Alternate titles: Do You Think the Black Guy Will Survive Till the End?

POSITIVES:
Ingrid Goude (Miss Universe 1956), and her appalling Swedish accent.
Ongoing alcohol abuse—good role model for the kids.
Crisp pace and running time (69 mins).
One genuinely jump-off-the-couch scary moment! (Really).
Inventive and unexpected climax.
Hilarious last line.
Laugh-inducing special effects.

NEGATIVES:
Laugh-inducing special effects (see “Positives”).

On 22 October 1903, a true comedy legend was born. While few would recognize him by his given name—Jerome Lester—millions recognized the sheer creative genius that was Curly Howard. Yes, Curly Howard, the third (and perhaps best loved) Stooge. The brother to Moe, and Shemp, and as part of the original Columbia short subject brigade, a man who brought mirth to multiple generations of comedy fans. But he didn’t start out as part of the act. While his brothers hooked up with partner Larry Fine and “leader” Ted Healy for several tours of vaudeville, “Babe” (as he was known to friends) pursued a career as a humorous conductor. When Shemp tired of Healy’s abuse and drinking, he left to take other offers. Moe suggested Curly step in, on one condition. He had to shave his full head of flowing red hair. Since he considered himself quite the ladies man (and he was), Curly was crushed.

Still, upon his debut with the trio, he quickly became its most iconic member. With a collection of classic mannerisms, malapropisms, and mugging, he soon symbolized the Stooges’ sensibility. Moe may have been the Mean One, and Larry and Laid Back One, but Curly was the Cut-up. He was the punchline to every joke, the rimshot to every pie in the face. Up until his untimely death from poor health at age 48, he was the center of attention, though he was far from happy. Still, the legacy he left behind has become a beacon to a long forgotten time of face slaps, eye gouges, and head clunks. In this regard, we present the Top 10 Three Stooge Shorts—Curly Edition—of All Time. Of course, there’s a caveat. This is a very personal list. After all, comedy is a very personal thing. Also, we’re concentrating on Curly, not the Stooges or shorts overall. And finally, the fact remains that you could easily do a Top 20… or 30… or 50 Curly overview (he co-starred in 98 of the timeless two reelers, after all) and still leave out something legitimate.

It’s been Tyler Perry’s problem his entire career. No matter how hard he tries, no matter how far his influence can exceed already established expectations, he still has a near impossible time tapping into the mainstream. Not in all mediums, mind you. Just films. After all, his TV series tend to defy industry precepts to pull in big numbers across the board, and his personal appearances and stage plays still draw huge numbers. But if you look closely at his work in film, you see a ceiling, a limited reach if you will. Before he became a phenomenon, long before he told every angry black woman to diary their dog-like mates, he was viewed as a niche artist serving a decided niche demo. Put another way, he was an known urban quantity serving an ignored ethnic audience eager to support him. Limited appeal. Limited legs beyond.

Of course, no one outside the pundits really cares/cared. As long as he could maintain minimal budgets ($5 to $20 million) and three to four times the return upon release, he was golden. He was sainted. He was the most powerful and profitable man in Hollywood. But no artist works in a vacuum. They want their work seen by as many people as possible. For Perry, that meant reaching out beyond the decidedly African American segment of the population that prefers his work. It means finding an ancillary series or franchise that, while never taking away from his core audience, would expand his already obvious influence. The answer, it seemed, was James Patterson’s character, Alex Cross.

At RKO, Nicholas Ray directed these women’s pictures about unscrupulous schemers who temporarily derail other women’s romances. Warner Archive has released them with a Film Noir label, which is hardly correct, although they sound like they might pass for it in a chiaroscuro’d room. A Woman’s Secret does indeed adopt such expressionist gorgeousness in an early flashback in which Maureen O’Hara takes credit for shooting her protegé Gloria Grahame, but that moment of heightened style is explained by the falseness of the events being depicted.

As produced and written by Herman J. Mankiewicz (Citizen Kane) from a novel by Vicki Baum, this is another movie that uses multiple flashbacks to explore the history of someone famous, in this case a musical star (Grahame) who’s been groomed by a retired star (O’Hara). The men in their lives are Melvyn Douglas (an insouciant composer) and Victor Jory (rich pigeon). The movie unconvincingly implies that Douglas and O’Hara are made for each other, but the story only begins to add up if we understand the symbiotic relation between the female flatmates as going a good deal farther than the Production Code would allow, and even then it still makes not a lick of sense that O’Hara falsely claims responsibility for shooting Grahame—unless the final flashback that explains everything is also a lie.

From the wilds of 1955 and freshly released on demand from Warner Archive come two costumed swashbucklers in Cinemascope and Eastmancolor, and both featuring the reliable George Sanders in supporting roles.

The lesser product is The King’s Thief, set in the England of Charles II (Sanders, all foppish and bewigged and be-toy-dogged, lacking only a pinch of snuff). Now that he’s returned to the throne after having defeated that tyrant Cromwell, the monarchy would be a fine institution if only the king weren’t hornswoggled by his most trusted duke (David Niven), a hiss-worthy scoundrel who keeps tricking the king into signing death warrants for his loyal subjects, the better to confiscate their wealth and fortify his own private army. Oh treason! Though to speak truly, loyalty and power seem liquid commodities in this scenario, almost random.