Virginia Belmont (Monogram westerns & Dangers of the Canadian Mounted)

Nee Virginia Schupp and originally from Boston (born 1921), San Diego-raised Virginia Belmont was a cigarette girl at famed Hollywood nitery The Mocambo before signing a starlet contract with RKO. She did little actual acting for that studio but decorated their patented crime series and performed the usual legwork. The 1948 Republic serial Dangers of the Canadian Mounted was a breakthrough of sorts (she had earlier, very briefly, graced the 1944 Columbia chapterplay Black Arrow) but she was going nowhere fast – and "nowhere" included co-starring in no less than three Monogram Jimmy Wakely oaters: Oklahoma Bullets , The Rangers Ride, and Courtin' Trouble (all 1948), and one each opposite Johnny Mack Brown and post-Harry Sherman William Boyd – when deciding to relocate to Italy with a new husband in tow. Adding the necessary vowel to her name and becoming Virginia Belmonte, she went on to appear in several Italian films until at least 1957.

Dangers of the Canadian Mounted (Republic, 1948)

In the Canadian Journal of Communication (volume 23. no. 4. 1998), University of Alberta professor Christopher Giddings writes: "The manifest destiny or cultural imperialism of [serials] such as Dangers of the Canadian Mounted and The Royal Mounted Rides Again [see earlier post]is apparent in the hybridized American/Canadian territories in which the films are set, Alcana and Canaska respectively." Warming up to his subject, the good professor continues:

“This annexing reinvention of the Canadian landscape, whether intentional or just the product of sloppy thinking, has political implications. A redrawing of the map harmonizes Canada with the U.S. Yet there is in this cinematic transformation an odd paradox. These U.S. producers and directors obviously thought of Canada as "other"; they recognize a Canadian difference to America by making a conscious choice to set their plots in a foreign location, a location of otherness which they then proceed to fill with American landscapes and the people and values of America's dominant white culture …”

Leave it to an academic to politicize action serials! But no one at Republic or Universal obviously thought of Canada as “other” but simply chose the location to frame stories around the colorful Canadian Mounties, always a popular subject for pulp fiction. And what could be more topical in 1947 than the building of the Alaska-Canadian Highway, a project that soon led to Alaska becoming the 49th state of the union? If anything, in Dangers it is American gangsters who are "other" and not Jim Bannon's heroic Canadian Mountie. It really is amazing what you can achieve with an expensive education if only you apply yourself! Yes, Dangers does reflect "the people and values of America's dominant white culture" – as though that in itself is somewhat suspect and as opposed to exactly what? – but America’s “dominant white culture” really doesn't do all that well considering Anthony Warde’s ultimate lack of success.

Academic theory aside, Dangers remains one of Republic's better post-war serials with some very interesting ideas in the original script. Including the character of Skagway Kate, an American mind you, although exactly how interesting we shall never know due to a bit of censorship trouble (see below). Another unusual touch that did make it through to the finished serial is the very physical use of the border between the territory of Alaska and Canada. With no jurisdiction on the Alaskan side, forceful Sgt. Royal picks a fight with Warde’s Mort Fowler at Skagway Kate's, beating the blackguard straight across the border and right into his own bailiwick. (Chapter 8.) While we get the usual amount of stock footage, including cliffhangers, it is well incorporated and Jim Bannon heads a game cast that includes such veteran stuntmen as Eddie Parker and Bud Wolfe. Nothing to get too excited about, Dangers of the Canadian Mounted is pure escapist entertainment, 1948 Republic style. Nothing more, nothing less.

Censorship troubles

The character of Skagway Kate was conceived by the writers as running a gambling hall complete with dancing girls but the censors objected to what could be misinterpreted as a brothel and Kate became a rather more sedate operator of a boarding house. Veteran comedienne Dorothy Granger (1914-1995), who plays Skagway Kate with a Mae Westian swagger, also lost he opportunity to sing in a late rewrite. Today, Granger is best remembered for having worked with such Hal Roach comedians as Laurel & Hardy and Charley Chase, not to mention co-starring in 2-reelers with Harry Langdon, The Three Stooges, W.C. Fields, and Edgar Kennedy. She eventually retired from the screen to run a Hollywood upholstery store with her husband.

All in the family:

In the opening chapter of Dangers of the Canadian Mounted little Dan Page surreptitiously listens to henchmen Dale and Scott plan their next move. The boy is played by young Bill Van Sickel, the son of stuntman Dale Van Sickel who, in this scene, portrays the villainous Scott. In chapter 4, the elder Van Sickel, now playing a henchman named Steele, actually knocks junior over in his attempt to flee the Mounties.

Uncredited appearance department I

In another example of cost-cutting, ubiquitous B-movie actor Marshall Reed (1917-1980) plays no less than four different Mounties: Dave (chapter 3), Douglas (5), Jim (7) and Williams (8). As handsome as the leading men he supported Reed later assumed the starring role in the 1954 Columbia serial, Riding with Buffalo Bill, but it was too little too late for an attempt at genre stardom. Off-screen, Reed ran into some trouble that no serial hero would encounter, including a December 1956 arrest for drunk driving. The actor was stopped on Pico Blvd. and Missouri St. in West Los Angeles but then refused to take a sobriety test. At the time of his arrest, Reed was appearing on the television crime show The Lineup.

Uncredited appearance department II

The voices of Don "Red" Barry and Roy Barcroft are heard in telephone conversations, in chapters 4 and 11 respectively. All in a day's work when under contract to a studio like Republic.

Cay Forester & Brenda Starr, Reporter (1945)

Cay Forrester (1921-2005), of Stockton, CA, made her screen debut in the 1943 Trail Blazers western Blazing Guns, and she would go on to grace several other B-Movies and westerns, including Jimmy Wakely's Song of the Range (1944) and the 1945 Columbia serial Brenda Starr, Reporter. I shall report back after watching all three in the near future.

Described in 1944 as “a former lifeguard, tumbler, beauty contest winner and budding screen actress," Cay Forester took time out in 1945 to appear at Salt Lake City, UT in Victor Herbert's “The Only Girl” with fellow Hollywood refugees Margia Dean and Patricia Lynn.

She retired from the screen in 1950 after marrying investment banker Ludlow Flower, Jr. Then she and Jane Russell helped found WAIF, “an international fund-raising group for the adoption of homeless children." Returned to acting after taking classes with Sanford Meisner, she later persuaded producer James Ellsworth to cast her in what would become Five Minutes to Live (1960). According to Cay herself, she had deluged the producer with ideas for her character, a suburban wife menaced by a killer, that he finally gave in and hired her to write the entire screen treatment. Originally meant for television, Five Minutes to Live was released theatrically starring brooding country & western singer Johnny Cash (and featuring budding child star Ronnie (later Ron) Howard and Cay's own daughter, Cynthia).

In March of 1967, Forester appeared with Dan O'Herlihy and Eileen Herlie in Michael Dyne's Victorian drama “The Right Honourable Gentleman” at Los Angeles' Huntington Hartford Theatre. Sadly, her performance incurred the wrath of at least one reviewer. Opined Hal Bates in the Van Nuys Valley News: “A sour note must be sounded for the performance of Cay Forester, who as Mrs. Dilke, was appallingly amateurish. She seemed as out-of-place among the professionals as did the unruly first-night audience with its ridiculous applause at every entrance and exit.”

The former starlet was last seen on screen as one of the passengers in Airport 1975.

Brenda Starr, Reporter

I cannot praise Blair & Associates, Ltd. enough for bringing this long-lost serial to the light of day. Yes, most of the sound and/or footage are missing from chapters 3 and 4 but VCI Entertainment, who releases the DVD, has made stills available to bridge the missing parts. Often a film thought to be lost proves not really worth the effort, but not in this case. I am not one of those detractors of every serial not Republic; in fact, narrative speaking, Republic serials are vastly overrated. Columbia's Brenda Starr, Reporter, in contrast, virtually sparkles and not just because of VCI's fantastic restoration. Screenwriters Ande Lamb, Dale Messick and the ubiquitous George Plympton must also take a bow, posthumously speaking. Yes some of the dialogue is tired:

Chuck: It sure is dark in here!
Brenda: You can say that again!
Chuck: It sure is dark in here!

But delivered by the likes of Joan Woodbury and Syd Saylor, why you cannot help laughing. Miss Woodbury emerges as one of the very best sound era serial heroines, much better, acting-wise, than, say, Linda Stirling or Kay Aldridge. No wonder she enjoyed a B-Movie career longer than most. Saylor and Frank Jaquet, as Brenda's photographer and editor respectively, are more than tolerable as the comedy relief, and we all know what a fine leading man Kane Richmond could be. Chalk Brenda Starr, Reporter up as a delightful surprise.

Emerging as a rather mature-looking 24-year-old, Cay Forester, as chanteuse Vera Harvey, turns up in chapter two, performing a little ditty in villainous George Meeker's Pelican Club, i.e. one of Columbia's standing sets that lent spectacle even to low-brow Sam Katzman serials. Her car, it appears, was used as a getaway vehicle by the gang but Vera has an alibi: her boss had declared it stolen. Which, of course, is a lie, and soon Vera is used to lure the intrepid Brenda into a trap. Will she survive the collapse

To be continued ...

Due to the loss of audio in chapter four, we do not know exactly what Cay, as Vera Harvey, tells policeman Kane Richmond but it certainly doesn't please her boss, George Meeker. She later has a tense telephone conversation with Brenda Starr, apparently revealing some secret to the enterprising girl reporter. The call, however, is rudely interrupted by one of the henchmen but Vera leaves her compact behind in the telephone booth, a clue, it appears to her whereabouts.

To be continued ...

Louise Arthur: Heroine's sidekick (Moon Over Montana)

That a B-Western hero had to have a grizzled sidekicak, well, that custom actually went further back than Smiley Burnette, to the late silent era, in fact. But it was extremely rare that the heroine also came complete with sidekick. But that is exactly what happens in the 1946 Jimmy Wakely opus Moon over Montana, where the ever-popular Miss Jennifer Holt plays a shrew to be tamed by Mr. Wakely while her secretary, one Louise Arthur, dances a jig and comports herself with Jimmy's second, Lee (Lasses) White. And although an Easterner whose glasses of course hides a chorus girl kind of prettiness, Miss Arthur takes to the wild and woolly Montana like a duck to water, enthusiastically agreeging to be the roundup cook to pay for both ladies' stay at the Wakely-White ranch. And so it goes, Wakely taming Miss Holt and Lasses and Louise, well, romance may be too strong a word but there you are.

Louise Arthur had been in vaudeville as a child, "when vaudeville was on its way out," she said, and then went into "The George White's Scandals [of 1936]" on Broadway. She was 16, she told Ray Duncan of the Pasadena Independent Star News.

"People were shocked because I was a chorus girl at 16. Actually it was one of the most austere periods of my life. None of us drank or smoked or stayed out late. It was a serious business, and Mr. White was a very tough director. It was a no-nonsense job."

From the Scandals, Arthur became a Radio City Musical Hall Rockette:

"I was the seventh girl in from the left-hand side. One thing they did was to take out all your quirks. You couldn't have mannerisms or ragged movements, because the whole line had to move like a machine. We drilled for hours each day. It was good training, but not very satisfactory from a creative point of view."

Then on to plenty of radio work and, eventually, television. She starred opposite Bill Kennedy (billed as Drew Kennedy for some reason) in a satirical comedy entitled The People's Choice (1946) directed in 16mm by prolific Western ace Harry Fraser and sold to home movie viewers. The People's Choice was one of the earliest movies to pla regularly on television, the medium that became a new home for Louise Arthur in the 1950s. She also did dinner theatre and even played Mary Magdalene in a passion play in 1960. Miss Arthur disappears from television credits after an appearance on Honey West in 1965.

(We once again must take issue with the life dates listed on Louise Arthur's profile on the Internet Movie Database. If she was 16 when starting in the Scandals in December of 1935 when the show opened, she would have been born around 1919 and certainly not 1900 as someone on the Imdb claims. That birth year would have made her 46 when filming Moon over Montana, and a true miracle of nature. So here's a hint to would-be Imdb contributors: check a person's credits before you list a birth date!)

Betty Lou Head & Early Cantrell (West of the Alamo)

In the Jimmy Wakely oater West of the Alamo (Monogram, 1946) Betty Lou Head is that almost unheard of creature in a B-Western: a young married woman. Soon enough, alas, Betty Lou is made a widow by somebody impersonating local saloon owner Jane Morgan, and she decides to take the law into her own hands in a surprisingly potent scene where she confronts Jimmy Wakely, the sheriff (ubiquitous bit player Roy Butler) and sundry saloon denizens. Despite all this action, Betty Lou, of course, isn't the leading lady of West of the Alamo; that distinction goes instead to Iris Clive as the aforementioned saloon keeper falsely accused of heading a gang of road agents. Iris, who struts around the place like a junior league Joan Crawford in the much later Johnny Guitar (Republic, 1954), comes complete with a sister played by one Early Cantrell (1916-1998), who mostly spends her time looking bemused at the comedic song styling of Lee “Lasses” White. Texas-born Earlyne Cantrell (1916-1998), her real name, reportedly dabbled in spiritualism from a very young age and after the demise of her minor screen career, which also included a couple of Shemp Howard comedy shorts, she and her husband since 1946, Robert Chaney, founded “Astara,” an early “new age” occult religion. Earlyne Chaney authored several books, including “Remembering: The Autobiography of a Mystic” (Upland, CA: Astara, 1981).

NOTE: The life dates given for Early Cantrell on Imdb are incorrect; these dates, undoubtedly originally located on the find-a-grave website, belong instead to a somewhat older male.