Tormento

A day or so ago I commented on the film (made only a few years after wards) that somehow resembles this one: FOOTSTEPS IN THE FOG. The basic story is of two ill-matched people who are in a marriage from hell. FOOTSTEPS was about a Victorian gentleman who murders his first wife, only to be blackmailed into marrying his socially ambitious maid, and how he starts conspiring to get rid of her as well. The problem with FOOTSTEPS was a lack of decently spirited direction. It lacked spark and pace, and gets boring. The cast tries, but it does not help enough.

Not so with DEAR MURDERER. Unlike FOOTSTEPS (which was a Hollywood product - so it had to be burdened by larger budgets, and needed vervier directing), DEAR MURDERER is typical of the success story of British cinema - how with a concentration on minimal effect their films are sharper than bloated productions like FOOTSTEPS . The plot is also more devious.

In FOOTSTEPS Jean Simmons' ambitions help destroy her and Steward Granger. But one can easily understand where she is coming from, as we tend to sympathize with people trying to pull themselves out of lower classes into upper classes. But this is dented because she is a blackmailer (though Granger's misdeed deserves such a punishment). Here, Eric Portman is married to a perpetual flirt (Greta Gynt) who despises him. She has been carrying on with Dennis Price, and Portman decides to kill Price. Yet, even in the process of doing just that, Portman gets to know his victim, and realizes that if he had not been sleeping with his wife Price could have been a good friend of his. So his guilt is increased when he discovers that Gynt and Price had broken up their relationship shortly before the murder.

See: the story is still melodramatic, but the characterization is more interesting. So is the difference regarding Gynt's personae, as opposed to her opposite number in FOOTSTEPS. Simmons is socially ambitions, but the audience can accept that. Gynt is sluttish and also unlikeable. She is tired about the marriage to Portman (who does, misguidedly, love Gynt), and eventually wonders how she can end it - quickly. The film speeds to it's conclusion. If one dislikes Portman's Nazi in 49TH PARALLEL (his best remembered performance), his performance here certainly makes up for his totally unsympathetic villainy there.

I have no problem recommending this film to the readers of these reviews. And of recommending it over FOOTSTEP IN THE FOG to them as well.

Poor Eric Portman is saddled with a habitually unfaithful wife. He decides to commit the perfect crime, and murder the nasty wife's lover (Dennis Price). Problem is, he soon finds out that little woman has yet another lover. What is our poor, DEAR MURDERER going to do now?

This is a perfect English mystery movie for those who love English mystery movies. The murderer is rather sympathetic. The crime is charmingly convoluted -- it might even give Sherlock Holmes a few rough moments. And the Scotland Yard detective is like all Scotland Yard detectives (when not co-starring with some brilliant amateur detective) -- smarter than he looks, visiting his quarry constantly with "just a few questions, sir." Those who are more used to American films might think the pace a bit slow (particularly at the beginning), though this pacing really does pay off with an unexpectedly twisty final reel.

If you don't really like old movies, this is not for you. But if you remember being happy when you found that the late show you were about to watch was going to be an English mystery, this will be perfect. Note, though, nothing really stands out about this one. It's all crisply enough acted, with a few noir trappings imported from America for the finale. But ultimately , all it is is a jolly good show, best enjoyed with a crackling fire and some mighty good sherry.

Eric Portman, Greta Gynt, Dennis Price, and Jack Warner star in "Dear Murderer," a 1947 film courtesy of Gainsborough Productions.

Portman plays Lee Warren, an Englishman who has to be away for eight months in the U. S. setting up a New York office for his firm. His wife Vivien, who has cheated on him before, promises him she is over all that and will write every day.

She keeps it up for a while and then the letters stop. Warren sees a photo of her in a Tattler magazine with one Richard Fenton (Price) and knows she's being unfaithful again.

The film actually begins with Warren dropping in on Fenton and announcing that he's going to kill him, and that it will be the perfect crime. Complications ensue, not the least of which is that dear Vivien has another boyfriend as well. Fenton decides to kill two birds with one big stone.

Really excellent suspense film with the beautiful Gynt looking incredible in some fabulous clothes, including the gown she wears when we first see her - it would cause a splash at today's Oscar ceremony. Jack Warner, who seems to be always playing a police detective, is here in his familiar role again.

A perfect Sunday afternoon movie and if you're a lover of mystery and suspense as I am, you'll enjoy this.

Dear Murderer is directed by Arthur Crabtree and collectively adapted to screenplay by Muriel Box, Sydney Box and Peter Rogers from the play by St. John Leigh Clowes. It stars Eric Portman, Greta Gynt, Dennis Price, Maxwell Reed, Jack Warner, Hazel Court and Jane Hylton. Out of Gainsborough Pictures, music is by Benjamin Frankel and cinematography by Stephen Dade.

Lee Warren (Portman), consumed by jealousy over his wife's unfaithfulness, believes he has executed the perfect murder, however, he hadn't bargained on another one of his wife's lovers entering the fray. But sensing a great opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, he executes another cunning plan…

Perhaps he's Adolf Hitler in disguise? He's about the right height.

A wonderfully twisty British thriller, Dear Murderer enjoys giving off a whiff of unpleasantness as it enthrals from the get go. Classic Brit staples are in place for this type of thriller, a vengeful man, harlot woman, intrepid copper and male suitors caught in a trap. Construction is as such, that it's initially hard to actually get on side with any of the principal characters, but one of the film's many delights is in how it constantly alters the trajectory of sympathy towards the actual murderer! It helps as well that the story doesn't rest on its laurels, this is not merely about one murder, and about one man trying to get away with that murder, it's about more than that. There's a lot of talking going on, but it's all relevant to actions that are soon to follow, so when the flip-flops arrive, we are fully prepared and immersed in the devilish goings on.

Arthur Crabtree (Madonna of the Seven Moons) is something of an unsung director from the British classic era, where often he has been termed workmanlike and steady. Yet he was able to make much suspense and atmosphere from the most basic of set-ups. He also was a good director of actors, as evidenced here with the performances he gets out of Portman (calm, calculated and cunning) and Gynt (a wonderful slinky femme fatale dressed up to the nines). While in conjunction with photographer Dade (Zulu), he puts period Gothic noir tints on proceedings, especially on the exteriors where darkness, shadows and gaslights imbues murky machinations of plot. There's a big leap of faith required to accept one critical turn of events entering the home straight, but ultimately the finale is not damaged by it, for here a black heart beats strong. Splendid. 8/10

Dear Murderer (1947)

What a fabulous, complicated, feint and double feint movie about murder, attempted and otherwise. It's a very British feeling film, and though it has a film noir darkness (very dark, in my copy), it doesn't have the angularity nor the action of an American noir. More defining, though, is the deliberate parlor game feel to this very deadly situation. You might compare (if comparing is helpful) to the Joan Crawford "Sudden Fear" to make this most obvious.

There is a lot of sparring with words here, very smartly written, and you have to pay attention as the intentions of the characters seem to be shifting all the time. You have to have the low key, steadfast, opaque, and clever detective of course, and the detective here is brilliantly all those things. And you have to have motive, which we have in abundance.

And you need abundance since so much is going to go wrong here. Eric Portman is the key figure through it all, and he plays a jilted husband with laconic brilliance. His wife, and his wife's several lovers, are all excellent in support, each either surpassingly innocent at heart despite their adulteries, or really devious and selfish. It's beautifully constructed, and really a joy. But you have to pay attention. No getting up for popcorn here.