Souls of Sin

My suspicions were immediately aroused when TCM host Jacqueline Stewart, in her intro, failed to mention the name of this film's writer/director while leaving the distinct impression that the auteur was producer William D. Alexander. Uh oh, I thought. Looks like we're in for some bad writing and directing. And sure enough, after fifteen minutes, my fears were borne out. How bad was it? Well let's just say that the best thing about the dialogue is the poor sound quality which enabled this viewer to hear maybe 50% of the flat, cliche ridden speech the characters were mouthing. As for the direction I've seen "Life Of Reilly" episodes that were more cinematically compelling. Basically, just point the camera at the actors while they're speaking that execrable dialogue and hope that they stay in frame. As for said actors it's a mixed bag. The males in the cast do ok but the two females Billie Allen and Savannah Churchill, although sexy as hell, have the personalities of handi wipes. At least Ms. Churchill can sing.

It gives me np pleasure to have written the above. Show biz in the 1940s was bad enough for established black stars but it was unmitigated hell for black film makers. I really wish I could have found something in this film, beside the dance numbers at the bar and Ms. Churchill's singing, to praise. But pretending that Pumpsie Green is the equal of Jackie Robinson (or even Joe Black) just because they were pioneer African American ballplayers does nothing but cheapen the legacy of Robinson. And this film is undeniably Pumpsie Green. Give it a C minus.