A Sentença

Ann Sheridan is a nightclub singer who gets involved with a straitlaced, married doctor in "Nora Prentiss" - and the consequences are interesting indeed. The doctor is played by Kent Smith, well-remembered by yours truly as the husband of Simone Simon in "Cat People." Though he never reached big movie stardom, Smith enjoyed a 40+ year career in film, on radio, and TV. In this, he's regimented and by the book, partly helped by his equally disciplined wife, played by another favorite of mine, Rosemary DeCamp, a wonderful actress. One night, Prentiss ends up in his office with a mild injury, and from then on, the good doctor can't imagine life without her and what he's been missing. Conflicted about asking his wife for a divorce, one day, an opportunity drops into his office, and nothing is the same again.

This is an intriguing film, but it takes a little bit too long to get to the point. The ending by '40s standards took me by surprise. Though Sheridan is nothing like Kay Francis, they both are women associated with a certain era - you can't think of Francis without thinking of her in those flowing '30s gowns and outfits - and you can't think of Sheridan without tailored suits and shoulder pads. They went along well with her earthy quality and low speaking voice. The overall effect was of someone who had been around the block but still had her dignity and self-respect. Photographed by James Wong Howe in this film, she looks marvelous. Though IMDb doesn't state if she did her own singing in "Nora Prentiss," if she didn't, the voice matched her speaking voice perfectly and sounded great.

Kent Smith is very good as the pent-up, frustrated doctor. One criticism would be that most of the time, doctors look at bodies clinically and aren't usually embarrassed by the site of a woman's knee, as Smith is in one of the opening scenes. However, he's very effective, as are Robert Alda and the always reliable Bruce Bennett in smaller roles.

This film apparently did a lot for Sheridan's career, which is understandable. Very good movie.

Awfully frank thriller about a chance meeting between a doctor working late one night and a singer who gets a bad scrape in a minor accident hooking up into a extra-marital(for the doctor) relationship that heads South in a hurry. Kent Smith, the male lead from Cat People and Curse of the Cat People, plays Dr. Talbot rather nicely I thought. He portrays a man who has worked hard his whole life and sacrificed his "life" for his job and family. Ann Sheridan plays the genuinely nice singer who appeals to the doctor not only because of her beauty but her ability to see him for who and what he is. She does a phenomenal job in what really is a complex role. The rest of the cast is pretty decent. Bruce Bennett may come off miscast as a doctor, but Robert Alda as a night club owner and Rosemary DeCamp as Talbot's wife both excel. While not really a mystery - or a very ingenious one as we know what is going on early on, this picture really depicts what at once seems quite harmless and its transformation into something very harmful. Director Vincent Sherman is more than adequate behind the camera. Some might say this really isn't film noir - I can see some of their points - but this is noir all the way for me: the suggestive black and white cinematography, the voice-over narrator, the man being changed by the "dame," and the ending that is bittersweet. The biggest problem with Nora Prentiss is the title. Ann Sheridan was the box office grab - and this grabbed a lot of tickets - but she is not the star of the movie nor is her character the central character. Kent Smith is the star and a more appropriate title should have been selected. Hmmm...maybe, "The Cheating Surgeon" or "The Doomed Affair." Definitely needs more thought!

A shy family man (Kent Smith) meets a sultry but classy nightclub singer (Ann Sheridan), and despite the man's lovely wife (Rosemary DeCamp) and two sweet kids, he soon begins having an affair. It's a pretty standard set up, but the strength of the film is in its first hour, where we see the tension between family and lover, get shots on location in San Francisco from James Wong Howe, and enjoy strong performances from the cast.

Sheridan especially is delightful, with the perfect mix of flirtation and principles, romance and world-weariness. At one point she tells the doctor that "I may not have been handled with care, but I'm not shopworn," meaning she's been around and had lovers, but she's not easy. Seeing her perform her first number in a flouncy little sheer top, and warbling lines like "As long as he desires his arms about me, who cares what people say?" between a few tears in her second is wonderful; I love her voice. Her hats are pretty wild too, especially late in the film.

The film has a softness to it for a noir, but that's something I kind of liked, and there's certainly darkness in just how quickly the family man begins forgetting his own kids. There's another man involved (Robert Alda, Alan's father), which adds an interesting wrinkle. Unfortunately, however, the film scuttles itself with a ludicrous ending. The final 15 minutes defy belief and the film tries to put a happy face on them besides, both of which were mistakes, which dropped my rating a bit. It's still enjoyable though, and if for nothing else, watch it for Ann Sheridan.

The rap on Kent Smith was that he was duller than dried cement. Probably that's why he was cast here as the emotionally repressed doctor. The doc is so colorless and unemotional in the early scenes, we see why wife Lucy (DeCamp) has withdrawn into her own bubble. Then too, his household appears to run on the proverbial dime, with only daughter Bunny (Hendrix) showing any real spark. Of course, all of this is necessary background to his eventual transformation once he meets sexpot Prentiss (Sheridan). From dutiful husband to reluctant philanderer to obsessed lover and finally to repentant criminal, Smith brings off the stages in low-key effective fashion, and I expect more than a few married spouses left the theater unsettled by what they had seen lurking under the doctor's calm exterior.

All in all, it's a grim little film, depicting a civilized man's descent into emotional darkness. I'm not sure why it's titled after Prentiss since the doctor is for all intents and purposes the main character. But Sheridan does get to show a lot of leg and mature appeal, although her character seems not very plausible once the doc becomes a burden. Someone called the movie a "woman's noir", and with its soap-operish overtones, the description seems to fit. Then too, noirish elements surface in those dark entrapment scenes, especially in the hotel room, (but why do they have separate rooms after they've run away together?). And especially noirish is heart patient Walter's existential lament amidst the big city-- if he dies, he wonders, who would know or care. The scene passes quickly, but is chillingly revealing.

The movie's underrated, probably because of Smith and the unrelentingly grim atmosphere. I just wish someone had scrubbed Alda's smarmy nightclub owner. He's totally unbelievable and compromises what could have been a memorably atmospheric very last shot. Nonetheless, it's an engrossing little morality tale, as long as you're not feeling too depressed.

Dr. Richard Talbot's teenage daughter runs to the kitchen window one morning and joyfully declares "It's Spring. Something's stirring." Later, when the good doctor is applying a bandage to the injured knee of a shapely chanteuse named Nora Prentiss, we are left in little doubt as to what that 'something' is!

This film is yet another variant on the theme of 'amour fou' which is capable of raising one to the heights and dragging one to the depths. As this tragic but highly implausible tale unfolds, credibilty is stretched to the utmost but Vincent Sherman somehow succeeds in covering most of the plotholes. Mr. Sherman is an extremely capable director and he is fortunate here to have Anton Grot's production design, the evocative cinematography of James Wong Howe and Franz Waxman's dramatic score.

It is customary to dismiss actor Kent Smith as being rather bland but he surprised me in this and engages our sympathy as the hapless doctor whose slow descent into the abyss is painful to behold. Suffice to say this is essentially a vehicle for Ann Sheridan whose role was expanded by order of Jack Warner. What can one say of Miss Sheridan? She combined oodles of 'oomph' with what one critic has described as 'no nonsense pragmatism.' She left us far too early but is still here thanks to the magic of film.