jacobs-greenwood Directed by Irving Reis, and based on a story by Fredric Brown that was adapted by John Paxton, Ben Bengal and Ray Spencer, this average film noir drama stars Pat O'Brien, Claire Trevor, and Herbert Marshall (among others).O'Brien plays George Steele, a man who is 'caught' breaking into a museum by a police officer, who subdues him. It is then learned that Steele is an art forgery expert who gives lectures at the museum, much to the chagrin of Mr. Barton (Erskine Sanford), the nervous head of the museum. A disoriented Steele then tells a story about having been in a train wreck while going to visit his sick and dying mother.The police detective, Lieutenant Cochrane (Wallace Ford) is skeptical about Steele's story. Others listening in include his longtime girlfriend Terry Cordell (Trevor); Dr. Lowell (a psychiatrist?), played by Ray Collins, who's helps Steele recall his story (shown in an extensive flashback sequence) and is also a member of the museum board; Barton, and a man named Traybin (Marshall), who'd earlier been introduced to Steele by Terry as a potential donor (her job at the museum consists of schmoozing and soliciting donations from rich philanthropists), but who also admits that he worked for the British in much the same capacity as Steele during the war (trying to detect forgeries among the paintings confiscated by the Nazi's).It is quickly learned that Lt. Cochrane takes 'orders' from Traybin as well. A couple of other characters are also introduced, Dean Harens as Reynolds, a wealthy philanthropist who scowls during Steele's lecture to the public about his trade and later throws a party; Damian O'Flynn as Stevenson, a friend of Steele's who's later murdered for what he learns; and Mary Ware, playing a character of the same name, who works for Mr. Barton.There's not a lot of mystery, intrigue or substance to the plot, which deals with whether the museum has recently exhibited forgeries that had been substituted for the originals. O'Brien didn't encourage a lot of interest in this style of film (at least for me) either; Trevor's character seems to have little place or purpose besides providing a confusion factor for O'Brien's in relation to Marshall's.In the end, it's just a simple story about a thief (and his accomplice); the false character meant to throw the viewer off the trail (e.g. Reynolds) hardly appears at all, though Sanford's character does for one scene. When the criminal is revealed, it's neither an 'oh my' surprise, nor is his motivation for murder entirely satisfactory; his accomplice's actions made no sense either (e.g. why would the accomplice help Steele to learn what was already known before taking him to the murderer?).

ackstasis Pat O'Brien is typically known for playing priests, the level-headed foil for James Cagney's explosive gangster. In other words, he's usually the least-interesting character in the film. 'Crack-Up (1946)' marks a welcome change-of-pace for the actor. No longer is O'Brien the calm, collected cleric, but a confused art critic at the end of his rope, doubting his own sanity as he battles murder and conspiracy. He perhaps isn't perfect for the role – the film's lurid moments would have been even more lurid had the lead actor been able to act more deranged – but O'Brien receives good supporting back-up from Claire Trevor, Herbert Marshall and Ray Collins. Director Irving Reis (best known for his "Falcon" series, though he also co-directed the annoyingly manipulative 'Hitler's Children (1943)' with Edward Dmytryk) does well to develop the film's mood, not afraid to dabble in a bit of surrealism to help translate the mental confusion and degradation of his main protagonist. There's also a little Freudian psychoanalysis in there, as was popular at the time, but the distraction it causes to the story is only an afterthought.The role of WWII in shaping the film noir style should not be underestimated. In 'Crack-Up,' combat veteran George Steele (O'Brien) remarks that his greater fear in the trenches was that his mind might unexpectedly snap "like a tight violin string." These combat-related fears are here transcribed into a society ostensibly recovering from the war, suggesting that the shadow of the twentieth century's most costly campaign was still bearing over America, a sinister spectre of uncertainty and disarray. The film's undisputed centrepiece, though it is never adequately explained, is Steele's recollection of a train crash, a sequence that almost suggests an episode of "The Twilight Zone." As Steele watches the blazing beams of an oncoming train, time appears to stand still. He sits transfixed, calm and emotionless, a deer in the headlights. In classic film noir fashion, both he and the audience know what is about to happen, but all are powerless to stop it. The train barrels towards its predestined fate, a blistering collision of light and flames. Or does it?Perhaps drawing some inspiration from Lang's 'Scarlet Street (1945),' this film noir concerns itself with the art of art fraud and forgery. The filmmakers' approach to the topic is strictly populist. At the beginning of the film, art critic Steele gives a lecture that openly denigrates the booming popularity of surrealism and "modern art," dismissing the style as being of use only to snobbish social-climbers {an unfair view, since Hitchcock had employed the services of Salvador Dali just one year earlier for 'Spellbound (1945)'}. It is these very same snobs who have planned an elaborate scheme to replace masterpiece canvasses (titled "Gainsborough" and "The Adoration of the Kings," respectively) with worthless replicas, before destroying the copies – not for monetary gain, but because they're snobs, and would like to have the classic works of art all to themselves. If all of 'Crack-Up' was as lurid as the opening sequence and train-wreck flashback, then Irving Reis would have had a masterpiece on his hands. As it is, we are left with an entertaining if occasionally stodgy thriller.

Chris Gaskin Crack-Up came on BBC2 one afternoon and as I was out, I recorded this and was pleased I did.An art curator gets a phone call claiming his mother is unwell, so he gets the first train to New York and it turns out this call was a lie and he gets the idea the train has crashed, which it hasn't. He then takes part in a forgery involving fake paintings. Two women are also involved in this but the police catch up with them at the end.Crack-Up is rather atmospheric in parts, especially the New York dockside sequence. It is also light-hearted at times.The cast includes a good performance from Pat O'Brien and is joined by Clare Trevor (Key Largo), Herbert Marshall (The Secret Garden), Wallace Ford and Ray Collins.This is worth viewing at least once. Enjoyable.Rating: 3 stars out of 5.

bmacv The title of Irving Reis' Crack-Up sums up two elements of its plot: the wreck of a train carrying Pat O'Brien and the psychotic episode he throws in its aftermath. He gives lectures at a New York museum, demystifying art for the masses, who obligingly moan reverently at Monet but hoot derisively at Dali. When a phone call (sick mother) summons him upstate, he boards a train on which he freezes like a deer in the headlamp of a renegade engine hurtling straight at him. Oddly, he survives, but upon his return hurls a fire extinguisher through the gallery doors, assaults a policeman, and babbles incoherently about the accident. Trouble is, Mom's in fine fettle, and there was no crash.The movie joins him in sorting out the dramatic turns his life has taken. Helping him is Claire Trevor, a fixture in Manhattan art-snob circles. Herbert Marshall purports to help, too, but he keeps his cards close to his vest. Quite candidly not much help are the museum's board and its snooty benefactors, among them Ray Collins, who were never keen about the democratic spirit O'Brien breathed into their mausoleum and use his erratic behavior to halt his series of light-hearted talks. The police, too, have a stake; O'Brien did, after all, throw that punch....One of the felicities of Crack-Up is that it takes its canvases seriously, putting them at the core of the story. (A similar respect for art, music and theater, and for audiences assumed to have some acquaintance with them, routinely elevated films of the 1940s; times, plainly, have changed.) Of course monetary rather than esthetic value drives the villains here, as O'Brien slowly uncovers an international art scam, which is why he was derailed in the first place.The train crash itself – a very scary sequence, brilliantly handled by Reis – emerges, in the final wrapping-up, as the weakest point of the movie, a baroque twist too far-fetched to convince. Because of this contrivance, the movie cleaves to the over-plotted mysteries of the 1930s and early 1940s rather than to the emergent noir cycle that, in its look and many of its devices, it otherwise resembles. But then there's the always toothsome Claire Trevor, whose ensembles take inspiration from the uniforms of the just-won war; festooned in military braid and berets, she tilts the scales towards noir. Either way, Crack-Up offers some suspenseful fun spiked with a surprising note of sophistication.