Noir Nocturne ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~an Outlander AU

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Noir Nocturne readers look what happened on Instagram today! Made with @repostregramapp from @duncan.lacroix https://www.instagram.com/p/B6T1Ca_nqca/?igshid=iblr68sr3v51

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Noir Nocturne ~ Part 1, Chapter 28?

Antonio Molinari stood in the restroom at the Rooftop Club, studying his face. He was a 34 year old, not unattractive, first generation Italian-American. He cleaned up nicely in his tux. Jet black hair, brown eyes, a slim mustache and build, five foot ten inches of lean muscle, and, as he was beginning to suspect, a drug problem. It was the cocaine that appeared so freely at the club, he was using it everyday now to work two jobs and meet the demands of his family.

He knew he was going to have to give something up. His family could never know what he was doing or they would put him in the ground. They would rather that than he make mistakes and talk. He would do the same, without a second thought were he in a position of authority. He should have been already, but he had not been made yet, being the youngest of four brothers had some disadvantages. Sure he killed before, but nothing sanctioned, it was impossible to be a bootlegger and not have fired shots. People walked wary with him because of who he was, not because of what he did or how. His family name meant something and it kept him generally safe, but in trying to show his worth, he took on too much.

In his line of work, he thought while burning another line up his nostril, it was all about connections. Family, business, unions, films, clubs, gambling, booze, whores, cops and blood circled in an axis of money. The airport thing was not going to last much longer. He had only done it as a favor for Blake and Grant anyway, and to give him something “respectable” if the feds or police not on the payroll came calling. That was the first thing that could go, and new blood was needed in this business, so he could focus on that for awhile.

He thought about the four Scots he had overseen today. Strange breed, but they might do, and if they did, he would have more on his small crew. They could never be made, but that did not matter. They were hard workers, and if they could be taught to earn, more to the good. He’d chosen the one called Murtagh to connect with because he liked the look of him. Hard and quiet, but strong, and something told him he was not a stranger to weapons. He just had that air. The real bonus was that Grant had told him they were fresh off the boat, meaning they would have no allegiance to any family, especially the Cohen’s, who were allies, but not to be trusted.

He would wait and see if they showed up at the site tomorrow to study them further. If Murtagh called tonight, he would start him in the club, and feel him out for running booze. Cleaning off the sink shelf and giving himself a wink in the mirror, he then headed back to the dancer he was taking home tonight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was a quieter affair then the previous night. There was some small talk but nothing to do with them and Claire was glad she had the time to study the men. They seemed tired, but ok. She let Jamie know that she was heading upstairs to get their kilts and taking them to the basement and that he should come down after he had had his shower so she could show him how the machine worked. She didn’t mind doing his really, but damned if she would do theirs. He had smiled a slow smile and nodded and they headed upstairs shortly thereafter.

Standing over the machine as it filled she finally had time to really think about her situation with him. She had feelings for Jamie, there were confused however. She felt guilt about Frank, worry about the possibility of a pregnancy, and her sexual attraction to Jamie was the strongest thing, which was puzzling. True, she liked sex, and the feeling of being more knowledgeable about the act than he, was a heady distraction, but, surely there must be more to it than that. She liked him a great deal, had from the start, but was she in love with him? When she thought about life without him, there was a twinge, but of what? Married less than a week, through circumstances well beyond her control, she just didn’t know. Sighing, she put a kilt in the water, squeezing it multiple times, then pulled it up to the wringer and began to turn the crank. She was surprised that Rhea hadn’t gotten the automatic version, but it was a far cry from washing in a bowl or in a river, indoor plumbing was such a blessing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jamie had taken a very quick shower, put on a clean set of work clothes, took his dirty ones up and headed down to the basement in time to see her pinning a kilt to the lines. “Sassenach, are you tired lass? We dinna have to do this now if ye are.” She looked fine to him, but she almost always did.

“No, it’s alright Jamie, see, there is nothing to it. There are electric ones of these now, but this is all done by hand.” Putting another one in, Angus’s from the smell of it, she went through the steps, then handed him the next one.

He had no idea what to say to her, and that bothered him greatly. He had so much he wanted to say, needed to, but where to begin? Pushing the kilt down in the water, he looked up and asked “Did ye like the Doctor and the Clinic then?” It would do.

“Yes, it isn’t really that difficult, and I think he found me competent. Hard to say how much he will actually let me do on a busy day though. Doctors now are a bit different then you know them. He’s a bit older than me, his wife is nice and the patients, while they think it strange I am “gringo, were not a bother.” She smiled at him then and he felt his waim turn over. “How was your day?” Her glass face looked a bit troubled, and he hastened to reassure her.

“We were fine Claire. Just hard work. No one bothered us and most of the men around us paid us no mind, but the one in charge of us did have a private word with Murtagh.” he said as reaching into his pocket to get the money he’d been paid, forgetting that his hands were wet. He handed over the damp bills with a wry grin. “Here, it is my pay for the day.” She took it, looking at him with a tilt of her head.

“Are you sure you would not rather hold on to it? I don’t mind. I won’t be paid for a few days yet.”

“Nae, you keep it lass, you know better than I what we will need it for aye?”

“Jamie…” she looked down and paused so he couldn’t see her face, but something in her stance made him swallow hard and begin turning the crank to lift the kilt. “Jamie, I think we should talk, about us, I don’t know where to start though.” She looked up and her eyes studied his face while her hands clasped together tightly.

He felt sick. “Oh, yes, we should, but can it wait until we are upstairs Sassenach?”

She turned to go, “Yes, I’ll send the other men down, and you show them this. I will meet you in our room.”

to be continued.

** sorry for the delay, and the missing titles to the chapters lately. I will fix them when I can. HBS.

[hardblazesong]

Coming tonight to a dash near you...

yet another chapter of @noir-nocturne

[hardblazesong]

GAH!

It’s not letting me edit the Noir Nocturne Chapter I just posted. Sorry, the correction has been made on A03. Sorry folks, just wanted to get it posted.

[hardblazesong]

Noir Nocturne ~ Part 1, Chapter 27

Molinari whistled and pointed to the men gathering in a line by the small building at the site bus stop. He then gave a “head there” motion waving his arm and started walking in that direction.

Jamie wiped the sweat off his head with a forearm and followed him. He was tired, grimy and a bit sore. Nothing one of those showers would not cure, or Claire’s hands, he grinned to himself. He signaled to Murtagh to have him catch up. He wanted to know what the wee chat was about.

Murtagh slowly made his way to him, a bit of limp on the left side. “Ye alright then man? What did yon fellow want?” Jamie asked when he got there.

Murtagh shrugged slightly, his face giving nothing away, as usual, and handed him the piece of paper with the number. “He said he had a bit of extra work, but just me, for now.”

“Ye dinna look ready for more work aye?” Jamie frowned as he looked him over again. “Ye’ll be lucky to do be able to do this again tomorrow.” He smiled a bit, teasing the older man, who was in fairly good fettle for his age.

“I’ll do. I will use the machine to call him later and ken what he’s askin.” Murtagh, said out the side of his mouth, keeping his voice low, as Dougal caught up with them. Angus lagged behind, grumbling and harrumphing. Neither of them asked about the conversation when they got to Jamie.

They finally got in to the line of men forming by the door to the small building and waited, Jaime assuming is was for their pay. Mr. Grant was at a desk, chomping on a cigar and making notations in a ledger, when the men got inside. He looked up at Jamie then handed him two dollars and fifty cents. Jamie wondered if this was a fair wage or not, but didn’t feel he was in a position to ask.

“You four come back tomorrow. Yer good workers, I’ll tell Blake. Now get lost.” Grant said and went on to the others.

“What do ye think he meant by getting lost?” Dougal asked Jamie as they went back out the door. “Ye think he was trying to be funny?”

“No idea.” he answered in the old tongue, not wanting anyone to know what they were talking about. The bus pulled up and they got on slowly, dragging a bit and dropping bits of mud and dust around on the floors runner as they paid the fare.

“Wonder what Mrs Rhea will feed us tonight?” Angus said as he slumped into a seat. None of the men responded. They then proceeded to stare out the windows and watch all the strangeness roll by as they headed home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nick and Nora Charles sat in a private sleeping car on the train from San Francisco. They were headed back to Los Angeles early, and Nora was rather put out. She had expected a leisurely holiday, if a bit awkward, with Nick’s parents. They would at least be able to dry out a bit after all the running and drinking they had been attending to since they wed. He wanted to go, so they went.

Hard as she tried, she could not stop him from missing his investigations, and she had tried every trick she knew. The drinking seemed to be a substitute for the work. What he did was dangerous, interesting and infuriating. She was of two minds about it. He was so good at it, met all sorts of interesting characters, and was admired for it, but she was terrified she would lose him, either to the danger or the life he had had before.

“Mrs. Charles do please stop scowling at me. Your face will set like that dear.” Nick laughed as he handed her the newspaper he had been pretending to read. He sat back on the bed, crossed his legs and looked somewhat bored. “Drink dear?”

“It is just that I do not understand why Nicky.” she sighed and she nodded yes. What in the world has you so enthralled in Los Angeles that you would break your Mother’s heart by departing early?“ She smiled her best impish smile to let him know that she didn’t mean the last bit, much.

“Mother will be glad I am not letting Asta destroy her yard, and I just want to check on something at the office. Since you made me close the northern one, I have to have someplace to escape you dear.” He took out his flask and poured her a small bit of whatever was in it in the cap.

Oh, she thought, and hoped he was kidding on the last part. He had married late, a confirmed bachelor until she came along. She had no doubt he loved her, but she did rather think that marriage was a bit much for him at times.

He put back his flask, picked up the dog and smiled warmly to take the sting away. “Darling, wait until you meet the Scots at Bartlett’s and you won’t be wandering any longer.”

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Claire was sitting on the front porch waiting for the men. She was trying to remember what she knew about horse races. She could recall the name of the triple crown winner this year. This year, how odd to think that about 1930 as this year, but that wouldn’t do, it was already over. She could hear the baseball game on the radio inside and switched to what she could recall from Uncle Lamb and the Yanks during the war about the games. Dear Lamb, where was he now, was the younger version of herself with him? Where had they been in 1930? She couldn’t quite remember. It was a bit fuzzy about the edges, but then so much seemed to be, she couldn’t quite concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time.

“Whatever is that sigh about Mrs. Fraser?” said a smiling Ronald Coleman coming up the steps. “Was work dreary?” Heavens but he was even more handsome up close, and that voice! She could listen to him for hours she thought as she blushed fiercely and looked to her lap to cover it.

“Oh! No, no, nothing like that Mr. Coleman, I just seem to be a bit scattered.” She found the nerve and looked up, a bit of a wobbly smile on her own face, but her heart was beating just a bit hard.

“Well, what you need is a feeding up! Come along and tell me about your day as we harass Rhea in the kitchen.” He took her arm, bending over the chair, and she felt a bit light headed as she stood to follow.

“I do wish you would call me Ronald, please never Chuck, I have had a wonderful day on the sound stage, doing absolutely nothing while the sound men argued over the placement of the microphones. I do so love getting paid to sit around.”

They went through to the kitchen, but there was no sign of Rhea. Everything smelled wonderful though, and there was chicken frying in two skillets on the stovetop, so she was happy to stand by the sink. He looked around conspiratorially and grabbed the kettle. “Tea, tea is the best thing for waiting, don’t you think?”

She tried to remember the last movie she had seen him in. Perhaps Random Harvest? He had been nominated for an Academy Award for that, but of course she couldn’t tell him. He was busying himself with the tea things when she heard loud stomping on the front porch.

“That will be the men back, excuse me please.” She went towards the sound, glad to be away from him, he just made her too nervous, and it annoyed her. Yes, the men were on the porch, and thank God, they all seemed to be in one piece, but they were filthy. “Oh dear, I will get a broom before Mrs. Bartlett sees that. I would go change if I was you lot. Perhaps start the showers before dinner?” She turned to go but Jamie caught her by the shoulder before she could.

“Are ye well Sassenach? Did you have any trouble today?” He grinned at her, that slow half grin of his, and her stomach did another bit of fluttering.

“Fine, just fine Jamie. I can not wait to hear how all of you did, and why it looks like you brought half of the airport home on your clothes, but I really should get the broom. Dinner is in thirty minutes, you can probably beat the men to the shower, but please, no walking across the hall naked, I do not know where Rhea is, and I do not believe I would like her reaction to seeing you au naturel.” She patted his hand and strode off.

[hardblazesong]

**There were a few typos in this so edited, and the chapter count may be off, will correct as needed.

[hardblazesong]

Noir Nocturne: Part 1 Chapter 26 ~ Airports and Clinics

Murtagh grunted, dumped the rocks and started back to the field. It was tedious, muscle aching work, but he felt good just the same. The sun was fair shining and a slight breeze helped to cool him. Could nae ask for more than that at the moment.

Molinari had checked on them a time or two, nodded and set off elsewhere, but it must be nigh on time to eat. Breakfast had been a long ways off. Funny how a man settled right in to getting enough to eat when he could. He’d starved a time or two, and had no desire to ever feel that again.

He had time to think over the events of the last few days as he bent for more of the rocks though, and decided he could learn to like this place. It wasn’t that he felt at all settled mind ye, just that it was no so bad so far and Jamie seemed mostly sorted. He chuckled lowly as he huffed a bit getting a large stone in the barrow. He often had found his self talk amusing, but the thought of the lad so content with his mistress tickled him.

“BREAK!” shouted Molinari coming over with a large box. The men gathered around, sweating a bit, but none the worse for wear. “Here’s your food” the man called as he started handing out sandwiches wrapped in odd paper, two each. He gave them each a bottle of water and sat down and started to play with his own meal.

The sandwiches were some kind of meat Murtagh didn’t recognize, but they smelled alright. It was a crusty bread, a bit salty and white on the inside, so that was fine. He lifted a brow after another sniff at it and turned to Molinari, who laughed, and said “Bologna with mustard. It will keep yous workin.”

Angus, who had stuffed his mouth full without even looking at what it was he eating, said around the food “What’s your story then?” Dougal turned towards him and gave him a slight frown and a wee shake of the head, clearly meaning he should be quiet.

“That’s none ya damn business. You got ten mins left then back at it.” Molinari did not sound angry when he said this, but he had had another closer look over all the men. Then he stood up, walked a few feet away and pointed at Murtagh. “Come here man.”

He went and mumbled his name and “Ye dinna have to call me man.” Molinari grinned, took out a small pad of paper and quickly wrote down a number. He squinted a bit when he looked back at Murtagh “If you find you need some extra work, call that number, ask for Antonio, that’s me, I have something you could help with. Maybe the others too, but for now, just you. When you hear the loud whistle blow, that will be the day, head back to the office, get your pay and hit the bus. I will see you tomorrow, same time. With a nod, he strode off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire stood looking over the medicine cabinets in the surgery. So nice to see again. She thought she might miss her herbs though, and made a mental note to see if the Dr. would let her store some here. There was plenty of room to plant the more common items at the boarding house. Not being familiar with the the landscape of California, she would have to do a bit of searching for the others.

The day had been busy, with a steady flow of patients. She assisted as much as Dr. Hernandez would let her, and listened to everyone as carefully as she could. Minor sprains, abrasions, heart palpitations, sore throats and one rather nasty case of chicken pox, run of the mill stuff. She did give two shots though, and she asked the Dr. if she could bring the men in to get them on Saturday. He could take the fee from her wages. Just another thing to add to her endless list. The thought of any of them falling ill due to lack of immunity to the times made her slightly nauseated. They were in general good health though, so she told herself, it would be alright.

Mrs. Hernandez was patient and kind. Claire took careful notice of all the patients, and once they got past what she looked like, seemed to be alright with her calm demeanor and few words. The day had been tiring surprisingly, probably just worry and unfamiliarity with the pace of it all. She would adjust.

She took her leave at the end of the day, and said she would be back day after next with a grateful smile. She missed the first bus, so she had time to spare to take a few moments to get her bearings. She forced thoughts of Jamie down. She must focus on what else they all may need, and see to it tomorrow. She had forgotten to ask what her pay might be, but was hoping the men made, at the very least, 1.50 for the day a man, as Mr. Blake said they were good wages.

Just another thing to adjust to, the need for currency again and not the general barter the past had accustomed her to. She took a deep breath of the lightly fragrant air and took in her surroundings. Perhaps she could do the laundry while the men listened to the radio. She would take one of them down and show them how it was done.

The next bus arrived and she stepped lightly on, going over her lists in her head.

to be continued

[hardblazesong]

Coming tonight! Next Chapter Noir Nocturne!

[hardblazesong]

Noir Nocturne ~ Part 1 Chapter 28 ~ Work Calls

Jamie looked the man over. He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Likely just the newness of everything, he told himself. He nodded to the man and signaled for the others to get closer. “Aye, Mr. Blake sent us.”

“Well, yous guys look strong enough for this. See that goombah over there with the red hat? Follow him. I’ll see ya at three to pay you for the day.” with that, Grant walked off to another group.

Murtagh mmphd, Dougal strode over with purpose and Angus followed him. Jamie took the man’s measure quickly. He saw there was a bit of jumpiness to him, as if he had bugs at his feet. He was thin, very tan, with dark hair and eyes that didn’t quite meet theirs.

“Molinari” said the man with a thumb tapping his chest. “You all will be hauling rocks for a bit. Wheelbarrows over there. See the field? Pick a section that’s been graded, grab the rocks that have been dug up, and dump them over there.” He pointed to a large mound about a quarter of a mile away across the huge field. “I’ll come for you when it is time to eat.” He then departed to yet another group of men.

“Well, nothing to it lads.” Dougal clapped his hands together and started towards the wheelbarrows. ~~~~~~~ Claire smiled at Dr. Hernandez and held out her hand as she looked over what she could see from the entrance. “Pleased to meet you Doctor.  I am Claire Fraser, and I do have a working knowledge of Spanish, but it is a bit rusty. I hope that will not be a problem?”

Dr. Hernandez was an attractive older man, who looked like he could be Ramon Navarro’s brother. Well built, taller than Claire, bit of a middle aged spread she saw, but that was life well fed she thought.  He wore a white double breasted Dr’s coat and a stethoscope. She felt herself relax just a fraction. This was familiar. The inside of the clinic was spotless, if a bit run down. The beds, cabinets, and implements all looked like they could have come from WW1. There was a reception desk and waiting area to the right. Nothing special about it, but it was tidy. 

The large room to the left, where the beds were curtained off, was empty of patients. She could hear someone singing in Spanish down the hall. He pointed to the desk with a slight nod. “My wife is the receptionist, here she comes.” He said with a warm smile down the hallway. “I am sure you will be fluent in no time Mrs. Fraser. Not to worry, my wife will assist. Your duties today are to familiarize yourself with my methods. See a bit of everything here because the people do not trust the English clinics. I do hope you are not squeamish. I can only afford to have you here three days a week. I will need you here at nine and you must leave by four. You pick which days, but one must be a Saturday, as that is my busiest time.”

Claire was feeling more at ease by the moment. She felt a small twinge of worry about the men and then put that out of her mind as the front door opened again and an elderly couple came in. She hung her hat and suit jacket on the hall tree by the door and in her best nurses voice said “Shall we get started then Dr.?”

The elderly couple stopped short of the desk and turned to look at her with slight frowns. Mrs. Hernandez said something Claire didn’t catch, but it must of been reassuring because they smiled and went in to the waiting room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Father McDaniel sat in the rectory library musing over a cup of strong black coffee. He could not get the travelers out of his mind. He had told Nick about them, without saying where they came from. “No need to let him think you have lost your marbles” he sighed to himself over the steam from the cup. The thing was, he believed it, needed to believe it, and wanted to. Mrs. Bartlett had called, such a gossip. Ah well, she would certainly tell him if anything was amiss. Thus far, all seemed to be going well, but he doubted very much that the reality of their situation had hit them yet. How to explain the Depression? The World War? The changes in mores? He took a large slug of the coffee and concentrated on their Catholicism. That would help. He was not overly worried about Claire, but he was saddened by her lack of confession. What was that about? He would call the clinic later and get the Dr.’s take on her. There was something amiss there, but he could not put his finger on it.

[noir-nocturne]

You've really disappeared ?

Nah, just had a lot going on in life, but I have made it one of my MPC goals to finish this (At least Part 1). NEW CHAPTER TONIGHT!

[noir-nocturne]

What on earth on earth is a PM? Will we get a small gift in honour of Christmas?

Private message, direct message. Well, not Christmas? :)

[hardblazesong]

Guess what is coming tonight?

That’s right! NEW CHAPTER of NOIR NOCTURNE! Coming to your dash!!!!

Might I suggest you head over to @noir-nocturne or AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265192/chapters/25188702

and refresh your memory of the story thus far? :)

[noir-nocturne]

What on earth separated them? Jamie's not the type to let go of his woman easily. They have to reunite, it's unthinkable for them not to. What are the power dynamics between them?

LOL bless you, but you will have to keep reading to find out. I know, I know, I’ve been VERY bad about updating this, but I have it back on my daily schedule What on Earth Anon!

[delfedelune]

The Rake Magazine (x)

[the-sassynach]

Ehm sorry Mr Heughan this is rude

[hardblazesong]

Totally my boy The Private Investigator in the opening of @noir-nocturne

Thanks Sam, the Rake, and the photographer!

[hardblazesong]

Visit Original Link

shoutouts to @notevenjokingfic for the great story posted below, a recommendation from @balfeheughlywed re a story from @bonniebird17, a keep going to @pissedoffsoka13 and my continuing excuses for why I haven’t written on @noir-nocturne in ages, also my general take on Outlander fanfic.

[hardblazesong]

YES PLEASE GO BACK TO NOIR-NOCTURNE BECAUSE I LOVED IT! THANK YOU. ❤️

Ah, thank you sweetie. Can you say WHY you loved it? maybe that will motivate me? Honestly, it has just come down to motivation on my part at this point. I mean I liked it, I liked writing it, I like where I was going with it, but something, and I truly don’t know what, stalled me utterly. Thus that question I put up. I’m not trolling for compliments here (really) I just want to know what was working and why.

[hardblazesong]

I liked Noir because it was very unique. I like the 30"s atmosphere and all the guys needing to rely on Claire. I am thinking that Claire gets blackmailed into joining Hollywood movies to protect the guys but things go wrong, Jamie helps her and learns she was blackmailed.

Thanks Doll! I will say, she is being blackmailed, but not quite how you think :)

[filmstruck]

A Handy Guide to Wild Bill Wellman’s Prolific Pre-Code Productions by Stuart Collier

The early 1930s, when Hollywood was at its most assembly-line efficiency, was an age of extraordinarily prolific filmmaking. Studios had the resources and streamlined production hierarchies to unload one briskly paced feature after another – never again would the average lifecycle of a film production be so compact. But nowhere was efficiency more operative than at Warner Bros. The studio most frequently exemplified the virtues of ’30s studio filmmaking. It is not unusual to find years in which a Michael Curtiz or a Roy Del Ruth directed a half-dozen features.

But William Augustus “Wild Bill” Wellman, perhaps the foremost talent at the studio (after all, he was already honored for having directed the first Best Picture winner, WINGS [’27]), for he cranked out motion pictures with extraordinary rapidity without ever seeming to toss them off. Largely devoid of sentimentality and inflected by the harsh reality of Depression-era existence, Wellman’s approach to cinema keyed into the hardscrabble specifics of life in America.

For those who wish to dive into this body of work but don’t know where to start (it’s a lot of movies, after all), I hope the following guide can be of some help:

THE PUBLIC ENEMY (’31)

No Wellman film is more iconic. Even those who have never heard the name of the great director behind James Cagney’s star-making performance are familiar with its reputation (the notoriety of the so-called grapefruit scene will never fade). Come to see the groundwork being laid for the Warner’s “gangster movie” archetype, stay for Wellman’s propulsive, hard-bitten direction.

NIGHT NURSE (’31) Of all the actors Wellman collaborated with over the years, none was more an ideal filmmaking partner than Barbara Stanwyck. Her fierce, firecracker performances arose from her pained upbringing within the kind of working-class milieu that Wellman was so adept at depicting. NIGHT NURSE is a movie about working nobly within one’s profession – and there are few nobler than nursing – even in the midst of day-to-day corruption (epitomized most dynamically by a young Clark Gable as a particularly menacing chauffeur).

SAFE IN HELL (’31) Wellman had a knack for rendering the essential sordidness of life, and for Dorothy Mackaill’s character in the provocatively titled SAFE IN HELL, it doesn’t get much more sordid than having to flee a life of prostitution after being pinned for the murder of the man who led her there. Absconding to a Caribbean island to escape the law, she finds that she’s been quartered in a hotel with a small band of ruthless international criminals. But for all of Wellman’s female protagonists, survival is the name of the game and Mackaill plays it like a pro.

SO BIG! (’32)

Billed as an “Epic of American Womanhood,” this Barbara Stanwyck vehicle based on the Edna Ferber bestseller is less pungent than most of Wellman’s films of the era, but it keys in thematically with his recurrent focus on loss, poverty and emotional compromise. Like the same year’s FRISCO JENNY, this is a drama about the socio-economic challenges of motherhood, but there’s plenty more to here to chew on.

THE PURCHASE PRICE (’32)

Stanwyck plays a torch-singer beset by criminal associations, who decides to push the reset button on life – by posing as a male-order bride. When she meets the North Dakota farmer (George Brent) to whom she has pledged her life, the opportunities for fish-out-of-water laughs seem inexhaustible. But when the laughs are exhausted, Wellman manages to regard his two protagonists with a surprising measure of pathos. And, typical of Wellman, it is when economic realities come to encroach on the story that more deeply felt emotions start to emerge.

FRISCO JENNY (’32)

Before MGM recreated the 1906 earthquake that shook its city to its knees for its lavish production of SAN FRANCISCO (’36), Wellman made it happen for a fraction of the budget. And instead of building up to the cataclysm, Wellman gets it out of the way early. The real story is that of the title character (Ruth Chatterton) who, like many Wellman protagonists, finds it impossible to make her way through an unforgiving urban landscape without giving in to criminality. But this queen of vice is also a mother, and the film’s emotional suspense rides on the fact that her son is completely in the dark as to her identity.

LILLY TURNER (’33)

Ruth Chatterton reteamed with Wellman for this seedy drama about a naïve woman who marries a bigamist and falls in with a low-rent carnival populated by an alarming number of lustful and avaricious male grotesques. Chatteron’s cynicism is palpable – even if the loving and rescuing arms of George Brent await.

HEROES FOR SALE (’33)

With the possible exception of WILD BOYS OF THE ROAD made in the same year, this is Wellman’s Depression-era opus, a film about a World War I veteran named Thomas Holmes (Richard Barthelmess) who finds no respite from warfare upon returning home. As Wellman makes unambiguously clear, Thomas has only exchanged mortars and grenades for economic disenfranchisement, and class warfare is no less demanding than its military variant. As he fights for a place in society, Thomas is leading the fight for all workers – New Deal agitprop was rarely so emotionally affecting.

MIDNIGHT MARY (’33)

This Loretta Young vehicle appears to hew to the women’s picture formula – the eponymous put-upon heroine on trial for a murder she may have been justified in committing – but the tone is less saccharine than it is unflinching. For Wellman, it is poverty and victimization – not spiritual rot or moral failure – that are the most salient drivers of criminality. But however misunderstood Mary may be, Wellman steadfastly refuses to milk his anguished protagonist for easy sympathy.

WILD BOYS OF THE ROAD (’33)

Here is a truly staggering work, which begins as a picaresque adventure before its youthful protagonists collide with The Great Depression and all its attendant cruelties. Of all of the Wellman films offered by FilmStruck, this stands out as the most vibrant and the most unique – a heart-wrenching cry for help on the part of the nation’s impoverished youth at a time when the country had very little help to give.