Los amores de un canalla

When Clementi Suborin is found murdered, his secretary recounts to the police the story of his rise from Czech refugee to ultra-rich New Yorker. The tale of betrayal, womanizing and fraud confirms that almost everyone who knew him wanted him dead.

"Death of a Scoundrel" is a fictionalized adaptation of the life and mysterious death of Serge Rubinstein. He was a stock and currency manipulator, a playboy, Café society denizen, convicted draft-evader and murder victim. I had never heard of hi, but now i want to know more.

The film is quite good, but somewhat misleading. It is presented as a film noir, but really is more of a biopic. Within the first minute or two we get a heinous murder, but the remainder never gets gritty like you would expect from the opening.

That quote from James Cagney in The Oklahoma Kid seems to be the life motto of George Sanders in Death Of A Scoundrel. I can't believe that George Brent was originally cast in the role because this was a part George Sanders was born to play. Especially with one of his wives Zsa Zsa Gabor in the cast as well albeit too briefly.

Yvonne DeCarlo opens the door to some homicide cops who discover the body of Sanders who is lying there shot to death. DeCarlo herself got a career role as one tough girl from the streets. She and Sanders seem fated with each other, but Sanders is never happy with just one.

Zsa Zsa, Nancy Gates, Coleen Gray are some of the many who encounter Sanders and leave quite the worst for wear.

Sanders is a post war Czech immigrant who with some stolen loot from the rich Victor Jory starts a financial empire that would be the envy of our current president. He's also got the morals of him as well. A little more than 30 years later Michael Douglas got an Oscar for playing Gordon Gekko who seems to have learned from Sanders.

The film is based loosely on the homicide, the still unsolved homicide of Serge Rubinstein who was also found shot to death in a a still unsolved case. He too made a lot of enemies who number in the thousands with reason to do him in.

In Death Of A Scoundrel, Sanders is at his caddish best. An absolute must for his legion of fans.

I first became aware of this movie when I bought the soundtrack composed by Max Steiner back in the 80's. With its Eastern European flavour, the score for "Death of a Scoundrel" was Steiner in top form, and as I later discovered, was one of the best things about the movie.

The film begins with Clementi Subourin (George Sanders) lying shot dead across a bed. His assistant, Bridget Kelly (Yvonne De Carlo), tells his story, which is revealed in a long flashback.

In Czechoslovakia just after WW2, Subourin returns from a concentration camp to visit his brother, played in the film by George Sanders' real-life brother, Tom Conway. After discovering that his brother has virtually forgotten him and even married the girlfriend he had asked him to protect, Subourin turns his brother over to the police for dealing on the black market.

He travels to America where he makes a fortune speculating on the stock market - mostly by questionable means. Along the way he encounters people who either become allies or more likely, enemies. Subourin is ruthless and vengeful, and has affairs with many women, often at the same time. He is a forerunner of the Wolf of Wall Street but seen through the heavy filter of 1950's censorship.

Ultimately, it all unravels and we finally learn who pumped the bullets into him.

The movie covers a lot of ground, and has a good script - for the most part. However it falls down visually. Almost totally studio bound, where a filmmaker like Val Lewton and his team could transform a cheap set into a work of art using the shadows from a shuttered window, the guys who made "Death of a Scoundrel" were masters of over-lighting.

The scenes set in Europe are the worst. It's almost as though someone found an unused storeroom at RKO and thought, "Great, this can be Czechoslovakia".

Apart from his trademark arrogance and disdain; George Sanders' character also shows nervousness, petulance and even a little contrition. It almost seems like too much acting from George. I prefer his Addison DeWitt from "All About Eve" where, although he only displays one mood, absolute superiority, it is undiluted Sanders. His back-story is also poorly thought out. After he has just been released from a concentration camp, he looks amazingly healthy - in the pink in fact. At no point does he seem to carry the baggage from the experience that Rod Steiger does in "The Pawnbroker".

The cast is full of beautiful women. Yvonne De Carlo and Zsa Zsa Gabor are foremost among them, and are numbered in the quartet of women looking down on George Sander's body in the striking poster for the film, which along with Sanders and Steiner, was another element in the sum of the parts that turned out to be greater than the whole.

I caught this on Turner Classic Movies this morning and found it completely mesmerizing. I'm not quite sure what the other reviewer meant when he/she wrote that real people in the 50's didn't talk this way. Real people don't talk like the folks in Gilmore Girls, but I love that show. Complex, witty dialogue attracts me and this movie has it in spades. George Sander's character is an unapologetic liar, seducer, perpetrator of financial fraud, yet he remains charming and watchable at all times. I compare this to his scoundrel role in All About Eve; that character gave me the creeps when he revealed the corruption under the charm and cynicism. In Death of a Scoundrel, the character instead inspires a whole range of emotions including, finally, pity.

I laughed out loud throughout this movie, as Sanders' rogue juggles multiple women. In one scene, his servant announces a rich woman (Zsa Zsa Gabor) has come to his house unexpectedly. He quickly ushers out the woman with whom he's been having tea and romancing. Zsa Zsa comes in and while exchanging pleasantries with him picks up one of the teacups, examines it for lipstick, and says "Beautiful cup" as she sets it down.

In another scene, he is romancing a married woman and invites her to lunch the next day. She comments that he is very bold, seeing as how she is married. He replies that he finds her too fascinating not to pursue. She says, "But I am attached!", and he replies, "I don't want to attach you, I only want to borrow you for a while." Very funny, melodramatic, and eminently watchable film.

Except for a few "establishing" shots here and there and a heavy dose of rear projection magic in a taxi, this film is anchored to the studio. But James Wong Howe's camera work and Max Steiner's lush and diverse (some characters have their own themes) film score, the director refuses to allow the proceedings to take on a cramped and cold feel. George Sanders as "Clementi" is a piece of work. He germinates schemes with the speed of a jack hammer, and every enterprise he embarks on is cloaked in dishonesty and unethical business practices. Stay away from him like the German measles. He tosses away women like used paper tissues. He has no problem using Yvonne DeCarlo (the narrator of the film) to seduce his clients. She is his one true friend and she loves him. Clementi is nearsighted on such matters of the heart. No matter. Zsa Zsa Gabor is around the corner. She keeps him on a short leash and scores a few minor victories. But even she can't control the evil genius for long. I think the scene at the theater was screen writing genius. Clementi, attempting another play for a woman, bankrolls a young, gifted actress in a stage play she is perfect for. After the performance, she goes back to his room and they play out that very same scene in real life, blurring reality that much more. Marvelous. I love the final speech and walk down a long flight of stairs by DeCarlo. As a former dancer, she always had a great physical presence and grace. The music is soft but builds to a crescendo. She looks one way and then another. The camera pulls back as she turns and exits the house, a policeman's silhouette in the glass door. I'm a sucker for these types of dramatic endings. Think (and watch) Michael J. Fox at the end of Casualties of War, and you'll see what I mean.