This film noir has an endless supply of sweets for the discriminating film goer---Of all of the older movies I have seen, this is the one that stands alone as the penultimate movie that can never be made better--Fred MacMurray's perfect role, and what Barbara Stanwyck does with minimalist mannerisms is genius---top the movie with Edward G Robinson being, well, Edward G Robinson and you have the bestest ever film noir--yes, bestest is not a word, but mere words cannot describe the experience of viewing this movie on the big screen, and as you leave the theatre with your baby, pull out a heater and make sure you light it with your thumb, cuz you'll "need" a smoke and a stiff drink after this one, to calm your murderous thoughts!

If you are a noir fan then this film is an absolute must see. The screenplay itself is a work of art in its character construction, plot structure and dialogue which is delivered by an ensemble of first class actors divying up first class performances. Barbra Stanwyck as the deadly, smouldering, scheming Phyllis Dietrichson turns in a performance that is right up there with Mary Astor's Brigid O'Shaughnessy. Fred McMurray delivers a performance of a smart but desperately lovelorn patsy and Edward G. Robinson is perfect in the role of Barton Keyes and just about steals the moment every time he appears on screen.I personally love a good Noir film and this is right up there with the best of them. Billy Wilder should be proud of this work even though the Academy didn't see it fit to reward him for his efforts, however I personally think this film is an absolute winner.

Finally! I've stumbled upon a film noir, in an admittedly short journey, that I can safely say is Great!It'd be easy to assume that the stupendous Billy Wilder, who is currently batting 1.000 for me, is to blame, but it *may just be* the much-publicized Raymond Chandler, who I had not previously had the pleasure of coming into contact with, who deserves the credit. Who am I kidding; of course shared with Billy.Who I *have* seen from before, are the three main actors - in three separate films - all making improvements here ranging from meh to good (MacMurray), okay to really good (Stanwyk), and really good to great (Robinson).To give brief thoughts on the two making changes that I found to be the most eye- catching - Fred & Edward (sorry Barbara, you still killed it) - : Fred's stiff presence is *far* better suited for a 40s noir than a 60s Romantic Dramedy ('The Apartment'), where he was noticeably out-of-place when next to the natural Shirley MacClaine and the vibrant Jack Lemmon. There *are* some issues present, minor however, in that some of the emotions he claims to be feeling don't always seep through his often emotionless exterior. I say minor as this isn't always the case, ultimately he's one smooth momma- poppa.As for Edward G. Robinson, his performance here *was* better, in my opinion, but not vastly so than his one in 'Scarlet Street'. Why I bring him up is to point out his superb range, visible when contrasted with his performance in said other film. His ability to convincingly go from frail and pathetic to dominant and relentless is beyond impressive. What a talent he was.Of course they alone (the fantastic Barbara included) are not what make the picture great. No, not by a long shot. They are but enhancing the on-its-own entrancing tale. To slightly change the film's tagline, which speaks on the centered immoral lovers, to express my views: From the moment they met it was GOLD!Something I found strange in retrospect, was that I was subtlety rooting for the aforementioned lovers - strange, considering I'd never advocate for the things they were doing. My way of discovering this was due to me feeling the impact of the "Oh no" moments - if I wouldn't be slightly on their side I would actually be hoping for their demise. Instead, I was nervous, almost as much as MacMurray, whenever they hit a bump in the road during their *impressively* calculated trip; singularly when that bump came in the form of Robinson's character, the short and aggressive ("Like a little Chihuahua") Keyes. I have a couple of theories as to why this is, but nothing concrete. A second watch is required, because at the moment, I just don't know.What I do know is that every new road the film took me down, with the regretful voice narrating our journey, was better than the last. And even having known where it would eventually land, due to this being produced during the Hays Code, I still was enamored, up to the last second. That takes skill. Though they may have intensely disliked one another (which makes the success of the story all the more impressive), Billy and Raymond sure were one helluva duo.

One of the earliest example of Film Noir. The third film in Hollywood by Billy Wilder that he co-wrote with Raymond Chandler who brought the hard boiled dialogue to this thriller. This film made Wilder's name.Fred MacMurray is the insurance salesman who falls for the femme fatale with the anklet, Barbara Stanwyck. Fatally wounded he tells his tale in flashback, confessing to a Dictaphone so the company's investigator, Edward G Robinson will know that the guy across the desk was the murderer.Stanwyck was the nurse who might have bumped off the first wife and then married widower, an oil tycoon. Now bored or just wants to be on her own with the wealth, she wants to get rid off the husband. MacMurray is smitten enough to help her do the deed. The proceeds of the accidental death insurance policy she has just taken out is I guess just a bonus. Once the husband is dead he realises that he is a dead man walking.This is a cleverly constructed thriller. It really is a relationship between MacMurray, Robinson and Stanwyck. At the end it is Robinson he lets down.MacMurray is the every-man, the insurance salesman good at his job but bored and wants to runaway with a hot woman. Stanwyck is the cold, icy one. You know she is using MacMurray, he is just a sap to her. The film belongs to Edward G Robinson, the bloodhound who knows all the tricks in the books and he has volumes of them on his shelving.