Gentleman from Dixie (1941) User Reviews

Same Old Same Old, But At Least Clarence Muse Sings

[boblipton · 5/10 · 20 August 2019]

Jack La Rue has had his murder sentenced commuted for good behavior. Actually, he never killed the man; that was done by someone he wants to look for. First, though, he wants to return to the old plantation, now owned by his sympathetic brother, Robert Kellard. His second wife, Marian Marsh, doesn't want a murderer in the house, so La Rue goes to work for them as a stable man. His niece, Mary Ruth, doesn't care, and her stepmother is always telling her to stop playing in the dirt. When the horse her father gave to Mary Ruth wins a race, I. Stanford Jolley wants to buy it. Kellard doesn't wish to but Miss Marsh insists.

And so forth and so forth. As is often the case, the best part of this movie is Clarence Muse, who plays a long-time employee, and who goes around singing spirituals and Stephen Foster songs, backed by the "Clarence Muse Singers." I never heard of them before, they don't have any other screen credits, and this is the only reference I can quickly find to them.

It's written by Fred Myton and directed by Albert Herman, two names that assure you that you aren't looking at an immortal classic. Still, it's a pleasant piece of sentimental nonsense that must have played well in the Whites-Only theaters down south.

An Uncle Remus tale of old fashioned life in the new south.

[mark.waltz · 5/10 · 28 November 2014]

They may not be picking cotton, but these "happy darkies" might as well be in this poverty row tale of life in the modern land of Dixie where a well respected white man lives his "Old Man River" type tale of trying to regain his life back after years in prison for a murder he didn't commit. Jack La Rue returns to his Southern home, only to find his younger brother Robert Kellard now widowed and re-married to the self-centered Marian Marsh. She makes her displeasure to stepdaughter Mary Ruth quite obvious and distaste for La Rue even more so. To keep a roof over his head and his eye on his calculating sister-in-law, La Rue agrees to work running the stables and keep his identity secret, all the while trying to find the whereabouts of the real guilty party and protect young Ms. Ruth from her evil stepmother.

Clarence Muse plays the only servant who recognizes La Rue, so the secret is safe, and as long as the other servants are singing, they are unaware of the problems going on behind the scenes in the old plantation house. Ms. Marsh takes up with the obviously sinister John Holland and manipulates her husband to trying to sell the grown horse that her stepdaughter has become quite attached to. While hokey in structure, the film does try to avoid the most obvious of stereotypes, although black housekeeper Lillian Randolph does wear a bandanna on her head and treats Ms. Ruth as if she was a young Scarlet O'Hara.

Songs like "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen" and "Camptown Races" are heard over the soundtrack, sung beautifully by Muse's choir. It is obvious that in the present day south, the blacks still working as paid servants would not be as happy as they are presented here to be. With civil rights only a decade away, this presentation of them as a community is totally far-fetched. Still, other than Marsh's snobbism, the servants are treated well, and Ms. Ruth and the lively Randolph have a loving relationship. It's not as melodramatic as some of the period dramas of the post civil war south, but overall, its theme is extremely dated and somewhat tiresome.

As for Marian Marsh, it is shocking to see her playing such a vile character. Her heroines of the 1930's were troubled but likable, and there is little to give her character here any sympathy. While she may not get the come-uppance that the audience may wish she gets, the one she does get is satisfying and almost profound. The relationship that stands out here is the one between Ms. Ruth and Jumping Jack, the colt that almost got destroyed.

Very disappointing murder-cum-horse-racing yarn

[JohnHowardReid · 4/10 · 7 January 2014]

Gentleman from Dixie (1941) certainly starts promisingly in the California State Prison with references to the "walking death" suffered by hero, Jack La Rue, who has been imprisoned for at least 15 years, framed for a murder he didn't commit. Despite the hero's claim, his impressive bearing (and even more impressive restraint), he receives no more than the minimal courtesies from the warden when his term finally expires. So Jack returns to his brother's horse farm in Southern California and peers through the window as his brother's child prodigy (played by Mary Ruth, on loan from M-G-M) bangs out Beethoven on the piano. And soon after, would you believe, all the so-called darkies around the place burst out in chorus after chorus of no-longer-in-copyright Stephen Foster melodies. Alas, none of the promise inherent in the innocent-man-imprisoned-for-15-years plot is realized. True, the real murderer is finally revealed and perfunctorily brought to justice, but not a word is said about compensation for our hero, let alone an apology. Instead, a lot of footage is taken up by Marian Marsh with her total antipathy to our hero and her overweening preference for the real killer (despite the fact that she's married to the ex-convict's brother). In all, the nonsensical plot earns a firm zero, despite the efforts of the players to lend it some believability. All the same, it's interesting to see what perennial villain Jack La Rue can do with a hero's role. The answer, very little! To sum up: Although it was certainly a novel idea to cast perennial villain, Jack La Rue, as the hero (and the beautiful Marian Marsh as a shrewish housewife), this casting doesn't work! And how come the title refers to "Dixie" when all the action in the movie (including that preceding the actual opening scene) is all set in Southern California? Available on a very good Alpha DVD.

FOOTNOTES: Race announcer, Joe Hernandez, is actually billed as "the Voice of Santa Anita". Add to the credits: Wardrobe: James Wade; production aide: Edward Klein; production manager: Sam Wade; technical director ("B" movie talk for the guy who makes over already existing sets): Charles Clague. The producer, as IMDb notes, was Edward Finney.