The Guilty

A 1947 film noir. A couple of roommates, Don Castle & Wally Cassell, have the misfortune of dating a pair of identical twins, both played by Bonita Granville. When one of the twins turns up dead, Castle, along w/the police, conduct their own investigations into who did the deed w/the obvious money on Cassell. As the film progresses, we learn not all is what it seems w/several twists leads to a shocking (not really considering the genre) ending. Presented on Noir Alley & a recipient of host Eddie Muller's Noir Restoration Society, this film still looks grimy & lived in (as if dipped in milk) & Castle (dubbed the poor man's Clark Gable during his tenure as an actor) leaves much to be desired as he barely moves his mouth during dialogue delivery but a lost classic is a lost classic so I rather have it than not.

Another good film about twins from 1947 – the other being "Dual Alibi" starring Herbert Lom. In this offering, Bonita Granville plays both the good and the bad sister. One of them is murdered and it's up to Inspector Regis Toomey to get to the truth. Ex-soldier Don Castle (Mike) also does some investigating of his own.

There is a small cast in this offering and so you may suspect the guilty party at some point. However, this story is clever and does provide you with extra twists and turns at the end. The film is short and basically, it fooled me.

Twins always seem to be trouble whenever they pop up in films!

Decent noir that captures Cornell Woolrich's world of isolated, tortured men and the women over whom they obsess. Love the fact that it's all shot at night since nothing weakens this genre more than too much light, literally and otherwise. Congrats to cinematographer Henry Sharpe. And I must say I did not see the denouement coming until it was almost upon me, so congrats to scenarist Robert Presnell, as well.

Problems center around the rather languid pacing, for which director John Reinhardt must take the fall. Too much of the film, undoubtedly trying to communicate Woolrich's sense of moral deadness, itself feels half dead. And Don Castle, the "poor man's Clark Gable" who is actually more like Lee Bowman's kid brother, is, to put it mildly, not a skilled enough actor to enliven the somnolent proceedings. I will say, however, that Bonita Granville does a credible job of portraying a femme poised between fatale and decent. And Regis Toomey's somewhat smarmy cop is so good that I wish he'd been in the film more.

Bottom line: I've seen a lot worse noirs. Give it a B minus.

Both somewhat dull and weirdly fascinating, the flick starts with a long voiceover and lengthier flashback to explain how two army buddies, later roommates, (one incapacitated by PTSD, the other attending night school to better himself) get mixed up with a pair of twin sisters of opposite character (Bonita Granville). When one of them suddenly disappears, the investigation begins. Don Castle plays the straight upstanding veteran beside Wally Cassell's nervous wreck, and the two find ways to ward off a cloud of suspicion over their possible involvement in the disappearance. This is a rough-and-ready B movie but all the more authentic for that. Shot entirely in the gloom of night, it's dreary, rain-soaked and confined to about three locations - but the strange relationship between the ex-soldiers and the twins keeps one engaged, as does the whodunnit aspect, which turns out to be overly convoluted. A palpable sense of ennui, existential angst and cynicism runs through the film which, with some excellent use of shadow and light, elevate this low-budget Monogram movie into something very watchable. There's plenty to like here.

Don Castle is sharing a cheap room with his ex-lieutenant from the army, Wally Cassell. Castle is studying on the G. I. Bill. Cassell drinks a lot. Each is dating Bonita Granville, but it's all right, since she's twins in this movie. One is nice, the other is nasty. Then the nice one gets murdered, and detective Regis Toomey is on the case.

This being derived from a Cornell Woolrich story, it's surprising the guys aren't twins also; it would have saved on actors' salaries, although the process shots might have eaten up the difference. Miss Granville -- soon to become the wife of Jack Wrather, the producer of this movie -- is doubled by showing the back of another actress, or having her voice come from offscreen.

Of course, many odd possibilities arose in my mind. Did one sister kill the other, and then masquerade as the victim? What is John Litel doing in the cast? I started out confused, and even after the ending, I was still confused, because this was directed by John Reinhardt, who liked to throw in every film noir trope whether it should be there or not. Always watchable for the sake of Woolrich's sick symbolism, it's not one of the best noirs I've seen.