I refuse to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s because I was so appalled by Mickey Rooney’s yellowface performance of it as a deeply offensive portrayal of a Japanese man. Both Rooney and director Blake Edwards went on to later express regret, but I still will not be watching the rest of the picture beyond the actor’s first appearance in it.
In general, I am not a fan of the actor at all, so I was quite surprised by his astonishing turn in 1954 noir Drive a Crooked Road, the screenplay of which was written by Edwards. It is a far cry from the lighter fare for which both are known.
Rooney plays a mechanic obsessed with racing cars. The sad room he rents has trophies on the nightstand, and the photos on the wall are of the drivers he idolizes. Judging from his stated ambition to drive in any of the European races, I assume these are some of the stars of those.
Although Rooney has obviously won some races, he comes in second in the one we see at the beginning of the runtime. Watching the race are Kevin McCarthy and Jack Kelly. Conversation between the two reveals their interest in the winners is balanced by the stability of that person’s life beyond the track. The guy who came in first is a family man. Rooney, on the other hand, has nothing and nobody. And so he becomes their pick for getaway man for the heist they’re planning.
One aspect I found interesting about Rooney’s casting is the film makes no attempt to downplay his diminutive stature. In fact, it plays it up a bit, even in that conversation between McCarthy and Kelly: “Little guy, isn’t he?” “So was Napoleon.”
It also doesn’t make any attempt to have romantic interest Dianne Foster appear the same height or even shorter than him. The filmmakers don’t employ any of the ruses which put Bogart at the same height as the leading ladies he played against.
Foster is really McCarthy’s girl, but she is the bait used to lure the driver into the scheme. She is very effective at manipulating him, even when he initially appears to be staunchly opposed to breaking the law. It is the ol’ “I just want you to be happy” bit, which really means “I want you to want what I want you to want”. In a way, they are like every couple that is forever going through loops of “I don’t know, what do you want to do?”
She first makes his acquaintance when she brings her vehicle into the repair shop where he’s employed. It seems she is the first woman to rattle his cage. At least he doesn’t hoot, holler and catcall the women walking by the shop’s windows, unlike his fellow grease monkeys. Despite his apparent gentlemanly manner, he steals her handkerchief from the glove compartment, and I really didn’t want to see a hero stealing what is essentially an article of clothing to later…do whatever he feels like in the comfort of his own room.
The photography is functional without being showy, and there is a good mix of actual locales and realistic sets. The getaway scene is quite exciting, even if it is largely rear projection. The deep shadows which are a noir staple are little used except in a great montage of Foster’s empty apartment when Rooney tries to contact her later. We see empty drawers, an empty medicine chest. The absence of life in the place is palpable.
Edwards’s script gives everybody dialogue with some zing, such as when Foster tells a mechanic giving her the up and down: “On a clear day, you can see Catalina.” Then there’s the camaraderie, though strained, between Rooney and his co-workers. When he nearly runs over one of his co-workers while distracted by Foster, a guy yells, “Whatsamatta? You don’t love me anymore?”
Rooney really impressed me in this picture. He truly seems to embody the character he is playing, a painfully shy guy with very low self-esteem around women. It is only around cars that he appears to be in his element, which is why he is the right person to customize the getaway vehicle and drive it down a rough and disused mining road before barricades can be set up by police. I found it odd he doesn’t once appear to drive the road in advance of the big day, choosing to instead endlessly rewatch a film the thieves created that is like a GoPro shoot of the route. Surely that can’t compensate for the real thing.
At least Kelly brings him popcorn during one screening, though probably one to be a thorn in Rooney’s side some more. This character is a real piece of work, with a smartass interjection for every occasion. Consider what he says to the bank manager during the robbery: “It I don’t do this, I lose the game. This is a scavenger hunt and I’m supposed to get all the money out of the bank.” Regarding the chumminess between him, Rooney and McCarthy, he says: “Hey, maybe if this all works out, we can all room together next semester.” As always, sarcasm is a form of hostility, and he will also provide adept at more direct hostility.
McCarthy is an odd character, supposedly a suave operator, though I suspect he was from money and just a wannabe gangster. I was especially curious why Kelly lives at his house with him. An essay in the accompanying booklet suggests gay overtones, and I don’t agree with that even I can understand how somebody might reach this conclusion. Also, while hosting a cocktail party at his place, he makes beef stroganoff, which has to the one of the least appropriate foods for such a gathering. I was equally surprised by him saying to Kelly when he stops by Foster’s house that he will be back in ten minutes. Most guys at least try to pretend they have more stamina than that.
In the end, Drive a Crooked Road is almost as much Foster’s film as it is Rooney’s, and felt almost as bad for her character. You know she has some sort of wound deep inside her that makes her identify a bit with the pigeon she’s supposed to con: “He’s like a lonesome little animal. He’s never had any love in his whole life.” She also finds his adoration for her to be oppressive: “His love..it’s a devotion. It’s like a terrible worship.” What can I say, as soon as Rooney took that handkerchief, he might as well have started building a shrine.
Dir: Richard Quine
Starring Mickey Rooney, Dianne Foster, Kevin McCarthy, Jack Kelly
Watched as part of Powerhouse/Indicator UK’s blu-ray (region B) box set Columbia Noir #1