WORLD FOR RANSOM (1954)

 

Sarcastic gumshoe, Dan Duryea, opens the film under duress from a local racketeer. Duryea yells much of his discouraged dialogue in his trademark high-register voice that has the grating quality of whining. Truly the anti-hero, he complains plenty in this film. He appears to live a day-to-day existence, hoping that a positive turn of events is around the next rickshaw. His pal and polar opposite, Patric Knowles, turns out to be a double-crossing coward. His wife is played by newcomer, Marian Carr, whose breathy delivery is a bit annoying as if to give Marilyn Monroe a box office challenge. As a nightclub singer, her single number has her in top hat and tails, about midway between 1930’s “Morocco” and 1982’s “Victor/Victoria.” Later in the film she is constantly weaving fore and aft at the waist as if trying to get enough air to breathe. Also a bit annoying and a possible subtle scene-stealer. Carr’s career was a short one.

Gene Lockhart playing an unbalanced, criminal mastermind is a bit of a stretch. Though accustomed to playing unethical businessmen, his biggest character flaw here is his arrogant, condescending attitude. He wants the secrets to the hydrogen bomb and enlists two thugs to shanghai Arthur Shields, a nuclear scientist. Knowles is in this plot up to his mustache assisting the kidnapping by impersonating a military colonel. Lockhart meets with the ever so British Nigel Bruce—the Colonial Governor—and demands five million dollars, a sum Knowles sells his soul to get his hands on. It is Lockhart’s ransom of the century to prevent the nuclear destruction of Singapore and then some—but not the world. As a bonus, he “promises” to release Shields unharmed.

The climax is a fairly exciting standoff with a lot of gunplay at the kidnapper’s hideout. Duryea’s desire is to bring the errant Knowles safely back to his wife and with the help of the Major, Reginald Denny, also rescue the scientist. Knowles is not handling the stress well with multiple lies in an effort to save his hide. He shoots all his criminal associates, including Lockhart, then turns his attention to Duryea. Self-defense is called for.

The ending between Duryea and Carr is not uplifting, though he gets his face lifted from being slapped a few times. It is the demise of their friendship. She actually had a thing for the scoundrel because he never questioned her shady past. The closing scene, like the opener, has Duryea receiving wisdom from a female fortune-teller, an actress not even credited for an uncredited role.

Note: This film is the assumed continuation of the popular 1950s television series, "China Smith," starring Duryea as a mercenary adventurer. Its main notoriety is its director, Robert Aldrich, who would soon make his mark with an infamous Mike Hammer film the following year. Also, a carry over from television land is the competent—yet forgettable—score by Frank De Vol. The filming was finished well under two weeks and makes the most out of a television-restrained budget. Distributed by Allied Artists Productions, it takes a while to get the blood flowing perhaps due to extending a thirty-minute series into an eighty-two-minute movie. Add to this a slightly confusing screenplay by Hugo Butler during the opening scenes. Worth it all is some excellent cinematography work by Joseph Biroc and his use of intriguing points of view and lighting contrast in sweaty Singapore. Not much that stands out beyond this, so it becomes an “also-ran” within the film noir archives.