Pushover (1954)

Directed by Richard Quine; produced by Jules Schermer

Detective Paul Sheridan (Fred MacMurray) is assigned to get to know the lovely Lona McLane (Kim Novak), in the hopes that she will lead the police to her fugitive boyfriend, Harry Wheeler (Paul Richards). Sheridan gets to know her too well: he is quickly smitten with her, and she with him. She persuades him to find the $200,000 Wheeler stole from a bank, so the two of them can flee the country and be together. Sheridan succumbs to temptation but, when a cop turns bad, not much can turn out good.

At first glance – second and third glances, too - Pushover looks a lot like MacMurray’s much more famous movie, Double Indemnity, from ten years before. There is the investigator, rather swiftly corrupted by the femme fatale; the plan to get rich quick by theft or fraud; colleagues slowly closing in on the guilty parties. In fact, one wonders why MacMurray would have chosen to star in Pushover, given the similarities that must have been obvious to critics and audiences alike.

Double Indemnity also seemingly has many advantages over Pushover: the greater experience and star-power of Barbara Stanwyck over Novak (given her first credited role here), the bigger name in directors and writers, and of course originality. But judged on its own merits, as every movie should be, Pushover stands a little taller than average height.

MacMurray, a prolific and versatile actor, seemed at ease playing both hero and villain, perhaps because a number of his roles had qualities of both. He is entirely believable here. Novak was probably cast in Pushover for her beauty, but shows why she made a name for herself as an actress, too. The other actors are more than competent: Philip Carey as Sheridan’s partner, McAllister, gives a good portrayal of someone with growing suspicions; E.G. Marshall is a hard task-master as the detectives’ boss, Eckstrom, and Dorothy Malone plays a light-hearted but strong young woman.

Quine’s bigger movies were yet to come when he directed Pushover, but he shows a talent for tension. There is little doubt that Sheridan and Lona’s plan will fail, but watching it stumble along, never really going anywhere, is like seeing a car-crash in slow motion.

The story in one way has an advantage over Double Indemnity. The plan that Sheridan concocts to have both the girl and the money is never more than ad hoc, and observing his improvisations – no more than reactions to a tightening noose – one admires his cleverness while scoffing at his expectations. The disjointed scheme adds to the tension.

Interestingly, both Sheridan and McAllister start the movie as cynics regarding women, and the script shows how, in different ways, they are both proved wrong. On that subject, however, the writing has a flaw: it seems very unlikely that a worldly police lieutenant like Eckstrom would assign a middle-aged man with a, shall we say, lived-in face to romance a girl half his age, when his partner is tall, young and handsome. That Lona is immediately attracted to Sheridan lacks credibility.

If disbelief is suspended for that aspect, however, Pushover becomes an enjoyable semi-remake of Double Indemnity, covering much of the same ground, but in its own style.