Matt Dixon is a police dick known to rough up suspects and
marinate in his own self-loathing. After a guy gets bumped off during a
gangster’s craps game, it’s Dixon’s job to question suspect Ken Paine. Totally
blotto, Paine gets into a tussle with Dixon, who ends up killing the lush. And
so, we have an inspector investigating a crime of which he can consider himself
one of the perps. Oops.
Film noir can get pretty byzantine at times (just ask
Raymond Chandler), and Where the Sidewalk
Ends could have gone that route, but Otto Preminger realizes it with
perfect clarity. That’s not necessarily a good thing though. The film has the
look and elements of noir but lacks the brain-knotting logic, nightmarishness, and lens-smearing
seediness that makes something like The
Big Sleep compelling cinema even if it doesn’t make a lick of sense. Sidewalk mostly plays as a police
procedural with a minimum of violence and a maximum of gabbing. Dana Andrews
plays Dixon as totally gutted, disgusted by the legacy of his hood father and
the knowledge that he shares too many of dad’s qualities. The performance is
correct in itself, but the fact that Paine’s wife Morgan falls for such an
uncharismatic schmuck doesn’t make much sense, especially when Morgan is played
by the utterly charming Gene Tierney.
Where the Sidewalk
Ends is flawed, but it is hardly a wash as the cast swirling around Dixon
is a lot of fun to watch. Along with Tierney, there’s Craig Stevens as Paine,
Ruth Donnelly as a restaurant owner who enjoys bantering with Dixon and loves
him for putting away her abusive husband, Gary Merrill as the smug sleazo
running the craps game, Tom Tully as Morgan’s lovable dad who ends up a suspect
in Paine’s death, and Karl Malden as a straight-laced lieutenant who doesn’t
get that much to do, but we can forgive that since he’s Karl Malden and Karl
Malden is always awesome.
Twilight Time’s new blu-ray of Where the Sidewalk Ends looks really nice, and cinematographer
Joseph LaShelle certainly made a handsome picture. Contrast is strong and I
think I only noticed one or two white specks intrude on a very clean print. A
commentary by film historian Eddie Muller rounds out the disc. Get it on the official Twilight Time site here.