The Last Mile

A remake of a 1932 film of the same name, The Last Mile tells the story of a group of nine inmates on death row. More violent than the original (a little shocking since sex and violence were the primary selling points of the Pre-Code era), but clearly originating from a play, The Last Mile proves more frustrating than anything.

The camera frequently just sits in one locked location and watches as the various inmates in the cell block twist, contort, and deliver long dialog passages at a time. They’re lined up against one side of the building, with a police desk sitting towards the middle. In adapting a stage show, one must take into consideration that what works on a stage may not work on film. That simple rule was either forgotten or totally ignored here.

Try as the actors might, and they’re assembled from a gallery of supporting players with recognizable faces if their names are escaping, they just can’t rise above this sluggish directing choices. Mickey Rooney, the headliner, plays it all subtle and quiet during the first half, before getting a chance to exploit his volcanic screen presence and charisma in the second. I know it’s easy to write off Rooney as a ham, and in various musical comedies he could be a huge one, but if given a strong guiding hand, he could be surprisingly malleable to a variety of genres and styles. I wouldn’t say this is one of his greatest performances, but it’s a solid and dark turn from the former Andy Hardy star.

It may not be a great film, but with Rooney and a cast of relative unknowns doing some commendable work, The Last Mile is at least worth a cursory look. It’s a decent enough B-movie, but you’ll be spending a decent amount of time watching it and wondering how much better it could have been if the budget was larger, a few more retakes could be done, and if the direction had been livelier.