Four dramas -- two American, two British -- made across the span of five years. Three are worth your time. The fourth... well, only to appreciate how good the others are.
SO DARK THE NIGHT (1946): It took me a while to discover that plenty of fine noirish mysteries came out of Columbia Pictures' B-unit in the '40s, and So Dark the Night ranks with their best. Henri Cassin, a middle-aged French police detective, goes to a country inn for a well-deserved rest. While there, he meets and falls in love with Nanette Michaud, 20 years his junior. The night before their wedding, Nanette's ex, Leon, threatens to destroy their happiness; as he storms away, Nanette follows him. A week later, their bodies are found. Cassin determines they were strangled to death. Soon, threatening notes appear at the inn. When Nannette's mother is murdered in a similar fashion, Cassin finds himself at wit's end. Only when he returns to Paris and discusses the case with his superior does he figure out who the killer is -- and that Nannette's father Eugene is next on the hit parade.
For the first couple of reels, So Dark the Night feels like it was meant to be the first in a series of movies about Henri Cassin. The story itself isn't necessarily remarkable, and the same set seems to stand in for both the inn and a barn where a body is found. But director Joseph Lewis elevates the movie's look by a factor of 50, thanks to his unerring sense of where to place the camera and how to light the actors. (The climactic moment when Cassin sees the killer in a window is damn near brilliant.) Unlike many B-directors who simply made sure the camera was in focus and printed the first take, it's clear that Lewis cared about his job and was determined that the result wouldn't just be filler for the bottom half of a double bill. He's the kind of director who makes the kind of movie that the kind of fan like me delighted to share. (He would soon be responsible for the classic Gun Crazy.)
Presuming Lewis was responsible for casting So Dark the Night, he excelled there, too, filling it with mostly unfamiliar yet excellent character actors. Steven Geray makes Cassin more like a beloved, gentle older relative than a detective -- until the bodies start piling up, that is. Two characters are the obvious suspects, the first being the inn's maid who's in love with Cassin and jealous of his young finance. The second is the village hunchback (all European villages having one, if old movies are any indication) who happens to discover Leon's body. Pretty convenient! Or is it? Without giving anything away, So Dark the Night's final reel had me reeling with shock. A terrific movie deserving of a revival.
THE SHOP AT SLY CORNER (1947): Descius Heiss is a gentle antiques dealer, whose daughter Margaret is a classical violinist. He's also an escapee from Devil's Island and a fence for jewel thief Corder Morris. Heiss' loathsome employee Archie Fellowes uses this information for blackmail purposes. When Archie eventually decides he's going to marry Margaret, Heiss murders him, and gets Corder to help dump the body outside the city. A police investigation ensues, leading to a car chase which kills Corder. Without any definite proof for the cops to go on, Heiss feels pretty good -- until Maragret's upstanding boyfriend Robert learns what's up.
RADAR SECRET SERVICE (1950): The A-bomb provided Hollywood with a whole new kind of criminal: the atomic materials thief. FBI agents Bill Travis and Static (no last name) are on the trail of a gang headed by Michael (another no last-namer), who have stolen a cache of Uranium-238 (because Uranium-237 isn't good enough, I guess). The usual investigations, chases, fist fights, and double-crosses follow, along with a couple of floozies with upswept peroxide-blonde hair providing alleged sex appeal.
The story, which isn't much more complicated than that outline, takes second place to Radar Secret Service's vaguely science-fiction angle. In what would put New York's traffic cameras to shame, here the Feds have a communications tower/radar combo that can track any vehicle within a hundred miles or so from the office. Not only that, it relays live images to a desk-size monitor so that the license plate can be read. Then there's Travis and Static's souped-up police car, which, with the tracking device on its roof, resembles a proto-Google Earth car. Only they didn't realize the freaking thing is really easy to see in the rearview mirror of anyone they're tailing.
Thanks to a plethora of fedoras and thin moustaches, it takes a while to tell the Feds from the felons. Sad sack Tom Neal plays a bad guy for a change, which actually helps his performance; his stilted delivery is better suited to the wrong side of the law. Sid Melton is a gang member named Pillbox (he's a hypochondriac, in case you couldn't guess). There's no explanation as to why such a dodo is part of this crew other than providing comedy relief, which criminal gangs usually don't need. Ralph Byrd is Static, a comedown from his 1940s Dick Tracy movies. (He even makes a crack about Tracy, which isn't so much an in-joke as it is a bad one.) Keene Duncan, a future member of the Ed Wood movie ensemble, appears near the end, while Adele Jergens and Myrna Dell prove that dames can be criminals like their boyfriends. There's a heck of a lot of actors in Radar Secret Service's 57 minutes, all of whom do their best to take this nonsense seriously. Oh, and at no time are we told who the uranium thieves are selling the stuff to. I bet they're commies!
BONUS POINTS: The Feds' model-360 Hiller helicopter is way too cool-looking for a B-movie like this, and probably took up most of the budget.
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