The Crime Doctor's Diary

One thing that makes this final entry in the Crime Doctor series better than average, aside from the interesting collection of players, is the writing, a mixture of 1940s crime dramas with a few throwbacks to 1930s comedies.

On one hand we have a spattering of old-timey cops-and-robbers lingo, with terms like "moll," "dip," "binnie", "pigeon," and "prowl car". Plus, there's the gratuitous use of firepower to pursue an obviously unarmed suspect which wouldn't be tolerated in today's televised police procedure.

On the other hand there are several laugh-out-loud zingers and one-liners that are clever in context but would make no sense if repeated here.

With a less convoluted plot than previous entries in the series, there is still a sufficient number of suspects to keep one guessing as to the perpetrator; but this tale depends less on our good doctor's crime-solving abilities than on a device introduced midway through the action at which one's immediate reaction is "evidence".

A good whodunit should have a bit of originality in the plot, and the solution should not be too easy to guess. And it shouldn't be too long. Under those criteria, this last episode in the "Crime Doctor" series holds up very well.

The plot is about a convicted arsonist who gets an early release from prison. The agent of his good fortune is the Crime Doctor himself, who believes the man is guilty but considers him redeemable. Ignoring the advice of the doctor and others, the man rashly sets out to prove his innocence. Soon he's in bigger trouble than ever, and it all looks just a bit too convenient.

Warner Baxter, whose career was drawing toward an end, is considerably grayer than in his previous "Crime Doctor" films, and he doesn't get involved in much action. But he doesn't seem frail. He has a stylish presence that compensates for the movie's fairly spartan production values.

The two women in the ex-con's life, who turn out to be important to the mystery, are played by Lois Maxwell and Adele Jergens. Maxwell is better remembered today, because of her later role as "Moneypenny" in the James Bond films. But in 1949, Jergens, a former burlesque queen, was a much bigger name in movies. She certainly gets the more glamorous treatment here.

Warner Baxter, (Dr. Robert Ordway) gave his final appearance in this role and I found this film had improved over all the other Crime Doctor Series. In this film, Dr. Ordway is called by the warden of a prison to visit him as he was going to parole a man called Steve Carter,(Stephen Dunne) who was a former patient of Dr. Ordway's. Steve Carter was sentenced to prison as an arsonist who burned a music recording studio. Dr. Ordway tells the Warden he really does not believe that Steve Carter committed this crime and is going to help him prove his innocence. Jane Darrin,(Lois Maxwell) meets Steve Carter as he gets out of prison and drives him home and talks about him going back to work with the music recording company. It is not very long before a murder is committed and Steve has become a likely suspect for another crime. Jane Darrin and Doctor Ordway come to Steve's assistance and a very strange recording is discovered that solves the crime. Lois Maxwell who played Jane Darrin was also "Miss Moneypenny" in most of the older James Bond Films. Great film Enjoy

Last of ten in the series with Warner Baxter playing the part of Dr. Robert Ordway, former criminal turned psychiatrist. The series ran from 1943-1949 and always involved the outsider specialist trusting and then helping hapless victims of the criminal justice system.

This entry opens with Dr. Ordway talking about the impending parole of inmate 9815, Stephen Carter (Stephen Dunne), after serving three years for a crime of arson that he did not commit. The plot thickens when the accused is implicated in the murder of the man who took his job when in prison. The solution should not be a surprise.

Lois Maxwell is not nearly as good looking or glib as she will become years later as Miss Moneypenny in seventeen James Bond movies. She plays the same role as a gate keeper for the head of the firm.

Prolific character actor Whit Bissell plays Pete Bellem who records and keeps playing a song that seems to be central to the strange comings and goings on at the Bellem Music Company…"In the house where I was born" …"When I was just a boy. A recording of Pete's song becomes a critical part of the plot.

Robert Armstrong looks a bit tired as gangster George 'Goldie' Harrigan. His new girlfriend Inez Gray, played by Adele Jergens, is best featured in a revealing negligee.

Interesting introduction to the new technology of piping recorded music over phone lines to paying customers rather than having them order selected records at a juke box.

The police are incredibly poor shots until the end. The writing is above average in this entry with such lines as, following an incomplete response to the police asking an alternate way out of an apartment building, "Did they ask if it was open?" Recommended.

As has earlier been commented, Whit Bissell's performance here as an aspiring and mentally challenged composer is a scene-stealer. He intuitively takes the film to another plane with a blissful unawareness that is inadvertent and yet elevating. Along with the tragic end of his character Tom Lister in "Brute Force" this is one of his most affecting performances of the forties. Probably the second most affecting. He seems to inhabit this role as opposed to the other actors in the film who seem to just be going through their paces robotically and quite superficially with little or no special touch of humanity other than to move the story along so they can pick up their check. The film stops when he comes on the screen and you do a double take because you sense this performance is a silk purse in a sow's ear of a film. His character Pete Bellem, touching, halting and muddling along, stays with you when everyone else in the film just fades away into cardboard kitsch heaven. And that song of his so conscientiously crumbles upon itself that it takes on a profound, sad and yet sweet resonance which belies its silliness. Whit was a talented pianist, by the way. He puts that to use here (and in some other roles through the years). He was also a fencing enthusiast in real life. His character Pete Bellem, harmless and hampered and even harassed here by those who have no time of day for him and, in their self-anointed intellectual superiority, belittle what they feel are his mental limits, may be in a world of his own but in this world of charlatans and floozies and hucksters, his seems a better, kinder world. His fingers are his intellect. He loves his ditty no end and to the exclusion of all critique. He is a man-child in this not so promised land and (toot-toot) one you root for. He is the heart and very much the only soul of this film and definitely the only one who stays with you as the credits roll. Great job. Rest in peace, Whit.