I'll Sell My Life

The IMDb synopsis for this work, contributed by the redoubtable Les Adams, will allow a prospective viewer to have a firm idea of the storyline for this low-budget affair that might well serve as a template for how a flagrantly outrageous melodrama was to be constructed during its cinematic time frame, the years from the mid-1930s through the mid-1940s. The picture is taken from a long story entitled "I'll Buy Your Life" by Walter F. Ripperger (incorrectly listed upon the credits screen as Rippenger), first published in Street & Smith's DETECTIVE STORY MAGAZINE, March, 1941. Ripperger's tales appeared with frequency from 1934 to 1941 in pulp fiction periodicals, these magazines paying authors by the word, accepting nearly any submission that adhered to established popular standards, even if too whimsical to succeed as even a remotely rational narrative, as is the case with this film. Director Elmer Clifton, with aid from dialogue director George Rosener, is accountable for this treatment of the Ripperger original, and the result for the most part butts up against basic canons of common sense, essentially becoming merely artificial tosh that must go without the courage of its lack of conviction. An undernourished plot benefits from several musical numbers. A significant amount of the action occurs in a cabaret, Club Sirocco, where entertainment is provided for the most part by a highly popular Cuban band of the film's era, Eddie Durant And His Rhumba Orchestra, with Durant himself singing a version of Mysterio, by Leo Rojo. Talented second female lead, the striking Joan Woodbury, dances with skill and also sings a novelty number, "Incidentally", composed by her real-life husband, actor Henry Wilcoxon. Robert Regent, cast as lead Rose Hobart's blind brother, offers an abridged version of Stephen Foster's Beautiful Dreamer in his fine baritone. Clifton's established propensity for artistically composed closeups, maintained since his palmy days at the helm of top-tier silent motion pictures, has increased the merit of some episodes, but a strong barrier remains to viewer pleasure: a hackneyed scenario that as a consequence lowers the film to its station as merely a tiresome exercise in anti-climax. Despite flat direction that thereby pardons hamminess displayed by some veteran players, these are depreciated when always effectual Hobart is on screen, persuasively creating her role of a woman ready to sacrifice her life for a noble purpose. Reissued by Alpha Home Entertainment, the first name among those companies supplying little loved older films to a DVD buying public, has not, in accord with its policy, remastered this film; however, the print is visually satisfactory throughout, and its sound quality is fine, skips and elisions being infrequent. There are, as must be expected from Alpha, no extras provided upon the disk.

Rose Hobart needs money for an operation for her brother. She feels responsible for his blindness. When an advertisement appears in Michael Whelan's paper, headlined "I'll sell my life", she takes up the offer: to confess to a murder committed by Joan Woodbury, and be hanged for it. She collects enough money for the operation and is promised more, so she asks Whelan, who is also a lawyer, to be her executor. When she's dead, if the money is given to him, to deliver it and destroy the enclosed letter. If not, to deliver the letter. However, the dead woman was gangster Stanley Fields' girlfriend, and he wants to know what's in the letter.

It's a terrific idea for a story, with a pretty good cast -- it was the last movie Fields made. Some of the dialogue is pretty clunky, though, and Elmer Clifton's direction is not what you'd call sparkling. Clifton had been an actor and Assistant Director for D.W. Griffith, and had done some nice work in the 1920s. However, like a lot of promising directors, talkies had hit him like a brick. After 1929, he didn't direct another movie for four years, and his next after that was in 1935. He had retreated into Poverty Row B movies, mostly horse operas. He was still toiling away in the lower parts of the industry when he died in 1949, aged 59.

The premise may be a stretch but does hold some interest. Too bad Clifton's direction mangles the potential. So why does Hobart leave a strange letter with kindly soul Whalen along with several thousand dollars. Whalen's to hold the letter until a large remaining sum is paid him. If the money is not paid, he's to open the letter and see that justice is done whatever that might mean. And, oh yes, the transaction is to take place after Hobart's death which she implies is imminent.

Yeah, the plot's kind of involved. Still, we wonder what's in the mysterious envelope, why Hobart is to die, and what would be the required justice. Unfortunately, director Clifton undercuts the mystery with no atmosphere, silly comical characters, and a meandering narrative (he's also a co-writer). Fortunately, actress Hobart gives the story what impact it has; at the same time, leading man Whalen's character is both a stretch and blandly played. For me, the best part are the nightclub acts and Woodbury's revealing tight skirt.

Overall, the flick's a wasted opportunity. I'm just sorry RKO, for example, didn't get a shot at the material during its 40's period of dark shadows and ironical fate. Then we might have had something memorable instead of a belly flop.