The Scarf

Odd and very Strange Film-Noir. An Independent Production with a Low-Budget but High on Expressionism and Striking Scenes of Low-Brow, Everyday People in Their Environment.

John Ireland and Mercedes McCambridge are an Iconic Noir Couple. He of Intensity showing a Film-Noir Staple, Amnesia. Escaping from a Mental Institution and Confused about His Guilt (imprisoned for strangling a girl with a scarf and deemed "criminally insane").

McCambridge shows up in a Flashback (another Noir staple) Hitch-Hiking on a Road to Nowhere (a gig as a singer/waitress in a Dive). Her Nickname says it all, "Cash and Carry Connie". She is as Odd as Ireland with Her "Common and Unclassical" Look, Speaking in Short Clipped Sentences that Reveal Street Knowledge, Strength and a Fearful Cynical Attitude.

The Settings are Dismal and Bleak (prison, turkey ranch, and bar). James Barton, as the Turkey Ranch Owner, takes Ireland Under His Wing as the Search for the Truth Unfolds. All of the Characters in this Noir World are Offbeat and Interesting. Besides Our "Heroes", the Cops, Doctors, Farmer, Bar-Keep, and even the Piano Player are Bizarre and Noir.

Overall, this is an Off-Kilter Movie in every sense. Disturbing, Other Wordly, Shady, and Weird. Mercedes McCambridge, in this Underseen Gem, can Walk Alongside Ann Savage in "Detour" (1945) as a Quintessential B-Girl in a B-Movie with Style, Shocks, and Suspense. One of Film-Noir's Least Known and Unacknowledged Entries.

I saw this film while catching up on classic film noir. I was not expecting much--a little B film. And Maltin's summary did nothing to encourage my expectations. However, I found a solid film here.

It has an intellectual patina, which is surprising in an American film from 1951. The characters actually talk about some serious issues, though this talk may not be agreeable to some viewers. New York Times critic Bosley Crowther, in his review of this film (April 23, 1951), wrote that the film "expresses in several thousand words of dialogue. . .perhaps the least measure of intelligence or dramatic continuity that you are likely to find in any picture, current or recent, that takes itself seriously." Obviously, I don't agree.

The film is well cast and acted by an unusual combination of actors: John Ireland, Mercedes McCambridge, Emlyn Williams (the English actor), and Ezra Thompson in the leads.

Even the song, "Summer Rains," sung by McCambridge, is perfect for this film: a solid, torchy number in a minor key. Why wasn't this recorded by Peggy Lee or Julie London or Chris Connor? It would have suited them fine.

I was taken totally by surprise by John Ireland's appearance here. This is the only film I've seen Ireland in in which the man is hot, sexy, alluring--certainly not words that one would normally use in discussing John Ireland's appearance. A good part of this is due to cinematographer Franz Planer, though Ireland got some help from his costumes, too. Planer is careful to light Ireland's face in a flattering way, and Ireland just shimmers in the shadow and light of the sharp black and white photography. There is one close-up of Ireland that is stunning--a pure Hollywood glamour shot in the Hurrell tradition: Ireland is sitting at a table in a bar. He has his hat cocked so that it hides one of his eyes and throws half of his face into shadow. He slowly looks up at the camera. This kind of glamour close-up was usually reserved for top female stars in Hollywood's Golden Era, but Planer gave it to Ireland here.

In addition to these shots of Ireland's face, which make him truly handsome, he is wearing throughout most of the film a white t-shirt that makes clear that even at age 37 he still had a nice, in-shape body--nice chest, nice biceps. (Ireland started his career performing as a swimmer in a water carnival.) Later on Ireland is shown wearing a black turtleneck sweater that compliments his chest and a black leather jacket. And who put those pants on Ireland? They aren't expensive--just cheap cloth, but in every scene, those pants just hug the long, lean lines of his butt and his upper thighs. Hot stuff!

I found the film totally absorbing, so much so that I got through the final movie hokum scene which reveals the villain. I can see how some would react negatively to this film. For instance, critic Manny Farber writing in The Nation (May 26, 1951) called "The Scarf" "a disjointed, monstrously affected psycho-mystery freak show." Ha! That comment could be considered a reason to see this film today, Manny.

There is a satisfactory plot summary and commentary on this film on pages 152-3 of Robert Ottoson's The American Film Noir (Metuchen, New Jersey: The Scarecrow Press, 1981). However, Ottoson misidentifies Dr. David Duncan as "the prison psychiatrist." He is, in fact, a psychiatrist in private practice and a friend of Cyrus Barrington. Ottoson says that actor Lloyd Gough plays "the detective." Gough plays Dr. Gordon, who is the prison psychiatrist.

John Ireland stars with Mercedes McCambridge in "The Scarf" which features Emlyn Williams and Lloyd Gough.

Ireland plays an escapee from a mental institution who is sure he didn't strangle his girlfriend with a scarf, but unfortunately, he can't remember anything. He hides out in a cabin owned by an isolated old man (Ezra Thompson), helps out raising his turkeys, and eventually goes to Los Angeles to see his friend David Dunbar (Williams), a psychiatrist. Along the way, he picks up a hitchhiker (McCambridge) en route to a job as a singing waitress. She's wearing the exact same scarf, but he still can't remember strangling his girlfriend.

This is a fairly convoluted story, cashing in on the interest in psychiatry after World War II. Ireland looks very handsome here and does a good job in this small movie. The character of Ezra, the old man, is interesting and likable.

This may sound silly, but for some reason, McCambridge singing "Summer Rains" was the high point of the film for me. I thought she really created an atmosphere with it and raised the level of the film.

Decent performances, but check this film out for McCambridge.

Perhaps the script could have used a re-write, but otherwise this is a great movie with an excellent performance by James Barton, who has an intriguing back story, including being named one of Bing Crosby's favorite actors. McCabridge and Ireland have chemistry and are solid in their roles, and the former sings a fine song called "Summer Rain." It has a cynical view of human behavior, which, depending on your worldview, may be warranted, but the intelligently written script (despite some lapses) uses the three main characters to partially mitigate the cynicism. Recommended. P. S. If you are looking for non-stop action, this is probably not for you. There is a lot of dialogue, like a play, and Barton's character has some great lines as a farmer/philosopher.

The Scarf (1951)

A peculiar but sometimes charming movie, filled with empty moments, people sitting and talking, the wind whistling through trees in the desert, and a possible killer on the loose. The best parts for me were the odd pairing of a loner woman played by Mercedes McCambridge and the leading man on the run, John Barrington (John Ireland). Later, both of these characters appear in different places, sometimes crossing paths. McCambridge is a sharp, funny, slightly tragic actress, and Ireland is a super sweet guy. They make a surprising pair.

The setting for all this is a nice little village on the edge of the desert, and a dry turkey farm out of town. As Barrington suffers with his guilt and doubts about having committed a murder (strangling someone with a scarf), he bounces from place to place, just barely avoiding trouble. People are rough and Barrington can't get his head together, but he plugs along, butting against McCambridge at times, and the tensions grows before you realize it.

It isn't quite a Hitchcockian innocent man on the loose. We doubt him, too. We are unravelling the problem as they go. It isn't always a remarkable unfolding of events, but it has remarkable moments, and a strange, spare mood that is possessing. At first I almost stopped watching it because it was a bit clumsy and raw, but that becomes smoother and more essential over time. Eventually it becomes downright idiosyncratic in the best ways, just on the happy edge of weird. There's even a barroom scene with McCambridge singing a simple blues song, pretty amazingly.

The plot takes on some forced twists toward the end, but they are still dramatic ones. "The doctor is allergic to irrelevant laughter."