Brother Orchid (1940) and the Battle Between Selflessness and Selfishness

I'm going to Europe, see?

It's not easy being selfless in a society that rewards selfishness and promotes individualism. Take Little John Sarto (Edward G. Robinson) for instance. He's a top-notch gangster who has always gotten what he wanted by elbowing his way towards the big prize. He leads a group of gangsters, including Jack Buck (Humphrey Bogart), in a racket that coerces companies, both sellers and buyers, into joining "protection associations". If any buyer wants to buy from a seller, both parties have to be in the association. That means both parties have to kick back a fee to the association for this so-called "protection". What a great scam. Sarto needled his way into an already existing market and found a way to make money without doing anything other than intimidating people.

Check out that halo!

So when everyone turns on Sarto and he find himself badly injured and in front of a monastery, he is taken in by selfless, charitable men who want nothing but to see him get well. They want no compensation in any form. Just to see him heal. What's with this racket? How do they make a profit? They grow flowers, sell them, and any money leftover after overhead goes to charities. There is one particularly heartbreaking scene which I was hoping to provide as a clip to you but alas it was not meant to be. The brothers are giving Sarto (now Brother Orchid) a haircut when Brother Superior walks in and proclaims that he shall give all of the brothers a special treat since they earned 2 extra dollars off of their rose sales. They'll have watermelon for Thursday evening's dinner. Oh swell! Sarto/Orchid looks on with disdain. Watermelon? Big flipping deal. Then a young boy, shoeless and destitute walks in. The brothers take pity on him and give him the $2 for a new pair of shoes and scoff at the thought of watermelon. That scene just tore my heart right out of my chest.

Milking cows is an okay racket.

It also makes me terribly ashamed. I used to do a lot for other people but have become a bit battle hardened over time. For example, I used to go out with a group of friends to parties, dinners, and other outings. They would drink, I wouldn't and I would always try to drive the ones I could home to make sure they got there safe and sound. Even though it was out of my way, I would always offer and wouldn't take no for an answer. It would make me happy to be of help. However, most of those friends never did anything for me in return. They never pitched in for gas. They never offer me any means of transportation anywhere. And at one point I got fed up. I started to see them as leeches and instead of denying them rides, I started to refuse to go on outings altogether. How can I be like the monks? How can I offer kindness to others when all I see around me are opportunists? How can I get joy from simply helping out another person? I wish I could be like that again. I wish I could find what Brother Orchid did.

This film touched me in so many ways. It very quickly became a top favorite and I proceeded to watch it two more times, even though I have so many other films to watch. I couldn't put it in my Bogie marathon because this isn't about Bogie. It's about Edward G. Robinson's character. That's all that really matters.

In a Lonely Place (1950)

Switching things up here a little bit. Because I felt Brother Orchid (1940), which is in the Humphrey Bogart: The Essential Collection boxed set, was a film that I wanted to write about with some detail, I replaced it with In a Lonely Place (1950) which is much more a Bogie film than Brother Orchid would ever be.

In a Lonely Place stars Humphrey Bogart as screenwriter Dixon Steele. Steele has been in the business for a couple of decades, supported by his devoted agent Mel Lippman (Art Smith), but has been down on his luck lately. He's been taken to drink, punches and ladies but not so much to his craft. One night, he invites a hat check girl, to whom he lent a copy of a novel he has to adapt, back to his place to talk about the novel. His neighbor, Laurel Gray (Gloria Grahame), witnesses a bit of the interaction between the two that night and flirts with Steele from afar. The next day, the girl winds up murdered and Steele is the #1 suspect with Gray as his only alibi. Steele and Gray develop a close yet volatile relationship which starts to spin out of control as the murder investigation heats up.

While we were watching this film, Carlos noticed that the storyline shifted focus from the murder investigation to the love story between Steele (Bogie) and Gray (Grahame). He wondered why it didn't get back to the main plot point. I explained that these scenes were really important to the plot overall. It was crucial for the viewer to see the love story develop between the the two main characters for various reasons. 1) It allows the audience to develop some sympathy for both characters. 2) Our sympathy is crucial for caring about the two characters when complications arise later in the plot. 3) It's a slow point in the story that gives the audience a break from all the tension that transpires from the murder investigation. Carlos asked how I knew so much about the movie. I actually didn't know anything about In a Lonely Place but I do know a lot about narrative flow and I'm an amateur deconstructionist who appreciates the power of opposites. Movie goers only have so long of an attention span so they need breaks. Why do you think most musicals have a slow number before the big finale? It's a perfect time for a 3-5 minute mental snooze. You can't be wowed all the time. You need some respit. If you don't, you'll be overwhelmed and may lose interest. Also, how will you fully appreciate the tension of a situation when you don't know what it's like when it's not tense? You'll sense the tension much more accutely when you've had some time to relax. Also, if the film skipped over the love story, how would the audience recognize the importance of the love between the two characters when it becomes jeapordized later if you don't see the love blossom in the first place! While Carlos likes to look at the visual details of the movie, I love the more abstract details. It's two very different ways of appreciating film.

*weirdo fact - Gloria Grahame was married to the film's director, Nicholas Ray. She was estranged from him during the shooting of the film and later married his son. Awkward!

High Sierra (1941)

I can really sympathize with the guy.

Humphrey Bogart's career as an actor with Warner Bros. studios wasn't all peaches and cream. He struggled with delayed stardom and languished at 3rd and 4th billing parts. Bogart got stuck many roles that were beneath him. It wasn't Bogie's fault. It wasn't really Warner Bros. either. They didn't know what it was they had with him or how to capitalize it. He did so well in The Petrified Forest (1936) as Duke Mantee that they just kept giving him similar parts in films for the next few years. Why mess with a sure thing, right? Besides, they had a lot of big stars like Paul Muni, James Cagney, Edward G. Robinson and George Raft who all had big money contracts and Warner Bros. had to use their talents in order to make those contracts worth their money.

Along comes W.R. Burnett's novel High Sierra, with Warner Bros. salivating over it wanting to make it a big picture. At first they wanted Paul Muni, but Muni didn't agree with John Huston's script and flat out said no. Then Warner Bros. considered George Raft but as my friend Paul from Art, Movies, Wood and Whatnot... says Raft didn't made several bad career choices that allowed others to thrive. Bogie read the novel, loved it, wanted the part of Roy "Mad Dog Earle" and sent this telegram:

Bogie saw an opportunity and seized the moment. This telegram reminds me very much of the e-mail I sent inquiring about a new position that I later applied for and acquired. Bogie was fed up and wanted to do something with his career. He sent the telegram, got the role (not sure exactly what happened in between) and slapped on some skunk stripes and off he was to the Sierra Nevadas. Even upstaging, first-billed Ida Lupino couldn't steal Bogie's thunder. High Sierra was his time to shine.