
Bummer about the ending, where everyone suddenly gets all one-dimensionally virtuous. It would have been amazing to see Andrews walk off knowing he was going to have to be tormented by his dirty little secret for the rest of his life. If you listen very carefully, you can hear some studio executive muttering about the movie needing to have a moral message. Ugh.
Nice moments in Ben Hecht's fat-free script, which manages to be both debonair and hardboiled:
Gene Tierney, the girl: Shouldn't we call the police?
Dana Andrews, the cop: I suggest we leave the police out of this.
One of Tierney's girlfriends, offering advice in a Joisey accent thick as Sunday gravy: "So he won the war and freed the slaves. Does that entitle him to spend the rest of his life drinking barrels of whiskey and punching girls in the nose?"
Tierney: But if he's innocent . . .
Andrews: That doesn't always help.
And, most quotable of all: "How was I supposed to know he had a silver plate in his head?"
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