The Big Steal

The Big Steal (1949) Directed by Don Siegel
Starring Robert Mitchum, Jane Greer, William Bendix, Ramon Novarro, Patric Knowles

Blending the sarcastic interplay of a romantic-comedy with the punch and thrills of a fast-paced action flick The Big Steal was surprisingly entertaining. There’s a chemistry between Mitchum and Greer (previously seen together in the noir classic Out of the Past) that, while it falls short of Bogart and Bacall’s, has an undeniable charm which carries throughout the movie from their acrimonious introduction to their inevitable romance; interestingly Greer was late in signing on, taking the role as a favor to Mitchum who was having trouble following a marijuana bust. The supporting cast, particularly Novarro, all rise to the occasion whether alone or sharing the screen with the stars. Vibrant performances elevate what would otherwise have been a dime a dozen adventure to a giddy romp without straying into cheaps laughs or rote violence.

It’s not all fun and games, however, it’s a whodunnit. Captain Blake (Bendix) is gunning for Duke Halliday (Mitchum) who is accused to stealing hundreds of thousands in an army payroll heist. Halliday maintains that the money was actually stolen by pretty-boy Jim Fiske (Knowles) but no one believes him, even Fiske’s jilted fiancee Joan Graham (Greer) who’s just disembarked in Veracruz hunting after her vanished betrothed and the couple thousand he’d borrowed. Halliday ducks the pinch and heads after Fiske assuming Blake’s identity, bumping heads with Graham along the way. Graham catches Fiske as he’s setting out on a delivery job and holds the package while he arranges a car. Halliday finds Graham, drags her after Fiske and Fiske takes off out of town leaving Halliday in the dirt and Graham wondering if what Halliday (posing as Blake) says is true. Before they can find out the local police get involved and both Graham and Halliday find themselves before Inspector General Ortega (Novarro), an eager student of English under the tutelage of his Lt. Ruiz and a cunning detective behind his quick smile. Fiske is burning rubber to make his drop, Halliday and Graham are both hot on his trail, Blake is hot on theirs and Ortega and Ruiz are curious to see where this is all going.

 

Anna Magdalena

Anna Magdalena (1998)
Directed by Chung Man Yee

Box office gold might flow when three Asian superstars are cast into one romantic comedy but as no bullion made its was into my pocket I’m not impressed. The director’s wet behind the ears, one of the leads is best known for his action roles, the female lead primary economic function is as a pop-singer, the cinematographer’s bored and the third lead seems sorely misplaced in this artificial buttery popcorn fluff.

Chan Kar-fu (Takeshi Kaneshiro, who starred in Chungking Express and Fallen Angels) is an alienated piano-tuner traveling from middle-class condo to middle-class condo on the sunny side of Hong Kong. We know he’s alienated because either his co-workers speak the other Chinese or the DVD producer didn’t bother to add subtitles for their conversation. At night he eats instant noodles and watches his fish, of which he has many, and goes to sleep.

Making a housecall Kar-fu finds himself working amidst a lover’s quarrel; her parents are coming to visit and he’s packing his belonging in an old orange crate because it wouldn’t be appropriate for him to stay. She accuses him of making an escape and he denies it, tho of course this is exactly what he means to do. Improbably the two men find themselves riding the same bus, and improbably Kar-fu finds his quiet little life shattered by Yau Muk-yan (Aaron Kwok) who swiftly installs himself into the piano tuner’s apartment. Muk-yan is an itinerant writer who hasn’t written a book, living off women and lucky bets. They’re the odd-couple without a script, a dour and quiet loner eating instant noodles with the gregarious and frivolous class-clown.

Then Mok Man-Yee (Kelly Chen) moves upstairs and Kar-fu is instantly smitten, spying her as she pours a bottle of water over her head. She plays piano, poorly, right above their heads; “Notebook for Anna Magdalena”, wrong each time, trickles through the ceiling each morning. Kar-fu smiles, drifting off into a reverie but Muk-yan is racing upstairs and pounding on the door. Instant animosity equals slumbering sexual tension and Kar-fu knows this tired plot device as well as the viewer. It’s only a matter of time before the combatants find themselves clawing at each other’s clothes instead of each other’s faces. He also knows that he can’t compete with the beguiling charm of Muk-yan and withdraws into fantasy.