YOUNG MAN WITH A HORN: Blu-ray (Warner Bros., 1950) Warner Archive

Hollywood’s hard luck stories about the perennially hopeful and aspiring continue to appeal to the underdog in us all. Yet, nowhere is this milieu more heart-rending, if only occasionally fully to be realized, than in the field of entertainment, a fictional principality, mostly born of the spun gold/smoke-and-mirror yarns of yore, and, of the stuff that ‘dreams’ are supposed to be made. Stories about people attempting to be great artists as well as good solid citizens remind us of the tenuous cakewalk the rich and famous perform, only six degrees of separation between their ultra-fame and uber-self-destruction. Director, Michael Curtiz’s Young Man with a Horn (1950) is a tale of just such a man – jazz trumpeter, Rick Martin (played with merciless, if flawed, dedication by Kirk Douglas). The character is actually based on Bix Beiderbecke, a jazz cornetist who came to an untimely end. But in Mr. Martin, it seems we have the ideal template of the virtuoso damn near straining his own life into vinegar. Despite his enviable talent (sorry folks, but the trumpeting here is dubbed by the marvelous Harry James), Rick hasn’t the good sense God gave a lemon to manage his great art with the travails of being a respectable human being. So, what follows in the screenplay, co-authored by black-listed writer, Carl Foreman and Edmund H. North, quickly devolves into the sort of soapy reverse sexism froth usually ascribed female heroines, and, in hindsight, best left to the mixed-up romantic foibles of Helen Trent or, more directly, the Perils of Pauline. Young Man with a Horn is a cautionary tale for all men; first, to consider what their testosterone-driving ambitions to ‘be a somebody’, at the expense of just being a mensch, can do to their ego, and second, a warning about what one bad girl usually does to mash up their single-minded pursuits into pulped hash gumbo from whence no one departs unscathed.  

So, Rick gets, not what he wants, but what he deserves – a chance at the big-time that proves his undoing and a quick spiral into the darkest despair at the bottom of the bottle, while ballin’ the wrong girl, naughty dabbler, Amy North (Lauren Bacall, riffing on her hard-boiled babes from the Bogart strain in her career). Rick is a maestro in the nightclubs, in total control of his hot licks. His destiny? Hmmmm. But oh, what a temper, and how selfish can a guy get, ostracizing his devoted mentor, jazzman, Art Hazzard (Juano Hernandez). Somewhere along the way, Rick also picks up a groupie – Jo Jordan (Doris Day), the vivacious vocalist who silently pines for his touch. When it comes to his career, Rick’s a steamroller. The only one who can reach him is piano player, Smoke Willoughby (Hoagy Carmichael) whose own passion for music has been reigned in and rather introspectively counterbalanced by a relatively normal private life.  So, Smoke is Rick’s guardian angel…sort of. Histrionically artificial, but strangely anemic, Young Man with a Horn looks the part of gritty Warner Bros. ‘ripped from the headlines’ movie magic, thanks to Edward Carrere’s art direction, and, Ted D. McCord’s evocative cinematography, big on recreating the smoky ambiance of all those stardust ballrooms. Although not a musical, Day’s rendition of ‘The Very Thought of You’ remains a standout here – her preprocessed wholesomeness, otherwise occasionally getting in the way of her performance. I think in this movie we can all relate to Groucho Marx’s quip about knowing Day before she was a virgin!

Carmichael gets a few choice opportunities to tickle the ivories, while the Harry James’ trumpeting represents yet another ‘high water’ mark for the picture, with wonderfully staged performances aptly aped by Douglas throughout. Were that Young Man with a Horn was a musical, it might have fared better. Instead, producer, Jerry Wald’s yen for telling syrupy fluff is working overtime to draw out something from these otherwise one-dimensional characters.  Day’s the good girl – the one Rick should, and eventually does wind up with… but that is all. There is nothing behind her ‘Sweet Polly Purebred’ except a heart that beats ‘Suzy Cream Cheese’ overtures to this wayward Lochinvar. On the flipside is Bacall’s brutal ‘bad girl’ – all bad – and, at times, so unattractive in her mannerisms one distinctly wonders how Rick could have fallen for the pretty face with no soul behind it. You can spot Amy’s flaws from an airplane, but oh, what a good chassis can do for a gal’s morale, and a guy’s inability to see through it until it’s almost too late. Predictably, Bacall’s enfeebled femme fatale goes the way of the dodo before the final fade to black, and Rick awakens to a reality: Jo is the only gal for him.  Douglas gives a fairly solid impression of being able to play the trumpet, and, is a real tour de force when his character’s push comes to shove. But otherwise, he comes across as just a monolithic fellow in search of another small-time gig to play. As Amy, jazz, and, booze take their toll, Douglas aptly gives a fairly impressive account of what sluts and the sauce can do to derail a guy’s chances at the big time. But it remains all just a lot of smoke and mirrors, bedecked in the vintage trappings of a pseudo-noir-styled story, slickly packaged, yet otherwise clumsily sticks to the ribs like a bad case of the bloat in need of the bromide.  

As hard luck fables go, this one begins with the death or Rick’s mother while he is just a lad. In lieu of maternal warmth, Rick picks up the trumpet and fast becomes an outstanding, self-taught musician, his innate gifts honed by the great jazzman, Art Hazzard. Rick lands a gig with Jack Chandler’s (Walter Reed) orchestra where he befriends piano accompanist, Smoke Willoughby and chanteuse, Jo Jordan. Jealous of Rick’s improv, Chandler orders him to always play the music exactly as written. Thus, when Rick departs from the program, leading Chandler's band in an impromptu jam session that brings down the house, it also gets him fired. Mad about the boy, Jo finds Rick a gig with a dance orchestra in New York. Ah, but Jo is naïve, and casually introduces Rick to her best friend, Amy North who is studying to be a psychiatrist, yet otherwise could use a good dose of ‘the couch’ herself, never having recovered from her own mother’s suicide.  And despite her rather cool claim, Amy is incapable of love, Rick is drawn to her immediately, the two, embarking upon a torrid affair. As their co-dependent relationship blossoms, Rick abandons old friends. In a ‘last ditch’ effort to save the man she loves, though mostly from himself, Jo attempts to explain Amy is just too troubled to be saved, a conversation overheard by Amy who now informs Jo she and Rick are newlyweds.

Amy abhors jazz. So, it remains a curiosity why she should fall for a jazz musician, and furthermore, why Rick – so slavishly devoted to his art – would find someone who frowns upon it, attractive in the first place. To fill her days – and nights – Amy decides to return to her studies. Predictably, the relationship begins to suffer. Rick takes notice that, in his absence, Amy has found ‘other ways’ to preoccupy her time. She isn’t spending her nights at home. Heart sore, Rick becomes reckless and sullen, hitting the bottle pretty hard and beating himself up for his wife’s indiscretions. Art tries a little tenderness to ease his ole pal’s strain. But Rick turns on Art, unloading all of his frustrations. Deeply wounded by their altercation, Art walks out of the bar in a daze and is struck by an oncoming car.  As Rick knows nothing of this, he is informed about Art upon arriving at the club to rehearse. Racing to the hospital, Rick learns Art has since died from his injuries. From here, Rick’s home life worsens. He and Amy frequently quarrel, and she admits he was only a passing phase – not her main stay. Rick admonishes Amy for her shallowness and later, at a cocktail party she throws on the eve of Art’s funeral, he informs her of a new sensation to add to her tapestry of life – divorce. Playing erratically, Rick is let go from the orchestra. Bitterly, he destroys his trumpet and goes on a hellish bender, eventually winding up in a sanitarium.

This being Hollywood’s version of a great novel by Dorothy Parker, the ending becomes a muddle as Jo and Smoke arrive to encourage and coax Rick into sobriety. He recovers his health, his love of music, and the girl he ought to have wed in the first place – a happy ending never intended by Parker, who based her book on the tragic life of Bix Beiderbecke, a jazz cornet player who died in a hallucinogenic haze in his apartment in Queens, after raving to his rental agent, George Kraslow he was being accosted by two imaginary Mexicans hiding under his bed. Nothing as finite, or as theatrically rewarding is forthcoming in the frothy finale of Young Man with a Horn. Interestingly, Lauren Bacall always held to the story she had been solely responsible for helping to make Kirk Douglas a star. Over the years, this tale has morphed as each of its players mellowed, reflecting on the past through rose-colored glasses. For decades, Bacall’s insistence that she ‘discovered’ Douglas, irked Douglas, who preferred to believe he had made it in Hollywood on his own after a gentle push in the right direction. But when Bacall died in 2014, Douglas had a different impression to offer and a heartfelt glowing tribute for the woman he first met while both were studying acting at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. “People said Bacall was 'tough,’”, Douglas reasoned in presenting her with an honorary Academy Award in 2009, “She's a pussycat with a heart of gold.” Later, Douglas reflected, “It's hard to lose a friend, especially one with whom you have shared your dreams and your journey. In the case of Betty Bacall, I also lost my lucky charm — the girl who believed in me enough to talk Hal Wallis into giving me a Hollywood career. That was my first lesson in helping others without looking for thanks. I will continue to think about her whenever I put it into practice.”

Young Man with a Horn arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive, in a stunningly handsome B&W 1080p transfer, mastered from original nitrate elements and scanned in 4K.  What is here is appropriately film-like with concentrated grain that looks indigenous to its source. Ted D. McCord’s cinematography is gorgeous. This transfer really shows off his impeccable craftsmanship behind the camera, even down to minute dust particles filtering through the spotlights. Contrast is excellent. Blacks are deep and velvety. Whites are mostly pristine and never blooming. Good stuff here. The 2.0 DTS audio is excellent, especially Harry James’ trumpet-playing, featuring a ‘loud and crisp’ ambiance. Dialogue is always clean and precise. No complaints here. Extras? A bit of a letdown. We get a trailer for this movie, a radio adaptation and three Bugs Bunny cartoons. That’s all, folks! Bottom line: Young Man with a Horn is a passable, but generally unprepossessing drama that confirms an old adage about art imitating life. Something truth really is stranger than fiction! Recommended, but with caveats.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

1