The Widow from Chicago

Alice White stars in this 1930 crime drama that also boasts an early starring role for Edward G. Robinson. He plays a nightclub owner and bootlegger; she plays the widow. She shows up in his club looking for work and claiming to be the widow of a gangster (Neil Hamilton) who was killed when he jumped off a train in an attempt to escape the cops. In reality she's the sister of the cop who was tracking Hamilton. Now she's out to track down her brother's killer.

Smart dialog and solid story here with White in a slightly different role. Although she masquerades as a floozie she's really a pretty smart cookie as she leads to police to her brother's killer. Although the setting is a nightclub, White does not do a musical number (perhaps cut from the final print?) as she usually does in her talkies.

Although White was not an actress in the way Bette Davis or Joan Crawford were, she's got a great screen presence and holds her own here in scenes with the great Robinson. Hamilton is also solid as the undead gangster who returns to cause problems for White.

Co-stars include Frank McHugh, Harold Goodwin (as the brother), Betty Francisco, Brooks Benedict, and Anne Cornwall and Dorothy Mathews as the dance hall babes.

Worth a look.

A gangster film that's certainly not top-tier, but entertaining nonetheless, with a lively plot, the inimitable Edward G. Robinson, and a strong female character played by Alice White. While I loved seeing White on the screen though, unfortunately her acting was weak and not completely up to the role. It would have been interesting to see the complete film before the musical numbers were all cut, as it's kind of hard to imagine what that must have been like. As it is though, not bad if you like Robinson or White.

And I'll support that conclusion. However, I must preface my commentary by acceding to a predilection for Alice White's performances. I adore her no-apologies-for-pert, straight-ahead style that was the antithesis of 'real' actors who rolled their R's and eyes at every opportunity.

We are introduced to Polly (Alice White) and Jimmy (Harold Goodwin) as new tenants by the neighbors' gossiping. Are they married? The question remains unanswered until just before Jimmy, the precinct's newbie detective, leaves for work. The clever script puts a smile on your face just as Jimmy waves at his sister, Polly from the street, and becomes a drive-by shooting victim.

The scripts' powerful counterpoints and wit are enhanced by director Edward Cline's smart pacing and Sol Polito's brilliant photography. The avenging Polly, masquerades to mob boss Dominic (Edward G. Robinson) as the widow of a dead associate of the gang. But she becomes trapped in his office when the 'widow's husband returns from the dead. When Dominic goes out to meet him, we are left with a great insert of the edge of the office door. Slightly ajar, we watch it in anticipation while Dominic meets Polly's 'dead' husband. Will she make a break for it? Will Swifty confront her? Your mind races as the camera holds on that door. It's bravura filmmaking, and Cline keeps it coming. By the way, Polly embraces her 'husband' whispering "go along, I'm on the spot". The excitement's just beginning, Swifty is only too happy to go home with his 'wife'.

Neil Hamilton handles his role as Swifty Dorgan with effective menace, and Polly goes from being on the spot in Dominic's office to being in a spot behind her own (now locked) door. Frank McHugh's got a fine bit as one of Dominic's hentchmen 'Slug', and advises his fellow thug, Mullins, to give up the girl he can't get along with. Slug's smugness melts, however, when Mullins returns the girl's key only to discover the key is to Slug's girlfriend's apartment.

Earl Baldwin's script has plenty of sparks left, and Polito takes the shootout in the dark to a new level when a spotlight is introduced: not only being shot at, but everything its prowling eye touches gets killed. You'll wonder why Little Caesar is famous after seeing this terrific gangster film.

"The Widow From Chicago" (1930), stars Alice White as Polly and Neil Hamilton (Commissioner Gordon in the "Batman" series). It was originally filmed as a musical, but the public pre-"42nd Street" was tiring of musicals, so all of the numbers were cut. The script is uninteresting, and Dominic is taken down by a really stupid ploy; I won't spoil it. Its main interest is that it is a precursor to the classic gangster films soon to come.

Polly's brother impersonates gangster Swifty Dorgan and gets killed for his trouble. To get revenge on the gangster, Edward G. Robinson as Dominic, pre-"Little Caesar"who ordered the hit, Alice poses as the widow Dorgan to get in good with Robinson and eventually turn him over to the police. But then the real Swifty shows up! For some reason he agrees to continue the pose!

The best part by far is the climax, well staged and well shot by director Eddie Cline. Robinson acts everyone off the screen, even in such a rote part. Hamilton is okay. But Alice White? She is awful. And I mean awful. This vehicle was supposed to make her a star but her career went down the tubes. The New York Times praised Robinson and panned White.

Ruthless gangster Dominic (Edward G. Robinson) bumps off a young detective impersonating Swifty Dorgan. The detective's sister (Alice White) sets out to get revenge. She passes herself off as Swifty's wife in order to infiltrate the gang. But then the real Swifty (Neil Hamilton) shows up.

Pre-Little Caesar gangster movie for Robinson, his first at Warner Bros. Also very early role for Frank McHugh, who already seems to be perfecting his screen persona. Alice White is pretty bad. She says every line the same way, regardless of what emotion she's supposed to be displaying. It's an early talkie so there's the expected amount of creakiness. Watchable, particularly for Robinson fans, but nothing special. Believe it or not, this was originally a musical!