Cry Danger

Among the male stars of the noir cycle, Dick Powell was the most peevish. When Humphrey Bogart smart-talked, it was with a wry bonhomie; when Robert Mitchum did it, it was with mumbled nonchalance. But when Powell snaps back a retort, you know he's got his dander up. This drastic change from his earlier days as happy-go-lucky hoofer began with his assumption (the first) of Philip Marlowe in Murder, My Sweet and continued in Cornered, Johnny O'Clock, To the Ends of the Earth, and The Pitfall. His prickly temper informs Robert Parrish's Cry Danger, the last true noir he would appear in before affecting a pipe and cardigans in The Bad and the Beautiful.

Carrying a grip with the weight of the world in it, Powell steps off a train in Los Angeles; he's just spent five years in prison for a robbery and murder for which he took the rap. Luckily, a war-wounded and hard-drinking Marine (Richard Erdman), with whom he was supposedly drinking when the job was pulled, surfaced to give him an alibi. But Powell has never met this old buddy before.

Nonetheless, they throw their lot together and rent an armadillo-like trailer in a run-down park, where the wife of his old partner (Rhonda Fleming) lives, too. Powell has scores to settle, beginning with big-time bookie William Conrad who, he reckons, owes him $50-grand. Conrad pays off in classic mob fashion, by giving him a tip on a fixed race. The payoff money puts the police on his tail, as its marked bills are part of the take from the old robbery. But all traces of the illegal book have vanished, so Powell can't prove his innocence. He starts stalking Conrad for revenge, even though he's dodging pot-shots in the trailer park, while the duplicity that ensnared him lies much closer to home....

Cry Danger has a number of points in its favor, chief among them the pitiless photography of Joseph Biroc (it's decidedly the low-rent side of the City of Angels). Parrish keeps hustling the story along, nonetheless slowing down enough to allow Erdman a craftily underplayed, memorable performance (the same can't be said of Fleming, who simply lacks the wherewithal to function convincingly as femme fatale). There's a high quotient of violence, too – particularly when Powell extracts a confession from Conrad through a one-sided game of Russian Roulette. Somehow, though, the ingenuity of the earlier part of the picture starts to peter out near the end, turning its oddly low-key ending into something of an afterthought.

This film was shot on location in and around the Bunker Hill area of Los Angeles in the 1950's. The seedy trailer park, the crummy cocktail bars, and the Union Station (built in 1939) are the backdrop for a much better than average tale of revenge. Dick Powell gets off a train at the Union Station after spending 5 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit. He is met by a cop (Regis Toomey) that thinks he not only did the crime, but that he has stashed the loot. Also on the welcoming committee is Richard Erdman as an alcoholic former Marine that provided Powell with an alibi that got him out of prison. Rhonda Fleming plays the wife of a pal of Powell's that remains in prison for the crime. Powell intends to prove not only his innocence, but that of his buddy.

Add to the mix William Conrad as a bad guy with his own agenda and you have a better than average noir. The dialog between Powell and Erdman is dark and funny at the same time. The cinematography captures a part of Los Angeles that fell under the urban renewal wrecking ball that ripped the soul out of this part of the city. Not the greatest film noir ever made, but one of my favorites. Why isn't this film out on DVD?

With Cry Danger, Dick Powell said good bye to the noir genre that had served him well since his electrifying Philip Marlowe in Murder My Sweet. Hard to believe the applecheeked tenor of all those sappy Warner Brothers musicals was the tough guy in some of the best noir films ever done. His few remaining films were not noir and pretty soon Powell was strictly on the small screen.

Powell in this case is a bookie who was sent up for a robbery that he didn't commit. He's out now due to an alibi provided by Richard Erdman who says Powell had been drinking with him the night the robbery had taken place.

With five years of his life taken from him, Powell's out to find who framed him and he hunts with only the determination Dick Powell can muster. He nearly gets framed again when he's given some of the hot money from the robbery to make a bet.

Usually in noir films, cops are usually a bit on the slow side unless the protagonist is a cop. Regis Toomey who plays the cop who arrested Powell five years before is an exception. He has Powell trailed from the moment he leaves prison and that pays off for him and for Powell.

This is a nicely done crisp little crime thriller. Good photography of the seamy side of Los Angeles, especially the trailer park where Powell is residing with Erdman, Rhonda Fleming who's the wife of his partner who's still in prison and Erdman's gal Jean Porter. The trailer park is pretty seedy, but with Rhonda Fleming there it does have its compensations.

Dick Powell is pardoned for a crime and searches for justice in post-war Los Angeles. Powell moves into a seamy trailer park on a hill overlooking the downtown (there is a great film shot of this) and teams with a disabled ex-marine. Powell confronts a gangster named Castro, played by William Conrad. Castro is definitely bad news for everyone around him.

The plot is not exceptional and certainly does not transcend B-movie standards, but the film is visually good and somehow the characters and the setting create a milieu which draws in the viewer. Definitely worth watching.

Like the old Sinatra song, things can be far better the second time around. The first time I saw "Cry Danger" it was shortly after a viewing of "Murder, My Sweet" and it just couldn't compare to that classic. I recently viewed the movie again and I must say that "Cry Danger" was a lot of fun.

The real stars of the movie are 1) the dialogue, and 2) Dick Powell's delivery of that dialogue. Bogart and Mitchum are blue collar guys who deliver these kinds of one-liners beautifully...and it stings...but Powell has an air of elegance and intelligence wrapped in a white collar, so when he gets caustic, condescending, sarcastic, and nasty, it seems to hurt even more. And it hurts so good. There is nothing more delicious to Noir fans than Powell letting rip with a great one-liner. And the more casual he is, the more "tossed away" the line is delivered, the more we grin with satisfaction. It's just a thing of beauty.

The supporting cast is good, with just about everyone pulling their weight admirably. William Conrad, Regis Toomey, and Rhonda Fleming are in fine form. I was expecting twists, turns, and deceit from Erdman's character, but after an interesting reveal in the beginning of the film, his character seems to be abandoned and left only to provide some comic relief. That missed opportunity aside, though, the script is fun and moves along briskly.

The direction is just fine, though not as dark as I would have liked it...but that is a minor complaint. There is a rawness and realism to these B films that I find much more rewarding than a lot of the glossy A films produced.

8 out of 10 for a thoroughly enjoyable hour and a half crawl through the seedy underbelly of Tinsel Town.