THEY WON'T BELIEVE ME: Blu-ray (RKO, 1947) Warner Archive

Irving Pichel’s They Won’t Believe Me (1947) is one of those not-altogether clever film noirs, made at RKO in its last days of steady decline into oblivion. In its day, RKO had been a studio of considerable merit, its saving grace in the thirties – a series of costly musicals to co-star, Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers – leading to period of adjustment in the early 40’s after that winning screen team’s departure, buffeted by the installation, but almost as immediate expulsion of enfant terrible, Orson Welles, and, by a revolving roster of executives who brought their own tastes to bear on the studio’s output, but never lasted long enough to actually steer the foundering ship back into port. Then, came Howard Hughes! In the early 40’s, it appeared as though the fallow period would be short-lived. Producer/writer, Val Lewton’s uncanny success with 9 psychological horror classics kept RKO in the black. And lest we forget, here was the studio Walt Disney entrusted with the distribution of his animated classics, to say nothing of the home-grown hits allied with Hitchcock and other stalwart directors like Leo McCarey, Howard Hawks and John Ford, belying Bing Crosby’s rather glib assessment of RKO as the perfect fallout shelter during WWII… “because they haven’t had a hit in years!”  

They Won’t Believe Me starts out strong, has a ‘killer’ cast, to include a mesmerizing performance by Robert Young, playing against his trademarked ‘good guy’, with Susan Hayward in very good support as a schemer, and, noir fav, Jane Greer as ‘the other woman’. The trouble here is John Latimer’s screenplay, based on a story by Gordon McDonell. Our tale begins in earnest as the prosecution rests in the murder trial of Larry Ballentine (Robert Young). As no attorney worth his retainer would allow a guilty man to take the stand in his own defense, naturally Larry rises to the occasion to tell his story. We regress in flashback – the main staple of all great noir thrillers, to the fateful moment when Larry met Janice Bell (Jane Greer). It was never meant to turn to passion. But hey, if you’ve seen at least a few noir classics, you just know Larry and Janice are on to something. Problem: Larry is married to Greta (Rita Johnson), his trophy wife and meal ticket. Recognizing Larry is unwilling to severe this tether, Janice instead puts in for a job transfer. Placating his paramour with a promise to ditch his wife, Larry is quite unaware Greta already knows about his latest tryst. To this end, and to keep her man, Greta informs Larry she has just purchased a quarter-interest in a lucrative L.A. brokerage for him. As money means more to Larry than love, he easily dumps Janice without so much as a goodbye. Aside: real quality guy!

Alas, Larry’s new digs at the brokerage are anything but smooth sailing. He is admonished by his business partner, Trenton (Tom Powers), for neglecting a rich client, but skirts further humiliation when fellow employee, Verna Carlson (Susan Hayward) shows Trent’ a copy of a letter Larry presumably sent to the client, thus saving the day. Actually, Verna wrote the letter. However, unable to prove otherwise, Trent begrudgingly accepts this explanation. And although Larry is quite aware Verna – a ruthless gold-digger – used to be polishing more than the brass at Trent’s place, Larry allows himself to be seduced by her. Alas, old habits, if indeed they die hard, nevertheless, leave an ugly little trail of breadcrumbs behind for the wife to find. And thus, Greta becomes aware of the affair between her husband and Verna. Now, Greta sells the brokerage and buys a rustic Spanish ranch in the hills, forcing Larry to choose between an uncertain – and seemingly penniless future with great sex – or to remain her cuckold on a limitless financial tether. You guessed it. Larry choses option #2, informing Verna of his intent to end their flagrante delictos. Retired to their out-of-the-way hacienda, Larry and Greta settle into…well…their Saturday night usual. He is almost immediately bored by their isolation. But Greta absolutely loves their newfound solitude. However, when Greta makes it known she intends to build an addition for her aunt – who cannot abide Larry – he feigns knowing the perfect contractor back in L.A. – then, telephones Verna for an escape and reunion.

In town, Larry conspires with Verna on a plan to run away together after he has quietly syphoned off all the funds from his joint checking account. But this plan also backfires when Verna refuses to cash in Larry’s ill-gotten gains at the brokerage. Instead, she simply suggests they plan a life together and goads Larry into following through on his promise to divorce Greta and marry her. He agrees, and departs in haste, leaving a letter behind for his wife to discover. It all seems perfect, in a cheap and tawdry sort of way. Except that on the road to paradise – or rather, Reno - the happy couple are struck by an oncoming truck having blown a tire. Verna is instantly killed in the fiery wreck. But Larry, thrown from the car, awakens in hospital several days later to be consoled over ‘his wife’s’ death. Recognizing his good fortune, Larry does not correct this mistaken identification when questioned by the local authorities. Instead, and rather insidiously, he now plots to murder Greta as ‘double jeopardy’ precludes him of ever being found guilty of murder as Greta already has been declared legally dead. Problem #2: Greta isn’t home when Larry arrives. Remembering her favorite place, atop a cliff near a waterfall, Larry makes his pilgrimage, still plotting to do away with his wife. Instead, he discovers the note he left behind, detailing his plan to divorce her, lying on the ground. Peering over the cliff’s edge, Larry realizes Greta has committed suicide by leaping to her death. Now, he disposes of her remains in the dark pool below the falls.

Queerly depressed by his good fortune, Larry – now richer than Midas – decides to take an extended vacation to South America and the Caribbean.  As fate would have it, his guilt precludes his chances at happiness. However, in Jamaica, Larry runs into Janice. Persuading her to reconcile, the couple return to Los Angeles together. Only something is decidedly remiss. Janice is aloof and mysterious – quite unlike her former self. And, in preparing for their rendezvous in town, Larry finds Janice meeting with Trenton who is gravely concerned over Verna’s disappearance. In fact, Trent’ has set up Larry, using Janice as bait. Believing he has enough to accuse Larry of murder, Trent calls in the police. In combing the hills for a body, they come across Greta’s decomposed corpse and mistakenly identify it as Verna. As a local storekeeper previously witnessed Larry and Verna driving away together, the police theorize Larry murdered her because she was blackmailing him. While the jury adjourns for their deliberations, Larry is visited by Janice, who confides she loves him still. He admits everything to her, but reasons there is zero chance he will be acquitted. Hence, when the jury returns to deliver their verdict, Larry attempts to leap to his death from an open window. Instead, he is shot dead by a security guard. And…oh, the irony…the verdict is read – not guilty!

They Won’t Believe Me is chocked full of the sort of bleak genius in twists and turns that make film noir such a perennially revivable movement. But somewhere along the way, They Won’t Believe Me completely forgets, for any thriller to click with an audience it first needs to find a hook of plausibility on which all points of its suspense can dangle like the elemental threads of a devious little mobile, tantalizing the audience with its kooky array of ‘what if’s?’ If only Larry had returned to find Greta alive and bitter and ready to destroy him, hence, leading to his original plan to murder her, the courtroom finale here would have possessed more oomph, to elicit much more than the 30-second gasp. When RKO re-issued the picture in 1957, it cut the run time from an already swiftly executed 95-mins. to barely 80 – neatly, to fit into a double bill. For decades, this was thought to be the only surviving master. But now, the Warner Archive (WAC) has restored and remastered the original full-length feature in hi-def and, predictably, the results are solid and well worth the wait. Aside: it is gratifying to see WAC pursuing its commitments to the RKO library that, in addition to the MGM library and their own holdings, they currently retain the rights.  

The B&W image is gorgeous, sporting a wonderfully thick and gritty quality, remastered in 4K from an original nitrate element, and, looking every bit as perfect as it likely did for its premiere 74 years ago!!! Harry J. Wild’s cinematography is a tour de force, with rich and velvety shadows, and spookily lit interiors that sparkle with renewed crispness. Fine details abound. Contrast is excellent. Close-ups reveal a startling amount of clarity. The 2.0 DTS mono is excellent. Like the visuals, all age-related imperfections here have been eradicated. Like almost everything released via the WAC banner, this one’s a keeper. The one regret – no extras. Not even a theatrical trailer. Oh well, can’t have everything. Bottom line: WAC has once again spent its money where it counts – on their remastering efforts. Prepare to be dazzled. Or just enjoy this little seen and almost forgotten noir nugget for what it is – damn good, almost to the very end.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

0