It’s not canned theatre in spite of stage-derived origin, for William Wyler was too capable to betray that. Anyway, Dead End is distinctly something else, a class drama that doubtlessly made 1937 folk feel they were seeing real life and problems along mean streets as (presumably) existed then. Maybe their shtick was too urban-based, Northern-centric if you please, for a child of such outer provinces as myself. Was it my antipathy towards The Dead End Kids/Bowery Boys/whatever? I’d ducked them growing up for being obnoxious in that threadbare way that made The Three Stooges anathema, having condescended but to a pair they’d done with Bela Lugosi that I watched purely for him. ![]() To have been a Bogart completist and skipped Dead End for this many years seems odd. Turns out these are like buttons and bows for being an ideal tandem bill and barometers of juve delinquency as viewed by Hollywood. ![]() But for a thing called High-Definition, I might never have gotten around to watching two that had so far slipped my radar, Dead End and The Young Savages.
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