The Dark Corner

The private investigator Bradford Galt (Mark Stevens) has just moved from San Francisco, where he was framed by his former partner Anthony Jardine (Kurt Kreuger) and unfairly spent two years in jail, to a well located office of his own in New York, where he works with his efficient, witty and very beautiful secretary Kathleen (Lucille Ball). When he invites Kathleen to date and have dinner with him, they see a man wearing a white suit (William Bendix) in their tail. Brad holds the man that tells that he is also a private investigator called Fred Foss and hired by Jardine to follow him. When a car almost hit Brad on the street, he visits and argues with Jardine, who is also a seducer of married women, and they fight. Later, when Jardine is murdered in his apartment, Brad realizes that he was framed. His only lead is the man of white suit, and with the support of Kathleen, they try to find the unknown man to discover who is behind the murder of Jardine.

In the atmosphere of New York in the 40's, "The Dark Corner" has a perfect direction, with the development of the characters in a great screenplay with some magnificent lines (I love Brad telling Cathcart's assistant that he would take the Donatello and asking her to wrap it up.) and a wonderful cinematography. The use of shadows is impressive, highlighting the faces and spaces, like for example when Hardy Cathcart sees his young wife kissing Jardine in the safe. Mark Stevens and Lucille Ball show a perfect chemistry and the villains are very realist in this unknown but first-rate film-noir. My vote is eight.

Title (Brazil): "Envolto Nas Sombras" ("Enveloped in the Shadows")

Mark Stevens a couple years earlier had played a sweet-voiced singer (small role in "Rhapsody in Blue," 1943-45). So when Fox Studio in '46 cast Stevens (4th in name order) as the hard-boiled private detective, they probably hoped Dame Fortune would smile on Stevens the way she did on Dick Powell (former sweet-voiced singer) when he was cast against type as the hard-boiled private detective in "Murder My Sweet" (RKO '44). Not to speak of minor actor Alan Ladd, who had been cast (only 4th in order) as the hard-boiled anti-hero in "This Gun for Hire" (Para. '42) -- and became a super-star overnight. Evidently the 3d time was not the charm, and Mark Stevens didn't strike it rich, the way Dick Powell and Alan Ladd had done... Speaking more positively, I would like to credit what to me is one of the best scenes in the film, combining high drama with plausible psychology. Detective Stevens, totally desperate to find the true culprit before the police catch him, tries a shot in the dark. He visits the "Cascara Gallery," with which he's totally unfamiliar (he's never been there). Awaiting gallery owner Clifton Webb in the latter's office, Stevens encounters a young woman (Cathy Downs), unknown to him, who turns out to be Webb's wife. From this point on, the desperate Stevens must improvise (think on his feet), trying to get the truth out of Downs. With believable uncertainty and hesitation (plus audience suspense), he does improvise, in a way that is dramatically quite satisfying. It's as if director Hathaway went back to the film pioneer D. W. Griffith (celebrated for "photographing thought"), and did the same thing in this one brief scene. Watch this part of "Dark Corner" and judge for yourself. -- Steven P Hill, Cinema Studies, University of Illinois.

The Dark Corner of the title refers to the fact that our hero/protagonist Mark Stevens has himself in a situation where he's being manipulated and he can't see who's doing the manipulating.

To begin with Stevens has a grudge against former partner Kurt Krueger who when they were private eyes together, Krueger was doing a little blackmail on the side that innocent dupe Stevens took a fall for.

But elegant art gallery owner Clifton Webb has a much bigger grudge against Krueger. You remember Webb in his role of Waldo Lydecker in Laura and how obsessed he was with her. In The Dark Corner, he's married his obsession in the person of Cathy Downs. Krueger has been up to his old tricks romancing Downs on the side and Webb, learning of Krueger's previous troubles with Stevens has constructed an elaborate scheme to have Stevens blamed for Krueger's murder.

Webb for all his elegance and brittle sophistication proves to be a cunning foe. Stevens gives a good portrayal of a man trying desperately to find out who's pulling the puppet strings. He's aided and abetted by girl Friday Lucille Ball in a nice dramatic performance, unlike what we've come to expect from here. She proves to be of immense assistance to Stevens and it's her as well as some unforeseen breaks that enable him to figure out what's going on.

Of course the ever dependable William Bendix was borrowed from Paramount and radio's Life of Riley to serve as Webb's trigger man and muscle. Bill Bendix was never bad in anything he did and this is no exception.

The Dark Corner is a fine noir film, a great change of pace for Lucille Ball and a great followup second film for Clifton Webb to succeed Laura.

Mark Stevens plays Bradford Galt, a depressed, New York City private investigator who is trying to forget his troubled past. But someone is tailing Galt for reasons unknown. Lucille Ball adds charm and flair to the story as Galt's faithful, resourceful secretary who invites herself into the detective's dilemma, which eventually leads to a wealthy art collector named Cathcart, played by the suave, and always engaging, Clifton Webb. It's a sordid tale of deceit and murder, expressed visually in typical 1940's film-noir style.

Galt's surroundings are drab and dreary, in marked contrast to the lush, opulent environment of Cathcart and his elitist friends. Director Henry Hathaway leaves no doubt as to where his sympathies lie. It's the late 1940s, and the proletariat class, represented by Galt, is honest and hard working, and up against society's corrupt rich.

In contrast to other film detectives of that era, like Philip Marlowe and Sam Spade, Galt is somewhat plaintive and vulnerable, but these traits make him more sympathetic, even though he can deliver a mean punch when called for.

The film's high-contrast B&W cinematography is striking. It emphasizes harsh lighting, deep shadows, and two-dimensional silhouettes. This visual style, together with occasional sounds of jazz, conveys a dissonance we would expect in a post-WWII environment of the urban underworld. When combined with a story of one man up against sinister forces, these cinematic elements, taken as a whole, communicate a philosophy of existentialism.

For viewers who like heavy-duty 1940's noir films with interesting characters, good acting, and striking cinematography, "The Dark Corner" is one of the better choices.

It's a loss to the noir cycle that Lucille Ball never got to exercise her widely underestimated acting (as opposed to comedic) skills as a femme fatale; she might have gained entry to the Bad Girls' Club. She did, however, lend her welcome presence to three film noir: Two Smart People, Lured, and, the first and best of them, The Dark Corner.

She plays the new, spunky receptionist to private eye Mark Stevens (and gets top billing; logically the star, Stevens comes only fourth in the titles). Once framed into a manslaughter charge in San Francisco, Stevens has come east to start over with a clean slate. But he's being measured for an even bigger frame. White-suited William Bendix is the cat's-paw in a plot to goad Stevens into murdering the old partner who set him up (Kurt Kreuger).

Kreuger, however, isn't even aware that Stevens is out of prison and in New York; he's too busy romancing the young wife (Cathy Downs) of rich art-gallery owner Clifton Webb (she sits around bored, listening to `his paintings crack with age'). Webb is the puppet-master behind the elaborate scheme to eliminate his younger, more virile rival. When Stevens comes to on the floor of his apartment with a poker in his hand and Kreuger bludgeoned to death next to him, he, with Ball's help, must race against his inevitable arrest to find the real killer.

The story flits between two Manhattans: The shabby cityscape of penny arcades under the El and flats that open up onto fire escapes, populated by Stevens, Ball and Bendix, and the haut monde of ritzy galleries and high-ceilinged, richly upholstered apartments inhabited by Clift, Downs and Kreuger. Spanning the gap is the unholy alliance between the coarse Bendix and the p***-elegant Webb, reprising his Bitter Old Queen number from Laura and The Razor's Edge (though again, as in Laura, we're asked to swallow his obsession with a beautiful...woman half his age).

While maintaining a deft balance, the plot weighs in as quite a brutal one (Webb's quick dispatch of Bendix proves quite startling). Despite this role and The Street With No Name, Stevens never quite became the noir icon - like Ladd or Bogart or Mitchum (or even like Powell or Ford or Ryan) he seemed destined for, but he's persuasive enough as a man strained to the limit by forces he can't fathom.

Henry Hathaway directed, but the black magic comes courtesy of cinematographer Joe MacDonald. He ably lighted a number of estimable noirs (Street With No Name, Call Northside 777, Pickup on South Street), but here his work surpasses itself. When Ball and Stevens embrace, he turns a two-shot into a four-shot by placing them in front of a fireplace mirror; we see her face in the foreground, his in reflection. In plot, writing and direction, The Dark Corner falls just short of the finest entries in the cycle. But in its strikingly composed photography, finely filigreed with shadow, it could be shown at a gala opening in Webb's high-priced gallery.