Noir or Not: The Judge (1949)
By Karen Burroughs Hannsberry
Our Noir or Not series continues with The Judge, a 1949 Emerald Productions release touted as “the strangest story in the annals of modern crime.” It was directed by Elmer Clifton, who helmed nearly 100 shorts and feature films during his career, beginning in 1915. Clifton also co-wrote the screenplay along with Samuel Newman, known mostly for his writing on TV’s Perry Mason and other small screen series including The F.B.I., Mannix, and The Wild, Wild West.
The Judge stars Milburn Stone as Martin Strang, a smart but altogether unscrupulous criminal attorney who possesses nary a qualm at defending and gaining freedom for murderers. The title character (played by Jonathan Hale), referring to Strang’s “almost diabolical shrewdness,” sets the stage for the tale to come, which he terms “a strange, bitter, ironic story of the man who gambled with life and death and put his thumb on the scales of justice once too often.” There are a lot of moving parts, twisty-turny plot points, and intriguing characters in the feature, including Strang’s duplicitous wife Lucille (Katherine DeMille); the doctor, James Anderson (Stanley Waxman), with whom Lucille is romantically involved; James Tilton (Norman Budd), who commits an especially heinous murder after he’s successfully defended by Strang for a previous homicide; and petty thief-turned-killer William Jackson (Paul Guilfoyle), a key player in the attorney’s scheme that starts out as payback against his wife and her lover, and winds up as a self-punishment for his years of putting murderers back on the street.
With all this going on, the question must be asked – is The Judge noir? Or not?
If you judge The Judge (pardon the wordplay) by its opening credits, you most assuredly will not think you’re settling down for a shadowy feature; the music, by Gene Lanham (in his first and last film), consists of a choral effect that evokes a cheery holiday spirit more than a cheerless crime drama. But we don’t have to wait long for our first hint of noir. The movie begins with the voiceover narration by the judge, which will continue to guide us throughout the film. We also learn from the judge that the entire picture is an extended flashback to the events of the previous summer.
The action in the flashback is kicked off by James Tilton, who is so unnerved by a neighbor’s violin playing that he is compelled to kill him; aside from the murder, this scene is notable because of the unusual camera angles used by cinematographers Ray Foster and Ben Kline. Their efforts create a rather voyeuristic sensation – however brief – with the viewer watching Tilton pace throughout his room, peering at him from the floor level through the brass bars of his headboard.
Outside of these traits, the noiriest aspect of the film focuses on the characters of Strang and his wife. Strang initially impresses us with his swaggering confidence and seemingly infallible legal prowess. We’re not only told by the judge that Strang is “one of the greatest criminal lawyers ever to appear before [his] bench,” but Strang himself informs us that he’s “a gambler. I like to gamble. If I don’t take their case, somebody else will. But I always stay within the bounds of legal ethics.” We soon learn, though, that there are cracks in Strang’s façade, exposing an inescapable dark side. While we’re never told the specifics, we discover that he put his younger brother through law school and later had him disbarred, and that the brother wound up committing suicide. We also see Strang’s shadowy bent when he finds out about his wife’s affair and devises a fiendishly intricate scheme to exact his revenge. Although the plan’s purpose and execution undergo a transformation, it nonetheless serves to expose the depths that Strang is willing to plumb.
As for Lucille, her extramarital activity serves as an early indication of her wicked ways, but it’s not until late in the film – thanks to an argument she has with Strang – that we learn she’s a true femme fatale. During their exchange (or, to be more accurate, through Strang’s harangue), we discover that Lucille never loved her husband, but only married him for the promise of the financial benefits associated with his career. She refused to consider starting a family, first telling him that they couldn’t afford it and later admitting that “kids just bore [me].” She insisted that he make more money, and although she later reproached him for defending criminals, “her nerves disappeared with that first mink coat” purchased with Strang’s ill-gotten gains. Strang also references the “obvious trap” that Lucille set for her lover, and he labels her a “vicious, scheming little tramp.” We may not get to see Lucille carrying out this litany of misdeeds, but there’s no doubt that she was no good.
So – is The Judge noir, or not? Its distinctive plot is unquestionably noir-like, and it serves up a proper unexpected twist at the end. And while it doesn’t have the look of noir (with the only shadows coming in the scene with the violin-affected killer), it does contain some of the other tried and true traits common to film noir – the anti-hero, the femme fatale, voiceover narration, flashback framing. It also features the type of complex, sometimes confusing plot that is often a hallmark in noir films (see Murder, My Sweet [1944], The Big Sleep [1946], and Out of the Past [1947]). Finally, it possesses, if not a persistent sensation of dread, most certainly an overarching tone of cynicism, moral corruption, and disillusionment.
Nonetheless, this one was a hard one to call – The Judge displays so many of the tropes that are common to noir, but I have to admit that it often doesn’t feel like a noir. If given the option, I might term this one as solidly noir-adjacent, but in keeping with the spirit and function of this series, I’m jumping in with both feet – and concluding that The Judge has just enough darkness to qualify it as noir.
Other Stuff About The Judge
The Judge is chock full of familiar faces, beginning with star Milburn Stone, who is best known for his role as the crotchety but soft-hearted physician, Doc Adams, on the long-running television series Gunsmoke. His performance on the show earned him an Emmy award in 1968 for Outstanding Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role in a Drama. The judge, Jonathan Hale, appeared in more than 250 films and TV shows, but he was most memorable in the Blondie films; he played Mr. Dithers, the boss of Dagwood Bumstead, in 16 of the 28 pictures in the series. John Hamilton, who played a homicide squad lieutenant in The Judge, later gained fame as Daily Planet newspaper editor Perry White in the Superman TV series. In one courthouse scene from the film, there are three reporters played by Barney Phillips (who I remember best from a Twilight Zone episode where he was alien with an eye in the center of his forehead), Charles Williams (he was Eustace in It’s a Wonderful Life [1946]), and Herb Vigran (most familiar to me from a Brady Bunch episode where he played the harried employee of a trading stamp redemption center). In a tiny part, consisting of only two lines, was Bob Jellison, who I recall as Bobby the Bellboy on the “L.A. at Last!” episode of I Love Lucy. And Paul Guilfoyle (not to be confused with the actor of the same name who was a cast member on the TV series CSI: Crime Scene Investigation) was a veteran of numerous classic films including Bringing Up Baby (1938), The Grapes of Wrath (1940), and White Heat (1949).
The film marked the last completed directing effort of Elmer Clifton. While working on Not Wanted (1949), starring Sally Forrest and Leo Penn (Sean and Chris’s dad), Clifton suffered a heart attack on set and was unable to continue. The film’s producer, Ida Lupino, took over as the uncredited director, making the film the start of her successful career behind the camera. Clifton died later that year; two westerns that he had previously directed (Red Rock Outlaw [1949] and The Silver Bandit [1950]) were released after his death.
Katherine DeMille, who played Martin Strang’s wife, was the adopted daughter of famed director Cecil B. DeMille. Katherine started her acting career with a series of uncredited pre-Code performances, then landed a role in Viva Villa! (1934) as the wife of the title character, played by Wallace Beery. Her other films included the Mae West starrer, Belle of the Nineties (1934); Call of the Wild (1935), with Clark Gable and Loretta Young; and Banjo on my Knee (1936), where she was the rival of Barbara Stanwyck for the affections of Joel McCrea. DeMille was married to actor Anthony Quinn from 1937 to 1965. The couple had five children; sadly, their oldest, Christopher, drowned at the age of two in a lily pond on the property owned by their neighbor, W.C. Fields. Katherine’s role in The Judge was her last credited role. Her final film appearance was a bit part in The Man From Del Rio (1956), which starred then-husband Quinn.
Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of two books on film noir, Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. She is also the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages film noir newsletter, founded in 2004. She can be found on X at @thedarkpages.
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