![]() ![]() Garfield, Miss Lane, Stanley Ridges as the prison foreman, Henry Armetta as proprietor of a diner, Alan Hale as a city editor, and most of the others have played it well enough, although we detect signs in Mr. The moment-but you know what happens as well as we do, right up to and including the defense attorney's tear-drenched charge to the jury that "if you convict this boy" (quaver) "you are convicting thousands like him, not criminals, not murderers, just nobodies trying to find a place to hang their hat."Mr. ![]() The moment we saw Joe and Mabel getting married on a theatre's stage (for the furniture and a month's rent) we knew some one would take a picture that would bring the law on the run. The moment we saw the prison gang foreman (whose stepdaughter is Priscilla Lane) and heard about his whisky heart, we knew Joe was going to be blamed for his death. The moment we met Joe Bell riding a freight car, looking for work, we knew he was going to be sent to a prison camp. Personally, we're tired of the formula.It's not even fun, any more, outguessing the script. If that's the measure of success, the Warners can chalk up another. ![]() Considering the practice they have had, it's not at all surprising that the picture goes its way smoothly, never missing a dramatic cue, a pause for laughter, a perfectly timed spurt of action when the utter futility of it all begins to grow too utterly utter. John Garfield, official gall-and-wormwood taster for the Warners, is sipping another bitter brew at the Strand in "Dust Be My Destiny," latest of the Brothers' apparently interminable line of melodramas about the fate-dogged boys from the wrong side of the railroad tracks. ![]()
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