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Good concept, poorly executed.

Expected more

This is one of the best movies I’ve seen in a very long time. You have to go and see this on the big screen.

The joyful confection is coated in a sparkly gloss, bright enough to gleam from the darkest, most cynical corners.

If you're expecting a true film noir, "Manhandled" might disappoint you. If you view it as a parody, you should really enjoy it.In the middle of the complicated plot with double and triple crosses galore, confusing flashbacks and stylized violence, the police detective and his assistant have a running gag about the brakes on their squad car.Dan Duryea steals the show as an over-the-top wiseguy who out-thinks himself in a needlessly complicated theft and attempted frame. Dorothy Lamour is gorgeous as always, and plays the opposite of a femme fatale. Alan Napier plays a "sophisticated" Englishman who confesses to dreaming about killing his wife with just the right level of snobbishness and ennui. And a very young Sterling Hayden plays the romantic interest for Lamour."Manhandled" is not just a parody of noir films but also sophisticated detectives like the "Thin Man" series.

A woman gets murdered and her jewels are missing... with a heaping handful of likely suspects, the cops and the insurance investigator have their work cut out for them. The crackerjack script is skillful at doling out information in a series of intriguing twists and turns, with a lot of clever details. It's also laced with some humor, some of it doesn't work but a lot of it does. Dan Duryea does what he does best as the sleazy parasite of a private dick, Sterling Hayden plays it a little shabbier than usual as the insurance man, and Art Smith has an enjoyable turn as the homicide detective. Dorothy Lamour falls a little short but it's not a very meaty role. There's a lot of nice little bits of business and a cynical, seedy edge that occasionally cuts through the more light-hearted nature of the film. A fun little movie.

A stuffy novelist (Alan Napier) suffers recurring nightmares that he bludgeons his rich jewel-horse of a wife (Irene Hervey) to death – with a `quart' bottle of cologne. That's bad enough, but what's worse is that he confides his dreams to a shrink (Harold Vermilyea). Didn't he know that it was the 1940s, when psychiatry was little more than a hotbed of scheming quacks? So when his wife inevitably winds up dead (and her diamonds stolen), he becomes the prime suspect, even though she had been out clubbing with another man (Philip Reed).That's the uptown side of Manhandled; there's a seedier angle as well. The psychiatrist's transcriptionist (Dorothy Lamour) not only sits in on his sessions but later climbs the stairs to her Manhattan walk-up and spills the beans to her neighbor Dan Duryea, an ex-cop now doing repo jobs and divorce frame-ups. So much for codes of confidentiality. But when a signet ring she found while vacuuming her sofa and then pawned brings the police to her door, along with insurance investigator Sterling Hayden, it starts to look bad. It doesn't help that she just blew in from Los Angeles with forged letters of reference....Manhandled unfurls an elaborate, and none too plausible, mystery plot competently enough, even with a few skillful touches (in its final quarter, it takes a sharp turn toward noir, and better late than never). Director Lewis Foster, however, failed to optimize the solid cast he was handed: Hayden's part never comes into clear focus and Lamour plays little more than a bland patsy. Duryea dominates, with his familiar two-faced persona as the cheery suck-up who likes to slap women around; Art Smith, as the comic relief of the police detective, becomes, after Duryea, the movie's most memorable character. It's not a bad movie, despite a couple of clunky flashbacks. But in better hands, it could have become one of the better noirs. As it stands, it merits that dark and honorable designation only by the skin of its teeth.

Overall, I was fairly disappointed in Manhandled. The best part about it was Dan Duryea, who played his usual oily self and is always a pleasure to watch. The plot of the film was satisfactory as well, involving a rich woman's coveted jewels, her murder, and a melange of would-be killers. But Dorothy Lamour is miscast as the leading lady and adds little to the production, and a running gag between a police detective and his partner is not only tiresome but also out of place. The film did offer several notable elements of film noir, however, including the opening sequence, in which a man dreams that he bludgeons his wife to death with a perfume bottle, and a later scene in which a duplicitous doctor is run over -- repeatedly -- by a car. Still, I'd probably place this one way down on my list of film noir must-sees.