Lady Scarface

This is a totally forgettable film thanks to poor writing and a clichéd female character. Even worse, fans of Film Noir (like myself) might mistakenly think that this is Film Noir because it stars Dennis O'Keefe--an actor who made his mark in this genre. Considering that O'Keefe plays a cop, it is natural to assume this is yet another example of this exciting style of film. Unfortunately, instead of the great camera work, snappy dialog and dark content, this is an occasionally insipid film that is very forgettable.

The film begins well--with a nasty lady and her gang committing robbery and murder. So far, it SEEMED like Noir. But, despite the title, the emphasis in the film was not on this evil wench but on police work done by O'Keefe and the other cops to catch the gang. This wasn't necessarily a bad choice, but the addition of a "spunky" (think OBNOXIOUS) female reporter to tag along with O'Keefe for most of the film was a big mistake. Her character was a giant walking cliché--you know, the 1940s "petulent woman who THINKS she can make it in a man's world". In fact, she's a lot like Lois Lane but without Superman to save her butt every time she stupidly blunders into trouble. This character single-handedly set back women's equality for a decade.

So what you are left with is a film that is at best a time-passer due to poor writing. Do NOT assume that just because the ever-capable O'Keefe is in this film that it is a winner--it definitely isn't.

The Film is Highlighted by Every Scene with the Dame known as Lady Scarface (Judith Anderson). There is Early Noir Inspiration in the Choice of Showing the Dark Character's Entrance in Striking Shadow. When the "Lady" is in Person the Flesh Crawls. Her Voice is a Siren from Hell.

But when She is Off Screen the Movie Sinks to Comedy Relief and Cartoonish Romantic Boredom. It is Gut-Wrenchingly Awful at Times and comes off as Less a Crime Thriller and more like Nancy Drew. Talk about a Misfire.

Worth a Watch for the Lady Scarface Scenes and Little Else. A Curiosity at Best and is Burdened Beyond Belief by All of the Rest of the Sickly, Smarmy, Sappiness.

Obviously swiftly dashed off by RKO to exploit Judith Anderson's recent notoriety as Mrs Danvers; although in the title role she's - androgynously named Slade, improbably teamed with Arthur Shields and at the conclusion dressed as a maid and brandishing a gun like Rosa Klebb - sadly onscreen for only a few minutes.

Although there are a couple of noirish moments atmospherically lit by veteran cameraman Nicholas Musuraca, the presence of Eric Blore indicates that little of it is to be taken too seriously; and most of the action actually consists of talk in hotel rooms.

B-movies like "Lady Scarface" from 1941 are all of a piece. The basic plot usually concerns an ambitious female reporter and the good- looking police detective in her way; they're in love but don't know it yet.

This film, starring Dennis O'Keefe as the detective and Frances Neal as the reporter, is no different with one exception. Dame Judith Anderson stars as Slade, the the scar-faced head of a robbery gang. This isn't the first time I've seen Anderson go off-type - in the film Blood Money, a precode, she plays a glamorous bejeweled nightclub owner. When you think about one of the great stars of the theater getting these kinds of roles, it's laughable, particularly after her performance in Rebecca as Mrs. Danvers.

Anyway, the film concerns robbery money mistakenly picked up by newlyweds (Mildred Coates and Rand Brooks) and detective O'Keefe following the money in an attempt to trace the crooks.

Rand Brooks of course was Charles Hamilton in "Gone with the Wind". A little bit of trivia - despite enjoying a long career in films and television, Rand owned a private ambulance service, recognized as one of the best in the country.

Entertaining film, worth seeing for Anderson.

`Always leave them wanting more' is one of the hoary axioms of show business, but why there isn't more of Lady Scarface in Lady Scarface is a better mystery than anything the movie has to offer. The title role, a tough Chicago mob boss, falls to Judith Anderson, who more often than not was the best thing in any movie where she happened to appear (e.g. her Mrs. Danvers in Alfred Hitchcock's Rebecca). Title character or no, she takes second billing to Dennis O'Keefe as a minion of the law pursuing her; the billing accurately reflects the screen time each is allotted.

It's a pity, since, apart from Anderson, Lady Scarface is just another print struck from the template of light crime programmers. The bulk of the movie has to do with O'Keefe's following money to New York in order to smoke out the gang. And, to cover all the bases, there's mistaken identity involving a newlywed couple; comic relief in the form of a beef-witted hotel detective and fussy Eric Blore; and a matey romance between O'Keefe and Frances Neal.

But Anderson took her assignments seriously; she brings the same steel to Lady Scarface as she would later to Lady Macbeth. (The movie could have settled for a lesser villain, and Anderson should have held out for a better movie.) The last scene, in which she steals into the Leonard Sheldon Hotel disguised as a chambermaid, looks very much like the final confrontation between James Bond and Rosa Klebb in From Russia With Love. Was that an hommage, or just a steal?