Johnny O'Clock (1947)

Directed by Robert Rossen; produced by Edward G Nealis

Johnny O’Clock (Dick Powell) is used to trouble. He’s the junior partner of a criminally-minded casino-owner (S Thomas Gomez) who may be phasing him out in favour of a crooked cop (Jim Bannon). That unpleasant character is under the scrutiny of a dogged police inspector (Lee J Cobb) who wants information on his quarry from Johnny, who is trying to help the girl (Nina Foch) in love with the dirty cop. Johnny also has to fend off the advances of his partner’s wife (Ellen Drew) while becoming interested in a new arrival in town (Evelyn Keyes). Yeah, Johnny is used to trouble – but maybe not this much…

If the story sounds complicated, it is – but not artificially so, just for the sake of seeming busy. The relationships of the various characters, especially those involved in the casino and its dealings, take a while to figure out. That’s just the smart script not treating the viewer as an idiot; it lets him unravel the skein as the movie goes. The plot is actually pretty simple, but is made convoluted by the characters trying to keep their motives and actions secret.

Those characters are realistic and interesting. Johnny runs a casino but doesn’t gamble. This is a motto for life, not just for play: he never makes a move without knowing all he can about a situation; he doesn’t take chances. This has allowed him to survive twenty years in business with his partner, and has given a decent guy armour that doesn’t tolerate foolishness; nor does it give its wearer a break. The other personalities in the movie are likewise guarded. Few seem to have travelled an easy road in life.

This is reflected in the dialogue. I noticed that the lines spoken were often indefinite, hedged about with uncertain meaning, or give information enough only to satisfy immediate curiosity. Instead of answering with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ the simple question, “Are you hungry?”, the reply is, “I could eat.” This may have been no more than an affectation of the writer. If it is, it works; the idiom creates the impression that trust is so limited that it is dispensed with an eye-dropper. When someone says what he means, it is usually in an outburst of anger or fear.

The acting is very good. Powell had been known for musicals and comedies until the mid-1940s, having started professionally as a crooner. His baby-face lent itself very well to roles of light-weight romance and breezy adventure. Then, in a sharp contrast, he starred as private investigator Philip Marlowe, in Murder, My Sweet (1944). The gamble – and a gamble it must have been for many connected with the film – paid off. Powell’s performance was applauded, the movie was a hit, and thereafter the actor successfully alternated among crime or action stories, romances and comedies.

Here, Powell has no difficulty convincing the viewer that he has been riding the edge of felony for decades. O’Clock is smooth and capable; it’s entertaining to watch him adapt – if he can – to every twist of the plot. The other players are up to his standard. Gomez here does more with a glance than he did with an entire movie of histrionics in Force of Evil (reviewed in the immediately previous entry of this blog).

Drew shows she is trouble from her first scene, a woman who thinks she can get away with anything; Keyes is suitably strong but confused at being suddenly smitten with O’Clock; Cobb, once more playing a policeman, is the one character with nothing to lose; he is more relaxed than any other, but nobody thinks he isn’t up to his job.

Jeff Chandler has a small role as a poker-player, while Phil Brown’s part as an hotel desk-clerk is slightly bigger.

The direction is probably the most mundane element of the film, but is still good, doing what it should. Rossen doesn’t hurry the story needlessly, nor does he give anything away. How the movie will end is up in the air until the finale.

A solid film noir, with all the requisite parts, Johnny O’Clock should satisfy most movie-watchers.