Robert Mitchum's character obviously didn't take his own advice noted in my summary line above. You can read that two different ways - he decided to be an involved bystander once Diane Tremayne (Jean Simmons) worked her seedy tentacles into his psyche. But on the flip side, even if he had remained the innocent bystander, he would have wound up getting entangled in Tremayne's demented scheme anyway.
The thing that really puzzled this viewer was Frank Jessup (Mitchum) agreeing to marry Tremayne in her hospital bed on the advice of attorney Barrett (Leon Ames). The way Barrett framed it had to do with a sympathy angle the press would have taken to treat the murder of Catherine Tremayne (Barbara O'Neil) and her husband. Even for the early Fifties, I don't know if that ploy would have worked; today the National Enquirer would make mincemeat of the argument. Can you just imagine the headline?
While watching, I was questioning whether or not it would be possible to rig a car to go in the opposite direction intended but the courtroom scene did a pretty good job of explaining things. Still, one has to envision Miss Tremayne crawling around under the vehicle to rig the throttle reactor spring and remove the cotter pin from the gear shaft assembly. That mental picture doesn't jive with Tremayne's demeanor for most of the story, so I guess one has to accept it on faith. Another element of that trial scene managed to bug me too - was there ever a time a juror could stand up during proceedings and begin asking questions?
What this all boils down to, and I didn't see any other reviewer for the picture mention it, but to me, Diane Tremayne was as insane as her attorney intimated when she showed up to write out her confession following the acquittal. She took a perverse pleasure out of making the lives of others miserable while cooking up her own twisted form of revenge on Catherine because of the way the older woman treated Diane's father. Though the movie certainly qualifies for it's classification as film noir, it turns out that the femme fatale of the piece was actually a lunatic.
The thing that really puzzled this viewer was Frank Jessup (Mitchum) agreeing to marry Tremayne in her hospital bed on the advice of attorney Barrett (Leon Ames). The way Barrett framed it had to do with a sympathy angle the press would have taken to treat the murder of Catherine Tremayne (Barbara O'Neil) and her husband. Even for the early Fifties, I don't know if that ploy would have worked; today the National Enquirer would make mincemeat of the argument. Can you just imagine the headline?
While watching, I was questioning whether or not it would be possible to rig a car to go in the opposite direction intended but the courtroom scene did a pretty good job of explaining things. Still, one has to envision Miss Tremayne crawling around under the vehicle to rig the throttle reactor spring and remove the cotter pin from the gear shaft assembly. That mental picture doesn't jive with Tremayne's demeanor for most of the story, so I guess one has to accept it on faith. Another element of that trial scene managed to bug me too - was there ever a time a juror could stand up during proceedings and begin asking questions?
What this all boils down to, and I didn't see any other reviewer for the picture mention it, but to me, Diane Tremayne was as insane as her attorney intimated when she showed up to write out her confession following the acquittal. She took a perverse pleasure out of making the lives of others miserable while cooking up her own twisted form of revenge on Catherine because of the way the older woman treated Diane's father. Though the movie certainly qualifies for it's classification as film noir, it turns out that the femme fatale of the piece was actually a lunatic.