Nocturne

Nocturne is certainly not in the 1st rank of 40's film noir movies but nevertheless has a few things going for it.....the photography, some funny lines ("one more crack like that and I'll wrap the piano around your neck"), and for me, Lynn Bari. I always thought she was ( like Hillary Brooke, Lenore Aubert, Brenda Joyce, and a few others of the 40's) an underrated, very beautiful and sophisticated actress ( of a type that no longer exists in films). Of course no-one is going to confuse George Raft with Lawrence Olivier but the rest of the cast, particularly Joe Pevney (also good in "Body and Soul") does a professional job.and makes the film worthwhile.

There are some nice touches in this noir if you can get past Raft's non-acting. For a cop obsessed by a murder, he really needs more than one frozen expression. It doesn't help that the script sticks this 50-year old man with a 60-year old mother (Paige), even if she can wisecrack with the best of them. She's a hoot, but he still looks more like a brother than a son.

That opening sequence, however, is masterful and a testament to RKO's artistic team. A night-time camera swoops down from high above the Hollywood hills into a swank, ultra- modern glass house where a handsomely attired man noodles on a piano while a mystery woman sits in the shadows-- and the plot sets up from there. It's done in a single take and is quite riveting.

So who did kill the noodler (Ashley). Maybe it was his bad piano playing. More likely it's one of a hundred women who've visited that swank bachelor pad. Anyway, detective Warne (Raft), after viewing the glamour photos on the wall, is obsessed with finding out. His sleuthing takes us on a entertaining tour of LA area hotspots, circa 1946, including a ship that never sails. The attraction really isn't in the whodunit, which proves difficult, anyway. It's in the characters and the settings and some nice touches. There's the brassy blonde "housekeeper" (Dell) who assures us she sleeps alone, the fashion photographer who can't stand his model, the hulking gorilla (Hoffman) who KO's Warne amusingly off-camera. Most of all, there's Mom who may make you rethink nice old ladies. Then too, I like Joe Pevney as the moody, laconic "Fingers"; his smokey joe seems just right.

All in all, it's an interesting, if uneven, movie with some good dialogue, but with a wrap-up that sounds like it was thrown together on the way to the studio.

A spectacular aerial nightscape of Los Angeles opens Nocturne, finally gliding down over a cliffside house and zooming right into the living room. There, a playboy songwriter sits at the piano while giving the brush-off to the latest in his string of lady friends. (She's veiled in black, but get a load of her instep.) A shot rings out....

Nocturne has a great, hard look; coupled with a nice feel for its milieu (piano bars, courtyard apartments, photography and movie studios), it adds up to one of the more vivid L.A. movies, especially when the dry winds rattle the leaves and stir up the rubbish. If in the end Nocturne doesn't quite redeem its promise, it's not for want of trying.

Part of its problem lies in its star, George Raft, as the police detective assigned the case. A 40ish bachelor who lives with Mom (scene-stealing Mabel Paige), he has a sharp eye for willing women, including his suspects. No one ever mistook Raft for a great actor, but sometimes he fits, sometimes he doesn't. Here he's so-so, a smart-mouthed Dapper Dan who leaks not a clue as to why he's always in hot water for insubordination and excessive force (it would have been a terrific Dick Powell part).

Raft's sleuthing takes him through the dead man's stable of exes (all of whom, for reasons that stay unexplained, he used to call `Dolores'). Among them Raft meets up with a sister act: hard-boiled brunette Lynn Bari and sweet blonde Virginia Huston, who sings in a night spot where Joseph Pevney (later to direct Shakedown, Meet Danny Wilson and Female On The Beach) entertains from a rolling piano, muscled from table to table by big, dumb Bernard Hoffman. But Raft keeps following false leads and encountering dead ends....

One of the chief pleasures of film noir must also be counted among its drawbacks: all too often, there's a lot more style than sense. With Nocturne, that's hard to overlook, so it falls just short of being a classic installment in the noir cycle.

From the initial scene chronicling the murder central to the plot of Nocturne as seen from the killer's vantage point, this movie has much to sustain the viewer's interest. Whenever a stock line or situation makes you feel this is a typical hardboiled cop flick, another plot twist or cinemotographic trick changes your mind. Portions of the movie shot after hours in a deserted photographic studio remind the viewer of Harrison's Hitchcockian associations with palpable suspense. George Raft shows surprising likeability as the lead, and Lynn Bari lends sparky support as one of the ranks of the victim's past conquests-or was she?-who just might hold a clue to the identity of the deadly Dolores. If you have a chance to see this film, grab it-although it was a successful and high grossing film at the time of its release in 1946, it is extremely difficult to rent, view, or purchase today. And the music, so evocative of the forties' nightclub allure, is great.

Nocturne is directed by Edwin L. Marin and adapted to screenplay by Jonathan Latimer from a story written by Roland Brown and Frank Fenton. It stars George Raft, Lynn Bari, Virginia Huston, Joseph Pevney, Myrna Dell and Edward Ashley. Music is by Leigh Harline and cinematography by Harry J. Wild.

When Hollywood composer Keith Vincent (Ashley) is found dead in his swanky abode, the police feel it is a clear case of suicide. But there is one exception, Joe Warne (Raft), who feels it just doesn't add up. When it becomes apparent that any number of lady friends of the composer could have killed him, Joe drives himself onwards in pursuit of the truth.

Comfort food noir. Nocturne is a Los Angeles based detective story that doffs its cap towards Otto Preminger's far superior "Laura". Raft is in suitably understated hard-bitten mode as Joe Warne risks more than just the wrath of his bosses when he becomes obsessed with finding a woman called Dolores. He is convinced she has committed a murder and the gap on the wall where a row of ladies photographs hang only fuels his obsession still further.

As director Marin ("Johnny Angel") balances the opposing lifestyles of the principal players, taking us for a trip through the varying haunts of Los Angeles, the dialogue is pungent enough to overcome the failings of the script. A script evidently tampered with by Raft and leading to a rushed and not entirely satisfying finale. But as a mystery it works well enough as the acid tongued dames are dangled in the narrative to keep the viewer as interested as our intrepid detective is.

Marin does a grand job of mixing suspense with action, even opening the picture with a doozy of a plot set-up that is born out by some lovely fluid camera work, and while Wild's ("Murder, My Sweet") photography and Harline's music barely break the boundaries of mood accentuation, the tech credits are admirably unfurled to ensure the picture remains in credit. It helps that the support cast is a roll call of strong "B" movie players, and Raft fans get good value from an actor who was desperately trying to get away from the thuggish characters he was by then becoming known for. 7/10