Danny Haley’s bookie operation is shut down, so he and his pals need money; when Danny meets Arthur Winant, a sucker from out of town, he decoys him into a series of poker games where eventually Winant loses $5000 that isn’t his…then hangs himself.
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Especially notable for presenting not-so-young upstart Heston as a thoroughly detestable lunkhead. A total prick, in fact, whose bogus redemption is rushed and absurd. Lizabeth Scott is a codependent wreck. It is creepy and dispiriting, but that was them times. There is still something about this film I like. I always like the noirs that suggest that the men who emerge from war are often broken, awful casks.