By Gary Deane
Him: “I’m shooting for the top. I want a wife who’s
willing to do anything to get there.”
Her: “I
think I know what you mean.”
For a time, fans of law-and-order
champion Mr. District Attorney had
their pick: an NBC radio program that aired 1939 to 1952; a DC crime comic that
went 67 issues, 1948 to 1959; and a tail-end television series on ABC that ran from
1952 to 1953. During the war years, the anti-crime crusader also was lionized in
a trio of Mr. District Attorney motion
pictures released by Republic, and later in a post-war follow-up from Columbia
Studios. The differences between the earlier and later productions showcase much
of what film noir is about – and what it’s not.
Mr. District Attorney (1941), the initial Republic studios release, starred
Stanley Ridges as intrepid D.A. Tom Winton and a young Dennis O’Keefe as his newly-minted
Assistant, Prince Cadwallader Jones. The well-meaning but hapless Jones is keen
to solve a stalled embezzlement case but finds himself running up against Terry
Parker (Florence Rice), a nosey newspaper journalist who knows a good story
when she sniffs one. But it’s Peter Lorre, in an appearance that’s perversely at
odds with any of the rest of the film, who’s the best reason to watch it.
Shortly after, came Mr. District Attorney in the Carter Case
(1941), with Paul Harvey as the D.A. and James Ellison and Virginia Gilmore in
the roles of Jones and Parker. This one is highlighted only by its surprise ending
and luminous lighting set-ups by cinematographer John Alton.
Next was Secrets of the Underground (1942), featuring Pierre Watkin as the District
Attorney and John Hubbard and Virginia Grey as the accidental partners-in-crime-fighting.
The moive has its minor rewards, including a timely script by Daniel Mainwaring (Out of the Past, 1947; The Big Steal, 1949; The Tall Target, 1951). Additional titles had been planned, but, in the end, Secrets of the Underground was
as far as the Republic series was to travel.
Though the original Mr. District Attorney radio play opted
for pure suspense, the Republic titles leaned more in the direction of the ‘mystery-comedy’
– a claptrap contrivance designed to offer ‘comic relief’ and let-up from the more serious matters at hand. But by the end of WWII, audiences were tiring of its stagy
bag of tricks: the bumbling heroes and fast-talking sidekicks (or just the opposite),
the usual double-takes, and the slapstick confusion. By the late
‘40’s, a flood of psychological thrillers and blood melodramas had largely swept
all this away, save for a few creaky detective series like The Thin Man, Boston Blackie, The Falcon, Bulldog Drummond or The Saint in their final appearances (crime-for-laughs
would survive as a moviegoing staple, but one increasingly better-fitted to the comedy).
Meantime, Columbia Studios decided
to have another crack at Mr. District Attorney. The new version would
star the venerable Adolphe Menjou as Craig Warren, D. A. as well as a more mature Dennis
O’Keefe as Steve Bennett, Warren’s case-hardened Assistant. The feisty female
journalist character– always ready to pitch in to help out – was tossed in
favor of a venomous spider woman (played with deadly conviction by Marguerite
Chapman) out for absolutely no one but herself. This more ominous turn was no big leap for Columbia, having had recent successes with darker offerings such as Gilda (1946), Framed (1947) and Dead
Reckoning (1947) and B titles like Night
Editor (1946).
That said, Columbia hedged its
bets with a nod to the spirit of the earlier titles. There’s Menjou, ever the Hollywood
dandy and stylized little-man with his waxed mustache and aggravated manner, whose
presence recalls a bygone era; also character
actor Michael O’Shea as Harrington, Warren’s quick-as-a-quip investigator, and
smiley-face Jeff Donnell as the office girl and blessed soul of patience. However,
the vestigial hokeyness doesn’t detract from Mr. District Attorney's essence as a gripping film noir.
With a screenplay by
Ian McLellan Hunter (who would later front for Dalton Trumbo until Hunter
himself was blacklisted), Mr. District
Attorney features a convoluted but well-anchored storyline. District
Attorney Warren is under the gun to bring down the courtly but cold-blooded
gangster, James Randolph (George Coulouris), who has the local rackets wrapped
up, along with a cadre of crooked business leaders and government officials. To
help build the case, Warren hires a former defense lawyer, Steve Bennett who’d
been serving as counsel to one of Randolph’s cronies but then quit both his
client and his law firm after discovering he’d been taken for a chump.
Keeping a nicely-mascaraed
eye out for Randolph’s interests is Marcia Manning (Marguerite Chapman), his glamourous
personal assistant. We learn soon enough though that Randolph wants her to be
more than simply the hired help. However, Manning wants to hear more from him
than just sweet nothings, reminding him, “To me, love is a luxury… You want me
to be romantic like the songs about living on love and pale moonlight...I know
how it works. My mother tried it and by the time she was 35 she was an old
woman left with nothing except pale
moonlight, and that’s not going to happen to me.”
In fact, a lot has already happened
to Our Miss Manning, including managing to beat a murder rap back in
Kansas City. Warren knows about this and figures that Manning might be the best and fastest
way to get to Randolph. Manning, conversely, wastes no time in finding her way to
Bennett and before long, she’s duped him into revealing information that sinks Warren’s
case. Warren suspects his wide-eyed boy has been played for a sucker and sends
Bennett out of the country on another investigation. He then brings in Manning
and tells her to lay off Bennett or his office might revisit her legal problems.
When Bennett returns and hears of this, he quits, only to later discover that
Manning dumped him while he was gone. Bennett is furious, but, now without a job, lets
Manning coax him into taking on some legal work for Randolph. However, as
the plot thickens and bodies pile up, Bennett realizes that it’s Manning who’s really
at the root of all evil and makes up his mind to do something about it.
Manning, of course, has other ideas.
The little-known Chapman grew
up as a small-town tomboy in Chatham, NY.
Affectionately called “Slugger” by her friends, the beautiful brunette was
encouraged by them later to try modeling. She went to New York and became a featured
John Powers Girl and after she’d been on the cover of enough magazines,
Hollywood came calling. Through 1940 to 1943, Chapman appeared in eighteen films,
albeit minor ones. She later moved up several rungs on the studio ladder and became
the female interest in several better Columbia features, including: Destroyer
(1943) with Edgar G. Robinson; Appointment
in Berlin (1943) opposite George Sanders; and Counter-Attack (1945) with Paul Muni. After the war, there were a
few more A features, notably Relentless
(1948), a well-received western with Robert Young. But from there on,
appearances became limited to supporting roles in movies and on television. By
the mid-1960s, she’d effectively retired from the screen to focus on stage
work.
None of which is to say that
Chapman couldn’t or shouldn’t have had a much bigger career in movies. The
actress at one time or another had been singled out by scribes for everything
from her “comeliness” to her versatility “spilling over”. However, her striking
beauty and versatility appeared to work just as much against her as for her in
that she was never able to establish a dominant screen personality. Like Ruth
Hussey or Barbara Hale to whom she shared a resemblance, Chapman didn’t easily
evince a strike-up-the-band sparkle, domesticated warmth, or relaxed sexuality.
Mr. District Attorney on the other hand takes advantage of what Chapman did
have: a sophisticated charm and self-possession free of overemphasis or bossiness. She’s a woman capable of living in a man’s world without looking for
concessions, including marriage, which would happen only if and when convenient.
Chapman also ups the ante as a femme fatale who never overplays her advantage. Like
the most memorable femmes of classic film noir, Manning is knowable, but, forever
and fatally, unreadable. Though Messrs. Mejou, O’Keefe, and Coulouris all give
it their best, the film belongs to Chapman.
Unfortunately, Mr. District Attorney wasn’t a movie of the size or sort that could deliver a breakthrough for any actor, no matter how
impressive the showing. It’s yet more unfortunate that there weren’t more
opportunities for Chapman to be on screen what she obviously was meant to be. Sometimes things work out and sometimes they don't. After decades out
of the business, she suddenly was first-call for the coveted role of ‘Old Rose’
Dason-Calvert in the 1997 James Cameron blockbuster, Titanic, but was prevented by ill-health from accepting. The part
went to Gloria Stuart, who will be remembered forever for it. Chapman died two
years later.
Mr. District Attorney also was graced by cinematographer Bert Glennon, a
confirmed but underappreciated visual stylist who was on camera for Juke Girl (1942), Shadow of a Woman (1946), The
Red House (1947), Ruthless
(1948), Red Light (1949) and the terrific
Crime Wave (1954). Glennon’s mastery
of the noir registry is on full display in Mr.
District Attorney, starting with the film’s shocking opening scene, which as
it turned out, would foreshadow the cold-blooded murder of its director, Robert
Sinclair twenty-three years later. With its rich noir visualizations, smartly-plotted
story, and industrious performances, Mr.
District Attorney is a film noir worth watching straight down the line.
Gary Deane
(A longer version of this article
appeared in NOIR CITY e-magazine).
