Shed No Tears

The 1948 book's dust jacket states: "Using a brutal pen, Don Martin (the author) has etched a novel-sized portrait of EDNA, a woman without heart or conscience. Edna has only glands, greed and beauty.... It is an earthy, sordid story which must occasionally become indelicate. It is a book to be admired or loathed". Indeed, the icy if slightly 2-dimensional femme fatale (June Vincent) is the central character here who schemes to get her way no matter what, while those around her seek to either investigate or thwart her plans. Fast-paced and twisted (perverted even for a moment or two), her schemes start to unravel and she flails around to try to save what she can. The movie also features a certain detective, an overly verbose, oily and clever maneuverer who gets caught up in the cogs of the plot only to start to pull the levers somewhat himself (while also providing some subtle humour). Keeps you holding on till the end as June Vincent gives a great (if minor) performance as the spiky, brittle, shallow and depraved Edna. Distributed by the short-lived Eagle-Lion Films, whose roster of other B-noirs are also worth a look (e.g. T-Men 1947) - see Wikipedia or the IMDB page for a list.

I love film noir movies. And, although "Shed No Tears" is from a tiny production company (Equity Pictures) and has mostly small-time or over the hill actors, it's a top film--gritty, intelligently written and cold-hearted...the way you WANT noir to be!

When the film begins, a husband and wife have just set up the fake death of the husband. Using a corpse they bought, they then started a fire in a motel room and made it appear as if the husband was the victim. The plan is to then use the husband's insurance policy to get rich and they'll take off and start a new life. However, what the man (Wallace Ford) doesn't know is that his wife is scum....a true femme fatale. You see, his beloved young wife (June Vincent) already has another lover and is planning on keeping all the money!

Into this twisted tale of domestic bliss comes an unknown quantity-- the husband's adult son from a previous marriage. No one anticipated that he'd not believe the way his father supposedly died--and he hires a skunk of a private detective to investigate. I say the dick is a skunk because he soon figures out what's happening and he plans on bleeding the 'grieving widow' of at least some of her insurance money.

If it sounds like most of the people in this film are scum, you have it right. Rarely have I seen a film with so many wonderful twists-- all because most everyone (aside from the son) are just dirt! Additionally, great dialog, lots of smart writing, acting and direction make this a surprisingly strong and entertaining film.

Shed no tears is a 1948 noir starring June Vincent and Wallace Ford, directed by Jean Yarbrough.

Vincent and Ford are Edna and Sam Grover. In the first scene, we see a fire break out in a hotel room and a body emerge from the window. The room was registered to Sam; the corpse was from an undertaker. Sam is i. The car with Edna.

The plan is that he is going to Washington D. C. to await his wife after she collects on his $50,000 insurance policy. In today's dollars, that's $659,000 today. Considering you could buy a house for 7 grand and a car for 1800, wow.

What Sam doesn't realize is that Edna is having an affair with Ray Belden (Mark Roberts) and they are off to Hawaii as soon as the money comes through.

A bit sharper than dear old dad, Sam's son Tom (Dick Hogan) dislikes his stepmom and thinks his father's death was not accidental. His fiance (Elena Verdugo) brings him to a detective (Johnstone White) so the death can be investigated.

The detective is out for himself and soon learns Sam is still alive and wants money from Edna. Sam gets sick of waiting and reappears. Then there is an actual murder. Edna is in trouble up to her neck.

Decent noir, with Vincent convincing as a manipulative woman, giving a noir femme fatale performance and Ford a believable patsy. Johnstone White as the detective has the best role and makes the most of it, supplying both humor and oiliness.

One small thing - a phone number was traced in seconds while in a later film, it seemed to take forever.

Wallace Ford fakes his death in a hotel room fire. He hooks up with his much younger wife (who came up with the idea of the deception), June Vincent, and together they plan on bilking the insurance company for the payoff of 50 grand which will reunite them once she collects. She watches as he gets on the bus, then meets her boyfriend in the parking lot and they talk of how they're going to spend the money.

All this happens in the first ten minutes or so - there's no fat on this baby.

But meanwhile, Ford's son thinks that something is amiss, he thinks that Vincent killed Ford herself and he hires an investigator to prove it. This is where things really start perking as the Clifton Webb-like sleuth, played wonderfully by Johnstone White, soon figures out what's going on and he starts playing the supposed widow and the son against each other as well as Ford himself who comes back to town and discovers his wife in a clinch with her boyfriend.

But wait - there's still more but you're going to have to find out for yourself. Jean Yarbrough, veteran of just about every kind of movie and TV genre, manages to keep one's interest despite a lack of noirish touches. It's likely that he had to get this done in a week or so, so there wasn't any time for complicated camera set-ups. The story here is the main thing, you probably will not be disappointed.

Wallace Ford fakes his own death and heads off to Washington until his wife, June Vincent, can can collect his insurance. Then they'll be off to Mexico to enjoy the money. Ford doesn't know that Vincent has a chiseling boyfriend. While the police agree it looks like an accident, the insurance company wants to investigate. Ford's son, Dick Hogan, thinks it looks suspicious and hires P. I. Johnstone White. White proceeds to play every side for profit.

Director Jean Yarborough has gotten his hands on a nice script by Brown Holmes, Virginia M. Cooke and Don Martin, Unfortunately, what could have been a noir with a mordant comedy turn in the Johnstone role (think of Laughton in THE BRIBE) turns out to be a competent turn by some decent performers; it demonstrates why none of them got out of the B movies. The question is never a matter of what the player will do next, nor how skilled cameraman Frank Redman will shoot this particular shot. Instead, it becomes a matter of wondering where this fascinating script will lead these characters.