Joseph H. Lewis delivers Hitchcockian suspense and some menacing Gothic ambiance with My Name is Julia Ross, a paranoia-drenched tale of conspiratorial deceit and madness set in an ominous seaside mansion. Nina Foch’s titular out-of-work heroine, having seemingly missed her opportunity for a life of comfort and leisure when she allowed engaged housemate Dennis (Roland Varno) to escape her clutches, gets a job working as the secretary for wealthy old Mrs. Hughes (Dame May Whitty) – or so she believes until she wakes up in a remote manor where everyone acts like she’s the crazy wife of Mrs. Hughes’ son Ralph (George Macready). It’s a murder-suicide cover-up plot of the most devious kind, and in the hands of Lewis (Gun Crazy), it’s a grand excuse to employ every trick in the Val Lewton handbook, from mysterious black cats and chiaroscuro lighting to an effectively eerie shadow of a hand creeping up Ross’ nighttime bed. Were it any more protracted, the supremely stylish film might lose some of its pulse-pounding steam; at a brisk 65 minutes, however, it’s a sterling example of noir thriller efficiency.
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