La carte forcée

A reporter (Walter Pidgeon) happens to go through a county in the countryside. He is pulled over by the cops and arrested--though he'd done nothing. Then, in court, he sees that one by one, innocent folks are being shaken down by a corrupt sheriff and a corrupt judge. So, he makes it his crusade to bring down these crooks. As he digs, Pidgeon sees that this organized crime runs deeper--these 'cops' help run illegal gambling and various vice operations! When he appeals to people higher up in the state government, people are reticent to do anything--after all, that county brings votes to the state party machine. What can be done? Eventually, Pidgeon's articles have an effect and John Hodiak is sent from the state prosecutor's office to investigate. But his case isn't easy--as the reporter has just disappeared and so has his file on the corrupt county.

Some time later, Pidgeon returns home--briefly. There's not much of an explanation where he was, he's ready to move to Detroit and he has no interest in following up on his articles on corruption. It's obvious he's scared and has no intention of continuing. Can Hodiak change his mind? He sure needs Pidgeon's help with the investigation.

All in all, an exceptional film--tough, exciting and well-acted. My only quibble, and it's a little one, is that the film is a tad preachy at the end. Still, it's a nice film--well worth seeing--especially since the cast was so capable. In addition to Hodiak and Pidgeon, the film has support from Audrey Totter (who plays a great dame), Thomas Gomez (who's almost always the heavy), Everett Sloan, Cameron Mitchell, Whit Bissell, Karl Malden and Frank Cady (Sam Drucker from "Green Acres")--a very impressive list. It was also cool seeing Burt Mustin playing the corrupt judge--the sort of role you wouldn't expect from this fun character actor.

Walter Pidgeon, John Hodiak, Tomas Gomez, Audrey Totter, Cameron Mitchell, Karl Malden and Everett Sloan all star in "The Sellout," a 1952 film. Pidgeon plays a well-respected newsman, Haven Allridge, who runs afoul of a corrupt sheriff (Gomez). Despite the fact that he and his department have been using violence and other illegal tactics unopposed because people are afraid, Allridge decides to take him down. He uses the power of the press to bring the matter to everyone's attention, and soon an indictment is called for. Since Allridge's son-in-law (Mitchell) works for the court, a special prosecutor (Hodiak) is brought in. Unfortunately, when it comes time for the indictment proceedings, everyone seems to have forgotten what they said previously.

This is an okay movie, although predictable, with good performances. It does point out that ethics aren't just for people who have nothing to lose, when it's easy. True ethics are for the tough times, when one is faced with huge losses.

Good cast.

1951, the Kefauver congressional committee on organized crime and corruption is making headlines, and MGM under new head Dore Schary is trying to make that famously big-budget studio relevant to news of the day. The trouble is that the so-called Tiffany of studios just doesn't have the same feel for gritty material as a Warner Bros. or an RKO. Too bad this film doesn't sustain the harrowing feel of the first 15 minutes, when prominent editor Allridge (Pidgeon) is brutalized after a minor traffic infraction by corrupt Sheriff Burke (Gomez). Allridge's ordeal has the feel of a "sudden nightmare" to it, as if he's been abruptly forced into a savage new world where the old civilized rules no longer apply. It's a backwater county run by the sheriff like a private fiefdom and a jailhouse where inmates rule once the cell door slams shut. I like the way we're shown the difficulties state prosecutor Johnson (Hodiak) encounters in trying to rid the county of Burke and his outlaw regime.

Still and all, the longer the movie lasts, the more momentum it loses, ending with a final 20 minutes of plodding courtroom procedure. There's still some suspense in the air (why did Allridge skip town), but the initial energy has long since dissipated. At least part of the problem lies with uninspired direction that can't sustain the early sense of tension and evil. Too bad noir maestros like Phil Karlson or Anthony Mann weren't running the show. Those reviewers contrasting this film with Karlson's similar Phenix City Story are right on target. Nonetheless, the movie does have its moments, along with a vibrant turn from the under- rated Audrey Totter who never seemed to get the recognition her talent deserved.

This was something of a frustrating film, as although peopled with solid actors of reasonable note, it gives much evidence of being a holdover from the early talkie days of B films that ran about 62 minutes and left miles of storyline on the cutting room floor or just not filmed at all. At 83 minutes, it didn't have to be this way, but the films jumps days and weeks, and important events and storylines are mentioned after they have taken place offscreen and almost as an afterthought. For example, at one point, Hodiak mentions that 43 of 55 witnesses have reneged on their statements and/or on their willingness to testify, but that 43 number comes out of the blue after we have seen only one witness express some trepidation.

I should also add that much in this story seems reflective of my own experience. When I was in the army (1963-1965) a decade after this film, and stationed in Western Maryland, when driving there from New York, we were picked up more than once by police for speeding, having a light out, whatever, and instructed to drive behind the police vehicle to one of several (what looked like) county stores that had a set up in the back where someone (probably a minor judge) seemed to sit all night, just waiting for the cops to bring in miscreants like ourselves so that he could fine us $15 or $20 before sending us on our way. And this is how they treated the U.S. military ($78.11 a month pay). I can't imagine how others might have been treated (but certainly not as badly as in this film, I hope).

Anyway, the performances are all solid. Pidgeon kind of disappears a bit less than halfway through the film, and from that point on the real stars seem to be Hodiak, Malden, Gomez, Sloane and the always-excellent Audrey Totter, until Pidgeon comes back in near the end. The final courtroom scene holds the interest, and both Hodiak and Hugh Sanders (as the good judge and in, given its relative brevity, probably the best role he ever had; he gets to make the longest speech in the film) do well in it, but I was surprised to see Karl Malden billed 7th or 8th considering that he had just won a Supporting Actor AA for STREETCAR and, quite honestly, his is one of the larger roles in the film. And Frank Cady has maybe his best screen role, far larger than in the same year's HIGH NOON. Cameron Mitchell, in one of his first films, also doesn't have much to do, but his character is pivotal to the story.

All in all, an enjoyable little crime drams with a lot of holes in it, saved by the performances.

MGM wandered out of its league when it made "The Sellout" and the result is a mildly entertaining thriller that doesn't have much tension. All the pieces are in place -- Walter Pidgeon as a crusading newspaper editor, John Hodiak as a government sleuth, Audrey Totter as the sexy pianist at a sleazy roadhouse. But whereas Warner Bros. would have given the tale a hard edge, it comes up sorta' soft in Metro's hands. Perhaps the best performances in the film go to the villains, led by Thomas Gomez as a brutal, corrupt sheriff and Everett Sloane as his smarmy mouthpiece. They're fine. But something's not quite right when the villains stroll off with the movie.