Beware, My Lovely

Ida Lupino is trapped in her own home by crazy Robert Ryan in "Beware, My Lovely," a 1952 film from RKO. Lupino and Ryan did three films together and worked well as a team, both being consummate professionals and strong performers.

In this film, based on a Broadway play called "The Man," Lupino is a World War I widow who rents out a room in her home. She's very active and well-liked in her community and though her husband has been dead for two years, she's not ready to move on. The man who rents her room goes on vacation, and Lupino hires Robert Ryan to help her with some heavy-duty cleaning in the house.

He's friendly enough to start, but later terrorizes her, locking her in the house, and not allowing her to answer the phone or the door, as he grows violent and more out of touch with reality.

The character played by Ryan is shown in the beginning of the movie running away when he discovers a dead body in another house he's working in. It isn't clear whether or not he's the killer, since he seems surprised to see the body.

He might be a split personality, as when his personality turns ugly toward Lupino, he seems to have no memory of his activities when he comes out of it. He doesn't know that he has the keys to Lupino's house in his pocket and doesn't know why he has tickets to a party that he bought from young children who came to the door.

"Beware, My Lovely," is a very suspenseful film, and the two leads give terrific performances. The tension builds to a very high level and ends in a way you're not expecting.

Beware My Lovely originated from a play written by Mel Dinelli who apparently liked writing about frightened women. His first and best effort was the screenplay for The Spiral Staircase. He also did a Loretta Young suspense thriller Cause For Alarm a couple of years earlier. The play Dinelli wrote was originally entitled The Man and it ran for 92 performances on Broadway during the 1950 season. It was Dinelli's only effort on Broadway and it starred Dorothy Gish and Richard Boone.

The roles that Gish and Boone played are taken by Ida Lupino and Robert Ryan. For whatever reason RKO thought to eliminate the age difference. Dinelli himself rewrote his play for the screen so I'm wondering what he thought about that. Certainly the frailty issue was eliminated completely from the story.

That wasn't the only thing that was eliminated. The people are all wearing period clothing from around World War I yet there's no reference at all to the time this story takes place in. I thought that strange and later on when the telephone company repairman comes to Ida Lupino's residence, I noticed his truck was a vintage one of the same era.

The film is almost entirely set within Ida Lupino's home where she's hired an itinerant stranger in Robert Ryan as a handyman. The film is a great object lesson in not hiring strangers without reference. It turns out that Ryan is a schizophrenic who imprisons Lupino in her home for about a day.

Both the leads do fine jobs even with the changes made. Films like Beware My Lovely are the stuff that a small studio like RKO did best. If this were done at MGM or Paramount the glossy trappings would have overwhelmed a solid story.

We are in a small town, a homely widow (Ida Lupino) hires a handyman (Robert Ryan) to look after her house. She soon starts to regret it as Ryan grows erratic by the hour, it appears that she is host to a dangerous schizophrenic, and now she is unable to escape her house.

Beware, My Lovely is adapted from Mel Dinelli's (The Spiral Staircase) story and play called "The Man". Pretty much a one set movie and a two character driven piece, the film boasts two great central performances and offers up an interesting take on mental illness. One however shouldn't be fooled into thinking this is a violent and nerve shredding picture, because it isn't. It's clear from the get go that Ryan's Howard Wilton is a dangerously troubled man, but this is a different sort of "peril" movie, one that throws up another slant on psychosis and thus making it difficult to hate our dangerous protagonist.

Ryan and Lupino are a great combination, they had also done the excellent, and far better, On Dangerous Ground this same year. So with both actors clearly comfortable together, it brings out a finely tuned character story all based in the confines of one house or prison as it were. Ryan is particularly strong as his character flits in and out of madness, with some scenes powerful and at times inducing fear, while at others garnering deep sympathy. The direction from Harry Horner is safe (he in truth doesn't have to do much other than let his actors run with it) and George E. Diskant's cinematography contains some smart and impacting visual touches -with one involving Christmas tree baubles immensely memorable.

Falling some where in between being average and great, picture has enough about it to make it a recommendation to fans of borderline and easy to follow film noir. For fans of Robert Ryan, though, it's something of an essential viewing, oh yes, and then some. 7/10

Mel Dinelli , whose contributions to the movies include the intelligent scripts to the minor classics "The Window " and "The Spiral Staircase" wrote a play called "The Man " which ran on Broadway and provided the source material for this entertaining minor thriller . Ida Lupino plays a widow in small town middle America ,shortly after World War one ,who gives a job as house cleaner to a vagrant ,played by Robert Ryan ,unaware that he is a psychopath ,with a tendency to memory lapses ,and a history of killing his former employers as well as having a major persecution complex. It is not too long before she is being held prisoner in her own home and in mortal fear of her life .

Crisp direction from Harry Horner and two coiled spring performances by the estimable leads keep interest and tension high . Only a strident and conventional score ,replete with skittish strings and discordant brass ,plus a somewhat rushed ending mitigate against a higher rating.

Gripping and enjoyable all the same with both stars confirming how undervalued they still are.

The movie with its single set, minimal cast, and straightforward photography (except for a couple of brief special effects) reminds me of one of those old 60 minute playhouse dramas so popular during TV's early years. Nonetheless, the suspense hangs heavy over poor war widow Ida Lupino as she tries to deal with her semi-psychotic handyman Robert Ryan before one of his mood-swings kills her. And who better to play the troubled part than that great actor Ryan. He wasn't very versatile-- watching him essay comedy is almost painful. But no one was better at wounded idealism (On Dangerous Ground) or the psychic pain of this movie. Few actors could express as much with their eyes as this lean and towering figure.

Lupino's problem is that she's locked up in her house with a man who is kind and gentle one moment and raging the next. The suspense comes from her various ploys to keep him happy while trying to escape. It's a nail-biter all the way. This is not one of Lupino's many fine "soulful" parts that she was so good at. Instead, it's a role many lesser actresses could have handled well enough. My favorite scene is with Ryan and bratty teenager Margaret Whiting. Ryan's already having difficulty with his masculinity and what others are saying about him. Then when Whiting walks in and finds the attractive-looking Ryan scrubbing the floor, she starts getting coy, flirting with her budding sexuality. Sensing trouble, Ryan abruptly fends her off-- finesse is not his strong suit. Insulted, Whiting attacks his masculinity by calling his work "women's work". That does it. Up to that point he's been courteous and professional with Lupino, trying to set himself on a normal path. But Whiting has hit his raw nerve. Now there's heck to pay as Whiting bounces out the door, leaving Lupino to pay the price. It's a riveting scene, expertly done.

Anyway, this is one of the dozen or so films produced by Lupino and her husband at a time when audiences were moving away from these little black-and-whites in favor of wide-screen spectacles. Too bad. What a hugely talented figure she was both behind the camera and in front. She deserves at least an honorary Oscar from a movie industry to which she contributed so much.