The New Pictures

The Red Pony (Republic), in its original form as a John Steinbeck novelette, described how a sensitive boy on a ranch learned the facts and mysteries of life from the death of his pony and the violent birth of a colt. In the movie version, scripted by Author Steinbeck, many of the facts and most of the mystery have been lost.

Scripter Steinbeck apparently tried to keep his story intact. As in the original, little Tommy Tiflin (Peter Miles) gets his red pony and, with the help of Ranchhand Billy Buck (Robert Mitchum), curries and combs it, breaks it to halter and saddle, dreams of the day he will ride it. When the pony falls sick and wanders off to die, Tommy follows and finds the dead carcass already half-devoured by buzzards. In a rage of grief and terror, he attacks the huge birds with his bare hands, and in a terrifying scene succeeds in killing one of them. This is the only brutal fact-of-life in the whole film. Other unpleasant realities, which gave the original story its point and impact, have been shelved or discreetly shoved just out of camera range.

To pad things out, the script introduces a murky and pointless misunderstanding between Papa and Mama Tiflin (Shepperd Strudwick and Myrna Loy); considerable extra footage for the pioneer reminiscences of Grandpa (Louis Calhern); and frequent symbolical shots of wildlife on the prowl, portentously suggesting that nature (even if it doesn't show on the screen) is really red in tooth & claw.

The padding and pussyfooting do not pay off. The principals are never really convincing and little Peter Miles, who is supposed to have had some pretty rough going by the end of the film, appears to have faced nothing tougher than Director Lewis Milestone's earnest but uninspired direction. Out of all the slushy philosophizing only one hard fact emerges: Hollywood, with Scripter Steinbeck's connivance, has sold Author Steinbeck and his story down the river.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game (MGM) is a lazy Technicolored cinemusical aimed squarely and accurately at the summer box office. Set in the nostalgic days of the modified bustle, its story is wonderfully easy to follow; it involves Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly in a whirl of songs and dances that are easy to forget.

Frankie and Gene are two irresponsible Irish infielders for a major league ball team of 1906 vintage and of a strong Mack Sennett bouquet. They are also accomplished hoofers. Next to baseball they love a broguish lyric and a jig, and are always straying off the diamond into the nearest beer hall. The boys fall out briefly when the team's new owner, K. C. Higgins (Esther Williams), puts on an anachronistic, skintight bathing suit and gets in & out of a swimming pool. But from a handy grandstand the scripters produce a pert little blonde (Betty Garrett, a relative newcomer from Broadway), who promptly sets her feathered bonnet for Frankie.

While the foursome is squaring up the love interest, Sinatra and Kelly get in a lot of pleasant, unpretentious hoofing and harmonizing. Kelly co-authored the story and also helped stage the song & dance routines.

Impact (United Artists) is a rambling melodrama about a business tycoon (Brian Donlevy) who runs away from his wife when she tries to have him murdered. Emotionally shaken, he finds shelter in a small town where a pretty garage owner (Ella Raines) sets him to work mending broken-down jalopies. Tycoon Donlevy, after several reels of this occupational therapy and some incredibly inept dialogue, succeeds in getting back on his feet, but Impact stays just where it was all along--flat on its back.

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