The Tattered Dress

Big-shot trial lawyer Jeff Chandler gets a client off for a murder in Nevada. The murdered man had been a friend of sheriff Jack Carson. Carson frames Chandler for bribing a juror. When the attorney Chandler and long-suffering ex-wife Jeanne Crain hire begins to talk about plea deals, Chandler fires him and conducts his own defense.

It's directed by the under-rated Jack Arnold, who is best remembered for some fine, subtext-laden monster movies of the era. With Chandler's dramatic, rumbling voice, however, it turns into a well-told soap opera, with undertones of danger from Carson, who is very good in his part. I'm afraid I was put off by the slovenly-lawyered courtroom scenes, in which attorneys accepted hearsay evidence without a whimper, and verdicts that seem unlikely. Other cast members include Edward Platt as a reporter whose job seems to be to follow around Chandler, George Tobias as a not-too-funny comic, Gail Russell as the woman who accuses Chandler of bribery, and Elaine Stewart as a rather dumb blonde.

I'm not sure what exactly drew me to The Tattered Dress but whatever is was I was looking for was not to be found. It starts off promising enough but gradually begins to lose momentum and viewer engagement, firstly as the dialogue becomes very basic. Then the initially strong performance by Jeff Chandler slowly loses effectiveness as we realize his performance here is very one dimensional and frankly overblown for large segments of the film. The courtroom drama scenes in particular are overwrought and lose credibility. Carson's performance was really the bright spot here and he does a fine job elevating The Tattered Dress to its mild watchability.

Jack Arnold's "The Tattered Dress" is a wonderful surprise - a very fine, well-crafted movie from Universal that defies the usual movie pigeonholes of A-movie versus B-movie, and serious film versus exploitation film. It also demonstrates Arnold's versatility as a director: known for his many classic sci-fi/fantasy pictures, yet capable of a classic British comedy hit "The Mouse That Roared" and everything in between including blaxploitation (with Fred Williamson) and excellent work for TV.

Watching it for the first time, some 67 years after release via YouTube, I was immediately struck by the excellent CinemaScope black & white photography, with fine compositions by an unheralded cameraman Carl Guthrie (who shot one of my all-time favorite movies, "Christmas in Connecticut").

But this is an Albert Zugsmith production, and like so many of his exploitation movies features many beautiful actresses like Elaine Stewart (she of the tattered dress) to add a tidbit or so of raciness to an otherwise serious picture.

The script by George Zuckerman, best-known for his screenplays for Douglas Sirk classics, is remarkable, with complex lead characters played by Jeff Chandler (the deeply flawed lawyer who has heroic elements) and well-cast Jack Carson (a most amiable villain). He manages to include courtroom gimmickry that puts a Perry Mason episode to shame, by taking the usual preachiness of a spirited lawyer's speech to nearly satirical extremes.

IMDb submitters have classified the movie incorrectly as "film noir" and "Psychotronic" (apologies to Michael Weldon, who I knew well back in Cleveland before we both moved to NYC). Just as the word "cult" has been misused and widely overused in recent decades, I prefer "overlooked" or "misunderstood" as more accurate to describe so many great movies ranging from Hugo Haas to Ken Russell that eventually have found a niche and latter-day appreciation. (Growing up in the '50s, it was the word "camp", both high and low, that was how film buffs treated similar off-beat content.)

There seems to me as a writer and critic to be a bad tendency among U.S. reviewers to confuse their emotional and unaccountable reactions with information. For instance, I regard Jeff Chandler as a very good classical actor; I assert this because he has the vocal power, sufficient emotional voltage and the high intelligence to play characters in the distant past, future, positions of nobility and professions.  But I also claim to be able to tell among his strongest portrayals, and those which were less successful. In "A Tattered Dress", for instance, the dress referring to the robes which cloak the naked female statue of justice, I believe Chandler has one of his most fascinating parts in this film by anyone's standards.  And one of his best successes.He plays a lawyer who was refused employment as a poor student once he had been admitted to the bar in the Depression era; to overcome this injustice, he began taking clients who were criminals, who could pay him. In the years since then, he has become a famous and deeply- hated lawyer, because of those criminals whom he represents. The fascinating twist to this Jack Arnold directed noir is that he wins his original case. A husband had been accused of having killed his wife's lover, after she has come with "a tattered dress'. Then, thanks to collusion between the town's average-guy closet-dictator sheriff, and those supporting him, the lawyer finds himself accused of having bribed a juror during the case. His estranged wife returns to stand by him; he elects to be defended by the best lawyer he knows, himself. and this proves to alienate the townsfolk even further. He shakes the juror's testimony, but he must resort to a magnificent last defense, equating the tattered dress with justice itself that is thwarted, to plead his case as a human being who has been wronged more than he has wronged anyone. he is acquitted, which leads to a strongly-written climax and ending. This is a well-made and well-directed thriller; besides veteran Arnold's direction, this B/W drama features original music by Frank Skinner and Henry Mancini, fine cinematography by Carl E. Guthrie, outstanding art direction by Alexander Golitzen and Bill Newberry, set decorations by John P. Austin and Russell A Gausman. The very good costumes were the creation of J.A. Morely, Jr., with makeup being the work of Bud Westmore. Among the cast, Jeff Chandler's work as the lawyer accused is award level and memorable, varied in tone and nuanced. Others who brought to life George Zuckerman's finely-crafted script, drawn from a novel included Jack Carson as the sheriff, Jeanne Crain as the lawyer's wife, Gail Russell as the juror in question, Philip Reed as the husband, plus talented Edward Andrews Elaine Edwards, George Tobias, Edward Platt, Alexander Lockwood, Paul Birch, Edwin Jerome and William Schallert. This is a film that must be judged I assert by what it is, not what any observer wished it might have been. It is a very powerful indictment of U.s. societal justice as long ago as the 1930s; and of the citizens of a representative town who allow their prejudices to interfere with their judgment. Similar movies had been made, in the same era as this, about other democratically-elected governments and their statist countries, such as England and France. But the content of this scorching indictment of postmodernist truth-twisters and their all-too-willing victims is a very United States story, and one coming from the H.U.A.C era as well. A very strong film.

It is, after all, 1957, the badly ripped garment of the title, reveals only that Elaine Stewart has been the victim of a sexual assault by Floyd Simmons and that she is clearly in.... distress.

Fuming hubby, Phillip Reed, soon settles the issue, with the hapless Simmons winding up on the wrong end of a bullet. Cue for the timely entrance of whip smart, fast talking defence lawyer, Jeff Chandler. A crumbling marriage to Jeanne Crain aint gonna stop HIM from winning a case. In another life he could have made his fortune selling refrigerators to Eskimos and is given a wide berth by any donkey that values its hind legs!

Sharp as a tack, he turns sharp as a cushion sheriff (Jack Carson) into mincemeat on the stand, winning both the battle of the gabble and the gavel plus an acquittal along the way. Barely half way through and this sultry drama, with it's poolside culture resembles an undress rehearsal for 'Anatomy of a Murder'....until...

The bewildered Chandler is framed, accused of bribing juror, Gail Russell and the previously intimidating lawyer finds himself the victim of intimidation from the small, closely knit community. Meanwhile, the chunky, chirpy sheriff begins doing evil by numbers; from the giveaway glint in the eye, to bully boy lover, to murderous menace. All carried out with a superficially nonchalant, 'Who me?' persona, which cuts no ice with the astute Chandler for one second.

Shot in Cinemascope and undeniably voguish, this Rock'n'Roll era noir appears to be consciously anticipating the sixties, but much of the intended impact is lost in a wordy, sluggish execution, culminating in Chandler's soul bearing speech. An inordinate outpouring of Shakespearian proportions. What had the potential to be a taut, tense thriller, becomes an unduly padded, plodding, ponderous and over indulgent triumph of style over substance.