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A romantic relationship between a charming, erudite gambler/hood and a wayward rich gal. Sounds like it could be promising, especially when the girl is played by Virginia Mayo with whom it is almost always worthwhile spending time. Unfortunately, the clunky screenplay by William Sackheim resolves the central conflict between these two halfway through the friggin picture so that the second half lacks any dramatic tension whatsoever. Plus, Sackheim's dialogue is, with the exception of a few Tom D'Andrea zingers (the future Gillis on "Life Of Riley" is here playing the Eve Arden role), humorless and stiff with lines like: "We are two trains meeting in a depot and now going separate ways". Oh, lordy. Also not helping matters is overscoring from David Buttolph (a poor man's Bronislau Kaper) and undistinguished cinematography from the usually good Ted McCord that gives the film a most generic back lot look. Give it a generous C plus, mostly for Mayo.

Virginia Mayo stars with Bruce Bennett in "Smart Girls Don't Talk," a 1948 noir courtesy of Warner Brothers.

Mayo plays Linda Vickers, who is caught in a robbery at a gambling casino owned by Marty Fain (Bennett). At one time, she had money; now she bounces checks. Fain doesn't want the police involved, so he asks his thugs to pay the criminal a visit and offers to pay back the customers for what they lost in the robbery. Vickers comes in with a tall story about losing $18000 in jewelry, and Fain demands to see the insurance policy. They go to her apartment in Fain's car and he says hers will be returned to her in the morning. At Linda's place (of course he knew she didn't have any policy) they have a drink...fade out. The next day the police arrive, and she finds out her car was used in a murder. The murdered man is the one who robbed the casino. Vickers makes some not so subtle hints about blackmail.

Linda's surgeon brother, 'Doc' (Robert Hutton) arrives and doesn't like Fain or the fact that his sister is involved with him. The plot thickens and soon, Doc becomes involved in some bad business.

Pretty good but not fabulous either in story or acting. The main actors are all likable, though. Mayo was very attractive with a terrific figure, and she did well in these noirs. Robert Hutton in looks has always reminded me of Jimmy Stewart. Bennett was always straightforward in his delivery with little variation. Nevertheless, he was certainly a remarkable man, an Olympic Silver medal winner in shotput under his real name, Herman Brix, went onto a career in films and lived to be 100.

If you are a fan of noirs, as I am, see this and enjoy it.

This isn't bad but it has a false ring. Virginia Mayo is OK. At the start we hear about her being from a high society family with no money left to back that up. This gets lost.

She gets involved in a gambling house raid. The proprietor kind of likes her and also sees her as someone he could use. Enter her brother, the honest "Doc," just out of medical school. He sets her straight about the bad guys but they kill him.

The settings are believable -- clubs, apartments, streets. But it has no sense of reality. It's very formulaic.

The lower budget studios like PRC and Republic -- where have those all gone? They used to appear on local TV regularly -- did noir well. And surprisingly, MGM did it very well too.

Warner Bothers, which released this, had some very good ones but they were of a distinct kind. They were about detectives often, though "Nora Prentice" has the same leading man and is head and shoulders above this.

In sum, it moves along but it doesn't really work.

Ms. Mayo must have been friends with bit part player Helen Westcott, who had a fine career, because I remember both of them fondly from the film Flaxy Martin. I can't help but wonder if Mayo got Westcott her part in this film. Westcott's performance here is formidable, especially when questioned by the police; but my fondness of her is from Flaxy Martin.

As far as Smart Girls Don't Talk, I think it's the script that truly drags down this potential entry in the noir style. It's difficult to fault the director. Cinematography is good. Lighting not so noir.

I confess I've seen this at least five times, and yet I'm still not sure why. Is it because sometimes subpar is entertaining? Is it because it's Mayo? It's certainly not because it's the talented but lanky Bruce Bennett.

Perhaps I'm truly a junkie for 1940s Hollywood. In all honesty, this one's a toss-up. Heads or tails you'll like it or dislike it.

Petty criminal Johnny Warjack and his gang hold up the Club Bermuda, a casino nightclub. Club owner Marty Fain (Bruce Bennett) allows them to escape and orders his men to track them down later. Fain is covering all his customers' stolen cash. Not all the claims are believed. Broke socialite Linda Vickers (Virginia Mayo) insists that she lost expensive jewelry. In turn, Fain insists on seeing her insurance policy... at her apartment. On the next morning, Warjack is found murdered and police Lieutenant McReady (Richard Rober) comes to interview Vickers.

It's crime B-drama. It has some limited noir style. Virginia Mayo is doing yeoman's work. I like the premise and how it starts. It could go harder. A modern movie would play up the erotic part and add in more action. The story is not that dramatic. It has an interesting spin but it's nothing outstanding. It's solid work all around.