You would think no one would want to mess with the Wolf Man, Frankenstein's Monster, the Mummy, or Dracula -- all of whom the brawny, sinister-looking Lon Chaney Jr would play during his years on the silver screen. However, in Strange Confession he plays a good-natured, altruistic chemist, interested only in helping mankind by finding cures for diseases. So it's not surprising the amoral boss of the pharmaceutical lab he works for, played with slimy sophistication by J. Carrol Nash, takes advantage of his naive employee. It was bad enough he took credit and even won awards for Chaney's discoveries. But now he sends his star chemist out of the country so he can start selling an unproven influenza remedy Chaney would have objected was not reliable, and even more dastardly, so he can hit on Chaney's wife. When Chaney returns home unexpectedly and is confronted with all the distressing developments which have accrued from his sneaky boss's nefarious doings, look out! No more Mr. Nice Guy!
Strange Confession is one of the best of Universal Studio's six spooky little "B" potboilers inspired by the popular "Inner Sanctum" radio show. Each stared Chaney, enjoying a change of pace from his monster image as a suave, nattily dressed leading man. Instead of monster or moron, as in Of Mice And Men, in these nifty little thrillers he plays sophisticated, well-educated men, variously a psychiatrist, a professor, an artist, a hypnotist, a chemist, and an attorney. In the line of duty he receives the sexy attentions of some of Old Hollywood B-movie land's most beautiful babes, the glamorous likes of Evelyn Ankers, Anne Gynne, Patricia Morrison, Aquanetta, Elena Verdugo, and the afore-mentioned pretty Miss Joyce. Wow! Must have been an ego boost for he not-so-handsome Chaney. Could all the cigarettes he smoked in these movies have been to cover up the steam coming out of his ears!
But Chaney was a better actor than his later unrewarding roles would indicate, and he carries these short but quite good little movies with his measured portrayals of the tormented heroes. I would rate Strange Confession as the third best of the series with Weird Woman (see my review) as the best. Calling Dr. Death (1943), first in the series, perhaps has a slight edge over Strange in spite of lesser production values, because it incorporates a strong mystery-suspense angle with a tense psychological element. Strange Confession is more of a straight melodrama and the least spooky of the series. Also, Dr. Death gets a boost from the always reliable Nash's scintillating performance as a sardonic detective. Because the six pictures of the series were big studio second features, rather than impoverished independent "B" productions, a lot of mileage was made out of small budgets by borrowing sets from other, often bigger productions and by tapping a stable of on-the-payroll solid character actors such as Nash, Thomas Gomez, Milburn Stone, Douglas Dumbrille, Lloyd Bridges, and Ralph Morgan. While tacky looking in places, these little flicks are not without artistic merit. Though seldom mentioned in the context, all six movies are fine examples of the period film noir style, all loaded with night scenes, darkly shadowed and obliquely angled cinematography, femme fa-tales, doom-laden ambiance, and themes of murder, corruption, and betrayal. All the Sanctums are well-acted, well-directed, handsomely filmed, and stylishly scored.
Strange Confession and the rest of the Inner Sanctum series are enduring examples of how the big studios of Hollywood's Golden Era could turn out good-looking, entertaining pictures while only half-way trying. Once you have watched the entire series on Universal's economically priced album of meticulously restored DVD's, you may wish, as yours truly does, they had made sixty of them, instead of only six!
Strange Confession is one of the best of Universal Studio's six spooky little "B" potboilers inspired by the popular "Inner Sanctum" radio show. Each stared Chaney, enjoying a change of pace from his monster image as a suave, nattily dressed leading man. Instead of monster or moron, as in Of Mice And Men, in these nifty little thrillers he plays sophisticated, well-educated men, variously a psychiatrist, a professor, an artist, a hypnotist, a chemist, and an attorney. In the line of duty he receives the sexy attentions of some of Old Hollywood B-movie land's most beautiful babes, the glamorous likes of Evelyn Ankers, Anne Gynne, Patricia Morrison, Aquanetta, Elena Verdugo, and the afore-mentioned pretty Miss Joyce. Wow! Must have been an ego boost for he not-so-handsome Chaney. Could all the cigarettes he smoked in these movies have been to cover up the steam coming out of his ears!
But Chaney was a better actor than his later unrewarding roles would indicate, and he carries these short but quite good little movies with his measured portrayals of the tormented heroes. I would rate Strange Confession as the third best of the series with Weird Woman (see my review) as the best. Calling Dr. Death (1943), first in the series, perhaps has a slight edge over Strange in spite of lesser production values, because it incorporates a strong mystery-suspense angle with a tense psychological element. Strange Confession is more of a straight melodrama and the least spooky of the series. Also, Dr. Death gets a boost from the always reliable Nash's scintillating performance as a sardonic detective. Because the six pictures of the series were big studio second features, rather than impoverished independent "B" productions, a lot of mileage was made out of small budgets by borrowing sets from other, often bigger productions and by tapping a stable of on-the-payroll solid character actors such as Nash, Thomas Gomez, Milburn Stone, Douglas Dumbrille, Lloyd Bridges, and Ralph Morgan. While tacky looking in places, these little flicks are not without artistic merit. Though seldom mentioned in the context, all six movies are fine examples of the period film noir style, all loaded with night scenes, darkly shadowed and obliquely angled cinematography, femme fa-tales, doom-laden ambiance, and themes of murder, corruption, and betrayal. All the Sanctums are well-acted, well-directed, handsomely filmed, and stylishly scored.
Strange Confession and the rest of the Inner Sanctum series are enduring examples of how the big studios of Hollywood's Golden Era could turn out good-looking, entertaining pictures while only half-way trying. Once you have watched the entire series on Universal's economically priced album of meticulously restored DVD's, you may wish, as yours truly does, they had made sixty of them, instead of only six!