Some today find this film some sort of lost treasure but it is really not that innovative. It is well-acted with enough mystery to hold the viewer in suspense for the usual Hollywood hostage staging. The script bounces around the subject of mental illness in mid-century fashion. Critics of the day generally seemed to like it. This
MGM features a powerful opening score by André
Previn suggesting a winner. But despite an obviously low budget, the
movie still lost money at the box office. There were no big-name
stars to draw an audience and it is almost entirely filmed on a studio
backlot. I also wonder if audiences accepted a nice-looking boy,
Marshall Thompson, in this early lead role. He gets on a bus with its scrolling destination sign above the canted windshield to Terminal City, a name associated with New York's Idlewild Airport. That might have been an omen, yet hardly justifies
shooting the bus driver with his own personal security device.
Initially, Marshal Thompson appears only to be a chronic sleepwalker. His
cold, unemotional search for his former psych doctor, Sam Levene,
goes nowhere and he eventually wanders into a bar where we meet a
slice of society with their own personal foibles. Virginia Fields,
Leon Ames, and Keith Brasselle (bartender) are the more notable
actors, along with the bar owner, William Conrad,
who knows each patron well, holding contempt for a few regulars. On
the bright side, his bar is equipped with a state-of-the-art, remote-controlled television monitor suspended over the counter that would be the equal in most sports bars today. This had to cost a pretty
penny. And for what? Wrestling. And the news break about
an escaped mental patient who Conrad recognizes at the end of the
counter. When he calmly goes to the back to call the police, Thompson
is right behind him, putting Conrad’s life on permanent hold with a
bullet. This instantly gets the attention of all the patrons and the
previously invisible young man becomes larger than life itself. This
innocent-looking, unassuming and perspiring man happens to have no
regard for human life. Especially his own. This initiates the
stereotypical hostage situation with the police plotting their next
move to end the situation.
Through
clichéd
interaction between the killer and hostages, Thompson lays out his mental
disqualifications, blaming the military for teaching him to kill. The
Army was referring to the enemy, by the way. In his eyes, all the
patrons are pitiful excuses and he is not impressed with their petty
problems. His comments put the patrons in a reflective, albeit
terrifying mood. Thompson's only demand, other than having the
patrons not move a muscle, is that he talks with Dr. Levene. Though
unadvised repeatedly by the police, Levene sneaks inside the bar
where Thompson confronts him about his historically bad advice. The
doctor’s blunt assessment quickly regresses Thompson into a
frightened child. He shoots Levene when pushed too far.
The revolver that Conrad kept behind the counter is spotted by Fields,
whose character seems to know her way around firearms. She wounds
Thompson who then tells her she had no right to do that. The patrons
disagree wholeheartedly with his assessment. After a seventy-five-minute running time, all hope was seemingly gone with the words, “The
End” approaching. He slowly escapes out the back entrance which is
very well covered by armed police. Welcome to Terminal City.
