Deadline at Dawn Reviews
Standard film noir. Bill Williams' act as a na´ve goofball was an unflattering portrayal of a U.S. sailor at the end of WWII although Hayward and Lukas excelled in their roles and saved the movie.
She points at the body of the dead woman on the floor. "The text."
And it's not the last time the body will be referred to as "the text." What was Clifford Odets thinking? Who knows? Who cares? (1946? It was probably code! Unless he'd just read Foucault. Waitaminnit. Is dat even possible?) What we do know is he had loads of rip-roaring fun. This low-budget noir is one twisty cab ride, with dialogue as rich as earrings, and plenty of philosophical cabbies to boot! A rare bird with a knockout punch and dazzling wit, and loads of self-referrential cleverness. Enough for a paper, so get on it you academics. In the end I'm just happy to watch Susan Hayward bounce around in that black dress in the New York heat, all in love with a simple sailor boy, trying to rescue her baby from the long arm of the law. After all, innocence must be preserved. The most fun we've had watching a noir in a long time, and an easy one to cast modern: think Wahlberg as the babe in arms, and Pacino as the stiff dame's criminal brother. They're dead ringers, I tell ya!