Where do they get these generic titles from? "Another Dawn," "Tomorrow is Forever," "Guns of Darkness." This title, "Tomorrow Is Another Day," I would guess was ripped off from the last line of "Gone With The Wind." The producers reckoned that, by 1951, since "Gone With The Wind" had never been shown after its initial release, the last line, one of the most memorable, was buried somewhere in our collective unconscious. It probably rang the public's chimes but they couldn't identify the source.
Actually, it's a rather nifty B movie with a couple of endearing qualities and it's worth watching.
The writers did a good job of catching the tenuous quality of life on the run from the law. This isn't "They Live By Night" but it's in the same ballpark. Steve Cochran is an ex con and Ruth Roman becomes his moll. After an accidental but lethal shooting they leave New York and travel across the United States by stolen rides on boxcars and trucks, and by hitch hiking and walking. They come to earth in Salina, California at the start of the lettuce-picking season, and although the work is hard, they make a living and fall in love to the extent that they are married and Roman becomes pregnant. The experienced viewer of 1950s movies knows this mundane paradise can't last. The police finally catch up with them, but not to worry. It's not a tragedy.
The budget was from hunger. Yet the writers have managed to capture a lot of quotidian details. The couple first take flight to the house of Roman's brother in New Jersey. He's willing to put them up but his wife argues heatedly against it. Later, desperate for a ride, they climb aboard one of those trucks carrying half a dozen cars on its trailer, and a suspenseful scene follows in which they try to get the keys and open one of the cars where they can lie down and sleep. The lettuce scenes are out of "The Grapes of Wrath" but the pay is better.
It's not flawless. We first see Ruth Roman in a dime-a-dance place in New York, probably modeled on Roseland, where I once met a pretty girl ninety five years ago whose name I can still remember, Rose Brown. (Who could forget it?) Anyway, Roman is wearing a puffy platinum wig that's almost fluorescent. She speaks like a tart, or tries to. And she wheedles gifts and money out of poor Cochran, who doesn't know his way around because he's spent more than half his life in the Crowbar Hotel. She later reveals her brunettedness.
Well, I'll tell you. Ruth Roman is rather a dull actress, whatever the part, but least of all is she suited to the kind of role that might fit Marie Windsor or Gloria Graham. She's bourgeois. No getting around it. She was bourgeois in "Strangers on a Train" and she will always be bourgeois, except that here she sound like a bourgeois trying desperately to mimic a cheap whore.
And Steve Cochran -- a beacon for all of us who want to be Hollywood stars but lack talent. When he enters the frame, a gaping black hole appears and swallows up everything else.
But there is a good deal of tension throughout the movie, once you get used to Roman as a dance hall girl and Cochran as a morose ex murderer. Given the strictures of the plot, the dialog at times shows a certain keenness. The holes in the plot can be overlooked.
Actually, it's a rather nifty B movie with a couple of endearing qualities and it's worth watching.
The writers did a good job of catching the tenuous quality of life on the run from the law. This isn't "They Live By Night" but it's in the same ballpark. Steve Cochran is an ex con and Ruth Roman becomes his moll. After an accidental but lethal shooting they leave New York and travel across the United States by stolen rides on boxcars and trucks, and by hitch hiking and walking. They come to earth in Salina, California at the start of the lettuce-picking season, and although the work is hard, they make a living and fall in love to the extent that they are married and Roman becomes pregnant. The experienced viewer of 1950s movies knows this mundane paradise can't last. The police finally catch up with them, but not to worry. It's not a tragedy.
The budget was from hunger. Yet the writers have managed to capture a lot of quotidian details. The couple first take flight to the house of Roman's brother in New Jersey. He's willing to put them up but his wife argues heatedly against it. Later, desperate for a ride, they climb aboard one of those trucks carrying half a dozen cars on its trailer, and a suspenseful scene follows in which they try to get the keys and open one of the cars where they can lie down and sleep. The lettuce scenes are out of "The Grapes of Wrath" but the pay is better.
It's not flawless. We first see Ruth Roman in a dime-a-dance place in New York, probably modeled on Roseland, where I once met a pretty girl ninety five years ago whose name I can still remember, Rose Brown. (Who could forget it?) Anyway, Roman is wearing a puffy platinum wig that's almost fluorescent. She speaks like a tart, or tries to. And she wheedles gifts and money out of poor Cochran, who doesn't know his way around because he's spent more than half his life in the Crowbar Hotel. She later reveals her brunettedness.
Well, I'll tell you. Ruth Roman is rather a dull actress, whatever the part, but least of all is she suited to the kind of role that might fit Marie Windsor or Gloria Graham. She's bourgeois. No getting around it. She was bourgeois in "Strangers on a Train" and she will always be bourgeois, except that here she sound like a bourgeois trying desperately to mimic a cheap whore.
And Steve Cochran -- a beacon for all of us who want to be Hollywood stars but lack talent. When he enters the frame, a gaping black hole appears and swallows up everything else.
But there is a good deal of tension throughout the movie, once you get used to Roman as a dance hall girl and Cochran as a morose ex murderer. Given the strictures of the plot, the dialog at times shows a certain keenness. The holes in the plot can be overlooked.