A Descarada

Rather like her one-time co-star Marilyn Monroe, Jane Russell, it seemed to me, was often put to work in racy movies requiring her to be sexy and regularly disrobe. So it is here in Raoul Walsh's lurid melodrama set in Honolulu right at the time of the Pearl Harbour attack by the Japanese.

How her title character got there is via San Francisco where her thinly-disguised call-girl activities attract a police ban and set her on a boat trip to Hawaii, on board which she encounters fellow-passenger Richard Egan, a successful writer. They have a fling and Egan's Jim Blair lends her some money until she gets started. Soon afterwards he learns she's effectively a prostitute and she that he's engaged raptor another woman,

As their relationship ebbs and flows, the bombing takes place unsurprisingly causing a major panic and the film ends up with one of those cop-out endings which looks suspiciously like it was dreamed up in response to exit-cards handed out to preview audiences.

Russell has to pretty much carry the whole film by herself and is rarely off screen. Indeed director Walsh sets the up the whole movie in the first shot when he sets her up walking away from the camera before abruptly turning around and facing down the viewer. She gets strong support from a blonde Agnes Moorhead as the brothel's tough-minded madam and Michael Pate as Moorhead's sadistic enforcer, just as happy bullying women as knocking out non-paying clients. I also thought that Egan did well in a tricky part as the principled writer-turned-soldier torn between his attraction for his clean-living society girl-friend and Russell's more carnal charms.

For me the story took a lot of believing and I had an especially hard time accepting the depicted durability of Russell and Egan's affair, but filmed in rich Deluxe colour and making good use of location shooting, this almost proto-feminist movie on adult subject matter, for all its compromises within its storyline and characters, was another of those contemporary Hollywood films pushing the envelope right under the censor's nose.

Jane Russell may be famous for singing in musical comedies, but she did get her start in a drama, and with The Revolt of Mamie Stover, she reminds the audience she's able to hold her own in that genre. She starts the movie literally getting escorted out of town by the police, forced to leave San Francisco because "her kind" is causing too much trouble. With the censorship board still in full force in 1956, it's amazing such a blatant show of prostitution made it into the movie.

Jane hops a boat to Honolulu, and it isn't long before she gets a job as a "hostess" in a dance club, run by the tough Agnes Moorehead. Part of what I really liked about this movie was the lack of the "hooker with a heart of gold" theme in Jane's character, or in any of the other girls in the club. Jane's primary motivation is money so she can return to her hometown and show everyone she made good, and she doesn't care how she earns it. Even when Richard Egan falls for her and asks her to give up her job, she can't do it. Jane has caught too many bad breaks to trust one man to make everything alright. She may make shrewd decisions, but you understand why she makes them.

If you liked From Here to Eternity, you'll love The Revolt of Mamie Stover. It's got nice music from Hugo Friedhofer, a solid performance from the beautiful Jane Russell, and plenty of scenes that show off her legs. The romance isn't exactly traditional, but it's sweet in its own way and just might cause a lump in your throat. Give it a watch!

Raoul Walsh directs Jane Russell in an adaptation of William Bradford Huie's sexy novel about a brunette bombshell of ill-repute who leaves San Francisco for Honolulu in 1941 and falls into successful career as a dance-hall hostess. The heroine, mercenary and not above some cunning ruthlessness, is an interesting creation, and Russell does her justice. While her wisecracks and general air of condescension are unlikely ingredients for a woman who makes her fortune as a quasi-prostitute, Russell has the hard, salty armor for a role like this. Playing star-crossed lovers with wealthy novelist Richard Egan, Jane is nearly all business, and her witticisms are a hoot. Unfortunately, 1956 was too early for Hollywood to begin revealing the layers of the wanton female mind, and the picture seems too timid, too clean and luxurious as a result. Strictly as a big studio soaper, it has its pleasures. **1/2 from ****

This one came out when my cinema-going was pretty well supervised by my parents who, had they known the subject matter, would not have approved of my going to see it. So it wasn't until years later that I caught it on a TV broadcast. I'd missed the credit titles but it wasn't long before I recognized the distinctive style of the musical scorer, the incredibly prolific Hugo Friedhofer. Check out his credits on the IMDb site dedicated to him and you'll be amazed at the number of projects on which he worked, both credited and uncredited. This movie focussed on a love story with a fairly heavy emphasis on its sexual aspect, discreetly cleaned up for the presumably conservative audiences of the mid-Fifties. But Hugo's music leaves no doubt as to what's going on but isn't being graphically depicted. Twentieth produced and released a lot of product around that time that took full advantage of CinemaScope and color, as well as their own system of multi-track stereophonic sound. With the locations used for this one, it would be a treat to see a theatrical presentation of this film, despite its flaws. It's a genuine artifact of what the movie moguls foisted on the adult audiences of the day. And besides Jane Russell in a role especially tailored to her, ahem!, talents, it's got Agnes Moorehead, who always added a special frisson to every role she played.

I'm not revolting when it comes to enjoying Mamie Stover. The GIs in 1940s Hawaii enjoyed her and so do I. OK, it's not even close to a cinematic masterpiece, but it's worth a gander on a rainy Sunday afternoon when the hubby has on his football. It has stunning Hawaiian locations, a fun if melodramatic script and 20th Century Fox gave it gorgeous Technicolor. It must have had studio head Buddy Adler's blessing because he took producer's credit. If you're a Jane Russell fan, forget "The Outlaw" and "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" and "Underwater." The Russell you see here is smoldering...! She plays a down-on-her luck woman run out of San Francisco who lands on Oahu where she becomes a... a... a... dancehall hostess. (If they redid Mamie Stover today, it'd have a whole different look.) She makes lots of money and thumbs her pretty nose at her detractors. Maybe because she's called Flaming Mamie, Russell dyed her dark tresses to a shimmering red and natural redhead Agnes Moorehead, owner of the gin joint where Mamie works, has become a blonde. Aggie never made a film that she didn't elevate to a higher level. Michael Pate is wonderfully menacing as the gin joint bouncer/thug. Love interest Richard Egan is too bland and lovely Joan Leslie is wasted in a nothing supporting role. Tough-guy director Raoul Walsh, who had just finished directing tough-girl Russell in "The Tall Men," knew how to best display her acting chops and sultry good looks. Mmmmmm, whatever Mamie wants...