“I’m backed up into a dark corner and I don’t know who’s hitting me.”
It’s always satisfying to find another little gem of a film-noir, and I think this thriller from Henry Hathaway fits that bill. Our stars include a serious and quite beautiful Lucille Ball along with Mark Stevens as gumshoe Bradford Galt. He’s more of a Cornel Wilde type. A rather nondescript lead compared to Bogey or even Dick Powell, but he works well enough as the focal point of this story.
He served a stretch in prison after he was framed for a murder wrap and now he’s a P.I. trying to keep himself on the right side of the law. But nevertheless, it’s a dirty business that’s bound to catch up with him. He’s being shadowed by a man in a white suit and almost gets mowed down by a car that had his name on it. His secretary Ms. Kathleen Stewart genuinely worries for his safety and tries to help him, so he reluctantly lets her into his life.
Everything seems to point back to one man. Anthony Jardine was the attorney who set Galt up and sent him off to the clink. It only makes sense that he would want to silence the P.I. for good. After all, if not him who else could it be? Except things get especially dicey when Galt gets framed once more and this time he knows for sure his old nemesis cannot be involved.The race is on for the real murderer because Galt must also attempt to clear his name before he gets charged with another killing leading to a date with the electric chair. This is when a juicy piece of dramatic irony comes in since as the audience we know who has it out for the P.I. We just don’t know why… Some sleuthing leads Galt to another crime scene and finally to an art gallery where he follows a hunch. His suspicions were on point, and he finally fights his way out of the corner.
It should go without saying that The Dark Corner is beautifully shot with a lot of wonderful low lit sequences that are deliciously moody. Interestingly enough, the storyline is infused with a lot of Culture whether it is jazz music or pieces of fine art. It’s a weird juxtaposition of this noir world bleeding into these higher echelons of society. The people and places criss-cross and intertwine in a web of the urban and the urbane. It proves that treachery can rise up from any level of society.