Great first twenty minutes: the hip dialogue, the jazzy atmosphere, the lively camera action, and especially the jailhouse scene where white men's ambitions meet up with black men's soul. I thought this would be something special, but the last half blows it. I'm guessing scripter Robert Rossen didn't know where to go with his novel characters and noirish ambiance. So he ends up with a melodramatic love affair that's neither believable nor well-acted.
Ahh, but that first part. It's sort of like the 1930's meeting up with the 40's-- the jive band jumping aboard a freight train like any other footloose hobo. But they don't care; they're making cutting-edge music and it's a special bond. Halop and Kazan make great hipsters, as does Carson's shifty-eyed trumpeter. Whorf hasn't much range, but as a dreamy-eyed composer, he's perfect. Notice how up-tempo are the dialogue delivery and camera moves-- it's a super-charged atmosphere even as the the night hangs heavy over their vibrant little spark.
Things go downhill once they hook up with The Jungle and Betty Field. The roadhouse is okay and a good fringes-of-the-law place for them to perform. But Field has all the seductive charm of fingernails across a blackboard, while having Whorf fall for her is totally out of character. Maybe if she had seduced him first, his obsession would make sense. But the way it's handled, his plight is little more than a poorly done contrivance.
Maybe the plot jumps overboard, but the visuals remain fascinating They're exotic and artistically composed. And those surreal montages show real flair, especially Whorf's delirious fantasies. All in all, the movie's a genuine oddity, something like a noirish musical. But the only number played to completion is that novelty tune with the buck-toothed singer. So calling it a musical is a stretch. Actually, it's an animal without a pedigree. Nonetheless, there's a really compelling image that stays with me-- the band making with the blues in a boxcar as the train rolls on through the night, going who knows where. Now, there's a final note to ponder.
Ahh, but that first part. It's sort of like the 1930's meeting up with the 40's-- the jive band jumping aboard a freight train like any other footloose hobo. But they don't care; they're making cutting-edge music and it's a special bond. Halop and Kazan make great hipsters, as does Carson's shifty-eyed trumpeter. Whorf hasn't much range, but as a dreamy-eyed composer, he's perfect. Notice how up-tempo are the dialogue delivery and camera moves-- it's a super-charged atmosphere even as the the night hangs heavy over their vibrant little spark.
Things go downhill once they hook up with The Jungle and Betty Field. The roadhouse is okay and a good fringes-of-the-law place for them to perform. But Field has all the seductive charm of fingernails across a blackboard, while having Whorf fall for her is totally out of character. Maybe if she had seduced him first, his obsession would make sense. But the way it's handled, his plight is little more than a poorly done contrivance.
Maybe the plot jumps overboard, but the visuals remain fascinating They're exotic and artistically composed. And those surreal montages show real flair, especially Whorf's delirious fantasies. All in all, the movie's a genuine oddity, something like a noirish musical. But the only number played to completion is that novelty tune with the buck-toothed singer. So calling it a musical is a stretch. Actually, it's an animal without a pedigree. Nonetheless, there's a really compelling image that stays with me-- the band making with the blues in a boxcar as the train rolls on through the night, going who knows where. Now, there's a final note to ponder.