THE WHITE TOWER (1950) – Directed by Ted Tetzlaff, starring Glenn Ford, Valli, Claude Rains, Oskar Homolka, Sir Cedric Hardwicke & Lloyd Bridges

The opening shot over the credits to THE WHITE TOWER shows the immensity of ‘the white tower’ of the title. This is clearly, for the money-conscious RKO Studios, a big budget film, shot on location, in colour and with a by now big star on loan from Columbia, Glenn Ford.

A first-rate cast of supporting players gives Glenn a challenging playing field on which to compete. He not only has to climb a mountain, he has to face the towering talent of his co-stars.

First seen playing the harmonica(!), Ford is obviously the good guy (one of the first times in colour!). He smokes his pipe again and looks subdued and sensible as a former American pilot who had been shot down during WWII.

As the plot unfolds in the shadow of the treacherous White Tower mountain, it becomes clear that the main action of the film will involve danger and death thousands of feet above the ground.

Ford wisely refrains from trying to grab the spotlight from his talented co-stars. It’s not his style. As the hero of the story he is naturally found to be at the film’s centre. He is wholly believable as a man capable of conquering the forbidding mountain. In fact, it was around this time that Glenn Ford actually climbed Mont Blanc. This is the core of truth with every Ford hero—he is completely at ease with heroics, capable but quiet, self-assured and confident.

The blonde, athletic-looking Lloyd Bridges embodies Aryan physical perfection. I can’t recall seeing him in a colour film at this point in his career. He appeared in numerous B pictures in between terrific supporting performances in films such as HIGH NOON.

Ms. Valli is determined to ascend the White Tower in memory of her father, who died attempting the feat. Ford is appropriately sensitive to her purpose, while being the pillar of strength she needs.

The lush colour of the film recalls the majestic story-book look of RKO’s THE QUIET MAN, which would follow in a few year’s time.

The idyllic scenery is beautifully shot and the early climbing sequences are more tranquil than foreboding. Nonetheless they set up the drama that will shortly be played out once the heavy—and dangerous—climbing begins.

Each of the climbers—Ford, Valli, Bridges, Hardwicke, Rains and Homolka—all have camera time so that the story unfolds leisurely and without preference.

The White Tower’s jagged peaks and gaping ravines begin to weary the climbers as the snow and ice become commonplace. In this isolated part of the world the relationships become more sharply defined.

Ford has a philosophical scene with Hardwicke in which they discuss the ‘feeling’ of the mountain and what the experience of climbing it can mean. Ford delivers his lines almost like a young Jimmy Stewart, with a few pauses and false starts. It’s not a distraction, rather a successful attempt at a realistic delivery which indicates Glenn’s growing ease on film. This speech pattern was to become a mainstay characteristic of his later great performances beginning in the 1950s. Ford seems to be thinking the words for the first time—the mark of a great actor.

Ford is also up to the physical challenge of this film, doing most of his own climbing and stunt work.

A creative touch of realism occurs when, waking in the morning, Ford grabs a handful of snow and rubs it on his hands and face as a sort of makeshift ablution.

Claude Rains gives the most sensitive and memorable performance as a failed writer. His solitary scene completing what will be his last book is the stuff of tragedy.

The tensions between Ford and Bridges form the main conflict of THE WHITE TOWER. Ford, as a former American flyer shot down during the way, is bound to feel resentful when he discovers that Bridges is an ex-German soldier who obviously retains his Nazi zeal. Bridges’ forceful behaviour becomes more evident the closer the group gets to the top of the mountain.

Ford winds up having to chase Bridges to the top and again has some excellent solo moments conveying the desperation of his dangerous, solitary climb. He convincingly projects the determination it takes to climb a mountain, not only because he was a good actor, but because he was capable of climbing a mountain himself.

After the deadly encounter with Bridges, Ford has to contend with snow blindness, which threatens his predicament further.

Of course there is a satisfactory resolution and Ford and Valli leave the white tower behind them for a new life together (presumably on flat land!).

Glenn Ford’s performance is typically good and while the film has some slow sections, taken as a character study, or rather as a study of characters, THE WHITE TOWER is a satisfying and beautiful-to-look-at drama.

CONVICTED (1950) – Directed by Henry Levin, starring Glenn Ford, Broderick Crawford & Dorothy Malone

This tough prison drama, a re-make of THE CRIMINAL CODE, features Glenn Ford as a young man sent to prison on questionable grounds. He kills a man accidentally in a nightclub brawl. While the sympathies of the District Attorney, played by the towering Broderick Crawford, are with him, an incompetent lawyer blows the case and Glenn is sent to the slammer.

Broderick Crawford had such a machine-gun-like delivery of his lines that he is bound to dominate any scene he is in. Ford, who begins the film in hot water and proceeds to get in deeper and deeper as the story unfolds, is somewhat dwarfed by Crawford. It’s not that Ford’s acting is lacking. He is called upon to play a man frightened and subdued by his circumstances. It is not until he has spent time in prison that he begins to blossom and become more colourful.

Ford is tried, convicted and adjusting to prison faster than you can say ‘up the creek without a paddle’. The prison regime is strict—the men even march to their cells—and Ford is hardened in no time. When his sentence is confirmed as five years and not the one or two he was hoping for, he starts to get antsy. When cellmates Will Geer and Millard Mitchell begin planning an escape, Ford wants in, even though he is eligible for early parole.

Before the attempted break can occur, Ford receives word that his heart-broken, elderly father has passed away. An unsympathetic guard prompts Ford to attack him for his insensitivity and Ford finds himself in solitary confinement. This, in turn, spares him the fate of Geer, who is killed in the escape attempt.

By this point, Crawford has now been appointed the new prison warden, which means it is only a matter of time before he crosses paths with Ford once again.

Crawford’s arrival at the prison provides the brief comic relief in this sombre drama. He chooses his personal staff from among the inmates and gets a cook who poisoned his wife and a barber who once cut a man’s throat!

The balance of domestic life between Crawford, his daughter (Dorothy Malone) and his mother, contrasts effectively with the realities of prison life. Ford, appointed as a driver for Crawford and his daughter, begins to fall for Malone and is forced to question his direction in life.

The most interesting aspect of this film is seeing Crawford play a good guy. Ford is not called upon to do anything he hasn’t done before and that, as much as Crawford’s unique presence, renders him the less interesting of the two male leads.

Ford and Malone generate little heat together, but one senses a genuine attraction and hope for the future, which of course gives Glenn something to look forward to.

CONVICTED is imaginatively directed in spots with some striking images. Glenn Ford gives a good but unmemorable performance. The role does not allow him to stretch, but he nonetheless helps make CONVICTED entertaining, even today.

THE FLYING MISSILE (1950) – Directed by Henry Levin, starring Glenn Ford & Viveca Lindfors.

THE FLYING MISSILE is based on a story co-written by N. Richard Nash, author of THE RAINMAKER. With this pedigree, one has high hopes.

Beginning with rousing naval music, the stage is set for an exciting military action film. Unfortunately that is not what we get. Instead, THE FLYING MISSILE is an examination of the development of a new weapon: flying missiles fired from submarines.

The story takes place in peace time, though shortly before the film was released, war in Korea had broken out. THE FLYING MISSILE is the film in which Glenn Ford became so interested in the navy that he joined the reserves and enjoyed a long career which even saw active duty in Vietnam.

THE FLYING MISSILE must have been quite fascinating when it was first made. The technology of flying missiles was relatively new, having been pioneered by the Nazis in WWII. For today’s audiences, the film is rather dated and only mildly interesting.

Glenn is first seen commanding his submarine during a training exercise. As the sub surfaces he and some crew members witness the test firing of a V2 missile from an American ship. One of Ford’s crew remarks, just before the missile is fired, ‘why can’t we go back to bows and arrows?’

Ford is of the philosophy that whoever has the best weapons has the best deterrent for peace, and is more vocal about the need for submarines to be equipped with these state-of-the-art guided missiles. He seeks the approval of his commanding office to have his sub and crew transferred to a special training base where guided missile testing is under way.

Ford smokes his pipe and looks appropriately serious as a dedicated navy man. He is as home in military roles as he is in Westerns.

The exotically beautiful Swedish actress Viveca Lindfors plays the feminine interest in this male-driven film. She was once married to director Don Siegel, who may have been a better director for this film!

There is an unavoidable documentary feel to THE FLYING MISSILE. As noted, this would play better in 1950 because the information was new and cutting edge—and the threat of Communism loomed large on the American conscience.

But it is precisely the docu-drama format that dates THE FLYING MISSILE to an earlier time when it wasn’t politically incorrect to be pro-military, even if understood in the context of being a peacekeeper. There is nothing even particularly memorable about Glenn Ford’s performance. His off-camera interest in the navy adds nothing to the film, though he is believable in uniform, as always.

Ford seems to have tremendous chemistry with all his leading ladies. Viveca Lindfors is no exception. Their banter is fun to watch as both of them get the upper hand in equal measure.

There is a well-written scene when Ford encounters a general having his breakfast. A light comic touch is required, as well as earnestness and naturalism. The fact he pulls all these elements together with such ease is an indication of Glenn Ford’s new maturity as an actor. He is never forced in his playing and always engages the viewer through persuasion, rather than by forceful presence.

Later, tragedy strikes in the form of an accident which leaves Ford crippled. He plays his scenes of embitterment and anger capably.

The actual footage of flying missiles being fired from submarines is quite interesting and would have been brand, spanking new in 1950, when THE FLYING MISSILE was released. It brings the film back on track after the sub-plot romantic/tragic elements are played out, though the ending is rather abrupt.

Glenn Ford has by now developed into a consistently strong leading man who is almost always credible. Despite a few misfires in the post-war 1940s—the beginning of the second stage of his career—a number of fine films were graced by Ford’s growing maturity as an actor.

He was now a major star set to embark on the most prolific and artistically satisfying decade of his career. A decade in which he would contribute some truly great and memorable performances in time-honoured classic films.

Stay tuned for part three of this complete retrospective of the films of Glenn Ford!

GLENN FORD RETROSPECTIVE PART ONE LINKS:
INTRODUCTION
FILMS OF THE 1930s
FILMS OF 1940
FILMS OF 1941
FILMS OF 1942-43

GLENN FORD RETROSPECTIVE PART TWO LINKS:
INTRODUCTION & A STOLEN LIFE
FILMS OF 1946
FILMS OF 1947-48
FILMS OF 1948-49
FILMS OF 1949
FILMS OF 1950

Jon Ted Wynne