Dear Murderer

Low budget noir with deep shadows. Greta Gynt is great as the nasal-voiced adulteress. Her tacky furnishings (lampshades like skirts and satin sheets) betray her inner rottenness - spot those coiled serpents on the shoulders of her nightdress! Eric Portman is as brilliant and compelling - and sympathetic - as ever. If you like this, see him in A Canterbuy Tale. xxxxx

I happened across this movie on Netflix and, due to my love of noir films and its 94-minute running time, I decided to give it a try. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed this.

The plot set-up is fairly simple: a wealthy British businessman returns home early from a business trip to America, discovers evidence that his younger, seemingly devoted wife has been stepping out on him, and decides to get his revenge. That's where the fun begins.

His seemingly foolproof plan doesn't quite go exactly as he thought, which is the case in a lot of movies like this. What separated this movie, though, was that even as the husband's plan began to lose its original shape, what he was able to mold it into became even more diabolical than it was at first intended.

Although all of the cast does a decent job in their assigned roles, it's really the lead roles of the husband and wife played by Eric Portman and Greta Gynt, that deserve special mention. Both play their parts quite well, Portman as the well-spoken, egotistical husband, and Gynt as the manipulative, philandering wife.

I especially enjoyed watching Gynt's character, who plays the role of the femme fatale here as a treacherous vixen who could stand alongside noir's best. In certain movies where wives seek the affections of someone other than their respective mate, they're portrayed as a character who just desires attention from an emotionally distant husband, or one who is either emotionally or physically abused at the hands of a domineering brute. Here, however, she is a truly terrible person, and some of the reactions she gives when hearing information that would normally be very troubling to a person is pretty fascinating.

I don't want to build this movie up as anything more than it is, an enjoyable hour-and-a-half of a formula most of us have seen before, but check this one out on a rainy day when you don't feel like going outside. You might find that it's a bit better than you'd expected.

Dear Murderer is directed by Arthur Crabtree and collectively adapted to screenplay by Muriel Box, Sydney Box and Peter Rogers from the play by St. John Leigh Clowes. It stars Eric Portman, Greta Gynt, Dennis Price, Maxwell Reed, Jack Warner, Hazel Court and Jane Hylton. Out of Gainsborough Pictures, music is by Benjamin Frankel and cinematography by Stephen Dade.

Lee Warren (Portman), consumed by jealousy over his wife's unfaithfulness, believes he has executed the perfect murder, however, he hadn't bargained on another one of his wife's lovers entering the fray. But sensing a great opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, he executes another cunning plan…

Perhaps he's Adolf Hitler in disguise? He's about the right height.

A wonderfully twisty British thriller, Dear Murderer enjoys giving off a whiff of unpleasantness as it enthrals from the get go. Classic Brit staples are in place for this type of thriller, a vengeful man, harlot woman, intrepid copper and male suitors caught in a trap. Construction is as such, that it's initially hard to actually get on side with any of the principal characters, but one of the film's many delights is in how it constantly alters the trajectory of sympathy towards the actual murderer! It helps as well that the story doesn't rest on its laurels, this is not merely about one murder, and about one man trying to get away with that murder, it's about more than that. There's a lot of talking going on, but it's all relevant to actions that are soon to follow, so when the flip-flops arrive, we are fully prepared and immersed in the devilish goings on.

Arthur Crabtree (Madonna of the Seven Moons) is something of an unsung director from the British classic era, where often he has been termed workmanlike and steady. Yet he was able to make much suspense and atmosphere from the most basic of set-ups. He also was a good director of actors, as evidenced here with the performances he gets out of Portman (calm, calculated and cunning) and Gynt (a wonderful slinky femme fatale dressed up to the nines). While in conjunction with photographer Dade (Zulu), he puts period Gothic noir tints on proceedings, especially on the exteriors where darkness, shadows and gaslights imbues murky machinations of plot. There's a big leap of faith required to accept one critical turn of events entering the home straight, but ultimately the finale is not damaged by it, for here a black heart beats strong. Splendid. 8/10

Eric Portman, Greta Gynt, Dennis Price, and Jack Warner star in "Dear Murderer," a 1947 film courtesy of Gainsborough Productions.

Portman plays Lee Warren, an Englishman who has to be away for eight months in the U. S. setting up a New York office for his firm. His wife Vivien, who has cheated on him before, promises him she is over all that and will write every day.

She keeps it up for a while and then the letters stop. Warren sees a photo of her in a Tattler magazine with one Richard Fenton (Price) and knows she's being unfaithful again.

The film actually begins with Warren dropping in on Fenton and announcing that he's going to kill him, and that it will be the perfect crime. Complications ensue, not the least of which is that dear Vivien has another boyfriend as well. Fenton decides to kill two birds with one big stone.

Really excellent suspense film with the beautiful Gynt looking incredible in some fabulous clothes, including the gown she wears when we first see her - it would cause a splash at today's Oscar ceremony. Jack Warner, who seems to be always playing a police detective, is here in his familiar role again.

A perfect Sunday afternoon movie and if you're a lover of mystery and suspense as I am, you'll enjoy this.

...that is what the lead/murderer is in this film. I'll explain.

Lee Warren has to go to America on a prolonged business trip. While in the US he sees a social page of the paper and there is his wife - who hasn't written him very much - dancing and out on the town with a barrister. He comes back to England without tipping off his wife and manages to kill her lover yet make it look like suicide - he uses gas. As he is cleaning up after the murder who pops into the dead man's flat but his wife and ANOTHER man. It turns out that the now dead barrister was right. His wife did have other lovers, and this lover in particular, Jimmy Martin, is somebody she wants to marry. Turns out she considers it over with the now dead barrister. Has Lee killed in vain?

Well, not exactly. He figures he can try to make this suicide look TOO obvious, get the police to believe it is what it really is - murder covered up to look like suicide - and frame Jimmy Martin in the process.

Well, this is all going swimmingly except for two things. One, the inspector on the crime, Penbury, played by the great Jack Warner - no not THAT Jack Warner - is suspicious about how neatly everything is sewn up. The second thing is that Lee Warren, for all his caution and care as a murderer, is really a fool for love when it comes to his wife. He confesses all to her when they are alone and says he told her just so he could watch her suffer. But then she leaves so he can't watch her suffer, and when she returns days later she says she has decided she loves Lee after all, but he just CAN'T let Jimmy, both innocent and of no longer any interest to her, die for a crime he did not commit. He must find a way to get Jimmy off and yet not confess himself. And the poor slob believes her.

I'll let you watch and see how this all ironically plays out. The main problem with this film is not the acting or direction or the story - all are great. The film is too dark at points, and at other points the soundtrack downright overpowers the dialogue. I think I'd give it another star if it wasn't for these technical details.

Costarring the great Hazel Court as Jimmy Martin's cast off girlfriend. You might remember her as the scream queen of circa 1960 Roger Cormen horror films. Highly recommended.