Pat O'Brien, to my way of thinking, was always an interesting actor. He was one of that breed of Thirties men who almost blasted self-confidence. He was fast-talking, always ready with a quick comeback and a one-two punch. He was hard to deflate. Think of others such as Chester Morris, Lee Tracy and Lloyd Nolan. O'Brien played up the Irish charm like a poster. Unlike those others, O'Brien made it to the big time in the Thirties. He was great friends with James Cagney and starred with Cagney in nine films. But with opportunities to be a leading man, O'Brien just sucked the air away from anyone else in the room. He was dynamic to a fault, in my view. When he tried to do comedy line reading, he usually came across as emphatic and irritable. When he was playing tough, he could come across as emphatic and unmovable.
With Slightly Honorable, a 1940 film directed by Tay Garnett, O'Brien plays John Webb, a strong-willed, fast-talking lawyer who is determined to bring down Victor Cushing (Edward Arnold), the leader of a corrupt political machine, a man responsible for rigging highway construction bids and using shoddy materials. Even the district attorney is part of Cushing's operation. Webb's only helper is his law associate, Russ Sampson (Broderick Crawford). There is the attempted corruption of an 18-year-old singer, two murders by dagger and two attempted murders, and a tense political debate in the state capitol where we learn how much pressure it takes to crumble second-rate concrete. There's even a climactic scene at night in a foggy, isolated cemetery, with old tombstones being read by flashlight and a thrown dagger coming very close to permanently ending Webb's law practice.
And this is a comedy...or, at least, an attempt at a comedy mystery. The background music is jaunty. The repartee is quick and sometimes witty (and sometimes awful: "Well," says Webb, "it looks like the good old frameroo."); the 18-year-old lamb chop is cute, ditzy and dumb; there's a souse on a barroom floor and a black elevator attendant who roles his eyes and does shuffle steps. Eve Arden even shows up as Miss Ater, Webb's ironic secretary.
The result teeters close to being a mess, but a fast-moving one. O'Brien, with his high- energy line delivery and no nonsense style, dominates the proceedings. Even Edward Arnold, smooth, avuncular and good-humored as Mr. Big, isn't able to steal any scenes from O'Brien. Ruth Terry as Ann Seymour, the young singer who wants to be John Webb's girl friend, is fine delivering a song and dance, but doing young and ditzy she sounds like a motor mouth Shirley Temple on amphetamines. She survives the plot and manages to win Webb, but after a while I started hoping she'd be one of the victims. Broderick Crawford does a fine job as Webb's partner, younger, not as sharp but ready to stand up and be counted.
There are two problems with Slightly Honorable. The first is that as a leading man Pat O'Brien can get tiresome. The second is that Tay Garnett couldn't make up his mind whether he was directing a comedy or a crime drama. The movie is often fun to watch but it keeps veering from one style to the other. It's hard to believe that a few years later Garnett would direct one of the most satisfying, well-made and depressing crime noirs ever filmed, The Postman Always Rings
With Slightly Honorable, a 1940 film directed by Tay Garnett, O'Brien plays John Webb, a strong-willed, fast-talking lawyer who is determined to bring down Victor Cushing (Edward Arnold), the leader of a corrupt political machine, a man responsible for rigging highway construction bids and using shoddy materials. Even the district attorney is part of Cushing's operation. Webb's only helper is his law associate, Russ Sampson (Broderick Crawford). There is the attempted corruption of an 18-year-old singer, two murders by dagger and two attempted murders, and a tense political debate in the state capitol where we learn how much pressure it takes to crumble second-rate concrete. There's even a climactic scene at night in a foggy, isolated cemetery, with old tombstones being read by flashlight and a thrown dagger coming very close to permanently ending Webb's law practice.
And this is a comedy...or, at least, an attempt at a comedy mystery. The background music is jaunty. The repartee is quick and sometimes witty (and sometimes awful: "Well," says Webb, "it looks like the good old frameroo."); the 18-year-old lamb chop is cute, ditzy and dumb; there's a souse on a barroom floor and a black elevator attendant who roles his eyes and does shuffle steps. Eve Arden even shows up as Miss Ater, Webb's ironic secretary.
The result teeters close to being a mess, but a fast-moving one. O'Brien, with his high- energy line delivery and no nonsense style, dominates the proceedings. Even Edward Arnold, smooth, avuncular and good-humored as Mr. Big, isn't able to steal any scenes from O'Brien. Ruth Terry as Ann Seymour, the young singer who wants to be John Webb's girl friend, is fine delivering a song and dance, but doing young and ditzy she sounds like a motor mouth Shirley Temple on amphetamines. She survives the plot and manages to win Webb, but after a while I started hoping she'd be one of the victims. Broderick Crawford does a fine job as Webb's partner, younger, not as sharp but ready to stand up and be counted.
There are two problems with Slightly Honorable. The first is that as a leading man Pat O'Brien can get tiresome. The second is that Tay Garnett couldn't make up his mind whether he was directing a comedy or a crime drama. The movie is often fun to watch but it keeps veering from one style to the other. It's hard to believe that a few years later Garnett would direct one of the most satisfying, well-made and depressing crime noirs ever filmed, The Postman Always Rings