Wow, Nancy Drew all grown-up! And in a dual role to boot! Bonita Granville may be slightly miscast as a film-noir-type femme fatale (the role of the kinder, sweeter sister seems to suit her better),but she gives an honest, heartfelt performance anyway. The rest of the cast is fine. The film is a little slow-moving (it feels longer than its <70 minutes of running time),but fans of twisty-turny whodunits will find a lot to like here; Cornell Woolrich's story uses a daring storytelling device that was also employed by Agatha Christie in one of her most famous books; of course I won't spoil it for you by mentioning which one! **1/2 out of 4.

Army buddies Mike Carr and Johnny Dixon are roommates after the war. They get involved with twins Linda and Estelle Mitchell (Bonita Granville). When Linda dies, suspicion falls on Johnny who was dating her. Alex Tremholt is the fatherly longtime renter at the Mitchell home. Detective Heller investigates. In the present time, Mike is narrating the story while discussing it with a bartender.

This has classic noir construction. One twin is good and the other is bad. It's a B-movie. It's stripped down. The actors are functional. Bonita Granville is doing both twins. They could differentiate the twins a bit more. I wonder if they should put on a wig for one of them. It's not the best acting nor the worst. There is some big over-acting. It has overwrought noir style although the camera work is mostly perfunctory. The story has plenty of turns which functions well and I like the final twist which is meant to overturn the audience's expectations. The filmmaker is able to execute this classic twist by underplaying him. It's well done.

In 1946, Olivia De Havilland donned monogram brooches and identity necklaces to take the dual role of good and bad twins Ruth and Terry in Robert Siodmak's The Dark Mirror. The following year Bonita Granville followed suit, as good and bad twins Linda and Estelle, in Monogram's sub-basement adaptation of a Cornell Woolrich story. Of the two, The Guilty is the creepier, more haunting movie, taking a place of dubious honor amid the nether reaches of film noir.

Mustachioed Don Castle shares his walk-up flat with his superior from army days, Wally Cassel, who's a little unstable owing to a head injury sustained in combat. They're involved in a complicated foursome with the twins; when one of the fellows breaks up with one of the girls, the other takes up with the ditched sister. But the insanely jealous Estelle keeps playing one guy off the other; she wants both and her sister to have neither. One night Linda disappears; later her body is found on a rooftop, in a barrel of gravel (she was too big to shove down the incinerator shaft). Police investigator Regis Toomey encounters a baffling maze of alibis and false clues (Castle is on the hunt as well),until the movie ends with climaxes within climaxes.

All this takes place in but three sleazy sets: The men's apartment; that of the twins, their mother and a long-time boarder (John Litel); and a corner bar from which most of the story is narrated in flashback. A few forays into the dark, deserted streets only enhance the claustrophobia, the obsessiveness of Woolrich's nightmare vision. (And his obsessive fiction reuses the same themes and gambits over and over; there are parallels here to the same year's The Fall Guy, which resembles The Black Angel, which...).

Granville, of course, will ever be the screen embodiment of Nancy Drew, from the four programmers she starred in as the teenaged sleuth during the late '30s. Her career started to sputter in the next decade; for one thing her girlish exuberance didn't blossom into womanly glamor. But she developed a tough, no-nonsense, very-'40s face (not unlike Ann Savage's). Her noir appearances were limited to a small (but meaty) role in The Glass Key and a leading one in the low-budget Suspense. It's a shame, because grew up into quite a good bad girl.