Convoluted and confusing as you might expect from a Marlowe tale. This one is hampered more by the cast lead by a frumpy Claire Trevor as the femme fatale and an even frumpier Dick Powell as the paunchiest Marlowe ever! It's compelling for a while but then becomes tiresome and ridiculous. Powell's wise guy dialogue is spewed out at a machine gun pace and if he's such a good detective how is it that Mike Mazurki constantly hovers over his desk without him noticing? Go for the Bogart instead.
Review of Murder, My Sweet
