Film review: The Squeaker (1937)

AKA: Murder on Diamond Row:

Watching this made me appreciate Hitchcock more.  It's a British thriller, set in London, featuring Robert Newton 

(as a sort-of bad guy who we root for because he's trying to leave his life of crime and set up with the beautiful [at least, I think we're supposed to think so] Teutonic nightclub singer Tamara) 

and Alastair Sim (already looking old at 37, and chewing the scenery as a comic Scottish reporter), but neither is the lead good guy (a Canadian called Edmund Lowe) or bad guy.  The "Squeaker" is a mysterious figure who buys jewels off jewel thieves but will shop them to the police if they displease him (i.e., he "squeaks" - presumably the British pre-war equivalent of squealing).  Meanwhile he is mastermind of organized crime in London (allegedly).  The cops can't catch him, but in looking over a lineup of suspects in the latest jewel robbery, the chief inspector spies an ex-detective of his (Lowe), clearly down on his luck (much is made of his disreputable stubble).  Turns out alcohol has been his downfall since last he worked for the Yard.  The chief inspector gives him a chance to prove he can stay clean and recruits him to catch the squealer.  He quickly latches on to the idea that the Squeaker would be likely to employ ex-cons (on whom he has dirt and can thus squeal) and gets Sim's character to suggest a name.  This turns out to be Frank Sutton, a business big-shot whose girlfriend is the daughter of the founder of the company.  This daughter (Ann Todd, whose diction could cut glass - she's practically a caricature of a BBC announcer) quickly falls for our hero (once he's shaved off that stubble).  

Meanwhile, the Squeaker squeaks on Robert Newton's character and the cops get him, but he makes a daring escape from the Yard and, after visiting Tamara one last time, goes to take revenge on the Squeaker.  But he gets shot!  And Sutton blames our hero, not knowing that he's an undercover cop!  This all leads up to a denouement that is very melodramatic.  Not Korda productions' finest hour, I have to say.