Un grito ahogado

What makes this little crime movie as effective as it is, has something to do with the casting of unconventional Dan Duryea in the lead as the unscrupulous reporter. He's a lot like Willem Dafoe with the way he talks out of the bottom of his mouth - like a ventriloquist's dummy - and I mean that in a good way. Had they cast a more conventional leading man in the part like a Jimmy Stewart, for example, I don't think it would've worked as well, because Duryea really does come across as quite a heel, a low-life. It just isn't clear to the viewer if he should root for him or not, so that when he does undergo a change in character, it comes as a surprise rather than a foregone conclusion.

The movie also provides Howard Da Silva with one of his last roles before he was to be blacklisted for over 10 years. Always good at playing thugs, he's quite colorful and does a lot of scenery chewing as a powerful crime figure.

The script is intelligent and gritty, and the photography is appropriately stark and oppressive.

Duryea's Mike Reese has all the scruples of a pinball with about that many scheming twists and turns. It's perfect casting for that unusual performer. Fired from a city newspaper, reporter Reese uses mob money to buy into a sleepy suburban paper, where he exploits a sensational murder for private gain.

For its time, the movie's about as cynical as they come. Still, this crime drama's a genuine sleeper with few punches pulled until the Code enforced ending that unfortunately isn't very convincing. What the story does show in fairly unsparing style is how corruption can reach into a town's highest levels. The narrative is pretty plot heavy so you may need the proverbial scorecard. But it's an intelligent screenplay, providing plausible motivation for the various misdeeds.

I suspect the movie's title comes from the role the underworld plays in doing the dirty work for more respectable members of society, and then exploiting the connection for nefarious purposes (Stanton & Durham). It's the connection between the two worlds that appears to be the main theme. DeSilva plays the mob boss in unusually jovial fashion (perhaps too much), along with occasional hints of snarling menace.

I wouldn't expect a cheerleader type like Gale Storm to be in a crime movie, but she does a believable job as the struggling suburban publisher, put into a fix by her recently deceased dad. I kept expecting something to develop between her and the high-powered Reese, but this is not a movie of clichés.

As I recall, the film was taken to task for casting a white woman (Anderson) in the important role of the "Negro" maid Molly. Now, there's a question of why the maid would be made a Black woman in the first place since her race is not a factor in plot development. And second, why cast an obvious white woman in the part, which only invites unneeded curiosity. I'm not sure what the answers are, but leftist writer Blankfort and director Endfield may have wanted to make a racial statement that didn't make it to the screen. But whatever the reason, the casting remains a false note in an otherwise thoughtful screenplay.

Several notable social themes do emerge. Note how easily a well-meaning public is fleeced by Reese and the shyster lawyer, after offering up their hard earned money to the defense committee. Then there's the town's wealthy establishment that can ruin anyone who crosses them, including Reese and his newspaper. Or the yellow journalism that will print whatever promises to make money. Just as importantly, these key topics play out in fairly subtle, non-preaching fashion.

Director Endfield shows here, as in his powerful Sound of Fury, aka Try and Get Me (1950), that given the chance away from his Joe Palooka programmers, he could do social conscience films with the best of them. Note the many careful touches in this film—the shabby people lined up to donate to the defense committee, the defining bust of Napoleon discretely behind editor Lee's (Dunne) desk, Lee slyly opening the door behind Reese despite what he's saying. Too bad Endfield finished his career in England after falling victim to the blacklist.

All in all, the movie's not as powerful as Sound of Fury, but it does avoid clichés and remains consistently engaging and unpredictable. Endfield appears fascinated in both films with yellow journalism and how it's used to exploit society, a worthy topic for any period. Editor Reese is nothing if not entrepreneurial in his schemes, with the money-making ideas spitting out as fast as a machine gun. It's an impressive lead performance by the great Duryea. Anyway, except for the occasionally cheap sets and unconvincing climax, this obscure indie production remains a genuine sleeper.

Dan Duryea stars as Mike Reese, a big-city newspaperman who is black-balled out of town after publishing a story that helps a mobster rub out an informant. Reese settles in the nearby small town of Lakewood, where he buys a half interest in a newspaper owned by Cathy Harris (Gale Storm). Just as soon as he does, the biggest story to hit Lakewood in decades breaks: the daughter-in-law of E. J. Stanton (Herbert Marshall), the town's wealthiest resident, is found murdered. Reese's experience at bigger papers helps the little operation get the scoop on the out-of-town outfits, but it places Reese and Cathy in the cross-hairs of powers more dangerous than they realize.

A mash-up of newspaper drama, small-town expose, and gangster picture, some of this works, but not a lot. The Reese character is neither helped or hindered by the casting of Duryea: if it was the filmmakers' intention to keep the audience guessing whether or not he was a slime ball at heart or was decent beneath the surface, then Duryea is a good pick, as I still wasn't sure by the end how much of a creep he really was. I say all of this as somebody who is an overall big fan of Dan Duryea. Marshall was awful, turning in an amateur-level performance during his big emotional scenes, although he was never exactly great at that kind of thing. Gale Storm didn't make much of an impression, either. Howard DaSilva has a couple of good scenes as the chief gang boss. This was the final film appearance for Edward Van Sloan, who had been a mainstay in Universal's horror films of the 1930's.

Deceptively titled, The Underworld Story boasts only tenuous connections to organized crime. It's a newspaper story that centers around a high-profile murder with racial overtones. But its crusading tone and topical allusions never grow strident and don't overwhelm some adroit plotting and incisive character study.

Big-city reporter Dan Duryea finds himself in a jam that makes him persona non grata to his newspaper, the district attorney's office and underworld boss Howard Da Silva. Broke and blacklisted, he buys himself a partial stake in a struggling community paper, The Lakewood Gazette, owned by Gale Storm, who's put off by his brash ways and temporizing ethics. But a headline story breaks right there in the idyllic New England town: The daughter-in-law of press baron Herbert Marshall has been murdered, and Duryea seizes the chance to run with the scoop.

It's not a whodunit, though; the killer, it's clear from the outset, is Marshall's snivelling son (Gar Moore, who sounds like HAL the computer). But when the murdered woman's black maid (Mary Anderson) goes missing, Marshall sees opportunity to whip up public sentiment against her. Storm, who knew the maid, trusts in her innocence; Duryea, on the other hand, waits to see which outcome might profit him most. When The Gazette starts a defense fund for Anderson, Marshall and his son start running scared and seek a favor from Da Silva to put a stop to the tenacious Duryea, who's been won over by Storm....

The Underworld Story's a modest movie that's well put together (it looks great, too, photographed by Stanley Cortez, who also shot The Magnificent Ambersons and Night of the Hunter). But it belongs to Duryea, who could play affable but slithery better than anybody, and his twists and turns keep us guessing.

Reminiscent of ‘30s socially-conscious cinema more than film noir, The Underworld Story also shows that decade's story-telling verve. It's been purged of preaching, so when one character remarks `Looks like they're burning witches again,' we suddenly recall that its release came in the midst of the Hollywood anti-Communist witch hunt, and that at least two of its principals – director Cy Endfield and Da Silva – were among its victims.

The more I watch classic films, the more I discover what a great year 1950 was in the movie business. Here's another good film, and one many people are probably unfamiliar with. This one revolves around the newspaper business.

Dan Duryea, as usual, is interesting as "Mike Reese," a bad guy-turned-good guy journalist. He is joined in the cast by Herbert Marshall, Gale Storm (one of the great names in show business and who will forever be "My Little Margie" to those of us who were around in the '50s), Howard Da Silva and Michael O'Shea.

Of the above-mentioned, Da Silva was the most fascinating, as the brutal mob boss "Carl Durham." He only had a minor role, but some of his lines were outstanding and his role was memorable. Da Silva was a great actor for film noirs. This isn't really a noir, but it's close. Marshall was just fine as the newspaper owner.

The film was not kind to the newspaper business, so some media-minded film critics (who probably had columns in daily papers) didn't like this film for that reason. Too bad. They should have liked it, since it had Left Wing written all over it, with several Liberal themes and favorite catch-phrases such as "witch hunts" (one of their all-time favorites).

Nonetheless, it's a powerful film and well-acted.