Stanwyck’s Fatal Phone Call: ‘Sorry, Wrong Number’ 1948

Barbara Stanwyck, A+ in an atypical role, as a weak, wealthy woman, who overhears
a plan for murder, in 1948's film noir suspense film, "Sorry, Wrong Number."

*Spoiler alerts ahead*

The 1948 movie version of Sorry, Wrong Number caused some criticism with some critics and film fans at the time—and even thereafter. It was adapted from an instant classic radio play by Lucille Fletcher. The star was Agnes Moorehead as a rich hypochondriac who overhears a phone conversation of a plot to commit murder that very night. It then turns out she is to be the victim! The radio play was a one-character show, offering a tour de force for Moorehead. 

When Paramount and Hal Wallis snapped up the film rights, casting a star name was standard to carry a movie. I think a number of mature actresses could have been great in the role, but Hal picked one of his favorites, Barbara Stanwyck.

The gradual unraveling of Leona Stevenson when she realizes that she is to be a
 murder victim is superbly played by Barbara Stanwyck in "Sorry, Wrong Number."

Since then, there’s been a bit of a bias against the movie version, favoring the radio play. It goes something like this: Hollywood buys the rights of the half hour play, casts a big movie star and pads it out to 90 minutes. But the play is far superior, in less time, don’t you know. This is why I never bothered to see the film version of Sorry, Wrong Number until recently.

Agnes Moorehead, who originated the role of Leona Stevenson
for radio, in "Sorry, Wrong Number."

I get the criticism, but I still prefer the film. I'm not of the school that Agnes Moorehead was robbed and that the movie version was watered down because it was fleshed out to 90 minutes. (Playwright Fletcher also wrote the movie screenplay). Aggie was a great actress, but listening to her become increasingly hysterical, with her naturally querulous voice escalating, was more grating than great, for me. Agnes won much praise for her supporting scenes as a nympho neurotic in Dark Passage the year before, but Moorehead’s few scenes were plenty for me. I can’t imagine 90 minutes of Agnes’ overstated shrillness front and center. I much preferred Barbara Stanwyck’s contrasting understatement. The back story brought Sorry, Wrong Number to just shy of 90 minutes, which was just right, typical for a noir thriller.

Barbara Stanwyck was a no-nonsense woman who usually played strong characters, is quite good in the role of an unsympathetic, spoiled daddy's girl. Stanwyck's innate likability makes Leona Stevenson more empathetic, despite the fact the character is basically a royal pain. Stanwyck was one of the acting greats of her era and goes from imperious to insecure to incoherent with fear and helplessness, all without overacting. 

By the finale of 1948's "Sorry, Wrong Number," Barbara Stanwyck's spoiled
rich matron is at the end of her tether--and soon, her life!

The movie is filled out with flashbacks of Leona and her bought and paid for husband Henry's relationship. There, the tough side of Stanwyck as Leona fits Barbara like a glove. Their courtship and relationship is skillfully depicted, especially as the marriage deteriorates. Henry wants to make his own way, working for her father, while the father and daughter both want a docile pet. This causes Henry to eventually take drastic action, as he gets mixed up with unsavory characters that end up calling in to collect on their favors to him. Henry has to take drastic action, putting a hit out on his wife.

A flashback scene of the woman used to getting what she wants is more familiar
 Barbara Stanwyck territory, in 1948's "Sorry, Wrong Number."

The scenes of Barbara’s deluxe lifestyle is intermingled with her father’s crude depiction of wealth and the drug dealing criminals husband Henry gets mixed up with, which is depicted in jarring film noir style.

The cast is terrific, from Stanwyck, down to Ed Begley, Sr. playing her tough dad, to William Conrad as a chilling baddie, and Ann Richards as Henry's good-hearted former girlfriend. Burt Lancaster is well-cast, since he could be strong or shady, though this isn’t the kind of role that makes for a great leading man. A bit like when Kirk Douglas played Barbara Stanwyck’s even weaker bought husband in 1946’s The Strange Love of Martha Ivers. Both Burt and Kirk soon got away from supporting film divas as weasels and driving in their own movie vehicles.

Burt Lancaster, in one of his early roles, as the trophy husband for rich girl
Barbara Stanwyck in 1948's "Sorry, Wrong Number."

The film version of Sorry, Wrong Number is extremely stylish, right from the opening credits, and you are sucked right in. At the end, as the noisy city train roars by, when Leona is killed in her luxury apartment, is another statement of lifestyles juxtaposed against one another.

The 1948 film version of "Sorry, Wrong Number" is stylish suspense right from
the opening credits!

Sorry, Wrong Number has had various TV versions starring such diverse actors as Mildred Natwick, Shelley Winters, and Loni Anderson! Geraldine Page would have been great as the high-strung heiress in the ‘60s or early ‘70s.

The direction by Anatole Litvak is strong, and he would direct Olivia de Havilland in The Snake Pit the same year. The cinematography by Sol Polito is perfect for a film noir suspense film, as stylish as his work in 1940’s The Letter with Bette Davis. The score by Franz Waxman is powerful and dramatic, elevating the suspense. Edith Head, a designer fave of Stanwyck’s, heightens the storytelling with Barbara’s gowns depicting youth and wealth in the flashback scenes, and her expensive but fussy-looking dressing gown as the bedridden matron.

Barbara Stanwyck as the younger Leona, dressed in soft ermine, against a childhood
portrait of herself, in 1948's "Sorry, Wrong Number."

The main set, with Leona’s whining following all the way down the winding stairs, past the servants’ rooms, to the foyer, and the kitchen, all depicting an expensive lifestyle, but no signs of life.

In the finale, in true noir style, the married couple let their guard down during the final phone call. But it’s too late, the plan is put into action, and the chilling final line is the title of this movie!

Here’s my look at the more charming side of Barbara Stanwyck, in 1945’s holiday favorite, Christmas in Connecticut: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2017/12/christmas-in-connecticut-1945.html

 

Interesting moment in 1948's "Sorry, Wrong Number," when Barbara Stanwyck's spoiled rich woman catches herself in a rare moment of seeing her actual self.