Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950) 

After the success of Laura (1944), Dana Andrews, Gene Tierney, and Otto Preminger teamed up to make this brilliantly crafted noir gem. The film resonates hard with me, as its focal point is not so much a murder, or an investigation, but the hate one man has for crime, and the ultimate fear that he'll wind up just like his hoodlum father. Much more depth than one might expect, but well with in the means of noir, thanks to a brilliant script by Ben Hecht, this film manages to make turns without going to ridiculous suspense heights. It was made before Preminger became the defiant antagonist to the Hollywood censors so the content pretty much plays it straight, but there are a few more punches thrown than the average film.

Dana Andrews plays the son of a hood, and a man that hates this more than anyone. Anyone who grew up with a jailbird, a deadbeat, alcoholic, or abusive father knows that this subject is much broader, and far ahead of it's time. Andrews is matched by the loving and extremely strong relationship between Tierney and her on screen father, the man who winds up getting blamed for the murder. The picture starts rather simply enough, there's a dice game, there's a big winner, there's a fight, and then the camera leaves us. It isn't until Paine is trying to get a hold of the dead man on the phone that we realize he didn't knife him. Sure Andrews' Mark Dixon was willing to blame the mob boss who got started by Dixon's father, but that seemed personal and unfounded. It is during Paine's accidental death that things really begin to take shape. Mark has to cover up the body because he's already been demoted, for roughing up thugs, and now with a phone call two minutes too late he is a murderer, and his first instinct is to cover up, and Mark does such a great job he never once is made a suspect, his father would have been proud indeed. It is this fact that makes Mark unable to live with what he's done. Killing a man isn't what bothers him, it's hiding it that shows him he isn't the man he wished he could be.

Tierney is absolutely gorgeous in this film, and although her role is clearly that of a supporting one, she acts as a conscience for the film. Mark is making progress through her. It is with her support and eventual love that he discovers he isn't his father and never could be, despite being one shot away from fulfilling his own death wish.

This type of complexity can be expected from Preminger who made a career out of making films other people wouldn't touch. I'm liable to run off again about another hidden masterpiece, but let's just say the film is well worth discovering. Perhaps Laura is a better film, but few if any noir films can top it. Where the Sidewalk Ends is still a little scene gem of a movie, complete with stark lighting, great character actors, and a powerful subtext.

Grade A-