The Guilty

Decent noir that captures Cornell Woolrich's world of isolated, tortured men and the women over whom they obsess. Love the fact that it's all shot at night since nothing weakens this genre more than too much light, literally and otherwise. Congrats to cinematographer Henry Sharpe. And I must say I did not see the denouement coming until it was almost upon me, so congrats to scenarist Robert Presnell, as well.

Problems center around the rather languid pacing, for which director John Reinhardt must take the fall. Too much of the film, undoubtedly trying to communicate Woolrich's sense of moral deadness, itself feels half dead. And Don Castle, the "poor man's Clark Gable" who is actually more like Lee Bowman's kid brother, is, to put it mildly, not a skilled enough actor to enliven the somnolent proceedings. I will say, however, that Bonita Granville does a credible job of portraying a femme poised between fatale and decent. And Regis Toomey's somewhat smarmy cop is so good that I wish he'd been in the film more.

Bottom line: I've seen a lot worse noirs. Give it a B minus.

Army buddies Mike Carr and Johnny Dixon are roommates after the war. They get involved with twins Linda and Estelle Mitchell (Bonita Granville). When Linda dies, suspicion falls on Johnny who was dating her. Alex Tremholt is the fatherly longtime renter at the Mitchell home. Detective Heller investigates. In the present time, Mike is narrating the story while discussing it with a bartender.

This has classic noir construction. One twin is good and the other is bad. It's a B-movie. It's stripped down. The actors are functional. Bonita Granville is doing both twins. They could differentiate the twins a bit more. I wonder if they should put on a wig for one of them. It's not the best acting nor the worst. There is some big over-acting. It has overwrought noir style although the camera work is mostly perfunctory. The story has plenty of turns which functions well and I like the final twist which is meant to overturn the audience's expectations. The filmmaker is able to execute this classic twist by underplaying him. It's well done.

Both somewhat dull and weirdly fascinating, the flick starts with a long voiceover and lengthier flashback to explain how two army buddies, later roommates, (one incapacitated by PTSD, the other attending night school to better himself) get mixed up with a pair of twin sisters of opposite character (Bonita Granville). When one of them suddenly disappears, the investigation begins. Don Castle plays the straight upstanding veteran beside Wally Cassell's nervous wreck, and the two find ways to ward off a cloud of suspicion over their possible involvement in the disappearance. This is a rough-and-ready B movie but all the more authentic for that. Shot entirely in the gloom of night, it's dreary, rain-soaked and confined to about three locations - but the strange relationship between the ex-soldiers and the twins keeps one engaged, as does the whodunnit aspect, which turns out to be overly convoluted. A palpable sense of ennui, existential angst and cynicism runs through the film which, with some excellent use of shadow and light, elevate this low-budget Monogram movie into something very watchable. There's plenty to like here.

In 1946, Olivia De Havilland donned monogram brooches and identity necklaces to take the dual role of good and bad twins Ruth and Terry in Robert Siodmak's The Dark Mirror. The following year Bonita Granville followed suit, as good and bad twins Linda and Estelle, in Monogram's sub-basement adaptation of a Cornell Woolrich story. Of the two, The Guilty is the creepier, more haunting movie, taking a place of dubious honor amid the nether reaches of film noir.

Mustachioed Don Castle shares his walk-up flat with his superior from army days, Wally Cassel, who's a little unstable owing to a head injury sustained in combat. They're involved in a complicated foursome with the twins; when one of the fellows breaks up with one of the girls, the other takes up with the ditched sister. But the insanely jealous Estelle keeps playing one guy off the other; she wants both and her sister to have neither. One night Linda disappears; later her body is found on a rooftop, in a barrel of gravel (she was too big to shove down the incinerator shaft). Police investigator Regis Toomey encounters a baffling maze of alibis and false clues (Castle is on the hunt as well), until the movie ends with climaxes within climaxes.

All this takes place in but three sleazy sets: The men's apartment; that of the twins, their mother and a long-time boarder (John Litel); and a corner bar from which most of the story is narrated in flashback. A few forays into the dark, deserted streets only enhance the claustrophobia, the obsessiveness of Woolrich's nightmare vision. (And his obsessive fiction reuses the same themes and gambits over and over; there are parallels here to the same year's The Fall Guy, which resembles The Black Angel, which...).

Granville, of course, will ever be the screen embodiment of Nancy Drew, from the four programmers she starred in as the teenaged sleuth during the late '30s. Her career started to sputter in the next decade; for one thing her girlish exuberance didn't blossom into womanly glamor. But she developed a tough, no-nonsense, very-'40s face (not unlike Ann Savage's). Her noir appearances were limited to a small (but meaty) role in The Glass Key and a leading one in the low-budget Suspense. It's a shame, because grew up into quite a good bad girl.

Bonita Granville was an extremely talented younger actress, as was clear from 'The Beloved Brat' (1938) and the four Nancy Drew films she made, for instance. She had a special charm and directness which was most refreshing. Here she is, somewhat older, playing identical twins in an extremely low-budget noir thriller produced by her husband Jack Wrather. The sets are so cheap, it seems as if a puff of wind would blow them down, and they are bleak as well, perhaps on purpose to make the atmosphere one of desolation. She is certainly cast against type, since the main twin whom she plays is a bad girl, and Bonita was famous for being a sweetie pie. However, it works, and she proves she can be as sultry and venomous as any gal if she wants to, and she does want to. The two guys are Don Castle and Wally Cassell, which reminds me that Louis Ferdinand-Celine wrote a novel the English title of which is 'Castle to Castle', not bad for this situation, if we change it to 'Cassell to Castle', as one twin passes between the two guys. This is a very powerful and effective noir story with its twists and grisly side. As it is 1947, there is a guy suffering from serious shell-shock, holding his face in his hands and saying: 'I'm going to crack up completely again, like I did the first time'. There are desperate undercurrents of insane jealousy and passion, a disappearance and murder, seething resentments and kisses that are more like football touchdowns, they are so rough. For something made for ten dollars, this is a really good thriller. The voice-over narrative works extremely well, and the whole thing is a knockout if you can forgive the fact that somebody along the way forgot about the need for production values. Anyway, there's Bonita, and you even get two for the price of one.