I don’t usually use a poster as the featured image for my movie posts. I hope it’s not a sign that I’m cracking-up. But how could I resist that fetching picture of Claire Trevor in that hat? Kitty Claire Trevor insisted that it lead off the post and what Claire wants, she gets. It’s the way of the diva.
There was a wave of psychological films noir in the mid-Forties, many of which involved amnesia. I’ve written about two of these movies: High Wall and The Crooked Way. Crack-Up was an early example of the amnesiac thriller trend. It puts a spin on it: Pat O’Brien remembers a train wreck that nobody else saw. That’s why everyone thinks that Hollywood’s go-to Irishman had cracked-up.
I’m used to seeing Pat O as a priest, reporter, cop, or Jimmy Cagney’s best friend. Crack-Up is a departure from such roles: He plays a curator at an art museum. We see him deliver a lecture that’s anti-modern art with particular scorn for surrealism:
Was that the OG Dali fake or the real deal? Discuss amongst yourselves.
Nobody is who they seem to be in this movie except for Claire Trevor who’s a stand-up broad there for the absent minded curator.
Everyone else is suspect including Herbert Marshall who stopped playing leading men and shifted into playing villains in the mid-Forties. Is he one in Crack-Up? No comment.
The twists and turns of the plot are so vital that even I consider them to be spoilers. You know what that means: This feature is called pulp fiction, not pulp spoilers, so that’s all the plot I’m revealing.
The acting is excellent in Crack-Up. O’Brien lacked the star power of many of his peers but he’s convincing as a curator going mad. Or is he? His performance certainly packs a punch:
O’Brien takes a punch in the museum’s hall of statutes. The old Greek dude fared worse than Hollywood’s go-to Irishman:
In a word: Ouch.
Ray Collins puts his velvety voice to good use in the movie. That’s all I’m saying because he features prominently in the denouement. Tease, tease, tease.
I can say this, Collins plays a doctor who’s treating O’Brien who spends a fair amount of time flat on his back.
Irving Reis directed Crack-Up with style and verve. Robert De Grasse’s cinematography is suitably shadowy. The script by John Paxton, Ben Bengal, and Ray Spencer is clever and keeps the plot moving. A good job by all concerned. Good but not great.
Grading Time: I struggled with this one. Crack-Up is on the cusp of being a 3 1/2 star movie but doesn’t quite get there. I give it 3 stars and an Adrastos Grade of B. Any film with Claire Trevor is worth seeing.
I have posters on my mind. I’m not sure what Pat O’Brien’s character would make of them but I’m curating here, not Hollywood’s go-to Irishman.
Here are side-by long sheets:
As to the rhetorical question on the second poster: No. Next question.
The quad poster features yet another tagline as well as a lounging Claire Trevor.
I dig this print ad that comes from a UK trade show:
I hope I remember how to get to the lobby. I’m parched and need a big ass Coke Zero.
Mission accomplished. I’m pleased to report that I didn’t crack-up.
Oddly enough, there aren’t many decent scans of lobby cards for the movie, so these will just have to do:
We seem to have missed the train, let’s hop aboard the trailer.
The last word goes to Eddie Muller with his Noir Alley intro and outro: