NORA PRENTISS: Blu-ray (Warner Bros., 1947) Warner Archive

The male mid-life crisis has oft been portrayed at the movies as an uncomfortable disconnect between a fellow, demented on his waning sex appeal, and, his all-too-young feelings, spoilt on the urge to still believe he is twenty-one. But rarely has it attained such and absurdly maudlin manifesto as junk romance, as in director, Vincent Sherman’s Nora Prentiss (1947). Expertly photographed by the great James Wong Howe, and played with a modicum of sincerity by its leading lady, Ann Sheridan as the titular tart, the picture is drawn-out, dull and fairly predictable. Co-star, Kent Smith, as Richard Talbot, a Frisco doc on the verge of this crying gag, veers into uncharted sex maniac territory after his lust-happy quest for eternal youth in the arms of the much-younger Nora leads to faking his death by disposing, in a fiery wreck, the body of a patient, Walter Bailey (John Ridgely) who just happened to croak in his office. It is such wildly implausible elements in the N. Richard Nash screenplay (based on a tale told by Paul Webster and Jack Sobell), and, the eventual sight of the cherub-esque Smith, later disfigured in a blaze of his own (karma’s a bitch) that unravel whatever potential Nora Prentiss had of becoming a deep and brooding noir thriller.

At just under two-hours, Nora Prentiss runs too long and thoroughly afoul of its wafer-thin premise. At least the Nash yarn doesn’t lay the blame for Richard’s kooky quest for youth at the feet of a shrewish wife. No, Richard’s ball and chain, Lucy (Rosemary DeCamp) is a noble woman, a little settled – perhaps, but forthright, supportive and sophisticated in her abilities to manage the household in Richard’s absence, even pulling her hubby out of the soup with their teenage daughter, Bonita (Wanda Hendrix), buying him a gift to give to her after he has forgotten ‘Bunny’s’ birthday. The cast here is adequate, but given precious little to do as director Sherman takes us on an extended Triptik through Nora and Richard’s foppish affair. Curious too, that this should happen quite by accident – literally. Nora is nearly run down by a car as Richard is exiting his downtown office. He rushes her to his examination room and, declaring her fit and fine, with only a slight bruise on her brow, wastes no time laying the groundwork for an infatuation, soon to derail everyone’s happiness into a purgatory of his own blindsided design.

At first, Lucy is oblivious to her husband’s philandering. They say the wife is always the last to know. But their teenage son, Gregory (Robert Arthur) suspects, after he wakes dad up at Lucy’s request and gets a brief verbal shellacking for his efforts. At work, Richard’s partner, Dr. Joel Merriam (Bruce Bennett) and their ever-devoted nurse, Miss Judson (Helen Brown) know something is afoot, especially after a routine surgery nearly results in a patient’s death, simply because Richard’s mind is too distracted by his double life. Nora, it should be pointed out, has knocked around with Cupid’s arrow firmly stuck in her back rather than her heart, mistreated by men who, so we are told, did not have her best interests in mind. But the man presently on her horizon, Phil Dinardo (Robert Alda) – the owner of the nightclub where Nora nightly performs – isn’t like these ex’s at all. In fact, he is devoted to her from afar. Too bad this nice gal wants what she only thinks is a nice guy, who, bizarrely turns out to be anything but. They also say it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for, and Richard has been leading a much too docile existence to be good to Nora. He is, instead, ripe for the sell-out.

Nora Prentiss is an odd duck in a dog and pony show, simply because, as a noir thriller it easily fails to thrill, while, as a romantic melodrama, it’s too watered down to create any sparks of passion. Richard’s decision to fake his own death by incinerating the late Walter Bailey is obscene, not only for the crime itself, but for his limited understanding that an upright gal like Nora would merely go along with it to remain at his side. After all, the one thing Richard had going for him, at least as far as Nora was concerned, he was level-headed, if not boring. Stripped of this quality, as the lustfully-driven guy, desperate to escape his past, Richard has devolved into precisely the sort Nora has thoroughly dreaded. It would all be substantial if our Nora had been the black widow, or even whitewashed as the modus operandi for Richard’s demise. However, after initially teasing us with hints she has deliberately faked her near-miss on the city street, just to get to know Richard better, the plot pulls back to infer our Nora Prentiss is just a hard-working, discerning gal, unfortunately, with a deplorable taste in men.

It is even more problematic that Lucy is not drawn from the stock, oft cartoony, cleave of the obsessive harpy, hell-bent on making her husband’s life as miserable as possible without allowing him even the prospect to get a divorce. Yet, this Lucy would have likely granted Richard a separation, had he asked for it. But Richard’s the weak sort who would rather elaborate on a cowardly scheme to run away from his responsibilities, instead of facing everything squarely to take his lumps on the chin for his middle-age dalliances with a younger woman.

The middle act of Nora Prentiss is a convolution of mishaps as Richard digs himself deeper into a hole from which, ultimately, he will never escape. He puts his wedding ring on the corpse, douses his own automobile in kerosene and pushes it over a cliff with Bailey’s body inside. Hooking up with Nora in Manhattan, having already absconded with a sizable chunk of his family’s life savings, Richard keeps his dark secret momentarily, living in sweat-soaked anxiety and fear of being discovered by his lover and the authorities. Predictably, everyone eventually learns the truth, especially after Richard allows his jealousy to run away with his already unraveling mind. He attacks Dinardo in a drunken rage, flees the scene and crashes his car. Another fiery explosion, some reconstructive surgery gone awry, and, ‘bingo’ – our Richard is the veritable picture of Dorian Gray, his outer appearance now the big reveal of his inner demons. A disfigured Richard is arrested for the murder of ‘Dr. Talbot’ even though a finger-print match reveals he is Dr. Talbot. To spare his former family any further emotional grief, Richard convinces Nora to allow him to take the rap for his own death and, at the drawn-out trial that follows, Richard is convicted and sentenced to death. A tearful Nora leaves the prison in shame, sadder-but-hopefully-wiser, only to find Phil Dinardo waiting to comfort her outside.

Nora Prentiss is so overwrought with cliché, it runs the risk of unravelling into wicked, hyper-sensitive spoof. Kent Smith, whose career was built upon archetypes of the awkward second-string love interest, squeakier clean than sexy, has bitten off much more than he can chew here. It makes no sense that Nora would be attracted to the ‘good doctor’ as he does not harbor an appeal beyond monetary status in a successful practice. So, is Nora a gold digger after position and money? Although Richard does buy her expensive gifts, and shows her a good time, Nora elects to forsake these luxuries after realizing her lover is much too cowardly to ask his wife for a divorce. A true noir femme fatale would have goaded her guy into more of the same, or perhaps, even have encouraged him to commit a murder for her benefit. But no – Nora aspires to be a good girl. Odd too, since it is her initial come-hither invitations that lead Richard down the garden path to his own self-destructiveness.

Again, it's the screenplay that falters, unable to clearly delineate who these characters are and how they ought to react in spurious situations. Nora begins as a tough-talking chanteuse. But then, she reverts to a tearful martyr. Richard appears as the hen-pecked husband, contented to live in the shadow of a more forthright wife, managing his lifestyle. But then, we discover Lucy is not the manipulative sort. Neither is she a cold fish, denying Richard love, nor the sort who would destroy his reputation upon learning he had strayed from the family fold. So, the real problem here is Richard – a man dissatisfied in life, despite seemingly to have everything a man could possibly want (money, a position, respect from his peers, a devoted family with two finely brought up children). Nora doesn’t seduce him. He becomes seduced in his own head by the prospect of breaking free from the constraints he has manufactured in his own heart and mind. Problem is, Richard’s a rather selfish milquetoast. He wants to wear the devil-may-care mantel of the stud. But does he want this for Nora, or simply to see himself as a ‘new’ man capable of anything for…love? In the end, Nora Prentiss falls apart. Its tale is a gumbo, made from oil and water, eventually to separate, rather than draw nearer its disparate plot points into one riveting tale of moral depravity.

Nora Prentiss arrives on Blu, via the Warner Archive (WAC) and in a 1080p transfer that is superior to its value as an entertainment. The B&W image is mostly solid, although there are several scenes that appear to have been sourced from elements several generations removed from an OCN. These moments are soft, somewhat blurry and lack the punchy contrast exhibited throughout 99% of this presentation. James Wong Howe’s cinematography is imaginative. When it does snap together this image exhibits solid contrast and an excellent level of fine detail throughout with a light smattering of film graining appearing indigenous to its source. The 2.0 DTS mono is solidly represented, with no hiss and pop. The only extra is a theatrical trailer. Bottom line: Nora Prentiss is a snore. If WAC had wanted to, it has an embarrassment of better-made Warner/MGM product at its disposal to fill this void: Mystery Street, Old Acquaintance, My Reputation, East Side West Side...to name a handful. Ann Sheridan, Kent Smith and Vincent Sherman have done superior work elsewhere. This isn’t the movie for which any of them ought to be remembered. The Blu is great. But the movie is not. Regrets.

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

1.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

0