El misterio de su mujer

When I saw S. Sylvan Simon's name on the credits as the filmmaker, I knew immediately this would be a different type of picture. Like Billy Wilder, SSS's comedic background puts a different perspective on the whodunit/mystery genre, let alone its extension into the dark side of film noir.

I especially enjoyed the light and breezy approach of star Franchot Tone to his role as gumshoe, so different from the classical models. Right from the beginning of the saga, his raised eyebrow (a la The Rock) and reactions to the most violent and mortal situations he finds himself in has a debonair as well as carefree attitude. In other hands it would appear to be satire (like a Steve Martin "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid" genre revision), but instead we're carried along with endless clues, switcheroos and blind alleys on almost a romp rather than a thriller.

Just the plethora of leading ladies in major roles is quite different from the norm and all of them add greatly to the narrative. Keeping all the twists and turns straight is quite a challenge, but the final confrontation scene of bringing all the pieces and dangling threads together is a marvel of prestidigitation. For me, it made the cleverness of "Knives Out" seem like child's play.

A detective is hired to investigate the real identity of client's wife, leading him into a tangled thicket of leads.

So where is Janie Joy. Detective Bailey's having a heckuva time finding out, what with all those luscious ladies parading in and out—not that I'm complaining. But the sorting process does get difficult at times. This is a detective story, and not classic noir, more like Philo Vance than Phillip Marlowe. LA-area locations are emphasized rather than light and shadow. But it is a good look at post-war LA, including the photogenic Buster Buffin's Buffett.

As the detective, the slender Tone brings a different kind of appeal. Wisely, the screenplay emphasizes his verbal skills rather than tough-guy brawn. In fact, he almost gets shoved around enough to embarrass fall-guy Elisha Cook Jr. Still, Tone does have a ready smile and easy charm. But that's also a problem for the movie. In short, characters and events lack the kind of grit needed to generate needed menace. Sure, there is a guessing game as to where Janie Joy is, but it's more like a brain-teaser than a fear factor. Plus, screenwriter Huggins clearly knows his way around wisecracks and clever banter. Yet the story's architecture remains murky and plodding. All in all, this is a movie of individual scenes rather than memorable whole.

Nonetheless, it's a good chance to ogle the ladies and their 40's fashions, along with Detroit's four-wheel designs, post-war, that is.

I read the other reviews so I had to add my two cents. I liked Franchot Tone as the Private Eye. It would be easy to underestimate his toughness. The story is well written and well played by the actors. Glenda Farrell's part was especially entertaining. Unlike a couple of other reviewers I didn't find it slow or dull at all. I liked the pace of the story and the dialogue. My only complaint was the very poor quality of the print. One reviewer mentioned seeing it at a festival. I'd love to see a better copy. It's a shame that the PD version out there is so awful. Still, it kept me entertained despite the terrible, almost unwatchable print. Fans of Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett are bound to love the character Roy Huggins created for this film.

I was interested in seeing this after just reading and reviewing the novel on Amazon. A pretty good adaptation, containing scenes and dialogue lifted directly from Huggins' novel. The story has been speeded up and abbreviated, and some of the names have been changed, but if you liked the novel you'll like the movie. Probably one of a million in 1948, but well worth watching for now because of Franchot Tone, the smarty pants Glenda Farrell (The Mystery Of The Wax Museum, Torchy Blaine), and early roles by Raymond Burr (Perry Mason), John Ireland (any number of John Wayne movies).and the prolific character actor Arthur Space. This convoluted movie and the novel were written by the great Roy Huggins (The Fugitive, Rockford Files, and 77 Sunset Strip, which was based on this movie and his novel), and directed by S. Sylvan Simon who died at age forty-two soon after this was released. For those who want to look up the novel, the ending is identical. Enjoy, enjoy.

Don't be put off by the frisky title: I Love Trouble isn't one of those dismal crime-cum-comedy hybrids so inexplicably popular in the '40s (true, a bantering element tries to creep in from time to time but it's held mercifully at bay; one routine, however, starring a hash-slinger named Miss Phipps, deserves to be bronzed).

It's a pretty hard-boiled private-eye yarn, very much in the Raymond Chandler tradition - maybe a bit too much. More specifically, I Love Trouble follows the footsteps tramped out by Murder, My Sweet and The Lady in the Lake, and follows them doggedly. And its subsidiary roles are filled with actors who make up a Who's Who of film noir: Janice Carter, Adele Jergens, John Ireland, Raymond Burr (barely visible, alas), Tom Powers, Eduardo Ciannelli, Steven Geray, Sid Tomack. Parts even smaller (it's a big cast) are filled to the brim with apt characterization.

The principal role of the gumshoe, however, goes to Franchot Tone, who plays it very much in the Powell-and-Mongomery-as-Marlowe style. He's hired by a tough businessman (Powers) to keep tabs on his elusive wife (Lynn Merrick). Tone traces the obligatory route from low dives to high places in his quest, from back alleys in Portland and fish dumps near the oil derricks of Santa Monica (Chandler's corrupt `Bay City') to gated mansions where swimming pools sparkle amid manicured lawns. All Tone knows is that, back in '46 (or was it '41?), Merrick came down from Oregon, where he learns that she was a bubble dancer in a mobbed-up nightclub, who absconded to Southern California with a cheesy comic (Tomack).

Or did she? When another woman claiming to be Merrick's sister (Janet Blair) fails to recognize her picture, Tone finds himself with a lot of pieces none of which seem to fit together. And the heavies from up north are joined by powerful folks in Los Angeles who firmly discourage him from looking any further (when he's not being eyed fetchingly by expensive wives and mistresses, he's conked on the head or drugged up at every turn). Getting warmer, he tries to coax more information from Tomack, only to find the funny fishmonger dead and himself a suspect. But when Merrick's body washes up under a pier, her death opens more questions than it answers....

The director, S. Sylvan Simon, shows considerable promise which was not to be redeemed (he died, at age 41, three years after making this movie). But most of the credit, however derivative, should probably accrue to its writer, and author of the novel on which it's based, Roy Huggins; he also penned Too Late For Tears, Woman in Hiding and Pushover, and, moving to television, would create 77 Sunset Strip, The Fugitive, and The Rockford Files. It goes to show how cracking the books at the school of Raymond Chandler can pay off in the future. So what if I Love Trouble is knockoff Chandler, a cocktail shaken up from two films made from his novels? Chandler neat is a potent shot - even watered down it holds its deep, smoky flavor.