The Films of John Farrow

The first thing I should say about John Farrow is that being a film director was only one chapter in his life. An exciting, glamorous chapter full of movie stars, adultery and long tracking shots but he also did heaps of other stuff, particularly writing, sailing and being extremely conveniently Catholic. But this isn’t a biography – it’s an overview of Farrow as a film director with a little bit of background.

He was a genuine Aussie, born in Sydney in 1904 and educated at Newtown Public School and Fort Street High School. After World War One, Farrow sought adventure by running away to sea, like a lot of future filmmakers around this time (eg Tay Garnett, Errol Flynn).

His activities in the early 1920s, are clouded in myth and hype, but Farrow mostly seems to have worked as a professional seaman, which presumably gave him plenty of time to read and write; it also earned him an entree into late 1920s Hollywood as a technical adviser, which he then parlayed into a career as a scriptwriter. The majority of Farrow’s early script credits are not particularly well remembered today, even amongst buffs; the more notable include The Four Feathers (1929), several early Gary Cooper and Clara Bow films, and Tarzan Escapes (1936).

Farrow had more status than a typical Hollywood screenwriter for several reasons. First was the exoticism of his sailing and Australian background (at one stage, he was arrested for being an illegal immigrant). Second, was the fact that Farrow was a published author, his other works including novels, histories, plays, short stories, poems and a Tahitian dictionary.

Most of all, there was his romance with and marriage to star Maureen O’Sullivan, best known for playing Jane in the Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan films; it was Farrow’s second trip down the altar, the first having ended in divorce. Farrow was a high-profile Catholic, his books eventually including biographies on Catholic figures such as Sir Thomas More and Damien the Leper (you can read his history of the Popes here); he was a regular churchgoer who socialised with Jesuit priests and he and O’Sullivan would have seven kids… but like a lot of high-profile Catholics, Farrow was not terribly great when it came to sticking to the rules in his private life (i.e. he constantly rooted around on his wife).

John Farrow’s first features as director were all at Warner Brothers: more specifically, their “B” unit, headed by the legendary Bryan Foy, which specialised in churning out entertaining programs that typically ran for an hour, starred cheap-up-and-comers or on-their-way-downers under contract to the studio and were remakes/rip offs of earlier Warners hits. They age well, on the whole, full of energy and pace. Farrow’s films are summarised below:

Men in Exile (1937). This was about some Americans in a (studio backlot) third world country who get involved in a plot to overthrow the government. The star is B-lister Dick Purcell, whose character is passive a lot of the time – he does not take part in a robbery that kicks off the plot, doesn’t join in the revolution, winds up arrested for a coup attempt he did not participate in, and is saved from execution not by anything he does but from his girlfriend’s weakling brother confessing. The depiction of the island dictator is weirdly sympathetic. Farrow’s handling is confident and the film entertaining; his directorial career was off and running.

West of Shanghai (1937). This has Boris Karloff in yellow face as a Chinese General who seems to fall in love with an American oil engineer (Gordon Oliver) in war-torn studio backlot China. The film is full of energy, solid acting, and nice touches. Karloff completists ensure this and Farrow’s later The Invisible Menace still get screened a bit.

She Loved a Fireman (1937). Bookie Dick Foran decides to become a firefighter, romances Ann Sheridan (a “B” picture star who graduated to the “A” leagues) who is the sister of his supervisor (Robert “I was in King Kong once” Armstrong). Packs a lot of story in, even a “Goose” from Top Gun-style character. Great fun.

The Invisible Menace (1938). Farrow was reunited with Boris Karloff for a creepy-happenings-on-an-island mystery. A whodunnit rather than a horror but entertaining.

Little Miss Thoroughbred (1938). Amiable rip-off of Little Miss Marker (1934) with Peggy Ann Garner (later of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn fame) in her film debut falling in with gambler John Litel; Ann Sheridan plays Litel’s gal.

Broadway Musketeers (1938). Remake of the Warners pre-Code “three girls” classic Three on a Match (1932) with a decent cast: Margaret Lindsay, Ann Sheridan (again) and Marie Wilson as the girls. Farrow is best known for making tough guy stories with male stars but early in his career he was more associated with “women’s pictures”.

My Bill (1938). Farrow’s first film with a big star: Kay Francis, then under contract to Warners, was assigned to the “B” unit as a punishment for being “troublesome” (Jack Warner had a track record with this kind of sadistic treatment of his actors). It’s a fast-paced melodrama in which Francis plays a widow with four kids, three of whom are brats. The film is particularly well-acted and Farrow helped turn it into one of Francis’ best later movies; you can listen to a radio version here. (Random salacious trivia: Francis kept a racy diary where she would track her various lovers and abortions; she would rate the ability of her bed partners in the sack – Delmer Daves was outstanding, apparently – and one of her boyfriends was Ivan Goff, another Aussie in Hollywood. This has nothing to do with John Farrow; just interesting gossip.) Farrow did some uncredited directing of Francis in Comet Over Broadway (1938) and she was in his next full movie…

Women in the Wind (1939). Another Farrow-Francis collaboration; this one has a fascinating subject matter: the Powder Puff Race, an all-female air competition.

Farrow wound up his contract with Warners and went over to RKO where he continued making “B”s. However, RKO’s “B”s were a little more classy than Warners’ – budgets were bigger, the running time longer (70-75 mins) – and with these films, Farrow really began to be noticed.

The Saint Strikes Back (1939). The second in RKO’s “Saint” series, and the first to star George Sanders. From the opening sequence – a murder at a dance on New Year’s Eve – it’s apparent, this is going to be first-rate: a moving camera, rapid cuts, a number of characters, a room plunged into darkness, a shot rings out. And the resulting film is hugely fun. Sanders normally specialised in silky villainy and is so ideal as the operating-just-outside-the-law Simon Templar, bringing great humour and style to the part while still remaining dangerous. (One of the nicest things about B movie series was that actors who usually played villains got to be heroes eg. Peter Lorre). It’s a terrific film, hugely entertaining, and a deserved hit.

Sorority House (1939). A female-orientated vehicle for second-tier RKO star Anne Shirley who had been in Anne of Green Gables (1934). Written by Dalton “I wrote scripts in the bath and got blacklisted and behaved very well throughout” Trumbo.

Five Came Back (1939). Farrow’s first classic, the screenwriters including Trumbo again and Nathanael “I write great novels and drive badly” West. The plot focuses on a plane that crashes in the Amazon jungle with a genuinely interesting cross section of passengers on board: there’s the young son of a top gangster and a hoodlum looking after him; a hooker; an eloping couple; an anarchist assassin and the cop who nabbed him, etc. There’s also a very good cast, most of whom you would not care to see in their own vehicle but who are good in an ensemble, including Patric Knowles, C Aubrey Smith, Chester Morris, John Carradine, Lucille Ball, Joseph Calleia and Allen Jenkins. The script has some leftie propaganda – rich man Knowles and cop Carradine are bad, the goodies are the elderly, disenfranchised and the anarchist, and the anarchist (the best role and the best performance, from Calleia) has a spiel where he talks about how happy the people are in their new system under a strong leader that they all admire. Very strong B film, with a great finale.

Full Confession (1939). A sort-of remake of RKO’s The Informer (1935) with Victor McLaglen as a conscience-riddled criminal who commits a crime and watches on as Barry Fitzgerald is sentenced to death. This is the first really Catholic-y film of Farrow’s oeuvre. Fitzgerald, Hollywood’s resident Irishman, would go on to make several movies with the director.

Reno (1939). A sort of rise-and-fall-of-the-protagonist male melodrama along the lines of RKO’s Cimarron (1933) which had starred Richard Dix who plays the lead here. Not bad; there’s a long tracking shot of a casino which is interesting to see because tracking shots were a recurring stylist device of Farrow’s.

Married and in Love (1940). I have never seen this one. It’s a romantic drama starring Alan Marshall (also born in Australia but less Australian than Farrow) and Patric Knowles. No one seems to write many good things about it.

Bill of Divorcement (1940). I have seen this one. It’s a remake of the 1931 RKO film with Kate Hepburn and John Barrymore; this has Maureen O’Hara and Adolphe Menjou. This was an “A” movie, Farrow’s first as director; at the time RKO thought O’Hara, coming off The Hunchback of Notre Dame, might become a major dramatic star. This film ended that dream – O’Hara is out of her depth here, though in her defence, she disliked Farrow, claiming in her memoirs that he was a lech and that she even punched him out one day on set… that’s not really conducive to good acting. The film flopped, and O’Hara segued into more decorative/adventure type roles that made her an icon. Aussie connection: Patric Knowles plays an Australian from near Wagga Wagga who is in love with O’Hara.

Farrow then left RKO to enlist in the Canadian Navy for World War Two. (America was still neutral in the early days and Canada was a lot closer to the US than Australia or Britain.) He would be invalided out in 1942 for typhus, enabling him to return to filmmaking. He joined Paramount where he was now an “A” picture director making the following movies:

Wake Island (1942). Early American war films based on real events had to focus on defeats because, well, America kept losing battles early on. This is one of the best, a thrilling account of the legendary battle in the Pacific, and Farrow’s direction is superb – you can really feel him engaging with the material. The film was a big hit and earned Farrow a Best Director Oscar nomination.

The Commandos Strike at Dawn (1942). Another ripped-from-the-headlines effort with Paul Muni playing a commando in occupied Norway. This was actually made by Columbia Studios who borrowed Farrow for this one movie.

China (1943). Farrow’s third war picture in a row, this one was set in Japanese-occupied China with Loretta Young as a missionary looking after some girls and fleeing Japanese troops with Alan Ladd and William Bendix. Young was an even bigger Catholic than Farrow IRL and there’s some Catholic talk in this movie. It was the first of several movies Farrow made with Ladd who is in great form as a mercenary adventurer, with his snappy dialogue, world weary air, leather jacket and cigarette – no wonder George Lucas remembered this character when devising Indiana Jones. There are some remarkable scenes : the opening tracking shot as William Bendix runs through a bombed-out city; Young and Ladd tracking down a girl, arriving to find her parents dead and the girl in the process of being raped by three Japanese soldiers, who Ladd then machine guns; the baby adopted by Bendix is killed; [SPOILERS] Ladd dies during the final assault. Do reviewers not remember this when China is dismissed as “simplistic war entertainment”? While the Japanese are portrayed as buck teethed, glass-wearing rapists or vicious maniacs, the film is very sympathetic to Chinese, most of whom are played by genuine Chinese actors with strong American accents who get to be brave, strong, tough etc – the rape victim has to die because she “doesn’t want to live” a la 1940s Hollywood but she is depicted as a bright, likeable person.

Kokoda Front Line! (1943) Farrow did not have anything to do with the making of this Australian documentary. But he did accept the Oscar when it was awarded in LA which was a nice nod to his homeland.

The Hitler Gang (1944). A biopic of Hitler and his mates, done with no stars and a lot of pace. Consistently interesting. These years were Farrow’s golden period.

Two Years Before the Mast (1946). Filmed in 1944, but not released until two years later, this is a hugely entertaining version of the famous “away at sea” novel, refashioned into a vehicle for Alan Ladd. Farrow’s direction really shines, notably the tracking shot just before the ship sails, an excellent below decks murder sequence and the exciting storm. The film is full of atmosphere and the cast of actors feel like a real crew – well, to be honest, I would not have a clue whether the expressions and details are authentic but they seem like a real group: Ladd (still trying at this stage of his career) is in good form in a rare period role, Brian Donvlevy and Barry Fitzgerald are likeable as sea salts, the love interest is decently integrated, and William Bendix is strong in a complex role; best of all is Howard da Silva, who is electric as the driven captain. Production values are outstanding. A deserved box-office blockbuster.

You Came Along (1945). A curio – Ayn (The Fountainhead) Rand worked on the script and Hal Wallis produced. Bob Cummings stars as a terminally ill pilot who pals around with his mates and falls for Lizabeth Scott; there’s lots of bromance between the three guys and love for the air force. In one scene, the pilots visit a chapel with links to fliers and there’s a wall with signatures from famous fliers on the walls, including Hap Arnold, Jimmy Doolittle… and Australia’s own Charles Kingsford-Smith. I wonder if this was a touch from Aussie Farrow (the mention of St Francis of Assisi, saint of birds, surely was). Farrow does a very good job, incidentally – it’s all handled with warmth and conviction, the camaraderie of Cummings and his friends comes across strongly.

Calcutta (1947). This was the first John Farrow film that I ever saw, and I always loved it. It’s a Casablanca-y tale set in the third world, Calcutta on the backlot, with Alan Ladd as a pilot investigating the death of his partner. The tragic boozer Gail Russell is excellent as the femme fatale and William Bendix is on hand again as Ladd’s bestie.

California (1947). Expensive Technicolor Western with Ray Milland not entirely comfortably cast in a role originally meant for Ladd (the latter turned it down over money). There’s a woman with a shady past (Barbara Stanwyck), a comic but decent Irishman (Barry Fitzgerald), some strong anti-slavery sentiments (although the film, of course, is free of any black people), the villain (George Colouris) has a decent goal (to make California an independent country) and a great characterisation (he’s a former slaver tormented by the horrors he has done and is genuinely in love with Stanwyck). Farrow films often featured very well-rounded antagonists. Big hit.

Blaze of Noon (1947). Another Farrow film about pilots, co-written by Spig Wead (the paraplegic former naval aviator whose life was immortalised by John Ford in The Wings of Eagles), from a novel by Ernest Gann (perhaps the most famous aeroplane author of all time), with a cast including William Holden, Sonny Tufts, Anne Baxter and Sterling Hayden. Imagine the stories around the commissary during lunchtime. Holden, Tufts, Hayden and Johnny Sands play brothers who go from barnstorming in the 1920s to running an airmail service. There’s a likeable priest, who encourages Anne Baxter to marry William Holden – Farrow’s influence, no doubt.

Easy Come, Easy Go (1947). Barry Fitzgerald as a compulsive gambler; his daughter Diana Lynn is pursued by Sonny Tufts and Dick Foran. Farrow’s least-known film from his golden era.

The Big Clock (1948). Perhaps Farrow’s most universally acclaimed effort, this is a splendid film noir with Ray Milland as a writer asked to investigate a murder for which he is the prime suspect. Everything about this is so wonderful: Farrow’s handling, the support cast (including Charles Laughton, George Macready, Elsa Lancaster and Margret O’Sullican, who came out of temporary retirement), the photography, the mood… everything. The script was written by Jonathan Latimer, who would go on to regularly collaborate with Farrow over the next decade.

Beyond Glory (1948). An odd sort of movie – part tribute to West Point, part courtroom drama, part analysis of PTSD. Three writers are credited, including Latimer, and I wonder if each one took a completely different approach to the material because that’s what it feels like. The film has all these plots – Ladd romancing Donna Reed, the widow of his former officer; Ladd’s initial dislike of the army then becoming an officer; Ladd dealing with life after the army; Ladd being accused of hazing by a rich man’s son; Ladd thinking he was a coward. However, there are bright spots: Farrow’s brisk direction, the novelty of seeing Alan Ladd as a student at West Point, some documentary-like touches showing life at West Point, a particularly strong support cast including George Colouris (a worthy baddy), Donna Reed (noble widow), Henry Travers, Tom Neal and Audie Murphy (in one of his first performances).

The Night Has a Thousand Eyes (1948). Part of the late ‘40s fortune teller cycle which also gave us Nightmare Alley, this features Edward G Robinson as a fortune teller who starts off as a shonk then realises he has a genuine gift. He has a strong control over heiress Gail Russell, whose death Robinson predicts. Entertaining, moody picture.

Alias Nick Beal (1949). A fascinating movie, a sort of Faust goes film noir, which gives a rare lead role to Thomas Mitchell as an honest DA tempted by devilish Ray Milland. You would normally expect the roles to be played the other way around, but this gives the movie an air of real difference. Mitchell oozes age and experience and you can understand why someone like him would be tempted into a dalliance with a trashy blonde sent to him by Milland. And Milland is a perfect devil – it’s one of his best performances. I wonder if Farrow helped initiate this movie, with its issues of guilt, torment, conscience, temptation, adultery, a long-suffering and forgiving wife. Not to mention a friendly man of God who helps Mitchell in part by telling him that a confession has wiped out all his sins.

Red, Hot and Blue (1949). A change of pace, this is a musical comedy about gangsters with songs from Frank (Guys and Dolls) Loesser, who also appears in a support role. The stars are Betty Hutton and Victor Mature (who was in a lot of musicals). There’s a lot of pace and running around but the movie never quite works. Or maybe it does, if you’re more of a fan of Hutton. I’m not sure Farrow was the right guy to direct this movie.

Copper Canyon (1950). California made so much money, Paramount teamed Milland and Farrow in another colour western. It’s about the prejudice faced by Southerners after the Civil War (naturally, there are no black people or Indians in the film). Not bad; Macdonald Carey is a superb villain.

Farrow was then loaned out by Paramount to Howard Hughes at RKO, where he made two film noirs with Hughes’ favourite male star, Robert Mitchum:

Where Danger Lives (1950). Entertaining moody noir from a script by Charles Bennett where Mitchum plays a doctor who dumps his gal (Maureen O’Sullivan in a small role) to chase after a femme fatale (Howard Hughes discovery/hostage victim, Faith Domergue). Not a lot of twists but an interesting dream-like atmosphere and some great moments like the vaudeville concert at the border town at the end. Some writers consider this a masterpiece – such as Scott Murray who wrote an excellent pioneering 1990 profile on John Farrow for Cinema Papers. I wouldn’t go that far, but I enjoyed it.

His Kind of Woman (1951). I love, love, love this movie. It starts out as a standard albeit fabulous noir with Mitchum and Jane Russell then takes this left turn halfway through and becomes a comedy starring Vincent Price. A lot of this latter section was re-shot under the direction of Richard Fleischer at the request of Howard Hughes (this is really “un film de Huges”) but there’s still plenty of Farrow’s stuff in there and it all works in its nutty way. One of several cult movies featuring B-Western star Tim Holt.

Farrow returned to Paramount for two final movies under his contract.

Submarine Command (1951). Dull war film with Bill Holden ill at ease playing a submarine officer tormented by a World War Two incident who is allowed to redeem himself via the Korean War. Feels overly serious and boring in the way many military movies made with official co-operation did at this time (eg. Beyond Glory).

Botany Bay (1953). Filmed in 1951 but released two years later, this was an attempt to repeat the success of Two Years Before the Mast, with Alan Ladd once again in a sea story. It has lots of interest for Australian viewers being based on a novel about the journey of a ship on the First Fleet to Sydney by Nordoff and Hall, the team whose works had been adapted a number of times (Mutiny on the Bounty, The Hurricane). Ladd plays an unjustly imprisoned American sent out on the First Fleet on a ship under the command of a sadist (James Mason). Among the other passengers are a dodgy highwayman (Jonathan Harris from Lost in Space!), an actress who always seems to have plenty of lipstick and mascara (Patricia Medina), a sympathetic parson (Murray Matheson), a whiny child and his mother, and a top criminal (Hugh Pryse). The parson has a scene with Medina where he tells her the prisoners are mostly “Unfortunates who’ve fall foul of unjust and harsh laws” who mostly stole a loaf of bread and tries to cheer up Medina by saying in Sydney she will “be given a wonderful chance – cooking, washing, making clothes” and if she’s married she will get land. There’s plenty of floggings, keel hauling and head shavings plus colonial Sydney shot on the blacklot featuring koalas and black Americans playing Aboriginals (they’re like our Indians,” says Ladd, “if we don’t bother them they won’t bother us”). I think this is the only feature film ever made about the First Fleet. It was the last film Ladd and Farrow made together which was a shame as few directors worked as well with that actor. (NB Farrow was going to direct Ladd in the 1949 The Great Gatsby but pulled out because he wanted Gene Tierney cast as Daisy over Betty Field.)

Farrow then entered a freelance phase of his career which continued until his death. The films that he directed were:

Ride, Vaquero! (1953). A solid Western for MGM. Like a lot of Westerns, it’s a love triangle between three men – Howard Keel and Anthony Quinn fight it out over Robert Taylor – with a woman as the beard – in this case Ava Gardner, who in one scene gets slapped by Taylor after she tries to kiss him. There is a wise Mexican Catholic priest who hangs around being the conscience for everyone. The movie was a hit and is probably Farrow’s best Western. He had an affair with Gardner during filming.

Plunder of the Sun (1953). Made for John Wayne’s company but starring Glenn Ford, this is a kind of film noir take on a buried treasure film set in Mexico – so, while it is mostly moody and noir-y there are also dashes of The Maltese Falcon, Indiana Jones and various Westerns. There’s a concoction of familiar tropes entertainingly mixed-up and reheated – tough hero; hired to do a job by a man in a wheelchair with a sexy nurse; exotic and seedy settings; voice over and black and white photography; trashy women on board ship; Mexico locations. You will have fun watching it.

Hondo (1953). Also for Wayne’s company but this one starred Wayne, who plays (superbly) a cowboy who hooks up with Geraldine Page and her kid. This film is beloved by baby boomers who related to the kid (who Wayne throws in the water to teach how to swim in one memorable sequence). The cowboy has a sidekick dog that inspired the dog in Mad Max 2. Fellow Aussie Michael Pate plays an Indian. Maybe the best screen adaptation of a Louis L’Amour novel. Wayne’s only 3-D movie.

A Bullet Is Waiting (1954). A dull outdoorsy thriller made at Columbia with Rory “Robert Mitchum would’ve been better in my part” Calhoun and Jean Simmons, the latter badly miscast as a mountain girl. It’s got the sort of story that would’ve worked better had Farrow made it at Warners in the ‘30s, in black and white with a one hour running time.

The Sea Chase (1955). Farrow’s second Australian-ish film (the opening scenes are set in Sydney) and second with John Wayne. If you thought Wayne was miscast in The Conqueror, wait until you see him here as a German sea captain in 1939 who escapes from Sydney to rejoin the motherland when war breaks out. He’s one of those Good Germans (a popular war subgenre in the ‘50s eg. The Desert Fox, The One Who Got Away) – a brave soldier from World War I (because, you know, they believed in freedom so much) who has fallen afoul of the Nazis so is only captaining a crummy freighter, is best friends with a British naval captain (David Farrar) and is admired by his men except the Nazi first mate. Wayne is never for a second convincing as a German but he is believable as a sea captain with integrity, so you go with it. Lana Turner emotes all over the shop as a Nazi spy but her relationship with Wayne does work (they have sex several times). What gives the film real emotional kick is (SPOILERS) both Wayne and Turner both die at the end. This movie does not have the best reputation but I really liked it – the story is very strong. Tab Hunter has a small role. Farrow’s last hit as director.

Around the World in 80 Days (1956). Farrow worked on the script for this all-star epic from producer Mike Todd and was the original director, but was fired during filming, replaced by Michael Anderson. Farrow did win an Oscar for his work on the screenplay, making him one of the first Australian Oscar winners.

Back from Eternity (1956). The first of a three-picture deal Farrow made with RKO, then in its dying days (the “dying” part meant ultimately there were only two films made). There was a bit of a fad in the 1950s where directors remade their earlier hits – John Ford, Alfred Hitchcock, Cecil B. De Mille and Frank Capra did it, and here it is Farrow’s turn, having another go at Five Came Back. This is commonly described as not being as good as the original, but while it is longer, it still has basically the same story, and I liked it. Some things I even preferred to the original: there’s more star power (including Robert Ryan, Anita Ekberg, and Rod Steiger) and it cuts out all that semi-commie dialogue where the killer talked about how happy everyone was living in the socialist utopia under a benevolent dictator. On the downside, there is a new long scene where the little kid does the lord’s prayer.

The Unholy Wife (1957). Farrow’s second RKO film is a noir that tried to make a Hollywood star out of Diana Dors. The story is junky melodrama, which borrows liberally from They Knew What They Wanted (vineyard owners in movies are forever marrying younger women who have affairs with handsome men) and all those episodes of the radio show Suspense where a killer got away with murder that they committed only to be convicted for a murder they didn’t commit. Latimer wrote the script and keeps things bubbling along, jazzing up the structure by using a flashback within a flashback, throwing in a hunky rodeo rider, a war wound causing infertility, a poisoned mother. The wheels fall off in the last ten minutes or so, though when the film becomes all about Dors repenting for what she has done to a priest (Steiger’s brother) – this has the whiff of Farrow’s Catholicism all over it (as does all the Bible quoting), and it really slows down the action. Still, not a bad film and Dors is quite good. Like Back from Eternity though, it did not do well at the box office.

John Paul Jones (1959). Farrow’s last directorial effort was a spectacle for legendary producer Samuel Bronston who managed to parlay General Franco’s currency restrictions and the wealth of a particularly dim member of the Dupont family into a series of epics shot in Spain of which this was the first. It is a stilted epic, overly respectful to the British, hurt by Robert Stack’s limitations in the lead, but has some impressive production values and an electric cameo by Bette Davis. There’s a bit of Catholicism thrown in there by Farrow in the scene where Marisa Pavan (who plays the female lead) goes to mass. It was a commercial disappointment. Farrow was meant to follow this project with another film for Bronston called Son of Man about Jesus Christ, but he was turfed from the film which ultimately became King of Kings under the direction of Nicholas Ray.

Farrow’s last years were not easy. His son Michael died in a car crash, he couldn’t get up any film projects, his wife started rooting George Abbott in New York… Farrow died at home alone of a heart attack in 1963. Still, he left behind a hell of a legacy. Made heaps of top films. Check some out.

John Farrow: Hollywood’s Man in the Shadows is screening and streaming at the Sydney Film Festival.

Share: