Blu-ray Review: The Strange Love of Martha Ivers

The Strange Love of Martha Ivers is one of those really dark films noir that tends to get away with more than it seems to be getting away with. Barbara Stanwyck is the name-above-the-title star, and the title character. She's the kind that makes an entrance, if you know what I mean. The entire scene changes when she walks into a room. But the movie is actually about Sam Masterson (Van Heflin), and how he finds Martha again. And even then, the movie is thrown further off kilter with a lengthy prologue, populated by child actors, and also a romance for Heflin. And yet it all comes together beautifully.

In the prologue, Martha accidentally kills her mean, cruel auntie (Judith Anderson). A nerdy, doting boy Walter O'Neil -- whose father is Martha's tutor -- witnesses it. Young Sam is there as well, but he gets away and leaves town. Years later, they're all grown up. Sam drifts into town again, and -- stranded by a flat tire -- ends up finding his old friends again. Walter (Kirk Douglas, in his movie debut) is now the District Attorney, and Martha has turned her family fortune into an empire. Martha and Walter worry that Sam has come back to blackmail them. But Sam only wants to get his car and leave. He would also like to take the pretty jailbird Toni (Lizabeth Scott) with him.

Sixteen years earlier director Lewis Milestone made the World War One phenomenon, All Quiet on the Western Front, but he did not have a career that lived up to that achievement. He does a serviceable job on Martha Ivers, accentuating the feeling of being trapped, constricted, and corrupted by money and power -- including Walter's blatant alcoholism -- crossed with Sam's footloose-and-fancy-free lifestyle. The script came from Robert Rossen, who later directed The Hustler, and the messages are likely from him. Still, there are plenty of lurking, shadowy threats to make this one a thrill.

HD Cinema Classics has released one of their public domain specials, a Blu-ray accompanied by a bonus DVD. It comes with a "restoration comparison" so we can see the new high quality. In truth, it's a bit soft and fuzzy, but bright and totally watchable. It also has a commentary track by noir expert William Hare, a trailer, and a postcard inside the box.

Blu-Ray Review: The Red House

In France, Delmer Daves is considered one of the best of Hollywood craftsmen, a maker of underappreciated pulp. But in America, try as we may, we just can't elevate him to the status of people like Hawks, Walsh, or Mann. Today he's best known for two "messagey" Westerns, Broken Arrow (1950) and 3:10 to Yuma (1957), as well as the third of four Bogart/Bacall movies, Dark Passage (1947).

These movies don't quite click with The Red House, which is a peculiar thriller with some horror overtones. It conjures up a wholesome small town feel, complete with nosy neighbors and gossip, and an undercurrent that grows increasingly darker.

Perhaps the most interesting facet is Edward G. Robinson, in one of his most complex roles, something of a cross between his milquetoast in Scarlet Street (1945), and his tough, resourceful Nazi hunter in The Stranger (1946). He plays Pete Morgan, a farmer with a wooden leg. He appears to live a peaceful existence, until we learn that his family is slightly broken. The woman he lives with (Judith Anderson, from Rebecca) is not his wife, but his sister, and their pretty teen daughter, Meg (Allene Roberts), is actually adopted.

Moreover, Pete lives in fear of the nearby woods, and forbids anyone to go in or near them. But as the story begins, Meg convinces Pete to hire Nath (Lon McCallister) to help out after school. On the first night, Nathe decides to take a short cut through the woods, which causes all kinds of havoc. Nathe decides to find out what the big deal is, but the next time he ventures into the woods, someone clocks him on the head. To complicate matters, Nathe has a sexy girlfriend (hottie Julie London) who doesn't particularly care about Nathe's new pastime. Big lug Rory Calhoun co-stars.

When characters go into the woods, Daves lets them have it with wind, shadows, and howling, creepy sound effects. Otherwise, things are sunny and idyllic, like a preview of "Leave It to Beaver." Yet he doesn't seem particularly able to cross or layer these ideas the way that, say, Fritz Lang might have done. However, the atmosphere is still strong, and even if Daves doesn't generate any real terror, he does make a fairly compelling mystery, filled with terrific little touches. Miklós Rózsa contributed the eerie score.

HD Cinema Classics has released The Red House on Blu-Ray in a two-disc set that also includes a DVD. The film is in the public domain, so this is an admirable attempt to give it a prestige package, but it's not exactly top quality. The contrast is low and the image is soft, and the shadows don't look as good as they might have. There's a so-so commentary track by scholar William Hare, a trailer, a restoration demonstration, optional Spanish subtitles, and a postcard inside the box. (Otherwise, you can watch the movie free here.)