Subjects and film techniques: Joseph H. Lewis | Genuine Detection | Relationships | Goals and Plot Structure | Politics and Economics | Lewis and Murnau | Film Ratings

Feature Films: My Name Is Julia Ross | The Jolson Story | So Dark the Night | The Return of October | The Undercover Man | Gun Crazy | A Lady Without Passport | Retreat, Hell! | The Big Combo | A Lawless Street | 7th Cavalry | The Halliday Brand | Terror in a Texas Town

Early B-Movies: Courage of the West | Singing Outlaw | The Spy Ring | Border Wolves | The Last Stand | Blazing Six Shooters | Texas Stagecoach | The Man from Tumbleweeds | The Return of Wild Bill | Boys of the City | That Gang of Mine | Pride of the Bowery | Invisible Ghost | Criminals Within | Arizona Cyclone | Bombs Over Burma | The Silver Bullet | Boss of Hangtown Mesa | Secrets of a Co-Ed | Minstrel Man | The Falcon in San Francisco

The Rifleman: The Rifleman: An Introduction | Duel of Honor | The Safe Guard | The Pet | Shivaree | The Trade | The Deadly Wait | Boomerang | The Patsy | Eddie's Daughter | Panic | The Letter of the Law | Surveyors | Day of the Hunter | The Visitor | Hero | The Spoiler | Heller | The Deserter | Shotgun Man | The Fourflusher | Hangman | Strange Town | Baranca | The Martinet | Miss Milly | Flowers by the Door | The Actress | Face of Yesterday | The Wyoming Story | Closer Than a Brother | The Prisoner | The Vaqueros | Sheer Terror | The Stand-In | The Journey Back | Honest Abe | The Shattered Idol | Long Gun from Tucson | A Young Man's Fancy | Waste | Death Never Rides Alone | I Take This Woman | Squeeze Play | Suspicion | Sidewinder | And the Devil Makes Five | The Bullet | The Guest | Old Tony

Other TV Shows: The Fat Man | The Hiding Place | The Quality of Mercy | Pompey | The Vindicators | One Killer on Ice | Boots With My Father's Name | Night of the Wolf | The Man from Nowhere

Recommended Reading

Classic Film and Television Home Page

A big Thank You to Aaron Graham and Brandon Bird, for help with researching Lewis' films.

And Special Thanks to Francis M. Nevins, for research and inspiration.

Joseph H. Lewis

Joseph H. Lewis was a Hollywood director, especially of Westerns and thrillers. He made many films for theaters (1937-1958) and US television (1958-1966).

Lewis has two different audiences, which do not overlap much:

A hope of this web-book on Lewis is that it will bring all of his audiences together, and encourage a look at all of his over 100 films.

This web-book begins with what I call an "auteurist checklist", setting forth common themes and techniques in Lewis films. Hopefully, this checklist will form a useful overview of Lewis, for everyone from beginning film lovers new to Lewis, to professional film historians.

Some common subjects and techniques of Joseph H. Lewis films (followed by lists of films that contain them):

Detection and thinking:

Non-conformist Heroes - and bonding with men and women:

Society and economics:

Personal desires - with social consequences:

Plots:

Story telling devices:

Characters:

Food and drink:

Camera Movement:

Staging:

Architecture:

Foreground objects:

Costumes:

These are common characteristics of Lewis, but of course, they are not found in all works. Warning: the above list is sure to be incomplete. I have only seen a portion of Lewis' film and television work.

What is "Genuine Detection"?

The phrase "genuine detection" is regularly used by critics of prose mystery fiction. But it appears less often in film criticism. Since Lewis' films are full of genuine detection (also known as "real detection" or "solid detective work" by mystery writers) it is worth a look.

"Genuine detection" can be defined as mysteries that are solved by investigation, finding evidence, and reasoning about that evidence to reach conclusions, that help solve the mystery. The opposite of genuine detection is when a character discovers the truth though dumb luck, chance, coincidence, or making a lucky guess out of the blue.

Most mystery writers and readers believe that books that show genuine detection are good; books that lack it are poor (all other factors being equal, of course).

Lewis regularly structures plot developments, so that his characters learn new things, through a process of real detection.

Pompey (1964) centers on a runaway slave's encounter with Daniel Boone, in Revolutionary War era America. How does Daniel Boone first encounter the escaped slave? Through genuine detection. Daniel is in Salem, North Carolina, when he and his friend discover that sometone has stolen blacksmith's tools from their supply wagon. Why, Boone's best friend asks, would anyone steal a blacksmith's chisel, when they could have stolen a much more valuable rifle from their supplies? At first the men are puzzled by the mystery. But Daniel gets an idea. He has seen Wanted posters around the city, about an escaped slave who still has a chain around his ankle. Daniel reasons that the thief is probably the ex-slave, who needs the chisel to remove the chain. Next, Daniel uses his woodsman's tracking skills, to follow the trail of footprints the thief has left in the forest. After a detailed, step-by-step demonstration of these skills, Daniel and his friend finally catch up with the escaped slave in the forest. This whole process is "genuine detection" using reasoning from evidence to solve a mystery.

Few other film directors would structure a story this way. It would be more common for the escaped slave to be encountered by Daniel through sheer coincidence. Ol' Dan could be stopping by a brook in Kentucky to water his horse, and he could suddenly trip over the foot of an escaped slave, thus setting the plot in motion.

In Pride of the Bowery (1941), Mugs is taking the rap for a crime committed by a friend. Mugs does not believe in squealing on others, to defend himself. When I saw this film, I expected one of two things might happen. One: Mugs would decide that being a stool pigeon was good after all, and speak up. Or Two: Maybe the authorities would stumble, through chance, on the real crook committing the thefts. But neither of these events happen. Instead, Mugs' friend Danny finds some evidence, and he starts reasoning out from it that Mugs is covering something up. Danny's shrewd, clever deductions finally allow truth to come out. Once again, Lewis has structured his plot so that truth is revealed through genuine detection (Danny's reasoning), rather than through the chance of an accidental discovery, or the deus ex machina of a confession.

Real detection is hard work. The sleuth has to investigate, find all the evidence they can, and use their reasoning powers to the utmost to deduce a conclusion. In Lewis, finding truth is hard work, a slow difficult process. This is not because Lewis is cynical about truth. Rather, it is because he believes that truth, like all good things in life, is only produced by hard work and using our brains.

Authors that stress real detection often show it leading first to false or only partially true conclusions, before further hard work of detection leads to the real truth. See E.C. Bentley's Trent's Last Case (1913) or Ellery Queen's The Greek Coffin Mystery (1932), for some famous prose mystery examples. Lewis follows this paradigm. In his films, detectives can work and work, only to reach conclusions that are mistakes. In Lewis' The Big Combo, hero Lt. Diamond's sleuthing leads him to some conclusions half way though the film about Alicia. Further hard sleuthing eventually shows him his ideas were completely wrong! This is not a criticism of any sort by Lewis of Diamond, who is the hero of the movie. Rather, it is a realistic account of what real sleuthing and thinking are like. One has to work and work and go through false answers, before one can find the truth.

Lewis' films and Sexual Orientation

Lewis became famous among cinephiles for Gun Crazy, perhaps the most admired and most delirious portrait of sexual obsession and l'amour fou (mad love) in the history of the cinema. The couple in Gun Crazy are heterosexual - they are even married.

Lewis' other most famous film, The Big Combo, also has a heroine who has a sexual obsession for the gangster villain, including the only scene in studio-era Hollywood history of oral sex. It also has one of the few gay couples in Hollywood history, the hitmen Fante and Mingo. Despite their being villains, Fante and Mingo are oddly sympathetic, and have been called the most likable persons in the movie.

Some of Lewis' early B-movies, also have respectable characters who develop heterosexual-but-forbidden sexual relationships with lower class characters, such as the rich girl in Secrets of a Co-Ed with the mobster boyfriend, and the engineer who is sleeping with the maid in Invisible Ghost.

People who turn from these films to Lewis' episodes of The Rifleman are in for a surprise. The hero of the show, Lucas McCain, is often most gung ho when bonding with other men. Lucas has a special feeling for social outsiders. He develops a personal bond with them, and also stands up for their rights, in shows that preach liberal social values. The male bonding shows up most strongly in Duel of Honor, Shivaree, Hero, The Deserter, Strange Town, Baranca, Closer Than a Brother, The Journey Back, Honest Abe, Death Never Rides Alone, The Bullet. It is present throughout much of The Rifleman, in a lower grade intensity. Lucas sums up his feelings by quoting Proverbs 18:24, "There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother", in the episode Closer Than a Brother.

In addition, Lucas develops what seems to be similar bonding with a series of dance hall women, in the episodes Eddie's Daughter, The Wyoming Story, The Vaqueros. Like Lucas' male friends, these women are social outsiders. The detective hero of The Big Combo has a similar relationship with showgirl Rita, and one of Lewis last TV shows, The Big Valley episode Night of the Wolf, also centers on such a relationship.

Lucas' relations with his men friends are intimate and emotionally intense. It would be easy to call these relationships homosexual love stories. But is this accurate? Such a label runs into the usual roadblocks. None of the films show or hint that the men friends are having sex with the hero. By contrast, in The Big Combo, Fante and Mingo are strongly indicated to be having sex, since we see them as roommates, shown sleeping together at night in a common bedroom. Nor does the dialogue of the Rifleman shows ever refer to any sort of physical attraction.

In addition, while Lucas had no steady girlfriends in the first two seasons of The Rifleman, the producers introduced girlfriend characters in the last three seasons to "humanize" him, as the show's publicity put it. Angry queer theorists might describe this as "heterosexualizing" Lucas, instead. While Joseph H. Lewis actually directed the episode that introduced Miss Milly, this show and the other shows directed by Lewis mainly avoided showing much of Lucas' romance with these women.

On the other hand, the imagery of The Rifleman shows about Lucas and his male friends is often intensely physical, of a kind that can legitimately be labeled as "homoerotic". Watching Lucas slug it out with the lead of Baranca, do full contact wrestling with the lead of Honest Abe, or share a hotel room with the lead of Duel of Honor, suggests strong homosexual feelings that have evaded the censors of 1960. Combined with the strong portrait of friendship, works like Baranca and Duel of Honor do indeed seem like gay love stories.

Where does all this leave us? Lewis is a director who spent much of his career focusing on transgressive romantic relationships, whether these are forbidden heterosexual alliances, or tales of male bonding. His work does not fit easily into any categories known to me. Lewis is the director of both Gun Crazy and Duel of Honor. Trying to make his work as a whole align neatly with either heterosexual or homosexual norms is going to be difficult.

Plot Structure and romance

Fritz Lang pointed out to Peter Bogdanovich that M (1931) was one of the few movies that did not have a romance. Observations about the ubiquity of romance in Hollywood films are a truism.

Film historian David Bordwell built on such observations, to point out that most traditional Hollywood feature films have a dual plot structure. Hollywood films almost always have a main plot, and a separate subplot in which the hero and heroine have a romance. For example, a whodunit might have a main plot, in which a cop tries to figure out who committed a murder, and a subplot in which the cop and a woman reporter fall in love. These plots can interact, of course: the reporter heroine might share what she knows about the mystery with the policeman hero, during one of their love scenes, say. Still, the two-plot structure is a norm in Hollywood feature filmmaking.

How does the cinema of Joseph H. Lewis fit into these norms? Many of his features fit clearly. The Big Combo has a main plot in which the hero tries to bring down a mobster, and the subplot in which he romances Susan. A Lawless Street has a similar two-plot structure. Lewis' early Bob Baker and Charles Starrett Westerns, have subplots in which the hero has romance with a woman.

But some of his B-movies, especially, evade such a structure. They use a variety of strategies:

A few of Lewis' Rifleman episodes have a main plot / romance subplot structure. In Sheer Terror, Milly is held hostage by robbers who plan to rob the stagecoach; in a subplot, she and hero Lucas have a simple romance.

But most Lewis Rifleman episodes do not have any sort of heterosexual romance subplot. The shows are only 25 minutes long, and one could argue that there is too little time to fit a love story into each episode. Also, love stories in Hollywood feature films often tend to imply marriage will soon follow the conclusion of the picture. The producers of The Rifleman had no intention of marrying their hero off. They wanted him to be in the same single state in each episode.

I do not know what a systematic study of series television shows would conclude about the presence or absence of romance subplots, as a norm. There is a good doctoral dissertation in this, for somebody!

But what is notable is that such Rifleman shows as Duel of Honor, The Deserter, Baranca, Closer Than a Brother, have both a main plot, and a male bonding subplot. In the main plot of Duel of Honor, the visiting Count has to deal with local bullies; in the subplot, Lucas and the Count male bond. The male bonding in Duel of Honor, has the exact same role in the plot structure of Duel of Honor, that heterosexual romance has in a typical Hollywood feature. This is another reason to consider Duel of Honor a gay love story. Its male-bonding plays the same structural role that straight love does in a conventional movie.

Goals - and Plot Structure

David Bordwell sets forth his ideas on narrative structure, in his book Narration in the Fiction Film (1985). I've been trying to compare what he describes as norms of Hollywood narration, with Lewis' films.

One of Bordwell's key assertions is: "The Classical Hollywood film presents psychologically determined individuals who struggle to solve a clear cut problem or to attain specific goals....The story ends with a decisive victory or defeat, a resolution of the problem, and a clear achievement or nonachievement of the goals."

Trying to find such goals in many of Lewis' films can be difficult. The heroes of his detective stories such as The Undercover Man, The Big Combo and The Bullet have clear goals: find evidence that will allow the killer to be convicted. And the heroes of Border Wolves, My Name Is Julia Ross and The Stand-In are trying to escape from the false identities that have been imposed on them: also a clear problem. But quite a few of Lewis' other films do not seem to open with a clear cut goal, that is resolved at the end. What is the goal in Duel of Honor, Shivaree, or Gun Crazy?

(It is important not to read such a statement as a disagreement with Bordwell. Bordwell's neo-formalism asserts that there are group norms that appear in art movements, such as the Classical Hollywood film, and that there will be artists or groups of artists who violate or bend such norms. So the appearance of a filmmaker like Lewis who violates a norm is to be expected, and is consistent with Bordwell's ideas.

Which brings up the Big Disclaimer. I am not in a position to evaluate whether "most 1915-1965 Hollywood films have protagonists with goals". It is easy to see that a LOT of Hollywood films have such protagonists with goals. So looking at "whether a film has a protagonist with a goal" is a worthwhile research question to ask. But I don't know whether it is true that MOST or nearly all Hollywood films have "heroes with clear cut problems" - or what patterns of exceptions exist to this proposed norm.)

Subjects - rather than goals. Films like Duel of Honor and Gun Crazy have subjects, rather than clear cut goals. In Duel of Honor, the subject is "how society treats, and should treat, people who are different - especially people who seem gay". In Gun Crazy, the subject is "a couple who are obsessed with guns, and where this leads them". Duel of Honor and Gun Crazy are focused clearly and firmly on these subjects. But it is hard to translate such subjects into goals for the protagonists.

Films like Shivaree push this approach to a greater extreme. Shivaree deals with "the difficult transition to adulthood, and mistreatment by grownups" - a big diverse subject that is hard to summarize as some sort of goal.

Films About Everything. Some Lewis films have so many apparent subjects, that it is hard even to describe in one sentence what they are about: Pride of the Bowery, Invisible Ghost, So Dark the Night, Old Tony. I can't tell you who the protagonist of Old Tony is, let alone whether he has a goal.

The Complex Resolution. Lewis' films about young men who raise race horses, That Gang of Mine and The Fourflusher, open with seemingly clear cut goals for their protagonists: the young man wants to win the Big Race riding the horse he is raising. A thousand sports films have similar goals. However, the resolution of these films surprise. The hero neither succeeds nor fails at his goal. Instead, ingenious plot twists move the story in unexpected directions. There is nothing modernist about all of this: the plot is fully and clearly resolved. Lewis' message seems to be: life is more complicated than we originally thought - and we have to modify our plans as we grow up. Lewis' polo movie The Spy Ring, similar in many ways to his horse racing films, also subverts its Winning the Big Game goal through plot twists.

A Mysterious Protagonist. We don't learn till around two thirds of the way through Face of Yesterday, Closer Than a Brother, The Journey Back or The Vindicators what the protagonist knows, or what his goals are. The hero of The Vindicators turns out to have a clear cut goal; the other protagonists are faced with difficult situations in which it is difficult to formulate clear goals.

Multiple Protagonists. Gun Crazy has a couple as the leading characters. The scenes are often structured to show the man's point of view - but both characters are prominent throughout most of the film. Similarly, Retreat, Hell! starts out as if Richard Carlson will be the hero, but Russ Tamblyn and Frank Lovejoy soon get equal weight. The Rifleman is structured to have two protagonists, rancher Lucas and his son Mark. Several of Lewis' episodes have both characters involved in the same storyline - but with differing points of view on how to interpret events and judge the issues they are seeing. Examples include Surveyors, Day of the Hunter, Hero, The Deserter, Shotgun Man, The Fourflusher, all from the second season of the show.

The Erupting Plot Event. Plot events often erupt suddenly in Lewis films. In Gun Crazy, the hero is visiting a carnival for fun, when a chance encounter with a female shootist triggers overwhelming sexual excitement, and a lifelong commitment. Lewis has carefully foreshadowed this - much of the early part of the film presents the hero's obsession with guns. But this is the first indication such interest could be sexual. It is not a "goal": it is something that erupts from his subconscious, and which suddenly drives the story. Lewis' films are full of forbidden sexuality, that often seems to erupt. Such sexuality is not linked to a goal that opens the story. Gun Crazy was apparently first discovered as a classic by French surrealist Ado Kyrou, who wrote about Gun Crazy in his book Le Surréalisme au cinéma (1953). Surrealism, which celebrates the eruption of unconscious drives, is deeply in tune with Lewis' delirious treatment of sexual impulses.

However, it is not only sexuality that suddenly erupts in Lewis. It is also politics. The hero is suddenly confronted at the end of Shivaree with a choice between violence to solve problems, and non-violence. This is a political decision, related to Lewis' consistent support in his films for the non-violence of Gandhi and Martin Luther King. Once again, this political conflict was:

Political issues mushroom up in the later sections of other Lewis films, such as The Silver Bullet, A Lawless Street, Day of the Hunter, The Deserter, Pompey. They are foreshadowed by Lewis, but do not seem to be set forth as an initial problem. These political conflicts are not dry - they are as dramatic, unexpected, and emotionally disorienting as the eruptions of sexuality.

Resolving the political conflict is often the climax of the story. This is just as dramatic and definitive as any other Hollywood climax. But it does NOT resolve a problem stated at the opening of the film.

A Lawless Street opens with a seeming goal: the Marshal hero (Randolph Scott) has to deal with outlaws in his Western town, including the one that rides into town in the opening shot. But half way through the movie, there is a violent coup, and the town government is taken over by bad guys, who institute a reign of terror. Now the hero has to deal with something that goes far beyond his original problem or goal. It is linked to his original goal: preserving law and order in town. But the story now has a political dimension that goes far beyond what we thought was happening in the opening scenes.

The unexplained causes of urges. Lewis characters often have strong enthusiasms for something. Sometimes it is for some form of sexuality. Sometimes this seems like a non-sexual emotion, such as their liking for coffee and pie, or the young people in Lewis who love raising and racing horses. Other times, it is not given an explicit sexual link, but one suspects sex might be present, such as the enthusiasm for boots or uniforms. Few of these urges are "explained" psychologically: they are just there, powerful and driving.

Not an Art Film. Lewis films also have lots of plot, and the plot typically follows a logical chain of cause and effect throughout the film (even the surprising sexual or political events are logically foreshadowed). And although Lewis characters' sexual obsessions are not explained in Freudian or other terms, the audience usually has a clear, complete explanation of most other aspects of the film by the end. All of these are Hollywood norms, according to Bordwell. So Lewis' films are closer to Hollywood than to 1960's art films. Lewis is far from being a "modernist who de-emphasizes plot, stripping it of logical causality", some of Bordwell's main characteristics for art films (such as those by Fellini, Antonioni, Resnais, etc.).

Lewis: Politics and Economics

Many of Lewis' films contain political, social and economic commentary. Lewis can certainly be considered as a "socially conscious" director.

But nailing down Lewis' political beliefs, as expressed in the films, can be difficult. Films are works of art, and it can be difficult to align them with political ideas. But my best guess is that Lewis' films reflect:

Lewis is certainly left-of-center. The sinister conspiracies by the rich to steal ordinary people's property in many Lewis films make that clear. Lewis would choke on the belief of many contemporary conservatives that rich people are a benevolent force, whose financial actions usually benefit the average person. Lewis' concern for the victims of war is also in direct opposition to the pro-war views of many contemporary conservatives, with their nauseating "give war a chance" propaganda. The consistent support for racial minorities in Lewis' films, made during the Civil Rights era, is a further strong indication of Lewis' left-of-center views. The pro-gay subtext running through Lewis, and his support for working women, also places Lewis in opposition to conservative points of view.

But within the left-of-center political continuum, where does Lewis stand on economic issues? Is he a liberal, a democratic socialist, an anarchist or a Communist?

I frankly don't know. But so far, I have not seen any conclusive evidence that Lewis is any more left-of-center than being a liberal. I see little evidence that Lewis films support socialism, anarchism or Communism. Instead, Lewis seems like a liberal.

The one real life historical figure that appears in Lewis' films, Mark Twain in Shattered Idol, was a staunch liberal, but not a political radical.

The Conspiracy Films. The biggest difficulty in interpreting Lewis' economics, is ascribing a real-world political meaning to Lewis' Westerns about sinister conspiracies of the rich and powerful to take over or destroy the property of others. It is easy to say that the villains in these films are financiers, speculators, crooked bankers and the big rich. Maybe one can even say they are "capitalists". But do these films constitute a denunciation of capitalism as an economic system, as some critics have said? I have my doubts.

One problem is that the victims in these films are ALSO businessmen, usually. And they and their businesses are treated sympathetically:

In other words, Lewis films like some capitalists, like ranchers, small businessmen and telegraph companies, but find big-money capitalists sinister and evil.

This point of view is also expressed by a work that is not a conspiracy film: The Silver Bullet. The Silver Bullet is about an election, in which one side represents the "big money interests", and the other side "the small ranchers", to quote the film's dialogue. One might also note Lewis' support for the small bank and its banker in The Safe Guard and Boomerang. He is treated with the sympathy Lewis extends to other small businessmen.

An exchange in Squeeze Play might also be relevant. The big-time financier who is trying to buy up hero Lucas McCain's land tells Lucas that, after all, both of them are just landowners. Lucas disagrees. I actually work my land, Lucas says, but you buy up land just to speculate with it.

A deep suspicion about big-money financiers was shared by liberals, anarchists, socialists and Communists. Lewis' views on the subject do not indicate specifically to which such group he adheres. Lewis' support for small businessmen, even well-to-do ones like bankers and wealthy ranchers, suggests that he is a liberal, not a socialist, anarchist or Communist.

The above discussion perhaps distorts the politics of Terror in a Texas Town. Terror in a Texas Town is clearly the most "radical" of Lewis' conspiracy films. Its rancher victims are the poorest in Lewis. And its villain is not just a financier: he also owns the town hotel, and is constantly referred to in the film as a "businessman". So the film has an "evil businessman oppressing the poor" theme. Still, its plot centers on supporting the small ranchers' claims to their property, which the villain is trying to take away from them through legal swindles. So Terror in a Texas Town is a film in favor of Private Property. And its small landowner heroes are exactly the sort of folks that Stalin would treat as Enemies of the State during his forced collectivization of farms, and who Mao would target during the Great Leap Forward. So it is also hard to see how Terror in a Texas Town can be read as a Marxist tract, however sinister its portrait of big businessmen.

A Lack of Alternative Economics. So far I have not been able to find any labor unions in Lewis films. Or any cooperative-run business enterprises. While I have not been able to see all of Lewis' films, so far there are no alternative economic models in any of them: no labor unions, cooperatives, social security or welfare systems. One exception: Lewis likes the jobs the New Deal provided for the unemployed, in the Civilian Conservation Corps in Pride of the Bowery.

Lewis told Francis M. Nevins that his father and uncles were Jews who had to flee Russia, due to their Socialist politics. And that his parents' apartment building was one of the first cooperatives in New York City. So Lewis was well aware of economic alternatives. They just don't seem to appear in his films. This is a another reason to feel skeptical that Lewis films in any way advocate socialism, anarchism or Communism. These economic doctrines just don't appear in Lewis films.

Public Works. Lewis glorified the road-building US Government-run Civilian Conservation Corps in Pride of the Bowery, part of Roosevelt's New Deal. And the road-building by the Chinese people in Bombs Over Burma. Bombs Over Burma also has a school teacher heroine, the grandmother in The Undercover Man pays tribute to the free schools in America, and there is a brief, neutral depiction of an American public school in Gun Crazy. The political dispute in The Silver Bullet is about water rights and building a dam. So Lewis was supportive of government programs. Belief that government should support public infrastructure like roads or water was a liberal crusade in that era. See the Tennessee Valley Authority, for instance, which was championed by liberals, and loathed by conservatives.

Lewis: a pro-religion director. Lewis' consistent support for ministers, monks and priests also separates him from Communists, who typically loathe religion. One can compare the admirable Buddhist monk in Bombs Over Burma, and the Taoist priest in Night of the Wolf, with a Communist film like Pudovkin's Storm Over Asia, which portrays Buddhist priests as human swine. The opposition to the evil businessman in Terror in a Texas Town meets in the local church, presided over by the town's sympathetic minister.

Lewis and Murnau's Sunrise

A number of features in Lewis recall the famous film Sunrise (F. W. Murnau, 1927): Lewis was already working in Hollywood, when Sunrise was made (he arrived in Hollywood around 1924, when he was around 17). Sunrise was hugely influential on many people in Hollywood. It might well have impressed the 20 year old Lewis. See Tag Gallagher's book John Ford: The Man and His Movies (1986) for a discussion of the influence of Murnau and Sunrise on John Ford and Frank Borzage (pp 49-54). For a look at Murnau's The Last Laugh and its influence on a wide range of world filmmakers, see Lutz Bacher's book The Mobile Mise-En-Scène: A Critical Analysis of the Theory and Practice of Long-Take Camera Movement in the Narrative Film (1978).

Lewis and early John Ford

Hangman's House (John Ford, 1928) is said to be influenced by Murnau. It has a few features that anticipate Lewis - but the connections are not too close: Hangman's House is full of mental imagery - mainly seen in the fireplace. Such mental imagery is common in Sunrise. But it is rare in Lewis: the only mental image I can recall in Lewis is the vision of the Sergeant in the champagne glass in The Spy Ring. The vision in the window at the finale of So Dark the Night might also qualify - but it is different and innovative.

Godard and Lewis

In his article on Lewis, Robert Keser speculates that Gun Crazy influenced Jean-Luc Godard's Pierrot le fou (1965).

The circular tracking shot around the farm courtyard in Godard's Weekend (1967) resembles Lewis:

All of this could well be a coincidence. But this shot definitely would fit in with Lewis' work.

Rating Lewis films

In his book on Lewis, Francis M. Nevins justly complains that most film historians are only looking at Lewis feature films made in 1945-1958, and that they are ignoring his early B-movies and later television work.

Lewis made more films for television than he did for theaters. Lewis' television films are among his finest works. Lewis becomes a vastly more interesting filmmaker, when one starts looking at his 100+ films as a whole, rather than just the 16 theatrical features from My Name Is Julia Ross (1945) to Terror in a Texas Town (1958). (One cannot give an exact count of the films Lewis directed. Lewis' filmography still has gaps: there might well be television films directed by Lewis not known.)

Here are my ratings for the Joseph H. Lewis films I have seen. The ratings go from **** (best) to "no stars" (a bomb). Anything with at least **1/2 is recommended viewing.

Early B-Movies:

Features:

The Rifleman:

Other TV Shows:

All ratings have their arbitrary side, and most Lewis films have interesting shots or scenes.

Most of the assertions in this Lewis book are assertions of fact, or of fairly low-level categorization (this shot is a lateral track with foreground objects, this scene shows one of Lewis' duels with strange weapons, this background is full of peaked roofs, the hero and his friend male bond). Readers can judge the truth or falsity of such statements by comparing them to the films themselves. Because of this, I hope that most of the contents of this book can be considered as knowledge: ideas that are backed up by solid evidence.

By contrast, ratings are far more vague. The above ratings don't explain what factors caused me to give one film a high rank, and another a low one. And many readers would use other criteria than I did, anyway, to rank Lewis' films.

Because of this, it is not really clear that the above ratings have the slightest value, accuracy, or any real informational content.

I am including these rankings, despite this, for two reasons:


My Name Is Julia Ross

Hostages

My Name Is Julia Ross (1945) is the B-movie thriller that made Lewis' reputation. It is the archetypal Lewis film about people held hostage, often in a home. Lewis would also deal with this subject in The Falcon in San Francisco and The Big Combo, and in The Rifleman episodes Shivaree, The Patsy, The Spoiler, The Prisoner, The Stand-In, Sheer Terror and I Take This Woman. Note how often the hostage character is in the title of these Lewis films. Here the hostage is a woman, but both men and women become hostages to bad guys in Lewis. The bad guys try to coerce the hostage heroine of My Name Is Julia Ross into a new identity: a similar plot gambit will occur in The Stand-In. The villain of My Name Is Julia Ross keeps falsely telling the heroine that he is her husband. This is a bit similar to I Take This Woman, whose villain keeps telling the captive heroine that he is going to be her future husband.

In Lewis, the hostage taking is often a component of a larger scheme, one that illegally benefits the villain. This is true in My Name Is Julia Ross. It is not a direct attempt to brutalize another person. The villain of My Name Is Julia Ross married his first wife for her money, a motive that will return in I Take This Woman. There is a feminist dimension here, showing male exploitation of women.

The villain in My Name Is Julia Ross is a suave, soft-spoken sophisticated man. Such suave villains are typical in Lewis. The bad guys also have two servants to carry out their orders. Here the servants are a man and a woman, rather than the two men that are most typical in Lewis. The servants also preserve a certain British gentility; more often, Lewis henchmen will be thug-like. So we are close in My Name Is Julia Ross to Lewis' paradigm for villains, without being entirely there.

Links to other films: Rebecca and Gaslight

My Name Is Julia Ross has plot elements that recall two giant hits of its day: Rebecca (Alfred Hitchcock, 1940) and Gaslight (George Cukor, 1944). Like Rebecca, it takes place in a gigantic old mansion in an isolated part of the seacoast of Cornwall; it has a middle class heroine much bullied by a whole houseful of representatives of old money; a heroine who is trapped in the role of a previous mistress of the family; and monograms of the previous woman are everywhere.

Like Gaslight, we have a suave, sinister man bullying a woman, at home. We also have a conspiracy by that man to create sinister illusions. However, the villain of Gaslight is trying to drive his wife mad, while the villain of My Name Is Julia Ross is mainly trying to delude other people. There are signs near the beginning that he is trying to delude the heroine, as well, but this plot soon vanishes with the heroine's forthright refusal to be fooled.

My Name Is Julia Ross is based on Anthony Gilbert's mystery novel The Woman in Red (1941). "Anthony Gilbert" was the masculine pseudonym of the prolific British woman mystery author Lucy Beatrice Malleson. The Woman in Red is one of a series of prose mystery thrillers of the era that dealt with an "innocent young woman forced into a new identity": see Helen McCloy's The Dance of Death (1938), and Rufus King's Design in Evil (1942).

Detection

Detective work is done throughout My Name Is Julia Ross by the good guys. Such detection is a Lewis tradition. The heroine, her boyfriend, and unexpectedly, her landlady, all do detective work throughout the film. As is typical in Lewis, the detection involves hard thinking that advances truth by small steps. People have to keep battering away, making very deep efforts, to get close to the truth.

Sleuthing by the heroine uncovers more and more of the hidden personal lives of the characters. She gradually learns the back story of the villains and the villain's wife. Personal information about the characters is also the subject of ongoing revelation in The Falcon in San Francisco, The Big Combo and A Lawless Street.

Strong Women

The women in My Name Is Julia Ross are far more effective then the men. The villain's mother is far more formidable than the villain. Everything successful about the crime scheme comes from her. The detective work done by the heroine, and later by her landlady, is always effective, whereas the hero's sleuthing always comes to a dead end. And the heroine escapes by her own efforts, although there is a coda where she is partly rescued by male policemen, preserving sexist clichés of the day of "women rescued by men".

Conventional Thinking

Everyone is the village is easily convinced that the heroine is crazy. It is not true. But despite all her efforts to convince people otherwise, no one in the village ever budges an inch in this popular conviction.

Lewis films frequently criticize people who engage in conventional ideas. Heroes are often people who defy such ideas, and who think differently from the crowd. Examples include The Rifleman episodes Duel of Honor, Shivaree, Eddie's Daughter, Panic, Hero, The Deserter, Strange Town and The Bullet.

The vicar is part of this conventional thinking - and criticized for it implicitly by the film. He is a contrast to later, sympathetic clergymen: the minister in The Rifleman episode The Martinet, the Taoist priest in The Big Valley episode Night of the Wolf (1965). Both of these later clergymen are without permanent assignments, while the vicar is deeply established in the "proper" social life of the town.

In My Name Is Julia Ross, conventional thinking is not linked to any political issues. In some of Lewis' later work, conventional thinking often involves rejection of outsiders. And its criticism becomes politically charged: conventional, conformist thought is linked to rejection of minority groups by bigots, and people with original ideas by the small minded.

Knives vs. Guns

The villain is obsessed with knives. These are the creepiest scenes in the movie: this guy is clearly one sick puppy.

Many Lewis films, such as the famous Gun Crazy, deal with men who get pulled into the "gun cult": an obsessive interest in the world of guns. The villain's knife fetish here has something of the same effect. There are some differences, however. Gun "culture" is a whole organized world, a subculture to which people can be drawn. Macready's knife fascination has no such social organization. It is just one man, and his interest in sharp objects.

When the mirror is shattered, the villain picks up one of the sharp pieces. The villain also stands next to the shattered mirror in Gun Crazy.

The Opening

The film opens in a rain storm. The heroine slowly moves from the front of the image to the far rear: a Lewis trademark. She then moves up some small steps, and we have a new shot, with the camera moving with her, typical of Lewis' love of staircases. Next comes a shot that moves from outside to inside: common in Lewis. It moves through a pair of doors: almost like the swinging doors Lewis loves.

The entrance hall, with the steps going up on the right, is a bit like the one in Invisible Ghost. The rain also recalls that earlier film.

The square is seen in a shot, that contains a close-up of a street light on its right. Such geometric lights and lanterns run through Lewis.

At the house in the square, we see the hero through some grillwork on the door. This recalls the shots through the grillwork in the monastery door in Bombs Over Burma. The tracking shot that shows the hero walking behind the metal fence is also notable.

The lamp with a circle of hanging prisms is similar to one that will return in Old Tony.

White and Black clothes

The heroine frequently dresses in white. Lewis has men who are non-conformists and individualists in white clothes. The heroine here has to struggle against social opinion that she is crazy, so she perhaps has a bit in common with other Lewis nonconformists.

Macready's shiny black dressing gown makes him one of many Lewis villains dressed in black. He also frequently changes his clothes, something associated with Lewis crooks and bad guys.

The Village

We only get a glimpse of the village. It is hardly one of Lewis' cities. Yet, its geography is similar to that of several Western towns in Lewis work: one street goes off in the distance, straight back from the viewer and the camera, and a second street goes to the right, perpendicular to the receding street. This is the same street layout as Boss of Hangtown Mesa and The Wyoming Story.

The opening shot of the village is through a store window. This anticipates the opening of Gun Crazy.

The Cliff Scene: Staging

The cliff scene opens with a dissolve, to a shot in which the villain and heroine are walking down a path. The slant of the path is one of many indoor and outdoor diagonal ramps or paths: many of the interior scenes are centered around the huge staircase in the mansion. Foliage is in front of the characters as they walk: the "foreground objects" that Lewis loves. When they reach the bottom of the path, in front of the cliff rail, there is a cut.

What follows is a long take dialogue shot. During this shot, the actors sometimes face and sometimes turn away from the camera. As is often the case in Lewis, he keeps the camera going, allowing characters to speak while their back is turned to the camera. Such as strategy, a bit heretical in Hollywood, allows Lewis to preserve his long takes in dialogue scenes, rather than breaking up shots to show first one character, then another.

During most of the dialogue shot, the actors keep turning around, and changing the direction they are facing. But they almost always are either:

Such