Gun Crazy: Lovers That Go Together Like Guns and Ammunition

Peggy Cummins takes aim!

A film noir with a tragic love story involving the femme fatale and a gun-obsessed guy?

That's the unlikely premise of Gun Crazy, a 1950 "B" picture selected by the Library of Congress for inclusion in the National Film Registry in 1998. Although it made little noise when first released, it developed a quick cult reputation. By the 1960s, Gun Crazy was being hailed by noted critics and filmmakers, such as Francois Truffaut who famously recommended that Robert Benton and David Newman watch it. That duo was working on a script that would become Bonnie and Clyde--another landmark film often compared to Gun Crazy.

The opening scene is a stunner as fourteen-year-old Bart Tare (Russ Tamblyn) stands in the pouring rain on a neon-lit street and looks longingly at a handgun in a store window. He breaks the window with a brick and steals the gun and some ammunition. As he's running away, Bart falls down in a puddle and drops the gun, which slides over in front of the sheriff's feet.

John Dall as the adult Bart.

Bart's older sister tries to convince a judge that Bart is a good boy. She explains that he has always been fascinated by guns, but has killed nothing since he shot a chick at age 7 with a BB rifle. Despite her pleadings, the judge expresses concern with Bart's obsession with guns and sentences him to reform school.

When we next meet Bart (John Dall), he has returned home from serving as a marksmanship instructor in the Army. His pals take him to the carnival, where he witnesses a sharp-shooting display from Annie Laurie Starr (Peggy Cummins), one of the sideshow acts. Their "meet cute" sizzles with an undercurrent of sexual attraction, so rather than describe it, here's the scene (courtesy of the Cafe's YouTube channel):



Bart joins the carnival at Laurie's suggestion, though the situation creates a rivalry with Packett, the carny manager and Laurie's jealous boyfriend. Packett eventually confronts Laurie and threatens to tell Bart about the man she killed in St. Louis. Her response provides the first glimpse of her true nature: "You're going to hold that over my head for the rest of my life, aren't you?" Packett fires Annie and Bart, who hit the road and get married.

Post-honeymoon problems.

They live blissfully until Bart's savings run out. When Bart suggests that he get a job at Remington for $40 a week, Laurie confides that "she wants to do a little living" and "wants things...a lot of things." Threatening to leave him, Laurie convinces Bart to participate in an armed robbery--which signals the start of their fatalistic downfall.

Gun Crazy is an impeccably crafted film that benefits from two dazzling performances, deft direction, and a razor-sharp screenplay. John Dall, whom we have profiled in this blog, was an underrated actor who deserved better roles. He certainly got a juicy one in Gun Crazy and delivers as the reluctant robber who loves only two things in life: Laurie and guns.

The more surprising portrayal comes from Peggy Cummins, who is best remembered for romantic comedies (Always a Bride) and for playing the vanilla heroine in the later Curse of the Demon (1958). She exudes sexual energy with Dall while coming across as a cold, manipulative killer. But here's the beauty of her performance: Despite Laurie's bad girl persona and many faults, Cummins convinces the audience that her character truly loves Bart. It's a blessing that director Joseph H. Lewis was unsuccessful in casting his first choice for the role: Veronica Lake.

Laurie provides a distraction for the robbery.

Lewis was a journeyman director with a resume that included some interesting "B" movies (My Name is Julia Ross and So Dark the Night). But none of his work comes close to the innovative style employed in Gun Crazy. The film's highlight is a three-and-half minute bank robbery shot in a single take from the inside of the getaway car. The climax is almost as mesmerizing with Laurie and Bart hiding out in a fog-enshrouded swamp as they listen to their pursuers' footsteps in the water. Finally, I love how Lewis subtlety pushes the bounds of the production code by finding provocative ways to photograph Laurie (e.g., when she does a trick shot by bending down and shooting between her legs).

The lovers surrounded by fog.

As for the screenplay, it was credited to MacKinlay Kantor, whose original story appeared in The Saturday Evening Post, and Millard Kaufman. In the 1990s, Kaufman, who penned such classics as Bad Day at Black Rock, admitted he did not co-write Gun Crazy. He acted as a "front" for Dalton Trumbo, who was blacklisted at the time as one of the Hollywood Ten. Personally, I think the screenplay for Gun Crazy is one of the most quotable in all film noir, as evidenced by this passage delivered by Laurie prior to her wedding: "Bart, I've never been much good, at least up until now I haven't. You aren't getting any bargain. But I have a funny feeling I want to be good. I don't know...maybe I can't. But I'm going to try. I'll try hard, Bart. I'll try."

Laurie wants to be good.

Still, it's not just the dialogue that makes the Gun Crazy screenplay so compelling. The main characters, each destined for tragedy from the beginning, are what drive the film. Bart's love for Laurie is just as obsessive as his love for guns. As a youth, he couldn't stop himself from stealing the gun in the store window. As an adult, he can't stop himself from doing whatever is required to keep Laurie. In both instances, though, Bart overcomes his obsession when it comes to killing. It's the one thing he won't do for her. In the end, that's what separates Bart from her. Having been "kicked around," Laurie is willing to do anything--even commit murder--to get the things she thinks she deserves.

Gun Crazy is required viewing for any film noir fan. Film noir expert Eddie Mueller ranks it #18 on his list of the Top 25 Noir Films and calls it "the most exciting, dynamic and influential Noir movie ever made." The British Film Institute published a 96-page book devoted solely to it. Even the original movie poster, now valued at up to $2800, has its passionate admirers. So if you haven't seen Gun Crazy, what are you waiting for?


This review is part of the Femme Fatales of Film Noir Blogathon hosted by the Classic Movie Blog Association. We encourage you to check out the other films in this blogathon by clicking here.

A Peggy Cummins Twin Bill

American viewers probably know Peggy Cummins best from the film noir classic Gun Crazy (1950), Curse of the Demon (1958), and The Late George Apley (1947). However, despite appearing in only 26 films, the enchanting actress was a steady presence in British cinema in the 1950s. I recentlycaught two comedies from that decade which paired her with Terence Morgan.

Always a Bride (1953). Peggy Cummins as a con artist? In this amusing comedy, she plays a daughter who reluctantly teams with her grifter father. One of their scams involves checking into a luxury hotel as newlyweds--with the groom (her father) allegedly stealing his young wife's fortune and abandoning her. She then "steals" from the hotel guests who willingly donate money to help out the destitute "bride." Problems arise when Clare (Cummins) falls in love with one of her fraud victims, an earnest treasury employee named Terence Wench (Terence Morgan). When a guilt-ridden Clare disappears, Terence pursues her--while Clare's father teams up with old cronies for one last big sting.

Terence Morgan.

Running a tight 82 minutes, Always a Bride capitalizes on its versatile cast. Peggy Cummins and Terence Morgan make an appealing couple; his offbeat charm reminds me very much of Michael Wilding's police detective in Hitchcock's Stage Fright (1950). Cummins, meanwhile, taps into her vulnerable side in a role that's the direct opposite of her bad girl in Gun Crazy. While they provide the film's romance, Ronald Squire has a grand time as Clare's rascally father. Assisted by a bevy of old pros, he makes Always a Bride fun to watch as his grand money-making scheme spirals out of control. (By the way, look fast for Sebastian Cabot as a taxi driver.) If you enjoy Ealing's 1950s comedies, be sure to check out Always a Bride, which is currently available on Amazon Prime.

The March Hare (1956). This disappointing reteaming of Peggy Cummins and Terence Morgan gets off to a decent start when Morgan's character, a young Irish baronet, loses his estate betting on his race horse. His aunt (Martita Hunt from Brides of Dracula) buys him a promising colt and hires Lazy Mangan (Cyril Cusack) to raise and train it. I don't know about you, but I'd be wary about employing someone called "Lazy" and who is well known for his propensity to spend hours at the pub. Meanwhile, a wealthy American rents the estate and his lovely daughter (Cummins) catches the baronet's eye.

Cyril Cusack as Lazy Mangan.

The biggest problem with The March Hare is that there's too little of Peggy Cummins and too much of Cyril Cusack. The latter chews up several pastures of scenery--at least I think he does. It's actually hard to understand most of his line readings given his heavy accent and the character's perpetual drunken state.

Although its running time is only three minutes longer than Always a Bride, The March Hare is quite a slog. And if you're wondering what the title means, I'll save you the effort of watching: It's the name of the horse. Really.

Night of the Demon: If Hitchcock Had Made a Horror Movie...

Although made in the late 1950s, Night of the Demon (US: Curse of the Demon) owes its inspiration to producer Val Lew-ton's 1940s “B” horror films. Constrained by a low budget, Lewton knew he couldn’t afford to show a scary monster, so he made psychological thrillers like The Leopard Man in which the film’s menace was implied. One of Lewton’s directors was Jacques Tourneur, who would later helm the film noir classic Out of the Past and, of course, Night of the Demon.

According to legend, Tourneur’s original cut of Night of the Demon never showed the title creature. The producers felt it wasn’t creepy enough, though, and inserted two scenes with a gruesome two-horned, fanged demonic creature created by Wally Veevers. Whether the tale is true or not, the decision to show the demon works to the film’s advantage. The creature’s rare appearances make quite an impact and Veevers’ work is quite impressive.

The real star of the film, though, is Niall McGinnis, who plays devil cult leader Dr. Julian Karswell. At the beginning of the film, Karswell receives a visit from Professor Harrington, who has been investigating the cult. A frightened Harrington tells Karswell that he will stop the investigation and pleads with Karswell to “call it off.” Karswell notes that “some things are more easily started than stopped.” Later that night, a hideous demon kills Harrington.

John Holden (Dana Andrews), an American psychologist, and Joanna Harrington (Peggy Cummins), the professor’s niece, pick up the investigation. Holden, who doesn’t believe in the supernatural, pays a call on Karswell at the latter’s country estate. Karswell, sporting clown make-up, is giving a Halloween magic show for the local children. It’s my favorite scene and features such great dialogue as:

Holden: I see you practice white magic as well as black.

Karswell: I don’t think it would be too amusing for the youngsters if I conjured up a demon from Hell for them. Or for myself for that matter. As we’re not protected by the magic circle, we’d both of us be torn to shreds.

Holden: And you’d spoil the party.

Karswell: You’re so right…but how to make the point.

To do just that, Karswell summons up a wind storm (a medieval witch’s specialty, he explains later) that sends screaming children running inside the house—a scene that foreshadows a similar children’s party gone awry in Hitchcock's The Birds.

The film's most famous sequence, though, is probably Holden's late night trek through the woods. After an encounter at Karswell's country estate, Holden makes for a quick exit out the study door. Karswell politely advises him not to take the path through the woods, but the defiant Holden does just that--setting the stage for a chase very reminiscent of those in Lewton pictures like The Cat People.


A creature worth showing!

Night of the Demon was loosely based on M.R. James' short story "Casting the Runes." The witty screenplay was co-authored by Charles Bennett, who worked on early Hitchcock classics like The 39 Steps. He gives McGinnis almost all the good lines. When Karswell finds the skeptical Holden searching his study, the cult leader remarks about Joanna: “At least, she doesn’t have her head in the sand. She believes she can see. She can. She believes that she’s alive. She is. She believes that you will die tomorrow night. You will.”

Indeed, the film’s only weakness may be that Karsell is so much more interesting than Holden. It doesn’t help that Dana Andrews gives a bland performance as the disbelieving hero and the talented Peggy Cummins has very little to do. The film's second best performance is given by screen veteran Athene Seyler, who plays Karswell's mother. Their mother-son relationship is straight out of Hitchcock (who seemed to have a soft spot for his villains' mothers).

Sadly, Night of the Demon would be the last significant film for director Jacques Tourneur. He worked mostly in television in the 1960s, directing episodes of shows like Bonanza, Twilight Zone, and T.H.E. Cat. Still, his final two films weren't without interest: War Gods of the Deep (1965) was a bizarre, entertaining adventure film about an underwater city and The Comedy of Terrors was an amusing trifle written by Richard Matheson and starring Vincent Price, Peter Lorre, Boris Karloff, and Basil Rathbone.

As Tourneur's swansong in the horror genre, he couldn't have done better than Night of the Demon. I've often thought that if Hitch had made a horror film, it might have looked something like Night of the Demon. He probably would have wanted to avoid showing the title creature, too. I’d have to disagree, though, because, in close-up especially, that disagreeable demon is quite chillingly memorable.

Underrated Performer of the Month: Peggy Cummins

Despite her unique combination of sweetness and sex appeal, Welsh actress Peggy Cummins rarely got roles that allowed her to shine. When she got her chance, though, Cummins delivered a sensational performance as sharp-shooting bad girl in the 1949 film noir classic Gun Crazy (aka Deadly Is the Female).

Born Augusta Margaret Diane Fuller in 1925, Peggy Cummins made her film debut in the now-lost 1940 drama Dr. O’Dowd. After appearing with Michael Wilding in the British class satire English Without Tears, Cummins caught the eye of 20th Century-Fox mogul Darryl F. Zanuck.

As part of a much-publicized star search, Zanuck brought her to Hollywood in 1945 to star in Forever Amber. The film, based on Kathleen Winsor’s bestseller, told the story of a beautiful, impoverished young woman who uses men to climb to the top of society in 17th century England. Condemned by the Hays Office before it was even finished, the production of Forever Amber was fraught with problems. Otto Preminger replaced original director John M. Stahl. Zanuck then replaced Peggy Cummins with Linda Darnell. The official reason was that Cummins was “too young” for the part.

After appearing in a string of forgettable films, Cummins starred with John Dahl in the low-budget Gun Crazy. The tale of two young people madly in love with each other—and guns—flopped when originally released. By the 1970s, though, it had become a cult favorite with film noir fans who appreciated the sexual undercurrents and the sizzling chemistry between Cummins and Dahl.

After Gun Crazy, Peggy Cummins returned to Britain and made a handful of pleasant films, one of the best being Always a Bride (1953). She and Ronald Squire played father-daughter con artists out to dupe unsuspecting men on the Riviera. Her most famous film of this period was the horror classic Curse of the Demon (aka Night of the Demon). Although the film justifies its sterling reputation, Cummins’s role is a thankless one as the love interest of Dana Andrews’ investigator of paranormal activities.

Peggy Cummins retired from acting in 1960. She spent most of her time living in Sussex with her husband Derek Dunnett, whom she married in 1950 (she had several well-publicized romances prior to marrying...one beau was allegedly Howard Hughes). She and Dunnett had two children. He died in 2000.

In 2006, when Elstree Film Classics screened Curse of the Demon as of the 50th Town Festival, Peggy Cummins made a rare appearance as the guest of honor. In her review of the festivities “A Night with a Demon,” Katherine Haynes described Peggy Cummins as looking “slim and elegant” and “nowhere near her age.”