Raccrochez, c'est une erreur !

Alfred Hitchcock himself praised this movie that was for him one of Barbara Stanwyck's most extraordinary parts.Besides,he did include Lucille Fletcher's short novel in his anthology "stories not for the nervous"(sic)

The story of this woman in her bed,who has heard on the phone someone is in danger,and who little by little discovers the horrible truth,is a first-class screen play which requires the viewer's attention,,or else he may lose the vital lead.The first people who enjoyed it had no pictures,since it was originally a radio broadcast,so they had to show a lot of imagination.The movie remains talky but the numerous flashbacks give it substance.The phone,is along with Stanwyck ,the star of Litvak's work;Burt Lancaster,a great actor though,only serves as a foil to both of them.50% of the dialogue consists of phone calls,that's what makes this thriller unique.

A strong connection with Hitchcock's work is the father's part(Ed Bigley).He is some equivalent of the Mother in many movies of his.The stuffed animals in his desirable mansion are a symbol of his daughter's lifelessness.(Coincidence?There will be such hunting trophies (and more) in his "psycho" twelve years later,and the topic is present in "the man who knew too much"(2nd version))

If you are fond of suspense,this is an unqualified must!

Sorry, but 'Sorry, Wrong Number' loses a lot in its transition to the screen. For one thing, there are too many flabby flashbacks--a form quite popular in the '40s but used extensively in this film, ad nauseum. All of the suspenseful action in the bedroom of the bedridden victim is held at bay while we watch another endless flashback attempting to show us how selfish and unworthy this woman is. If you heard the original radio drama with Agnes Moorehead giving a spine-chilling portrait of Leona, you'll see why the film becomes too diffuse in an attempt to give us "filler material". The fact that Lucille Fletcher adapted her own work for the screen would give the viewer hope that this is going to be just as good as the radio drama--but it's not. Barbara Stanwyck gives an excellent performance, bordering on hysteria toward the finale--but it's an actressy performance and not as controlled as some of her other film noir roles. Burt Lancaster has a colorless role and can't do much with it. Ann Richards is impressive as the woman who tries to warn Leona. By expanding the plot outside the bedroom, Fletcher created a confusing number of sub-plots that simply take away from the tension. Too much padding actually hurts the film. Anatole Litvak's direction is strong--but not strong enough to put the film on the same level with the classic radio drama. The plot is overcomplicated to the nth degree.

Trivia note: The only other film with such heavy use of flashbacks to tell a complicated story is THE LOCKET ('47), but it was done more efficiently than it is here.

Sorry, Wrong Number (1948)

You can tell this thriller was once a radio play--it is mostly talk, and often over the telephone. But what drama can be built on a string of conversations around the office, in cars in the rain, out on a lonely beach on Staten Island, and on the telephone, often filled with mystery and doom.\

Not that it's not a visual movie, either. There is a big gloomy house, and lots of dark city streets. Shadows and moving camera and close-ups of faces and telephones, all keep you glued and increasingly worried. By the end, the really jarring, memorable end, you are ready for what you can never be ready for.

Beware, the plot is confusing. Even seeing it twice I had to pay attention to who was who, and what turn of events had just taken place. Part of the reason is there is a bewildering use of flashbacks, even flashbacks within flashbacks, told by all kinds of different characters. The plot is laid out methodically, but take notes as you go, or at least take note. The initial overheard phone call is key to it all, and it gets reinforced later somewhat, but pay heed there.

And the person on the phone? A sharp, bitter, convincing Barbara Stanwyck, who really knows how to be steely and vulnerable at the same time. Burt Lancaster is more solid and stolid, and maybe less persuasive overall, but he carries a more practical part of the story. It keeps coming back to Stanwyck in bed, and the telephone which is her contact with the facts, as they swirl and finally descend.

Director Anatole Litvak has some less known but thrilling dark dramas to look for, including Snake Pit. But this is his most sensational winner, partly for Stanwyck, and partly for the last five minutes, which is as good as drama gets.

An expanded radio play and subsequent TV drama, this film builds terrific tension around a bedridden heiress and her telephone.

Sympathy builds for this unlikeable woman, Leona, played by Barbara Stanwyck. She is a spoiled heiress used to getting her own way, but as we come to see, very much created by her father (played by Ed Begley) who bows to all her wishes.

Her husband, Henry, played by Burt Lancaster, whom she chases and captures from her best friend, initially goes along with being an employee in her father's corporation but eventually starts chafing at the restraints imposed on him.

The movie just about plays in real time with the addition of many flashbacks, one of which secures the knowledge that there is nothing wrong with Leona, it is all psychosomatic based on her mother's fatal illness.

From the moment Leona accidentally overhears a plotted murder for later on that evening, the viewer is taken on a ride that builds suspense and tension to a terrifying conclusion and the movie's title.

Not to be missed. The cinematography is superb, a lot of play in light and shade. Barbara deserved an Oscar but lost. 8 out of 10.

A woman confined to a bed overhears a murder plot on a crossed telephone line and tries to alert the police. The plot structure is quite convoluted, with most of the story told in flashbacks. In fact there are flashbacks within flashbacks, making it somewhat hard to follow. The audience is supposed to feel sympathy for Stanwyck, but the character is too self-centered and whiny for that to happen. Given her character's propensity for histrionics, the actress manages to keep her performance somewhat controlled; Lancaster is fine as her trophy husband. Litvak creates a good film noir atmosphere, although at times his camera roams aimlessly, becoming a distraction.