I have just returned from one of the first screenings in the Sinatra season, the little-screened 1951 film Meet Danny Wilson (USA, Universal, directed by Joseph Penvey).
In an atmospheric monochrome New York made up of bars, nightclubs, dressing rooms and back alleys, Sinatra’s hustle and swagger gives life to the city around him. He plays cocky, young nightclub singer Danny Wilson. He thinks he’s tough and likes to pick fights, except he always gets beaten. He’s backed by his kindly pianist partner and best friend Mike (Alex Nichol). Having been down-and-out since the end of the war, they are soon offered a job by a local mob boss (Raymond Burr) as long as they give him fifty percent of everything they earn.
Of course since he’s played by Sinatra, Danny has a killer voice. And fortunately he gets many chances to prove it. Singing classic songs such as, ‘That Old Black Magic’, ‘When You’re Smiling’ and ‘All Of Me’ (a particular favourite), Sinatra’s voice is at it’s absolute peak. Whenever Sinatra sings, the story, the characters and the film itself no longer seem to be important. Instead these elements are suspended as we become involved in the pure act of watching Sinatra’s face and listening to his voice: the whole experience becomes solely about him.
The images in this film of Sinatra performing on stage are archetypal of how we have come to know him in this period. Sinatra stands in the spotlight, a grill microphone in front of him, his body taking on postures that have become familiar: a slight arching of his back and cocking of his neck as the delivery of his voice requires. At this stage Sinatra was still very skinny, with his skeletal facial features clearly on show.
One sublime moment finds a depressed and drunk Sinatra in an empty bar room, head down on the bar. A girl, not knowing he’s there, puts a coin in the jukebox, only for it to begin to play Danny’s own recording: ‘When You’re Smiling’.
The plot follows the lead of Sinatra’s own career: a pop sensation followed by a Hollywood career, and is partly interesting for that clear parallel. (Indeed this was the format taken on by many a rock movie. Elvis would take an identical path in Jailhouse Rock.) One scene finds the popular Danny on-stage, the victim of a crowd of screaming and hysterical girls. Recalling the reception of Elvis later that decade, this scene debunks the persistent myth that the teenager (especially the screaming female fanatic kind) was ‘invented’ the day Elvis walked out on stage.
The twist in this movie is that the girl Sinatra is in love with (played by Shelly Winters) does not actually love him back, as would be the case in any other film. She is actually in love with his modest best friend, the supporting player.
It is set in the urban world that was exploited by noir movies, but here the city spaces are not filled with an excess of shadow. But like in noir city movies Burr’s calmly chilling mob character lends the film a lingering threat of violence. The film itself sparkled in a black-and-white print that was full of clarity and depth.
The film is also peppered with references to Hollywood contemporaries: Jeff Chandler, Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, and a brief one-shot, one-line cameo from Tony Curtis (who only the week before I had seen live at that very screen).
One of the first things you learn from watching and studying many films of the past is that the history of film is not set in stone. In many ways people believe that all the greatest films have been discovered and that the book is closed, but I am constantly surprised by those films considered as inbetweeners. There is so much of interest in this film that it could just as well be as revered along with other ‘classic’ films of its day.
The compositions, the performances, the tone and the sharp, punchy story really do rival any other similar films of the period. What this means is: forget everything you know and make up your own mind. There is so much to interest, entertain and enlighten you in hundreds of movies they just never tell you about.
The Classic Film Show 
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May 4, 2008 at 7:09 pm
Jack
Good review. Gave me some insights I might not have had otherwise.
1951 was during Frank’s “wilderness period” when he was actually considered a has been by many. Then, of course came FROM HERE TO ETERNITY, a contract with CAPITOL RECORDS and the rest is history.
One question………do you consider VERTIGO a noir film? It occurred to me that if it is then Hitchcock, by substituting a kind of washed, gauzy color for b&w further cemented his reputation as a master craftsman. Would VERTIGO be as acclaimed today had it been done in b&w? It did have many noirish elements after all. I think that the stylized color was a critical element in insuring its masterpiece stature . Also, the Bernard Hermann score can never be forgotten as a key factor.
May 4, 2008 at 7:34 pm
Christian
Thank you, I really thought the film was superb and would love to find a copy of it. It is hard to imagine the Sinatra’s wilderness period since it came before his work at Capitol – in that case he made it big twice. That career wane is not at all ‘visible’ in Meet Danny Wilson and Sinatra is just as self-assured as usual, and his vocal performances are impeccable.
I have never really thought of Vertigo as a noir, but it is a very interesting question. Of course the film Hitchcock made just before Vertigo, The Wrong Man (1957), was very closely aligned to noir films, but I usually think of the noir cycle as playing out in the 1940s but leaving its mark on certain films of the 1950s.
Vertigo has that element of crime that noirs had, in this case a detective trailing a beautiful woman who would ultimately be his undoing. But I think the use of colour in this film is very important: the darkness of the story is offset, and perhaps even made more disturbing, by the vivid colour of the kind we are used to in musicals and glossy Cinemascope spectacles. Perhaps the underlying passions of Scottie are partly revealed in the heightened colour of the film.
I think colour probably did help its eventual status as ‘masterpiece’. Firstly it may have made the film more accessible to audiences, but also because it seems to split the film in two, providing the viewer with two films at once: a glossy Hollywood romance or a dark, disturbing drama.
It is difficult to imagine Vertigo in black and white, and you can imagine that it would have had a very different effect. And yes it sometimes seems that the Herrmann score ultimately galvanised the themes of the film together, and also gave it that sensual, tempting and mysterious quality that caused the film to get under the skin of so many viewers.
May 5, 2008 at 5:17 pm
Jack
Good comments. I tend to agree with your analysis. Two films in one, dark story offset with visual color. I had not had that concept. Also, a third critical dimension was audial, the Herrmann score. I think you nailed it. This only further exalts Hitchcock’s already lofty reputation.
I don’t think Sinatra ever lost his inner self assurance during that “down” period (roughly the late 1940s, early 1950s). His daughter Tina thought that Ava Gardner “made some phone calls” prior to the FROM HERE TO ETERNITY casting sessions. No horse’s head in a bed, an obvious reference to the Johnny Fontaine episode in THE GODFATHER that everyone thought was somehow based on Sinatra’s “comeback” in 1953. The alleged “mob” connections were a part of the Sinatra mystique and there was probably at least some basis for this as well.
May 5, 2008 at 6:22 pm
Christian
Yes somehow I always connect the Godfather episode with how Sinatra got the part in From Here To Eternity, but have been cautious to believe it. Let me know if there are any Sinatra films you particularly recommend. Today I watched Guys and Dolls (for the first time) which was interesting for the explicitly Broadway elements that ended up on-screen, like the abstract ballet (similar to The Band Wagon or West Side Story), the heavily stylised dialogue, and the end-on, ‘staged’ compositions. I actually performed in Guys and Dolls when I was younger (a small part), which meant that I knew all the songs and lines, but it brought home the fact that they are very difficult songs to sing.
Also let me know which Sinatra albums you would recommend. My particular favourites are ‘Songs for Swingin’ Lovers’ and ‘Swing Easy’.
May 5, 2008 at 9:02 pm
Jack
All Frank’s movies are worth a look. I break them out between the ones in which he sings and those he doesn’t. My personal singing favorites might be Pal Joey and Young at Heart, with Doris Day. My favorite straight acting roles were probably those in From Here to Eternity and Some Came Running.
Both your Sinatra Capitol LP Album selections are very good. I would recommend a further sampling of his career which means some Tommy Dorsey years material, any of the Hollywood stuff available, some on the air radio checks, mostly from the 1940s, songs from his Columbia Records years, particularly the ballads with Axel Stordahl arrangements, then move on to the Capitol theme albums from the 1950s. After that there’s the Reprise (his own label) years, then on into his “Old Blue Eyes” phase and the later material from the final performances. A couple of CDs from each period would be a decent start. You can check the discographies and reviews available on the web for the most recommended selections.
Anyone who can carry a tune and remember their lines while performing on stage gets a well done from me. Afraid I was always restricted to the audience. Believe me, everyone was better off for that.
May 6, 2008 at 8:20 pm
Christian
I like Young at Heart – Sinatra is so serious and brooding in that. One of my favourite moments is when Doris Day is at the beach and one of her sisters is knitting to pass the time. From Here to Eternity is pretty stunning, with the ever-angsty Monty Clift drifting his way through it. It’s a film that seems to boldly tie some pretty big themes and storylines together. Hopefully I’ll be able to catch Some Came Running during the season here in London (of course I’m also a major Dino fan).
I have a lot of Sinatra recordings, and am most familiar in general with the Capitol period, though I know a lot of the songs from Columbia and Reprise periods as well. Which were the Axel Stordahl arrangements? I’ll have to investigate and take a close listen. Thank you very much for your advice, appreciated.
May 6, 2008 at 9:03 pm
Jack
There were numerous Axel arranged numbers backing Sinatra on Columbia. Think strings, oboes, etc., and a lush sentimental romantic sound and that is pretty much Axel. He and Nelson Riddle on Capitol (the Swingin’ Sinatra) were the best in my humble opinion. Will Riddle’s arrangement of “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” ever be topped?
May 6, 2008 at 11:22 pm
Christian
I agree that those Capitol recordings are a real tour de force. Many of Sinatra’s recordings sound like the definitive recording of particular songs (such as I’ve Got You Under My Skin), which is quite an achievement when these standards have such an extensive recording history.