VICE SQUAD (1953)

United Artists distributed this Gramercy Pictures (II) production. Not a great film on the whole, but it is quite satisfying with a script that elicits a fast pace. Judging by the dynamic, dangerous opening score by Hershel Burke Gilbert, one could get the idea that one is about to watch a hardened crime story. But it is as lighthearted as it is gritty. And it is not gritty. Sterling Hayden is not in the cast. It portrays a busy day in the life of the police department with enough characters and subplots to suit a typical episodic television drama show, some fifty years later. Five years later, Jack Hawkins played Gideon of Scotland Yard in a similar premise. There are at least four in this film that United Artists tapped into from the prior year: Adam Williams, Byron Kane, Edward Binns, Harlan Warde, and composer Hershel Burke Gilbert for Without Warning!.

The principal characters revealed in the film are related to one another in some way. The film lays all this out to resolve the main plot of the film, the murder of a police officer. Playing the police captain is Hollywood stalwart Edward G. Robinson. It is a joy to watch him juggle the script's characters in and out of his precinct. The captain has experience on his side. Calm and compassionate, he can be tough if necessary, breaking with police protocol to ensure justice is served. He deftly prioritizes the cases that arise and handles each with appropriate timing. Some encounters are rather humorous (see note below).

Known for his befuddled, confounded characters, Porter Hall (above) is simply exasperating here as a “respected” community businessman with no spine. His credentials usually can mask his illicit female encounters. He is not funny, but his predicament is. He witnessed the murder of the police officer. His attorney, Barry Kelly, assures him of an early release from custody. Both get a few slick runarounds by Robinson, with Kelly at his wits' end. Robinson is not letting Hall go until he uncovers the truth.

Jay Adler is perfect as the quintessential, nervous weasel with a season pass to the vice squad's interrogation room. Adler has relevant information, but his memory is foggy due to fear for his own life. Robinson lets him sweat it out until his “fog” clears. With great reluctance, he lets it slip about an upcoming bank robbery. 

Christine White portrays a daughter concerned that her elderly, gullible mother is being taken by a two-timer who calls himself a Count. Robinson explains that falling in love is no crime, but he will look into the matter. The Captain is concerned enough to have the charming Count brought in for questioning. Robinson relies on a professor of psychology, also a linguistic expert, played by Byron Kane, to assess whether he is telling the truth. While the doctor is of Italian heritage, the Count's fake dialect puts him far from Italy. Indeed, he is an American citizen, likely from the Midwest. It is a delightfully slick procedure.

Paulette Goddard gets second billing here. I got the feeling she relished the part. The police captain and her character have a mutual understanding. She runs a lady's "escort bureau” and has provided Robinson with valuable information in the past. Robinson needs to have her come to the precinct about a young buck with a thing for one of her ladies. She says she cannot possibly come immediately. Robinson puts her on hold about three times, giving two officers time to arrive and take her downtown. 

Adam Williams is the laid-back lady's man, currently set to help pull off a bank robbery. He had an alibi during the opening murder scene. Taking part in a robbery will likely send him back to the "big house." He skips out right before the bank heist. Gilbert's pounding score is effective leading up to the robbery. Officers are positioned throughout the bank in a typically tense situation. A clichéd female bank hostage gives Ed Binns and his wheelman, Lee Van Cleef, a living exit over the other two partners. Gilbert's score intensifies the suspense at the hideout as the hostage attempts to escape. 

Williams, the cool, quiet guy, suddenly becomes a blue ribbon champion at a state fair's “Angry Yelling” contest once apprehended and questioned about who committed the officer's murder. Perhaps he was bipolar all along. Another clever ploy by Robinson gets the information he wanted. Binns leaves the warehouse horizontally limp during his attempted escape. The only one of the gang recommended for the state's room and board is Van Cleef.

Note: Percy Helton (top image) turns in a brief, memorably humorous performance. Because of more pressing issues, Robinson keeps him waiting, fully aware of his condition. Helton is being followed by shadows. Television pictures all over him. Especially on Wednesdays. The police captain compassionately states that he simply needs a “witness” to legally have the police look into the matter. Helton sincerely has no clue how to find one. Robinson suggests a local psychiatrist. Helton is highly encouraged.

ACCUSED OF MURDER (1956)

Filmed in Naturama, Republic’s answer to Paramount’s VistaVision, and Truecolor, where interior shots looked crisp and realistically, yet cold, this seventy-four-minute film is a pretty lackluster outing for a mostly competent cast. They lift this to a solidly average B-movie. Distributed by Republic Pictures, it is directed and produced by Joseph Kane, and is based on the novel, "Vanity Row" by W. R. Burnett. The seventy-four-minute screenplay is by Burnett and Robert Creighton Williams. A film probably dismissed once leaving the theater.

You witness a murder. You arrange to meet the assumed murderer, hitman Warren Stevens, with the intent of blackmail. How dumb do you need to be? Like Virginia Grey in this role. Her “dance for hire” job stinks and she looks marked for death from her first scene. After she confronts Stevens, he insists he did not commit any murder and decks Grey. But neither is quite through. She pesters him by phone later, with Stevens returning to severely beat her as a final warning. Grey will be the performance best remembered from this film.

Stevens is on a shortlist of suspects, the other being Vera Ralston, who portrays a singer, after a fashion, whose nightclub is frequented by Sydney Blackmer, an underworld lawyer. To him, her dubbed vocals are like sugar to a cockroach. I could have used closed captioning for some of her dialogue due to her thick accent. Despite this possible communication problem, Blackmer is interested in marriage, a thought that never occurred to her. He does not take her rejection gracefully.

During the investigation, the police lieutenant, David Brian, after hearing---translating---her story to his fellow officers, gets more involved with Ralston than official police procedures. His performance is the other one remembered. He is solid and believable, coming off strong yet compassionate. He is sympathetic toward Ralston believing she is innocent, though growing evidence provides doubts. Squint-eyed partner, Lee Van Cleef, pressures Brian, suggesting he has a conflict of interest. Cleef possesses a most unfortunate last name for an aspiring sergeant: Lackey. There are a few twists and curves to keep one guessing how Blackmer expired with an ending that may surprise you. But by shaving fifteen minutes never to be missed, it could have played better as an hour-long early television episode.