NO QUESTIONS ASKED (1951)

 

By Gary Deane

“They turn a spotlight on you when they keep narrowing the circle closing in for the kill…You wonder how it happened and where it really began…”

Though there are plenty of weightier classic film noirs, few have the irresistible, jacked-up urgency of No Questions Asked. It’s the kind of noir most seem to favor – atmospheric, glamorous, hard-boiled, straightforward. As IMDb pundit Jay MacIntyre says of the picture, “...it’s a pulp novel come to life”. 

No Questions Asked began with a screenplay by Sidney Sheldon, who later turned to fiction writing and for television (I Dream of Jeannie, The Pattie Duke Show, Hart to Hart). Dubbed the “Prince of Potboilers” by the LA Times, Sheldon ranks among the best-selling authors of all time. As he said of his novels, "I try to write my books so the reader can't put them down.” And No Questions Asked is equally the kind of film noir you can’t put down. 

The movie opens with its protagonist/ narrator, Steve Keiver (Barry Sullivan) on the run from the cops. We soon find out why. Keiver's an attorney for an insurance firm. One day his boss suggests the company might be willing to make cash settlements on stolen goods with “no questions asked”, rather than paying out the claims. Keiver, agreeing, tests the waters by following up on a robbery, tracking down the thieves, and working out a deal. For his efforts, he gets a ‘commission’ of two thousand dollars, all of which he needs. His high-toned girlfriend, Ellen Sayburn (Arlene Dahl) has made it plain she wants a lot more than what's been on offer. He pleads with her to be patient. She fires back, “You can’t deposit patience in a bank”. With his windfall, Keiver goes out and buys Ellen a diamond ring. When he goes to her apartment, he finds her gone. He’s told by a neighbor that Ellen's been away on a ski trip and, oh, by the way,  got married while she was at it. 

Keiver is furious but realizes he now wants her more than ever. Desperate, he decides to broker his own deals with the gangs. But as the number of robberies and heists increases, the police begin to suspect that Keiver is part of the problem, not the solution. The cop-in-charge of the investigation, Matt Duggan (George Murphy) confronts him outright, “Legally, you’re still within your rights. Morally, you stink”. Others think so, too, and friends and business associates begin to shun him. When the law starts to come down hard on the gangs, he's warned off by one of the thieves, “The word’s out. You’re poison”.

Keiver's world is falling apart, though a couple of pals stick by him,  one an occasional girlfriend, Joan Brenson, played by Jean Hagen. As she did in The Asphalt Jungle (1950), Hagen ends up in love with a guy who couldn't care less. When Keiver asks her why she even bothers, she says, “Maybe I’m sticking around for you because you’re a haunted guy. Maybe I’m just waiting for the ghost to come back.” Unfortunately, Ellen does just that, telling him “Steve, there’s never been anyone but you”. Foolishly, he believes her, and shortly after, finds himself framed for murder. 

No Questions Asked was the ideal vehicle for Barry Sullivan. Handsome and imposing, the actor seldom looked comfortable in his own skin, which made him well-suited to film noir. Sullivan excelled at playing characters who were doomed to be doomed, as he was in  Suspense (1946), Framed (1947), Cause for Alarm (1951), and  The Gangster (1947), the most agonizingly fraught film noir not made in France. In No Questions Asked,  he's a man so blind to his obsession that his fate seems decided from the opening frame.

But then, we were meant to be blinded by Arlene Dahl, whose daunting beauty, like that of so many actresses of the classic period – from Hedy Lamarr to Grace Kelly – borders on the impossible. Her role as a duplicitous femme fatale does, however,  give her the space to be more than just gorgeous window dressing. In all, Dahl did very well by her appearances in some notable film noirs, including Scene of the Crime (1949), Reign of Terror (1949), and Slightly Scarlet (1956), followed by two well-fitting British titles, Wicked as They Come (1956) and She Played with Fire (1957). 

Jean Hagen, though she features large in No Questions Asked, had bigger hopes for her career by this time. After starring in a trio of darker crime titles, including Side Street (1949) and The Asphalt Jungle (1950), Hagen was looking to be more than just the lovelorn ‘good girl’ who gets pushed around or pistol-whipped.  John Huston, who’d cast her in The Asphalt Jungle, said of her, "She has a wistful, down-to-earth quality that’s so rare in movies. A born actress.” Later, Hagen stepped out in the musical, Singin’ in the Rain (1952), for which she received an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actress. However, she was fated to be remembered for her signature appearances in film noir. 

Few, on the other hand, might know anything of Harold Kress,  at least as a director.  That's because Kress was first and foremost an editor who worked on nearly eighty features, including two dozen box-office hits, ranging from Teahouse of the August Moon (1956) and Silk Stockings (1957) to The Poseidon Adventure (1972) and The Towering Inferno (1974). A two-time Academy Award winner and four-time nominee, Kress was a filmmaker who early on in his career brought a wonderfully unexpected precision and vigor to the handful of modest titles he did direct, one of them being No Questions Asked. 

Helping out was composer and musical director, Leith Stevens, whose lengthy credits include a lineup of solid lesser noirs: Private Hell 36 (1954), Cell 2455 Death Row (1955), Inside Detroit (1956), Miami Expose (1956), Rumble on the Docks (1956), The Garment Jungle (1957), The Line-Up (1958), and Screaming Mimi (1958). Stevens was renown for his deft, melodic touch. His light-handed but evocative score for No Questions Asked is as much, and never more than's needed. The same can be said of the film,

Gary Deane

 Gary Deane