Movie Review: The Damned Don’t Cry (1950) directed by Vincent Sherman
Someone may be getting rich off this Oklahoma oilfield, but it’s sure not Ethel Whitehead (Joan Crawford). She, her husband Jim (Morris Ankrum) and son Timmy live in her parents’ house, and they’re still barely getting by. Jim isn’t getting promotions or raises, and the only “luxury” he thinks they can afford is his life insurance policy. So he flips his lid when he learns that Ethel has put a down payment on a bicycle for their child so that at least one family member can experience joy. His attempt to get Timmy to return the bike results in a fatal traffic accident. It’s not surprising that this is the last straw for Ethel, who lights out for the big city.
Like many women who spent their adult lives as housewives, Ethel soon discovers that the only things she has to get a job with are her looks (she cleans up real good), poise and moxie. She quickly moves from retail clerk to stocking model. Unfortunately, being a corporate model comes with “entertaining” important clients, but on a side note, they tip well for her…services. Ethel crosses paths with her company’s certified public accountant, Martin Blackford (Kent Smith) and takes a shine to him.
She soon learns that Martin is way better at his job than the value his current employer places on him (he’s not much better off than Jim was.) But he’s more pliable than Jim, and Ethel is able to hook him up with some higher paying customers.
Problem for Martin is, these customers are “legitimate businessmen”, headed by George Castleman (David Brian) and they desperately need a real accountant to compensate for the fact that all their normal bookkeepers came up through the criminal ranks. While Ethel likes Martin as a friend, she feels he’s “too good for her” so wangles a position as George’s mistress.
So that she can be of more use to the organization, George arranges for Ethel to be trained as a socialite under the name Mrs. Lorna Hansen Forbes. Her ability to move among the upper crust is greatly enhanced. Finally, she’s living the life she wanted. But then George learns that his underling Nick Prenta (Steve Cochran) may be attempting to go solo in his western district and sends Lorna to spy on him.
Tragedy ensues.
This film noir was very loosely based on the real-life affair of Virginia Hill and gangster Bugsy Siegel. It’s very much a star vehicle for Joan Crawford, and after the first few minutes establishing the aftermath of her trip west, the camera is seldom off her for long.
It’s made very understandable why Ethel leaves her home; Jim is an ass, and Ethel’s father is unsupportive to the point of emotional abuse. Only the child kept her in the marriage, and the tragedy gives her reason to bail out. We do see some signs that she’s actually mourning Timmy, still, and it’s revealed that she sent her parents money once she started making it, only to have her father refuse it.
She wants to help Martin succeed in life, and get ahead herself, but she doesn’t realize until too late the corrosive effects of working in organized crime. Martin is by the end not just helping the mob manage their money flow, but actively helping in murder, and so is Lorna, whatever she really meant to be doing.
It’s a fast-paced story with plenty of excitement, and shot well in the Republic film noir style.
Content note: Death of a child, murder. Emotional, verbal and physical abuse. It’s very heavily implied (Hays Code restrictions) that Ethel is engaging in prostitution and later just extramarital sex. George engages in overt sexism and is unfaithful to his wife. This is strong stuff for 1950, older teens on up.
Joan Crawford makes or breaks the film for viewers–if you like her acting, it’s dynamite, if you don’t then it’s mud. Recommended to film noir fans.
