by Hans J. Wollstein
review
"Listen sister, if you wasn't such a dumb dame, you'd know you gotta be nice to me before you leave here," gramatically challenged mob kingpin Ricardo Cortez says after luring a bleach blonde Helen Twelvetrees to his lair in Bad Company. This little tête-à-tête is followed by one of those noisy early '30s shootouts with real machine guns and real bullets ripping across plaster walls. Earlier, director Tay Garnett had offered his version of the famous St. Valentine Day's Massacre, but between those highlights, both perfectly captured by Arthur Miller's fluid camera work, Bad Company is all talk and not very interesting talk at that.
