Busted But Not Broken: Greylisted Actor Made Indy Noirs

Virginia Christine, Edward G. Robinson, “Nightmare” (1956).

Edward G. Robinson's testimony before the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) resulted in his being shunned by the major studios. Instead, he appeared in independently produced Poverty Row films

Film Noir: The Dark Side of Cinema XVII [Vice Squad / Black Tuesday / Nightmare] [Blu-ray]

By Paul Parcellin

He’s no matinee idol, but when Edward G. Robinson is on screen we can’t take our eyes off of him. Short in stature and chunky with a bulldog face, it’s hard to explain his magnetism. He’s got that special quality that makes great character actors, and few can rival him for sheer screen presence. Try to imagine “Double Indemnity” without Robinson’s cranky insurance adjustor Barton Keyes, or “Little Caesar” minus his Napoleonic crime boss Caesar Enrico Bandello. Unthinkable.

Robinson’s command of his craft is evident in the three-disc Blu-ray box set from Kino Lorber, “Film Noir: The Dark Side of Cinema XVII,” released just this year. In these films, Robinson plays dramatically different characters effortlessly, or at least makes it seem that way. 

In the many roles he played throughout his career he embodied the characters he portrayed, giving them distinct, memorable personalities, from meek Christopher Cross in “Scarlet Street” (1945) to conniving bully of a crime boss Johnny Rocco in “Key Largo” (1948).

This box set’s trio of films are modestly budgeted crime thrillers, unlike the bigger films he’d made before and during the war. These early to mid 1950s films were made after he was obliged to testify before the House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC). The committee was established to root out the alleged communist infiltration of society and the Hollywood film industry in particular. 

In his testimony, Robinson named some of his peers who were associated with the Communist Party. He admitted that he, too, was briefly associated with the party, but claimed that he was duped into participating. His testimony got him greylisted as opposed to blacklisted. The blacklist banned actors from making films in Hollywood. Major studios wished to avoid negative publicity, so they wouldn't hire the greylisted Robinson, either. But he found he could act in theater and make films with the much smaller Poverty Row studios. 

The films listed below were made while Robinson was still under greylist restrictions. Later in the decade he was able to regain his standing and work with the major studios again.

Robinson as Police Capt. “Barnie” Barnaby in “Vice Squad.”

“Vice Squad” (1953) — 88 minutes

There’s relatively little vice in “Vice Squad” despite the title, and it’s not really a noir. It’s more a police procedural, heist movie and tale of suspense all wrapped into one.

Police Capt. “Barnie” Barnaby (Edward G. Robinson) is hardly Dirty Harry, but he isn’t above using blackmail, entrapment, false arrest and unethical if not illegal searches for the greater good. Tactics that would never be tolerated today seem routine in this 1950s crime drama. 

Barnaby’s more controversial tactics are leavened with humor. The running gag is the arrest and rearrest of dour-faced “undertaker” Jack Hartrampf (Porter Hall). Hartrampf witnesses the murder of a police officer as he’s leaving his mistress’s apartment, so he dummies up lest his name get into the newspapers. Barnaby uses some creative arm twisting, including blackmail, to get the undertaker to spill what he knows. But, Robinson’s avuncular police captain makes it all seem rather harmless, unavoidable and clever.

Barnaby isn’t a hardened, cynical law man, but rather an optimist and a realist who seems to enjoy his work. He tells us he hopes for the best, but realizes that he’s in a position that tends to bring out the worst in everyone.

Paulette Goddard as Mona Ross.

His department always buzzes with activity and several different stories unfold as police search for the murderer. One involves an Italian count who might be a con artist, and another entails an informant’s hot tip about a bank robbery plot. There’s the occasional lineup of petty criminals, and odd characters pop in, such as Mr. Jenner (Percy Helton), who complains about the “shadows that get all over me whenever I walk down the street.” Ever the public servant, Barnaby gives everyone a fair hearing regardless of the plausibility of their story or their grip on reality.

In addition to the highly recognizable Percy Helton, a number of popular character actors fill the cast, including Lee Van Cleef, Barry Kelley, Adam Williams and Edward Binns. Co-star Paulette Goddard plays Mona, a madame who operates an escort service and feeds Barnaby tips on criminal activities. She’s allowed to operate her business on the wrong side of the tracks so long as she provides useful information. It’s just another relationship of many that skirts the edge of ethical propriety, but that’s the way things go in Barnaby’s world.

Robinson as gangster Vincent Canelli in “Black Tuesday.” 

“Black Tuesday” (1954) — 80 minutes

Crime bosses don’t come much meaner than Vince Canelli (Robinson), a gangster who snarls when he speaks. Robinson’s role is close to a reprise of his Johnny Rocco in “Key Largo,” yet, Vince is even less charming and perhaps more evil than Johnny, if that’s possible. Both films have criminals and hostages trapped in buildings with Robinson running the show and barking orders.

Vince has precious little regard for human life other than his own and that of his lady friend, Hattie (Jean Parker). We don’t see how much he really cares for her until the film’s final moments. For a few fleeting seconds we can empathize with the otherwise detestable Vince, but that wears off quickly.

Besides Hattie, everyone else around him is a useful cog in his machine and nothing else. His talent is making cohorts believe that he’ll give them a square deal, but anyone loyal to Vince pays a price for his or her misplaced allegiance.

As the film opens, Vince and his partner in crime, Peter Manning (Peter Graves), along with other condemned inmates, await execution on death row. The film is essentially a two-parter: a prison breakout and then a last stand in a warehouse with escapees and their hostages. The escape is absurdly well planned and executed, highly improbable and fun to watch.

Peter Graves as Peter Manning.

Manning has stashed away loot from a robbery he and Vince committed, in the process of which they killed a police officer. That’s what put them on death row. Manning is keeping his trap shut about the whereabouts of the cash because he knows better than to put his faith in Vince. As their time in captivity ticks by, the hostages learn the hard way that trusting the crime boss is risky at best. Among the detainees are a news reporter, a prison guard’s daughter and a clergyman.

Hattie complains to Vince, “Shouldn’t have brought the priest. Bad luck.” 

“For him,” Vince mutters.

Stunning black and white photography by Stanley Cortez anchors the film to the shadowy domain of noir and makes dramatic use of rather limited sets. Cortez also shot “The Night of the Hunter” (1955) and “The Magnificent Ambersons” (1942).

Eventually, the outside world intervenes and pressure builds, bringing the film to a stormy conclusion.

Kevin McCarthy in “Nightmare.”

“Nightmare” (1956) — 89 minutes

Crimes committed under the influence of hypnotism, alcohol and narcotics are the backbone of many a noir tale, especially in Cornell Woolrich’s dark fiction oeuvre. In “Nightmare,” based on a novel “And So To Death” by Woolrich, New Orleans clarinetist Stan Grayson (Kevin McCarthy) dreams he committed a murder. 

Woolrich’s novel was previously adapted into the film “Fear in the Night” (1947) starring DeForest Kelley, and that film as well as “Nightmare” were written and directed by Maxwell Shane.

As we witness his nightmare, waves of fog waft across the screen, a wailing orchestra plays a dramatic score before the action cuts to Stan jarred awake in his bedroom, clutching evidence from the scene of the imaginary crime. 

He recalls from his dream a mirrored room with lots of doors, and a murder committed with an ice pick.

He discovers thumb prints on his throat as he staggers around his cheap room, the shadow of a rotating ceiling fan hovers above him like a dark angel. 

He’s got scratches and is bloodied,  and he’s clutching an odd shaped key that he’s never seen before. “Was I going insane?” he wonders in voiceover.

These are classic Woolrich story elements: a morning-after hangover, a spotty memory of having done something awful, a guilt racked conscience and unexplained wounds. 

Kevin McCarthy and Robinson
in “Nightmare.”

He confides in his brother-in-law, police detective Rene Bressard (Robinson), who is at first skeptical of Stan’s story, but later begins to see things differently.

When Stan leads Rene and others to a house off the beaten path, it looks a lot like the place Stan described from his dream, and Rene is ready to snap the cuffs on him. A strong undercurrent of mind control from an unknown source flows through the movie, and Stan sinks into a deep depression, certain that his life has been ruined.

Rene has his hands full trying to make sense of the case, and the solution to the mystery stretches credulity to the breaking point. But the cast’s uniformly strong performances make us forget about plot holes in this impossibly tall tale. But, if the story followed a more logical path it wouldn’t be a Woolrich yarn. 

“The Dark Side of Cinema XVII” features informative, well researched commentary tracks by film historians Gary Gerani and Jason A. Ney. The scans all look and sound great. Edward G. Robinson fans and noir appreciators should add this to their library.

Feverish Dreams, Persecution Fantasies, Tormented Anti-Heroes: There’s Something About Cornell Woolrich’s Stories that Pulls Us in Like a Magnet — You’d Think it Would Do Just the Opposite

Kevin McCarthy, Gage Clarke, "Nightmare" (1956).

He Murders as He Sleeps!

Contains spoilers

By Paul Parcellin

When it comes to crafting stories of dread and entrapment, Cornell Woolrich stands out among his peers. His darkest work seethes with feverish, paranoid fantasies. Wrongly accused men, caged on death row or free and living under a stifling cloud of suspicion, are driven to prove their innocence. Visions of the noose, electric chair or gas chamber press on them. As clocks run down, hope of salvation evaporates like dew in afternoon sunlight. 

Cornell Woolrich

Of Woolrich’s distinctive writing style, Film Comment remarked, “Despite all the purple prose, tired rewrites, and preposterous plots that crop up in his fiction, perhaps no other writer handles suspense better, or gives it the same degree of obsessional intensity.” 

His novels and short stories were adapted into nearly 30 feature films, including Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rear Window” (1954), based on the 1947 Woolrich story “It Had to Be Murder,” and François Truffaut’s “The Bride Wore Black” (1968), based on the 1940 novel of the same title, credited to William Irish (a pseudonym of Woolrich). 

In Woolrich’s universe, the accused may or may not be guilty — at times, they themselves are unsure. Their minds may be clouded by narcotics and alcohol, their memories distorted by hypnotic suggestion. Tortured by thoughts of heinous acts they may have committed, protagonists find dark relief from their torments in theC prospect of a quick demise, be it by execution or suicide.

The suffocating claustrophobia of “Nightmare,” a novel by Woolrich as William Irish, is one such story. Adapted at least twice for the screen, “Fear in the Night” (1947) and “Nightmare” (1956), both directed by Maxwell Shane. The two films offer a Kafkaesque marriage of horror and the absurd. Improbable, fraught with coincidences and at times just plain weird, Woolrich’s tall tales resemble the disjointed reality of nightmares. Yet the stifling predicaments and persecution fantasies of Woolrich’s characters are as captivating as they are unsettling.

DeForest Kelley, "Fear in the Night" (1946).

“Fear in the Night” tells the story of bank teller Vince Grayson (DeForest Kelley), who dreams of murdering a man in a room full of mirrors. He investigates and finds that there's ample evidence that he did commit murder. But there may be a shadowy figure lurking behind the scenes.

In “Nightmare,” Clarinetist Stan Grayson (Kevin McCarthy) dreams he killed a man, then awakens to find evidence linking him to his imagined crime. His brother-in-law, New Orleans police detective Rene Bressard (Edward G. Robinson) is skeptical of Stan's story.

A strange looking door key, a button from a jacket or shirt and blood stains on Grayson’s clothes and person are the tantalizing clues he discovers after a night’s slumber. At first he believes that the button, key and blood materialized out of his dream. But in the light of day, the physical evidence that links him to a real murder is undeniable.  

 As the story dips into the irrational, we feel the protagonist’s growing terror as he begins to sense he’s losing his grip on sanity. In this strange and unpredictable world in which he finds himself, he and Bressard discover that the true perpetrator behind the crime, not fate, has set a perfect trap for him.

McCarthy, Edward G. Robinson, "Nightmare."

The opening sequences in both films are mirky and dream-like. Two men fight in a mirrored rooms. A mysterious woman supplies one of them with a sharp instrument and he kills the other and hides his body in a closet. Tracking down the facts is difficult since he can’t recall where the killing took place or how he got there. 

As pieces to the puzzle begin to come together we learn that hypnosis was the motivating force behind the crime. How the fall guy lands in so much trouble is more complex and difficult to swallow. Let’s just say that conspiracy plus coincidences play important roles in the story. 

Woolrich’s plots often stretch credulity to the breaking point, and another filmic adaptation of his story, “Phantom Lady” (1944), comes to mind — any number of others would be apt examples of Woolrich’s offbeat story plots, as well. Similar to “Nightmare” and “Fear in the Night” for its strange and uncanny events, the “Phantom Lady” storyline has an eerie similarity to the subconscious nocturnal wanderings of an unquiet mind. The plot involves a man falsely convicted of murder, and his loyal secretary’s obsessive search to find the woman who can back up the alleged killer’s alibi — a recurring theme in Woolrich’s work. 

Fay Helm, Alan Curtis, "Phantom Lady" (1944).

In the story, two women wear the same fashion accessory — identical chapeaus, a fashion faux pas that improbably helps set the story in motion. Murder and gaslighting follow, and the film boasts one of noir's wildest jam sessions, with hep-cat Elisha Cook Jr. performing an explosive drum solo with erotic overtones.

For the most part, Woolrich’s characters are realistic, ordinary folks, even if the stories that bring them to life display a reckless disregard for plausibility. While the stories may be fantastical, they seldom delve into abstract symbolism — well, not much, anyway. The mirrored room, for instance, is pretty trippy. Instead, we get a mostly straightforward, linear narrative whose weird coincidences might be more disturbing if the story wasn’t so entertaining.

You could say that Woolrich’s flights of fancy show a gutsy handling of the medium by a master at the top of his game. But it’s also notable that his literary output was fairly enormous. He was a writing machine who cranked out numerous novels, short stories and other texts. So, perhaps some of the stranger coincidences, creaky plot turns and major implausibilities were the byproduct of a writer working at a furious pace and hounded by deadlines. Sometimes, ready or not, you just have to get the thing out to the editor. 

Some might say that his work is flawed. But more rational, buttoned-down plots surely wouldn’t be as fun and entertaining as these. His work is pulp fiction that invites us to suspend disbelief as we climb aboard an uncoupled train car speeding downhill toward a perilous turn at the edge of a cliff.

Woolrich wrote about outsiders grappling with insurmountable problems and impossible odds, and likewise his solitary life was marked by tragedy and hardship. After his mother's passing in his mid-50s, he struggled with diabetes and alcoholism. His health continued to decline, and he eventually lost a leg to gangrene. His life was cut short when he died of a stroke at the age of 64 in 1968.

As for “Fear in the Night” and “Nightmare,” both made by budget-conscious Pine-Thomas Productions, Paramount’s B-picture division, DeForest Kelley’s restrained performance in “Fear in the Night” is stronger than that of Kevin McCarthy, who is more on the histrionically cranky side in “Nightmare.” Edward G. Robinson turns in a reliably solid performance in the latter, however, and both films are well worth your viewing time.

One American Author’s Writings Inspired Multiple Films Noir, Yet His Name Is Less Well Known Than Other Top Noir Storytellers of His Generation

Edward G. Robinson, “Night Has a Thousand Eyes” (1948).

By Paul Parcellin

By any measure, Cornell Woolrich was a virtual human writing machine who cranked out fiction at a feverish pace. He’s credited with 22 novels under his name, 17 more under the pseudonym William Irish, two more as George Hopley (including one of the most memorable, “Night Has a Thousand Eyes”), hundreds of stories and scores of scripts for film, TV and radio.

An American author of crime fiction, suspense, horror novels and short stories, Woolrich is best known for his work in the noir genre, and his stories have been adapted into films such as “Rear Window,” “The Leopard Man,” and “Black Angel.” It’s a quirk of fate that such a prolific, influential writer should dwell in the shadows, behind authors such as Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett and Erle Stanley Gardner. But Woolrich’s life and career were unlike those of his literary peers.

Cornell George Hopley Woolrich was born in New York City in 1903. He was an only child and his parents separated when he was young. He lived for a time in Mexico with his father before returning to New York to live with his mother, Claire Attalie Woolrich. He showed an early interest in writing and began submitting stories to magazines while in high school.

After graduation he worked as a journalist and advertising copywriter. He attended Columbia University but left in 1926 without graduating when his first novel, “Cover Charge,” one of his six jazz-age novels, was published. 

A short story, “Children of the Ritz,” won Woolrich a $10,000 first prize in a competition organized by College Humor and First National Pictures, which led to screenwriting work in Hollywood for First National. But during his tenure there he never managed to get any screen credits. He decided to pick up where he left off as an author, and he and his mother returned to New York. 

When he couldn’t find a publisher for his seventh jazz-age novel he transformed himself into a pulp writer. He began writing novels and short stories under the pen names William Irish and George Hopley. His stories were published in magazines such as Black Mask and Thrilling Mystery, and he also began to publish novels.  

His work was often dark and atmospheric and he explored themes of alienation, guilt and obsession. A sense of dread permeates his work. Some of his heroes suffer amnesia and find themselves in an alien world. A recurring theme is the hero’s quest to discover his true identity. Often what he finds would have been better left unexplored. 

Some are falsely accused of murder but are terrifyingly unsure of their innocence. Most live in a nightmarish world where they struggle for truth while dodging a cloud of persecution hovering over them. At times, paranoid delusions control their very being. The air is rife with elaborate conspiracies in which they’ve somehow become entangled. Surprise plot twists lead to radical shifts in a story’s direction. 

Woolrich was unafraid to hug the line between plausibility and untenable fantasy. His novels and short stories have been called among the finest examples of suspense writing by any American author. The obsessive exploration of dark psychological themes in Woolrich’s work has prompted some to call him the Edgar Allan Poe of the 20th century.

By the 1930s, Hollywood was again interested in his work, resulting in the romantic comedy “Manhattan Love Song” (1934) based on a Woolrich novel, and action film “Convicted” (1938), adapted from a short story. But it would be his pulp crime work that became his hottest properties and the stories for which he’d be most remembered. 

Cornell Woolrich. 

Woolrich began to receive wider recognition in the 1940s. Some of his most famous works from this period include “The Black Alibi,” “Deadline at Dawn,” and “Phantom Lady.”

In later years his writing made him wealthy, but he and his mother lived in a series of seedy hotel rooms, including the squalid Hotel Marseilles apartment building in Harlem, among a group of thieves, prostitutes and lowlifes that would not be out of place in Woolrich's dark fictional world. They lived there until his mother's death on Oct. 6, 1957, which prompted his move to the slightly more upscale Hotel Franconia, 20 West 72nd Street near Central Park.

Of his 58 IMDB credits for films based on his writings, Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rear Window” (1954), adapted from Woolrich’s “It Had to Be Murder,” is probably the most celebrated. Other films based on his work include “The Leopard Man” (1943), “Phantom Lady” (1944) and Francois Truffaut’s “The Bride Wore Black” (1968). 

Top actors of the day played roles in those films. Burgess Meredith in “Street Of Chance” (1942), based on Woolrich’s “Black Curtain”; Edward G. Robinson in “Night Has A Thousand Eyes” (1948), and Jimmy Stewart and Grace Kelly in “Rear Window” (1954).

Despite his success, life for him was far from ideal. After his mother died in 1957, Woolrich went into a sharp physical and mental decline. A reclusive figure, his personal life was often troubled — he dedicated "The Bride Wore Black," which he wrote under the pseudonym William Irish, to his Remington Portable typewriter. 

After years of depression he’d let a minor foot injury turn into gangrene and had to have the leg amputated. Wheelchair bound and shrunk to 89 pounds, he was found dead in his room at the Sheraton-Russell on Park Ave. on Sept. 25, 1968. He’s buried along with his mother at Ferncliff Cemetery and Mausoleum in Hartsdale, N.Y.

Here is a sampling of films noir and mysteries based on Woolrich’s writing:

Burgess Meredith, “Street of Chance” (1942).

Street of Chance (1942), based on the novel “The Black Curtain”

Frank Thompson (Burgess Meredith) awakens to find that he's lost his memory. He slowly puts the pieces of his life together and discovers that he has a second identity, and that he's been accused of a murder that he can't remember committing.

Phantom Lady (1944) based on the novel of the same title. 

It's a no-no to be seen in public wearing the same accessory as another. Identical chapeaus roil the waters in “Phantom Lady" (1944), a story of murder, gaslighting and fashion faux pas. The film also boasts one of noir's wildest jazz band scenes, to boot.

The Mark of the Whistler (1944) based on a short story. 

A drifter claims the money in an old bank account by impersonating someone else with the same name. Soon he finds himself the target of a man with ties to the impersonated man.

Deadline at Dawn (1946) based on the novel. 

Sailor Alex Winkley (Bill Williams) and dance-hall girl June Goffe (Susan Hayward) spend a long night trying to solve a murder. He woke up with a pocketful of cash he received from the victim. Now he's only got until daybreak to figure it out.

Dan Duryea, June Vincent, Peter Lorre, “Black Angel” (1946).

Black Angel (1946), based on a novel of the same title.

Alcoholic pianist Martin Blair (Dan Duryea) is convinced that a heart-shaped brooch is a crucial clue in the investigation of his ex-wife's murder. Suspicion builds around dodgy nightclub owner Mr. Marko (Peter Lorre). But darker truths emerge.

The Chase (1946), based on the novel “The Black Path of Fear.”

Chuck Scott (Robert Cummings) gets a job as chauffeur to tough guy Eddie Roman (Steve Cochran), but Chuck's involvement with Eddie's fearful wife, Lorna (Michèle Morgan) becomes the stuff of nightmares.

Fall Guy (1947) based on the story “Cocaine.”

Tom Cochrane (Leo Penn'), full of dope (cocaine) and covered with blood, is picked up by the police. Tom only recalls meeting a man in a bar and going to a party. But when the body of a murdered girl turns up, Tom must act fast to clear his name.

The Guilty (1947) based on the story “He Looked Like Murder.”

Two guys sharing an apartment meet twin girls (both Bonita Granville). One's sweet, the other — not so much so. The nice one is murdered and her boyfriend is accused of the crime.

Robert Emmett Keane, DeForest Kelley, “Fear in the Night” (1946). 

Fear in the Night (1947) based on the story “Nightmare.”

Bank teller Vince Grayson (DeForest Kelley) dreams of murdering a man in a room full of mirrors. He investigates and finds that there's ample evidence that he did commit murder. But there may be a shadowy figure lurking behind the scenes.

The Return of the Whistler (1948) based on the story “All at Once, No Alice.”

On the eve of his marriage, a young man's fiancée disappears. He hires a private detective to help him track her down, but soon finds himself entangled in a web of lies, intrigue and murder revolving around his fiancée's dead ex-husband and his wealthy, corrupt family.

I Wouldn't Be in Your Shoes (1948) based on a story of the same title.

Vaudeville hoofer Tom Quinn (Don Castle) chucks his shoes at a noisy alley cat. But when his cash laden neighbor turns up dead, Tom's footprints are at the crime scene. A police detective (Clint Judd) tries to find the real killer.


Night Has a Thousand Eyes (1948) based on the novel of the same title.

Phony mentalist John Triton (Edward G. Robinson) discovers one night that he has developed real supernatural powers, but they bring about little more than misery and alienation from the people he cares about most.

The Window (1949) based on a short story. 

Young Tommy Woodry (Bobby Driscoll) witnesses his neighbors kill a drunken sailor, but no one believes him. When Tommy is left home alone the murderous neighbors pay him a visit. They aim to silence him for good, and he's left to fend for himself.

No Man of Her Own (1950) based on the novel “I Married a Dead Man.”

A pregnant woman adopts the identity of a railroad-crash victim and starts a new life with the woman's wealthy in-laws, but is soon blackmailed by her devious ex.

The Earring (1951) based on the story “The Death Stone.”

When a woman goes to see an ex-boyfriend who blackmails her, she leaves behind an earring and when she returns to retrieve it, she finds that he has been murdered.

The Trace of Some Lips (“La huella de unos labios”) (1952) based on the story “Collared).”

When her father dies mysteriously, a young woman is protected by an acquaintance of his, who takes her to live in his house, where she suffers the abuse of his niece.

If I Should Die Before I Wake (1952), based on a story of the same title.

Young Lucio Santana’s (Néstor Zavarce) dad is a detective working on the serial killings of local children. Lucho makes friends with a girl who tells him that a man gives her free lollipops. She makes Lucho vow never to tell anyone. But then that vow is tested. 

Don’t Ever Open That Door (1952) based on the stories “Somebody on the Phone” and “Humming Bird Comes Home.”

Two separate episodes that have in common the door that separates good from evil. In the first segment, "Alguien al teléfono,” Ángel Magaña tries to avenge the death of his sister, a girl who commits suicide over gambling debts. In the second, "El pájaro cantor vuelve al hogar,” Roberto Escalada is a former inmate who whistles when commits crimes and returns home where he is expected by his blind mother, who believes he has reformed.

Rear Window (1954) based on the story “It Had to Be Murder.”

Recuperating photographer L. B. “Jeff" Jefferies (James Stewart) has nothing to do but watch his neighbors across the courtyard as his leg mends. He notices odd things occurring in Lars Thorwald’s (Raymond Burr) apartment. Sinister things.


Obsession (1954) based on short story “Silent as the Grave.”

Helene and Aldo are trapeze artists in a circus. Aldo is injured and has to be replaced by Alex, his former partner who knows too much about him. Alex is murdered and Helen is convinced that her husband, Aldo, committed the crime. But another man is accused of the crime.

Nightmare (1956) based on a short story.

Clarinetist Stan Grayson (Kevin McCarthy) dreams he killed a man, then awakens to find evidence linking him to his imagined crime. His brother-in-law, New Orleans police detective Rene Bressard (Edward G. Robinson) is skeptical of Stan's story.