Night Editor

Synopsis Crane Stewart (Charles D. Brown), the editor of the New York Star, while playing poker with his friends, tells a story about a cop involved in a murder investigation.

In flashback, the editor tells the tale of police lieutenant Tony Cochrane (William Gargan), a family man who cheats on his wife with socialite femme fatale Jill Merrill (Janis Carter). Cochrane and the woman, who is also cheating on her husband, witness a man bludgeoning his girlfriend to death with a tire iron while the couple is parked at "lovers lane" by the beach.

The two can't report the crime without revealing their cheating, a dilemma which eventually leads to bigger troubles. Meanwhile, Cochrane must investigate the killing but is not able to tell anyone he witnessed the crime.

This movie was supposed to be the first in a series of Night Editor movies, but it's the only one that was ever made.

It's definitely Film Noir (I've been watching quite a few so called Film Noir movies and many just aren't. This is a fairy good example of the genre, although it sure is "talkie." I would have preferred some more action.

A lot more action. On the plus side, it's a really short film. I guess it was part of a two feature showing.

Night Editor was the proposed "pilot" for a series of B-movie programmers introduced by a bunch of graveyard-shift reporters working the police beat. The series came to naught, but this maiden effort bears watching. William Gargan is a basically decent married detective on the force who has been getting a little action on the side with rich dame Janis Carter, a haut-40s glamourpuss in the Claire Trevor/Helen Walker/Audrey Totter mold whose few performances leave us wondering why her career wasn't a lot bigger. Parked in a lover's lane one night, they witness a man bludgeoning his girlfriend to death with a tire iron. In the movie's most notorious scene, Carter reaches a pitch of erotic frenzy from this random act of sadistic voyeurism. Gargan then has to investigate the crime while keeping mum about the fact that he saw it happen. Of course it turns out that the murderer was not a stranger, but a well-to-do banker friend of Carter's.... Night Editor is a splendid example of why, in the early postwar years, audiences took to these dimly lit, zero-budget, quick-and-dirty crime dramas: They were unapologetically sleazy, they had no time for the sentimental gloss that Hollywood had confected, and they were shocking fun.

Catch that big crashing wave as spider woman Jill (Carter) reaches her own kind of climax. There's nothing like viewing a mangled dead body to get some spider women off, and Jill's some kind of cold-hearted 40's temptress. Too bad cop Cochrane (Gargan) doesn't run for the hills or maybe even his loving wife after viewing this little perverse episode. Instead, he covers up the murder he and Jill just eye-balled. After all, neither wives nor city fathers reward philandering husbands. So how is Cochrane going to clear his conscience once an innocent man is about to get fried for a murder the two illicit lovers know he didn't commit.

My guess is Night Editor was hoping to repeat the success of the noirish Whistler series, also adapted from radio. It didn't happen, but not because of a failure in this 60-minutes. Sure, it wraps up in conventional fashion, even if imaginatively done. After all, there was a stultifying Production Code in effect. Still, the other 55-minutes amounts to a nail-biting trip down black shadow lane. Actor Gargan may not show much emotion as the conflicted cop. But then he's got to keep his real feelings inside. Otherwise he might give it all away, which includes not just his job but wife and family, as well. So, how did he get mixed up with the blonde man-eater in the first place. Apparently it was from working on a prior case that involved Jill and her ritzy clueless husband. It appears she sets a mean trap for about every guy crossing her predatory path, including bank presidents.

No doubt about it, Jill's on the very edge of 40's perversity. Carter really looks the part of blonde ice-queen, even if nuance is not her strong point. I was hoping for some big-eye close-ups that made her similar role in Framed (1947) so memorable, but director Levin's camera stays mainly at a neutral distance. On the whole, it's the script and dark material that carry events.

Anyway, this early noir is a neglected must-see. I'm not going to say gem, since it doesn't quite rise to that level. Still, for sheer 1940's daring, Harold Smith's crafty little screenplay remains an eye-opener.

This is a story told in flashback by the night editor of a newspaper to warn off Coulter Irwin (Johnny) from misbehaving away from home. It is the tale of policeman William Gargan (Tony) who is playing away from home with Janis Carter (Jill). One night they witness a murder but Gargan hesitates in pursuing the culprit for the sake of revealing his affair and bringing shame upon himself. The murder is investigated by his homicide team but things don't sit comfortably with him when an innocent man is sentenced to death for the crime. He holds the key to a stay of execution but will he reveal his hand?

The film gets off to a slow start - the first fifteen minutes are actually quite annoying as we have to suffer some crass dialogue from a boy, eg, "I get lonesome sometimes". It's unrealistic dialogue and makes the boy seem like a drip. You can actually see why Gargan is having an affair when we are also introduced to the sickly nice Jeff Donnell (Martha) who plays his wife. If you can get past the rather sentimentally awful beginning, then you will be rewarded as scheming Janis Carter makes an appearance.

As regards the cast, everyone has good and bad moments: Janis Carter is unintentionally hilarious when she loses control of her emotions and begs to see the dead body of the murdered woman, Paul E Burns (Strom) puts on an awful foreign accent from nowhere but succeeds in being likable as Gargan's police buddy, while Gargan himself is a bit too zombie-like on occasion.

Despite the cast being slightly off, the film still works and the story keeps you watching. You may guess the outcome but you will also be entertained by some of the twists.

This is a superb film noir B picture. It stars William Gargan as a cop, and the sizzling dish Janis Carter as the femme fatale. And what a femme and how fatale! She is really something. What a pity she did not achieve the status in films which she clearly deserved. Here she plays a hyper-glamorous psychotic man-eater. Poor, bumbling homicide detective Gargan is no match for her. He succumbs, and succumbs, and succumbs. Well, one evening things get complicated. One has to remember that he is happily married to sweetie Martha, played with big loving eyes and a warm smile by 'Jeff' Donnell (she was born Jean Marie but was always called by the nickname of Jeff; see her also as Sylvia Nicolai in IN A LONELY PLACE, 1950), and adores his son. But there he is sitting in a car in a lover's retreat off the road, with Miss Glamour-puss, doing his usual succumbing, when another car pulls up and does not see them. The man proceeds to bash in the skull of the girl and then runs off, but not before they see his face very clearly in the headlights. It later transpires that Janis knows the man very well, but she says nothing at the time. Gargan starts to give chase but then realizes that he dare not do so because his involvement with Janis will come to light and his wife might leave him. So he endures an enforced silence and is then a member of the homicide team which investigates that very crime. A wrong man is accused and is about to 'get the chair'. Tension mounts. Should he do the right thing and stop the execution, at the risk of his career and his marriage? He wants to, but Janis is going crazier and crazier. She is so nuts that she makes statements like: 'I don't know why I do these things' as she tries to stab a man to death. Just the kind of girlfriend one wants! She is a rich socialite and highly sophisticated, thus intimidating the humble Gargan further. As he bitterly says to her at one point: 'You and I both add up to zero.' Every time he tries to leave her, she kisses him, which all goes to show just how dangerous kissing can be. After they have seen the murder, Janis gets a wild look in her eye and, in the midst of a seizure of psychotic excitement, says she wants to go and look at the girl's bashed-in skull and all the brains spattered all over the car because it excites her, and Gargan restrains her only with great difficulty. Janis really is very convincing in all of these scenes, and it is all pretty hair-raising. And so the story progresses. I must not reveal the ending. The next year, Janis went on to scare people further in FRAMED (1947).