5 AGAINST THE HOUSE (1955)

Directed by Phil Karlson, this production helped usher in the heist film. It was produced by Stirling Silliphant and John Barnwell for Columbia Pictures with a screenplay based on Jack Finney's 1954 novel of the same name. George Duning's score adds the right amount of heft when needed. For the most part, the eighty-three minutes play out logically until the nonsensical ending. Karlson's realism is evident right from the opening night scene in Reno, Nevada, as a campus foursome arrives and has their car parked on an upper level by a nifty hydraulic parking garage system. There is plenty of genuine comic dialogue, but the script's humorous quips wear a bit thin, in part due to the film eventually taking a darker turn. Enrolled to further their matrimonial studies are Brian Keith, Guy Madison, Kerwin Mathews, and, for the film's levity, Alvy Moore, appearing to be the only age-appropriate student, judging by his mannerisms, physique, and crew cut. Moore was actually thirty-four. If you can get past the age absurdity, you are nearly halfway there. 

Returning to campus after their Korean War duty, pre-law students Madison and Keith are somewhat the "fathers" to the other two collegians. Madison is the straight arrow of the two. Capitalizing on some early roles, Keith's script dictates a volatile nature, this time due to battle shock and a metal plate in his head. He refuses further treatments in the VA's psych ward, however. During this era, a metal plate worked its way into a number of post-war actors' heads. But there are five against the house. Enter Madison's girlfriend, Kim Novak, now reunited. To his astonishment, she has become a singer at a Glendale nightclub. He had no idea she could sing and never suspected her voice would be dubbed. To be kind, the chosen studio singer matches Novak's vocal range accurately enough. Thankfully, there is only one number to sit through.

Due to a sizable inheritance, the wealthy Matthews—perhaps paying cash for each semester—is obsessed with a plan to rob Harold's Club in Reno, just for the exhilaration. All the money would be quickly returned—how is never addressed—ensuring that no one involved would be guilty of a crime. Right. Matthews purchases a used trailer and car to pull it and then fabricates a cash cart—entirely from memory—identical to the ones used at the club. The complex operation depends on Madison's participation—and a gullible audience—if it is to succeed. Throwing a curve into the plan is Madison's intention to marry Novak in Reno. The entire “wedding party” takes the seven hundred twenty-mile drive to Reno. Before long, Madison realizes something is up and forces the trio's hand. The happy couple want no part in it. That will not do, according to the unbalanced Keith, who now has no plan to return the money or share it. Losing all sense of reason, he threatens to bring them all down for their part if he gets caught.

They pull off the ideally timed theft with the help of a nervous William Conrad, in charge of the club's cash cart, during Western costume days. Matthews has a reel-to-reel tape recorder hidden inside the duplicate cart that plays a threatening recording on his (remote) command, psychologically making Conrad think “the guy in there” will shoot him if he does not play along. How Matthews turns the recorder on and off, or how Conrad could not be aware of the cart's lack of weight, is the very definition of suspended disbelief. Madison catches up with the fleeing Keith, and their special bond results in a tearful, emotional collapse of the latter in the same garage where the film opened. The police are there to arrest Keith, and everyone else is preposterously ignored for their part in the scheme. The viewer assumes Keith will not squeal on the other four and his metal...er...mental condition will result in a light sentence. Apparently, Conrad will keep silent when asked about his cowardly quarter-hour experience.

Note: This is certainly an entertaining film and generally got positive reviews at the time. But as time tends to enhance old films, this unknown noir has been raised to a higher level by some. The acting is commendable, but Keith is the only standout performer, eliciting a wide range of emotions. Novak's early film role seems well-matched to the one-dimensional Madison. However, the posters defy any thought of her in a supporting role. It is more like four against one.

NIGHTFALL (1956)

This Columbia Pictures B-movie stars Aldo Ray, James Gregory, Anne Bancroft, and Brian Keith. Rudy Bond has a standout role, one of several films he made, three of which starred Marlon Brando. His sister, Jocelyn Brando, plays Gregory’s wife. However, the film may be best remembered for the camera work of cinematographer Burnett Guffey. Directed by Jacques Tourneur, his use of seamless flashbacks provides the most interesting segments of this film. Despite his success with Out of the Past, his directing here can be uneven. One cannot fault the studio art department for pumping up the promotion of this seventy-nine-minute film---note the yellow teaser text in the poster.

I found Stirling Silliphant’s script ponderous at times. Many segments go by slowly with a lot of character development dialogue. The title, as near as I can figure, refers to the opening night scene between Ray and Gregory. It took a while to figure out what was up with Ray's character, whether he was innocent or guilty of something. His incessant, vague comments about the source of his troubles barely squeeze through. The homey scenes with Gregory revealing to his wife how his insurance investigation is progressing ate up a lot of film for a character not in need of so much background. Then, Keith’s extended cat-and-mouse verbal threatening of Ray is also a frame-eater. Thankfully, the flashbacks make sense of why Ray is being hunted, how he, Keith, and Bond collided, and why the latter two cannot find their stolen loot.

I was not buying the World War II veteran, Ray, as a freelance commercial artist. Artistic people exist in all walks of life, but Ray seems better suited as a professional truck driver. Barry Sullivan, one of the original choices, would have been ideal. I could have supported Bancroft as a Montgomery-Ward catalog model, though not a high-fashion model. The novel that the film is based on may be the culprit. Bancroft's first appearance with Ray in a local bar is also a wee cumbersome until thieves and noir-do-wells, Keith and Bond, enter the picture. He thinks his abduction was set up by Bancroft. 

Keith once again seems to be holding himself back from a sudden outburst of violence. A one-dimensional character played well with clamped jaw. But Bond...Rudy Bond, (second from left above) steals the film as the sadist who enjoys killing people by games of (no) chance. His laugh from an individual with a screw loose upstairs. I imagine him watching Wile E. Coyote cartoons endlessly―as an adult―always laughing hysterically at every pratfall, however repetitive. His demise is well worth waiting for. Then, there is a lot of waiting in this film. Waiting for Ray and Bancroft to become an item. Waiting for Gregory to explain himself to Ray. Waiting for Keith and Bond to come to an understanding, and waiting for that snowplow to make itself useful.