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To me, this movie is perfection.

Very interesting film. Was caught on the premise when seeing the trailer but unsure as to what the outcome would be for the showing. As it turns out, it was a very good film.

I cannot think of one single thing that I would change about this film. The acting is incomparable, the directing deft, and the writing poignantly brilliant.

The film never slows down or bores, plunging from one harrowing sequence to the next.

Many appropriately appreciative reviews appear for this surprisingly successful film noir. Most of them can be agreed with. The film, however, is not without a few disappointing flaws. Some scenes run out of steam, a couple are painfully obvious in their attempts to manipulate perception, and a couple just don't work. But the other 85% of the film turns as well as the spirals of a heavy-duty spring in doing what it's supposed to do to contribute to the film. One of many scenes that worked very well is when Connie tries to make up her mind about whether or not to be mercenary. A woman on a dark street has two ways to go, and she's pulled effectively in both. Not clear until the last is which direction she will take. ... Much is said about the dialogue. The NYTimes reviewer at the time was soured by it, but others here mostly don't mind it or like it. Surely, the dialogue is one of the film's assets, fitting inquiring thought to visual mood and an often darkly naturalistic tenor. ... You think you know noir, and then along comes a nice surprise like this one.

This is probably best described as a psychological thriller, although, it does not have too many thrills. It does have a trio of lead characters that are fun to watch. John Ireland (Hero or Villain?), Mercedes McCambridge (Sexy Girl who's not as tough as she thinks) and Ezra Thompson (cynical desert hermit who's not as cynical as he thinks)give delightful and skillful performances.There's nice cinematography and good direction here. The dialog is generally clever and snappy. The musical score works well to accent the scenes with a sense of humor and some suspense.The narrative could have been a little tighter. The relationship of Ireland and McCambridge takes a long time to define. The first 3/4ths of the film moves rather slowly, and the final 1/4 of the film seems too quick with too many twists. There are plot holes that stand out much more now than they probably did in 1951. For example, how did they know that Mercedes' laughing would set off the bad guy and cause him to reveal himself. Still, it is no more gimmicky than "Spellbound" or other Hitchcock psychological crime stories of the period.If you're a fan of the 1950's-60's television show "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" you'll probably enjoy this film a lot.

This weird item begins on a turkey farm. The farmer is a philosopher.The movie is a turkey with pretensions of philosophical wisdom. Every line, virtually, is an epigram, but, though it was made around the same time, this sure ain't no "All About Eve." The dialogue is like that of a mediocre off-off-Broadway play: full of meaning, full of -- well, something else.The story is interesting enough. Nice guy framed by friend. Nice guy is, inexplicable at least in the surviving print, son of rich man. Decent men triumph and reveal the guilty party.Among the other oddities is the casting of Mercedes McCambridge, a fine character actress, as the gorgeous dame. Gorgeous she ain't, though she turns in a game -- no, not gamy -- performance. She was a far better actress than, say, Cleo Moore, but surely someone more convincing was available.The whole thing is entertaining but annoying. It could have stood on its own, minus the pretension that abounds.

Two years after appearing in All The King's Men, John Ireland and Mercedes McCambridge reunite in The Scarf. Talented actors both, neither of them would enjoy, in number or in quality, movie roles commensurate with their gifts. A recondite find today, The Scarf could hardly have been much less so in 1951; under the `Gloria Productions' imprint, it fell to a German-born director of little reputation, E.A. Dupont.But while not every emigrant from middle Europe was a Fritz Lang or Robert Siodmak or Billy Wilder, most had tradition behind them and a touch of inspiration, like John Brahm and Edgar G. Ulmer – and even Dupont. Though The Scarf starts off dead slow – a long, quasi-philosophical dialogue between a turkey-ranching hermit in the California desert (James Barton) and an escapee from an asylum for the criminally insane who has sought refuge with him (Ireland) – soon enough the movie picks up its pace and shows flashes of originality and style. The cinematography is by Frank (Franz) Planer, another refugee steeped in Expressionism who had behind, and ahead of, him several noirs. Not coincidentally, the quickened pace comes with McCambridge's arrival, as a singing bar waitress who hitches a ride with Ireland. With her distinctive organ-pipe voice and her instinct for biting off her lines clean, she brings both quirkiness and force to this standard role (tough gal, good heart). Though some of her best known roles showed noir influences (All The King's Men, Johnny Guitar) she only appeared in two obscure noirs (Lightning Strikes Twice was the other). The cycle is poorer for her rarity.The Scarf's plot, alas, falls under the rubric far-fetched. It involves Ireland's not quite remembering the crime for which he was committed – strangling a girl with her scarf – and a sinister psychologist ( Emlyn Williams) somehow in the employ of Ireland's powerful father. Dupont can't do much with the bulk of it (who could?), but along the way sneaks in some arresting sequences. The best occurs when McCambridge has been ordered to leave town on the 11 p.m. bus for Los Angeles; as she vacillates, looking down the dark road at the sign reading `sheriff's station,' it turns into a lure for her to sell out Ireland for the reward on his head, with `$5000" spelled out in beckoning neon.