SHIELD FOR MURDER (1954)

This United Artist release is a standard film noir and there is hardly a dull moment, starting with an attention-grabbing opening. Directed by Edmond O’Brien and Howard Koch, the latter may have obliged the star to take top credit. The music score by Paul Dunlap is used sparingly and only when effective. Much like an episode of television’s Columbo, there is no surprise who is guilty of murder after the opening scene. What is unknown is how O’Brien, a sixteen-year police detective with a volatile nature, is finally brought to justice. He uses his badge as a shield for murder. Do not be too surprised by O'Brien's occasional overacting. It sometimes reflects badly on an otherwise talented actor.

O'Brien covers up his deed suggesting it was a justified, but errant shooting. No one bothered to check his revolver's chamber. It would have indicated he shot three bullets, not just two heard by passersby. Never bothered to check the distance the fatal bullet entered the deceased, either. But I digress. His false scenario could almost be legit but for his lifting of twenty-five grand from a well-known bookie’s coat. The money hounds him throughout the film. In between the hounding, Hollywood once again portrays a male being tempted to do whatever it takes to make his girl and himself happy. Marla English is the girl. A cigarette girl at a nightclub. A job O'Brien loathes as she's being ogled by male patrons nightly. The loot may be his ticket to “untrue” happiness. In hopes of buying a particular home under construction for the two of them, he buries the bag of cash in his personal “dirt vault” near the foundation.

A seasoned police reporter, Herbert Butterfield, hangs around the squad room in hopes of a Pulitzer on O'Brien. He was quite pessimistic about that opening scene. O’Brien’s young partner, John Agar, refuses to believe it. O’Brien is something of a hero to him, helping turn his own wayward youth in the right direction. However, building a new house on a policeman’s salary sets off an internal siren.

Notorious bookmaker boss, Hugh Sanders wants his twenty-five grand “investment money” back and hires two private detective goons to tail O'Brien. The script gives private detectives some bad press as these two usually beat the truth out of a suspect. O'Brien is one recipient. This police hatred for private investigators was no help to Jim Rockford twenty years later. Their final shootout in a crowded indoor swimming pool set several lap records for some swimmers. Bullets flying between them—both lousy shots—with little regard for the patrons. One swimmer, prostrate on a high dive, hesitates, then decides to dive in between bullets. And they call it a health club!

Though no surprise to the viewer, there was a witness in that opening scene. What is a surprise is that the screenplay cleverly makes the witness unable to hear or speak, demanding he write down what he saw. O’Brien is the first to read the small note. Bummer. Later, he pays the old gentleman a visit to confirm the note's assertions and close a loose end. Unknown to O’Brien, the man left a master copy of his police note in his notebook. Agar finds it and plans to arrest his partner who nearly pulls the trigger on Agar. It is at this point the viewer has confirmation that O’Brien needs serious psychological counseling. O’Brien maniacally attempts to retrieve the cash from his dirt vault after the usual high-speed night chase. He turns around with his bag of loot to face a row of headlights. Losing all reasoning, O’Brien opens fire. What he receives in return is undeniably over-the-top.

Note: As Hollywood's typical lonely woman at a bar counter, Carolyn Jones has a couple of scenes with O’Brien though he is not good company. She could not care less. He is company. After they kiss, he notices an obvious large bruise on her upper right arm. He asks her where she got it. “From somebody, I guess,” she says unconcerned. “Besides, it doesn't hurt.”