THE LINEUP (1958)

The Lineup was an American police drama airing on CBS television from 1954 to 1960. The top 20 Nielsen ratings hit was first on CBS radio (1950-1953). Warner Anderson plays Detective Lieutenant Ben Guthrie, with Tom Tully as Inspector Matt Grebb. The show was produced with the cooperation of the San Francisco Police Department. The popularity hinged on the realism of location shooting, hard-hitting content, and the dogged determination of Guthrie. Near its peak, it was decided to adapt the winning formula into a feature film. If one recalls the series, this B-movie will seem quite familiar, like a two-part episode edited into a longer one. It is perhaps the main thing keeping it from being a classic. Doing the film before the series may have helped garner more than “been there, done that” admonishment. The wonder of speculation.

Directed by Don Siegel with a screenplay by Stirling Silliphant, the eighty-seven-minute film was distributed by Columbia Pictures in 1958. The cinematography by Hal Mohr excels. This is a well-executed film for Siegel, who returns to the “City by the Bay” famously in 1971. Away from the small screen, the film relies on the versatile Eli Wallach as a theater draw and the assumed star. For those who have a history with San Francisco, there are famous historical locations that may bring back a memory. On more general terms, the vehicles in the film will satisfy the historical transportation buff.

Anderson is teamed this time with Emile Meyer as Inspector Al Quine (above). Tom Tully does not reprise his role. I suspect he was filming Ten North Frederick, released a month before this film in 1958. The serious countenance of Anderson and his one-dimensional speech indicate he is unfamiliar with smiling. Somewhat expected considering a few of his other serious roles. He is disgusted by criminals. The extended procedural filming was better received on the intimacy of television, including the obligatory lineup from the series.

The film starts with a bang as a speeding taxi screeches curbside near a shipping dock, and a guy throws a suitcase through its open window. The cab driver speeds away before slamming into a semi truck. No expensive plastic parts to be replaced. Just bang out the bends in the steel. He reverses and speeds away. But a policeman's bullet permanently stops the driver, and the car crashes into a barrier. Quickly arriving on the scene are Anderson and Meyer in a black 1957 Dodge with white wall tires. Not a city beat's ride. The film takes a turn after discovering the cab driver was a heroin addict, which might also explain his poor driving reaction. His connection leads to an international heroin-smuggling racket. Entering the film on a United Airlines DC-4 are Wallach and his mentor, Robert Keith, whose assignment is to collect the contraband from several tourists arriving from Asia. Meeting them at a rental house, Richard Jaeckel (pronounced “Yekal”) offers his services as an expert driver with a “souped up” 1957 Plymouth. Keith is not amused by the cocky young pup. He is not aware he even needed a car.

The drug duo's contact, radio's most famous “Johnny Dollar,” is Robert Bailey. Not to be confused with Raymond Bailey, also in this film. But I digress. He informs Wallach they must make the drop for "The Man," played chillingly by Vaughn Taylor (above, bottom), at an exact time. Two tourists—a mother and her young daughter—had unknowingly disposed of the heroin by white-coating a Japanese doll's face. The ever-calm Keith is extremely agitated. Because of two other botched retrievals, the duo is already coming up short for the heroin delivery. The mother and daughter are in for the ride of their lives as kidnapped passengers. The inexperienced, short-fused Wallach decides it best to meet face-to-face with Taylor to explain the shortage. Taylor wonders why he is talking, but remains silent through his babbling. His mistake was that no one ever lays eyes on “The Man.” Seething, he tells him, “You're dead.” Taylor then slaps Wallach across the face with the lighter-than-expected satchel of heroin. Enraged, Wallach pushes Taylor in his wheelchair off a second-story balcony.

The stunt driving goes all-out (and drawn out) during the exciting climax. The late Fifties Mopars are oozing around corners at high speeds, tires folding under the strain. Jaeckel has a knack for evading the pursuing police until the script tells him to turn onto the incomplete Embarcadero Freeway (above). Unfinished freeways are often used in car chases to allow creative freedom and no traffic to corden off. This crew seemed to have every police car going in the same direction despite ramps for driving in the opposite direction. Jaeckel comes to a screeching halt, unable to proceed. Wallach's maniacal killing spree continues after exiting the sedan. The police are trained to shoot murderers, and he becomes a stuffed, stunt Wallach bouncing off freeway overpasses below.

Note: Jaeckel's Plymouth comes to a stop by a curving vanishing point between steel traffic barriers. It is quite bizarre to allow traffic to access this section of engineering ineptitude. At any rate, from a different camera perspective (above), the “single file” ramp-to-nowhere appears only for expert drivers to safely navigate. Unless one is traveling by motorcycle.