![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5_M_eTu6HvhfKrslvTZYApAs5nM2hCCvRuNHsFF4ssNUS2C0AqdlcqShqgGZqOd5FTjTFg5szycZYJTFFMelZcLrv0V8URORO1kzWwO7m7Wrmk6XKYHeGZnbgtHn-Yj5j7L63KurMcs/s400/fingerprintsdontlie.jpg)
Sid Melton doing something very, very weird with a painting in Fingerprints Don't Lie (dir. Sam Newfield, 1951).
Another of those Luppert B-movies with people like Margia Dean, Tom Neal, and--heavens preserve us--Sid Melton. Sid Melton raises second-rate "comic relief" to the level of an art form. A degraded art form, yes.
Flimsy story involving a murdered mayor and faked fingerprints is fun to watch with drunk people. Look for Syra Marty as a blonde German (I think) model with an accent so unintelligible you can't even tell it's supposed to be an accent at first; she just sounds like one of the parents on a Charlie Brown TV special.
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