Edge of Doom, for which you see a nice promo poster above, was based on a novel by Leo Brady. We showed you the cover art for that not long ago. AFI.com categorizes this as a drama, not a film noir, though most sites label it the latter. The story begins with a noir staple—the framing narration, as two priests, one young and faltering, is told by the other, older and stalwart, how he was brought closer to God through his interaction with a man accused of murder. Dana Andrews plays the experienced priest, while Farley Granger plays the troubled subject of Andrews’ voiceover.
Granger’s issues begin when his dear old ma dies and he needs money to bury her in style. He goes to his ma’s rectory, but the priest there had previously refused to bury Granger’s dear old pa in consecrated ground. Granger asks the priest for a nice funeral for his dear old ma, but the priest refuses to promise anything but a pine box and a fare-thee-well, so Granger flies into a rage and ends up bludgeoning the pompous old skinflint into the hereafter. The murder ushers Andrews into the scenario—he’s next in line at the rectory, so he’ll inherit the dead priest’s job. That soon brings him into contact with Granger, and the rest is easy to figure.
Granger plays nervous and unstable here quite well. He’d later perfect the disturbed young man role with Strangers on a Train. Andrews does far less—he plays his priest as low key and ready with an aphorism, which is where most actors went with that type of role back then. Within those parameters, he’s fine. As to whether Edge of Doom is a film noir, it lacks most of the non-visual requirements—notably the hard-boiled cynic we all love so much. However, the noir visuals are so incessant that it’s impossible not to include this movie in the grouping, in our opinion. Edge of Doom premiered in the U.S. today in 1950.
You heard me. Census taker, liver, a nice chianti, fava beans. Having guests for dinner has long been a passion of mine.
Rudolph Belarski is a top notch illustrator and his art is always immediately recognizable. We knew this was him without having to check (then we checked to be sure). Yup. It’s him. To see more nice examples of his work look here, here, and here. Leo Brady’s 1949 novel Edge of Doom isn’t about eating anyone for dinner, though that would be fun. It’s about murdering a priest, and was made into a 1950 film with Farley Granger as the disturbed man at the crux of the tale. You see in the text at bottom right that this is a tie-in edition of the novel. Which explains why Belarski’s art is modeled directly on a promo shot from the film. We’ll try to get around to watching it pretty soon.
This cool image features American actress Pamela Tiffin, who appeared in films such as Harper with Paul Newman, Kill Me My Love with Farley Granger, and the Italian production I protagonisti with Pulp Intl.faveSylva Koscina. This photo session, from 1968, also produced the image below, which you see on the cover of the Japanese cinema magazine Movie Information/Movie Pictorial.
Why does the magazine have two names? We’re glad you asked. The Japanese you see below translates literally as “movie information,” but on the rear cover the magazine often used the English name Movie Pictorial. We have no idea why, and probably never will. See another Tiffin shot at the bottom ofthispost.
I didn’t mean to make you die, I’m just a jealous guy.
Though we’re just getting around to featuring Inside Story here on Pulp for the first time, it was one of the better-known tabloids on American newsstands. We aren’t sure when it began publishing, but we’ve seen issues dating from 1955. And looking the other direction, we can make an educated guess that it folded in the early seventies, because we’ve seen no issues past 1971. In this March 1956 issue, quite a few celebrities get the smear treatment. Lena Horne’s interracial marriage is discussed, along with Greta Garbo’s suspicious lack of a spouse, and Roy Rogers’ goodie-goodie image, and we learn about the dietary tricks of the day as well as a supposed “sex drink” favored by movie stars.
The magazine also examines the June 1906 murder of Stanford White by Harry K. Thaw, a killing committed out of jealousy. The reason Inside Story brings it up fifty years after the fact is because a film exploring the circumstances of the killing had been released the previous October. Entitled The Girl in the Red Velvet Swing, the movie starred Ray Milland, Farley Granger, and—as Thaw’s wife Evelyn Nesbit—British-born actress Joan Collins. Inside Story informs readers that Collins was chosenfor the role because her beauty merely rivals that of Nesbit. That’s quite a claim when talking about a woman as stunning as Joan Collins, but in this case the tabloid may be right. We’ve included a second photo of Nesbit at left so you can judge for yourself. Inside Story is also correct when it says the facts around the White killing were sanitized for the movie. There’s little doubt the truth was too sordid.
Evelyn Nesbit had been Stanford White’s lover before marrying Harry Thaw. Thaw was so tormented by this fact that he would tie Evelyn to a bed and beat her until she confessed in detail every sexual act she had ever engaged in with White. She later testified that she sometimes made things up, because he would beat her more if she had nothing to divulge. Eventually, she claimed that White had a red velvet swing installed in one of his apartments, and he would push her while looking up her skirts, and on one occasion made her ride the swing nude. She also told tales of threesomes and other activities. Thaw, trapped in a classic avoidance-avoidance dilemma, was tortured both by knowing and not knowing about his wife’s past.
Since he couldn’t abide either, he lashed out at what he perceived as the source of the problem by shooting White in the head in front of hundreds of witnesses during a play at Madison Square Garden. Problem solved—except for the murder trial. But Thaw and his lawyer contrived a perfect defense, considering the sexual climate of the times. They convinced Evelyn to testify that White sexually abused her when they were together. How this justified a public execution we can’t know without reading the trial transcripts, but it worked. Thaw was acquitted by reason of temporary insanity. In 1906 it was, apparently, just fine to be so wracked by jealousy over your spouse’s sexual past that you could execute her previous lover.
As if that sordid tale isn’t enough, Inside Story gives readers two love triangles for the price of one. In the Roy Rogers article, what readers discover that “they don’t tell the kiddies” is that the clean-cut singing cowboy may have had an affair with Ella Mae Cooley, wife of bandleader Spade Cooley. At least that was the rumor at the time. But you know how rumors are. Rogers’ image was so antiseptically spotless that the tabloidsmay have taken a certain pleasure in trying to tarnish it with a bit of infidelity. But the mud never stuck, probably because the affair almost certainly never happened.
But nobody could tell that to Spade Cooley. His career failing because of the rise of rock ’n’ roll, and filled with paranoia partly because of his own numerous extramarital shenanigans, he tormented his wife with suspicions for years. When she finally asked him for a divorce in 1962, he said no—by stomping her to death. You see the unhappy couple below, on their wedding day, when neither of them could have imagined how it was all going to end. Cooley went to prison after a sensational trial. Roy Rogers emerged from it all unscathed, and continued his career as America’s most clean-cut singing cowboy. If there’s a lesson in all this, it’s that jealousy doesn’t pay. Unless of course, you happen to publish a muckraking tabloid like Inside Story—then it pays mighty fine indeed.
Wallace H. Carothers, an American chemist, inventor and the leader of organic chemistry at DuPont Corporation, receives a patent for a silk substitute fabric called nylon. Carothers was a depressive who for years carried a cyanide capsule on a watch chain in case he wanted to commit suicide, but his genius helped produce other polymers such as neoprene and polyester. He eventually did take cyanide—not in pill form, but dissolved in lemon juice—resulting in his death in late 1937.
In Miami, Florida, Giuseppe Zangara attempts to shoot President-elect Franklin D. Roosevelt, but is restrained by a crowd and, in the course of firing five wild shots, hits five people, including Chicago, Illinois Mayor Anton J. Cermak, who dies of his wounds three weeks later. Zangara is quickly tried and sentenced to eighty years in jail for attempted murder, but is later convicted of murder when Cermak dies. Zangara is sentenced to death and executed in Florida’s electric chair.
1929—Seven Men Shot Dead in Chicago
Seven people, six of them gangster rivals of Al Capone’s South Side gang, are machine gunned to death in Chicago, Illinois, in an event that would become known as the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Because two of the shooters were dressed as police officers, it was initially thought that police might have been responsible, but an investigation soon proved the killings were gang related. The slaughter exceeded anything yet seen in the United States at that time.
1935—Jury Finds Hauptmann Guilty
A jury in Flemington, New Jersey finds Bruno Hauptmann guilty of the 1932 kidnapping and murder of the Lindbergh baby, the son of Charles Lindbergh. Hauptmann is sentenced to death and executed in 1936. For decades, his widow Anna fights to have his named cleared, claiming that Hauptmann did not commit the crime, and was instead a victim of prosecutorial misconduct, but her claims are ultimately dismissed in 1984 after the U.S. Supreme Court refuses to address the case.