Diario de una desconocida

When a reporter finds a beautiful girl dead of tuberculosis in a cheap hotel room, he pockets her little black book to learn more about her... but no one's talking, and the ones that try to have a nasty habit of getting killed. The basic detective story template in the Hammett vein with a touch of CITIZEN KANE and LAURA as Rosita's life is revealed through flashbacks. Alan Ladd is fun to watch, and there's some pretty good supporting parts. Donna Reed gets second billing, but she only appears in snippets for maybe about 10 minutes total. The film has good atmosphere and makes nice use of locations, but is so convoluted that it can be tough to follow. The lousy copy I watched didn't help. I'd like to see it again in a decent presentation. A solid and moody film but a little too confusing.

Alan Ladd does a good job as a Chicago newspaper reporter in this mystery tale of a beautiful young girl in her twenties whom he finds dead. He takes her address book and puts it in his pocket and then reports her death to the police. He is determined to find out about her. And that leads to dangers, murders, and plenty of complications. Ladd one by one contacts the people she knew to try to piece together what is going on, nearly getting killed several times in the process, and others are killed as well to stop them talking. He identifies her and meets her very sympathetic brother, played by Arthur Kennedy, but he cannot tell the whole story. We see flashbacks as different people tell Ladd parts of the tale, and in those the girl is played by Donna Reed with her usual sympathetic face and quiet manner. This excellent film noir is little known but deserves attention. It is a good'un.

Reporter Alan Ladd (Ed Adams) outrageously interferes with things when he steals an address book from the room in which Donna Reed (Rosita) is found dead. He retraces her life by contacting the people in this address book and a few people get bumped off along the way.

Unfortunately Donna Reed hasn't led a very interesting life so God knows why anyone would show any interest in pursuing her address book, especially as her death is not at all suspicious. Alan Ladd is obviously a weirdo.

A lot of time is spent on the telephone in this film. It's just blah blah blah on the blower! Still, the film is OK even if you can't follow the cast of thousands. Alan Ladd sums things up for you at the end with a synopsis of what has just happened. But he delivers it at breakneck speed so it doesn't really help. It's a vehicle for Alan Ladd and it's all a bit pointless.

I have seen this excellent movie in 1951 in Barcelona/Spain when I was 20 and I liked it then and continue to like now very much, I considered it one of the greatest noir classic movies in history. Alan Ladd is fantastic in his role as a reporter; Donna Red is beautiful and had great performance in his playback roll, as Arthur Kennedy and the rest of the cast. is a pity that original seams lost. I have a copy of a VHS from a Honolulu TV, but it can be watched pretty well. the story is very well done by writers Warren Duff and Tiffany Thayer, and the development of the history very well done by director Lewis Allen. Alan Ladd one of my preferred actors is superb and I had said all the cast specially June Havoc, beautiful and charm-ant actress. the end of the movie remains on your mind as one of best ends of a movie in Hollywood history. I highly recommend for the be-lovers of noir classics.

Reporter Alan Ladd stumbles across a strange woman, dead of tuberculosis in a seedy Southside hotel. Her address book, however, hints at a wild and well-connected past. (The girl, with the improbable moniker of Rosita Jean D'Ur, is played in flashback by the improbable Donna Reed.) Ladd's quest, as any noir quest should, takes him up and down the intricate layers of Chicago society, through some of which his tour guide is society dame June Havoc, who plays it with panache. This downfall of a good kid with some bad breaks begins to obsess Ladd, and Chicago Deadline (it's been remarked) could almost have been a grittier Laura set not in high society but on cusp where shabby respectability meets the demimonde. But the cunning Vera Caspary (who wrote the novel Laura) is alas nowhere in evidence, so Chicago Deadline becomes almost an object lesson in Edmund Wilson's dictum that the heavy atmospherics in detective fiction are rarely justified by the conclusion. Nonetheless, for most of its running time, Chicago Deadline is a dark and haunting ride.