No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)& Other Jack LaRue Films

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No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)& Other Jack LaRue Films

Post by moira finnie »

I'm hoping that others will share their opinions of the somewhat odd Brit Noir, No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948). If you saw this movie at the TCM Film Festival on the big screen or in one of the occasional showings elsewhere, could you please describe your own and other audience members' reactions to this film?
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I only caught a few moments of No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948) which was premiered on TCM last night, before realizing that something was wrong. I was unaware that it was supposed to be set in New York City, until I went back to the beginning of the movie to watch the intro with Robert Osborne. I was very amused and confused by the variety of accents on display and kept wondering why this didn't have the gritty authenticity of British noirs like They Made Me a Fugitive (1947) or The Long Memory (1953). Then everybody started slapping everyone else! It was almost like The Three Stooges made really nasty by too many steroids, and an absurd amount of violence, though I will reserve my thoughts on the movie overall until after I've had a chance to see the whole flick again. My favorite weird character: Ma Grisson, played by Lilli Molnar, seen in all her gaudy glory below:
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I was quite amused when RO described the kidnapped and the abductor's relationship as a form of "The Stockholm Syndrome," but to each his own, I guess. I also love the idea that the book by James Hadley Chase was the most popular reading material of British soldiers during WWII. It must have been just the kind of lurid distraction that millions of healthy, lustful young men longed for just before they went out to be killed for king and country before many of them had a chance to know life.
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Jack LaRue and Linden Travers in one of the few non-violent moments in this movie.

I do feel sorry for poor Jack LaRue, who sort of ruined his own career by choosing to play in the similarly themed and equally controversial The Story of Temple Drake (1932). I really liked him as Carlo, the suave roué putting the moves on Katharine Hepburn's aviatrix in Christopher Strong (1933). He had my sympathy in that movie and he almost did in last night's movie, until the slapping started. He was a very decent actor, with a certain soulfulness and lack of artifice that makes his many bit parts rather puzzling since he was capable of much more. He is one of those guys who you can never believe is holding up the scenery as someone's gunman or a baddie of some sort. At least in Orchids he had a chance to play a character with more shades of good and bad than he did in the earlier Faulkner-based film, in which he was completely depraved and evil--even if he was one of the most brutally honest characters in American movies of the studio era. Are there any other movies worth seeing that anyone else has seen in which Jack LaRue played a sympathetic central character?

Btw, to see some of the controversy on both sides of the Atlantic surrounding this movie, you might want to read this article from Life Magazine in 1948 called "London Can't Take It." Don't miss the pictures of the most vocal critics. Now I know where the figure of Miss Grundy came from in the Archie comics. Pop culture--ain't it wonderful?
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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

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I thought Miss Blandish was a riot - especially the accidental slipping into Brit-speak in the middle of Americanese gangster talk. I really loved the film, despite all the ridiculousness of it. The part I really couldn't understand was the comic act - imitations that sounded nothing like the actors he was supposed to be imitating. Nor were his jokes funny. The nightclub audience in the movie roared with laughter.

I have to admit, I was simply waiting for Jack LaRue to show up. The others, especially the reporter or whatever he was with the terrible accent, who ended up climbing all over the roof, I wanted dead. The exception was the Claire Trevor type dame with the blonde hair. I liked her. I'm not sure why, but I did. Maybe I just like Claire Trevor.

They must not have had a production code in what we think of as stodgy England at the time, because there were several incredibly long lingering kisses (yes!) and a girl getting completely undressed while a man watches in one scene. One kiss I swear was at least a minute long, and made me wonder why the leading lady didn't pass out. I would have if Jack LaRue had his hands on me. Jack LaRue I found tremendously moving, as usual. I really can't understand why he wasn't a bigger star. If he could be good in this movie, he really must have been a good actor. And he's incredibly scary/sexy in Temple Drake.

I don't know of any sympathetic lead roles, but I did find a reference to a film called Gentleman from Dixie, in which he was supposed to have broken out of the typecasting.

Another heartbreaking story I read was that LaRue spent all his money early on, and had to take any job that came up. While waiting for his cue in a bit part, he was pointed out to Anne Shirley as an example of what happens when an actor doesn't save for the lean times.

At least we have a few of his movies to keep us warm, and I hope wherever he is, he knows that there are a few of us who think he's got IT.

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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

Post by moira finnie »

Oh, thanks so much for responding, JF and King!
JackFavell wrote:I thought Miss Blandish was a riot - especially the accidental slipping into Brit-speak in the middle of Americanese gangster talk. I really loved the film, despite all the ridiculousness of it.
The one who struck me as the funniest in this regard was the police captain (Jack Lester) who kept groveling before wealthy Mr. "Money Bags" Blandish (Percy Marmont). I was quite surprised to find that Jack Lester was born in Oklahoma! He must've lived in Britain a long time, 'cause he sure didn't sound like an Okie or a NY Irish cop. My other fave in the bad accent department was the guy pictured below with the hat on, whose name was, I think, Danny Green. This character was a very combative guy who appeared to have a homosexual strain which was mockingly referred to by Fenner (JF's fave,played by the annoyingly gun-happy reporter Hugh McDermott) in the scene in the bar with Bailey (Leslie Bradley) and Tim (Sid James as the bartender). Danny, playing the part of Flyn, thought he was imitating Jimmy Cagney, but it came out as Leo Gorcey imitating Cagney! Every time he opened his mouth I started laughing. It was a good thing that he was bumped off rather soon or I might have given up on the movie.
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JackFavell wrote:The part I really couldn't understand was the comic act - imitations that sounded nothing like the actors he was supposed to be imitating. Nor were his jokes funny. The nightclub audience in the movie roared with laughter.
I figured the nightclub audience was what they usually are in real life: drunk out of their minds. The Sydney Greenstreet imitation was far worse than the Peter Lorre one, though both were bad. And how about those dancing dervishes, Toy and Wyng, whose act seems like something that might have been in a B movie from Warners in 1938. While watching them twirl and Louis the Headwaiter oooh and aaah over their gyrations it occurred to me that NOTHING in this movie seemed to belong to the postwar period in America or the UK, though I did enjoy the Art Deco meets the Lascaux Cave-influenced decor in the nightclub and the sense of space relayed in some of the cleverer shots, like the one below from, I suppose a matte painting and a real car on a sound stage.
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JackFavell wrote:I have to admit, I was simply waiting for Jack LaRue to show up. The others, especially the reporter or whatever he was with the terrible accent, who ended up climbing all over the roof, I wanted dead. The exception was the Claire Trevor type dame with the blonde hair. I liked her. I'm not sure why, but I did. Maybe I just like Claire Trevor.
I was constantly confused by the flurry of peroxide blondes in this this movie. The girl you liked seemed like a cross between Trevor and Una Merkel with a bit of Ann Sheridan thrown in, but without any of their warmth. I don't think I ever got the blondes separated into their individual identities (such as they were) I think there was:
1.) The nightingale who tried to put the moves on Jack (prompting more slapping from a cranky Jack, who was already besotted by the blandishments of Miss Blandish. Jeepers, there were more slaps in this movie than a dozen Joan Crawford movies) but she wound up with Mr. Power of the Press (who deserved to fall two stories, be cut in half by a hail of tommy gun bullets, and be blown up by a grenade. Why did he have to survive? Were audiences clamoring for young love to go skipping off the screen? Or was the final event of the film meant to show the fragility of the orchid as a metaphor for their happiness too? Do you think I'm over-analyzing this? :wink: ).
2.) The Brillo-haired blonde who was a seriously underfed cupcake with toothpick legs at the nightclub who wore that crazy zippered costume who seemed to be a "hostess/hat check girl" with lots of gossip to share
3.) The girlfriend of Bailey's who was a stripper and became the bimbo du jour of creepy Eddie (Walter Crisham), until she "knew too much"
JackFavell wrote:They must not have had a production code in what we think of as stodgy England at the time, because there were several incredibly long lingering kisses (yes!) and a girl getting completely undressed while a man watches in one scene. One kiss I swear was at least a minute long, and made me wonder why the leading lady didn't pass out. I would have if Jack LaRue had his hands on me. Jack LaRue I found tremendously moving, as usual. I really can't understand why he wasn't a bigger star. If he could be good in this movie, he really must have been a good actor. And he's incredibly scary/sexy in Temple Drake.

Yes, I too was waiting for Jack to show up. It took too damn long too. I'm afraid I saw the scary-sick part more than the sexy aspects of his character in Temple Drake, though it didn't help that I'd read the story before seeing the movie (believe me, the novel Sanctuary is far more decadent than the pre-code film). LaRue's improbably named Slim (he wasn't all that skinny) was really the only civilized man in the cesspool of the nightclub. He also experienced real pain when he realized what he was doing and saw the ultimate end of it. He was more human than any of the alleged good guys too.

Just because we can, let's enjoy a few non-approved kissing moments. Btw, I didn't think that Linden Travers (who was the sister of Bill Travers!) was any great shakes as an actress, though I liked the moment when she said “Maybe it’s because you’re the first man I’ve ever met, I love you,” to Jack, whose impoverished soul (and conscience in some ways) has sprung to life in her presence.:
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JackFavell wrote:Another heartbreaking story I read was that LaRue spent all his money early on, and had to take any job that came up. While waiting for his cue in a bit part, he was pointed out to Anne Shirley as an example of what happens when an actor doesn't save for the lean times.
I read that story before too, but think that he wasn't just a foolish actor who spent money like water: he got typecast and never really escaped, though he had much more to offer.
kingrat wrote:I was fortunate enough to see the restored No Orchids for Miss Blandish at the TCM festival. Because of its rarity, this was one of the films I most wanted to see. In fact--doesn't it often happen this way?--it was the only one of nine or ten that I wasn't crazy about.
King, did you notice if the audience seemed upset by the violence or amused by the cliched dialogue? (My favorite remark to barkeep Sid James: "Keep the change. You better get some Lysol.") I don't like blood and guts either (or the strong suggestion of violence) in my entertainment but to me this movie's violence was ludicrous, probably because the only character I believed was flesh and blood was played by Jack LaRue and by the end of the film, Linden Travers seemed sort of touching in her realization that her return to her pampered home was a kind of death.

The reality of violence also wasn't helped by the fact that the sound department seemed to use a recording of a wet cap pistol to mimic the sound of a gun. The Brits needed to raid the sound vault at Warner's for the exploding crack of a gunshot that punctuated their movies.
kingrat wrote:Seeing it immediately after the very moving and emotional Wild River did not help, and to me it compared unfavorably with The Story of Temple Drake. The author of the novel, James Hadley Chase, was accused by some of imitating or plagiarizing from Faulkner's Sanctuary, on which Temple Drake is based.
Wild River's moving realism would not be a good appetizer before No Orchids! I haven't read the allegedly steamy book by Chase, but in the movie the bond between captor and prisoner is much friendlier than that in Temple Drake, though I can see why the premise (not to mention the casting of the movie) prompted more people to make the comparison.

Here are two clips I mashed together to give people some idea of the flavor of the movie. The first part is the beautifully fluid beginning of the movie, which seemed to promise something special; followed by the highly effective arrival of Jack LaRue, which leads to a hilariously over-the-top sequence with Leslie Bradley as the blubbering gang member Bailey, a kidnapper and would-be molester who acts as though he couldn't cross the street by himself.:
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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

Post by JackFavell »

He deserved to die. His blubbing was pathetic. :D But he did make Jack look even better. Loved his entrance! He's awesome!

Great illustration of the gunshots, they were really silly sounding.

I thought Linden Travers (that's weird about her being Bill Travers sister!) was OK, but she had this curiously calm demeanor all the time, like at the end of that scene.... I think she was supposed to be entranced in some way by Slim, under his spell, but she just looked kind of waxen and bored. I mean she just witnessed a murder, and then she pretty much steps over the guy so she can go look at Slim's dice. Granted the other guy was a scumbag, but still.

The front of the nightclub shot reminds me of some of those TCM intros with the windows.
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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

Post by Jezebel38 »

I saw NO ORCHIDS FOR MISS BLANDISH last year at the Pacific Film Archive during their British Noir series. My brother and his date came along, and I warned them not to expect much – but I really had to apologize to them afterwards, as this is a pretty bad movie. None the less, I wanted to see it because of its notoriety and the fact that Jack La Rue has the lead (top billing no less). I watched and recorded it last night on TCM. The English actors trying to portray New York gangsters is laughable, and the film is a real mish mash with the night club numbers and comic relief of the head waiter along with the “romance” scenes and the high body count of the hoods being knocked-off wily nilly – the ending is over the top, too. Wendy has mentioned the long, lingering kisses, but the one in front of the fireplace, JLR actually runs his hand inside her robe and over her breast.

So, if you can’t already tell, I am in the camp that thinks Jack La Rue has “IT”. His priest in A FAREWELL TO ARMS was the first role I remember seeing him in – a sympathetic role with a great swoon worthy close-up shot. And I like him as Carlo in CHRISTOPHER STRONG – too bad he only has a few scenes. But it wasn’t until I saw TEMPLE DRAKE that I really got hooked – now I seek out his films, even though they are mostly B pictures. I haven’t yet gotten a hold of GENTLEMAN FROM DIXIE.
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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

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You know, I thought I saw that hand under the robe move! I don't know how I could have forgotten it. Reason enough to have a copy at home. I wish I'd recorded it now.

Jack also plays a priest in Captains Courageous, at the end when Freddy goes to light the candle for Manuel. Four lines, but I always noticed him.

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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

Post by moira finnie »

I have been thinking about the overt lack of reference to the war and its aftermath in No Orchids for Miss Blandish and the unlikely romance between the rather glacial Linden Travers and the violent Jack LaRue characters. Is it possible that there is a parallel between the posh figure of Britannic majesty (Miss Blandish) and the rough, American earthiness of Slim (the American LaRue)? The story of these people could be seen as a reflection of the sometimes uneasy but necessary shotgun marriage between the UK and the US in the last 100 years. The empire and the upstart colonials needed one another during the recently ended conflict, (though the book actually came out in 1939 in Britain) and the gyrating balance of power between the two seesawed considerably. The liaison between the cold woman (who never seems to have the imagination to have any compassion for the agony her father may be enduring) and the tormented man (whose brutal solution to every problem is violence) is a kind of power struggle, though ultimately the two appear to realize that they can't live without one another since she falls in love with him in part because he is a successful criminal who gives her a thrill and he with her because of the hauteur and elegance she represents. Maybe this movie was a way of exposing the underlying tension between English and American values. Just a thought!

Btw, the fascinating essay by George Orwell contrasting Raffles by E.W. Hornung with No Orchids for Miss Blandish by James Hadley Chase and the implications of the shift of ethical attitudes shown in these "mere entertainments" is here.
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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

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Wow! Moira. You are brilliant. I'm stunned at how well the movie works to describe our relationship with Great Britain after the war.

I can't wait to read the article!
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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

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I don't want to read any posts becuz I'm not finished watching the movie and I don't want to finish watching the movie becuz I don't want to give up Jack LaRue and I don't want to give up Jack LaRue becuz...becuz... :cry:

But I am getting my notes together.
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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

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I can't wait to read your thoughts on the

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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

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"I never count my chickens before their necks.”

WHEW!! What a tough little movie “No Orchids for Miss Blandish” is. I have never even heard of this film before, so I’m very grateful for the heads up. But I gotta tell ya (and I’m not going to explain this very well), this movie felt strange to me. It felt like a..a clone. I felt like I was watching someone who studied “The Gangster Film” genre, took all its ingredients and made a movie of it the mix.

It felt like a movie once removed.

I told you I wouldn’t be able to be coherent.

The Grissom gang is a wonderful motley ‘crue’ of Hollywood gangster-types. Maybe that’s it –everyone is A Type. There’s the:

* The Hot-headed Psycho who’s already been described as having a Leo Gorcey type dialect. He’ll bash you in the head as soon as look at’cha.

* The Strong Arm Lunk-head who reminds me of the big cop from “Sweet Smell of Success” (Emile Meyer). He’ll break you in two.

* The Small-Time Weasly Hood who gives up concessions with every weasly, pitiful, squealy yelp. He looked like he was a man zombified by atomic poisoning.

* The Mentally-Challenged Stoogie Guy who breaks under pressure;everyone is his boss and can smack him around…even the newspaper hound. Stoogie looks like he didn’t have an STD treated in time; he breathes through his nose.

* The Over-The-Top Obsequious Waiter Man who is the best lookout man a crook ever had. He was a hyped up Marcel Dalio or Fritz Feld, but I found him very endearing. He’s the only one who can get away with ribbing a gangland boss…and live to tell the tale. Besides, he’s a swell –cook— uhmmmm...chef.

The Erudite Ex-Socially Acceptable-Now Corrupt-Philosopher Greek Chorus Guy whose bon mots ended every scene dissolve with a quip:

“Flynn, late as usual, but always reliable.”
“I think she’s jealous of that young man…good psychology.”
“Extraordinary. This stuff tastes exactly like it smells.”
“You have trouble on your plate now, Mrs. Grissom.”
“…We are reproved.”

I suspect the Doc was a back street abortionist on Carnaby Street for Britain’s high society ladies…and on the weekend, hooked up everyone else.

And then there are the LYDIES…who try their darnedest to be hard or soft-boiled dames (but they ain’t no Iris Adrian.

* The Chanteuse – She has a Rita Hayworth-ish look, but the song she was singing confused me…it had two different tempos in one song. I couldn’t get a hang of the melody. I couldn’t tap my feet to it.

* The Moll – Her acting was atrocious. (I haven’t seen a woman beat a man on his chest since the days of Pearl White) but what the heck…her hair looked lustrous. She made me think of Ann Harding a little.

* The Cigarette/Hat-Check Girl – Well, as hatcheck girls go…she outlived Mildred of “In A Lonely Place.” She kind of looked like Natalie Schaefer to me. She was in and out of the film and served as competition with the Chanteuse for Slim’s affections. I liked the way she said “Okay boyish.”

* Mrs. Grissom – WoW! What a lollapalooza SHE was. A man’s best friend may be his mother…but she could give Ma Jarrett a lesson or two. She bellows and yells and even gives a guy a beatdown to boot. Whew!! She’s one tough cookie…but only her son could keep her in place. She even channeled Edward G. Robinson in one moment ”…seeeeee?” I howled.

Oh...they should have shot the nightclub comedienne.

These "…Orchids” are pretty violent. Men were being shot at point blank range...clobbered with a chair... shoved to the ground..or bashed in the face with a bottle. (To see the bartender all bandaged up later in the film was kind of shocking...and showed great attention to continuity).

I loved the very fluid camera movment and plot twists...but I digress. All this talk has nothing to do with the real story...the love story between

THE GANGSTER AND THE LADY...WITH NO FIRST NAME
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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

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Ha ha! First of all, I love that you compared the over-the-top-obsequious-waiter-man to Fritz Feld AND Marcel Dalio, two of my very favorite actors. :D

I think that you really hit the nail on the head, everyone here is a "type" - a Clair Trevor type, or a Lee Tracy type. Unfortunately, thhe characterizations never go much deeper. "Get me a Jack LaRue type!" Oh, wait....actually, Jack was the only one playing a real role, in amongst all those "types" it made him really pop off the screen.

I can hardly wait to get to your description of "the Gangster and the Lydie"!
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Re: No Orchids for Miss Blandish (1948)

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It's a-comin' Jackaaaaaaaaaaay, though it won't be an earth-shattering post. But a little aside before I submit that post: Jack LaRue as a priest in "Captains Courageous"???
I'd have tried to rip his collar off right then and there at the altar. What a waste him being in the priesthood would be!!! Well...it would have only served to make me want him even more. Wanting what you can't have is a very powerful...
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