I diffamatori

The excesses of '50s tabloid journalism, embodied by the Confidential-like magazine portrayed herein, get a solid shellacking in this minor MGM production. It's written by the often-interesting Jerome Weidman and directed by the often-boilerplate Roy Rowland, and it was made at just the right moment to capture the public's love-hate relationship with scandal sheets. A couple of details don't ring true: Would the puppeteer (Van Johnson, quite OK) really become a major TV personality from these tired kiddie sketches, and are we really to blame the reptilian editor (Steve Cochran, excellent) for what happens to Johnson's son? And the climax involving Cochran's mother (Marjorie Rambeau) I don't believe for an instant. But it's worth a look as a portrait of the glam life at the time, with posh two-bloody-Mary lunches and Park Avenue apartments and big, big cars.

The scenes involving Steve Cochrane (speaking with MGM's exaggeratedly elegant diction) and his mother (Marjorie Rambeau, brilliant, as he is, in her role) are creepy. The atmosphere is fetid. This is indeed an insider's look at what could make someone invent and edit a Hollywood scandal rag along the lines of Confidential.

His office, with a scared secretary, works, too; and the story surrounding his frail mother's being snubbed by head waiters because of her son's sleaziness is shocking.

We're really in Tennessee Williams country with these people.

If only the man he sets out to ruin had been played by someone other than wholesome Van Johnson. Yes, Johnson gives it his best; but he isn't, through no fault of his own, convincing as someone who's spent four years in jail.

Then there is his wife, Ann Blyth. It's not so much that we think of her in her greatest role, Veda in "Mildred Pierce," as that she seemed ideally cast in that and doesn't -- for me, at least -- work in sympathetic roles.

She has a cold, mean look, which is accented by the heavy eye makeup she wears here.

It turns sanctimonious when they and their son are in the spotlight.

Nevertheless, Cochrane paints an indelible picture as the society-hating, mother-loving Park Avenue monster. And Rambeau is poignant, even with the Grand Guignol ending.

Though Van Johnson is the subject of the Slander, the driving force behind this film is Steve Cochran as the cynical publisher of a supermarket tabloid magazine. He's one scary dude who has no feelings and no one can reach him, not even his mother Marjorie Rambeau.

Back in 1957 Confidential Magazine which was the prototype of things like the National Enquirer of today was publishing all kinds of exposes on celebrities. Cochran's rag is also looking to do an expose on Van Johnson who is a newly popular host of a kid's show. Back during the Depression he committed a holdup and did his time and Cochran wants an to expose him. Cochran though will back off if he will give him some dirt on another girl who grew up on his block who became a big movie star.

Cochran is such a rat that he approaches Johnson through his wife Ann Blyth. This raises all kinds of issues in their marriage.

Slander also makes some subtle references to the tactics of the House Un American Activities Committee and how they would 'trade up' with immunity if someone would give them a bigger prize.

Johnson and Blyth turn in some good performances, but it's really Cochran you have to watch. He will thoroughly creep you out.

I heartily concur with the first posted comment. Far from being "superficial" as Leonard Maltin's review describes it; "Slander" is a smart, straightforward drama, well acted by all the leads and expertly crafted by veteran director Roy Rowland.

Steve Cochran, generally an inarticulate brute in films, here plays the slick, debonair owner of a notorious gossip magazine who is anxious to break a big scandal to reverse a recent decline in sales. He zeroes in on children's entertainer Van Johnson, a decent, stand-up guy who nonetheless has a secret in his past which would most likely end his suddenly flourishing television career if found out. Johnson can save himself and his family from disrepute if he "trades" Cochran damaging information he has about a popular movie actress he knew while growing up in a tough neighborhood years ago.

The movie chronicles this moral dilemma in a balanced, intelligent way, methodically laying the emotional and intellectual groundwork for the difficult choices the major characters end up making. It's one of those nifty little flicks that reminds one of some efficient piece of machinery - no wasted motion.

Cochran once again is excellent. His technique is exceptional, unerring. He's got this guy, a bullying, insecure poser, down. Watch the scene in the restaurant where he finds out that he's being bumped from a TV talk show due to a fellow guest's refusal to appear on the same program with him. Just before the steely resignation and the business-like thirst for payback, he's hurt, like a little boy who finds out he hasn't made first team. Johnson and Blyth are appealing as the devoted husband and wife, as is the child actor Richard Eyer, who plays their son.

But special mention has to go to the great Marjorie Rambeau, sort of a Susan Sarandon type in her younger days, here she plays Cochran's weary, alcoholic, deeply ashamed mother. Her impossibly large, sad, soulful eyes aptly foreshadow the tragedies that follow.

Plot—Family man Scott is about to hit the TV big time with his engaging puppet show. Trouble is a scandal magazine run by the unscrupulous Manley threatens to publish a damaging article on Scott's past unless he spills the beans about the indiscretion of a celebrity much bigger than he that only he knows about. Thus Scott faces a moral dilemma—should he make the trade-off or not.

Back in the mid-50's, a lot of folks were tired of Photoplay, Screen Stars, and their like. In short, they wanted insider stories, real low downs on the seamy side of the air-brushed celebs of show biz. Thus Confidential magazine hit the stands with a splash that shook up the whole industry. Hollywood, in particular, quaked in fear; after all, they had big money invested in their carefully molded stars, and any hint of scandal could mean ruin for their investment. Rumors circulated that lesser figures could be sacrificed to the scandal sheets to protect bigger ones, e.g. George Nader to protect Rock Hudson. Of course, public morals were much more stringent in those days. Homosexuality and infidelity, for example, were strictly forbidden, and, if exposed, could wreck a career.

Clearly, Slander is a Hollywood attempt to strike back at the scandal purveyors. Just as clearly, the deck has been loaded by casting choices. Cochran's dark good looks usually translated into tough hoods. Here he still carries a dark appearance and a sinister reputation, but executes the oily slick Manley in expert non-thuggish fashion. It's the most tightly controlled turn I've seen from the fine actor. On the other hand, who embodied All-American virtue more solidly than sandy-haired freckle-faced Van Johnson. Add the sweet innocence of actress Blythe and the boyish appeal of moppet Eyer, and the deck is loaded from the outset.

Nonetheless, the movie's first part setting up Scott's (Johnson) moral dilemma is quite well- done, tight and economical. The second half, however, descends into heavy-handed melodrama, contrived and far-fetched. I take the latter as MGM's effort at hyping the price the magazine and Manley (Cochran) must pay for their unscrupulous acts. Too bad that the screenplay over-hyped this second part since the trade-off's sleaze factor is enough to discredit the magazine's shady enterprise. At the same time, the contrivances not only overdo the worthy message, but work to remind us that this is only a movie, after all.

Of course, changes in public morals have dated the movie. Nonetheless, with a less contrived second half, the film might succeed on its own merits, even now.