I Died a Thousand Times

`Mad Dog' Earle is back, along with his sad-sack moll Marie, and that fickle clubfoot Velma. So are Babe and Red, Doc and Big Mac, and even the scenery-chewing mutt Pard. The only thing missing is a good reason for remaking Raoul Walsh's High Sierra 14 years later without rethinking a line or a frame, and doing so with talent noticeably a rung or two down the ladder from that in the original. (Instead of Walsh we get Stuart Heisler, for Humphrey Bogart we get Jack Palance, for Ida Lupino Shelley Winters, and so on down through the credits.) The only change is that, this time, instead of black-and-white, it's in Warnercolor; sadly, there are those who would count this an improvement.

I Died A Thousand Times may be unnecessary – and inferior – but at least it's not a travesty; the story still works on its own stagy terms. Earle (Palance), fresh out of the pen near Chicago, drives west to spearhead a big job masterminded by ailing kingpin Lon Chaney, Jr. – knocking over a post mountain resort. En route, he almost collides with a family of Oakies, when he's smitten with their granddaughter; the smiting holds even when he discovers she's lame. Arriving at the cabins where the rest of gang holes up, he finds amateurish hotheads at one another's throats as well as Winters, who throws herself at him (as does the pooch). Biding time until they get a call from their inside man at the hotel, Palance (to Winter's chagrin) offers to pay for an operation to cure the girl's deformity, a gesture that backfires. Then, the surgical strike against the resort turns into a bloodbath. On the lam, Palance moves higher into the cold Sierras....

It's an absorbing enough story, competently executed, that lacks the distinctiveness Walsh and his cast brought to it in 1941, the year Bogie, with this role and that of Sam Spade in the Maltese Falcon, became a star. And one last, heretical note: Those mountains do look gorgeous in color.

I Died a Thousand Times is directed by Stuart Heisler and adapted to screenplay by W.R. Burnett from his own novel High Sierrra. It stars Jack Palance, Shelley Winters, Lori Nelson, Lee Marvin, Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez, Lon Chaney Junior and Earl Holliman. A CinemaScope/Warnercolor production, cinematography is by Ted McCord and music by David Buttolph.

It will always be debatable if remaking the excellent High Sierra (Raoul Walsh 1941) was needed or wanted by a 1950s audience? Especially since Walsh had himself already remade it as a great Western with 1949 film Colorado Territory, but taken on its own terms, with great production value and Burnett's personal adaptation taken into consideration, it's a very enjoyable film.

Set up is simple, it's one last heist for Roy "Mad Dog" Earle (Palance) before going straight, but as his attempts to break free from his emotional loner status fall apart, so does the heist and his future is written in blood right up there in the mountains. Heisler and Burnett put Earle up front for character inspection, easing in sympathetic tones whilst ensuring he remains a big physical threat. The air of fatalism is pungent enough and the finale is excitingly staged by Heisler. Cast performances are more than adequate if not comparing to the likes of Bogart and Lupino, while the Warnercolor is gorgeous and the photography around the Alabama Hills in Lone Pine is superb.

While not in the same league as High Sierra or Colorado Territory, that doesn't mean this is a wash out, more so if you haven't seen either of the Walsh movies. If you have, like me (High Sierra is one of my favourite Bogart performances), then comparisons and a feeling of deja vu will obviously infiltrate your viewing experience. That said, there is more than enough here to make it worth your time regardless of comparison and familiarities. 7/10

I love Shelley Winters in almost everything she does.

However she is miscast.

So miscast, in fact, it throws off Jack Palance's performance.

Jack is a master at snarling and showing contempt.

It is what we like about him as a King-Heavy.

Here though, in every scene he wants to punch her in the face.

He knows that we know he can do better than Shelley Winters.

We want him to.

Their lack of chemistry is a pall over the whole story.

Like I said: Love them both, just not together.

Nobody could match Jack Palance as a fearsome heavy and here, playing a freshly sprung ex-con lead bank robber, his authority over a couple of "punks" - junior gang members - including later-to-be star heavy in his own right, Lee Marvin, is powerful and utterly convincing. Nice details early on such as when presumptuous Marvin attempts to grab at the plan for the caper and 6'4" Palance without a word or look just brushes him aside with a sweep of the arm promises much - but little ultimately is delivered. Enter "Pard" the mongrel mutt to the accompaniment then and later of cutesy music. The furry friendly creature, loyal to the last, refuses to budge from the screen to the very end - unfortunately.

This seemed symptomatic of the movie's uncertain tone - veering from tough as nails crime caper to family fare. Who was to blame? Was it Palance who possessed a face and physique that uniquely qualified him to be the ultimate brute always wanting to demonstrate a reassuring sensitive thoughtful side?

This is a remake of High Sierra with Humphrey Bogart and Ida Lapino. Not quite as good as the original, although it has obviously talented, and great actors. It makes you wonder why they would remake a classic like High Sierra with minimal changes just 14 years later. One interesting difference between the original and this movie... In High Sierra Willie Best plays a stereotypical comical black man (Algernon) in a servile role at the camp. The remake had a comical Hispanic (Chico) played by Pedro Gonzalez Gonzalez. Both are incredibly insulting by current standards. It makes you wonder about the changes in the culture from 1941 to 1955.