I’m not a Veronica Lake guy. A human charisma sump who nearly torpedoed Sullivan’s Travels, this hairstyle with
a mannequin under it sleepwalks through This
Gun for Hire as if she’s on gin, or quaaludes, or both. Pair her with Alan Ladd as an antihero with
absolutely zero redeeming qualities, and you have a recipe for disaster.

The story? Oh, some
noirish nonsense about men in fedoras and doublecrosses and spies and poison
gas. It clicks along ok, enlivened by excellent
character work from the aforementioned Preston, Marc Lawrence as a henchman who
takes particular pride in his work, Laird Cregar as an amorous nightclub owner, and Tully Marshall as the mastermind of the
aforementioned spies and poison gas storyline.
One could imagine this movie with Barbara Stanwyck or
Lana Turner – what a joy that would have been.
Unfortunately, with Veronica Lake front and center, it doesn't
quite work. How did this woman get a
career, anyway?