FINGER MAN (1955)

There are few surprises in this eighty-two-minute Lindsley Parsons Productions project. Distributed by Allied Artists and directed by Harold Schuster, there were numerous films patterned in the same manner mid-century. Hats off, though, to William Sickner for his photography and Paul Dunlap for providing a solid score that fits the various moods nicely. The talky script is slow at times with a fair share of clichéd staging. It is an average effort and subsequent viewings will probably not be high on your list of priorities. As is so often the case, without an experienced cast, this film noir would not be nearly as watchable.

It is unfortunate that Frank Lovejoy's short, thirteen-year career did not allow viewers to witness future projects. It seemed he was Hollywood’s go-to man when needing an average guy dealing with challenging situations. He possessed an intense, underplayed acting style that, more often than not, was effective. He could be a bit lackluster, too. Lovejoy does the voice-over narration reminiscent of his earlier radio program, Night Beat. Rather unusual to have someone at odds with the law tell his story in voice-overs. Most criminals end up dead in a routine film noir. 

Lovejoy is a petty criminal who has served time in the big house. He is also a talented “piano player” after a fashion. Probably the accompanist for the prison choir. To clarify, we never see the full keyboard of the upright piano he tickles at a nightclub. Not quite sure if he had a job at the club or if they just let me play when he shows up. Brought in for hijacking a truck, he is given a choice to either return to prison or help the U.S. Treasury Department take down a crime boss, the less-than-believable, Forrest Tucker. The studios or perhaps his agent may have struggled to find a niche for Tucker. This role does not seem the right one. If Lovejoy is successful in putting the finger on Tucker, his record will be washed clean. The worst that could happen is that he gets killed. Understandably, these factors heavily in his decision. After discovering his sister has become a drug addict thanks to Tucker, he is committed to the assignment.

The acting is believable with the possible exception of Timothy Carey (above), Tucker’s lunatic partner and sociopath. Carey could be the levity in this movie as his scenes elicit laughs. Yet nothing amusing about his disturbing desire to scar females’ faces before, during, or after killing them. Opposite a laid-back Lovejoy, he provides an over-the-top contrast. Discovering a past despicable deed, Lovejoy wants to attack him savagely. But before a blow can be landed, Carey immediately starts whimpering like a little child until he finishes his outrageous scene. An odd, one-dimensional character that has become classic Carey.

Lovejoy’s love interest, formerly employed by Tucker to pad his income, is Peggie Castle. Castle seems a bit too refined for the role. A “Jan Sterling type” would have been a more expected choice. She wants to turn her life around and Lovejoy demands the Treasury also clear her record if he is successful. He needs her help to get on good terms with Tucker. Things do not end well for Castle. Often noted is her final scene crossing a darkened intersection while Lovejoy watches her for the last time from his second-story apartment. The best noir element in the film or several other films.

Tucker initially likes the short-fused Lovejoy but his opinion changes rather quickly after an undercover detective, assigned to keep tabs on Lovejoy, is fleshed out and there is no escape for the panicky Tucker. Just a reservation at the San Quentin “motor lodge” where the yearly rate is the best value. Lovejoy’s final voice-over, walking away from the camera down a darkened sidewalk, indicates he hopes to start a new life. Help people like his sister or Castle. If he lives long enough.

SMALL SCREEN ENDEAVOR

NIGHT CHASE (1970)
A Fugitive Can Never Stop Running

Cinema Center 100 Productions, a five-year-run theatrical film production company of the CBS Television Network, is responsible for this ninety-five-minute television “thriller-ette” based on a story by producer, Collier Young. It was directed by Jack Starrett with Mort Stevens taking the helm as music supervisor, who shows great restraint in using Laurence Rosenthal's score. It is a good eight minutes into the film before we hear any instruments, letting the sounds of everyday life at an airport terminal and the banter between two very different men draw us in. Some nice jazzy touches from time to time. I liked this film when I first viewed it, thanks almost entirely to Hoyt Bowers' casting the small screen wonder, David Janssen, opposite Yaphet Kotto. This is a character study of two men from diverse backgrounds thrown together by happenstance with one a dreaded backseat driver and the other becoming his underpaid psychologist.

It is not a difficult stretch to imagine this is a hypothetical sequel of the popular series, The Fugitive. Janssen remains on the run even though his knees cannot take any more pounding. He hires a cab, going against his usual wily evasive tactics. We find him looking down at the floor a lot with sporadic Kimball-like comments. He embarrassingly glances from side to side, still wary of the relentless pursuit of his capture. He changes his name, of course, and lets his sideburns grow to further bamboozle the police. He even boards a bus near the film’s end. Fred Johnson has been serving time in federal prison yet Janssen continues to run, but for a different reason. Lieutenant Gerard is not interested. He has had enough.

The film opens with a leg cam following Janssen to a hotel room, where he opens the door and fires twice. He has little doubt the man responsible for his second wife’s divorce papers was killed. So devastated by his impending divorce and assumed murder rap, he is convinced he has little reason to live. His small handgun, now two bullets shy of a full chamber, is still with him. He may have to use it on the police, or himself. 

The film remains intriguing well past the halfway point. The subsequent night drive encounters, Janssen’s amazing pool shooting skills, and Kotto’s attempted escapes are captivating. As an example, when Kotto writes a note of help to a service station attendant, the fugitive suspects as much and rips the paper from the clipboard before it leaves the taxi. Everything holds together until the San Diego Zoo segment drags on for fifteen minutes with repeated insertions of screaming monkeys or growling tigers. This, too, may remind one of The Fugitive's two-part finale in an abandoned amusement park. A few obvious stunt doubles earn their pay climbing walls and such. The passenger, for all his high salary smarts, is not nearly as grounded as the driver, who finally convinces his fare there is no prison term hanging over him and zero chance of ever seeing that one-armed man again.

Note: This premise is simple: a long, expensive taxi fare from Los Angeles to San Diego. Some might find the film boring, but it is a good effort, especially after rediscovering it long after you have forgotten about it. Kotto has first-hand experience of running and incarceration. He tries to persuade Janssen to stop running. A difficult sell to a guy who successfully ran for four years to keep out of death row. I can only imagine selling the script to the network chiefs about two men in a taxi on a one hundred twenty-plus-mile night drive with very little chasing. Still, not nearly the difficulty Roy Huggins had with selling his Fugitive concept.