1944’s Mark of the Whistler is the second film in a series that began with The Whistler. Once again, it is a standalone tale, only a few minutes longer than an hour, and with a title character who only serves as an occasional narrator and observer. Oh, and all we ever see of him is a shadow, which keeps confusing me into thinking I’m watching a film of The Shadow. It’s no surprise both franchises started as radio serials.
Like the previous film, Richard Dix stars, though this time as a down on his luck drifter. Reading a discarded newspaper, he sees an article listing people who have abandoned accounts at the bank, one of whom happens to have the same name as his character. Seeing an opportunity, he goes to the address the article gives of his namesake, only to discover that building had long since burned down. I wasn’t as surprised by that as I was by the paper printing the addresses of the people the bank is looking for.
Dix does a considerable amount of research in preparation to present himself to the bank as the account holder. Steps of his investigation include going through newspaper archives and visiting the Children’s Aid Society. I was surprised most of the people he meets at these places assist him, though his clothes betray his rough life. I believe people encountering a destitute person today would be less helpful.
Still, Dix will only be able to pull off this ruse if he can get a change of clothes before presenting himself at the bank. He goes to a tailor (Porter Hall), explaining his plan and asking for just one suit in exchange for a cut of the money. The distrustful Hall agrees, but only if the homeless man stays with him until the business is complete. Dix had even anticipated this, sending a letter to himself at this address. What stunned me about the letter is the envelope has a name and street address, but the city is just…”CITY”. No state. No zip code (though the film may have preceded the introduction of that system—I’m too lazy to look into that). Did the post office work differently back then?
Despite his new suit, Dix raises the bank clerk’s suspicions when he goes to claim the dough. The forms of identification he presents, in addition to that faked letter from a friend which he mailed to himself, doesn’t alleviate those concerns. Then again, back when even driver’s licenses weren’t photo IDs, I’m not sure how he could prove his identity.
We never learn what convinces the clerk Dix is who he claims to be, but he forks over the money the next day and Dix exits the bank a twenty-nine-thousandaire.
A reporter (Janis Carter) tries to corner him when he emerges from the bank. Dodging them, he accidentally overturns the wares of a bum played by Paul Guilfoyle. I was hoping the resulting newspaper headline would be “INSTANT MULTI-THOUSANDAIRE ASSAULTS BUM”. The news draws the attention of thugs played by John Calvert and Matt Willis. No points for guessing the money Dix has strings attached.
The performances here are a bit quirkier than I would expect for such a short feature. Dix is once again an odd screen presence. He often strikes me as somebody who just realized they are currently in a film that is being shot. It is a look similar to how infants are constantly amazed by everything around them. Carter is a bit too wired and distracted as the female lead, and potential love interest. In their scenes together, it is odd to see him looking like he just realized they’re filming and her looking like she’s forgetting they are. Then there’s Guilfoyle, in what seems to be a very minor part that later is revealed to be something far more significant. Actually, he becomes central to the film to an extent that beggars belief.
Overall, this is a weirder film than the preceding installment of the series, and not necessarily for the better. It has such odd elements as the fanciest club in town having a motif of pre-revolution Russia. I was reminded of a line from The Simpsons where Homer and female co-worker accidentally win a dinner for two at “the most romantic Chinese restaurant in town”. There are enough quirks like this that I started to feel as distracted as our leads.
Unfortunately, the overall plot of Mark of the Whistler was even more bewildering. The nature of that abandoned bank account turns out to be excessively convoluted, and much of the intrigue here relies on coincidences and complications I found completely unbelievable. And yet, I still found this picture to be weirdly compelling overall, possibly because of the solid filmmaking skills demonstrated again by William Castle.
Dir: Willaim Castle
Starring Richard Dix, Janis Carter, Paul Guilfoyle
Watched as part of the Powerhouse/Indicator blu-ray box set Columbia Noir #6: The Whistler Blu-ray