The problem with adaptations of Damon Runyon works is that, when you get right down to it, his characters are criminals. Yes, all right, they’re charming and personable, but they’re criminals. The majority of them are fairly petty—bookies and various other kinds of gamblers. However, it’s clear if you read between the lines that they don’t stick to things like that. There are multiple killers in the stories, and of course there are bootleggers aplenty, and bootlegging led to worse things. The criminal underground isn’t harmless no matter how much whimsical slang it uses.
Our theoretical start today is the original Runyon story “Bloodhounds of Broadway,” in which a young man has been brought to New York by someone who thought his bloodhounds could work nicely in the motion pictures. Only not so much, and now John Wangle and his dogs, Nip and Tuck, are stuck in New York and extremely hungry. Our nameless narrator and a guy who goes by Regret because (involved story about horses) feed him and the dogs. Shenanigans happen, and the bloodhounds are used to track down the killer of a creep named Marvin Clay.
Well, we can’t have all that in 1952, so instead we have Robert “Numbers” Foster (Scott Brady), who is the target of a series of hearings in New York into, you know, organized crime. His girlfriend, Yvonne Dugan (Marguerite Chapman), is willing to pretty well commit perjury for him, but she’s less excited about the idea of going to Cuba, even in those days. When it appears the heat’s off, Numbers and his sidekick, Harry “Poorly” Sammis (Wally Vernon), drive up from Miami to New York. Along the way, they meet Emily Ann Stackerlee (Mitzi Gaynor) and take her along, initially planning to send her to school and get her able to marry a stockbroker or something.
Things were a lot looser in 1989. This time, instead of mostly making stuff up whole cloth, we have an adaptation of four different Runyon short stories, including, wonder of wonders, “Bloodhounds of Broadway.” We have John Wangle (Alan Ruck). We have Regret (Matt Damon). We have Marvin Clay (John Rothman) and Lovey Lou (Jennifer Grey), and of course we have a pair of bloodhounds. (They were there in the other one, too.) But we also have The Brain (Rutger Hauer) and Feet Samuels (Randy Quaid) and Handsome Jack (Esai Morales) and a wide array of other Runyon characters played by the oddest assortment of actors 1989 had to offer.
One of the other things the ‘52 gets wrong that the ‘89 gets right is the rhythm. Okay, so I’m not thrilled that Runyon dropped a few casual n-words in the original story, and there’s a character whose name I’m quite certain is just a shortened, rhyming version of said word starting with “Big.” So yeah. But also, you know, there’s a pattern to Runyon’s language, and it’s the appealing part of his stories. The ‘52 tries a bit, including asking an uncredited actor who was still going by Charles Buchinsky—his birth name—to give it a go, but it never gets in the flow.
That said, it can be a little much. The title story starts at “four bells,” and I realized as I read it that I didn’t actually know what time it was. So I looked it up, and I still don’t know what time it was. There are six different times that are identified by four bells, and while I suspect it’s most likely to be two in the morning, it could be six in the morning or ten at night, all of which feel possible given the lives the characters lead, and it would just be about staying up if it were six in the morning. I asked the Dapper Dinosaur, who is a naval veteran, and he said he never learned the bell system, because he had a watch.
The ‘52 movie is, you know, fine. Mitzi Gaynor sparkles, because of course she does. There are some decent musical numbers. Mitzi Green (ye Gods, two Mitzis) is a joy as “52nd Tessie” Sammis, Poorly’s sister. We’re still dealing with the Code, so crime can’t pay, but there’s a rare sympathetic cop character in Inspector McNamara (Michael O’Shea), not something you get in the original Runyon stories. Though he expressly likes Numbers because they went to reform school together.
Madonna was nominated for Worst Supporting Actress for the ‘89. Leaving aside how dire the Razzies are at the best of times—she was up against Kurt Russell, whom I therefore assume to have worn drag in Tango & Cash, because the Razzies are gonna Razzie, and lost to Brooke Shields—I don’t think she’s doing too bad here. She’s also hardly onscreen. She’s Hortense Hathaway, the love interest of Feets Samuel, and Feets is only in one of the stories. She’s not even the main drive of that story. The Razzies just don’t like her as an actress. Personally, though, I feel she’s staying happily in her lane here.
Obviously neither of these are the best Runyon adaptation. That is Guys and Dolls. No number Mitzi Gaynor does is as fun as “Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ the Boat.” It is surprising to see a sweet little musical number between Jennifer Grey and Madonna, but not as surprising as how well Marlon Brando handles “Luck Be a Lady Tonight.” Still, both of these are fun enough. The stories are fun if you’re a fan of Runyon. They’re all accessible, too, for a wonder—a book with all four stories is on our beloved Internet Archive, and both movies are for rent in assorted places. What a relief that is.
Next month, we’ll be delving into the foster care system with the autobiography of Anna Perrott Rose, then Cary Grant, with Room For One More.