According to Aristotle, our characters are the result of our conduct. Supposing that to be true, what better way then to arrive at the measure of an unknown individual than to delve into what they have done. Chicago Deadline (1949) takes that assertion as its premise and runs with it. It’s something of a retrospective approach to storytelling, traveling further into the past than into the future, resulting in a story which has perhaps moved only a few paces forward by its conclusion in contrast to its frequent and lengthy sorties into what went before. As such, it lends itself well to the detective or mystery story and succeeds on that level while falling short when it comes to the broader question of exploring the character of the woman whose spirit haunts the protagonist and the picture as a whole.

Chicago Deadline is a film of questions. Who was Rosita Jean d’Ur? How and why did she come to die in a cheap boarding house in Chicago? What is the significance of the notebook she left in her purse? And what of all the names and numbers contained within its pages? All of those questions are raised inside the first few minutes and most of them are answered by the end of the movie, some more satisfactorily than others. On the surface, the first question ought to be the easiest to tackle. In a sense, it is as the basic background of Rosita (Donna Reed) is established quite rapidly. Her body is chanced upon by reporter Ed Adams (Alan Ladd) and, as would be the case with any newsman worth the name, he is mildly intrigued at first, especially when he notices the crammed notebook she kept. As he starts to casually make his way through that book, out of idle curiosity as much as anything at this stage, he is struck by the fact that his calls to the numbers listed elicit a range of responses, from suspicion and mild panic to outright hostility. If the varied reactions weren’t enough, the eclectic nature of the names and their social standing add a deeper layer of interest – Rosita apparently had the ear, as well as the numbers, of all types, from the upper reaches of society to the lowlifes circling the gutter. A spectrum as broad as that commands attention in itself, and then a growing number of people named in Rosita’s little book begin to turn up dead…

I’ve seen Chicago Deadline compared to Otto Preminger’s Laura, mainly due to the fact it involves an investigator researching a dead woman’s past although here the questions of identity and obsession are absent. While this makes it a much less emotionally complex piece of work, there is enough in the concept to hold the attention. It is, after all, a well constructed mystery. Lewis Allen was no Preminger, but he was more than competent, knew how to shoot attractively and made a number of highly entertaining movies. He makes sure this flashback heavy production with a plot that grows increasingly convoluted as it goes along remains lucid. The basic thrust of the narrative never gets lost among the switches and turns of the plotting and he blends in a sprinkling of suspense, atmosphere, and gentle melancholy as required. As I said at the top of this piece, the movie works fine on those terms. However, it does not manage to get across a true sense of who Rosita really was. We see her, via the memories of those who knew her, move through the stages of her life and from one relationship to another without getting a strong handle on what made her tick. She appears to have meant different things to different people yet, by the end, I had no sense of which of those contrasting impressions was the real one. Perhaps that was the intention?

Alan Ladd was at his peak around this time with a string of good performances behind him and plenty of variety still ahead. That laconic, self-contained quality of his was often employed in tough guy parts and while I can see why, I also think his quiet introspection expressed a powerful empathy, a sort of instantly recognizable and tacit decency. His character follows up the story of Rosita not only because it is his job but also because the pitiful end of a human life touched something inside him. In short, Ed Adams experiences an emotional itch that has to be scratched and Ladd was able to capture that. Donna Reed is fine too as Rosita, but the writing never gives her enough to work with – she is still largely a cipher at the end of the movie, clearly exploited yet curiously lacking that spark that must surely have been present to have drawn so many to her in life. I’m left wishing June Havoc had been featured more prominently in the movie. She was excellent in her scenes with Ladd, knowing, weary and funny all at once. Arthur Kennedy does some nicely judged work as Rosita’s brother even though he too only appears intermittently. Berry Kroeger portrays another of those reptilian types he excelled at as the principal villain, and there are nice turns, silky and nervy respectively, from Gavin Muir and Shepperd Strudwick.

Chicago Deadline was only viewable in extremely poor quality for a long time, so poor in fact that it was a chore to be endured rather than a movie to be enjoyed. However, Kino have since released it in one of their film noir collections – along with Iron Man and The Mystery of Marie Roget. As a result, what is available to watch now is streets ahead of those dreadful, blurry prints of the past. All in all, it is an absorbing noir mystery, briskly and professionally directed by Lewis Allen and anchored by a solid Alan Ladd performance. It’s by no means perfect and I’m not sure it achieves all it sets out to do. Bosley Crowther, a man who rarely seemed to sleep in a bed with a right side, was sour on it. Nevertheless, I think most noir and/or mystery fans will get something out of it.

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