It's a Wonderful Afterlife

Now Playing: Beyond Tomorrow (1940)

Pros: Good cast of B-movie veterans; Has its share of genuinely touching moments.
Cons: Tests viewer patience with a naive, pseudo-Horatio Alger storyline.

In 2008, a poll by the Baylor University Institute for Studies of Religion revealed something startling: 55% of the 1700 respondents believed that at some point in their lives, they had been “protected from harm by a guardian angel.” According to Time magazine’s report, this majority belief held up “regardless of denomination, region or education.” (The percentage declined to 37% for those making $150k or more a year - not really a surprise, as many studies have found a strong correlation between lower incomes and religiosity.) 

Perhaps it’s an artifact of a particular time and social climate. In 2008, the nation was on the cusp of the Great Recession and embroiled in a fractious presidential race that was a big, noisy warning of even greater divisions to come. You can forgive people in uncertain times for grabbing any mental lifesavers they can, including the long-shot belief that their as*es just might be saved by a benevolent angel looking down from above.

Maybe it’s time for Baylor to do a follow-up. One wonders if this sort of belief would still hold firm, with church attendance on a steep decline over the past decade. On the other hand, even though the mainstream media keeps braying that the economy has recovered and unemployment is at near-record lows, Americans seem to be jumpy and gloomy and ready to tear into each other at the drop of a hat. More than ever, we could all use a kindly angel to whisper in our ear, if only to persuade us to put down the smartphone for a few minutes.

If these times call for guardian angels, then the 1930s and ‘40s must have required a mass mobilization in Heaven. Predictably, Heavenly guardians and divine intervention figured into more than a few movies of the era. The protagonist of Here Comes Mr. Jordan (1941) is given a new body and sent back to earth after he’s mistakenly called up to Heaven too soon. In A Guy Named Joe (1943), dead pilot turned guardian angel Spencer Tracy looks after fellow pilot Van Johnson even to the point of helping him romance Irene Dunne.

"A word of advice Clarence, when you appear before the House
Un-American Activities Committee, just take the Fifth."

And then of course there’s the most popular guardian angel of them all, Clarence from Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), who earns his wings by showing George Bailey the value of his life. Considering its current iconic status as one of the most popular holiday films of all time, it’s interesting to note that when it was first released, critical reception was mixed, and it actually lost money -- around $500,000 -- for RKO. To add insult to injury, it even attracted unwanted attention from the FBI, which circulated a memo accusing the film of giving aid and comfort to the communists by “attempting to show the people who had money were mean and despicable characters," among other thought crimes. 

In spite of its perceived commie sympathies, It’s a Wonderful Life would eventually earn its wings and take off in the hearts of audiences yearning for a bit of innocent, sentimental nostalgia. It’s perhaps no coincidence that as the country in 2008 entered the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression, reruns of Capra’s ode to small town America were all over TV during the holidays, and Paramount issued a “collector’s edition” DVD set and blu-ray the following year. 

Of course, not every cinematic angel became a super-star like Clarence. Six years before Capra’s novice angel worked his magic, jovial industrialist turned ghost/guardian angel Michael O’Brien (Charles Winninger) would similarly try to save a lost soul from himself in Beyond Tomorrow (1940). Although the film has been a staple of holiday TV for years and has seen a number of home video releases, it hasn’t quite warmed viewers’ hearts to the extent its younger cousin has.

"I've only got a twenty, does anyone have change?"

Beyond opens on Christmas Eve, with wealthy industrialists George Melton (Harry Carey) and Allan Chadwick (C. Aubrey Smith) obliviously working on plans for a new project in the spacious library of their townhouse. Enter jolly old Michael bearing presents and a festive mood in anticipation of a dinner party with invited guests. The household is a relatively large one, with the three wealthy bachelors, Madam Tanya (Maria Ouspenskaya), a Russian countess who fled the communist revolution and who now manages the house for the trio, and a loyal butler, Josef (Alex Melesh).

When the dinner guests cancel at the last moment, Melton, who is a morose cross between Scrooge and Eeyore, is convinced that it’s because of his involvement in a recent scandal (we’re not given details). To cheer everyone up, Michael proposes a fun game of “wallet fishing” (my name for it). The three bachelors each pony up a wallet with a card with their name and address and a $10 bill (the equivalent of around $100 today) in it. From the balcony, they throw the wallets out onto the sidewalk. If anyone returns a wallet, they become an instant dinner guest.

True to form, Melton bets that none of the wallets will be returned. At first it looks like Melton’s pessimism will be confirmed, as a prosperous party girl (we’ll see her later) finds the first wallet and frivolously hands it over to her chauffeur as an impromptu Christmas bonus. But O’Brien is ultimately vindicated, as two honest, not-so-prosperous people show up to return the other two.

Jean patiently waits for slow, awkward James to propose.

Honest citizen #1 is James Houston (Richard Carlson), a cowboy from Texas whose “aw shucks” demeanor and drawl mask a world-class singing voice (which he uses to wow everyone at the last-minute Christmas party). #2 is Jean Lawrence (Jean Parker), a sweet, dedicated caretaker at a local children’s clinic. Both are alone and near destitute in the big city. After the party, the three bachelors practically adopt the two naifs, having a blast bowling with the pair and playing dress-up and parading around with the children at the clinic. Of course, James and Jean fall in love, with James proposing in that stumbling, awkward way so dear to lovers of old Hollywood romances.

Then, tragedy strikes. The three benefactors have to fly out of state to attend to some business. As they board the plane, Madam Tanya has a premonition that something bad will happen and pleads with them to take a train instead. Sure enough, their plane crashes into a mountain, killing all three.

As their friends and compatriots grieve, word gets out that the wealthy men provided a significant financial nest-egg for Jean and James. The newspapers are intrigued by the human interest angle, and as a result of all the attention, James’ singing aspirations are uncovered.

Faster than you can say “American Idol,” the Texan is invited to demonstrate his talents on a nationally syndicated show, meets singing star Arlene Terry (the posh woman who couldn’t be troubled to return the wallet at the beginning of the film; played by Helen Vinson), and is promptly signed up for Terry’s new touring show. Naturally, as his fame and fortune grows, the once awkward country boy gets stars in his eyes and forgets his engagement to poor Jean.

Madam Tanya senses the presence of her ghostly friends.

In the meantime, the ghosts of the three bachelors have convened back home. They seem to be earthbound for some purpose, and can see that things are going south for Jean as James is increasingly seduced by showbiz and the glamorous Arlene. But being incorporeal spirits, they’re not sure what they can do. It’s left to perspicacious Madam Tanya, who senses the spirits’ presence, to advocate for old fashioned virtues in the face of glittery temptations.

It soon appears that the ghosts’ mission has been called off, as one-by-one they’re summoned to their other-worldly destinations. Old curmudgeon Melton is first, and he stoically shuffles off amidst terrifying thunder and lightning -- it seems that the mysterious scandal has earned him a ride on the down escalator. Stiff-upper-lipped Brit Chadwick is the next to go, as his soldier son -- who obviously preceded him in death -- appears and beckons his dad to join him at a heavenly version of the old colonial post where Chadwick spent his happiest years.

Chadwick prepares to join his dead son in reporting
for eternal duty at Shangri-La.

O’Brien is the last spirit standing (floating?) as things start to come to a head for James. The cowboy's glitzy new life has caused him to cross paths with Arlene’s alcoholic, washed-up singer of an ex-husband (who, to add insult to injury, James replaced on Arlene’s show). When the jovial Irishman is suddenly summoned to his final destination, he demurs, insisting that James is in big trouble and needs his help. The summoner tells him that if he doesn’t go, he’ll be earthbound forever. In spite of the consequences, he decides to stay and do what he can as James’ self-appointed guardian angel.

In contrast to It’s a Wonderful Life, with its depictions of malicious, greedy bankers and alternate reality capitalist hell-holes, there is very little in Beyond Tomorrow that J. Edgar Hoover could have objected to. The film’s wealthy businessmen are mostly kind, charitable, and fun to be around. (Melton, with his dark secret, is grumpy and pessimistic, but down deep has a heart of gold.)

The needy characters at the beginning of the film, James and Jean, aren’t resentful of their lot in life. Like 1940s-era Horatio Algers, they don’t look twice and happily seize on the opportunities afforded by their new benefactors. Similarly, Madam Tanya, who left everything behind fleeing Soviet Russia, seems to want nothing more than to run the household for the bachelors.

I can visualize the old, puritanical J. Edgar giving the film a huge red, white and blue seal of approval. And that’s part of the problem. Beyond Tomorrow is filled with such All-American sweetness and light for so much of its running time, that the eyelids start to droop.

"I'm dreaming of a white limo..."

While It’s a Wonderful Life also indulges in gooily sentimental scenes, it at least has a scene-chewing villain in the form of crabby, avaricious Mr. Potter (Lionel Barrymore) to give it an edge that Beyond sorely lacks. Beyond Tomorrow wants us to hiss at star singer Arlene Terry as a hussy and temptress, but she makes a pretty weak villain -- she has no idea James is engaged to Jean, and she has her own cross to bear with an alcoholic ex-husband who can’t let go.

In fact, James is far worthier of the viewer’s ire. Unaccountably, after the benefactors are killed in the plane crash, James moves into their cushy townhouse while Jean continues to stay in her drab room at the clinic. Once his career takes off, he’s too cowardly to tell Jean the marriage is off to her face, sending her lame excuses by telegram instead.

Everyone -- especially guardian ghost O’Brien -- is fretting about how the poor, guileless Texan is being seduced by Terry and showbiz, as if he’s a child with no control over his life. In contrast, George Bailey’s big mistake is a kind of selfless one -- he concludes that everyone will be better off without him.

Like in many movie romances, the lovers themselves are either boring or irritating. Jean wallows in stoic martyrdom while James follows the women in his life around like a puppy dog. It’s the characters around them that propel the action and elicit the smiles. Beyond Tomorrow is redeemed by the rich “uncles,” who, despite being textbook character types -- the sour businessman with a heart of gold; the stiff-upper-lipped Brit; the jovial Irishman -- are fun to watch with their betting, bantering and matchmaking.

Their ultimate fates in the afterlife provide some of the film’s most intriguing moments. At first, when the three gather back home as spirits after the plane crash, it seems clear that they’ve been given a short time on earth to try to save James from himself. But when Melton and Chadwick are called to their final destinations before the mission is completed, we’re left wondering just what their spirits were doing on earth in the first place.

O'Brien is summoned to that great Christmas tree lot in the sky.

Each apparently has a different, personalized eternal fate in store. As the Irishman is summoned, the trees before him light up like a heavenly Christmas theme park, and a bright guiding light shines above. It’s especially poignant when O’Brien forsakes such a beautiful eternity to stay on earth to help James.

When Beyond Tomorrow was released, Harry Carey (Melton) was the biggest name, having picked up an Oscar nomination the year before for a supporting role in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939). He was a huge cowboy star in the silent era, later graduating to more diverse character roles. C. Aubrey Smith (Chadwick) was also very familiar to audiences of the time, having made a career out of playing upper-crust British military men and politicians in such films as The Lives of a Bengal Lancer (1935) and The Four Feathers (1939).

Regular visitors to this blog (you are out there, aren’t you?) are no doubt familiar with Maria Ouspenskaya (Madam Tanya), the sorrowful gypsy woman in The Wolf Man (1941), and Richard Carlson (James), who was everywhere in ‘50s sci-fi. Richard battled the Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954), alerted the world to the existence of aliens in It Came from Outer Space (1953), and even directed and starred in his own space opera, Riders to the Stars (1954).

But Beyond Tomorrow belongs to Charles Winninger as Michael O’Brien, who brings buoyant energy to a somewhat stereotypical role, and provides the film’s most touching moment. His character lays everything, including his own eternal peace, on the line for a friend, and we can’t ask for a better example of the Christmas spirit than that.

Where to find it: See Oldies.com for a number of different DVD editions; it's also streaming for the moment on Amazon Prime.

Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered

Now Playing: Tormented (1960)

Pros: A very quirky, offbeat story for the time period and genre; Stolid B movie leading man Richard Carlson plays against type; A surprisingly good child actress
Cons: Uneven and misused special effects serve to dissipate the spooky atmosphere and tension

A little while back a friend and I were speculating on what new social media application(s) young people will turn to now that their parents and grandparents have invaded Facebook and ruined it for them.  Facebook investors take note: I've been on it for a year or so now, and the surest sign of the decline and fall of a service like this is when old people like me start grudgingly using it.

The mass exodus of the young from Facebook is just another, though potent, indicator of the widening generation gap. (No doubt my use of an old term like "generation gap" only serves to further that gap-- my apologies to anyone under 30 who might have somehow stumbled upon this post!) Obviously, tensions between the young and the old are part of being human, but from my grumpy old man perspective, the divisions have gotten a lot worse.

Those of you who've lived more than a couple of decades may be thinking, how could the generation gap be any wider than it was in the late '60s and early '70s, with hippies and yippies howling at their scowling elders, burning draft cards and bras, turning on to drugs, tuning in, and dropping out?  In contrast to the Vietnam-era generation, today's youth are generally reserved, rule governed, conformist, and materialistic. In 21st century America, what's not to like about that?

Just this: rebellion is still a form, albeit a crude one, of engaging with your perceived adversary. With engagement, there's hope for resolution or at least an uneasy truce. Some rebellion is a good, healthy thing-- testing boundaries is an essential part of the maturing process. But it seems to me that young people today don't rebel in healthy ways. They simply ignore anything and everything that is not an immediate part of their social circle. Nothing interesting happened or was created before they were born. Nothing interesting or creative will happen after they're gone. It's as if we've unleashed an entire generation of mutant Anthony Fremonts who have banished anything that's not all about them -- their age, their interests, their culture -- to the "cornfields" of their minds (The Twilight Zone's "It's a Good Life").

Tom Stewart (Richard Carlson) is bewitched,
bothered and tormented.

But don't take my word for it. The people who create products and services for teens and twenty-somethings know them very well. Take movies (my favorite subject) for example. Have you noticed how adults, not to mention old people, have essentially been banished from most contemporary sci-fi, fantasy and horror films? From Harry Potter to Transformers to Twilight, films aimed at the youth market have either eliminated adult protagonists altogether, or reduced them to the equivalent of the invisible, unintelligible adults who blah, blah, blah with trombone voices in the Charlie Brown animated specials.

It wasn't always so. For every Invasion of the Saucer Men or Giant Gila Monster featuring teen protagonist-heroes, there were at least 2 or 3 sci-fi/fantasy flicks of the '50s and '60s that featured honest-to-goodness adult protagonists, some well into middle age and beyond. Kids flocked to drive-ins and hometown theaters to see these films, and apparently had no problem with significant adult characters.

One very significant adult "character" from 1950s sci-fi was stolid B movie leading man Richard Carlson. He was already in his 40s when he made his first B sci-fi movie, The Magnetic Monster, in 1953 (see the post on this and other Fantastic Faceless Foes of '50s Sci-fi elsewhere on this blog). The classics for which he's known today, It Came From Outer Space and Creature From the Black Lagoon, followed quickly after that (1953 and 1954 respectively). He even found time during that period to direct a sci-fi movie (Riders to the Stars, 1954) and a western (Four Guns to the Border, 1954). Later in the '50s he turned almost exclusively to television, writing and directing as well as acting.

Like his B movie cohorts John Agar and Robert Hutton, Carlson projected a straight-arrow, Dudley Do-Right image in most of his films. He was that square-jawed, intelligent, levelheaded guy you wanted on your side when the chips were down. Almost always. In Tormented, he's a regular, very flawed human being who pays dearly for his indiscretions.

Vi Mason (Juli Reding) confronts her old flame at
the abandoned lighthouse. Watch that handrail!

Carlson plays Tom Stewart, a successful jazz pianist who seems to have it made-- he lives a plush life on a sunny island, and he's about to marry an attractive girl (Meg Hubbard, played by Lugene Sanders) who also happens to come from a wealthy family. There's just one hitch. One of his past flings, the beautiful and buxom Vi Mason (Juli Reding), has tracked him down and wants to resume where they left off. Tom, not wanting to attract the wrong kind of attention, takes Vi to the island's abandoned lighthouse to try to reason with her. Vi's got it bad for Tom-- when he tells her he's getting married, she threatens to send some steamy letters to the bride-to-be. For whatever reason, they've decided to climb all the way to the top of the lighthouse to talk, where Tom catches a "lucky" break. The angry ex-girlfriend leans against an old rusted railing that gives way. As she holds on for dear life to another part of the railing, she pleads for Tom to save her. He leans over, ready to grab her hand, then thinks better of it. Her strength gives out and she falls to her death. Whew, problem solved!!

Well, not quite-- Tom's problems have only just begun. Like the self-obsessed cad he is, Tom tries to tell himself that Vi's death wasn't his fault. But Vi's very active ghost begs to differ. When she told Tom "I'll never leave you, I'll always be with you," she really meant it. Just like a Master Card from Hell, her vengeful spirit starts turning up everywhere Tom wants to be. Walking on the beach, Tom spies her body floating in the surf, picks her up, and carries her onto the beach. As he looks on in horror, the body suddenly morphs into a stinking human-sized pile of seaweed. Later, as Tom and his fiance stroll leisurely along the beach, footprints from an invisible being follow closely behind.

Vi seems to have lost her head over the
suave jazz pianist Tom Stewart.

Tom starts to doubt his sanity as the phantom Vi turns up the heat. As Tom embraces Meg, the smell of Vi's perfume fills the room. Tom's record player starts up all by itself and plays a record of Vi's (she was a singer), even after it's been unplugged. Vi's watch and necklace suddenly show up in the oddest places, while a disembodied hand steals the ring Tom bought for the wedding. Vi's disembodied head floats over the engaged couple in a Polaroid taken at a pre-wedding party.

But Tom's problems aren't all other-worldly. A very corporeal threat in the form of a tugboat captain (Joe Turkel) turns up just before the wedding. Seems he'd been promised money by a beautiful blonde to ferry her over to the island for a visit with a well-known jazz musician. But she hadn't kept her appointment to go back to the mainland, and the boatman knows she didn't take the regular ferry. He puts two and two together, and decides he can make a lot more than just the price of a boat ride off the harried Tom. Big mistake. Tom decides to deal with the blackmailer in the same unsafe lighthouse that took Vi's life, but he just digs a deeper hole for himself. His fiance's little 9 year-old sister Sandy (Susan Gordon) adores Tom, but is concerned about him as he starts losing it from the stress of the hauntings and the blackmail. She follows him to the lighthouse, and sees something she shouldn't… Now Tom's really up the proverbial creek without a paddle. What to do… what to do?!

Susan Gordon as little Sandy is surprisingly good.

Richard Carlson gets big points for playing against the stolid hero type. His role in Tormented is richer and more textured than the characters he played in Creature from the Black Lagoon and It Came from Outer Space. He's a skunk and a murderer, but he also clearly loves his fiance and little Sandy, and is desperate to preserve his future with them. Susan Gordon (daughter of producer-writer-director Bert I. Gordon) is also a delightful surprise-- unlike most child actors of the period, she is natural and engaging, and a real asset to the film. (Sadly, Gordon died of cancer at the age of 62 in December of last year.)

Bert I. Gordon (or Mr. B.I.G.) also gets points for originality. Bert was known for his fixation with all things gigantic (e.g., The Amazing Colossal Man, 1957), so a ghost story was quite a departure for him. In addition to writing, directing and producing, Bert also supervised the special effects for his films. Unfortunately, his penchant for effects serves to subvert the tense, spooky atmosphere of Tormented. Ghosts in the movies are the opposite of children -- they're best heard, not seen (for an absolutely masterful example of how to scare with just sound and suggestion, see Robert Wise's The Haunting, 1963). Vi's ghost is bold, brassy and in-your-face… but not very scary. Bert seems to mistake quantity for quality. He throws every ghostly cliché at the screen -- footprints from an invisible being, disembodied hands and heads, flowers wilting in the ghost's presence, etc., etc. By the time poor Tom holds up Vi's disembodied head as it yells "Tom Stewart killed me!" over and over, we've given up being scared and at best, are mildly curious about what effects stunt Mr. B.I.G. will pull next. (See more about Mr. B.I.G. in my post on The Cyclops.)

Still, what's Halloween without ghosts, however cheesy they may be? Tormented would be a fun, kitschy addition to a ghostly movie marathon with say, The Haunting and The Woman in Black to provide authentic scares. Tormented is available in its entirely on YouTube and the Internet Archive, as well as on DVD from Alpha Video.

"You belong to me Tom... you belong to a ghost!"