The Nones of Noir: Sorry, Wrong Number

Note: In film noir fashion, the phone becomes an instrument of the fickle finger of fate. Its use for overhearing conspiracies and failing to call for help underlines themes of miscommunication, helplessness, and modern alienation.

Sorry, Wrong Number
1948 / 1:29
Tagline: “Tangled Wires … Whispering of Murder! Tangled Lives … Fighting to Escape!”
[internet archive]

In Lucille Fletcher’s famous radio play a rich woman finds her imperious self in deep trouble when she overhears a murder plot on the party line, i.e. a telephone line shared by many subscribers in New York City in those long-ago days of public pay phones and soda fountains in drugstores.  

Paramount persuaded Fletcher to adapt the play for the silver screen.  To the 22-minute radio script, Fletcher added backstory with the film noir stand-by, flashbacks. The many flashbacks are seamlessly woven into the narrative (with even a flashback in a flashback) without any relief of the mounting tension of the rich woman, confined to her bed, on the phone, flipping her lid.

Barbara Stanwyck is superb. On one hand, her character is a familiar Stanwyckian fighter. A spoiled and selfish rich woman, she takes no prisoners as she irritably and commandingly barks orders and throws her weight around. On the other hand, her troubled soul is subject to panic attacks due to her fear of abandonment and fending for herself in a hostile dangerous world. Her distress gives her heart palpitations, chest pains and physical weakness. Dr. Wendell Corey claims she does not have a genuine cardiovascular problem but she is confined to her bed, unable to engage in activities of daily life, which probably worsens her case of nerves. Her untreated anxiety, which she’s apparently had since she was a child, makes it impossible for her to be anybody’s notion of a good wife

Burt Lancaster is effective as her husband from Grassville, a town name that broadcasts “wrong side of the tracks.” In the flashback of their courtship, he says, “There’s nothing nice or pretty about my life.” He evinces no love or respect for his mother, no sense of security and comfort related to a woman who had a drunken husband and eight little ingrates like Burt to take care of. Having a hole where he should have a little gratitude is one reason he doesn’t have the slightest inkling how to be a good husband.

Between Barbara’s anxiety and Burt’s broken emotions, no wonder their marriage is troubled. He didn’t realize when he married her that Barbara expected him to be either a poodle or a sextoy as required. Kicking against his pampered dependence, Burt strikes out on his own by orchestrating murky activity that draws the attention of the authorities and mobbed-up plug-uglies like William Conrad (who, like Raymond Burr, was a stout fellow often cast as the imposing villain; his voice was perfect). Some critics complain that virile and tough Lancaster is miscast as a cowardly drip but I would argue he was a similar mix of weak-brained and spineless in Criss Cross and Come Back Little Sheba.

Ann Richards plays the old girlfriend of Burt Lancaster.  Her odd voice – she sounds like a snooty bookworm - doesn’t seem to go with her Grassville origins or that her character is married to a poorly paid civil servant. She calls Barbara to tell why she thinks her special prosecutor husband is investigating Burt. The flashback of her following her lawyer husband and his colleagues to Staten Island is a great set piece. The subway station looks menacing even in daylight. Staten Island looks desolate, a bleak place where bad people get up to bad things.

As in many noir movies, sheer bad luck takes a hand when Barbara calls the police to report the murder plot. The desk cop is distracted by a baby who getting set to either bust his watch or creep off a table. It’s a funny scene in keeping with the all the other scenes in that it stokes nervous anticipation as to what in hell is going to happen next. Stanwyck’s mounting hysteria as the movie progresses is both terrifying and wonderful - this kind of cinematic excitement being exactly why film noir thrillers are so satisfying.

There are other stellar moments of tension. While Ann and Burt talk in a restaurant, they are constantly interrupted when they desperately need to talk and Burt is distracted by a shady European in the background. Makes the movie-goer want to throw something. Cadaverous Wendell Corey plays the doctor and it’s also exasperating when he is interrupted by his impatient wife while he’s in a phone booth. One of the few breaks in the tension is the montage of Barbara and Burt’s European honeymoon, the familiar “romantic idyll” montage that women’s movies inevitably had.

Despite her memorable performance, Barbara Stanwyck lost to Jane “Johnny Belinda” Wyman for Best Actress Oscar that year. I don’t take awards and prizes seriously so I don’t care, but there’re lots of movie-goers that still say Stanwyck was robbed. I don’t recommend movies very often but this is the rare movie where you know you are being played like a pinball machine but you don’t mind because the thrills are so delicious.