For the life of me I've never been able to understand the appeal of this film. It strikes me as mediocre and unremarkable in almost every respect but maybe the photography. I never cared for David Raksin's famous music, either. Gene Tierney was never a compelling screen personality, and comes off better as a painting than as an actress. Dana Andrews was a good actor but not so remarkable here as to suggest why this was a "star making" film for him. Clifton Webb's character of the waspish Woollcott-like columnist Waldo Lydecker was considered quite "advanced" and "dangerous" at the time, as if somehow the president himself was being insulted, and I can't figure why. The dialogue is not especially witty, and one gets no sense of the "genius" of the man. Like nearly everyone else in the film he comes across as a nasty, vain, parasitic snob. Vincent Price got good reviews for this one, also, and while he is mildly amusing as a gigolo he's far from convincing. Maybe it's that the movie is so anti-New York at a time when Hollywood worshipped at the Big Apple's feet. Otto Preminger's direction is as far as I can see invisible. This occasionally fascinating film-maker did far better work later on. Overall, the movie feels flat to me. Since there's no one to like, the story gets tedious awfully fast. Laura was, however, hugely influential, and made effete villains for a while all the rage. Some of the similarly-themed films made in its wake,--The Dark Corner, The Unsuspected--actually hold up a lot better.