DEADLY DUO (1962)

The first thing to notice about this film, released in early 1962, is the seemingly stock music opening with a prominent xylophone. It may remind you of a Hanna-Barbera cartoon. This is the exact music used in many parody skits concerning a nostalgic lifestyle. The meager production budget is not terribly apparent but it is an old premise of good and evil twins, played by Marcia Henderson. I was a little uncertain if the twins represented the movie's title. One twin is a well-behaved widow raising her young son. Not deadly. The blonde, conniving evil twin is married to Robert Lowry, the perennial bad guy who, in this film, looks particularly sleazy in a black blazer, open-collar shirt with a white ascot. Drink in hand. Got it. This is the duo.

Good twin’s husband was killed in a racing accident. He was to be the heir to a mega industry’s throne. His mother, Irene Tedrow, is the CEO. She wants good twin’s little boy to be the future heir and feels he should be tailored in the States, by her side, and not in Acapulco. She and her attorney want struggling Los Angeles attorney, handsome Craig Hill, to bring him back. Close your eyes and Hill may turn into Bob Cummings. He is repulsed by the idea of buying her a grandson and refuses. We next see him checking in at a hotel. The 50k he will be paid reminded him of how lovely Acapulco can be. 

Naturally, good twin rejects the absurd idea, and Hill is shown the door. But Hill and good twin hit it off on their second meeting. Hill has a natural rapport with her son. After getting off to a rocky start, they like each other. Henderson is believable as the good twin but her clichéd acting and blonde wig as the bad twin does not come off as well. 

Lowry double-crosses good twin. Did not see that coming. He convinces her to take a restful day to herself so he can tamper with her car and lie to Hill that good twin has changed her mind and is willing to sign the papers to send her son back to Tedrow. A confused Hill blasts away to the house in his cool 1961 Thunderbird rental car. A scene that is repeated about four times in the film. The bad twin awaits in good twin's brunette wig and signs the papers. Hill does not question her sudden change of heart but is visibly angry at her.

Head-strong Tedrow, with her attorney in tow, flies to Mexico after the attorney’s phone conversation with Hill suggests there is a problem with accepting her offer. Upon arrival at the airport, they see Lowry tampering with good twin's car. How this is possible I do not know, but it is incredible timing on their part. I am surprised they even recognize him. Once an "accident" is arranged for good-twin, Lowry and bad-twin are confident they will inherit 500k from her sister’s will. With all legal parties present, good twin walks into the room. Bad twin is stunned. Lowry a tad queasy.

The ending is a contrived happy one as everyone is now pleased with each other. The boy can stay with mom and Hill loses 50k faster than a Bernie Madoff investor. His trustworthy handling of the affair, however, endears him to the attorney as a future partner.

NAKED ALIBI (1954)

This Universal International Pictures release may give you the impression it is a sequel to either “Crime Wave” or “The Big Heat.” Two of its main stars play similar roles here. In short, we have seen this one numerous times. You will need to overlook the typical sets, a dubbed vocal and erratic plot. The eighty-six-minute film was directed by Jerry Hopper and produced by Ross Hunter, both of whom had numerous television projects to their credit. Sterling Hayden is once again a wooden police lieutenant. Unsympathetic. Strictly business. He is bent on pinning a policeman’s murder on Gene Barry. Sympathizers of Barry believe it is nothing more than police harassment. But “Dirty Hayden” has issues. He is caught on camera roughing up Barry. The photo is published. He is fired. But he is convinced Barry is no good. He sets out to find him on a dark and grimy Mexico studio set.

Barry, the gentle owner of a local bakery, also frequents Mexico on “business trips” to reconnect with bad girl and nightclub singer, Gloria Grahame. The actress with a permanent fever-blistered upper lip appearance because of her towering Philtrum ridges and pronounced Cupid's Bow. To say nothing regarding her slight overbite with noticeable, tiny "S's." Barry is not the innocent flour thrower we were led to believe. Grahame gets roughed up by Barry, depending on his temperament, but nothing like her devastating scene in “The Big Heat.” Given Grahame’s early roles she should have seen this coming.

As the mundane script plays out, you get the distinct feeling Hayden has got a hold of something besides Grahame. You may actually end up liking him. As for the title, Barry's alibi is the bakery. Once he is apprehended he reveals himself, so to speak, to be a gangster. Naked to the underworld.

THE GANGSTER (1947)

This eighty-four-minute film was directed by Gordon Wiles with production handled by King Brothers Production (Frank and Maurice). It is from a screenplay by Daniel Fuchs and Dalton Trumbo. Distributed by Allied Artists Pictures, it is one of the most stylish noir films thanks to Paul Ivano's cinematography. Just one of the many standouts in this classic film. The limited-budget film might remind you of a "Playhouse 90" with one gigantic set.

The title role of Shubunka (an original name if there ever was one) is played by Barry Sullivan in his breakout leading role. He is excellent as a small-time numbers racketeer who arrogantly thinks he is unstoppable. His front for the racket is an ice cream shop owned by his partner, Akim Tamiroff. In hock up to his eyeballs is John Ireland, who frequents the shop pleading with Tamiroff to give him an advance. He eventually comes to blows (literally) with Tamiroff. Ireland’s wife is played by Virginia Christine who is always pleading with him to come home for the mountain-grown coffee she just percolated.

Sullivan’s infatuation with a nightclub singer, played by Belita (the real-life ballerina and ice skater) takes a toll on his finances, buying her everything. Unknown to Sullivan, a rival, Sheldon Leonard, is planning to muscle him out of business. But Sullivan refuses to believe what a frightened Tamiroff tells him. Or that Belita is in on the takeover.

Sullivan’s riveting, rapid monologue in the last half is memorable. Truly 'told with bullet force' as the poster suggests. The low camera angle pointed toward the checkerboard ceiling makes him appear bigger than he is. It is a reality check for the viewer. Angrily he comes down on the shop cashier, Joan Lorring, in an effort to justify his lifestyle to all beneath him. Viewers soon realize that this cynical character is rather insecure and all his “accomplishments” are the result of tough talk and limited resources with no lasting impact.

Note: Tamiroff's soda jerk, Harry Morgan, offers the only light moments in the film as a man of the world who wants anyone within earshot to know how he treats a real lady. An expert on the subject with little evidence as proof.

STOPOVER TOKYO (1957)

I have read that Robert Wagner was not pleased with this film. It shows. His low energy delivery makes you wonder if he understands his role: an intelligence agent. Mumbling his lines seemingly without moving his lips. Rarely more than a blank face. Though he had some diverse mid-century roles as career highlights, he is generally not known for standout performances. Never mind. His good looks, wit, and charm turned him into a first-rate celebrity who could do no wrong.

In this unexciting tale of Communist espionage, mundane conversation and the attempt to stop an assassination plot, is Wagner’s equal-billed co-star, Joan Collins. She’s an airline travel receptionist who cannot understand why Wagner is secretive and aloof. Neither that interested in one another any more than the audience is interested in finding out what happens next. Somehow, after only three days and as many conversations, she confesses her love for Wagner. Happens all the time to RJ. I expected Wagner to say, “Terrific” at least once. His favorite word as Alexander Mundy some eleven years later.

Reiko Oyama, in her only screen role, is cute as the daughter of Wagner’s Japan contact. He finds it difficult to tell her that her father will be gone for a long time. He starts a bedtime story that in a subtle way may help explain her father’s murder. He never finishes the story. She falls asleep. Wagner is that boring.

Edmond O’Brien, as he often can, delivers an over-the-top performance. It is pretty embarrassing to watch his character, which never develops into anything threatening. He is nearly a buffoon in one particular scene. Buffoons are rarely on the CIA’s most-wanted list.

Note: Filmed in CinemaScope, this one-hundred-minute film was directed by Richard Breen, in his only directing assignment, and produced by Walter Reisch for 20th Century Fox. Perhaps because of its beautiful cinematography of Japan and its two attractive co-stars, the film did make a small profit. This final, thinly disguised Mr. Moto novel by John P. Marquand, might be one to remember for the aforementioned attributes but Mr. Moto's character was completely dropped from the script. Probably for the best. Peter Lorre never got a casting call.

DIPLOMATIC COURIER (1952)

There is potential to make this early Cold War story a noteworthy Tyrone Power career jump-starter. Though forgotten, it may surprise you how good it might have been. It was directed by Henry Hathaway and produced by Casey Robinson from his and Liam O'Brien's screenplay. The ninety-eight-minute crime drama was distributed by 20th Century Fox with music composed by Sol Kaplan. Of course, Power turns in a solid performance as a favored diplomatic courier of the state department. Almost as good as his stunt double in the sparse action scenes. But there are plot shifts of interest. Intriguing, if not thrilling, the poster does its best to convince this film is a real nailbiter.

Patricia Neal's character, not by pure happenstance, meets up with Power on a flight to Salzburg and her acting is just plain annoying. She seems to be doing her best Tallulah Bankhead impression. Slurred S’s and rapid, witty comebacks trying very hard to be attractive to Power. Her mink coat helps. But soon even Power finds her annoying as she turns up everywhere he goes. He wonders what her game is.

Power becomes involved with Hildegard Kneff, the actress with the tiny "afterthought" credit, playing a Russian spy. Perhaps. She works with Power’s good friend and courier connection, played by James Millican, who has no dialogue after thirty minutes into the film, revealing his fate. Power begins to realize he is also in danger. The never subtle Karl Malden plays a military MP lending backup protection for Power. His superior officer is played by Stephen McNally, in an actual good guy part.

Power rescues Kneff from a Russian agent just before the words "THE END" appears on the screen. How the studios time that so precisely when dialogue runs out has always fascinated me.

DESPERATE (1947)

This strong film is another Anthony Mann early noir effort that includes great camera angles and lighting by cinematographer George E. Diskant. It arises from a story by Mann and Dorothy Atlas. It is a dandy display of characters with an intelligent screenplay by Harry Essex. This seventy-three-minute RKO Radio Pictures release was produced by Michael Kraike with the ever-present Paul Sawtell composing the score.

Steve “B-movie” Brodie, not his usual bad guy here, and Audrey Long play newlyweds, expecting their first child after four months of marriage. Brodie is an independent trucker who unexpectedly reconnects with a svelte Raymond Burr. He puts the "hood" in childhood friend. Burr is now a mobster with plans to smuggle illegal merchandise using Brodie and his truck but he wants no part of it even after taking a beating. The swinging overhead lamp, back and forth over Burr’s face will be memorable. Believable makeup for Brodie’s beating and swollen cheek should also be noted. Burr threatens the wife if he does not go through with it. This hardly ever happens in films. Burr’s kid brother was captured during the film's opening heist and is set to be executed for killing a cop. Burr turns a bit psycho because of it and wants Brodie to confess to the shooting. His life for his brother’s. Brodie manages to escape on his second attempt. The only thing on his mind is his wife’s safety.

Perhaps because of the film’s fast pace, script logic takes a back seat. The elusive couple quickly takes the next train out of town. Switches to a bus then steal a car. They are not sure where they are going nor does the audience have any idea where they are coming from. I could not figure where the story opens but guess Chicago. Maybe I missed something. Never mind the couple’s increasing back rent and their inability to stop mail delivery. The couple decides to head for Long’s aunt & uncle's Minnesota farm.

Meanwhile, the police attempt to apprehend Burr and his gang. Burr escapes with a gunshot wound that puts him out of circulation for two months. However, the hole in Burr’s stomach is smaller than any hole in this script. The trail seems impossibly cold then Burr’s cop-on-the-take checks Brodie’s unopened apartment mail. Specifically the one with a Minnesota return address. Burr is roughly a twelve-hour drive away, perhaps confirming his Chicago location. The farm no longer a safe haven, Brodie puts his wife on a bus for California while he deals with Burr. Guessing the climax time frame, Long may have only made it as far as Kansas City before being sent back to Chicago.

Note: The brief performance by Jason Robards, Sr. should not go unnoticed. He plays the laid-back, wise detective who is more often than not filing his nails nonchalantly when in conversation. His unflappable performance is fun to watch. When Brodie attempts to turn himself in, Robards sees his confession as just convenient lies. But he lets him go simply to track him and capture the entire gang. I would think it not an easy task judging by Brodie’s earlier elusive transportation behavior. But Robards pops up at every turn. He soon discovers Brodie is on the level and both want to end Burr's criminal career.

-30- (1959)

This over-scripted box office flop would almost appear to be a television series pilot movie. Directed and produced by Jack Webb for his Mark VII Limited Company, this part sitcom, part drama, reveals the day’s happenings in the life of a competitive Los Angeles newspaper. Always a stickler for realism, Webb uses it here to a fault, with ingratiating dialogue slightly embarrassing as if you are an uninvited guest to a private party.

The somber opening with soap opera score under white titles against a stark black background quickly switches to a "cha-cha theme song" used occasionally throughout the film. Ray Heindorf's music score is certainly an odd mix. There is enough humor in the film, however, that the cha-cha tune starts to, strangely, make some sense. Webb appears to have taken "77 Sunset Strip," "Ben Casey" or "Lassie" themes of the period and suggested using them with select scenes. The film's portrayal of a big city newspaper is dated since every department head possesses the personal discernment to never politicize a story.

The film, set entirely in a newspaper office set, can be momentarily captivating with enough personal issues to tug at your heartstrings. One example, Whitney Blake plays the on-screen wife of Webb who wants him to accept the idea of adoption. Their past finds it difficult for him to make such a commitment. Another is the search for a small child who may have drowned. Both challenges weigh heavily on Webb's conscience.

Though respectably acted, there are enough uncomfortable moments to make you cringe as the occasionally corny scrip by William Bowers jumps from tearjerker to comedy. William Conrad's face fills the screen as he opens the film. He has been provided the most comedic dialogue. His performance is so over the top you may find yourself blushing as he chews up the office furniture. He berates copy boys, David Nelson specifically, throughout the eighty-eight-minute film making it a recurring amusing device. Conrad's delivery will probably make you chuckle. Still, his character is unnecessarily crude. Underlying all his toughness, though, is a large sensitive man with an enlarged heart. I will say, Webb gives his most animated performance with a full range of emotions and comes in a close second to Conrad's funny quips. He is fun to watch. Momentary humorous encounters include a young staffer, Richard Bakalyan, who has the honor to escort a prominent couple to view the newspaper's operation in full swing with all the limited experience he can muster. His run-in with "staff artist" Richard Deacon puts him in his place in comedic form. Look for William Bell, Howard McNear, and Joe Flynn. I found the closing credits, visually identifying the actors and their portrayed characters, not worthy of the style. It is an odd choice for something other than an epic historical film.

Note: The term "-30-" signified "the end," originating from several code tables for telegraph operators. The title was used at the end of this movie and explains its meaning. Ironically, it was the end to Webb's Warner Bros. contract. 

THE CROOKED WEB (1955)

Columbia Pictures released this Clover Production movie. The mid-20th century story and screenplay by Lou Breslow illustrate the reality of what the future Internet will be like. That not everything you see or read is true. It is a tale of clever deception so carefully planned that it has taken ten years to co-ordinate. Calling the premise a “con” is an understatement as seemingly everyone from America to Germany, on sea and land, has their role to play no matter how small, to capture Frank Lovejoy for his decade-old crime. Joining Lovejoy is handsome Richard Denning along with Mari Blanchard, California’s oldest carhop. This seventy-seven-minute drama was directed by Nathan Juran.

What the poster has to do with this film is a mystery. That lady is not in this movie. Lovejoy and Blanchard plan to wed and the audience is neatly strung along for thirty minutes until Denning shows up as her ne’er do well “brother,” establishing the crooked part. He has the scheme to unearth “buried treasure” left behind at the end of WW2, located within a current Army reservation. Just the amount of resources Lovejoy needs for a comfortable life in another country. Plenty of twists and deceptions to make this a pretty fun outing.

As trained government agents, Denning’s cleverness and Blanchard’s attractiveness come into play numerous times to regain Lovejoy’s confidence and quell his suspicions. Lovejoy comes off rather bland, to the point of almost being a bit dense. Hopefully, that was the way he wanted to play it. Logically, he never suspects anyone would spend a decade setting him up. He does fear a double-cross and at the last moment confesses to Blanchard of his past and seals his fate. Finding out who Blanchard really is offered him no encouragement, either.

PASSPORT TO TREASON (1956)

This eighty-minute, Mid-Century Film Productions movie was released in America by Astor Pictures Corporation. Both are as forgettable as the film itself. It is one dark film, perhaps because the budget never allowed for any studio lighting. Though a fairly intelligent script, the film still generates a lot of fog.

At the height of his career, popular Western and television star Rod Cameron gets work overseas in modern-day London. The Candian-born actor's stoic persona and physical presence add credence as the lone American in this British film. His stiff, deadpan delivery never lights up the screen, however. A slow start might make you fast forward but there is no need. There is always a change of pace and the film climaxes right at the end, as low-budget movies tend to do. Not a lot of action, but the brief fistfight sound effects, however, suggest each blow completely crushes every facial bone of the opponent. A few years before her famous James Bond role, Lois Maxwell works for MI-5 to assist Cameron. She obviously had connections.

Cameron is the detective out to discover the hidden purpose of a peace organization. As to be expected, he is captured and given a truth serum to reveal what he knows. Also expected, he manages to escape at night, stealing a car to get away. Funny to think the influence of the serum made him weave erratically from lane to lane. In reality, he may actually be forgetting which side of the road to drive on.

Night scenes mostly cover a lot of potential editing mistakes and it is plenty dark. The film slightly brightens at the end. Still, it plays out more like an early Forties mystery. There is nothing intense and it is all quite familiar.

CAGE OF EVIL (1960)

One cannot assess lesser-known films fairly without understanding the era in which they were produced. This film could easily be dismissed as a cheap production simply because it is old and stars B-movie actors. While that is true, this is better than some might give credit. There are no surprises and the ending is an oft-used premise. Yet Zenith Pictures pulls together a fairly plausible story with enough suspense to keep you locked in. Introduced in documentary style, it is told through the eyes of a police lieutenant, played by John Maxwell (below right with Foster). He tells of the last assignment of a young, ambitious officer with a short future in the department. Maxwell’s high register, lackadaisical vocal narration would have been better suited for a lighthearted travelogue film.

Ron Foster stars in another Robert Kent Production, again with co-star, Harp McGuire. Foster is competent in this role coming from a wealth of experience in television dramas. This is one in only a handful of films for him. He is an officer who feels he is routinely being passed over for promotion. An officer with good intentions but goes afoul over Patricia Blair, the girlfriend of a diamond thief. She is, shall we say, well known in the underworld. Foster is assigned to shadow her in order to gain her confidence. Blair becomes temptation personified and holds the key to the cage in which they will soon find themselves. The two fall into a scheme to remove her boyfriend's future then fly to Mexico with stolen jewels. No one ever goes to Minnesota. Around every deceitful turn, they plunge deeper into futility and the viewer will not be surprised by any of it. The film ends in a shootout as the couple climbs higher and higher on the oft-used stairway to nowhere.

Note: Distributed by United Artists, the film was produced by Edward Small and Robert Kent, both adept at turning out decent crime dramas on a shoestring budget. The screenplay is by Orville Hampton based on his story and Alexander Richards. The title film score does not fit this movie, sounding more like a light comedy that might include dance numbers. Paul Sawtell did fine work, but Dimitri Tiomkin is what you want here. Look for young, future TV stars, Ted Knight and Henry Darrow near the end.

THE MAN WITH MY FACE (1951)

Not much to say here. It is a fantasy story with a cast that tries to sell the premise to the audience. United Artists had the courage to distribute this one for Edward F. Gardner Productions. The screenplay appears to have challenged the director, Edward Montagne, who was stumped on how to present this B-movie. Interpreting the novel of the same name were screen credits for the team of Tom McGowan, Samuel W. Taylor, and Vin Bogert.

Imagine arriving home one evening and someone who looks like you have taken over your life, your wife, your brother-in-law, and your bank account. No, I mean exactly like you. Even your wife believes you are an imposter. So the film is already in science fiction territory. This is a dupe that takes a lot of planning.

The original James Bond, Barry Nelson, stars, along with a cast of unknowns, in a film that is hard to fathom. In under fifteen minutes, the plot is revealed and the balance of the movie is assumed. You will find yourself always ahead of the script. The movie never convinces that there is a Nice Nelson and an Evil Nelson. Nice Nelson simply may be a bit loopy and is assumed to be the imposter. There may have been a Half Nelson in there somewhere. Talk about identity theft! But this is not supposed to be a science fiction movie. Not much of a film noir, either, though it falls into that category. Nice Nelson finds his picture plastered in every newspaper as the robber of 500k so the police are after him. Evil Nelson has trained Dobermans in pursuit of Nice Nelson, soon to be a man without a face. It certainly creates bad press for the breed. Let’s face it, this is more predictable than blinking. If you are interested in seeing Jack Warden in his movie debut then it is worth watching. He plays a friend who owns facial recognition software. Nah. Do not believe that either.

Note: A number of low-budget movies might have been more respected by shaving minutes and offering them free through television. Again, “The Alfred Hitchcock Hour” comes to mind.

ACCUSED OF MURDER (1956)

Filmed in Naturama, Republic’s answer to Paramount’s VistaVision, and Truecolor, where interior shots looked crisp and realistically, yet cold, this seventy-four-minute film is a pretty lackluster outing for a mostly competent cast. They lift this to a solidly average B-movie. Distributed by Republic Pictures, it is directed and produced by Joseph Kane, and is based on the novel, "Vanity Row" by W. R. Burnett. The seventy-four-minute screenplay is by Burnett and Robert Creighton Williams. A film probably dismissed once leaving the theater.

You witness a murder. You arrange to meet the assumed murderer, hitman Warren Stevens, with the intent of blackmail. How dumb do you need to be? Like Virginia Grey in this role. Her “dance for hire” job stinks and she looks marked for death from her first scene. After she confronts Stevens, he insists he did not commit any murder and decks Grey. But neither is quite through. She pesters him by phone later, with Stevens returning to severely beat her as a final warning. Grey will be the performance best remembered from this film.

Stevens is on a shortlist of suspects, the other being Vera Ralston, who portrays a singer, after a fashion, whose nightclub is frequented by Sydney Blackmer, an underworld lawyer. To him, her dubbed vocals are like sugar to a cockroach. I could have used closed captioning for some of her dialogue due to her thick accent. Despite this possible communication problem, Blackmer is interested in marriage, a thought that never occurred to her. He does not take her rejection gracefully.

During the investigation, the police lieutenant, David Brian, after hearing---translating---her story to his fellow officers, gets more involved with Ralston than official police procedures. His performance is the other one remembered. He is solid and believable, coming off strong yet compassionate. He is sympathetic toward Ralston believing she is innocent, though growing evidence provides doubts. Squint-eyed partner, Lee Van Cleef, pressures Brian, suggesting he has a conflict of interest. Cleef possesses a most unfortunate last name for an aspiring sergeant: Lackey. There are a few twists and curves to keep one guessing how Blackmer expired with an ending that may surprise you. But by shaving fifteen minutes never to be missed, it could have played better as an hour-long early television episode.

RAILROADED (1947)

Anthony Mann kept busy directing in the late forties. Distributed by Eagle-Lion Films, this seventy-two-minute film is based on a real-life case, forming the basis of a more famous film, Call Northside 777, the following year. This shoe-string budgeted film adds an extra dose of noir, so dark at times it is hard to see what’s going on. In the climactic scene, Hugh Beaumont and John Ireland aim guns in cave darkness better than most. With this very predictable, loaded script, one wonders how the police could accuse someone on hearsay and speculation and be such a bad judge of character. Obviously, things have not changed that much since. There is the usual suspense with questions and answers. Sheila Ryan is not a good judge of character either, as she assumes John Ireland is just having a bad day. Again. He was usually typecast as a bad guy or down and out loser. Hugh Beaumont, on the other hand, typically played a person in authority and is solid here as a thorough, cool and collected investigator. Just the opposite, Ireland loses his cool often with no sanctity for life.

Note: You may enjoy this one. The strangulated budget hurts the worse. Enjoy watching Beaumont's competent acting before "retiring" as an investigator and using his skills to figure out what Wally and Theodore are up to.

T MEN (1947)

Never a dull moment as Anthony Mann directs this story about U.S. Treasury men attempting to break up a counterfeiting ring. An excellent film noir with outstanding cinematography by John Alton and an appropriate score by Paul Sawtell. Amazing what could be done with a five-hundred-grand budget. For the same budget, Railroaded was released the same year yet it is nearly forgotten. Mann certainly redeemed himself for that earlier effort. Distributed by Eagle-Lion Films, this production cleaned up at the box office. The film is not flawless, but close. One script fumble is when a federal agent, Frank Ferguson, comes down hard on a shop owner for not noticing counterfeit bills. This is after the film established that it takes an expert, under a magnifying glass, to know the difference between real bills.

Navigating the viewer through some background detail is a narrator, the definitive and commanding, Reed Hadley. After an informer is murdered, the Treasury Department chooses Dennis O’Keefe and Alfred Ryder to go deep undercover. Each has a myriad of details to memorize so they can blend into the crime world without suspicion. O’Keefe is first-rate in a standout role, leaving his earlier music or comedy films behind. Both are vouched for and all goes according to plan. For a while. The creepy steam room scenes are a little unsettling. Or maybe it is just the thought of Wallace Ford sweating under a towel. O'Keefe visits several in a row, trying to track him down. In the end, he is so zapped of strength he can barely stand, noting he lost several pounds by the end of the hunt.

There are edge-of-your-seat moments: in transit with Ford, Ryder is spotted by a friend who uses his real name. To make matters more intense, she is with Ryder's wife. The two meet face to face. Covering for his undercover work, she says, "You are mistaken. My husband is taller and more handsome." Ryder is saved. Ford is suspicious. But none more intense than when O’Keefe witnesses his partner's murder and cannot do anything about it without blowing his own cover. Few were as heartless in film noirs than hitman, Charles McGraw. Always on the edge of violence with a voice that could, if one got close enough, leave abrasions on your face.

Note: This is one of ten films for the unknown Mary Meade, four of which are uncredited. She plays the nightclub photographer/counterfeit contact, Evangeline, during this peak period of her career. Much more success came to June Lockhart, here in her sixth post-World War II film as the wife of Alfred Ryder's character.

CRY DANGER (1951)

Directed by Robert Parrish, this seventy-nine-minute film noir was produced by W.R. Frank and Sam Wiesenthal. Hats off to William Bowers for writing snappy and glib dialogue for the two male leads, from Jerome Cady's story. The powerful score was written by Paul Dunlap and Emil Newman. Lending suspense to this movie is a speeding passenger train at night beneath the opening credits. Getting off the train by daybreak is Dick Powell, sent to prison for a robbery and murder he did not commit. His life sentence is drastically shortened when an alibi comes forward. 

Distributed by RKO Radio Pictures for Olympic Productions, this is a tidy crime drama with lots of fun dialogue as Powell seems to be carrying over his Richard Diamond radio character with its glib humor, acting more like an experienced P.I. than a blackmailed ex-con. Though there is a heavier dose of sarcasm here. The lines roll off him second to none. Few had his ability to spit out these comebacks so charmingly yet with a tough guy hidden underneath. The guy providing Powell's alibi and subsequent prison release, Richard Erdman, turns out to be a total stranger to Powell, and not serving in the same division during the previous war. Erdman, a war amputee, confesses that he is simply hanging around Powell in hopes of getting a reward from the stolen one hundred grand if it is recovered. Powell is suspiciously grateful for his fake alibi. 

Powell sets out to clear himself and another inmate—the husband of Ronda Fleming's character—sent up for the same crime. Most of the time she looks blandly aloof with a voice resembling a comforting cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows. Causing some speed bumps along the way is a detective, Regis Toomey, who shadows Powell. Toomey has plenty of reasons to follow Powell and one includes Fleming. 

Powell and Erdman end up sharing a singular grungy mobile home in the trailer park where Fleming lives. Erdman is immediately attracted to a sunbathing neighbor, Jean Porter, almost as much as he is to alcoholic beverages. Porter plays a scene-stealing tart, who, when not modeling, is a highly trained pickpocket, as Erdman finds out. He is the other glib character. A notable example is when he is recovering in the hospital after his Nash "Bathtub" is riddled with bullets, resulting in an improbable five-mile-per-hour dismantling of his car before exiting the trailer park. It was a case of mistaken identity as the hit was meant for Powell. From his hospital bed, he mockingly demands the police chief provide him with a new wooden leg. In knotty pine. To match his den.  

Adding a despicable element is William Conrad, the double-crosser who is responsible for Powell's incarceration. Powell's first pounding of Conrad knocks him to the floor. Late in the film, Powell returns, and with a one-armed swoosh to clear off Conrad's desk, demands he lie down on it. He tells him they get along better when he is on his back. It is an edgy scene for the era as Powell plays Russia Roulette with Conrad's head. The truth is expelled from Conrad.

Note: Eventually, David Janssen would be connected with three actors from this film. Toomey would revive a similar role during the first season of television's "Richard Diamond."  Janssen carried the Diamond torch at the suggestion of Powell. Of course, William Conrad provided the narration for Janssen's hit series, The Fugitive.

HIGHWAY 301 (1950)

Produced by Bryan Foy with a screenplay by Andrew Stone, who also directed, Warner Brothers released this disturbing eighty-three-minute B-movie noir starring a real-life bad boy, Steven Cochran. The film made a sizable profit. Narration by actor Edmon Ryan, also playing a detective, provides background in pseudo-documentary fashion. Appropriate as this film is a twenty-year update on the crime spree in the Thirties by the Tri-State Gang through the nation's east coast. So the viewer is not exiting the highway that connects three states any time soon. Common for the era of low-budget crime films are comments by three of the east coast's Governors that suggest the tri-state crime is once and for all finished.

The film has all the noir visuals one would expect but it is not perfect. Standard fare in one sense, the film holds one's attention with a well-paced script. Cochran is a ruthless gang leader and cold-blooded killer. The film was a bit of a shocker during its day. His (once) girlfriend is making disparaging remarks about the truth behind the gang's activities. There are startling scenes as he tracks her down in her attempt to leave town. The apartment's elevator ascends to where she waits. As the elevator doors open, he shoots her in the back while she heads for the stairs. Needless to say, the elevator operator is a bit shaky when trying to hit the down button. Noted is the film debut of television's perennial bad guy, Robert Webber. His girl is Gaby André. After discovering the gang's real business, she wants out. There are tense scenes as she attempts to escape from Cochran. Scenes where composer William Lava does his best Dimitri Tiompkin impression. The future gets bleak for two others in the gang after playing dodge bullet with the police. B-movie regular, Richard Egan, has a small role as a fourth wheel in the gang, on-call as needed. Virginia Grey's character cannot be without a portable radio and her favorite program: organ music. Grey provides the wisecracks. With André recovering from a Cochran bullet in the hospital, he devises a ridiculous plan to infiltrate the hospital to finish her off. He thrusts Grey into a role as a newspaper reporter with a handgun and finds herself quickly in over her head with Ryan stationed next to André's room. Her constant lying buries her. After a shootout escaping the hospital, Wally Cassell's character accepts a bullet or two. Cochran meets a more definitive end facing down...well...it is worth the wait.

Note: Virginia Grey always reminded me of a bad composite drawing of Loretta Young and Lucille Ball.

JOHNNY DARK (1954)

This Universal Picture's release is a fast-paced film about a talented, young and ambitious automobile engineer, Tony Curtis with a private investigator's name, working for an independent manufacturer.  Curtis An outstanding poster illustration tells all you need to know about this movie. The eighty-five-minute film was directed by George Sherman and produced by William Alland. The actors have nothing to apologize for but it was soon shelved in the minds of moviegoers in light of Curtis' rising career. Yet this film is far more fun to watch than a similar racing-themed release the following year, The Racers, a soap opera with cars starring Kirk Douglas.

Of course, there is a love interest. Petite Piper Laurie, also on a career upswing, plays an up-and-coming automotive designer, making it the only real ground-breaking aspect of the film. Don Taylor plays Curtis' best friend, fellow driver, and competitor of Laurie's affection. Taylor wreaks the race car prototype and Curtis thinks he was showing off. Curtis has to eat crow when it is discovered there was an engineering malfunction in the brakes which Curtis had been warned about. But the two competitor's relationship is never the same. Much of the first reel includes the mundane happenings of engine testing with no dialogue. The stodgy automotive founder, Sidney Blackmer, wants no part of any sports car in his lineup, demanding the company stick with cars that seat six, the standard American family. But his long-time engineer, Paul Kelly, believes in Curtis' idea, which sets up an inconsequential rift between them. Blackmer softens his stance, finding a place for a sporty model in the company’s roster, after Curtis places in the top three of a long-distance rally race. 

In hindsight, perhaps the most interesting aspect today is the vintage racing sequences in period sports cars captured by cinematographer Carl Guthrie. Of note is Curtis's vehicle of choice (and the film's promotional car) is the Woodill Wildfire (above), an American-made sports car to compete alongside the Europeans. A climactic Canada to California rally race is nicely filmed from the air amid spectacular scenery. A mounted camera on the front of a filming car, weaving fast through mountain roads, is a dizzying experience. Beyond that, it is standard fare for the period with Curtis and Taylor “speeding” in their studio prop cars ahead of projected back screen competition. I imagine this was a must-see for teen fans of Curtis and Laurie with many licensed drivers leaving the theater wanting to get their hands on a Jaguar XK120.

Note: Don Taylor had a versatile career in acting but most have forgotten him due to his supporting roles. He gained more fame as a director for some of the most popular television series of the Sixties. His skills led him to direct several major films from the Seventies to the Eighties. His second marriage in 1964 was to English actress, Hazel Court, of British horror film fame. They remained together until his death did them part.

FRONTIER RANGERS (1959)

If this smells to you like an early television series, your sensory perception is above average. Not much to add here. Directed by Jacques Tourneur with a screenplay by Gerald Adams, it was compiled from three edited episodes of the series “Northwest Passage” distributed by MGM, not Disney. These compilations make the “movie” highly episodic finding yourself off-subject at least three times. Much of Raoul Kraushaar's background music is hacked together with some unusual results. A child-like opening theme song sets the stage for kids in boomer land. As a television series, however, I can imagine a twelve-year-old looking forward to the next week's episode. Assuming your parents approved. Yet some of the action can be a bloody affair as Indians succumb to a well-placed hatchet in the chest or head. A definitive effect that is well done...or well-placed. The television series was broadcast in black and white but the film was shown in Metrocolor. For this and perhaps other reasons, MGM elected to place a "Not Suitable for Children" warning on some posters. Then again, this may have been added simply to increase ticket sales.

Mostly shot under studio lights on a sound stage, it is made more obvious by studio-enhanced vocals and obvious stuntmen stepping in for Keith Larson (handsome hero hatchet king) or sidekick Buddy Ebsen (above) for some levity. Don Burnett comes in a distant third to comprise the trio. On the positive side, the actors do their best to sell the story. There are some distant outdoor scenes, more than likely reused from a feature film, making it all look rather authentic.