STEP DOWN TO TERROR (1958)

Bicycling is a joy for most youngsters. The freedom to roam outdoors is inherent and often enhanced as an adult with the added adventure of touring. As with any transportation choice, however, there is a risk of serious injury. Just ask the main character, played by Charles Drake. His childhood head injury from being hit while riding his bike scrambles his brain, eventually resulting in a dual personality with uncontrollable behavior. The thought-provoking title of this seventy-six-minute film is subtly illustrated underneath the opening credits. 

This American crime film is directed by Harry Keller and produced by Joseph Gershenson for Universal-International Pictures. It was written by Mel Dinelli with input from Czenzi Ormonde and Sy Gomberg. I find no credits for the music score so assume it is from Universal's stock library. But the opening is powerfully ominous and at least deserves a mention. Besides Drake, the film stars Colleen Miller in one of her more visible roles, and a relative newcomer to the big screen, Rod Taylor. Everyone is first-rate in this rather overstuffed story. 

It is no surprise from Drake's opening caustic verbal attack on his landlord that he has a problem—an underlying anger much deeper than just being irate about his landlord for popping in unexpectedly. However, he is all smiles in a phone booth when next we see him, suggesting a highly-respected, sweetheart of a guy coming home to visit mother, and his sister-in-law Miller, and her seven-year-old son. When a family member disappears without a trace for six years, it would seem to arouse some sort of suspicion. But the unassuming relatives are ecstatic to have him home. The script throws suspicion his way in due course, perhaps subconsciously hoping his mental nightmare will finally come to an end once and for all. Drake embodies a psychotic in subtle fashion despite his handsome winning smile and straight-arrow appearance.

Drake gifts Miller with an expensive ring engraved with initials of no familial connection. Another lie appears to explain it. His heinous life starts to unravel—loosened by guilt—and he is helpless to stop it. Taylor, two years away from fame as H.G. Wells, is a lead policeman on the trail of the philanderer. Miller first finds his revelations preposterous until he tells the origins of the ring's bogus engraving. It leads to a serious falling out with her brother-in-law. This first remake of the Hitchcock classic, Shadow of a Doubt, is not on the same dark and creepy level. Drake is “Uncle Charlie” only to his nephew who has nothing to fear from him, being overly protective of the boy's safety on his bicycle.

The inane climax is the film's weakest element—ironically involving a bicycle. Drake avoids hitting the Schwinn with a slow speed turn—sped up to a humorous Herman Munster level—with his DeSoto convertible—windshield flattened—ending up completely upside down in tall grass. As if positioned there by a crane hired by the studio. Hmm. Miller absorbs her family's dark secret at the hush-hush funeral. Perhaps a commissioned statue in honor of the town's "ideal" native son. 

THE PRETENDER (1947)

Billy’s slightly older brother, W. Lee Wilder, directed this sixty-nine minute B-movie noir for Republic Pictures, which may be best remembered as one of the earliest Hollywood films to use a theremin, by Dr. Samuel J. Hoffman, to good effect and for John Alton's wonderfully dark, moody cinematography. The screenplay was written by Don Martin and Doris Miller who also provided additional dialogue. I found the script lacking clarity with some characters confusingly intertwined. It is quite possible I dozed off. Somewhat cleverly adding to the confusion, a key character changes his name after the halfway point. Quite perplexing for the leading man, Albert Dekker. For the era, I imagine this was a good suspenseful drama. Had it been released years later, it would have been more efficient—and free—as an episode of, The Alfred Hitchcock Hour.

Dekker had an inherent vocal ability to softly signify an unstable mind. At first, suggesting a reserved man, his real character here eventually comes to a breaking point. This role works for him. He plays a crooked investor, desperately embezzling money from a large estate bequeathed to the young Catherine Craig after her father’s death. Dekker is losing his shirt in the stock market and acting as a Robin Hood broker has been stealing from the rich and giving to himself. He is fortunate to have a secretary with zero scruples. She witnesses all his dishonest fund transfers without so much as a blink.

Typical of Hollywood's Golden Era, Dekker is old enough to be Craig’s uncle but he pours on the charm in his effort to woo her into marriage, giving him the ability to cover his debts with her inheritance. He even peels off his studio mustache to look younger. To himself. He has been a faithful and trusted friend regarding the estate, but she loves another in her age group. Dekker is not sure who that is but wants him killed, paying a nightclub owner/mobster, Alan Carney, to arrange an “accident” after their engagement picture appears in the newspaper. The lucky guy is Charles Drake, a neurosurgeon and doctor of psychology, whose responsibilities have left little time for Craig. They mutually call off their engagement. To Dekker’s surprise and queasiness, she decides to accept “Uncle Albert’s” earlier proposal and wants to elope. And the local paper knows about it.

In the meantime, Carney is killed and his right-hand man, Tom “Fingers” Kennedy, takes over the boss’s chair and decides to go upscale and use, I assume, his given character name. A name Dekker does not recognize but his paranoia tells him that anyone named “Fingers” would carry out the prepaid deed on him. Making it more difficult to trace, Carney, for anonymity, had bestowed upon Dekker’s character an alias, unknown to Kennedy. Throughout the balance of the film, the doomed groom is trying to make connections with Kennedy to cancel his prearranged funeral.

Dekker’s mental state is personified by the theremin. As the camera closes in on his face, now with a full mustache, he audibly shares his inner thoughts. Until the science fiction community confiscated the instrument, it was the perfect instrument to signify someone with psychological issues. His constant excuses and lies only go so far. He is afraid to eat for fear of poisoning. He does not trust their butler. Nor their second one. His paranoia increases to a ridiculous level while Craig becomes the most understanding woman on the planet. She gets Drake's free analysis and finds Dekker riddled with guilt and fear. They also find he has been dining alone in his room, eating canned food all along. Pretty creepy in the Dekker tradition. He dons sunglasses, even at night, for fear of being recognized. All his paranoia may be hard to sit through. Turns out, Carney left a note for Kennedy about canceling the groom’s elimination. One doubts that Dekker’s secretary will ever come forward about Craig’s monetary shortfall.