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Easily, he does. The rest of the cast (Scarlet Street) is somewhat forgettable next to him. He is entertaining in most of what I have seen him in. Still, it was a fine enough watch with a cup of coffee on a early Sunday morning.
"Tales Of Manhattan" from '42.
This movie, similar to "The Yellow Rolls Royce," follows the "life" of an object, in this case, a dinner jacket, as it is passed, sold, stumbled upon by a succession of owners. Basically, it allows for a series of loosely tied vignettes all of which are just okay in this movie, but the one that rises slightly above is the one with Edward G. Robinson.
This work-a-day movie is ambling through its third short story when Robinson takes over and tells his character's life story for about six or seven minutes. It's just him speaking and he fully engages you. It is story telling stripped to its core - a man just standing there talking. With all that movies had at their disposal, even in '42 - scenery, props, special effects, stunts, music score, etc. - the highlight of this movie was nothing more than a man on a stage talking. Robinson is one of the greats.
Interestingly, the last vignette was a bold-faced advocacy for socialism. I wouldn't be surprised if this movie was looked at when the gov't was investigating Hollywood for communist sympathies.
And on the fun front, a very young, very beautiful, very "Orson Welles and Hollywood hasn't worn the glow off her youth yet" Rita Hayworth appears in the first short story.
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