Spencer Interviews Katharine

The sudden death of American war hero and businessman Robert Forrest throws the country into a tailspin. Steven O'Malley (Spencer Tracy), a journalist who recently returned from war-torn Europe, is one of Forrest's many admirers, and has decided to write a book about the great man.  He seeks the assistance of Forrest's wife, Christine (Katharine Hepburn); she initially tries to keep her distance, then consents to assist in the biography.  Steven, however, finds her reticence concerning as she attempts to be the Keeper of the Flame (1942).

As we enter the world of Keeper of the Flame, it seems we are being introduced to a mystery - who killed Robert Forrest? In a sense we are in the middle of a mystery, but it isn’t the one we think it is. The tension of the story is enhanced by the excellent performances throughout the film, ably led by the two leads. The chemistry between Tracy and Hepburn is apparent in the film, and is a contributor to the power of the movie  

Over the objections of screenwriter Donald Ogden Stewart, Ms. Hepburn insisted on changes to the script that strengthened the romance between Christine and Steven (TCM article). This sometimes gives the film a feeling of Rebecca-ish gloom, with the imposing Forrest estate as the stand-in for Manderley. It also gives more opportunity for Tracy and Hepburn to interact, which, frankly, is one of the main pleasures of the film.  One looks forward to seeing them spar.

Audrey Christie is excellent as Steven's friend and fellow reporter, Jane Harding.  The part is relatively small but memorable.  This was Ms. Christie's first film, and her casting was recommended by Katharine Hepburn (AFI Catalog).  Ms. Christie had been appearing on Broadway since 1933, and Ms. Hepburn and Ms. Christie would appear together in the 1942 production of Without Love (which Ms. Hepburn brought to the screen in 1945). Audrey Christie would continue on Broadway, film and television until 1982. She's probably most remembered today for her performance as Mrs. Loomis (Natalie Wood's mother) in Splendor in the Grass (1961). Married once, with one son, Ms. Christie died in 1989 (three years after her husband) of emphysema. 

We were not as impressed with Richard Whorf, Robert Forrest's personal secretary Clive Kerndon. Mr. Whorf plays the character as a fanatic, yet the information that we learn about him is that he is a tool of more powerful men.  That his fanaticism is telegraphed the minute we meet Kerndon is unfortunate; a gradual building of suspicion towards the character might have been more effective. As an aside, the same year he appeared in this film, he was also in Yankee Doodle Dandy as Sam Harris.

There are so many good performances in the film, it's hard to go into detail in this small space. But, mention should be made of Howard da Silva as Jason Rickards, Forrest's surly gatekeeper and fellow war veteran. Though we get no details about his life, we quickly realize that he is perhaps the person who knew Forrest the best. 

Margaret Wycherly has a small part as Forrest's insane mother. Stephen McNally (here listed as Horace) is fellow reporter Freddie Ridges, who has eyes for Jane Harding. Forrest Tucker plays Christine cousin Geoffrey Midford, who might be involved in Forrest's death. Darryl Hickman is guilt-ridden Jeb Rickards, who holds himself responsible for Forrest's death.  And we can't forget to mention Donald Meek as innkeeper Mr. Arbuthnot and Percy Kilbride as cabbie Orion Peabody. 

The production design is a very powerful element in the film. As we mentioned before, the house is almost oppressive in its elegance. The windowless stone fort that Forrest used as an office signals the sinister nature of his activities. The portrait of Forrest dominates the house, yet upon his death, no photos are included in the newspapers.  Our only image is a stylized painting of the great man.

Keeper of the Flame received an enthusiastic review by Bosley Crowther in New York Times, calling it "a courageous and timely drama which touches frankly upon a phase of American life that is most serious and pertinent today."  It opened at Radio City Music Hall, and was held over for several weeks, but ultimately it was not a top grosser for MGM (Variety), and is considered the least effective of the Tracy/Hepburn film. Perhaps the darkness was too much for people. 

In the final analysis, this is a good film that is discussing a still (sadly) timely issue. It may be a bit preachy at times, but tells its story well. Here's a trailer:

William Cheats

Crane Stewart (Charles D. Brown), the Night Editor (1946) of the New York Star, attempts to educate one of his reporters by relating the story of Police Lt. Tony Cochrane (William Gargan), an allegedly happily married man who is having an affair with socialite Jill Merrill (Janis Carter). Wracked with guilt, Tony meets Jill for a rendezvous, and tells her he is ending their relationship. As she woos him back to her, they witness a murder. Tony is now in a quandary of indecision - if he tells his superiors, his affair will become public; keep it quiet and the murderer gets away.

As in Framed (1947), the audience is aware that Jill Merrill is trouble from the minute they see her. Ms. Carter has a way of making her face hard as a rock, which instantly displays the character's distasteful nature - in his Noir Alley intro, Eddie Muller called her "feral". The problem is that one wonders what on earth Tony would see in this horrible woman?  Within minutes of her introduction, we find out what a heartless, callous  excuse for a human being this creature is.  She hasn't got any redeeming qualities, and while she is pretty enough, she could chew nails.

As a result William Gargan seems almost passive as the hapless police detective. He keeps attempting to break up with his mistress, and then immediately is back pawing her.  Tony is horrified by Jill's behavior, but expects her suddenly develop morals. She doesn't, of course (if anything, she becomes worse), and he is faced with letting an innocent man die, or confessing his own complicity in the murder.  

There are a number of interesting minor characters in the film, the best of which is Paul E. Burns as Police Lt. Ole Strom.  Mr. Burns gives a very subtle performance as a fellow police officer who senses what is going on, but decides to waits for Tony to see the error of his ways. He knows Tony well enough to realize he will come to his senses, and is the conscience of the film.  Between 1930 and his death in 1967  (at the age of 86), Mr. Burns amassed 259 film and television credits (as well as seven Broadway plays). His final role was that of the bum who gets Robert Redford's coat in Washington Square Park in Barefoot in the Park.

Jeff Donnell is good as Tony's wife, Martha. It's pretty clear from the start that she is aware that her husband is straying, but is patiently waiting for him to see the error of his ways. In later years, she, Janis Carter, and Ann Savage would live close to one another in New York City, becoming best friends (Eddie Muller's outro on Noir Alley).  The Cochrane's film son, Doc is played by Michael Chapin, the brother of Lauren Chapin (of Father Knows Best fame).

Though the film had the working title Inside Story (AFI Catalog), it was intended to be the first of a series of Night Editor movies, reminiscent of the radio series that inspired the film (Columbia Pictures Movie Series, 1926-1955: The Harry Cohn Years by Gene Blottner). The box office was not good enough for the series idea to continue.

In the end, we enjoyed the film; as Mr. Muller points out, it is able to get away with a lot of weirdness that A films would never be permitted.  We'll leave you with a clip from the film:

Has Pat Cracked Up?

George Steele (Pat O'Brien) assaults a police officer trying to get into the Manhattan Museum, where George works.  George is confused, and says he was in a train accident.  But Lieutenant Cochrane (Wallace Ford) from the police detective unit assures him there have been no train accidents in over seven months.  Is George about to Crack-Up (1946)?

Pat O'Brien gives a good performance as a war veteran who genuinely believes he was involved in a train wreck, but can't prove it.  If there is one problem with his portrayal it is that Mr. O’Brien is obviously too old (he was 47 when the picture was released) for the part he is playing. That aside, you do believe him both as a man being driven to the edges of sanity, as well as an intellectual with a deep interest and knowledge of art history. Mr. O'Brien's did only one other film noir, but he makes the most of it in this outing (TCM article).

He's well matched with Claire Trevor (Terry Cordell), herself a veteran of films noir.  She'd already done one notable noir - Murder, My Sweet (1944), and would win an Oscar for her performance in Key Largo (1948) two years after our film. It's a shame she doesn't have more screen time, but when she does appear, either working with Mr. O'Brien as his love interest, or with Herbert Marshall (Traybin), she takes command of the screen.

Though Herbert Marshall's part is small, he is used to good effect. You are never quite sure of the reliability of the character. Ray Collins (Dr. Lowell) is also in the same position.  By keeping the characters ambiguous, the audience is kept engaged in the action.

One small oddity in the film comes at the beginning. During an art lecture given by George Steele to a group of museum donors, Steele compares an old Master to a modern painting (which bears a passing resemblance to Dali), and trashes the modern painting. He is interrupted by an angry man in the audience; the man speaks with a distinct foreign accent and is nearly hysterical in his passion for the modern piece. It's an odd insert into the movie. As Derek Sculthorpe points out in his book on Claire Trevor (Claire Trevor:The Life and Films of the Queen of Noir), the screenplay seems to be linking modern art to radicalism - an acknowledgement to the increasing Red scare?

Based on the story Madman's Holiday by Fredric Brown, the film was not well received; Bosley Crowther's New York Times review found him "overwhelmed by [the film's] inadequacies." Regardless, in December 1946 Lux Radio Theatre did a production with Pat O'Brien and Lynn Bari. (AFI catalog).

While this is by no means a perfect movie, it certainly is worth a viewing, if only to see this very good cast work together.  We'll leave you with a trailer: