Behind Green Lights

Plot—a shady character turns up dead in front of a police station. Looks like the cops have their man, oops, woman, but then the corpse disappears and fingers begin to point in different directions.

Okay time-passer from TCF. The format suggests a transition period between the comedic who-dun-its of the 1930's and the noirish police procedures of the late 40's. The two blend awkwardly here with an obstreperous group of crime reporters and antic characters providing the humor, and a no-nonsense police Lt. (Gargan) the procedure. Unfortunately, the moods contrast rather than complement, a tricky combo, at best. As other reviewers point out, the movie's standout aspect is influence peddling among city officials and police that suggests deals can be made without much regard for guilt or innocence. Perhaps the humorous side was intended to soften this harder message.

Rather disturbing to see promising actress Landis just two years before her tragic suicide, one of Hollywood's more lamentable. Too bad her sparkling personality remains subdued in a rather dour role. Still, she remains a distinctive presence and not just for us guys. Unfortunately, tough guy Ireland is wasted in a supporting role. But with his distinctive looks, he's clearly on his way up.

Anyway, the mystery's surprise solution is told in multiple flashbacks, so be prepared for the cut-aways. All in all, the movie's a journeyman piece of work, perhaps reflecting a coming change in post-war mood.

(In passing—Like reviewer arfdawg, I was puzzled by the clumsily edited opening scene of Janet {Landis} holding a gun on Bard, which doesn't appear to fit with what follows. However, the scene is picked up later in flashback. My guess is the idea was meant to be a teaser. Unfortunately, it looks like dull scissors were used to cut it.)

A police-procedural mystery that's about halfway to film noir but comes up short, Behind Green Lights takes place entirely during a single night in a midwestern city (stockyards are mentioned; Kansas City? Chicago?). A car rolls up to the green globes of a police station, holding the murdered body of a private investigator who dabbled in blackmail. Asked in for questioning is Carole Landis, daughter of a mayoral candidate, who had been in the extortionist's apartment earlier that evening. Though other suspects emerge, the ink-stained wretches on the police beat smell a scoop: If Landis is convicted in the press, it will swing the election that's just a few days off.

Its view of the press as partisan, corrupt and unprincipled is the most unusual aspect of Behind Green Lights. It assumes (in this case rightly) that the newspapers have mercenary minions stowed throughout the city government. The medical officer (Don Beddoe) clearly takes his orders not from night-shift boss William Gargan but from a sleazy tabloid's editor-in-chief (Roy Roberts). On his instructions, he substitutes victim's body for a John Doe's after he discovers that the murder weapon was poisoned Bourbon, not the gunshot that would implicate Landis. (This switching around of corpses introduces an antic element of slapstick from which the movie never quite recovers.)

But the pervasive corruption of big-town politics remains oddly matter-of-fact, never developed into an indictment or accepted as a grim given of mid-twentieth-century American life; it's just a plot point. (The movie also has to work around the central presence of the charisma-free Gargan, while John Ireland is wasted as his assistant.) It wraps up neatly, leaving little atmosphere behind (Mabel Paige as a flower vendor stays the most memorable character). Still, it has a brisk pace and professional look - both indoor and outdoor scenes have a dark, noirish shine, thanks to director of photography Joe MacDonald, who would go on to light many worthy noirs - and leaves one wishing that it had been just a little bit longer and a little bit better.

A solid, unsung noir murder mystery that unfolds over the course of one long night. After the bullet-ridden body of a detective rolls up to the steps of a police precinct in a car, the cops inside scramble to unravel the mystery of their stiff colleague. It's not long before local newsboys get a whiff of the action and buzz on down to the station frothing at the mouth for an exclusive on the story. A dead detective, a politician's daughter, and a savage media frenzy are the foundation of this quick-paced, engaging whodunnit.

Noir lovers won't be disappointed; it's got murder, betrayal, dames with questionable motives, and moody b&w photography that evokes late night atmosphere. There's no shortage of fast-talking characters, smoky rooms, shadowy night scenes, scheming reporters, and a few halfhearted attempts at humor.

Overall it's an entertaining little mystery, with lots of moving parts, that takes a critical look at the shady relationships between the law, politics, and the media. For being confined to a 64 minute run time, a few locations, and one night, it's a testament to the skill of the writers and director that the film gets its thematic points across so effectively. Writers Scott Darling and Charles Booth cleverly conceal the killer's identify until the dramatic reveal, and toss in some comedic plot points like a corpse stashed in a storage closet and a kooky old lady with a tray of baked goods who holds the key to the mystery. This lean, low budget slice of Golden Era noir clocks in at just over an hour and is efficiently directed by Otto Brower. This would be the director's final film; he died January 15, 1946, twenty days before this film's release.

Other than guessing the murderer the minute I saw him, I thought "Behind Green Lights" from 1946 was pretty good.

The first thing we see is a young woman (Carole Landis) entering an apartment and telling the man inside that she hasn't raised enough money. Then she pulls a gun on him.

Later, a body is dumped in front of a police precinct. It turns out to be that of a detective turned blackmailer, and we learn that none other than a mayoral candidate's daughter had visited him before he died. She is brought in for questioning.

The editor of a newspaper doesn't want that candidate to win and pressures Lt. Carson (Gargan) to formally arrest the mayor's daughter, at least until after the election. Not happening.

At first it appears that the blackmailer was shot to death; he was shot, but the cause of death was poisoning. The coroner is actually taking orders from the editor, and he's told to get the body out of the police station before anyone realizes that the man was poisoned.

Some nice bits concerning the body, an escaped prisoner, and a closet.

Okay film, with nice performances by Gargan, Richard Crane, John Ireland, Mary Anderson, and Charles Russell. This is down a few notches for the beautiful Landis, whose career sadly declined after Darryl Zanuck dumped her. She committed suicide two years later at the age of 29. A very sad life.

I think it's worth seeing even if it is an uneven mix of noir and comedy - I liked some of the characters.

It's the graveyard shift, with night commander William Gargan holding down the fort. A car rolls up right in front of the station. Someone opens the car and a corpse falls out. It's Bernard Nedell with a bullet hole in him. He was a P.I. and blackmailer by trade, and one of the suspects is Carole Landis, whose father is up for election, so there's pressure to put her behind bars. Soon the case becomes ever more tangled....

It's an okay little flick, directed for speed by Otto Brower. Brower bounced between directing B pictures -- his westerns are lively affairs -- and being an assistant director on some pretty classy As, one of the highly competent craftsmen who never got the breaks, but was obviously known in the industry for his good work. Writer Scott Darling ekes out the short running time with eccentric characters: the guy who breaks out of jail so he can wrestle at an Elks smoker, the reporter who wears his grandfather's buffalo-skin coat, a kid whose head is trapped in a goldfish bowl (his mother wants it removed without breaking it), Mabel Paige as the flower seller who wants her $1.75 from the corpse, and iold-timer Tom Moore and J. Farrell MacDonald.

It's more a procedural that film noir, barring some eccentrically lit shots on an apartment stairs, and there are no early clues; everything breaks at once, with the motive revealed after the audience can figure out whodunnit. However, it's an example of the lively B movie that Fox could still turn out on a short budget, given the superfluity of talent available.