You might think Fingerman is an obscure Marvel superhero, but you’d be wrong.  The first indicator is because this is a film noir from 1955.

The film starts with the obligatory narrator, as Frank Lovejoy says, “My name…let’s just say it’s Casey Martin”.  Not sure why he acts like he’s using an alias as we’re about to spend roughly 90 minutes learning all about him.  We first see a raven while hearing this voiceover, and I was hoping the bird was Mr. Martin.  Maybe this would be an early version of Sandman that somehow predates the source material, and this is Matthew under a pseudonym.

No dice, as we will see Lovejoy, an ex-con determined to be become the next con, as he’s about to rob a truck.  Days later, the feds apprehend him while he’s playing in the piano in a place I was never sure if it was a bar or a restaurant.  It’s like a family restaurant with a full-service bar and a piano where people like Lovejoy apparently play without invitation or compensation. 

Instead of prison, Lovejoy is instead offered the opportunity to work undercover for the police to bust a narcotics racket ran by a gangster played by Forrest Tucker.  When the threat of prison isn’t sufficient motivation, he’s sent to see his sister (Evelyn Eaton), a mother who is strung-out on Tucker’s product.  Unfortunately, that aspect of the plot is an excuse for nothing other than sheer melodrama, and Eaton’s young daughter (Bernadette Withers) is grating.  But they won’t be in it for much of the runtime.

Lovejoy is given a cover story to insinuate himself into Tucker’s organization.  There’s also Peggie Castle to make introductions.  She used to work for Tucker in an unspecified capacity, which is left to our imaginations, and I bet we need zero guesses to correctly determine what that was.  She’s an interesting, damaged character who looks strikingly like Kim Cattrall in a few isolated frames. 

There’s an old cliché that the first thing one should do when going to prison is to punch out the toughest person there.  That’s the approach Lovejoy takes to the gangster’s organization, presenting himself as a loose cannon who thinks with his fists.  That seems like a questionable approach, as Tucker doesn’t like drama: “Spirit I like, trouble I don’t like.” 

The toughest of his lackeys is obviously Timothy Carey, an actor who so excels at this kind of thing that it is hard to not imagine he was this kind of person in real life.  He’s even disliked by others in the syndicate, and there’s a great moment where we see him alone at one table while everybody else is crammed in around the adjacent table. 

I used to think it was always good for one to take pleasure in their work, but I guess that depends upon the type of work.  At one point, Tucker discovers a girl working for him is taking from the till, and he tells Carey: “Better muss up her face some, so she can’t work anyplace.”  The thug goes to work with enthusiasm.

I almost hate to spoil anything, but something happens early enough that I don’t think it qualifies as such.  But it is quite a shock, especially for a film of this age, when Carey kills Castle, even if it is off-screen.  The real gut-punch is when the body is found in a trunk in a park.  And it’s a small trunk.  It reminded me of nothing less than the final shot of Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer.

Fingerman is an odd noir.  It is just about average, but it has some memorable moments.  Most of those are when it doesn’t pull its punches, as so many other films of the time would do.  Honestly, it could have used more of Castle, but her demise is shocking, and I have to respect a picture that would make such an unpopular move.

Dir: Harold D. Schuster

Starring Frank Lovejoy, Forest Tucker, Peggie Castle, Timothy Carey

Watched as part of Kino Lorber’s blu-ray box set Film Noir: The Dark Side of Cinema XVIII