SLIGHTLY SCARLET (1956)

This soap opera slash crime film is loosely based on James Cain's novel “Love's Lovely Counterfeit,” a title the film should have kept for this ninety-nine-minute film. The film falls into the B-movie noir category with few arguments. It was produced by Benedict Bogeaus, distributed by RKO Radio Pictures and directed by Western director, Allan Dwan. The occasionally implausible screenplay is by Robert Blees. There are notable actors in this one and they probably ate up most of the budget. However, its widescreen “Superscope” cinematography by John Alton is the highlight. The interiors are lavishly detailed and colorful. The mobster’s mansion would seem to have experienced a power outage as the only lighting appears to come from the props to highlight a specific interior detail or an actor’s face. The resulting shadows are foreboding, befitting the sinister surroundings. In contrast, the mob boss’s open-concept beach house is a modern-designed gem.

You will be familiar with John Payne’s role as a tough guy with a dark side. Yet those gray crime dramas never had the musically talented actor playing the piano, however briefly, as he does here. Payne always improves a film and his character's intensity is not lessened by color. Adding a ruthless quotient is his boss, the quintessential gangster, Ted de Corsia. Payne is his “public relations” man whom he sarcastically calls, “Genius.” Payne works both sides of the law yet he is tired of his powerless position under the boss’s thumb. In a double-cross, he sets him up de Corsia with a phony front-page headline about a recent murder. Thought to be untouchable, de Corsia angrily buys a one-way airline ticket to Mexico, leaving Payne to take over operations, his beach house, and his Chrysler. Mayoral candidate, Kent Taylor, had come down hard on de Corsia’s manhandling of city officials. Payne’s own manipulation secures the unsuspecting Taylor of an election victory.

What better excuse to use “Superscope” than to feature two Technicolor scarlet starlets, Rhonda “sultry” Fleming and Arlene “klepto” Dahl. Neither could be considered acting powerhouses and their screen time together is a suds-fest. Not entirely their fault. Fleming seems to treat her little sister like a high school graduate though only two years separated them in real life. Fleming comes off okay and her limited alto vocal range is not as monotonous, here.  She is Kent's secretary and girlfriend but Payne temporarily disrupts their future as he and Fleming become attached at the lips on more than one occasion. Give Dahl credit for being a convincing obnoxious adult brat. Naturally, like the average female, they sleep in full makeup and a permanent...permanently.

The film’s opening concerns Dahl's prison release for petty theft. Her lack of awareness, smart-aleck attitude and the fawning over any male assumes she is irresistible. To get an idea of her unconsciousness, later in the film she picks up a speargun at the beach house and pulls the trigger to see what might happen. The spear barely misses Payne’s head, embedding itself in the wall. She thought it funny. He angrily grabs her by the shoulders, whip-lashing her fore and aft, scarlet tresses bobbing every which way, with her enduring airhead smile intact. Payne’s bending the law to suit his personal desires never grows old as he continues to intervene after Dahl is arrested for stealing a necklace. But kleptomania is not her only underlying problem.

News of Payne’s dominance reaches de Corsia and he returns to the beach house for revenge. Dahl is the lone occupant until Fleming arrives. The mob boss knows all about her. She is on his Christmas death list. Drunken Dahl is flippant about the whole standoff. Fleming stumbles onto another loaded speargun on the deck. The mobster gets speared in the shoulder, and then she shoots him twice with his dropped gun. Dahl is one actress very aware that cameras are rolling. Her instant attitude change is so over-the-top as if the director may have told her, “On the count of three, you scream hysterically, okay? You'll need to do it twice.”

The beach house lighting during the closing is an aesthetic and graphically superior element. The wide, shallow stairway creates horizontal dashes of contrast juxtaposed with the square, dark walls and angular ceiling shadows. Payne and the scarlet duo are in an adjoining room when de Corsia manages to call him out. Payne faces de Corsia one last time and growls out several cutting insults before being perforated. Fleming’s future is in doubt, leaving her to speculate whether she can continue as the mayor’s secretary since he has fallen in love with Dahl's mental health. I would not be surprised that the rumors surrounding the mayor's future wife might affect his re-election bid.

Notes: After Payne takes over the mob from de Corsia, he also takes over his car, that Chrysler, above, with no windshield. Standard on the Imperial, the mob boss never realized it was an option on the New Yorker. I suspect there were plans to film from the hood of the prop car or the footage ended up on the cutting room floor. Even funnier is when Payne picks up his old beater at the parking garage where the Chrysler has been cleaned and polished. The young attendant admires the car, being especially proud of the streak-free windshield. The kid asks if he can borrow the Chrysler for a hot date. Imagine her reaction if her false eyelashes end up in the back seat. The lad starts the car and we hear an explosion. What we see is smoke gently rising from the dash and he instantly keels over on his right side in a less-than-convincing special effect. Apparently toxic gas.