Fourteen Hours

Despite the distinction of being Grace Kelly's first film, (and she is quite good here), this film holds up with the best of the genre. It's one of those films that is incidentally seen by the casual channel surfer and, given five minutes, impossible to turn away from. This film is amazingly innovative in its premise and relies on character, (New York being as important as any other), and story to set the flow and tempo. There are deliciously cunning and unique character moments throughout a film that is, at the same time, full of contrivance and stereotypical sorts. (Do we really need to see another Irish-american policeman being negligent in his duties?). Yet, somehow all the parts equal a very solid whole and a very tense, sharply focussed and surprising film.

If you see this one on late-night tv as you flick through with your remote, be sure to stop and take a look. This one is a definite "yes".

Henry Hathaway is the director of Fourteen Hours, which stars Richard Baseheart as Robert Cosick, the young man threatening to jump from a Manhattan skyscraper. Paul Douglas is police officer Charlie Dunnigan who discovers the man and tries to talk him into coming off the ledge. The drama and setting are enhanced by the massive crowd of onlookers who are attracted by the great media circus playing out.

Douglas is supposed to be an older man but in fact was only seven years older than Baseheart, who at 37 played the role of a younger man. Douglas was a highly-competent supporting actor from the fifties who would have gone on to greater roles except for his death in 1959 at age 52. Other supporting actors are Agnes Moorehead as Mrs. Cosick (the mother), Robert Keith (the father), Grace Kelly, Jeffrey Hunter, Martin Gable, Barbara Bel Geddes (the girlfriend) and others. Baseheart was something of a Hollywood idol in his day and died after completing the narration for the opening ceremonies of the Los Angeles Olympics in 1984.

The story captures the skyline of New York, its people and media as the drama gives an air of immediacy to the suspense of whether or not the man will jump from the building. There are a number of close calls as various characters try to persuade the young man to come in off the ledge. It is Saint Patrick's Day and people have gathered in the streets for the parade but find themselves watching the disturbed character high above them. Day becomes night and one couple fall in love during the viewing of the ordeal. We learn about the boy's history, his upbringing, the parents, and the girlfriend.

The media show presents the young man as a sympathetic character with crowds warning him about the police as they move towards him overhead and women calling radio stations with proposals of marriage...a slice of New York at mid-century. The movie is still great entertainment today, if not quite up to the calibre of the movie The Naked City, made three years earlier.

FOURTEEN HOURS begins with Richard Basehart walking onto the ledge outside his hotel room. He's about to jump but can't quite bring himself to do it. A nearby cop (Paul Douglas) looks up and sees him on this ledge on the 15th floor and hurries over to the hotel to try to talk him out of jumping. Soon, his superiors come and relieve him--they'll work on trying to get Basehart down and Douglas simply isn't trained for this sort of thing. However, the so-called experts don't seem to get through to them, so they get Douglas back--after all, he had developed some rapport with the jumper. Soon, a series of family members are brought to help out, though in hindsight his mother (Agnes Moorehead) visiting was probably NOT the best idea. Does he jump or does he chose life? And, why in the first place did he decide to end it all? See for yourself to find out--you won't be sorry you did.

This film has one of the simpler plots I can think of--yet it all seemed to work very well. This is because the film was written so very well and the actors managed to make the most of it--especially Douglas as a sort of "everyman" cop. Taut direction, excellent lighting and a first-class production all around sure helped. Who would have thought such a deceptively ordinary idea could be handled so well?

Although this film traffics in some of the worst movie clichés (the good-hearted, potato-nosed Irish-American cop; the conventional--and tacked-on--Happy Ending(tm)), it manages to rise above them, thanks to fine acting, a gripping story, and excellent production values. (You feel teleported to the Manhattan of 1951.) The chemistry between Paul Douglas (as Officer Dunnegan) and an incredibly young Richard Basehart (as the suicidal young man) really drives the film. Basehart plays his part with a combination of brittleness and patrician airs that make his character believable. Douglas thankfully doesn't overplay his role; he has to be father-confessor to the young man while attempting to steer him away from thoughts of self-destruction. Some years after seeing this film, I read the non-fiction article that it is based on in an anthology (the article was originally published in The New Yorker as "The Man on the Ledge"). Let us just say that the ending of the article and the film diverge somewhat.

A movie like this presents a real challenge. After all, the producers have got what amounts to a single set, two main characters, and 90 minutes to fill. So to please ticket-buying customers, they better come up with something good. Fortunately, they do. The plot is a literal cliffhanger or maybe skyscraper is more apt--- will a suicidal young Richard Basehart jump from his 20th floor ledge or not. He certainly has audiences on both sides of the screen glued to the suspense, at the same time city police try to convince him it's better to be an unhappy bi-ped than a bird without wings. Good thing that the producers also come up with one of the best young actors of the time--- Basehart, who acts just foggy enough to teeter on a ledge and play Hamlet. Then there's that genial roughneck Paul Douglas as the cop who tries to persuade him that it's really better to be than not-to-be.

Note how ace studio director Hathaway keeps the hotel room bustling so that the static ledge shots don't become boring. Also, note how TV is competing with radio coverage at a time when the tube was just beginning to take off. Then there're the subplots that take the pulse of the city. The cynical cabbies do offer comic relief. But, frankly, I could have done without the young lovers, Paget and Hunter, who appear better suited to a Pepsi commercial, or the Grace Kelly soap opera that comes across as trite and unimaginative. But I guess the producers figured a variety of relief was needed. Also, I can see from the close-ups why Hitchcock liked Barbara Bel Geddes (Virginia). She pulls off the really difficult task of being sweetly wholesome without drowning the part in sugar.

All in all, there's enough skill and craftsmanship in this TCF production to keep even digital- age audiences on the edge of their seat.