Numbered Men

It's a bunch of tough men in prison. That's why Raymond Hackett doesn't belong there. He's in for counterfeiting, but it was a frame-up. That's why girlfriend Bernice Claire has quit her stage career and gone to work on the farm where Blanche Friderici enjoys the company of the prisoners who are trusted to work on the road gang, where she feeds them on her home-made doughnuts. But Ralph Ince isn't just tough. He's mean. He's going to break out, ruin the welcome time outside for the trustees, and threaten Miss Claire.

It's derived from a stage play, and it's early enough days for sound that director Mervyn Leroy is hesitant about pacing the lines. Also, apparently there were some musical numbers for Miss Claire that were cut due to the collapse of musicals in 1929. Certainly the pacing of the movie suffers.

This is the story of a group of men in an honors unit at the local prison. Because these men have earned the warden's trust, they are able to work in the community and have special privileges. Unfortunately, somehow a complete thug was admitted to the honors unit and threatens to ruin the program for everyone. And, when this bad egg escapes, the rest of the inmates in the program help track down the guy and dispense justice. In the midst of all this is a story about a guy who was framed--framed by the same guy who just escaped.

Have you ever seen a film that is pretty good only to have an ending so preposterous and stupid that it made you wish you hadn't wasted your time? That's exactly my experience with "Numbered Men". The plot isn't bad at all and there are some nice performances--but the ending was just so dumb it pretty much sours me on the film. It earns a 4 simply because the first 90% of the film is decent and probably would have earned a 6.

If only prison was like this. The "numbered men" seem mostly to sit around in the lounge of privilege, play games, smoke and josh each other like they are just fellas at the fire house waiting for an alarm. The object is to get on the road gang where they will be on "the honor system". Those words are always spoken with quotes, by the way, by any of the actors. A special treat after work is to pile into the old truck like it's a hayride and visit a farm for home-made doughnuts. Very early talkie and shows the seams of that transition. Bernice Claire has a corn-fed niceness with a touch of vinegar that is appealing.The rest of the cast does not fare well. From a play and not much removed from a stage. Mervyn LeRoy directed. This is where so many prison picture clichés come from, it fun to ring the bell on them, although I don't remember another big house drama with doughnuts.

The opening credits, listing the jail characters only by their numbers, and an opening title card, grandly proclaiming how convicts give up the right to a name, promise a grim drama of men imprisoned, and railing against their fate. The director -- Mervyn LeRoy, who would later helm I am A Fugitive From A Chain Gang -- also promises something serious, and perhaps grim. Instead, however, what is delivered is entertaining for all the wrong reasons, as, when the script does not dwell on all the long-standing prison clichés, it fixes on some of the most absurd plotting ever seen in a prison movie.

The story features Conrad Nagel as a good-hearted ex-counterfeiter who takes a callow new inmate under his wing, and who, later, helps out the warden when a really nasty convict escapes by generating a prison riot. Nagel's performance is fine, but gets lost in the plot silliness, typified by a prison "honor system" where the warden shows a lack of concern about security that rivals Col. Klink. Other moments of plot outrageousness (mostly involving the lengths Conrad Nagel will go to sacrifice himself for the somewhat dimwitted juvenile hero) destroy any sort of believability, but add a sort of Ed Wood zaniness to the proceedings, particularly in the movie's final reel. LeRoy is a good enough director that the action in this film does not drag, so, if you like "so bad its good cinema", you will probably like this.

NUMBERED MEN (First National Pictures, 1930), directed by Mervyn LeRoy, is an early sound prison melodrama virtually forgotten by better ones that were to come, and doesn't star legendary tough guys as James Cagney, Edward G. Robinson or George Raft to attract any avid film buff's attention. While NUMBERED MEN was released shortly before any of these three actors made their mark on the motion picture screen, this was indeed a dress rehearsal for director LeRoy, whose prison drama, I AM A FUGITIVE FROM A CHAIN GANG (1932) featuring Paul Muni, has become legendary during the course of the years. NUMBERED MEN, however, stars some lesser known names by today's standards. Conrad Nagel heads the cast with his name under the title before listed second under Bernice Claire's during the cast listings and their roles, followed by Raymond Hackett and others. Adapted from a stage play, "Jailbreak" by Dwight Taylor, NUMBERED MEN, probably inspired by the current trend of Broadway's "The Last Mile" (1929) and MGM's THE BIG HOUSE (1930), follows that pattern with a slight twist to it.

Following its opening title which reads: "In God's glorious sunshine, everyone and everything bears a name. It is man's birthright - yet behind pitiless walls built with bricks of shame, there exist humans - with names long forgotten - now known by numbers only," the camera takes its full view of Stoneyhurst State Penitentiary before leading to the visitor's room and introduction to various convicts: Bud Leonard (Raymond Hackett), Number 31857, is serving ten years on charges of counterfeiting. He is loved by Mary Dane (Bernice Claire), "a swell kid with red hair," who's willing to wait for him. Bud shares a cell with Bertie Gray (Conrad Nagel), Number 26521, a pipe smoker serving time on charges other than counterfeiting, with six more months to go on his term. Other prisoners include "Happy" Howard (George Cooper), a harmonica player; "Baby Face" Pollack (Ivan Linow), Number 41226, who gets calmed by Bertie when going stir crazy; Jimmy Martin (Frederic Howard), Number 51034; and King Callahan (Ralph Ince), Number 33410, a crook who arranges for a jail break. Warden Lansing (William Holden) awards Bertie and Bud the honor system by offering them temporary privileges working a road camp, becoming employees of the state. Their work takes them near a farm run by the kindly Mrs. Miller (Blanche Frederici), who provides trustees with food and donuts. To get her chance to see and be near Bud, Mary gets a job working for Mrs. Miller. Trouble lurks when gangster, Lou Rinaldo (Maurice Black), who framed Bud on counterfeit charge in the first place, arrives to force his intentions on Mary.

Playing like a "B" movie, which it was, this 64 minutes programmer might prove disappointing for anyone expecting a solid prison melodrama. While the early portions show convicts having recreation time playing cards and listening to the radio, the warden does put enough trust in some to put them to work outside the prison watched by guards with no guns to keep them in their place. One scene worthy of mention is one where Bertie and Jimmy talk about Lou Rinaldo, whose face is superimposed on the screen between these two men. Anyone familiar with Bernice Claire, she's an singer with an operatic voice who specialized in musicals. Starring in some early screen adaptations as NO, NO NANETTE (1929) and SONG OF THE FLAME (1930), and best known for her duets with Alexander Gray in three early talkies, NUMBERED MEN was her only non-singing assignment. NUMBERED MEN came at a time when her movie career was coming to a close. Conrad Nagel, a popular leading man for MGM with a very distinctive voice, makes a go as a convict, though not so convincing as a tough guy. Tully Marshall, a familiar face in many motion pictures dating back to the silent screen, provides some humor as Lamuel Barnes, Mrs. Miller's neighboring farmer who raises chickens, and puts his distrust on the cons working so close to his area. As much as director LeRoy keeps the pace going, with plot more outside the prison rather than in, one wishes more time spent on prison breaks, cell fights and shooting by the guards. One of those is actually used, but on a limited scale. Take note that the actor, William Holden, is not the same Academy Award winning Holden of STALAG 17 (Paramount, 1953) and other popular films from that era.

An early talkie that surprisingly has survived over the years, NUMBERED MEN is simply a curiosity and not much else. Never distributed on home video or DVD, it turns up on very rare occasions these days on Turner Classic Movies cable channel. (**)