A sturdy film noir w/edges of camp from 1948. Dane Clark plays a boxer who after nearly losing a bout (he's saved by the bell) runs into a mysterious woman, Alexis Smith, where they soon have a whirlwind romance but one day she ups & disappears, but remembering a painting she bought was addressed to a doctor in New York, off he goes to find her in the Big Apple. Once there, he surprisingly finds her singing at a club where he gets belted when he tries to see her backstage. We then meet Zachary Scott, the club's owner & more importantly Smith's hubby & the dynamic of their relationship comes into focus as the doctor who received the painting, Jeffrey Lynn, is Smith's brother. Their marriage happened because Scott, who is wheelchair bound, blamed Lynn for a botched surgery to regain the use of his legs & browbeated Smith to marry him w/Lynn now a functional, pathetic drunk. Clark has impressed Scott w/his boxing prowess (especially after he floored one of his button men), & decides to be Clark's promoter/manager & w/Clark hellbent on taking out his anger in a series of bouts since at this point, Smith is lost to him. Pitched at a fever dream intensity w/Scott (ala Dr. Strangelove) controlling his world from a seated position makes for a goofy tale where he puts all in his wake through the proverbial wringer but once you get over the hilarious Scott comeuppance (he gets wheeled into oncoming traffic by Lynn), you almost feel bad for enjoying this lunacy in the first place. Also starring Alan Hale as Clark's cornerman, Eve Arden as a friend of Clark's & S. Z. Sakall as a café owner.
