Here Come The Marines (1952) The Bowery Boys

"Here Come The Marines"

Directed by William Beaudine. Screenplay by Jack Crutcher, Charles R. Marion, Tim Ryan. Produced by Jerry Thomas. Released by Monogram Pictures.

Cast: The Bowery Boys (Leo Gorcey, Huntz Hall, Benny Bartlett, David Gorcey, Gil Stratton), Bernard Gorcey, Myrna Dell, Hanley Stafford, Murray Alper, Arthur Space, Tim Ryan, Paul Maxey, Robert Coogan, Stanley Blystone

Running Time: 66 minutes. Released June 29, 1952.

The Bowery Boys started out as The Dead End Kids in social dramas with grade A stars, like Humphrey Bogart in “Dead End” (1937) and “Crime School” (1938) , “Angels With Dirty Faces” (1938) with James Cagney, and “They Made Me a Criminal” (1939) with John Garfield. After splintering into groups like The Little Tough Guys and The East Side Kids during the first half of the 1940s, the group was finally revamped as The Bowery Boys in 1946. Up to this time, their films were essentially dramas with comic touches, but The Bowery Boys offered more in the way of comedy, especially by the 1950s.

“Here Come The Marines” is one of the funnier outings, with Slip (Leo Gorcey) being drafted, and the rest of the gang following him and enlisting. Sach (Huntz Hall) turns out to be the son of a war hero, so he is quickly promoted. His comical antics are misconstrued into heroic feats (e.g. reacting to a missile that is purported to be a dud, then awarded a medal when it indeed explodes) and he is quickly promoted in rank.

The trajectory during the early part of the movie deals with tough leader Gorcey having to take orders from his goofy underling. Sach relishes his newfound authority and engages in such activities as ordering his troops endure a long march with full pack while he rides alongside them on a bicycle. It is all quite funny, with Gorcey’s mounting frustration and Hall’s outrageous attempts at leadership providing an abundance of welcome corny humor.

As with most Bowery Boys comedies, the second half gets a bit serious. The Bowery Boys stumble upon a dead solder while on maneuvers. Slip discovers a playing card on the corpse, which eventually leads him to an operation where gamblers prey on servicemen. Slip uses his wiles to capture the murderous thieves and bring them to justice, with the help of his Boys and one of their anticipated numbered routines.

There is something about the Bowery Boys series that is consistently brilliant. The films were cheaply produced for the low budget Monogram studios, sold as B movies, and gained enormous profits. Gorcey and Hall make a mutually complimentary team, with Hall’s manic comic reactions and Gorcey’s tough mug straight man blending nicely.

Army settings are as old as silent comedy, and The Bowery Boys use a lot of standard basic training gags. But it is the characters that shine. While Hall maintains his comic persona throughout, Gorcey was effective at maintaining the delicate balance between comedy and drama. He could be very funny with Hall, but also command the serious part of the story with equal aplomb.

Now that the entire series of 48 Bowery Boys features is available on DVD, we can revisit these low budget movies that bridged the gap between cinema and television with recurring characters and comic situations. “Here Come The Marines” is one of the strongest examples.