This one's a doozy. Dating from 1949, Scene of the Crime often plays more like a Coen Bros. movie set in the 1940's and filmed in black and white, except that the writer's ear for pastiche here isn't quite so well-tuned -- maybe this can be seen instead as the forerunner to Oscar-baiting schlock like Road to Perdition. Frankly, it's a wonder that this film isn't considered a classic by film professors and critics everywhere, considering how much it offers in term of overly articulated mannerist thrills cloaked in false significance ( much like the grandaddy of all such "fake art" films, Citizen Kane, or anything by Murnau. ) <br /><br />MGM is usually a studio that can do no wrong in my eyes, and I think any story, any atmosphere, even "gritty realism," can only benefit from grotesque overaestheticization. You could say I'm a disciple of the Minnelli school. But it takes a certain light touch to write mannered tough-guy dialogue of the Dashiell Hammett stripe, a willingness, perhaps, to let maybe one or two scenes pass without a line like "Careful, Mr. Wiggly, or you'll have thirteen fish to fry and no little wormies to catch them with." I made most of that up -- "Mr. Wiggly," unfortunately, made the cut -- but believe me, the dialogue is just that loonily inflated and riddled with non sequiturs. Even the lead cop's wife played by Arlene Dahl speaks like she has a moon-shaped scar under one eye and the Christian name Rocco. By the time Van Johnson turns in his badge with the line, "I'm sick to death of death and homicide," you'll wonder how the writer's fixation with ornate literary devices -- in this case, zeugma -- could ever have been misconstrued as "street." <br /><br />For those who have outgrown The Naked Gun series, this is the funniest cops-n-robbers film going.