City Across the River

Not only have I seen this movie but I also saw it being filmed -The location where it was shot was the Williamsburgh section of Brooklyn NY - The picture was an adaptation of popular book of the time titled "The Amboy Dukes". Amboy Street was actually located in the Brownsville section of Brooklyn. I guess the filmmakers didn't think Brownsville was seedy enough so they shot all exterior shots in Williamsburgh. Ironically my family lived in Brownsville before moving to Williamsburgh so you can see how the family fortunes were progressing. My mother had owned a candy store on Pennsylvania Ave. right across the street from Thomas Jefferson High School in Brownsville in the early 1940"s . The movie was shot around the corner from where I lived in Williamsburgh. I recall seeing some of the "gang" sitting in a small panel truck waiting for the set-up to be completed. Sitting there was Tony Curtis. I recall a crowd shot being filmed on Havemyer Street one night. The block was brightly lighted and I remember thinking that they needed an awful lot of light to film. When I actually saw the finished picture this scene was a day time sequence. What did I know. The film crew also placed a billboard on the building at the corner of South 2nd St. (where I lived) and Havemyer Street. "Happy Times Poolhall" it flashed. That billboard was still there months after filming but it reminded me of our brief connection with Hollywood every time I saw it. I sure would like to see this picture come out on DVD so I could constantly play it and see the "old neighborhood".

City Across the River is a 1949 film from Universal about juvenile delinquency. We are treated first to a lecture about it by newspaper columnist Drew Pearson. He appears at the beginning of the film and has a voiceover at the end.

This was Tony Curtis' first credited appearance. He played Mitch under his original billing of Anthony Curtis. He was first discovered by fans while dancing, uncredited, with Yvonne de Carlo in Criss Cross.

The story concerns a Brooklyn neighborhood gang, The Dukes. They're tough kids who take occasional jobs from goombas where they beat someone up, carry handmade guns, go to trade school and can be difficult with teachers.

On the other side is the community center, run by Stan Albert (Stephen McNally), who knows the kids and tries to get them involved in things like basketball. Frankie (Peter Fernandez) is basically a good kid who has been involved with the center, but has fallen in with the Dukes.

His hard-working parents (Thelma Ritter and Luis van Rooten) want to get out of the neighborhood. Frankie's father decides to give up his dream of a grocery store in a better area and instead use their savings to purchase a house. However, a hospital bill takes that money.

The Dukes get into big trouble with a teacher, Mr. Bannon (Robert Osterloh). He demands to see the Dukes' parents. Frankie and Benny (Al Ramsen) try later to reason with him, Benny's zip gun goes off, killing Bannon.

The cops (Jeff Corey and Al Eben) know Frankie was involved, but he won't talk.

A depressing film in a way - even though it was 70 years ago, people still work hard to attempt to better themselves, and it remains difficult. We still have bored, disenfranchised kids everywhere. Dismal.

The actors are very good. Curtis has a small part, but he makes a perfect juvenile. The rest of the gang - those mentioned, plus Joshua Shelley, Richard Jaeckel, Mickey Knox, and Joe Turkel.

The production values aren't as high as other films focusing on juveniles, but the realistic, gritty presentation is right for the subject matter. Maxwell Shane did an effective directing job. Someone commented parts of the area looked like postwar Berlin - true.

While the noir cycle sensed, in its oblique way, most of the tremors affecting America in the post-war years, one subject that remains conspicuous in its absence is juvenile delinquency. Though alienated youth cropped up now and again – in The Big Night, in Moonrise, in Talk About A Stranger and even, arguably, in The Window – they were viewed as individual cases, not as a social phenomenon. (It wasn't until the cycle had largely petered out that such films as The Blackboard Jungle and The Wild One emerged in the mid-1950s.)

One exception was City Across The River, based on Irving Shulman's novel The Amboy Dukes. Though noirish in its look and urban setting, it's probably safe to call it a social-message movie (as was Nicholas Ray's Knock On Any Door, of the same year). It takes us to the slums of Brooklyn at a time when slums were slums and when conventional wisdom held that the root of juvenile delinquency was the turn-of-the-century tenements themselves – the physical plant, not the inculturated attitudes that perpetuate the culture of poverty and crime.

Peter Fernandez plays the central character of the story, a teen-ager whose parents work holidays and double-shifts to make ends meet (his mom is Thelma Ritter). But he hangs around with members of a `club' called The Dukes (among them `Anthony' Curtis), whose older members seem to be rising lieutenants in the world of petty crime. Of course, in accordance with the official idiom of the times, the toughs caper and cavort like The Dead End Kids, and the worst epithet they hurl at one another is `you crumb.'

Fernandez and friend confront a shop teacher who's responsible for their suspension and accidentally kill him with one of the zip-guns that seem to be the main enterprise of the school's industrial-arts program. In fear and panic, they not only raise suspicion but burn most of their bridges behind them. The movie ends unsentimentally – even harshly.

The task of directing fell to the unlikely Maxwell Shane, whose most polished credits in the noir cycle are Fear in The Night and its remake Nightmare, oneiric cheapies that created a fantasy world. Yet he does surprisingly effective work in City Across the River, putting together a plausible neighborhood of vegetable peddlers, candy shops and pool halls. Despite the dated and bowdlerized street argot, the movie stays involving and humane without retreating into cliche (Fernandez' fall isn't assigned an easy scapegoat) or crocodile tears.

I can't remember exactly when I saw "City Across the River" but it was an awfully long time ago on television. But when "Saturday Night Fever" came out with its good guy-bad guy bands of friends who were sometimes dancing and sometimes raiding other gangs and it's last scene on the bridge, I thought, "This is a remake of 'City Across the River.'" We see the main characters of "City Across the River" as high students in a Brooklyn high school taking an industrial arts class. When they get a bit rowdy, the frustrated "shop" teacher yells, "I want it quiet!" One of the students sarcastically calls out in his Brooklyn accent, "Hey! Teach wants it quiet!" Another joins in, "Yeah! Teach wants it quiet!" Within a few seconds each in the entire classroom of students is banging on his shop project with a tool while chanting, "And a one and a two and a Teach wants it quiet. And a one and a two and a Teach wants it quiet!" as they march/dance in a circle around the shop tables. The high school principal arrives, demands the identity of the two ring leaders of this riot, and suspends them. Neither is to return without a parent. The two culprits approach the shop teacher after school and try to effect a reconciliation. "Come on. Gimme a break, would ya? My faddah's in jail and my muddah's gotta woik!" "Yeah, mine too. Give us a break, would ya?" When the shop teacher says it is out of his hands, the two students pull out a zip gun to threaten him. The zip gun goes off and Teach is dead. This is just one of a collection of problems Our Gang has as they are Staying Alive in Brooklyn. And the dance party hasn't even started yet.

I lived in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn, NY and saw "City Across the River" after reading "The Amboy Dukes" when I was 13 years old, a very impressionable age. Tony Curtis was the rage and all the boys started combing their hair with the "Curtis look." At the time it seemed as if all of my contemporaries read the book, much like "God's Little Acre." The former because it described our lives in Brooklyn and the latter because of the "sexual" passages contained therein. It was a time of pegged pants, "ducks-ass" hairdos ala Curtis, stick and punch ball, athletic clubs, going to the 12 cent movies Saturdays at 12 o'clock to see a double feature, cartoons, the "chapter" (weekly serial), not getting caught with your feet on the tops of seats in front by the omnipresent white dressed matron, street gangs, zip guns and our beloved Brooklyn Dodgers. Immediately after seeing the movie, "the neighborhood" boys, from ages 13 to 16, vicariously adopted the nicknames of the characters in the movie according to their own personalities. As I recall, names were Crazy Shack, Bull Benson, etc. One of the things that sticks in my mind was the way the neighborhood kids, in order to show their machismo as depicted in the movie, would gather on street corners and lift the metal bus stop stands as dumb bell weights, with one arm and then the other. It was a great time and television was only seen if you looked in the window of the bar and grill around the corner on Flatbush Avenue and Winthrop Street.