Black Widow

"Black Widow" is a well-written, though old-style, entertaining mystery. The story is taken from a novel by Patrick Quentin, a sound mystery-writer.

However the essence of the movie lies in the magnificent cinemascope photography, colors and visual effects. Note that most scenes have in the background large windows or terraces wide-open on the spectacular, terrific New York sceneries. Even the furniture of the various apartments is carefully chosen and placed, with beautiful artistic effects. Outstanding is the brief scene inside the dark bar, with the costumers merged into a liquid light: an evident reminiscence of Edward Hopper's paintings.

Alas! All these visual beauties are seriously damaged, if not destroyed, by the TV version, which essentially shows just half of the screen.

The performances by all interpreters are generally good and professional. A major (personal) disappointment is that Gene Tierney does nothing. She's not even in the list of suspects, since she was thousands of miles away from New York during the whole murder affair. She just sits silently on the background, adding her incomparable beauty and natural refinement to the magnificent New York views. It should be added that George Raft seems completely out-of-role... but I'm too fond of this guy to be able to criticize him.

"Black Widow" is a good film; hopefully someone will be able to see it on the wide screen.

Five years earlier, this drawingroom drama would have been filmed in small screen b&w. But the year is 1954 and film audiences are staying home with their new-fangled little black boxes. So a big budget studio like TCF takes what amounts to an "Ellery Queen in Manhattan" plot, gussies it up in lavish color, stretches the screen to Cinemascope length, loads up the marquee with big names, and sends the result out to compete with Lucille Ball and Milton Berle. I don't know how well the strategy succeeded commercially, but I enjoyed the movie then and still do.

As a whodunit, the mystery's only partially successful—not enough suspects and too convoluted to follow. At the same time, the pacing sometimes sags in ways that undercut the suspense. Still, the 95 minutes does add up to a gorgeous tapestry, thanks to expert art direction, set decoration, and a well-upholstered cast. And who could hold together a sometimes-confusing storyline better than the always-reliable Van Heflin. Also, I expect urbane writer-director Nunnally Johnson fit comfortably with the sophisticated Manhattan setting and show-biz personalities. So, it's not surprising that he gets off some insider innuendo. Catch the cocktail party shot at gossip columnist Hedda Hopper, known for her bizarre headgear; I expect Johnson was settling an old score there. Then too, having the ingénue (Garner) turn up mysteriously pregnant is rather daring for the straitjacketed Production Code period. Also, watch for the skinny young actor (Oliver) interviewed by Heflin near film's end. That's future TV mogul Aaron Spelling getting a proverbial foot in the door.

Anyway, the film provides an entertaining glimpse of drawingroom drama getting a face-lift during the early years of the television challenge.

Van Heflin gives a striking, forceful performance as a theatrical producer in New York City who befriends a lonely 20-year-old girl at a party; she's a would-be writer hoping for success, he takes a shine to her and offers a helping hand...but then she turns up dead! Curiously mistitled drama really doesn't involve "a predatory female". Peggy Ann Garner is intriguing as the youngster who, in flashbacks, is revealed to be scheming and ambitious, somewhat ruthless, but not a black widow. Gene Tierney has a thankless role as Heflin's wife (she looks grim throughout), but Ginger Rogers is fun as a colorful, gossiping actress. The film has some ridiculous passages, red herrings and side-plots (one involving another young woman who appears to be fabricating a wild story just to frame Heflin is never explored), and a slightly anti-climactic finish. The film looks good and has some funny/catty lines in the beginning, but in the end it all seems a bit silly. **1/2 from ****

I greatly enjoyed this Cinemascope, Stereo-Sound romp, but mainly as a Guilty Pleasure, as it's a film very much of it's time, with mismatched acting styles, lush, unbelievable sets, a central premise that doesn't make much sense (lending your expensive apartment to a just-met down-and-out writer while your wife's away),and an early attempt to make visual sense of the then-new wide-screen process.

Why do I like it? Ginger Rogers is way over the top, popping on and off screen with snappy diva one-liners, like Margo Channing on pep pills; Peggy Ann Garner plays a subversive Lolita, crazy-seductive and irresistible, and you can even spot Aaron Spelling towards the end in a bit part as a theatre employee.

The palette is loaded with pastel colors so popular in the 1950's, and the whole thing is sort of a mild domestic whodunit whipped up into an anemic Douglas Sirk confection. Great it ain't, but because of Rogers, Van Heflin, Gene Tierney (who has very little to do but does it beautifully) and Reginald Gardner, I found it greatly entertaining.

This is a colourful mystery yarn, nothing to deep or steep, with a limited pallet of suspects. In the right hands this could of been a decent "Film Noir" but the colour all rather lush and plush on top of highly unsuitable widescreen which mostly ruins the framing of the actors while giving this studio shot film an artificial look that undermines the suspense. Nonetheless, this is enjoyable froth nicely dated and a good movie for a wet and lazy afternoon.