying to show how grownup they are by thrusting all that misery in your face. It moves fast, and if your attention starts to wander, be assured, Shelley Winters will be erupting again soon.

With the recent death of Shelley Winters, all the principals in this movie are now gone, with the exception of Montalban. Having looked it up, I had forgotten what a fine cast it had, including the surprise of Ella Fitzgerald playing a heroin-addicted blues singer. Sadly, although this was a remake of a previous film, this great film could not be remade or even updated for today's market---simply because our society has changed to where the story in this picture (compelling as it is) would no longer be something people would consider important or even divisive. This plot could not even make the producers of Jerry or Maury take notice. Still, this picture will always be one of my two or three personal all-time favorites, and I will recommend it to anyone who reads these words I write: This is greatness that Hollywood can create...when it really wants to.