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| Is there an odd duck in the Ed Wood filmography? |
Every famous director, it seems, has that one movie in his filmography—the one that doesn't quite fit in with its siblings. Whatever the cause, be it thematic or stylistic or both, these movies stand apart from the ones that came before and the ones that came after. They're like little islands unto themselves. Think of Stanley Kubrick's Barry Lyndon (1975), Ingmar Bergman's Hour of the Wolf (1968), John Waters' Desperate Living (1977), and Alfred Hitchcock's Marnie (1964).
I don't want to call these movies black sheep or redheaded stepchildren, because that would imply that they were unwanted or rejected by the public. That's not necessarily true, though these movies often receive less attention and less love than a director's more "typical" films. Let's instead call them odd ducks. I think it's healthy to have at least one of these per career. Maybe more than one.
It's hard to tell which film might qualify as Robert Altman's odd duck. Popeye (1980) comes to mind. But let's not forget HealtH (1980), Quintet (1979), and O.C. and Stiggs (1985). Lotta odd ducks in Bob's filmography. By contrast, David Lynch is such a well-known eccentric and surrealist that his most conventional movie, The Straight Story (1999), is paradoxically his odd duck. As you can see already, odd duckishness is a difficult thing to define.
So what about Edward D. Wood, Jr.? Is there an odd duck in his career? If so, I'd say it's Jail Bait (1954). I can't tell you why exactly, but there's something about this movie that sets it apart from everything else he did as a director. Maybe it's the fact that it's Eddie's first attempt at film noir. (Does The Sinister Urge [1960] count as his second?) Maybe it's that nerve-jangling music on the soundtrack. Maybe it's the fact that Criswell, Paul Marco, Bela Lugosi, and Tor Johnson are all AWOL.
But I think what really sets Jail Bait apart is its lack of a moral center. It may be Ed's first movie without a true hero. Sure, there are a couple of cops on the case—Inspector Johns (Lyle Talbot) and Lieutenant Lawrence (Steve Reeves)—but they accomplish very little. The solution to the case is basically just handed to them at the end, give or take a poolside shootout. Besides, we spend more time with surly young Don Gregor (Clancy Malone), Jail Bait's sweaty, quavery-voiced antihero. The people in Don's life are of no help to him, either bullying him (the cops, Vic Brady) or nagging him (his father and sister).
In short, Don Gregor has no safe, comfortable place to go. There's nowhere he fits in. Consequently, we in the audience have no place where we feel comfortable during Jail Bait. There are no happy, well-adjusted people in this movie. That alone sets Jail Bait apart from Ed Wood's other 1950s movies. In Glen or Glenda (1953), Bride of the Monster (1955), and Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957), there are romantic couples we are meant to like and empathize with. Whatever else may happen, we know that these sets of characters love each other. Nothing like that in Jail Bait. A halfhearted romance between Dolores Fuller and Steve Reeves is barely hinted at and never materializes. What good would it have done anyway? This isn't that kind of movie.
So that's why I feel Jail Bait qualifies as the odd duck of Ed Wood's career. Perhaps that's why it remains the least shown and least known of his 1950s creations. What do you think?