Murder, My Sweet Page #7

Synopsis: This adaptation of the Raymond Chandler novel 'Farewell, My Lovely', renamed for the American market to prevent filmgoers mistaking it for a musical (for which Powell was already famous) has private eye Philip Marlowe hired by Moose Malloy, a petty crook just out of prison after a seven year stretch, to look for his former girlfriend, Velma, who has not been seen for the last six years. The case is tougher than Marlowe expected as his initially promising enquiries lead to a complex web of deceit involving bribery, perjury and theft, and where no one's motivation is obvious, least of all Marlowe's.
Director(s): Edward Dmytryk
Production: Warner Home Video
  1 win.
 
IMDB:
7.6
Rotten Tomatoes:
93%
APPROVED
Year:
1944
95 min
739 Views


I could guess

you thought he might kill Marriott.

But when you found me out there

in the dirt, you thought I was your father.

- Please, let's go. I'm awfully tired.

- Okay.

You know, that's a cute nose,

even if it is crooked.

It isn't really crooked. It has a bump

where I got hit by a baseball.

Right there.

I was playing shortstop

for the 7th grade, and...

I'm a pretty good guesser.

Your father really loves Helen.

I can see that.

Marriott did hurt him.

When I appeared, you were afraid

I might become another Marriott...

so you tried to buy me off.

That didn't work,

and I began to suspect your father.

A real tough guesser might say

that when he couldn't buy me off either...

you decided to be nice to me.

I don't always guess right.

I may be wrong.

- I think I am wrong.

- Sometimes I hate men.

All men:
Old men, young men...

beautiful young men who use rose water...

and almost-heels

who are private detectives!

I'm sorry, darling. I couldn't help laughing.

You should know by now

that men play rough.

They soften you up, throw you off guard,

and then belt you one.

That was a dirty trick. But maybe

it'll teach you not to overplay a good hand.

It's not that she doesn't like you.

She hates men.

That was only the first half of the speech.

The rest of it goes like this:

I hate their women, too,

especially the big-league blondes.

Beautiful, expensive babes

who know what they've got.

All bubble bath and dewy morning

and moonlight...

and inside, blue-steel cold!

Cold like that, only not that clean.

Your slip shows, dear.

Father's worried.

I'll tell him you're here and all right.

- How long have you been here?

- Since yesterday...

Smart. The cops won't be back.

It's a good place to hide.

You're good at throwing lambs

to the wolves, aren't you?

Or did you just happen to leave

before the cops dropped in?

Look, I'd like to get a few things straight.

You hired me to get your necklace.

You were going to help me, so you

stand me up in a crummy rum joint...

and tell Amthor pick me up

and shake the necklace out of me.

- I'm sorry. I thought you had it.

- What gave you that idea?

Please don't blame me.

You could've had it.

- Was it bad?

- It almost made me mad.

How long have you really known Amthor?

- I don't lie very well, do I?

- Well?

It's a long story and not very pretty.

I got lots of time, and I'm not squeamish.

Amthor is blackmailing me.

I more or less figured that.

How does it work?

My husband is 65. He's in love with me.

I'm fond of him. I'm grateful.

He's been understanding, but...

I've gone out with other men.

- I find men very attractive.

- I imagine they meet you halfway.

When I first knew Marriott, I didn't realize

how close he was to Amthor.

And it took me a while

to discover just how insidious Amthor is...

- because he did me a lot of good.

- What kind of good?

He treated my centers of speech.

Really, there's something to it.

- I have a psychological impediment.

- He did a swell job.

You talk as good as I do now.

His system is partly mumbo-jumbo

and partly the real thing.

He flatters you. He gets into your past.

You talk and talk and...

That's the awful way he works:

Uncovering a basis for blackmail.

Finally, he asked for the jade.

I agreed. I had no choice.

He knew too much about me.

He threatened to go to my husband.

Sounds like quite a past.

A younger man

than my husband might accept it...

or get drunk or divorce me...

but he's not young.

I think it would kill him.

I couldn't risk it, so I agreed.

Before I could turn the jade

over to Amthor, it was stolen.

The man who took it made it clear...

that if I called the police,

my husband would know everything.

That makes it an outfit

that knew Amthor's methods...

or an outfit tipped off

by somebody close to him.

Somebody who knew what he knew.

- Could've been Marriott.

- I think it was.

If he had thought Amthor suspected him,

he might have taken you for protection.

- Could be.

- I'm sure of it.

I'm sure Amthor decided

to kill him out there.

He may even have counted on you

taking the blame.

It's rough, but I'll buy it up to there.

He'd hand your past to your husband

on a platter if you didn't fork over the jade.

You decided to play ball, but the jade

was stolen with Marriott's help.

Amthor caught on and killed him.

What happens now?

I want you to help me kill Amthor.

It's the only way I'll ever have peace.

Once these things get started,

they go on and on.

He'll never be satisfied

even if he gets the jade.

Why me? Because I'm handy

and know how to use a gun?

Or just because I wear pants?

Don't say that. Please, I need you so.

I'm lost.

I haven't been good, nor halfway good.

I haven't even been very smart,

but I need help...

and peace.

I need you.

All right. Got anything worked out?

But I can't find him.

That's probably my fault.

The cops had a half nelson on me.

I tossed them Sonderborg.

Amthor may have skipped.

Even if we find him, we've got to be good

to sell a butcher a steak.

He works at this stuff.

Make it simple.

Tell him you're ready to sell,

that you've got the jade.

Have I?

He won't expect you to have it on you.

He'll need time to get the money.

You name a spot to meet later.

- For instance?

- Here.

- What if he sends a stooge?

- We don't play that way. We just wait.

Okay, he comes. Then what?

That's my part.

- All right. I'll dig him up.

- In the morning.

I'd better get a little work done

before daylight.

You're wonderful.

How would you like

not having to earn a living?

Wouldn't bother me. Got any ideas?

When will you be back?

He's slippery. It may not be easy.

I better not come out till tomorrow night.

I went in the way I knew about.

It was simpler...

and I had a psychological trick

to try out on foxy grandpa.

I thought it would give him a bang.

I thought it would kill him.

He wasn't hurt much.

He was just snapped...

the way a pretty girl

would snap a stalk of celery.

Only, for this job,

you'd have to be a big man...

with a big pair of hands.

I got to find her now. I got to go away.

Sounds like a good idea.

You might get unpopular

with the police here, breaking guys' necks.

I know you didn't mean to kill him.

You just shook him too hard.

You don't know your own strength.

Relax, or I won't be able to help you.

- You find her?

- Is that your girl?

That's your girl, isn't it?

That's Velma. It says,

"Always, Velma," doesn't it?

I don't like nobody to kid with me.

Nobody's kidding with you.

Somebody's kidding with me.

I thought it was a phony.

I had to make sure.

That was meant to nip up anybody

who was looking for Velma.

She wasn't like that.

I'll tell you how she was.

Cute.

Okay, she was as cute as a cap pistol.

She's still cute!

Do you want to see her

before you go away?

You mean you find her now?

Yeah, I find her. Just now.

- She's okay?

- Depends on what you got in mind.

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John Paxton

John Paxton (May 21, 1911, Kansas City, Missouri - January 5, 1985, Santa Monica, California) was an American screenwriter. He was married to Sarah Jane, who worked in public relations for 20th Century Fox.Some of his films include Murder, My Sweet in 1944, Cornered in 1945, Crossfire in 1947 (an adaptation of the controversial novel The Brick Foxhole that earned him his only Oscar nomination). He helped adapt the screenplay for the controversial movie The Wild One in 1953 starring Marlon Brando. Paxton's work twice received the Mystery Writers of America's Edgar Award for Best Motion Picture Screenplay, for Murder, My Sweet and Crossfire. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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