With
film camera secured, the viewer rides along with Rory Calhoun's 1956
Chrysler convertible as he motors his way to convince crime kingpin James Gregory, to help organize another heist. Lounging poolside at
his estate, appearing a legit businessman, Gregory angrily tells his
former operative—in no
uncertain terms—he is not
interested and to take a hike. Calhoun reemphasizes it involves a
bank that regularly holds a million dollars before distribution to
nearby Camp Pendleton. In the very next scene, Gregory and his girl, Mary
Costa, are passengers in the convertible to case the bank. A
salivating Gregory has Calhoun abandon his fancy New Yorker for a
mid-forties beater, sets him up as a gas station owner, and buys a
large house where he and Costa can establish themselves as a married
couple. The big house simply to hide the heist team. However, after
four months, Costa starts liking her domestic role and the fact that
Calhoun knows how to make pancakes without them sticking to the
griddle. Their neighbors establish Scrabble night, and their young son now refers to Calhoun as "uncle." With every vacuuming,
Costa thinks less and less of dirtbag Gregory.
This
eighty-five-minute American film noir crime film was directed by
Robert Stevens from a screenplay by Martin Berkeley based on the
novel of the same name by Lionel White. United Artists released a
dandy, yet oft-told story about another well-financed and planned
robbery. Filmed beneath opening titles and an Albert Glasser score,
that automotive opening is a good setup for a heist film, and it is worth going into some detail about it.
Everyone
is first-rate in this crime film. Calhoun is his cool self in one of his better crime films of the Fifties. Costa is also quite good in only her second film,
possessing an intelligent vocal delivery and on-screen composure—not playing to the camera. Gregory is excellent in a role familiar to
him. He mentions serving five years for a robbery as a young kid. He
may not have been incarcerated since, but he has been slippery enough
to avoid any more downtime. The guy has deep pockets. Gregory's
booming, foghorn voice—his trademarked mumbling through some lines
as if it is an aside—and sarcastic comments toward the suspected
“happy couple” clearly reveal his ruthless side.
Making
the film much more memorable, however, are two psychopaths (above). Robert
Harris' entrance at the Calhoun house—squinting,
sweating, with an untidy appearance—is
the first standout. Harris had a knack for convincing performances as
an overheated, demented, near-sighted weasel. An expert in
explosives—his “bang juice”—he also has a gin problem.
His thought processing is seemingly incoherent; he settles into his room, and Calhoun tells him the gin is off-limits until after the robbery.
Approaching another meltdown, he lights a match to calm himself. He is
mesmerized by the flame. The normally dark-haired Corey Allen is also
hard to forget as a short-cropped, bleached blonde in glistening dark suntan makeup. Cold-blooded murder seems to be his most enjoyable pastime.
That, and listening to Glasser's jazz score via a record player prop. Hollywood thought there was some sort of connection between
a jazz freak and a white-haired murderer with a bow tie. To say he is
on edge is an understatement. His role seems to follow up on his
previous 1957 film, The Shadow on the Window.
The
customary review of the caper's details is to be expected. Gregory is
pretty ecstatic to go over the crude map and everyone's role to play.
Filming of the successful robbery is effectively not drawn out with a
redundant set of visuals. A tense moment occurs when the neighbor
pays a visit to the house. Tagging along is his son with an armful of
lost dog. The dog bolts up the stairway where the gang is hiding,
nearly going to dog heaven by an Allen knife. Glasser's score ramps
up the intensity.
Harris's
two diversionary explosions will create chaos—one at a high school
on Saturday night, assuming no one will be there. He nearly soils
himself talking about his assignment. There will be a power outage,
thanks to another Paul Picerni criminal role with Allen
elected as the wheelman. The exciting, rapid climax includes a
believable, choreographed fight scene between Calhoun and Gregory when
the latter tries to escape with the loot. Wisely, it was all shot in
shadows. Now a genuine couple, the last seconds of the film have “The
Calhouns” making a decision that will more than likely reduce
their jail time.
Notes: A couple of amusing bits come after Calhoun signs the papers for the gas station. The elderly gas station owner quickly calls his wife about the sale, "Get the trailer fixed. The suckers fell for it!" Another chuckling scene is when Harris, angered over his gin restrictions, knocks Calhoun out and dumps his body from the car on the night of the heist. The camera then has a distant shot of the car parked behind a “No Dumping” sign.
