Borderline Stuff

The Hays office, keeper of Hollywood's screen morals, not long ago forbade Republic, home of the Hollywood Western picture, to use the classic phrase, "Reach, buddy!", because it suggested excessive gunplay. Last fortnight the Hays office almost broke Republic's heart by scissoring the words, "Head for the border, boys!", from another Western: they intimated that the U.S.'s good neighbor, Mexico, was a haven for outlaws.

The New Pictures

The Spoilers (Universal) is a great Hollywood tradition. Rex Beach wrote the Alaskan adventure tale for all it was worth 36 years ago. Eight years later Hollywood made it into a silent picture starring He-Men William Farnum and

Tom Santschi. Shrewd Sam Goldwyn did it again in 1923 with Milton Sills and Noah Beery, and Paramount repeated in 1930 with leathery Gary Cooper and William Boyd.

This time it's strong John Wayne, who owns the gold mine, v. Randolph Scott, who doesn't but wants to, with slinky Marlene Dietrich in the background, always ready with a knife or a hard word. As Cherry Malotte, proprietor of Nome's Great Northern saloon, she is back in her Destry Rides Again role -a Bad Girl with a nugget heart.

Now 37, Saloonkeeper Marlene is quite at home in her rough-&-tumble role. Strong men quiver as she coaxes them on with: "Anything you can win you can collect." Nobody but Miner Wayne, who has already had the best years of Cherry's life, collects much. He gets her, his appropriated mine, and a beautiful going-over to boot. All ends well in the sturdiest of melodramas.

Spoilers is renowned for its long, concluding brawl between villain and hero. The current version (Wayne v. Scott) is a beaut. It begins in Cherry's overstuffed quarters on the saloon's second floor, ranges round the balcony, down to the barroom, smashing everything in sight, continues out through the front window into the street. When it is finally over, Sourdough Harry Carey pulls the hero together and chides: "That's enough now; come on."

But it is Version I (Farnum v. Santschi) that Hollywood and oldtime moviegoers like to recall. It set the pattern for future film brawls, became a pressagent's superlative for the ultimate in cinema scraps. It started small, but, according to Actor Farnum (still hale and hearty enough to undertake a small role in Version IV), it grew after Villain Santschi broke his nose on the first swing. Says Farnum:

"I thought he'd hit me on purpose. So I waited for an opening.> Then I let him have it. After that we were both punch drunk. The people on the sidelines . . . yelled, 'Stop them! They're killing each other!' He caught me over the left eye and I spurted blood like a stuck pig. . . .

"Dear old Tom! We got to be great friends afterward. We smashed a bookcase. I found myself inside it with Tom on top of me, and then it went over. It should have killed us. ... At the end I got a good shoulder lock on Tom, and I bent him back . . . until I heard him groan. . . . Then I had sense enough to let go. ...

"I've never been quite the same man since. . . . Besides the broken nose, I had two bent ribs and a crushed sinus in my cheek that gave me fainting spells for years."

There were giants in those days.

Butch Minds the Baby (Mayfair; Universal) is a pleasant little venture into Broadwayland, whose aborigines boast a bizarre language and a set of morals all their own. Considerably less inspired than Damon Runyon's original short story about a safecracker who has to mind baby, it manages to capture some of the rich Runyon flavor without going goo-goo.

Butch is big Broderick Crawford, a sentimental, kindhearted felon back from his third Sing Sing holiday, and on his best behavior, because a fourth offense would put him there for life. Baby is Michael Barnitz, 13 months, who ogles the burly burglar into minding him and his widowed mother (Virginia Bruce).

While mother is away working, Butch is forced to crack a safe for a pair of old pals who have forgotten how ("Frankly, Butch, that box is terrifying us a great deal more than somewhat"). It is a funny sequence. Baby fondles the nitroglycerin, the boys take time out to warm his milk, and everything comes off happily.

Nice talk: Butch, hoping to establish a fund for baby by playing a 50-to-1 shot, pleads with a big-time bookie to handle his bet. Asked whether he has "cash money" he exhibits his bank roll, a $5 bill. Says the disgusted bookie: "Five bucks is not cash money, it is bubble gum!"

Rio Rita (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer) was a bright-&-shining operetta when Florenz Ziegfeld first whipped it together in the brave days of 1927. Its first cineversion (1929) was more or less faithful to the original. This time there is little left but the title, to cover the so-so clowning of overworked Abbott & Costello.

The title tune and The Ranger's Song are still there, and hero (John Carroll) and heroine (Kathryn Grayson) trill them true, deep in the heart of Texas. But there are Nazis present, and their border espionage sours the proceedings.

Rootin', shootin' pals Abbott & Costello provide about two reels' worth of good slapstickery. Fatso Costello puts bombs in Nazi pockets, converses hilariously with a dog which has swallowed a radio, for the most part stands around with hands in pockets wondering what to do next. Apparently both Producer Pandro Berman and Director Sylvan Simon were in the same predicament.

CURRENT & CHOICE

This Is Blitz (Canadian documentary of blitz warfare, its cause and cure; TIME, April 13).

The Gold Rush (Revival of the Chaplin comedy, with narrative and music; TIME, April 6).

The Remarkable Andrew (Brian Donlevy, William Holden; TIME, March 30).

The Male Animal (Henry Fonda, Olivia de Havilland; TIME, March 23).

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