DOUBLE JEOPARDY (1955)

 

Stoically stiff, yet charmingly handsome, Rod Cameron plays a criminal attorney nearly engaged to Allison Hayes, whose father, a wealthy businessman played by John Litel, thinks highly of Cameron, personally and professionally. It is a good guy role for Cameron, with a short list of villains to his credit. Perhaps the director suggested that the brunette Hayes lighten her hair. The problem is that she and her equal-billed co-star, Gale Robbins, look similar in their opening scenes, sharing a hairstyle, facial structure, and figure. What separates the two is Robbin’s annoying character, an extremely deceptive and smart-aleck tart. Money is her only interest, not her former wealthy husband, Robert Armstrong. He has not worked in years since serving a prison term for a shady business deal with his former business partner, the aforementioned Litel. He now spends his idle hours consuming alcohol by the quart. That, and blackmailing Litel to keep their secret sealed. Enter problem child, Jack Kelly.

Kelly and Robbins are in a deceptive lust affair. They deserve each other. Kelly is a salesman for “Happy Harry’s” used car dealership. He is as greedy and unethical as they come, roles that were typical during his career. Portly Dick Elliott plays Harry, some years away from being a one-term Mayor of Mayberry. At Kelly’s suggestion, Robbins sweet-talks Armstrong into pressuring Litel for a second big payoff. Another dreaded phone call, and Litel meets Armstrong on their usual mountain overlook. But Litel has not brought any money; he has only rendezvoused with the extortionist to say he has had enough. Slime bag Kelly has been watching from afar, and after Litel drives away, he confronts Armstrong, demanding the assumed money. They argue, then Armstrong gets behind the wheel and attempts to drive off. Outside the passenger side of the car, Kelly impossibly pulls Armstrong away from the driver's side in a questionable bit of editing. Suddenly, Armstrong is in the passenger side with his right arm dangling out the side window. The car slowly rolls backward over a cliff. 'Twas the crash that killed the drunken beast.

Based on the specific tire tread pattern of his Rolls-Royce leading to the spot, Litel looks good for the murder. He finally admits his past about a failed financial deal for a new housing development. Investigating on his own, Cameron puts the idea into Robbins' head that Kelly planned to double-cross her and keep the money for himself. The two “love doves” drive to the scene of Armstrong’s demise to get the invisible money. Kelly's only plan is to silence loose lips.

This drama, with an oft-used title, was produced by Rudy Ralston and written by Don Martin for Republic Pictures. The veteran of many Republic westerns, R. G. Springsteen, directed this crime-mystery. It is a competent cast that elevates this familiar-themed film of extortion and lying characters—two Hollywood favorites. This very unknown film holds up well enough for seventy minutes. Taking out footage for commercials, it could have been a perfect fit for an Alfred Hitchcock Hour television episode.

Note: Late in the film, Cameron begins suspecting Kelly is surely guilty of something and poses a few questions to Elliot. Covering for Kelly, the attorney gets the run-around. Fed up and realizing there will be no straight answers, Cameron sarcastically deadpans, "Well, are you happy, Harry?"

CHICAGO SYNDICATE (1955)

There is a crowded Chicago commuter trainload of details to sift through during this average B-movie from Clover Productions, distributed by Columbia Pictures. The voice-over details in documentary style, plus the added dialogue, make it difficult to keep things straight at times. Probably does not matter. I have grown to appreciate Dennis O’Keefe's talents. His character here, through no fault of his own, is too amazing to be real. He knocks down the analytical accountant stereotype of a numbers cruncher. A Chicago newspaper editor, civic leaders, along with a detective, the ubiquitous John Zaremba, want him to go undercover to flesh out the syndicate responsible for killing a bookkeeper who had evidence on the syndicate’s boss, Paul Stewart. Feeling they have the wrong guy for the job, O’Keefe is totally against the dangers associated with the idea. They plan to pay him sixty grand to do it. He gives it a try. O'Keefe handles everything like an experienced secret agent. Cool under pressure and light on his feet. Fists of iron. Pencils with no erasers. Stewart is excellent as a seemingly good-natured crime czar whose only love comes from his mother. The suave insurance scammer has little fear, but his patience has its limits. He can be vicious. O’Keefe’s plan is to capture assumed microfilm to put Stewart away on tax evasion.

Speaking of hard to believe, Allison Hayes’ role has her going undercover, on her own initiative, using an alias to avenge her bookkeeping father’s death at the hands of Stewart. This is after spending time in a mental institution over the traumatic event and the subsequent suicide of her mother. O’Keefe befriends her (above) to gain access to Stewart’s nightclub. Once he is informed of who she really is, he suggests she stay out of harm’s way. But Hayes comes in handy. O’Keefe’s amazing accounting expertise places him in good favor with Stewart after the police arrange a jewel theft and a nifty insurance scam.

Double-billed with O'Keefe is Abby Lane, Stewart’s tolerable girl. She drinks too much when she is not performing with her real-life husband, Xavier Cugat. The squinty-eyed, rotund devil had a thing for a woman nearly thirty years younger. Cugat was given some lines to say. Yay. With numerous roles already under her strapless gowns, Lane does alright in the part. If you are musically inclined, you may find yourself singing her opening number, “One At a Time,” long after the movie's end. O'Keefe suggests Hayes cater to Stewart's social weaknesses, which makes Lane jealous. She threatens to reveal Stewart’s edited books. His goons do a sixty-second beating in a separate room in full earshot of all the dinner guests. Awkward. Lane comes out of the room instantly bruised by a lot of strategically placed dark, smudgy makeup and tousled hair.

In a bit of a nail-biter, Zaremba and the police arrive to catch Stewart with his account book on a tip from O'Keefe. To his dismay, Stewart burns the pages in his mommy's wood stove. With the expected knock on the door, O’Keefe volunteers to answer it. To not blow his cover, he decks Zaremba. Now horizontal, he whispers to him that the book has been burned. Both men pull off the charade. As I say, one amazing accountant. Kind of funny when Zaremba tries to enter the room, though, as he does a comical triple-take as if confused. What the...hey! Stewart knows Zaremba well, but O'Keefe covers the incident by telling him he thought he was trouble. Lane's hidden microfilm evidence is revealed, and Stewart tells O’Keefe to light a match to it. Instead, he pockets the microfilm, gives Stewart a knuckle sandwich, and makes a run for it. From her upstairs apartment window, as if expecting her son to come by any moment, Mom witnesses Stewart being brought down by police gunfire. He was such a good boy.

COUNTERPLOT (1959)

Forrest Tucker and Allison Hayes together at last! A stale tale of murder, a conniving lawyer and an expressionless boy in one sleepy location, Puerto Rico. The United Artists film is, literally, a real sleeper with opening music by Paul Sawtell and Bert Shefter that has all the sentimentalism deserving of this movie. Jackie Wayne plays the young errand boy looking out for Tucker who is in hiding from an assumed murder. Judging by the dark makeup, Wayne is supposed to be a native "San Juanian." He seems to worship Tucker and he likes their “just guys” arrangement. No icky women around. Tucker frequently scolds him for not doing what he is told, however.

Nightclub singer and icky woman, Hayes, has a past with Tucker and Wayne thinks she is the reason for Tucker’s trouble. Upon her arrival, she and Wayne spot each other but he does not initially acknowledge her. His lie about Tucker’s whereabouts is not convincing. Hayes is soon addressed by another familiar face, corrupt lawyer, Gerald Milton, the San Juan Shyster. The burly actor with his clear, commanding voice never uses contractions when speaking. It reminds me of one who commands people to do their bidding. A delivery that is two-thirds sultan and one-third Tonto. Even though Hayes says she is back to perform at her former gig, he suspects she is in town to find Tucker. Their cat-and-mouse conversation reveals more about Milton than the location of Tucker.

Milton comes to Tucker’s legitimate aid, however, keeping his hiding place secret from the adhesive-mustached Richard Verney, a business partner of the man murdered. With a tempting offer to represent him legally, Milton gets Verney to spill his guts about who actually committed the murder. All the while being secretly recorded by Milton. In retrospect, Tucker decked Verney’s partner during insults and feared his fall to the floor accidentally killed him. Tucker fled. Watching from another room, Verney finished off his partner to inherit the (no kidding) Acme insurance policy against his death. He is killed with a most gentle, choreographed head pounding against the floor which actually looked like he was trying to wake him. Wake up, little buddy! Clearly irritated with most anyone, Verney delivers his lines with a tight-lipped, disgruntled delivery of his best bad guy impression. His tenor voice sounds amateurish as many of his lines trail off to a whining end.

Milton’s assistant and legman, Miguel Angel Alvarez, double-crosses him and tells Verney where Tucker is hiding. Milton struggles to get control of Alvarez’s gun. When The Shyster bends over to retrieve it, he gets a letter opener in the back. Milton is able to get two shots off with a final, 'You interfered. I make payment.' Him plenty dead, now. Meanwhile, to prevent Tucker’s death by Verney’s gun, the boy shoots him in the arm with Tucker’s gun. Tucker later tells the boy that today he has become a man...his first shooting. He pours a “shot” of whiskey for each of them and teases him to take the drink. The boy is confused. Hesitant. He quickly puts down the drink in embarrassment. Tucker laughs at him. We do not know what happens with the boy after Tucker and the icky woman get back together. But that laugh probably took the boy some time to leave it behind.

Note: One funny editing note. As Hayes finishes her song, accepting applause, the camera cuts to Tucker’s face and then back to Hayes who is now in a completely different dress. Therein lies the popularity of her club act. The ability to change clothes on stage so fast that no one can see her do it. David Copperfield would be incredulous!

HONG KONG CONFIDENTIAL (1958)

This United Artists film uses periodic voice-over narration akin to a documentary newsreel. The Robert Kent Production sounds authenticated and unfolds the story with the smallest studio sets, looking more like an early television play. Yet in one scene they manage to squeeze in a current model Ford through one tiny street, leaving little room for the studio lighting let alone the Asian extras to walk about on cue. It is a tale of Cold War tensions with the Soviet Union and the special government agents assigned to resolve an unusual case. It is all fairly silly and predictable but the secret agent premise beats the Bond pictures out of the starting gate. 

The Communist's “new weapon” is to kidnap the son of an Arab King to pressure him into not signing an agreement with the United States to build a missile base in his small Arab nation. Assigned to find the prince is undercover agent, Gene Barry, who is posing as a lounge singer in a tiny Hong Kong nightclub set. He handles suave with the best of them and this film highlights his talents. The two brief songs he performs are the standout moments in the film. Barry had a voice but his body rhythm here is hilariously stiff and corny. His left and right arms do whatever they want with his body planning on moving right but it suddenly feels compelled to move left. Cannot fault him for trying his best to sell the first lame song about himself. But he is definitely a “foot loser.” Few would ever guess he is an intelligence agent, so in that regard, he is in deep cover. His love interest and accompanist is played by Beverly Tyler in her last film before transitioning to television. She is not undercover yet her faked piano playing made me suspicious.

After Barry’s informant is killed, King Calder, the intelligence agent recommends Barry for the prince's retrieval. There is evidence that the informant had ties to Allison Hayes, who is under surveillance for gold smuggling to the Communists. Hayes can play untrustworthy through makeup and wardrobe alone. She resides in another small Asian film set called Macao. So Barry has about forty feet to travel, not forty miles, in the hope of flushing out the kidnappers. Barry sells her on his smuggling plan of mass-producing souvenirs, yet after the cheap metal is burned off, underneath is solid gold.

Barry discovers a medallion belonging to the kidnapped prince in the office of Noel Drayton and the kidnapping mastermind is revealed. Hayes sets up a meeting with Drayton but double-crosses Barry at gunpoint, forcing him into a cellar where Drayton awaits with the kidnapped prince. Smugly, he tells his plan to pin the kidnapping on the American Barry. He and the prince will be killed after the Arab King signs the papers to let the Commies establish their own missile base. All wait impatiently for that important phone call. But Barry comes up with a plan to disrupt the telephone service that is right out of a Bond playbook. In the standard secret agent ploy, he needs to stand and "fake" stretch. Then with outstretched arms, he casually picks up a thick metal pin lying near the telephone. Really not sure what it is, yet it is pretty obvious he is up to something. I am surprised Barry was not whistling a random tune. Drayton is oblivious. Suspended disbelief at its best. The funny scene continues as Barry sits back down and one arm immediately dives between the cushions as if it were sucked in. Below the couch is where the telephone line is and he pokes the pin through the rubber-encased telephone cable. Drayton must call from an upstairs phone to confirm the signing. He leaves Hayes alone with Barry. Uh-oh. Moviegoers knew what was coming next. In her “duh” moment, Barry volunteers to light her cigarette but overwhelms her with his charms...uh...arms, knocking the gun from her hand and as she stumbles hits her head in the fall. Drayton returns and graciously accepts a bullet. Barry and the prince escape.

One evil-doer is holding Tyler as Barry leverage. Barry kicks open the door and stands back as Asian bullets shoot the hallway full of lead. Without looking, Barry shoots around the door frame, killing the man. Yes. He is that good. At that very moment, another man is ready to shoot Barry in the back but he is shot in the back by Calder. This would have extended in a Zucker Brothers film. Tyler’s suspicions about Barry’s dancing abilities become clearer when she learns of his real occupation.

Note: Another funny scene, an optical illusion, is between Calder and Barry. Both men are facing the camera with Calder standing right behind Barry's right shoulder. Due to the lighting and shadows, it appears Calder is resting his chin on Barry's shoulder, who is getting a bit uncomfortable.