La mujer de dos caras

In his final case Dr. Ordway (Warner Baxter) attempts to solve a murder in a highly interesting place: a sort of call-in jukebox where bar customers may request a particular record to be played. (The same gimmick, incidentally, used in the 1945 Republic serial "Federal Operator 99.") Although Baxter looks near exhausted (the veteran actor died less than 2 years later), the whodunit zips along nicely and the solution to the puzzle is not telegraphed too far in advance. Acting honors this time go to Whit Bissell as a slightly demented song-writer and, especially, future Miss Moneypenny of 007 fame, Lois Maxwell, as the decidedly active ingénue. Based on a popular radio show by Max Marcin, the 1943-1949 "Crime Doctor" thrillers were typical of series-happy Columbia, produced with economy but generally well-written and peopled by the studio's great (and very busy) stock company.

As has earlier been commented, Whit Bissell's performance here as an aspiring and mentally challenged composer is a scene-stealer. He intuitively takes the film to another plane with a blissful unawareness that is inadvertent and yet elevating. Along with the tragic end of his character Tom Lister in "Brute Force" this is one of his most affecting performances of the forties. Probably the second most affecting. He seems to inhabit this role as opposed to the other actors in the film who seem to just be going through their paces robotically and quite superficially with little or no special touch of humanity other than to move the story along so they can pick up their check. The film stops when he comes on the screen and you do a double take because you sense this performance is a silk purse in a sow's ear of a film. His character Pete Bellem, touching, halting and muddling along, stays with you when everyone else in the film just fades away into cardboard kitsch heaven. And that song of his so conscientiously crumbles upon itself that it takes on a profound, sad and yet sweet resonance which belies its silliness. Whit was a talented pianist, by the way. He puts that to use here (and in some other roles through the years). He was also a fencing enthusiast in real life. His character Pete Bellem, harmless and hampered and even harassed here by those who have no time of day for him and, in their self-anointed intellectual superiority, belittle what they feel are his mental limits, may be in a world of his own but in this world of charlatans and floozies and hucksters, his seems a better, kinder world. His fingers are his intellect. He loves his ditty no end and to the exclusion of all critique. He is a man-child in this not so promised land and (toot-toot) one you root for. He is the heart and very much the only soul of this film and definitely the only one who stays with you as the credits roll. Great job. Rest in peace, Whit.

... and that is understandable because by this time - 1949 - Warner Baxter was pretty much in constant pain due to his arthritis. It's painful for me to watch this film not because it isn't good but because you can clearly see the man is suffering.

Thus the usually supporting players take up the slack here, with Baxter really not participating that much in the action. Here we have a man, Steve Carter, getting paroled after serving three years for an arson he says he did not commit. The advice from the warden is for Steve to stay out of trouble, but with nothing but revenge on his mind for whoever it was who framed him, Steve isn't listening. The ever loyal Jane is waiting for him at the prison gates even though Steve threw her over for the more elegant Inez. Inez is now involved with tough guy George Goldie Harrison, played by Robert Armstrong, but that doesn't mean the two don't get locked in a passionate embrace the first time they meet after Steve's release. The news of this infidelity does not amuse Goldie.

It isn't long before one of the guys on Steve's short list of people who could have framed him turns up dead. Since Dr. Ordway (Baxter) recommended Steve for parole in the first place and Steve is acting quite guilty by running from the police, will the good doctor wind up with egg on his face? Watch and find out.

Making sure the mood doesn't get too heavy is Whit Bissell as a song writer who is obsessed with recording and performing just one awful tune. Is he harmless but annoying or is he the red herring villain that has ruined Steve's life for some reason real or imagined? Again I say, watch and find out.

I was a bit surprised with this film, as in the Leonard Maltin Guide this film got a pretty poor rating and sounded like the worst film of this series. However, it was a pretty decent film and definitely NOT the worst of the series (this was CRIME DOCTOR'S GAMBLE, 1947) and was a nice final film of the series.

Doctor Ordway's wonderful psychiatric prowess is called into question, as a man he recommended for parole is the prime suspect in a revenge murder. Part of this was because the guy did act like he'd done it, but the true reason came out in a very nifty ending---where you learn who and how they set him up for the fall.

There were only two small problems with the film. The song that was sung again and again was absolutely horrid and tough on the ears. Also, the writing, except for one bad bit of dialog, was just fine. The bad dialog was as follows:

(lady speaking to man) "Goldie, you're a gentleman"

(after which, the man responds) "I wish you were"

Huh?! Did he wish SHE were a gentleman or did he want her to get a sex change or what?! While this was a very MINOR problem with the film, it did make me laugh!

One thing that makes this final entry in the Crime Doctor series better than average, aside from the interesting collection of players, is the writing, a mixture of 1940s crime dramas with a few throwbacks to 1930s comedies.

On one hand we have a spattering of old-timey cops-and-robbers lingo, with terms like "moll," "dip," "binnie", "pigeon," and "prowl car". Plus, there's the gratuitous use of firepower to pursue an obviously unarmed suspect which wouldn't be tolerated in today's televised police procedure.

On the other hand there are several laugh-out-loud zingers and one-liners that are clever in context but would make no sense if repeated here.

With a less convoluted plot than previous entries in the series, there is still a sufficient number of suspects to keep one guessing as to the perpetrator; but this tale depends less on our good doctor's crime-solving abilities than on a device introduced midway through the action at which one's immediate reaction is "evidence".