Columbia
Pictures, 82m
The influence of the past on the present is one of the most definitive film noir themes. That consistent connection probably is best
explained by an element of fate. Although the forces of darkness that rule the
noir world sometimes appear random,
other times the genre’s protagonists encounter self-imposed difficulties.
Indeed some of my favorite film noirs
involve a protagonist who falls into a trap of his own making. One of the
finest examples of that template is director Phil Karlson's terrific SCANDAL SHEET (1952), based upon the
novel THE DARK PAGE by Samuel Fuller. One of many fine noirs produced by Edward Small, this adaptation moves at a brisk
pace and, unfortunately, still accurately reflects our nation's appetite for
sordid news reporting.
What
plays out in the narrative has its roots in an event that transpired two
decades ago in Connecticut, when Mark Chapman (Broderick Crawford) deserted his
unstable wife Charlotte (Rosemary DeCamp), whose wrists show irrefutable
evidence of a suicide attempt. Having moved on from the relationship better
than she has, these days Chapman is the unapologetic executive editor of the New York Express, a once respected news
publication he converted into a far more financially viable tabloid operation.
The more sensational the news, the higher the circulation jumps. The paper's
brand of journalism has been altered so unrecognizably that onetime Pulitzer
Prize winner Charlie Barnes (Henry O'Neill) has been reduced to a pathetic
drunkard, abandoned to the company of the city's wastrels.
Chapman's
place in society is threatened when Charlotte returns to the Lonely Hearts Club
Ball that Chapman himself engineered in the interest of generating another
lowest-common-denominator news feature. In a tense scene, Chapman quite
ironically creates another such story when he accidentally kills Ball attendee
Charlotte, which predictably leads to an avalanche of trouble for the master of
yellow journalism. One crime almost always begets more crime in the film noir, as the embattled protagonist
cannot stop digging when he finds himself in a deep hole.
But
as one man falls in SCANDAL SHEET,
another man must rise. Reporter Steve McCleary (John Derek) is first glimpsed
at the film's exposition scene at a squalid apartment complex, where he
impersonates a cop to get all the dirt from a hatchet murder eyewitness. Later
he bribes the chief examiner (Cliff Clark) with baseball tickets. Though he no
doubt learned such tactics from Chapman, to prove his worth as an investigative
reporter, McCleary (unknowingly) must endeavor to bring down Chapman. This is
the greatest of the film's many ironies, that to succeed we must destroy
someone we admire. The tabloid editor slowly being condemned by his own protégé
suggests an absurd justice rules noir
territory, especially considering the newspaper readership boost that results
from Chapman's own criminal activity.
Broderick
Crawford was one of those few actors uniquely suited to the noir form. His infamously hard drinking
made him difficult to work with, yet I never have questioned his performances.
Here his forehead really beads up with sweat as the thumbscrews gradually
tighten. Similar to Mark Dixon (Dana Andrews) in WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS (1950), Chapman must observe the dogged
investigation of the crime he committed. On another thematic level, Chapman is
a man torn between two identities, an unenviable challenge shared by other
major noir characters that came
before him. Multiple identities complicated the lives of the protagonists in
numerous film noirs prior to SCANDAL SHEET, including THE DARK MIRROR (1946), NORA PRENTISS (1947), HOLLOW TRIUMPH (1948) and THE CROOKED WAY (1949). Fittingly,
Chapman's dismissive treatment of the fallen journalist Barnes accelerates the
editor's downfall. Less compelling than Crawford's presence is the performance
by John Derek, who offers a rather one-dimensional turn. Donna Reed casts a
better impression in her role as the embodiment of journalistic integrity. The
cinematography for SCANDAL SHEET was
handled by Burnett Guffey, who served as director of photography for that same
year's unforgettable film noir THE SNIPER (1952).
SCANDAL SHEET was
predated by other essential film noirs
that portrayed journalism in a negative light, i.e. THE BIG CLOCK (1948), FOLLOW
ME QUIETLY (1949), THE UNDERWORLD
STORY (1950) and, most notably, ACE
IN THE HOLE (1951). All are well worth your time. Be prepared when SCANDAL SHEET airs next on Turner
Classic Movies, or hand over the cash for the pricey Sony DVD box set The
Samuel Fuller Film Collection.
