The Blue Dahlia

It's a shame this one isn't available on DVD.


May 9, 1946
THE SCREEN IN REVIEW; 'Blue Dahlia,' of Paramount, With Alan Ladd and
Veronica Lake in the Leading Roles, Proves an Exciting Picture 'The
DarkCorner,' in WhichMark Stevens, Lucille Ball Appear, Seen at
Roxy--'Little Giant' in Debut of Loew's Criterion
By BOSLEY CROWTHER
Published: May 9, 1946
To the present expanding cycle of hard-boiled and cynical films, Paramount
has contributed a honey of a rough-'em-up romance which goes by the name of
"The Blue Dahlia" and which came to the Paramount yesterday. And in this
floral fracas it has starred its leading tough guy, Alan Ladd, and its
equally dangerous and dynamic lady V-bomb, Veronica Lake. What with that
combination in this Raymond Chandler tale, it won't be simply blasting that
you will hear in Times Square for weeks to come.
For bones are being crushed with cold abandon, teeth are being callously
kicked in and shocks are being blandly detonated at close and regular
intervals on the Paramount screen. Also an air of deepening mystery
overhangs this tempestuous tale which shall render it none the less
intriguing to those lovers of the brutal and bizarre.
In the manner of previous Ladd pictures, the rough stuff begins at the
start, when our hero returns from the Pacific and finds his wife something
less than true. A clip on the jaw for her boy-friend and a passing twist
upon her shapely arms are sufficient to register the displeasure of the
husband before he walks out. But the facts of his presence and anger make
him the suspected one when, a few hours later, the gay wife is found in her
bungalow—slain!
And so it is that the hero is launched on a catch-as-catch-can chase, trying
to spot the killer before he himself is caught. Enroute, he falls in with a
lady of considerable nerve (Miss Lake, of course) who insists upon rendering
assistance which she is peculiarly qualified to give. He also has the
rooting interest of a couple of ex-Navy pals who do very little to aid him
but inject grimly comical twists. Thus confused, the perilous rat-race runs
in and out of gaudy Hollywood dives, fáncy hotels and police chambers until
the inevitable rat is caught.
Mr. Ladd, through it all, is his usual (as they say) imperturbable self,
displaying a frigid economy in his movement of lips and limbs—except, of
course, in those moments when it is essential that he protect himself. Then
he goes into action like a hawser that has suddenly snapped. One adversary
is nothing. Two thugs make a fair and equal match. The low art of
knuckle-duster fighting is elaborately displayed in this film.
As for Miss Lake, her contribution is essentially that of playing slightly
starved for a good man's honest affection, to which she manifests an
eagerness to respond. And it is indeed remarkable how obvious she makes this
look without doing very much. Howard da Silva is considerably more dramatic
as a high-powered night club proprietor, and William Bendix looks and acts
brutely eccentric as Mr. Ladd's slug-nutty pal. Doris Dowling as the
faithless wife, Tom Powers as a nerveless detective chief and Will Wright as
a crooked gumshoe worker give able performances.
George Marshall has tautly directed from Mr. Chandler's crafty script. The
tact of all this may be severely questioned, but it does make a brisk,
exciting show.
When a talented director and a resourceful company of players meet up with a
solid story, say one such as "The Dark Corner," then movie-going becomes a
particular pleasure. The new melodrama which Twentieth Century-Fox presented
yesterday at the Roxy is a tough-fibered, exciting entertainment revolving
around a private detective who is marked as the fall guy in a cleverly
contrived murder plot. Mark Stevens, a comparative newcomer looking and
acting very much like Fox's Dana Andrews, is convincingly hard-boiled as the
baffled gumshoe, Bradford Galt, who knows he is being framed into a murder
rap but has no knowledge of who is pulling the strings or why. His one clew
blows up when he is chloroformed by a strong arm "tail" and wakes up beside
the battered body of a former partner who once had him railroaded to prison
for manslaughter.
The trio of authors credited with "The Dark Corner" have not dealt all their
cards above board. Their trump is a trick doublecross, but they have worked
in that surprise with cunning and logic, so that the scattered story
elements all fall together like so many pieces in a well-ordered jigsaw
puzzle. The action, and there is plenty of it, is violent and explosive,
starting with a going-over Galt gives a mysterious toughie who has been
shadowing him. This character is identifield only as White Suit, obviously
because he affects such a suit and he is played with rugged naturalness by
William Bendix.
In fact, Director Henry Hathaway has drawn superior performances from most
of the cast. Lucille Ball has one of her happier roles as an acid-tongued
secretary who shares the private eye's troubles, and Clifton Webb has
another chance as an art gallery proprietor to indulge his talent for
acerbic characters. But if Mr. Webb doesn't change his style soon, his
admirers are likely to grow impatient. A strikingly good-looking girl named
Cathy Downs is introduced as a sort of second "Laura" in Mr. Webb's
cinematic marital affairs, but she is badly in need of dramatic training.
Mr. Hathaway has made such skillful use of the process screen in simulating
a New York background that it looks as though the action was photographed in
such locales as Third Avenue, Fifty-second Street and Broadway. And he
happily eschewed murky photography for mood effect, using instead a muted
and highly evocative musical score. His fine craftsmanship is very evident
throughout "The Dark Corner," and it is regrettable that he had to mar the
atmospheric realism by resorting to scene-faking in a few sequences. But
this is a minor shortcoming in an otherwise sizzling piece of melodrama.
Mark Stevens, who got his first good break in "From This Day Forward,"
proves in "The Dark Corner" that he has a rare combination of talent and
personality which, if properly developed, will place him in the forefront of
leading men in short order.

THE BLUE DAHLIA, an original screen play by Raymond Chandler; directed by
George Marshall; produced by John Houseman for Paramount Pictures. At the
Paramount.
Johnny Morrison . . . . . Alan Ladd
Joyce Harwood . . . . . Veronica Lake
Buzz Wanchek . . . . . William Bendix
Eddie Harwood . . . . . Howard da Silva
Helen Morrison . . . . . Doris Dowling
Captain Hendirckson . . . . . Tom Powers
George Copeland . . . . . Hugh Beaumont
Corelli . . . . . Howard Freeman
Leo . . . . . Don Costello
Dad Newell . . . . . Will Wright
The Man . . . . . Frank Faylen
Heath . . . . . Walter Sande
Mari Cathcart . . . . . Cathy Downs
Frank Reeves . . . . . Reed Hadley
Mrs. Kingsley . . . . . Constance Collier
Lucy Wilding . . . . . Molly Lamont
Mr. Bryson . . . . . Forbes Murray
Mrs. Bryson . . . . . Regina Wallace
Fred Foss . . . . . Charles Wagenheim
Milkman . . . . . Matt McHugh