Showing posts with label Broderick Crawford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Broderick Crawford. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 30, 2026

Newspaper Noir in 1952: Deadline-U.S.A., Scandal Sheet, and Assignment-Paris

My last three articles were about Deadline-U.S.A., Scandal Sheet, and Assignment-Paris—all released in 1952 and all examples of newspaper noir. That is, all are stories about newspaper reporters and their work publishing the news of the day. I hadn’t planned on writing about newspaper noir three consecutive times, but because it has worked out that way, it seemed like a good opportunity to investigate newspaper noir, a subgenre of film noir, a little bit.

◊ Deadline-U.S.A., released March 14, 1952

◊ Scandal Sheet, released January 16, 1952

◊ Assignment-Paris, released September 4, 1952

I tried an online search for newspaper noir and didn’t find much information about this type of film. But I did find one article about journalism in noir at the website Heart of Noir. Click here to visit the site for more information.

Deadline-U.S.A., Scandal Sheet, and Assignment-Paris are certainly not the only films about newspapers and reporters. Heart of Noir lists many examples of newspaper noir, and it looks like I have more films noir to see. At Heart of Noir, the criterion for categorizing a film noir as a newspaper noir is simply that “[a]t least one character works in journalism.”

Although I am not a big fan of categories, as I have said/written many times before, I’d like to think that the one character and their work for a newspaper are not the only criteria that make a film a newspaper noir. The character and their newspaper work should at least be the main parts of the film’s narrative, which would thus include the newspaper and its one or more employees as vital parts of the story. So I would limit the category a little more: I wouldn’t call a film noir a newspaper noir if only one of the characters happened to work for a newspaper.

I realize that the designation of a film as newspaper noir (or even as film noir) is subjective. Fans have definite opinions—and that’s one of the things that makes writing about noir interesting for me.

And then there is the term newspaper noir trilogy, which is applied specifically to three of Fritz Lang’s films. I have already written about all three:

◊ The Blue Gardenia, released March 28, 1953

◊ While the City Sleeps, released May 16, 1956

◊ Beyond a Reasonable Doubt, released September 13, 1956

The Blue Gardenia explores the public’s appetite for sensational stories and a newspaper reporter’s willingness to pander to those appetites. In While the City Sleeps, a newspaper’s reporters learn of a serial killer terrorizing young women in New York City. The paper’s owner decides to create the position of executive director and give it to the person who learns the killer’s identity first, thus setting up a fierce competition and putting lives at risk.

A newspaper publisher in Beyond a Reasonable Doubt maintains that an innocent man can be arrested, convicted, and executed on circumstantial evidence alone. He nominates his future son-in-law to be the innocent suspect in his experiment that involves the very real crime of murder. The publisher’s plan is really an obstruction of justice and manipulation of public opinion and the justice system.

It isn’t uncommon for film noir to feature newspaper reporters, and this makes sense. Reporters function much like private detectives and police investigators who search the dark and shadowy side of human nature for a living. Reporters search for the truth (not always true in noir, of course) and publish stories about what they find. But they also have to pay attention to what the public wants and is willing to pay for, and the tension between the two can sometimes get in the way of honesty and the pursuit of justice in the public arena.

This tension is part of the narrative in Scandal Sheet, although I would say that Mark Chapman, editor in chief at the New York Express and one of the main characters in the film, cares a lot less about the truth and a lot more about selling newspapers and increasing circulation. His newspaper sponsors publicity stunts that are also meant to increase sales and have nothing to do with a search for the truth and informing the public. His blatant manipulation of the public to make more money and sell more newspapers sounds like the modern version capitalism applied at times to social media and reality television.

Deadline U.-S.-A. is a film about the feared decline of the free press in the United States. The villain this time is not a single person but the prevailing trend of corporate consolidation and its effect on newspapers and their ability to maintain their independence. This is another modern theme: Large corporations and people with a lot of money (and political connections) are controlling more and more markets when it comes to news in 2026.

Assignment-Paris is a bit different from Deadline-U.S.A. and Scandal Sheet. This time, the villain is the communist regime in Hungary and its clampdown on the press, both domestically and internationally. The hero is a lone foreign correspondent from the United States who wants to report the facts and is repeatedly blocked and persecuted for trying to do his job. He is successful in the end, but he pays for it with his health and almost with his life. Again, the theme is surprisingly modern.

All three films—Deadline-U.S.A., Scandal Sheet, and Assignment-Paris—are modern in their take on human nature and the news. The same can be said of Lang’s newspaper noir trilogy. The themes in newspaper noir are still relevant today, even though newspapers are not nearly as ubiquitous as they once were.

The three screenshots are from Assignment-Paris (1952), Deadline-U.S.A. (1952), and While the City Sleeps (1956), respectively.

Sunday, May 31, 2026

Scandal Sheet (1952)

Like Deadline-U.S.A., Scandal Sheet is a newspaper story that was also released in 1952. Deadline-U.S.A. was released two months after Scandal Sheet and was the subject of my last blog article.

Scandal Sheet has an engrossing story that I enjoyed, even though I am not a big fan of Broderick Crawford. He, as managing editor Mark Chapman, and Donna Reed, as newspaper reporter Julie Allison, play roles that are probably familiar to film noir and classic film fans. The character with the transformational arc is Steve McCleary (played by John Derek). McCleary is a young reporter who idolizes his mentor just a bit too much and pays the price for it. The treatment of female characters is a bit of a drawback for modern-day viewers, but the grab for publicity at all costs (more details later) holds up surprisingly well.

Scandal Sheet is available for free online. Click here to see it at the Internet Archive.

The film starts with a distraught woman describing the aftermath of a murder. She thinks that she is talking to a police officer, but she is really talking to Steve McCleary, newspaper reporter for the New York Express. McCleary never bothered to correct her misperception, which infuriates her when she learns of her mistake. Newspaper photographer Biddle takes her picture after she starts screaming at McCleary in frustration (because the emotion, whatever the reason for it, will sell newspapers). When Lieutenant Davis arrives on the scene, the woman is so distraught that she is bent over, sobbing into her hands. Lieutenant Davis knows McCleary and Biddle’s tactics from past experience and threatens to arrest them both the next time.

This opening is dramatic and unsettling, and it tells you almost all you need to know about McCreary and Biddle and their work ethic—or lack thereof. On their way back to the newspaper offices, McCreary phones in his latest story to his boss and mentor, Mark Chapman. Chapman is keeping the newspaper’s stockholders waiting while he talks to McCleary. When he does show up at the board meeting, he shouts down protests from the stockholders about the New York Express turning into a tabloid. He uses increased circulation numbers and large dividend checks to the stockholders as the bases for his arguments.

Newspaper staff (including Chapman, Allison, McCleary, and Biddle) are heading that night to the newspaper-sponsored Lonely Hearts Ball. It is a publicity stunt intended solely to increase newspaper subscriptions. Any two people who meet the night of the ball and agree to marry in front of cameras win prizes, like expensive furnishings and household appliances. (This type of publicity should sound familiar to modern viewers. It is eerily similar to The Bachelorette/The Bachelor franchise.) The stunt is made even worse when it becomes clear that Mark Chapman is promising more than he is willing to deliver to the ball’s attendees.

Julie Allison makes it clear at the Lonely Hearts Ball that she is already sick of the lies and deception. She has already soured on the night’s events because of a chance meeting on the street outside the New York Express offices, when she, Chapman, and McCleary met Charlie Barnes, a reporter who once won the Pulitzer Prize and is now an alcoholic. He is doing some research for Allison, but he wants to work full-time again. Mark Chapman agrees to hire him but then later tells Allison and McCleary that he has no intention of doing so. Allison is dismayed and wants to tell Barnes so that he doesn’t get his hopes up, but Chapman and McCleary defend themselves by saying that Barnes needs hope, even false hope (in other words, their lies), to live on. Then they rush Allison into a cab.

(This article about Scandal Sheet contains spoilers.)

Charlotte Grant attends the ball and spots her estranged husband—Mark Chapman. She corners him, and he agrees to meet her at her rented room. He is hateful to her; he tells her that she was a mistake and that he is glad to be rid of her. He’ll grant her a divorce, finally, after twenty years of estrangement. (It helps to keep in mind that divorces weren’t granted so easily in the 1950s, and divorce carried more of a stigma at that time.) She threatens to tell her story all over town and to the other newspapers. He gets even angrier, shoves her, and accidentally kills her when she falls and hits her head. Mark Chapman cleans the room and takes everything that he can find that would incriminate him. He also takes a claim ticket from Pete’s Hock Shop. Then he leaves his wife’s body in her rented room.

McCleary and Biddle arrive at the scene of Grant’s death, and McCleary is not convinced that her death is an accident. Against the orders of Lieutenant Davis, he snoops around and finds the Lonely Hearts Ball pin on one of Grant’s dresses. He takes it and decides to write a lead story about Charlotte Grant’s death. At the morgue, he uses the promise of box seats at the World Series to bribe the coroner, Doc O’Hanlon, to conduct an autopsy. Doc O’Hanlon discovers that Grant’s death is more likely murder. When McCleary proposes the story idea to Mark Chapman, Chapman agrees. He cannot resist the lure of a sensational story, a way to keep increasing newspaper sales.

The rest of the film mostly follows McCleary’s investigation into Charlotte Grant’s death, with each development a new front-page story to keep the public interested and buying newspapers. He and Julie Allison clash over his methods, but as the investigation tightens around Mark Chapman and others feel the ripple effects of his investigation, McCleary begins to see the consequences of his actions from a new perspective. This new perspective comes into sharper focus after the death of Charlie Barnes: Julie Allison accuses McCleary of being partly responsible for his death because he refused to believe him, to take him seriously, and to give him any respect.

McCleary wants to continue writing about what he now calls the Lonely Hearts killer. He convinces Allison to join him in the investigation, this time because he wants to solve Barnes’s murder, ease his conscience a bit, and win over Allison. First, he needs Mark Chapman’s okay, and he goes to Chapman’s home to do so. Again, Chapman agrees. I have to admit that I was a little surprised that Chapman didn’t kill McCleary when they were alone in Chapman’s home. It would have been the perfect opportunity, even if people would have put two and two together eventually. But maybe Chapman cared more for his protégé than he ever mentioned in the film.

McCleary and Allison finally discover the truth about Mark Chapman and his failed marriage to Georgia Grant. McCleary is utterly dismayed by the revelation that Chapman is the killer because he put his trust and his career in Chapman’s hands. Chapman won’t go quietly, however. When he is confronted by a witness in front of his employees and the police, he pretends to shoot at them. He aims down, however, and is promptly killed by Lieutenant Davis. It’s the first instance that I can recall of a “death by cop” in a film noir.

I mentioned the treatment of the female characters, and there were many instances of bad treatment that made me squirm. Here are some examples:

◊ Steve McCleary’s pet nicknames for Julie Allison: princess, baby, tiger, kiddies (Allison and Charlie Barnes), kitten. He pooh-poohs Allison’s ideas about respecting other people’s feelings and their ideas, and there is one scene in the newspaper office where he spends most of it with his hand on her neck.

◊ During the Grants’ argument in Charlotte Grant’s rented room, Mark Chapman calls Charlotte a “neurotic screwball” because, of course, she is solely responsible for his miserable treatment of her and their failed marriage. Mark Chapman treats a lot of the characters badly—unless they can give him something that he wants.

◊ Biddle the newspaper photographer, calls his photo subjects, mostly the bodies of murdered women, scarecrows.

Scandal Sheet predates the Me Too movement by many years. I noticed the poor treatment of female characters, and particularly of Julie Allison by her coworkers, the first time that I watched the film, but it becomes almost impossible to ignore on repeat viewings. I enjoyed the main narrative of the film very much, but the way women were treated generally in the 1950s is something to be aware of when watching Scandal Sheet.

The Lonely Hearts Ball, the publicity stunt intended solely to increase newspaper subscriptions, was a surprise because it sounded so familiar. And it is not just The Bachelorette/The Bachelor franchise that it reminded me of. That one came to mind because of the mention of romance and marriage in the ball, but almost any game show and reality television show could have come from the same idea. The scenes involving the Lonely Hearts Ball in Scandal Sheet also made me squirm, but not only because the idea of making people do stunts for prizes was objectionable; it was the way it was treated by most of the main characters. Chapman especially was prone to calling the attendees, indeed all the newspaper’s readers, slobs behind their backs. He wasn’t a fun character to spend eighty-two minutes with.

But every film noir needs a villain, and this one (with its villain) is a good one. The story is a bit of a history lesson, with its examination of corrupt newspaper practices. Journalism may be in disarray in the twenty-first century, but the behind-the-scenes wheeling and dealing seems to have been transferred (too) easily to new businesses (social media) and applied in new ways.

Click here for more information at Wikipedia about the long history of tabloid journalism. Note the brief discussion of “catch and kill” in relation to famous people who have been accused of mistreating women, often criminally.

Scandal Sheet is a social justice film about the newspaper industry, its business practices, and its publicity stunts. But I’m sure its filmmakers never intended the film to be a lesson about the way women were treated on the job and in general. Modern-day viewers will notice it, though.

January 16, 1952, release date  •  Directed by Phil Karlson  •  Screenplay by Ted Sherdeman, Eugene Ling, James Poe  •  Based on the novel The Dark Page by Samuel Fuller  •  Music by Morris Stoloff, George Duning  •  Edited by Jerome Thoms  •  Cinematography by Burnett Guffey

Broderick Crawford as Mark Chapman/George Grant  •  Donna Reed as Julie Allison  •  John Derek as Steve McCleary  •  Rosemary DeCamp as Charlotte Grant  •  Henry O'Neill as Charlie Barnes  •  Harry (Harry) Morgan as Biddle, newspaper photographer  •  James Millican as Lieutenant Davis  •  Griff Barnett as Judge Elroy Hacker  •  Jonathan Hale as Frank Madison  •  Jay Adler as Bailey  •  Don Beddoe as Pete, the owner of the hock chop  •  Charles Cane as Heeney, the bar owner  •  Katherine Warren as Mrs. Allison  •  Ida Moore as Nellie  •  Cliff Clark as Doc O’Hanlon  •  Ralph Reed as Joey, copy boy  •  Pierre Watkin as Baxter, newspaper reporter

Distributed by Columbia Pictures  •  Produced by Motion Picture Investors