THE KILLER IS LOOSE (1956)

Budd Boetticher lays out a well-paced movie and the many on-location scenes add reality to a traditional script. There are enough hypothetical situations to slot the film into a B-movie category. Though the ending is contrived and implausible, it is an incredible performance by Wendell Corey. The ever-competent Joseph Cotton sometimes works hard to make his script believable.. He seems irritated throughout the film, perhaps for good reason. His wife, Rhonda Fleming, constantly wants him to change careers because his life is in the balance every day. She is one-dimensional as a self-centered, harping wife.

Though initially touted as a hero for tackling one bank robber, Corey is discovered to be part of an inside job, and the police close in on his apartment, expecting a standoff after he fires through the entrance door. Inside the darkened interior, Cotton accidentally shoots a moving silhouette, which happens to be Corey’s wife. The supposed mild-mannered, gentle bank teller begins his journey into a mentally unbalanced world. Being a model prisoner hoping for an early release, he is transferred to a prison honor farm. Corey's idea of an early release is not quick enough. While en route to make a produce delivery, he kills the driver and makes his escape. As a disguise, he goes without eyeglasses for a period. Not the best plan for highway driving.

Corey looks deranged, in a trance, as he walks through a middle-class neighborhood looking for the Cotton home. His slow and slightly hesitant gate adds to his unsettling persona. I like to think this was Corey's idea. He stops at John Larch’s house, an old army buddy who used to tease Corey, calling him “Foggy” for his deep voice and for wearing spectacles. An irritating jab from an entire life of ridicule. Larch tries to reason with Foggy, I mean Corey. He suggests he does not have much chance of getting far. He says he could probably take him down like he could in basic training. Corey seems to understand and remorsefully, momentarily, thinks it over. Corey disagrees. He shoots Larch right through the milk bottle he is holding near his chest as his wife screams in horror. A hungry, unshaven Corey looks away in disgust. Obviously, he is lactose intolerant. Corey uses the wife’s hooded plaid raincoat, white or yellow rain boots, and purse to transform into a six-foot-two-inch lady. Just another day in LA. This is certainly a point to burst out laughing if you want. He is quite the fashion plate.

Cotton hastily arranges a “charade vacation” to move his wife to a fellow officer’s home for safety. Not wanting to frighten her, he never mentions that she is Corey’s primary target for revenge. It is a poorly executed ruse by Cotton and Fleming quickly catches on during their ride in the studio prop car. She gives her husband little support or understanding. It is a standard premise and makes their interaction the clichéd low point in the film. After a good verbal thrashing...uh...eye-opener from police wife, Virginia Christine, Cotton’s intentions become clearer to her. She skips out, returning by bus, where she suspects Corey may be a passenger. A useless device because the audience already recognized Corey. Besides, Foggy does not have the nerve to get on the bus in that plaid raincoat and rain boots.

The police stake out the Cotton home late at night. From a nearby bus stop, Fleming decides to walk the few blocks home. How Corey knew she was on a bus, then would be walking home, is, at best, a happenstance. I assume the phone book was Corey's go-to source for finding her address. Hiding in the bushes for her to pass by, however, is strictly for the audience to gasp. The officers spot a tall lady closely following a redhead, then Cotton blasts them for not recognizing his wife! Fleming deliberately walks past her home (in a cagey police move), leaving Corey to wonder if he is tracking the right woman. At the last second, she tries to dash back to her front door with Lady Corey in pursuit. The entire neighborhood is aroused by a lot of gunfire. Just another day in LA.

Note: Aside from the horror genre, Corey’s performance newly defines scary. He is not sadistic like Widmark in his screen debut or Mitchum a year earlier. He is disturbed and helpless by his evil deeds. After killing Larch, his wife lies motionless from fainting. Corey looks down at her and in a soft, reasoning voice, says, “What else could I do? It was the ONLY thing I could do.” From teller to killer, Corey is mesmerizing and chilling. He is the reason to watch this film, and the director thought so too. I can only imagine what audiences thought of Corey during its first run. Just do not call him “Foggy.”