THE LOCKET: a Russian doll of a film

Why should I be describing a 1946 film noirish drama from RKO as a Russian doll?
Because just as one of those wooden painted icons opens to reveal another smaller doll inside which in turn opens to reveal yet another so is THE LOCKET constructed of a flashback within a flashback within a flashback.
What's most impressive is the way in which director John Brahm makes it all seem so effortless and un-confusing. Hollywood overdosed on the flashback as a storytelling technique in the 1940s and in some cases overused it to the point where it was almost impossible to figure out whether we were watching something happening in the present, the recent past, the distant past or somewhere inbetween.
THE LOCKET also plugs in to Hollywood's 40s fascination with psychoanalysis. This was the coming thing in medical science and had received it's highest profile attention to date with Alfred Hitchcock's 'Spellbound' released the year before.  And as with anything Hollywood got its hands on the idea was simplified to the point where any condition could be explained in 30 seconds or less.
The character in need of some analysing here is the beguilingly beautiful Nancy (Laraine Day), a seemingly vivacious and well adjusted young lady whose troubled past is gradually brought into focus thanks to the flashbacks narrated by the various men who have loved and lost her, Brian Aherne and a young, pre-paunchy Robert Mitchum among them. But are they telling the truth? Nancy's latest beau, the frankly too old for her Gene Raymond, doesn't want to believe what he's hearing on the morning of his marriage to her.

Aherne as Dr Harry Blair, a psychoanalyst and Nancy's former husband, acts as the narrator of Nancy's past, recounting it with a detached professional objectivity which is at odds with his personal feelings for her. Sure he's a doctor but can Raymond trust him? It doesn't help that Aherne plays the part like a man with a long, sharp stick firmly inserted in a place where the sun don't shine. As an actor he appears strangely out of place in this genre, and his palpable uncomfortableness in the role would seem to indicate he knows it. 
It's interesting to watch Laraine Day demonstrate that she's more than just a young and pretty face. Nancy is a character who is play acting for most of the time, presenting a front to the world without realising it. It's a challenging attitude and Day pulls it off convincingly. Not that it helped her much in her career. She made just 4 more films over the next 4 years before migrating to tv where, with few exceptions, she stayed for the next four decades.  
THE LOCKET's labelled as a film noir and I've described as film noirish because I'm not entirely convinced it fits comfortably into this category. There's undeniably a dark element to the story but it's not an entirely dark film and the style of the storytelling is closer to drama. Let's call it noirish drama and leave it at that!
Whatever you want to label it, THE LOCKET is definitely worth taking in. I'm not making any claims for it being one of the best movies of the 40s but it's certainly interesting and there's a delicious twist towards the end that you'll miss if you're not paying close attention.

WHAT A WAY TO GO! What a Crock!

WHAT A WAY TO GO! ranks as one of the great unsung bad blockbusters in Hollywood history. This is a truly terrible film on so many levels, from the bunch of big name stars with no talent for comedy to the lazily constructed sets, the terrible lighting, the downright dreary story, and the total lack of style.
This is a certified solid gold fiasco.

Shirley MacLaine is the glue holding this stodgy 1964 concoction together as Louisa May Foster, a small town girl with the King Midas touch.  Every man she falls in love with becomes incredibly successful and even more incredibly wealthy before dropping dead, leaving the distraught Louisa May an incredibly wealthy but unhappy widow.
This premise plays out no less than four times, each one less amusing and more drawn out than the one before. Quite how J Lee Thompson can justify his screen credit as director is beyond me given the ragbag collection of performances he elicits from his stars. Far from being directed they all appear to have been left to their own devices. MacLaine shrieks and wails her way through most of the story, Paul Newman mistakes overacting for comedy, Robert Mitchum sleepwalks through his part, while Dean Martin plays his character like a Las Vegas parody of Dean Martin on stage at The Sands. Gene Kelly is the only one who emerges with any shred of decency thanks to a song and dance number which bears faint traces of his great routines from his 40s and 50s musicals.
Interminable, leaden, misguided and just plain painful to watch, WHAT A WAY TO GO! is a masterclass in how to squander talent and twenty million dollars and produce a polished turd.