Word: bogarting
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Cornered (RKO Radio) is ex-Crooner Dick Powell's second try (The first: Murder, My Sweet) in the sort of unshaven, tough-talking role usually reserved for Humphrey Bogart. This time Powell is a Canadian flyer, an ex-prisoner of the Nazis, with an ugly scar on his close-cropped head and a frozen scowl on his face. He is out to get the dirty collaborationist who murdered his young French wife. The chase takes him to South America and into a nest of fashionably dressed, fast-living people who are plainly plotting the next Nazi war of aggression...
Conflict (Warner), in this film, develops chiefly between the edgy performance of many scenes and the plot-which, though basically all right, is much too fancily and obviously worked out. Humphrey Bogart, a grimly unhappy husband, murders Rose Hobart, his wife, for love of Alexis Smith, her younger sister, only to find that Miss Smith has no use for him. In the course of describing just how his wife looked when he last saw her, he makes a single mistake that punctures his otherwise airtight alibi. Since mystery-hardened cinemaddicts can hardly fail to miss his slip, it becomes much...
...Humphrey Bogart plays the unlucky killer with his usual proficient intensity, and Rose Hobart is bitterly knowledgeable as the hating, hated wife. There is enough talent and ambition involved in Conflict to make another Double Indemnity-which is roughly what its makers were trying for. But the picture is too ornate to be of genuine psychological interest, and too slow to be thoroughly exciting...
Caught in the act was arch Aiken, the Virginia playboy, who spent a vigilant week-end watching and waiting for Humph Bogart and Lauren Bacall to check in at the Gotham, Arch's big-town hang-out. His patience was not rewarded and friend Aiken had ot settle with a train ride confab with his fellow UVA man, T. B. Perry, 3rd. Old Neil Summers carrot-thatched New Yorker, found the rails a little too boresome and took to the air this week. The result was near disaster, but "Corney" promises better results in the future...
...persuade the ball into the cup. Time & again, he dipped at the knees and rolled with the breeze. He slapped the carpet with his hands, suffered awful tortures on the near misses. He three-putted two greens. West Virginia's Sambo contented himself with a puckered-up Bogart face and an occasional "Woof!" Neither of them sank a man-size putt all day. But Snead felt he couldn't lose, because it was his 33rd birthday, and he won by a stroke-with a three-over-par 70-73 = 143. He did it by outplaying ironmaster Nelson with...