An Act of Murder

Caught this tough 1948 drama on TCM, which seems to have been out of circulation for a while. It's about a tough, by-the-book judge (Fredric March) who discovers his wife (Florence Eldridge, March's real-life spouse) has a fatal, painful disease, and rather clumsily plots a mercy killing. This means that for much of the film's length we have to watch Eldridge suffer, suffer, and it's quite uncomfortable viewing. There are plot conveniences that one other poster lists, and also the debatable position posed by the family doctor (Stanley Ridges, also good) that Eldridge should be lied to about her prognosis. Hal Mohr's photography thrusts itself deep into the Marches' anguish, and plot and subplot are contrivedly merged when Edmond O'Brien, as the liberal attorney who's romancing the Marches' daughter (Geraldine Brooks), injects himself into March's murder trial. Then there's some unconvincing, unsolvable philosophizing about euthanasia, and fadeout. I find a number of faults: Daniel Amfitheatrof's hyperactive musical score, which needlessly underlines everything, and was there ever a less appealing juvenile than pudgy, charmless Edmond O'Brien? But the issues are real, the debate is tense, and Mr. and Mrs. March are superb. Now if only TCM would find a way to show their other excellent co-starring vehicle from back then, also Universal and also directed by Michael Gordon, "Another Part of the Forest."

In this forgotten classic, a husband has to face the worst news imaginable: his wife has a brain tumor. They live in a small town, and the family doctor is also a close, personal friend. Together, he and the doctor agree not to tell her, so she can live out her life in as much peace as possible.

An added realism to this movie is the onscreen pairing of Fredric March and Florence Eldridge, who were married in real life. When he kisses his wife and worries how many more days he'll have with her, he's really kissing his wife. Freddie and Flo made a few movies together, and this is one of my favorites. I'm sure he would have given just as wonderful and compassionate a performance acting opposite another actress, but it's extremely touching to see him alongside his wife. If you like their rapport, check them out in Inherit the Wind.

Obviously, the title of this movie suggests some conflicting feelings about the plot. It's a very thoughtful piece that's a drama without dramatizing. It feels as real as it can be while still serving as entertainment. If you're a Fredric March fan, you've got to rent it.

Here Fredric March plays criminal court judge Calvin Cooke who has a reputation as a sort of "hanging judge" so that he has earned the nickname of "old man Maximum". Edmond O'Brien plays a defense attorney arguing a case before the judge. While O'Brien's character looks at the spirit of the law, Judge Cooke looks only at the letter of it and it is obvious from the opening court scene that the two do not like each other. What do they have in common? They both love the judge's only daughter, Ellie.

Now this doesn't mean that the judge is a bad guy. He likes his community, adores his wife of twenty years (Florence Eldridge as Catherine Cooke), and loves his daughter.

But more trouble is afoot than just a suitor for his daughter's hand that the judge dislikes. His wife Catherine has been having headaches, dizziness, and has been dropping things due to numbness in her hands. She confides in a friend who also happens to be a doctor that she has "a friend" with these symptoms, and the doctor sees through her ruse and says that she should come to his Philadelphia office the next day for a check-up. She does that, but lies to Calvin and says she is going shopping.

This is where I do some head scratching. The news is bad - Catherine has a type of inoperable brain tumor that means a certain and painful death. The doctor tells Catherine that everything is fine. Who does he call? After sticking a cancer stick in his mouth to relieve the stress (????) the good doctor calls Calvin, her husband and tells HIM the truth. They both decide to not tell Catherine, the ACTUAL patient, the truth. Later when Catherine finds out, she decides not to talk about it either, even though by the way she found out she must know that her husband knows. Why isn't anybody talking to anybody about this woman's illness? Everybody just goes on pretending. Maybe this is the way it was 60 years ago, and that is one reason I love classic film - it gives you real insight into a bygone era about how people handled life, in this case illness, the fact that doctors routinely smoked, that grown daughters lived at home and pretty much went from the custody of their fathers to their husbands, and that it was acceptable for a policeman to shoot a dog that had been run over by a car in plain view of the general public - a mercy killing. This last incident happens as the judge is walking down the street to get pain medicine for his wife that just isn't doing the job. The implication is that mercy killing is on the mind of "old man Maximum" too. How will all of this work out? Watch and find out.

Even though all of the characters in this film are basically "good people" with good intentions, you could almost classify this one as a noir, because there are no easy answers, no possible way to a happy ending. I've seen a restored version of this film on Turner Classic Movies in the last year, so I wish Universal would find some way to get it out to the public. The questions the film raises are still relevant today. Highly recommended.

There's something quite remarkable at the heart of this honest and direct portrayal of a very human crisis. The leads here - Frederic March and Florence Eldridge, real-life husband and wife - are completely and thoroughly a middle-aged couple and depicted as such, in all their wrinkles and folds and reflections on lives that have been lived. It's a reminder that the two kinds of people we see in movies are the very young and beautiful and the very old. The Cookes here are seemingly fully filled in, a husband and wife with grown children, in the midst of real lives, inhabiting their marriage with the deep love that is far beyond the romantic love that's the staple of motion pictures. This isn't the dashing Frederic March of the 1930s but a mature, restrained father and husband. It's a bit melodramatic at times - director Michael Gordon is a journeyman professional and not William Wyler, director of the great film of that era starring March, The Best Years of Our LIves. But watch for the details, such as the sharp, discordant strings stabbing along as windshield wipers swipe across the screen. I think I saw that in another movie made a few years later.

There has been no shortage of films in recent decades dealing with the highly emotive subject of Euthanasia but such was not always the case.

Although Willi Forst's 'The Sinner' from 1951 is generally credited with breaking the taboo, he was beaten to it by Richard Pottier's 'Meutres' a year earlier whilst devoted cinephiles will no doubt be aware of Wolfgang Liebeneiner's controversial 'I accuse' from 1941 which has been airbrushed out of film history because of its promotion of the Aktion T4 Euthanasia programme. The most effective episode of a mediocre British film from 1954 called 'Front Page Story' features a trial of a wife accused of 'mercy killing'.

Imagine one's surprise therefore to stumble across this novelty from Hollywood of the late 1940's adapted from Ernst Lothar's novel 'The Mills of God' and directed by Michael Gordon before he fell foul of the confounded HUAC.

Although a courageous, gripping and very well made film with committed performances from its first rate cast, it has been obliged neither to condemn nor condone the actions of a Judge who can longer bear to see his beloved wife suffer from a devastating and terminal disease. The final speech delivered by the brilliant Fredric March in which he declares that although legally innocent of murder he remains morally guilty, very much reflects the ethical and religious sensibilities of the time and the need not to offend them!