Apart from being another entry in my planned month-long tribute to Vincent Price, this also served as a nod to the recently-departed Jane Russell (as should be the upcoming MACAO from the same year, to be included in my other ongoing retrospective dedicated to Josef von Sternberg). Anyway, this is a minor noir effort: indeed, it is one of the sunnier of its type, in that the narrative unfolds as much by day as it does during the night; besides, for all its intended gloom, there is a healthy vein of humor running through it! It is saved, however, by the RKO production values (the studio, above any other, gave the genre its quintessential look) and the star cast (which also includes Victor Mature, Hoagy Carmichael, Brad Dexter and Jay C. Flippen).
The plot involves Russell's return to the gambling capital of the world after she had spent the war years as a chanteuse there (at a club where Carmichael – who else? – is the typically laidback pianist/observer). In the meantime, she has married wealthy Price but does not know he is close to bankruptcy (before noticing a wire he received reporting the suicide of his Boston colleague)!; another old acquaintance is cop-on-the-beat Mature, bitter at her apparent desertion of him. Needless to say, Russell and Mature ultimately get to rekindle their affair, but the path runs far from smoothly: apart from their own mutual resentment, Price does not look favourably upon his wife's former conquests, while complicating things further is the expensive necklace Price uses as a guarantee in order to try his luck at one of the leading casinos (which is being closely watched by insurance investigator Dexter). Eventually, the new owner of Russell's old haunt is found murdered (after he had denied Price further credit) and the necklace stolen. Of course, Price becomes the key suspect – and Russell accuses Mature of having framed him so as to get back at her! However, it is obvious from the get-go that the real culprit is the wolfish Dexter, and the film climaxes decently with a desert helicopter chase and a shootout in an abandoned hangar. As for Price, he is ready to pay the price {sic} of his own criminal activity back home i.e. embezzlement.
The film is reasonably enjoyable, with most of the expected noir elements intact – including its fair share of hard-boiled dialogue, not to mention having Russell and Carmichael warble a number of songs – but the contrived scripting (by Earl Felton and Harry Essex, who ought to have known better!), cornball attempts at comedy (mainly having to do with Sheriff Flippen betting what Mature's next move will be with respect to both solving the case and sorting out his private life!) and an incongruous sentimental streak (clearly evoking CASABLANCA {1942} in the subplot involving a couple of underage elopers!) prevent the promising mixture from rising to greater heights.
The plot involves Russell's return to the gambling capital of the world after she had spent the war years as a chanteuse there (at a club where Carmichael – who else? – is the typically laidback pianist/observer). In the meantime, she has married wealthy Price but does not know he is close to bankruptcy (before noticing a wire he received reporting the suicide of his Boston colleague)!; another old acquaintance is cop-on-the-beat Mature, bitter at her apparent desertion of him. Needless to say, Russell and Mature ultimately get to rekindle their affair, but the path runs far from smoothly: apart from their own mutual resentment, Price does not look favourably upon his wife's former conquests, while complicating things further is the expensive necklace Price uses as a guarantee in order to try his luck at one of the leading casinos (which is being closely watched by insurance investigator Dexter). Eventually, the new owner of Russell's old haunt is found murdered (after he had denied Price further credit) and the necklace stolen. Of course, Price becomes the key suspect – and Russell accuses Mature of having framed him so as to get back at her! However, it is obvious from the get-go that the real culprit is the wolfish Dexter, and the film climaxes decently with a desert helicopter chase and a shootout in an abandoned hangar. As for Price, he is ready to pay the price {sic} of his own criminal activity back home i.e. embezzlement.
The film is reasonably enjoyable, with most of the expected noir elements intact – including its fair share of hard-boiled dialogue, not to mention having Russell and Carmichael warble a number of songs – but the contrived scripting (by Earl Felton and Harry Essex, who ought to have known better!), cornball attempts at comedy (mainly having to do with Sheriff Flippen betting what Mature's next move will be with respect to both solving the case and sorting out his private life!) and an incongruous sentimental streak (clearly evoking CASABLANCA {1942} in the subplot involving a couple of underage elopers!) prevent the promising mixture from rising to greater heights.