
Though the term wasn’t widely used back then, Moonrise is a movie about trauma. Dane Clark plays a man whose father was hanged for the crime of murder, and who’s been teased and tormented by others about it his entire life. When one of his worst childhood torturers (played by Lloyd Bridges in an early role) pushes him too far when both are adults, Clark bashes in his skull with a rock and leaves the body in the woods. This is just the beginning of Clark’s troubles. It happens that Bridges’ fiancee is Gail Russell, and Clark has always wanted her. That’s motive right there. Worse, several townspeople are quite aware that he’s always wanted her.
But maybe the body won’t ever be discovered. Fat chance. Clark spends days dreading the inevitable, then after the corpse turns up, sweats like a war criminal in the dock as the local yokel sheriff tries to solve the crime. The sheriff is one of those types that seems slow-witted but—gasp!—really isn’t. You know how it goes from that point. He drawls many homespun yet simultaneously cryptic observations that make Clark quiver in his shoes. There’s an acquaintance of Clark’s who lives in the woods, played by Rex Ingram in a rare meaty speaking role for a black actor, and he really does figure out Clark is a killer, but says nothing because he figures Clark will confess of his own accord. Hmm… maybe.
The problem is, the torment Clark has endured as both a child and adult has been over-the-top cruel. Thus traumatized across the years, he’s unable to respect any boundaries or care about any feelings save his own. For example, he gives Russell zero choice about accepting his amorous advances, and Russell allows herself to be disrespected, manhandled, and eventually bullied into a relationship. Elsewhere, eventual M*A*S*H* actor Harry Morgan plays a “deaf and dumb” local who’s mercilessly teased by a crowd. We bring it up to illustrate that, in short, this is not a movie that offers a high opinion of humanity, which makes it difficult to watch, and a little hard to believe.
But okay, Moonrise is filled with reprehensible and pitiable characters because its ultimate point is that mistreatment embeds itself in the psyche and manifests later, to exponentially more people’s detriment—i.e. it’s a losing game for a society to be cruel. Short term satisfaction is repaid with compound interest on the back end. It’s a good lesson for 2024. Not that anyone who needs to learn it would listen. We just wish Moonrise, with such a serious subtext, hadn’t been so hamhanded about the syndrome it explores. But it wasn’t bad in the end. We suspect the source novel by Theodore Strauss is more nuanced, and maybe we’ll read it and find out. Moonrise premiered today in 1948.























Diana Dors smacks Patrick Allen blurry in 1957’s The Long Haul.
Mob boss George Raft menaces Anne Francis in a promo image made for 1954’s Rogue Cop.
Bud Abbott gets aggressive with Lou Costello in 1945’s Here Come the Co-Eds.
Jo Morrow takes one from black hat Jack Hogan in 1959’s The Legend of Tom Dooley.
Chris Robinson and Anita Sands get a couple of things straight about who’s on the yearbook committee in Diary of High School Bride.
Paul Newman and Ann Blyth agree to disagree in 1957’s The Helen Morgan Story.
Verna Lisi shows Umberto Orsini who gives the orders in the 1967 film La ragazza e il generale, aka The Girl and the General.
What the fuck did you just call me? Marki Bey slaps Betty Anne Rees loopy in the 1974 horror flick
Claudia Cardinale slaps (or maybe punches—we can’t
Audrey Totter reels under the attentions of Richard Basehart in 1949
Anne Baxter tries to no avail to avoid a slap from heel Steve Cochran in 1954’s 
Though Alan Ladd was a little guy who Gail Russell probably could have roughed up if she wanted, the script called for him to slap her, and he obeyed in the 1946 adventure
Peter Alexander guards his right cheek, therefore Hannelore Auer crosses him up and attacks his left in 1964’s Schwejk’s Flegeljahre, aka Schweik’s Years of Indiscretion.
Elizabeth Ashley gives Roddy McDowall a facial in in 1965’s The Third Day.
Tony Anthony slaps Lucretia Love in 1972’s
AndreÌ Oumansky goes backhand on Lola Albright in 1964’s
Frank Ferguson catches one from Barbara Bel Geddes in the 1949 drama Caught.
This looks like a real slap, so you have to credit the actresses for their commitment. It’s from 1961’s Raisin in the Sun and shows Claudia McNeil rearranging the face of Diana Sands.
Gloria Grahame finds herself cornered by Broderick Crawford in 1954’s
Bette Davis, an experienced slapper and slappee, gets a little assistance from an unidentified third party as she goes Old West on Amanda Blake in a 1966 episode of Gunsmoke called “The Jailer.”
There are a few slaps in 1939’s Gone with the Wind, so we had our pick. We went with Vivien Leigh and Leslie Howard.
Virginia Field takes one on the chin from Marshall Thompson in 



















Don’t worry, baby. We have a stand-your-ground law in this state, so theoretically my stalking and murdering this guy shouldn’t be a big deal.
Hypothetically speaking, if I botched your husband’s defense, would that increase or decrease the odds of the two us having hot filthy sex?
So, long story short, banging guys in this convertible has become sort of a way of life.
Objection! Melodramatic!
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client is extremely rich. Defense rests.





























































































