THE FAT MAN (1951)

Universal Pictures released this crime film noir based on the popular five-year radio drama created by Dashiell Hammett. Directed by William Castle, the pacing is slow and offers zero excitement with a screenplay by Harry Essex and Leonard Lee bearing some responsibility. The script could not be fully clarified without multiple flashbacks. One is a flashback within a flashback. The supporting cast is awarded at least one. At any rate, the frequency disrupts the film's flow. The film eliminates the imagination that radio can generate. Theater attendance made this clear, signaling a follow-up movie was not in the planning stages. 

J. Scott Smart reprises and finishes his role as the well-known private detective with a commonality with Rex Stout's, Nero Wolfe, both having a passion for food with waistlines as proof. Smart is not nearly as smart, however. Simple investigative logic is all he needs to solve crimes. He can “cut a rug” on the dance floor and habitually addresses a female or male as “sweetheart.” His assistant is the befuddled and persnickety, Clinton Sundberg, responsible for shuttling him around and designing his meals. He is very fastidious concerning meal preparation. 

The "Fat Man" is about to partake in a sizable gourmet lunch. A most inopportune time for Jayne Meadows to seek his counsel. She initiates the first flashback to help him understand her backstory. They become somewhat of a team in tracking down the murder of her boss, a dentist, and a missing set of X-rays. Thus begins the usual questioning of intertwined characters. Smart meets with Julie London on more than one occasion. She provides flashbacks about her husband, Rock Hudson, and his prison stretch from a million-dollar robbery organized by John Russell. Hudson's cellmate, Emmitt Kelly, learns of Hudson's demise and wants his share of the loot. A minor detail: Meadows and Hudson use their real first names for their characters, Jane and Roy, as in Roy Scherer Jr.

The performances sway like a pendulum. Meadows seems near-comatose throughout. London is in the same coma ward though her coma breaks early. Russell adds interest to his scenes with his menacing brow, which fits a gangster, unlike Hudson, who is miscast. Teddy Hart steals his two scenes with Sundberg as, “Shifty,” a short, weaselly, high-voiced Brooklyn informer. He teases Sundberg because he knows it exasperates him. But without a doubt, Marvin Kaplan's brief scene as “Pinkie” swings the pendulum far into the hilarity region. His distinct Brooklyn accent and his melancholy delivery were legendary. He and his brother-in-law and trucking firm boss, Edwin Max, dislike each other immensely. Max thinks Kaplan is a dimwit and incapable of a solid day's work. Kaplan's sarcastic banter with Max is delightful. It is not just for laughs, either. They provide the final clue for Smart to pinpoint the murderer. 

Note: Screen Gems created a second potential television series starring Robert Middleton. The never-aired 1959 pilot movie was a lackluster fifty-eight minutes, despite Middleton's suave and commanding performance and a fine turn by his crackling assistant, Tony Travis. This private detective charged $200 a day, indicating Jim Rockford was not keeping pace with inflation.

DOWN THREE DARK STREETS (1954)

Produced by Edward Small and distributed by United Artists, this film is another pseudo-documentary-style account of the FBI pursuing three cases (dark streets). Underlying the opening credits is a commanding, All-American march theme, by Paul Sawtell. The film wastes no time locking in the viewer with the murder of a gas station attendant followed by a brief, dark and suspenseful scene tracking a killer. Then it settles into melodramatic voice-over narration informing the viewer what the actors are doing, have done, or will soon do. Aside from the first-rate performances, this movie possesses nothing new for the moviegoer. Broderick Crawford is solid in this warm-up for his successful television series, Highway Patrol. Literally and figuratively, he carries a lot of weight as an agent who plays it by the book but with empathy. Working alongside Crawford is polite FBI agent, Kenneth Tobey, always excellent with a genuine professional demeanor in any of his authoritative roles. The script is pretty riveting as his story unfolds. Tobey was working on three cases, each one involving women who may or may not have a common thread. Unfortunately, he ends up with much less dialogue than Crawford. 

Woman number one, Roman, is a primary dark street. She is getting calls from an extortionist with demands threatening her and her young daughter. Roman is a nervous wreck and Crawford replaces Tobey to help discover and apprehend the extortionist. Woman number two is Martha Hyer, who tries too hard for a Best Supporting Actress nomination. As the worldly girlfriend of the guy who killed Tobey and the service station attendant in the opening, she shows every sign of trying to steal scenes from Crawford. A tough job. Marisa Pavan is woman number three. Her conversation with Crawford is methodically talkative but provides a tender moment. She is so familiar with her surroundings, that it takes a while for Crawford to realize her character is blind. Her husband, Gene Reynolds, is suspected of hot car hustling. Known car hustler and boxer, Claude Akins, is also apprehended. He and Reynolds pretend not to know each other, but when the FBI mentions Akins using Paven as a punching bag, Reynolds attacks him, fists flying. The violent tussle between them goes without a single expletive. Not that anyone would expect it during this era. But a rarity for today's films as useless words are regurgitated without any self-control.

Roman closes the film with the climactic finale. A phone call instructs her to find a hidden note at a designated location. It is the classic ransom note with individually clipped letters pasted on paper. She is to put the payoff money under the "W.” She revolves, looking for the letter, then spots the Hollywood sign up the mountain. While driving closer she double-checks the note to make sure which letter she is looking for. She really is rattled. As scripted women seemed to do in this era, she stumbles, spraining her ankle from heels that should never go off-road. The money spills out of her purse. The extortionist, a face not unfamiliar to her, grabs the money and escapes through the big "O" letter. He has a very short drive as the way down is blocked by the police. After all the creeps Crawford deals with, Roman is a breath of fresh air. As she is escorted home, he tells his partner, “Sometimes you meet some nice people in this business.” The film closes from an elevated camera position and the return of the majestic march theme. Not unlike a Highway Patrol ending.

Note: Max Showalter, using his singing career name, Casey Adams, for this film, is a persistent “friend of the family” to Ruth Roman and a bit too frequent date. His brief appearances do not lessen his importance in the film. Speaking of a bit too frequent, Jay Adler has a creepy role as Roman's sleazeball uncle who comes and goes when one least expects it. He has no relevance in the film and simply gives the audience someone else to wonder about. Suzanne Alexander has a couple of short scenes in the early going. Her acting becomes unintentionally funny. She is unable to reveal details for fear of her life. The FBI agents are at the end of their patience as she sits, constantly trying to work up some acting tears while fiddling with her noisy, tinkling charm bracelet.