I Love Trouble

When I saw S. Sylvan Simon's name on the credits as the filmmaker, I knew immediately this would be a different type of picture. Like Billy Wilder, SSS's comedic background puts a different perspective on the whodunit/mystery genre, let alone its extension into the dark side of film noir.

I especially enjoyed the light and breezy approach of star Franchot Tone to his role as gumshoe, so different from the classical models. Right from the beginning of the saga, his raised eyebrow (a la The Rock) and reactions to the most violent and mortal situations he finds himself in has a debonair as well as carefree attitude. In other hands it would appear to be satire (like a Steve Martin "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid" genre revision), but instead we're carried along with endless clues, switcheroos and blind alleys on almost a romp rather than a thriller.

Just the plethora of leading ladies in major roles is quite different from the norm and all of them add greatly to the narrative. Keeping all the twists and turns straight is quite a challenge, but the final confrontation scene of bringing all the pieces and dangling threads together is a marvel of prestidigitation. For me, it made the cleverness of "Knives Out" seem like child's play.

Ok film noir that has a plot similar to that of dozens of other noir and B detective pictures: private eye is hired to find a dame and twists ensue. There's nothing inherently wrong with this movie. It's actually pretty solid. But it's very familiar territory and the script isn't as snappy as I would like. Franchot Tone is also a bit flat. I doubt it would be a blip on anyone's radar if not for it apparently being considered lost for decades. Amusingly this was written by Roy Huggins, the creator of TV shows like Maverick and The Fugitive. He would use the character played by Tone to greater success later in 77 Sunset Strip.

Don't be put off by the frisky title: I Love Trouble isn't one of those dismal crime-cum-comedy hybrids so inexplicably popular in the '40s (true, a bantering element tries to creep in from time to time but it's held mercifully at bay; one routine, however, starring a hash-slinger named Miss Phipps, deserves to be bronzed).

It's a pretty hard-boiled private-eye yarn, very much in the Raymond Chandler tradition - maybe a bit too much. More specifically, I Love Trouble follows the footsteps tramped out by Murder, My Sweet and The Lady in the Lake, and follows them doggedly. And its subsidiary roles are filled with actors who make up a Who's Who of film noir: Janice Carter, Adele Jergens, John Ireland, Raymond Burr (barely visible, alas), Tom Powers, Eduardo Ciannelli, Steven Geray, Sid Tomack. Parts even smaller (it's a big cast) are filled to the brim with apt characterization.

The principal role of the gumshoe, however, goes to Franchot Tone, who plays it very much in the Powell-and-Mongomery-as-Marlowe style. He's hired by a tough businessman (Powers) to keep tabs on his elusive wife (Lynn Merrick). Tone traces the obligatory route from low dives to high places in his quest, from back alleys in Portland and fish dumps near the oil derricks of Santa Monica (Chandler's corrupt `Bay City') to gated mansions where swimming pools sparkle amid manicured lawns. All Tone knows is that, back in '46 (or was it '41?), Merrick came down from Oregon, where he learns that she was a bubble dancer in a mobbed-up nightclub, who absconded to Southern California with a cheesy comic (Tomack).

Or did she? When another woman claiming to be Merrick's sister (Janet Blair) fails to recognize her picture, Tone finds himself with a lot of pieces none of which seem to fit together. And the heavies from up north are joined by powerful folks in Los Angeles who firmly discourage him from looking any further (when he's not being eyed fetchingly by expensive wives and mistresses, he's conked on the head or drugged up at every turn). Getting warmer, he tries to coax more information from Tomack, only to find the funny fishmonger dead and himself a suspect. But when Merrick's body washes up under a pier, her death opens more questions than it answers....

The director, S. Sylvan Simon, shows considerable promise which was not to be redeemed (he died, at age 41, three years after making this movie). But most of the credit, however derivative, should probably accrue to its writer, and author of the novel on which it's based, Roy Huggins; he also penned Too Late For Tears, Woman in Hiding and Pushover, and, moving to television, would create 77 Sunset Strip, The Fugitive, and The Rockford Files. It goes to show how cracking the books at the school of Raymond Chandler can pay off in the future. So what if I Love Trouble is knockoff Chandler, a cocktail shaken up from two films made from his novels? Chandler neat is a potent shot - even watered down it holds its deep, smoky flavor.

I could not figure out who was who in this impossibly complex story. Until the very end I thought the various babes were all the same person. I have no idea who did what to whom, who was married to whom, who died, who was good, who was bad, nothing, a total mystery. Still it was pretty enjoyable.

A detective is hired to investigate the real identity of client's wife, leading him into a tangled thicket of leads.

So where is Janie Joy. Detective Bailey's having a heckuva time finding out, what with all those luscious ladies parading in and out—not that I'm complaining. But the sorting process does get difficult at times. This is a detective story, and not classic noir, more like Philo Vance than Phillip Marlowe. LA-area locations are emphasized rather than light and shadow. But it is a good look at post-war LA, including the photogenic Buster Buffin's Buffett.

As the detective, the slender Tone brings a different kind of appeal. Wisely, the screenplay emphasizes his verbal skills rather than tough-guy brawn. In fact, he almost gets shoved around enough to embarrass fall-guy Elisha Cook Jr. Still, Tone does have a ready smile and easy charm. But that's also a problem for the movie. In short, characters and events lack the kind of grit needed to generate needed menace. Sure, there is a guessing game as to where Janie Joy is, but it's more like a brain-teaser than a fear factor. Plus, screenwriter Huggins clearly knows his way around wisecracks and clever banter. Yet the story's architecture remains murky and plodding. All in all, this is a movie of individual scenes rather than memorable whole.

Nonetheless, it's a good chance to ogle the ladies and their 40's fashions, along with Detroit's four-wheel designs, post-war, that is.