shadowsandsatin

A few days after I saw Shed No Tears (1948) for the first time, I told my mother about the movie and recommended that she watch it.

After she did, she called me and said, “I just have one question. Why??”

And I told her, “Because it’s so bad, it’s good!”

This account may or may not be apocryphal, but there’s no denying two things about Shed No Tears: (1) It’s no masterpiece, and (2) I enjoyed it!

(Before I dive into this little confection from Equity Pictures, let me say that I’m highly likely to let a few – or more than a few – spoilers slip, so watch your step!)

In a nutshell, the film is about a man who fakes his death so that his wife can collect his insurance payout and the two of them can ride off into the Mexico City sunset together. What he doesn’t know is that he’s not exactly the apple of her eye – in fact, she’s got a whole pie on the side, if you get my drift. And she plans on using her faux-deceased hubby’s insurance money to jet off Honolulu with that pie.

Who’s who?

The husband in the film is Sam Grover, played by one of my favorite pre-Code/film noir straddlers, Wallace Ford (check him out, for instance, in Skyscraper Souls [1932] and Breaking Point [1950]). His wife, Edna, is played with gusto by June Vincent, who I know from Black Angel, her 1946 noir with Dan Duryea and Peter Lorre. And Edna’s side-fella is Ray Belden (Robert Scott, who, though you may not know it, you’ve seen if you’re familiar with Gilda [1946] – he played Gabe Evans, the “pretty” fella dancing with the title character shortly before she delivers her well-known “Bar Nothing” line).

Who else?

Others in the film are Sam’s son, Tom (Dick Hogan, whose final performance in his 12-year film career was as the murder victim in Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope [1948]); Tom’s fiancée, Marilyn (Elena Verdugo, who’s perhaps best recognized as the receptionist on TV’s Marcus Welby, M.D.); Lt. Hutton (Frank Albertson, who was Katharine Hepburn’s ne’er-do-well brother in Alice Adams [1935}, Sam “Hee-Haw”  Wainwright in It’s a Wonderful Life [1946], the owner of the $40 grand that Janet Leigh steals in Psycho [1960] and the mayor of Sweet Apple, Ohio, in Bye Bye Birdie [1963]). And in a significant role as Huntington Stewart is Johnstone White who, for reasons that I can’t fathom, is given the “Introducing” title in the credits even though he’d been in films for more than 10 years.

What’s the low-down about the plot?

Like many a noir, Shed No Tears starts out relatively simply, but grows more complex as it goes along. At the outset, Sam sets a hotel room on fire and tosses a corpse out of the window that’s wearing Sam’s watch and ring – as intended, the authorities think that Sam is the dead guy. Meanwhile, Sam takes a bus to Washington, D.C. – the plan is for Edna to collect the $50,000 life insurance policy on Sam and then join him in D.C. before they both start their new life together in Mexico. (By the way, $50,000 may not sound like much to finance a new life, but adjusting for inflation, it would come to more than $655,000 today. Not too shabby.)

As I mentioned earlier, Edna plans to double-cross Sam by taking his insurance money and disappearing with Ray. But a couple of things – or should I say people – stand in her way: Sam’s son, who doesn’t believe that Sam’s death was an accident, and Huntington Stewart, who Tom hires to look into the matter. And if that weren’t enough, Stewart is less interested in unearthing the truth about Sam’s demise than he is in snagging a piece of Sam’s insurance money for himself.

What’s bad about this movie?

I’m not gonna lie – Dick Hogan’s performance leaves a lot to be desired. It’s kinda like watching an animated block of wood. And I use the word “animated” loosely. A perfect example of his thespianic capabilities comes during a conversation Tom has with the private investigator, Stewart, who suggests that Edna and Ray may have conspired to kill Sam. Tom actually snaps his fingers and enthusiastically emotes: “So they could have each other and plenty of money besides! That’s it! We’ve got it!” Oh, brother! (And while I’m on the subject, Robert Scott, as Ray, is no Laurence Olivier either. But he does have nice dimples.)

Also, the plot has a tendency to veer into certain directions and then completely abandon them. There’s one scene, for instance, where Edna is visited by two representatives from her husband’s insurance company. One of the reps makes it clear that he’s not satisfied with the police’s account of Sam’s death: “Before we settle,” he tells Edna, “I’ll have to do a certain amount of investigating.” And he adds, rather ominously, that his report will be ready in about a week “if there are no disturbing difficulties.” We never see or hear from this dude again.

In another scene, Sam employs an interesting scheme to raise money for his return to Los Angeles from his Washington, D.C. hideout. He’s been renting a room in a house and he tells the housekeeper that the landlady no longer needs her services. With the other renters and the landlady at work for the day, Sam proceeds to contact a finance company that offers “easy way loans” on cars, furniture, and other items. It’s a kind of pawn shop that makes housecalls – and Sam arranges to turn over all of the furniture in the house – living room, dining room, kitchen, and four bedrooms – in exchange for a cash loan. But what did the landlady say when she arrived to a house completely void of furnishings? Did any of the neighbors notice that all of the furniture in the house was being removed? And did the housekeeper ever get her back pay? We’ll never know. The landlady, the housekeeper, and the furniture-bereft house are out of the picture – for good.

Speaking of good, what’s good about this movie?

For my money, it’s the triumvirate of June Vincent, Wallace Ford, and Johnstone White that transforms this low-budget stinker into a time-worthy yarn.

June’s Edna grabs your attention from the moment she appears on screen. She has a way of delivering her lines that reminds you of a refined diner waitress from Hackensack. But she’s fascinating to watch – able to go from zero to 60 on the emotional scale, cool as shaved ice when she has to be, and always ready with a smooth lie when she needs one. In case you’re not certain that Edna is a femme fatale of the first order (despite her decidedly non-femme fatale-ish name), the film tosses a couple of red flags your way early on.  The first comes after the hotel fire, when Sam is on his way to catch his Washington, D.C.-bound bus. He gives his wife $500 (nearly $7,000 in 2024 dollars) and when he asks her if that’s enough, she sullenly replies, “I guess so.” She then tells him she needs new clothes: “A widow has to wear black.” Minutes later, we get a couple more red flags. After Edna watches Sam’s bus pull away, she dismissively tosses her cigarette to the ground in a move that feels like a metaphor for her indifference toward her spouse. She then checks her reflection in a nearby mirror, removes her beret, reapplies her lipstick, and smoothes her hair, giving her curls an extra pat for good measure. There’s something about that pat that spells DANGER. Or maybe, DUPLICITOUS. Or words to that effect.

One thing about Edna, she can be as sweet as maple syrup or as hard as rock candy. And she perfectly demonstrates the latter quality in a scene late in the film where she squares off against Sam, delivering the following monologue: “I’ve got to kill you before you kill me. Because I despise myself for ever having had anything to do with you. Every time you came near me, I hated it. Whenever you touched me, it made me ill. Everything you did revolted me. I hated the way you let me push you around, the stupid way you sacrificed for me. Everything that would have been beautiful in anyone else, I loathed in you. But now I’m gonna fix it so I don’t ever have to see or think about you again.” (Whoa!)

As Edna’s put-upon hubby, Wallace Ford is off-screen for half the film, but when he’s there, he makes sure we know it. In the beginning, Sam comes off like a sap, asking Edna to write to him every day while he’s in D.C. and telling her he “must be daffy” about her to be involved in such a scheme. But Sam’s no dummy. It doesn’t take him long to figure out that Edna’s not the paragon of virtue he imagined her to be, and once he does – watch out. He grows a moustache that’s as transformative as Samson’s long mane and returns to Edna with nothing short of murder on his mind. Best of all, he’s always on an even, matter-of-fact keel – he doesn’t raise his voice or demonstrate even a modicum of anger, even when he tells Edna: “All I wanted was you. You were everything to me. There was a time when I thought I’d die if you ever left me. But now, I think I can get along all right without you. You’re through with me, and I don’t want you anymore. Very nice timing.”

The last member of this trio is Huntington Stewart, who strikes me as a mishmash of a low-rent Waldo Lydecker and, for some reason, Charlie Chan. He’s described by one character as “sort of eccentric,” and from the moment he opens his mouth, we understand why. We’re introduced to Stewart when Tom and his fiancée, Marilyn, go to meet with him. Marilyn walks into his office, with Tom entering a couple of seconds behind her. “My dear,” Stewart says, “You’re being followed. Did you know?” (Har.) And when Marilyn introduces Tom as her fiancé, Stewart offers: “You depress me deeply, Marilyn. However, I shall subject the young man to a thorough investigation and advise you whether to proceed with matrimony.” (Hee.) Literally every line out of this guy’s mouth is either some sort or quip or witticism, or else he’s tossing around phrases like “Machivellian machinations.” He undeniably incites the urge to roll one’s eyes on a regular basis; for instance, once he learns the name of Tom’s father, he asks him, “You are here, obviously, because there is some question in your mind concerning the circumstances of your father’s exit from this pleasant little world?” I mean, he could’ve just said, “You think your dad was murdered, huh?” But, no.

Still, there’s no denying that Huntington Stewart is different from any character in noir (or anywhere else, I’d wager) that you’re likely to come across. And when he and Edna go head-to-head, it’s an absolute gas. In fact, the exchanges between these two are the best thing about the movie – both full of snarky tones and bitter banter. They make me want to break out the popcorn and lean forward in my chair.

Other Shed My Tears Stuff

The film was based on the debut novel by Don Martin (who was described in the book’s dust jacket as “college bred and newspaper buttered”). Incidentally, if you’re interested in reading the source material, you can buy a copy of the book for a cool $1,500.00 from Abe Books and Biblio.com.

There’s a brief scene showing Sam on the bus to D.C.; seated next to him is an older woman who sees him looking at a wallet photo of Edna. The woman asks Sam if the woman is his daughter. After a look of chagrin flashes across his face, he replies, “My granddaughter. She’s studying surgery in Switzerland.” This exchange was unnecessary, but it made me laugh. Not only that, but I recognized the older woman from an episode of I Love Lucy (Season 2, Episode 19), where Lucy and Ethel are courting a club member for her vote for president, for which they’re both running. In the last scene, the club member has been invited by Ricky to his nightclub and he’s showering her with attention, even making her a part of one of his numbers. She’s delighted, but it turns out that she’s actually the mother-in-law of the coveted club member. The actress was played by Ida Moore, who started her career in silent films in the mid-1920s and went on to appear in such classics as To Each His Own (1946), The Dark Mirror (1946), and The Egg and I (1947).

You may not know the name of the actress who played the housekeeper for the home where Sam rented a room, but you’ll certainly recognize her face. She’s Mary Treen, and her extensive filmography included Kitty Foyle (1940) and It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), where she played Tilly. If you’re a Brady Bunch aficionado, you’ll also surely remember Treen from the episode where Alice leaves the family because the children think she’s a snitch and have given her the cold shoulder; she’s replaced by a stern-faced friend of Alice’s named Kay, who doesn’t play basketball with the boys or have impromptu dance parties with the girls. (“That was Alice. I’m Kay,” she explains.) Kay was played by Treen.

The skeptical insurance company representative who vowed to investigate Tom’s death was played by Paul Maxey. I remember him best from the 1952 noir The Narrow Margin, where he had a featured role as a portly train detective. He also had uncredited appearances in several other noirs, including They Won’t Believe Me (1947) and Ride the Pink Horse (1947). His first film was They Won’t Forget (1937), which also marked the debut of Lana Turner.

You can find Shed No Tears for free on YouTube; there’s also an ad-free version on Prime. If you like your noirs gritty and your femmes full of nasty charm, this is the movie for you. You only owe it to yourself to check it out – it’s so bad, it’s good!

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This post is part of the So Bad It’s Good Blogathon, hosted by Rebecca over at the Taking Up Room blog. Grab a snack, pour yourself something cold, and click here to discover some other films that are gems under shabby clothing. You’ll be glad you did.

Posted in Blog Events, Noir Films
Tags: blogathon, film, film noir, Ida Moore, Johnstone White, June Vincent, low budget noir, Mary Treen, movie-reviews, movies, reviews, Shed No Tears, So Bad It's Good Blogathon, Wallace Ford