Thursday, October 29, 2020

SCARED TO DEATH

SCARED TO DEATH (1947). Director: Christy Cabanne.

"My dear Josef, if I allowed myself to be announced, I doubt I would be received anywhere."

Well, this movie has something in common with the later Sunset Boulevard, in that it's sort of narrated by a corpse, but that's as far as it goes. (The original idea for Sunset was for it to begin in the morgue, which this picture actually does.) As the pathologists prepare to perform an autopsy on a woman, we hear her voice, and flashbacks tell us how she wound up dead. Laura (Molly Lamont) lives in a strange household. She thinks her husband Ward (Roland Varno) and father-in-law Dr. Josef (George Zucco) are trying to kill her. Then we have Josef's cousin, Professor Leonide (Bela Lugosi), a once-famous magician, who arrives unexpectedly with a deaf mute dwarf, Indigo (Angelo Rossitto), and hates Josef. Rounding out the cast of characters are the maid Lilly Beth (Gladys Blake), a private dick Bill "Bull" Raymond (Nat Pendleton), a reporter Terry Lee (Douglas Fowley). and his date Joyce (Jane Cornell). And we mustn't forget the odd green face that periodically seems to be peeping through some curtains.

Scared to Death seems to have been conceived as a black comedy, but it isn't remotely funny but for one or two moments, and it hasn't got a single chill. The "Natural Color" it was filmed in doesn't help a bit. Even with all the odd characters and weird goings-on, the movie is slow and dull. But the most criminal thing about it is that it wastes the talents -- and the confrontation between -- those two fine actors George Zucco and Bela Lugosi, both of whom are much better than the picture deserves. Roland Varno also appeared in My Name is Julia Ross and The Return of the Vampire. Douglas Fowley was in Flaxy Martin and many, many other movies.

Verdict: Tough to take even for Lugosi fans. *1/2.

THE GHOUL (1933)

THE GHOUL (1933). Director: T. Hayes Hunter.

Poor Boris Karloff got stuck in another stinker with this very boring, alleged thriller/horror film. Karloff plays an egyptologist who vows to return from the grave to get back at his enemies, and keeps his promise. There's also two cousins -- one male, one female -- who are caught up in a family feud and get involved because Karloff was their uncle. This has an interesting supporting cast, including Ernest Thesiger from Bride of Frankenstein and Cedric Hardwicke. "No doubt you will succeed in making a painful interview intolerable," Hardwicke says to one character. But it's very disorienting to see the likes of Ralph Richardson in a Boris Karloff horror film. He plays a priest and is as excellent as ever. Karloff and the others are fine but wasted.

Verdict: Might help you go to sleep. *1/2.

EVIL DEAD 2

EVIL DEAD 2 (1987/AKA Evil Dead II: Dead by Dawn). Director: Sam Raimi. 

Not so much a sequel as a revisioning (and parody) of Raimi's cult hit, The Evil Dead. Ash (Bruce Campbell) is back in a cabin, has to murder his possessed girlfriend again, and then not only has to deal with demons trying to take him over but with the possessed bodies of the cabin's occupants and visitors, including Annie (Sarah Berry), the daughter of a scientist (whose dead, devious wife is rotting and plotting in the cellar). Even more of a comic book than the original, the burlesque, black comedy tone of the film probably made it more influential on the alleged "horror" films (actually gory comedies) that came later. There's a naked, headless corpse dancing ballet in the woods, an eyeball that shoots out of another suppurating corpse and into Annie's mouth, and it becomes very clear that this is nothing that anyone, even the filmmakers, could possibly take seriously. Sporadically amusing and entertaining, but basically too ultimately schlocky to care about. There are some decent stop-motion monster effects near the end. The climax has Ash sucked through a warp into another dimension, setting up another sequel. Bruce Campbell manages to preserve his dignity no matter what shit the script puts him through, acquiting himself nicely in a performance that has to balance [ersatz] horror with humor, and definitely displays star charisma. But while the "Evil Dead" movies may have put him on the map, in the long run they probably didn't do him all that much good. 

Verdict: Some inventive stuff but overall the same old grind. **.

THIRTEEN WOMEN

THIRTEEN WOMEN (1932). Director: George Archainbaud. 

The racist girls at a fancy finishing school, St. Alban's, weren't very nice to the Eurasian gal Ursula Georgi (Myrna Loy, pictured), so years later she's determined that every one of them who snubbed her will come to an exceedingly bad end. Using a fake swami (C. Henry Gordon) she sends letters of doom to her victims and then watches as her sinister predictions come true. Now she's after Laura Stanhope (Irene Dunne), planning to blow up Laura's adorable little boy, Bobby (Wally Albright) with a bomb in a ball. Ricardo Cortez is the police investigator on the case, and Edward Pawley is the chauffeur who's become Ursula's love slave. Peg Entwhistle, who threw herself off the Hollywood sign, is one of the young ladies. There's an interesting climax on a train, but this plot with its subway shoves and falls off of trains needs the Hitchcock finesse to do it justice. Archainbaud pretty much just covers the action although there are some exciting scenes. Loy, Dunne and Kay Johnson are the cast stand-outs. 

Verdict: Minor but reasonably absorbing. **1/2.

THE DEVIL-DOLL

THE DEVIL-DOLL (1936). Director: Tod Browning. 

Banker Paul Levond (Lionel Barrymore) and mad scientist Marcel (Henry B. Walthall) escape from prison and arrive at Marcel's home, where his wife Malita (Rafaela Ottiano) has continued his experiments. They hope to make everybody tiny so they'll need less to eat (it never occurs to them that tiny humans would be preyed upon by suddenly larger animals and insects). Levond was convicted of embezzlement and murder which was actually committed by three associates. Levond goes to Paris to get revenge on the trio, disguising himself as an old lady and using the shrunken animals and people created by Marcel and his wife. He also befriends his daughter Lorraine (Maureen O'Sullivan) who doesn't realize her father's innocence and despises him. This is a very bizarre movie with excellent special effects and good acting. Barrymore is terrific, and Ottiano makes a suitably weird partner-in-peril. This may have been inspired by certain scenes in Bride of Frankenstein made the year before and possibly influenced the later Dr. Cyclops (which had a very different storyline). The problem with the movie is that not enough is done with the basic premise, as if no one had a very clear idea in which direction the movie should proceed. Tod Browning also directed Dracula

 Verdict: Odd. Maybe too odd. **1/2.

Thursday, October 15, 2020

NIGHT SONG

Dana Andrews and Merle Oberon
NIGHT SONG (1947). Director: John Cronwell.  

Now here's a strange one. Wealthy Catherine (Merle Oberon of A Song to Remember) goes slumming in a nightclub one evening with friends, and is attracted to, and fascinated by, a talented composer, Dan (Dana Andrews), who is also sort of slumming as a piano player. Cathy is initiially distressed to realize that Dan is blind, but decides he needs a patron -- but how to get past his depression and indifference. She hits upon the incredibly tasteless idea of pretending to be blind herself, assuming a new identity and even renting a different apartment from her fancier digs. She is able to inspire Dan to finish his concerto, and in her true identity sponsors him in a competition. Now he has the money to get his eyes operated on, but will he forget all about the blind gal who helped him once he can see the world in all its glory -- including the real Catherine? She wants him to love her as the comparatively drab but steadfast and loving blind girl, not as the glamorous doyenne of the social register. 

James Bond? Hoagy Carmichael
Night Song was made during a period when hopelessly contrived movies came out one after another trading on the romantic and emotional element and the acting of its lead players. Sometimes they worked; sometimes they didn't. Night Song is about half and half. On the plus side are the actors, with Oberon proving once again that she was not just a beautiful face, handling all the cliches and absurdities with aplomb. The same is true of Dana Andrews, who keeps a straight face throughout. Then there's the marvelous Hoagy Carmichael as Dan's friend and clarinetist Chick, who goes along with the deception despite his misgivings (this is another credulity-stretching aspect to the story). Carmichael is charming and makes the most of his thankless role of the best friend. Incidentally, James Bond creator Ian Fleming always thought of 007 as resembling Carmichael, although he never went so far, to my knowledge, as to suggest him for the role. Carmichael gets to warble the snappy number "Who Killed 'Er?" 

A resplendent Merle Oberon
Ethel Barrymore is also excellent as Cathy's Aunt, Miss Willey, who lives with her and acts as her secretary-companion. She is given some of the tartest lines, and the screenplay has some interesting dialogue. Walter Reed [Emergency Hospital] and Donald Curtis [I Love Trouble] have a few moments as two of Cathy's friends and suitors, and Eugene Ormandy and Artur Rubinstein play themselves, with the former conducting Dan's completed concerto and Rubinstein playing the piano. Lucian Ballard's cinematography is first-rate and in some shots Oberon is strikingly gorgeous. The score is by Leith Stevens, who wrote the concerto that the two aforementioned classical musicians supposedly admire. It is perfectly pleasant movie music. This is another movie in which the hero essentially treats his love interest like crap.   

Verdict: You either go with the flow or think "you've got to be kidding me!" **1/2.        

CATTLE QUEEN OF MONTANA

Ronald Reagan and Barbara Stanwyck
CATTLE QUEEN OF MONTANA (1954). Director: Allan Dwan. 

Sierra Nevada Jones (Barbara Stanwyck), her father, "Pop" (Morris Ankrum), and their friend Nat (Chubby Johnson) are about to stake their claim to the land when a stampede sends all of their cattle running amok, killing the old man and nearly killing the others. A loathsome polecat named McCord (Gene Evans) is in cahoots with an Indian named Natchakoa (Anthony Caruso), who started the stampede. Natchakoa hopes to take control of a tribe of Blackfoot Indians away from his father Red Lance and hated brother, Colorados (Lance Fuller), who is too sympathetic to whites, including Sierra, whom he tries to help. Then there's the mysterious Farrell (Ronald Reagan), who works for McCord but seems to be looking out for Sierra. Rounding out the cast of characters is Starfire (Yvette Duquay), an Indian maiden who is jealous of Colorados' attentions to Sierra. Naturally nothing good can come of all this. 

Stanwyck, Lance Fuller, Chubby Johnson
Barbara Stanwyck was in the final stages of her career when she made this film, essentially a B western with a certified B movie cast, including Ronald Reagan as her sort-of leading man (although Lance Fuller gets more screen time). Stanwyck had done other westerns before and after this one -- and of course did several seasons of The Big Valley on TV -- but Cattle Queen is far below the level of, say, Anthony Mann's The Furies. The cliches don't matter so much because they're almost part of the genre, and Cattle Queen has a workable story, but the movie never really comes alive the way it ought to, and after awhile you just sit there and wait impatiently for it to finally be over. Stanwyck is fine, Reagan is Reagan, the others are all professional, including Myron Healey as an associate of McCord's who gets in a tussle with her, but this is just plain mediocre. It's very odd to see Stanwyck interacting with so many B movie stalwarts, including -- at this point -- Reagan, who would be hosting Death Valley Days in about a decade. Louis Forbes has contributed an arresting score and John Alton's technicolor cinematography is often striking. 

Verdict: Babs in the saddle -- sore. **1/4. 

ONE TOUCH OF VENUS (1955)

Russell Nype and Janet Blair
 ONE TOUCH OF VENUS (1955 telefilm). Director: George Schaefer. 

Museum owner Whitelaw Savory (George Gaynes) is anxiously waiting for a statue of Venus to arrive in his office when a substitute barber named Rodney Hatch (Russell Nype) places a ring on the statue's finger and she comes to life. Venus (Janet Blair) inexplicably falls in love with the nerdy Rodney, although he resists her charms because he's engaged to the rather witchy Gloria (Mildred Trares). Venus disposes of Gloria even as Whitelaw woos the goddess and still tries to find out where the statue is. Eventually Rodney is accused of Gloria's murder, but fortunately the gal isn't gone forever. Rodney and Venus happily plan for a rather earthbound future on Staten Island. But will these two opposites continue to attract? 

George Gaynes and Janet Blair
One Touch of Venus
 is a TV version of the 1943 Broadway musical, which was turned into a theatrical film in 1948 with Ava Gardner playing Venus. This telefilm is taken from a production of the show done for the Dallas State Fair. This is presumably more faithful to the original stage version as the movie made a great many changes to the plot and dropped most of the score by Kurt Weill and Odgen Nash. Whatever its flaws, this telefilm retains virtually all of the songs, and they are all memorable: "A Stranger Here Myself" sung by Venus; Rodney's "That's How Much I Love You'" and "Wooden Wedding;" Savory's song to his lost love, "West Wind;" Venus' "My Foolish Heart" and "That's Him;" the amusing chorus "The Trouble with Women;" and the love duet "Speak Low When You Speak Love." Savory's secretary, Molly (Laurel Shelby), sings the title tune. Although Janet Blair is the only one of the principal performers who dances, the telecast does include dance numbers and ballets. 

As for the performers, no one really has the light touch that this type of whimsical material requires, making the story pretty silly, but it's saved by the songs. And the singing of the principals really makes this work. I always knew Janet Blair as a competent light dramatic and comedic actress but never knew how really talented she was, as she sings her numbers for all that they're worth. Russell Nype also has a good voice and delivers on his numbers. George Gaynes was a busy Broadway performer and while some may find his voice old-fashioned, I have to say I love his singing style. Nype also did a lot of stage work. Weill's music is lilting; Nash's lyrics clever and funny.

Verdict: This may seem crude compared to the film version, but this has all the songs and they sing! ***. 

NO SAD SONGS FOR ME

Margaret Sullavan
NO SAD SONGS FOR ME (1950). Director: Rudolph Mate.

A young wife and mother (Margaret Sullavan) discovers she has inoperable cancer and tries to arrange for another woman -- a co-worker of her husband's -- to take over when she's gone. This sounds like very depressing subject matter, but while the movie is very moving, it's also uplifting due to the artistry of Sullavan, whose performance is compelling, affecting and restrained yet believable. Although you of course know the outcome from the first, the story is still unpredictable. Howard Koch's fine screenplay transcends soap opera, and the supporting performers (Wendell Corey as the husband, Viveca Lindfors as the co-worker who falls in love with him) are also excellent. The raw graphic treatment that you would see in a film of this subject today is avoided, but at the same time, Sullavan does not get more glamorous as her health worsens. Some might find the final scene a bit pat, but it works for this movie, and avoids a morbid air. Very worthwhile. This is "adult" material in the best sense of the word.

Verdict: Great. ***1/2.

GOOD NEW MOVIE: JUDY

Finn Wittrock wtih Zellweger
JUDY (2019). Director: Rupert Goold. 

With her finances in a shambles and her addictions getting the better of her, Judy Garland (Renee Zellweger of Down with Love) is importuned to give a series of concerts in London. As a girl Garland was given pills by the studio to keep her weight down, among other reasons, and she's come to rely on them to get her through the day and night. She wants custody of her smaller children, Lorna and Joey, but ex-husband Sid Luft (Rufus Sewell of Hercules) thinks they would be much better off with him. Her new husband, Mickey Deans (Finn Wittrock) tries to get her a deal that might make her financially secure, but will her bad reputation put paid to that as well?

Loosely based on the stage play End of the Rainbow, this new movie is much more sympathetic than the play, which presented a burlesque of Garland's later years. It doesn't whitewash her, but it does make an attempt to understand her better. This is certainly helped by Zellweger's Oscar-winning performance, as she clearly studied Garland and the lessons paid off. The biggest problem with the film is that Zellweger does her own singing. She has a voice, but she is no Garland, although she mimics Garland's style and approach to a song very capably. The other performances, including those named as well as Jessie Buckley as her handler, Rosalind; Darci Shaw as young Judy; and others, are all quite good. Of course the movie has to include an adoring gay couple as well as other scenes that rely on dramatic license. The ending is contrived but moving. 

Judy got some serious hate from viewers. Most of this hate came from obsessive Judy-fans who will not be satisfied with anyone other than the real Garland, but for that you have to rely on her old movies and recordings. If you are interested in seeing and hearing the real Garland I would recommend the CD Judy at Carnegie Hall and the film A Child is Waiting

Verdict: No masterpiece by any means but an entertaining look at a great entertainer with an outstanding lead performance. ***.

Thursday, October 1, 2020

HOTEL

Catherine Spaak and Rod Taylor
HOTEL (1967). Director: Richard Quine. Based on the novel by Arthur Hailey.

The beautiful and stately St. Gregory's hotel in New Orleans is in danger of shutting its doors forever. The owner, Warren Trent (Melvyn Douglas), is fielding two offers, the most aggressive of which comes from Curtis O'Keefe (Kevin McCarthy) who isn't above playing a few dirty tricks, such as using his girlfriend, Jeanne (Catherine Spaak), to get information from the hotel manager, Peter McDermott (Rod Taylor of The Liquidator). While this is going on there is a thief (Karl Malden) loose in the hotel, and a Count (Michael Rennie) and Countess (Merle Oberon) are being blackmailed by the house dick (Richard Conte) because they ran over a child in their expensive car. 

Kevin McCarthy and Taylor
Hotel is basically sixties schlock, devoid of deep characterization or any meaning whatsoever. At one point, when a dignified black couple is turned away at the desk of the St. Gregory according to the hotel's long-standing racist policy and their unproven fear that it will cost them clientele, it looks as if there might be something of substance to say. But everyone seems much more upset at what bad publicity will do to their coffers than their unfair and dated policy toward "Negroes." It's a case of "this is bad for the hotel" as opposed to "this is just plain bad." Peter may not be a racist but his employer definitely is.

Michael Rennie and Merle Oberon
In spite of all this, the film is smooth and mildly entertaining, with good performances. Taylor is commanding and pleasant, McCarthy and Douglas are solid pros, and Rennie and Oberon, especially the latter, nearly walk off with the movie. We never learn anything about the boy who was killed, nor do either of these privileged people ever express the slightest feeling about the child's death! Although we're supposed to believe that McDermott is a great manager, he doesn't shut down an elevator that is acting funny (resulting in the liveliest scene in the movie and undoubtedly a major lawsuit for the hotel) and seems to spend more of his time imbibing cocktails in the bar than anything else. Spaak and Malden both appeared in Cat O' Nine Tails.

Verdict: Watch Grand Hotel instead. **1/2.                                                                                                 

SCARLET STREET

Edward G. Robinson
SCARLET STREET (1945). Director: Fritz Lang. 

Christopher Cross (Edward G. Robinson of Barbary Coast) is a cashier for a large company, as well as a part-time painter, and is married to a harridan, Adele (Rosalind Ivan), who is still obsessed with her late husband. One evening he intercedes when he sees a young woman, Kitty (Joan Bennett of The Man Who Reclaimed His Head), being slapped around by a guy and she befriends him. He doesn't realize that the abusive fellow, Johnny (Dan Duryea), is Kitty's boyfriend, and he importunes her to take advantage of the situation when they both wrongly surmise that Cross is rich. Before long Cross is stealing from his company, and things get worse after that ...

Dan Duryea and Joan Bennett
If you haven't seen this film noir masterpiece I won't spoil it by saying anything more about the plot, other than to say that Scarlet Street is thoroughly unpredictable, full of surprising and completely unexpected and highly ironic developments. The acting is first-rate, with both Robinson and Bennett outstanding in their roles, and there is excellent support from Duryea, Ivan, and Margaret Lindsay [Emergency Hospital] as Kitty's initial roommate, Millie. The roles of Cross' friends and co-workers are also filled with fine character actors, and the film is well photographed by Milton R. Krasner. Hans J. Salter also contributed an interesting score. Then there's the great screenplay by Dudley Nichols, based on a French mystery novel.  For my money this is far superior to the earlier Lang-Bennett-Robinson-Duryea collaboration The Woman in the Window.Jean Renoir also filmed this story as La chienne. An added side note: Some paintings that figure in the story line and which are seen as great art by some of the characters are the very definition of kitsch!

Verdict: Absorbing and well-made, beautifully-acted melodrama. ***1/2. 

PRODUCER'S SHOWCASE: BLOOMER GIRL

Barbara Cook
BLOOMER GIRL (Producer's Showcase/1956). Directed by Alex Segal. Presented Live

Bloomer Girl was a successful (if now essentially forgotten) Broadway musical that was adapted for television in an abbreviated version for the program Producer's Showcase. Celeste Holm, who had starred on Broadway, was replaced by Barbara Cook, a wise choice. The musical takes place just before the Civil War, and Evalina (Cook) is the only unmarried daughter of hoop (for skirts) manufacturer Horatio Applegate (Paul Ford). Her Aunt Dolly (Carmen Mathews) not only runs the newspaper but is an early feminist. Along comes Southern gentleman Jefferson Calhoun (Keith Andes), who is going to work for Horatio and begins courting an initially unimpressed Evalina. Unfortunately, Calhoun also brings along a slave, Pompey (Roy Spearman), who is hoping to stay North as a free man, something Evalina wants but which his owner may object to.  

Roy Spearman
Bloomer Girl
 dealt with women's rights and black rights in the 1950's, and frankly it's amazing that a live production was shown on television during the same period. Of course Pompey is a polite, somewhat subservient black character, yet he's also given the stirring song "The Eagle and Me," which is all about wanting and needing freedom. The performances in this TV version are all excellent, with Cook as delightful and in as good a voice as ever. Keith Andes adeptly plays the leading man, his charm working to overcome Calhoun's less likable traits, although he eventually triumphs over them. Carmen Mathews and Ford are typically on-target, and Spearman not only has a wonderful voice but imbues the role with a certain dignity.  

In this shortened version of the Broadway show, several of the lesser numbers have been cut. However, there's some gold in what remains: "When the Boys Come Home;" "Evalina;" "Sundays in Cicero Falls;" and the romantic duet "Right as the Rain" -- along with "The Eagle and Me" -- are the most memorable tunes. The lilting music is by Harold Arlen and the lyrics by E. Y. Harburg. Bloomer Girl isn't necessarily one of the all-time great musicals, but it is a worthwhile and interesting show which in some aspects was ahead of its time. 

Verdict: Tuneful, well-done, and sometimes moving. ***. 

THE FORTUNE COOKIE


THE FORTUNE COOKIE (1966). Produced and directed by Billy Wilder.   

When cameraman Harry Hinkle (Jack Lemmon) is knocked over by Cleveland Braves player Boom Boom Jackson (Ron Rich) during a football game, his brother-in-law, Whiplash Willie (Walter Matthau), importunes him to pretend his injuries are far worse than they really are for a huge cash payout. At first Harry is appalled by the very suggestion, but when Willie intimates that Harry's ex-wife, Sandy (Judi West), may come back to him out of sympathy, he agrees. Meanwhile a very guilty Boom Boom, who practically becomes Harry's servant, finds his own life spiraling out of control. Yet Harry's essential humanity may put paid to Willie's audacious and avaricious plan.

The Fortune Cookie is an excellent comedy-drama which begins as an amusing dark farce and midway turns a bit more serious. The performances are superb, with Matthau master of all he surveys, Lemmon on target throughout, Ron Rich sympathetic and appealing, and Judi West, introduced in this picture, scoring as Harry's ex, a singer who dreams of a shot at the big time in New York's Persian Room. Cliff Osmond also makes an impression as private eye, Purkey, although Lurene Tuttle overdoes it a bit as Harry's hysterical mother. There are other good character actors in the cast such as Les Tremayne. Although highly exaggerated, the characters come off more or less as real people, although many of the situations are not realistic and are not meant to be. I won't give anything away, but the ending strikes a blow for Civil Rights in a way that is unusual for a sixties movie (although one might wonder how anyone could be certain of Harry's reaction). Handsome and talented, this was the first big role for Rich, but he had only a few credits after this. Similarly, Judi West, who actually had a couple of TV credits before this film, had only a few subsequent credits as well. Joseph LaShelle's cinematography is first-rate.

Verdict: Imperfect at times, but a very entertaining black comedy with outstanding performances. ***1/2.                                                             

THE ELEVENTH COMMANDMENT

Theodore von Eltz and Alan Hale
THE ELEVENTH COMMANDMENT (1933). Directed by George Melford. 

John Ross (William V. Mong) has been the lawyer to a wealthy woman for many years. When this woman dies, Ross is set to inherit most of the money, but his young associate, Wayne Winters (Theodore von Eltz), wants in on the action. To stymie Ross' plans he digs up two supposed heirs to the estate from an early marriage -- embezzler Charlie Moore (Arthur Hoyt) and dead-common Tessie  (Marie Prevost) who has pretensions of class -- and then there's also Max Stager (Alan Hale) who claims he is the father of the dead woman's daughter. Ross has two daughters: Corinne (Marian Marsh of Svengali), who is in love with Wayne, and Nina (Gloria Shea) who is engaged to Jerry Trent (Lyman Williams of Damaged Lives).  One of them is actually adopted and is Stager's daughter. It's anyone's idea who, if anyone, will wind up with the money if assorted secrets get out. 

Marie Prevost with von Eltz
Based on a stage play, Eleventh Commandment -- "thou shalt not get caught" -- sets up an interesting situation with a few intriguing characters, but it has far too many of them to make this anything but confusing and ultimately unsatisfying. It does present two of the most unethical and unlikable lawyers in the history of the movies. The performances are quite good, however, with von Eltz being pleasantly oily and Alan Hale doing his best with an under-written part. Ethel Wales is effective as the embezzler's wife. Handsome and adept, Theodore von Eltz' career ran from the silent period all the way to 1957. 

Verdict: Passable melodrama but nothing more. **.