"How do you think she got down here? Anybody carry her? She walked, my friend. She was alive, alright. When I shot her, she fell down and she bled just like anybody else."
Lucille Ball, Maureen O'Hara, and Virginia Field in Dance, Girl, Dance (Dorothy Arzner, 1940)
Cast: Maureen O'Hara, Louis Hayward, Lucille Ball, Virginia Field, Ralph Bellamy, Maria Ouspenskaya, Mary Carlisle, Katharine Alexander, Edward Brophy, Walter Abel. Screenplay: Tess Slesinger, Frank Davis, based on a story by Vicki Baum. Cinematography: Russell Metty. Art direction: Van Nest Polglase, Alfred Herman. Film editing: Robert Wise. Music: Edward Ward.
Dorothy Arzner's film about chorus girls struggling to make lives for themselves in a milieu dominated by males and their gaze earned its place in the National Film Registry by being one of the few movies of the era to take the women's point of view seriously. It has its melodramatic excesses, but it steadily keeps its focus on the characters played by Lucille Ball and Maureen O'Hara instead of yielding time to its male leads, Louis Hayward and Ralph Bellamy.
It's no insult to anybody involved to suggest that Andre Previn’s title music for Gerald Mayer’s DIAL 1119 (1950, TCM, Apple TV+) is one of the best things in the picture. His percussive, jazz-tinged score sets the stage so perfectly you may wish he had gotten to do background music for the rest of the film. But in the long run Mayer made the right choice in going with only diegetic music. It heightens the suspense as escaped mental patient Marshall Thompson holds the patrons of a second-story bar hostage. DIAL 1119 is a tidy little thriller made on a surprisingly low budget for MGM and enhanced by some great camera work by Paul Vogel. Thompson is good casting in the lead. With his baby face, he’s much creepier than a more obvious heavy might have been, and he wisely underplays most of the time (wisely because when he finally overplays it’s not very convincing, which kills some of the tension). The rest of the cast may have been chosen because they fit the low budget, but some are very good indeed: William Conrad as a grumpy bartender named “Chuckles,” Leon Ames as a cheating husband, Argentina Brunetti as a passenger on Thompson’s bus, Sam Levene as the police psychiatrist Thompson is out to get and particularly Virginia Field as a lush. At times, she seems to be a lady of the evening coming on to the male customers, but that wouldn’t have been allowed in 1950, so when one man makes an offer, she laughs in his face, something Field did very well.