A while back we made fun of some English-language websites for uploading a Japanese poster backwards. Well, now it’s Japan’s turn. Play it again Boggy? Seriously guys? Is that supposed to be phonetic? We think not. Well, it just goes to show you that whatever your language is, written down it’s just a bunch of chicken scratching to billions of other people. In any case, what you’re looking at is a poster for the film noir Dead Reckoning, starring Bogie, not Boggy. In Japan the movie was titled Great Split. At least that’s what the big red writing at bottom says. Platinum-haired Lizabeth Scott co-stars with Bogart, and we think she fares better in this than in Pitfall, which we discussed last week. She’s more alluring here, and has a meatier role to play as a woman with a complicated past.

The film is narrated by Bogart, and his tale is peppered with combat and gambling metaphors as various gambits come up “snake eyes,” or he’s “dealt a joker.” Of course, the real wild card is Scott—is she or isn’t she in with the villains? Bogart’s rational side says yes, but his gut—and groin—are seduced by Scott’s siren song. We mean that literally. Mid-century filmmakers often snuck in vocal numbers for their female starsto perform. Sometimes they fit seamlessly into the plot. In this case—not so much. Scott’s routine occurs at dinner while she’s sitting at the table with Bogie. You can see the thoughts playing on his face, above, and, “This is one freeeaky chick,” eventually loses out to, “I wonder if she dyes her muff?”

In the end, the whole conspiracy—the lies, the murders, the blackmail—is all about money. No shock there. And the head villain is the one with the best suit. Of course. So Dead Reckoning isn’t special, and in fact it borrows from a few other film noirs, but how can we resist it when Bogart sneers lines like: “I haven’t had a good laugh since before Johnny was murdered.”? It’s those hardboiled moments that make Dead Reckoning worth watching. As for the mandatory love angle, strings swell and eyes well, but despite best efforts from Bogart and Scott, their chemistry is a bit, er, boggy. So maybe the Japanese were right after all. 

We watched Pitfall for the first time yesterday, and like many noirs the main takeaway here is to be thankful for what you’ve got. Dick Powell plays an insurance investigator, and even though he’s married to Jane Wyatt, he loses a philosophical debate with his own penis and ends up in Lizabeth Scott’s bed. But these fast women are never truly single—there’s always a recent ex and a raft of current admirers. Scott’s ex isn’t the main worry, since he’s cooling his heels in county, but her number one admirer is a gumshoe played by Raymond Burr and he's the sinister scheming type who is capable of just about anything. When the ex eventually gets out of jail, Burr realizes his plan to have Scott is in jeopardy, so he decides to pit the ex against Powell, which should result in one murder and one long prison sentence. Afterward he’ll just scoop up Lizabeth and sail away with her. Did we mention she despises him? Well, no matter—like all sociopaths, Burr figures she’ll come to love him in due time, especially when she finally understands that his violent tendencies are just a symptom of his devotion. Pitfall is a serviceable noir, but it isn’t top notch. The main problem for us is simply that Lizabeth Scott isn’t alluring enough to make us believe a husband would spurn the lovely and supportive Jane Wyatt. We understand that in real life these matters are complicated, but this is a movie and if Powell is going to stray, we think his marriage should be unhappy, or Scott should have more going for her than a platinum coif. Neither is the case, and so his tumble into Scott’s arms is a bit inexplicable. But hey, we’re quibbling. This is a decent movie, and we recommend it. Pitfall premiered in the U.S. today in 1948. 

Burt Lancaster once trusted a dame, but because of some unspecified slight, he now walks alone. Considering the phallic nature of the poster, we think we know what was slight, and—hint hint—it wasn’t the gun. I Walk Alone, starring Burt and Lizabeth Scott, premiered today in 1948.