Reviews

First off - did anybody else notice the close resemblance of James Lanphier who played the Landlord and Ross Martin? When Lanphier walked into frame I thought for the longest time that HE was a probable suspect... (Do a Google image search for James Lanphier to see what I mean)

Anywhoo, a good solid, police procedural with a number of plot holes that didn't spoil the fun.

Lee Remick, was gorgeous and gave a convincing show of terror, Stefanie Powers when SHE was menaced in turn turned into a shivering wreck.

Glenn Ford was personable and believable as an FBI agent and from telling somebody he'd "never had to shoot anybody" managed to up his body count by the movie's end.

The final crowd scenes at Candelstick Park added tension but kinda telegraphed what the finale would be...

Another reviewer incorrectly attributes the dubbed voice of Vader to that fine actor, Edward James Olmos. It was, in fact James Earl Jones who voiced the part. This documentary, although well intentioned was clearly hamstrung by being unable to use any clips from the first two Star Wars movies. It seems obvious that when Lucasfilm realized they were being painted as the villain they refused to grant permission. As a result, shadowy images of the main characters appear, hardly a replacement for the real thing. Prowse parlayed his body building skills into "big men" parts, mostly in low budget British horror movies and the part of Vader was a major one but hid his features behind a mask for the entire screenplay. In effect, fame without recognition. The young director felt that Prowse was robbed of a chance to BE Vader and be recognized, so he gathered a team to recreate the "death scene" where Vader, unmasked and dying utters those oft quoted words "Luke, I am your father". Once again, almost certainly due to copyright restrictions we are denied the chance to actually see the finished product, which rather defeats the whole object of the exercise.

My forgiving temperament allowed me to score it 2, but really this is SO much a 1 ! Mr Lee does his best with a woefully underwritten part and certainly looks wise he is true to the Stoker written description, a lack of rapport from the German actors around him stifled any possible creativity. Herbert Lom is always good value but was written as someone doubtful of his own extensive research and looked too dithering in most of the group scenes. The ladies were pretty clotheshorses and the leading men sturdy and handsome but none seemed to be engaged with the story itself. Cinematography was pretty abysmal, indeed many scenes were cloaked in utter darkness with only the soundtrack to tell us anything was happening. Shooting day-for-night was a farce as the super bright Spanish sun in most exterior shots completely washed out the shaded parts, leaving us bemused and befuddled. Dubbing was generally good but dear me, those cut glass English accents sat ill with those European faces. Kinski was totally wasted, Renfield in the book is central in moving the plot forward, his silence gave us nothing. The minuscule budget meant studio scenes (Renfield's cell etc) were little better than Community Theater quality with plain walls and invisible ceilings. Perhaps American audiences would swallow the "English" scenes but to this Brit the architecture screamed Southern Europe (and I guessed, correctly Spain. If this director is considered cutting edge for the 21st century I feel sorry for the next generation...

The other reviews here which seem mainly to originate in the US/Canada and other countries far from England seem to qualify this movie as the "Real Deal" and compare it favorably with more established gritty crime dramas around the same period. I have to beg to differ. The ploy of casting a Hollywood B-Lister in the lead to increase chances of a release in the US gives such hybrids an uneven texture. The very premise of the suave thief, the jail break, the loot in the vault (the McGuffin here), the double cross, the party girl to help him works believably in New York or Boston or Chicago but falls flat in London, especially since they use so many London tourist landmarks to "prove" it's real. Nader does his best and Bernard Lee gave a nice turn as a turncoat friend, but Maggie Smith's part is terribly underwritten (possibly because the misogynistic Kenneth Tynan was co-writer...)and she is little more than a cipher, looking vague and a little lost and speaking in a tiny voice.

I'm British born and grew up in the period this was made - it's a dud.

The only bright spot was Harry H. Corbett (pre-Steptoe) in a too brief cameo as a gang boss

Some of the location shooting in a snowy wilderness uses the then-new Cinemascope to best advantage but too much is on a, frankly, phony looking indoor set no better than something used on some TV cowboy serial. Initially, it seems to be a Western, the clothes and firearms suggest sometime between 1880 and 1900, but the humble exterior of the log cabin has an interior with finished walls and fancy furniture that could be as late as 1920 in some remote parts of The West. That aside, the plot is byzantine, with an English accented, drunken father, a crone like mother and three sons (all so different as to be adopted!!)Hopper as the eldest is bookish and gentle and apparently on a higher spiritual plane, Mitchum the next, is rough, crude and sexually suggestive to the girl loved by youngest son, Tab Hunter, whose blonde hair and perfect teeth belong on a California surfing beach. What exact purpose the old "Indian" (played by 26 year old Alfafa actor Schwitzer)has in unclear. He mostly lurks, grimaces and mumbles phrases that are supposed to be insightful, but sound like Tonto on Mogadon. It looks like a stage play but has origins on the printed page, very uneven, veering from boredom to low comedy (the drunken father's numerous hidey holes for his bottles of booze). Hopper does well with a part that suits his laid-back style but Mitchum fails to convince as the predatory, lascivious middle son.

Gazarra carries the movie, although his low key emoting and lack of reaction to events around him make it seem a little too "Method" for my taste. The screenplay is too superficial in moving him swiftly from Death Row, in flashback to the crime and forward to Folsom.

Opening titles blare that Rod Steiger, Broderick Crawford and Vincent Price are featured players but taking a bathroom break could cause you to miss any of them. Steiger chews the scenery introducing himself as the steely chief warder who wields a big stick, but is never seen again. Crawford in a silk suit (???) is a "Big Daddy" style head of the prison reviewing the new prisoners and after a brief exposition with Stuart Whitman wanders off into the prison. Price gets the best deal, playing to his strength as a slightly arch art critic visiting the prison his interaction with Gazarra is believable and moves the plot along swiftly. Ray Walston can't make his mind up whether to be tough, kooky or homicidal (maybe the script gave too many options?) but steals scenes with ease. Sammy David Jnr has the chops to play the tough, little guy but is mostly there as the token black who is given a window into life with Gazarra teaches him to read (alluded to but never shown). What could have been a meaningful look at the US prison system is no more than a formulaic "big house" story that could have been made in the 1930's

I was a spotty 17 year old in London when this series first turned up on British TV. Few of the first generation of American cop shows (like "Dragnet") got much airing in Britain (I think the powers-that-be assumed we scruffs would be inspired by the tough, gun toting bad guys portrayed). so Tightrope had the field pretty much to itself. The "unique selling point" was the character's wearing his pistol in a holster in the small of his back - OHMIGOD! Who would ever think of looking there? (I wonder if this was the inspiration for the "pat-downs" seen today that run the hands all over the body and down the legs?). Anyway...the shows were fast paced, Connors was smart and savvy and believable as a tough, no nonsense undercover cop (even THAT was a new concept) and the regular fistfights were a cut above the Brit style "left hook and He's down!" even though muted by the Production Code.

This was at the time that the James Bond books were THE big seller and talk was of a film (imagine!) and I remember thinking that Connors, with his dark, good looks, stylish dress sense and even the errant lock of hair that fell across his forehead was exactly as described in Fleming's books. An American as Bond? Well, they've had a Scot, an Irishman, and an Australian so it's not such a leap - I'll bet Connors could have done the accent, too!!

Sorry if that title confuses but, watching this on TCM recently I was convinced this was made in the early 40's so was amazed to see the 1956 date on it. It was the staging and story arc so reminiscent of several Bogart and Cagney movies that made it seem so dated in it's overall production.

That being said, John Payne gives a powerful and well nuanced performance as a man whose inner turmoil of unrequited love, filial duty and tussles with what is "right" (feeling he has to marry a one night stand) and the attraction of an easy but crooked lifestyle are visible on his gradually hardening features as he ages - nicely done.

Based clearly on the Pendegast machine of the 20's and 30's the action becomes a little stereotyped, with the "good citizens" of the town having to include a priest as a sign of moral rectitude.

Brady's downfall in the Crash of 1929 is perhaps a little convenient (a sharp guy like this would have had hot cash stashed in many accounts and ensured that the diamonds seen earlier were part of a large collection of readily realizable assets but, I digress)and the heavy symbolism of the final shot of Payne shuffling towards the shadow of a tall, barred prison gate, dropping the cigar that had been his symbol of success owes much to the existential films coming out of many central European studios at the time.

An excellent central performance but Dalton Trumbo's uncredited screenplay lays on the "truth prevails" message too heavily.

The movie is no great shakes but the images of a 1930's New York are to be treasured. Six Day Bicycle Races at Madison Square Garden, the pseudo Cotton Club with "native" dancers with huge Afros and feather headdresses (no bones through the nose, fortunately), audiences for wrestling matches all in formal evening wear...magic! McCrea gives his usual sterling performance, he could show integrity with a steely glance and does well as a former Dartmouth letterman lured into pro wrestling for the easy money. Robert Benchley steals the too few scenes he is in and there is a nice contrast between the "straight arrow" world of Dartmouth and the murky world of pro-wrestling. The final match itself where McCrea is scheduled to throw the bout but instead grapples to win is poorly handled, too many shots are undercranked to make them appear more flowing and violent but succeed only in giving a Keystone Kops-like manic quality to them. Although McCrea clearly does a number of the action sequences there are also several shots where a body double takes the falls and whose shock of dark hair compares poorly with McCrea's blond locks.

Since there is no Discussion Board for this movie I'll ask here - the black trainer in McCrea's corner has "Satchmo" stitched onto his sweater and he has a certain resemblance to a young Louis Armstrong, he's not credited, but COULD it be him?

As this farce began with the sonorous tones telling us how "the red man" considered the buffalo a gift from The Great Spirit I though for a moment that it was small documentary, but NO! Instead we are shown "The Tracey Gang" blazing away with their Winchesters at the buffalo herd which seems to spook and run away (so much for their marksmanship!). Caught red handed with the hides by White Hat Wearing Hero their leader can only intone "Guess you got us bang to rights, this time" and seem sure to spend a long time in the Big House. Several years later White Hat Hero is coerced into becoming marshal of Civilisation, Kansas (shown in stock shots from "Dodge City" to be wild and lawless). The Stacey gang have somehow (???) been released from jail and are basically running the town, and then board a train carrying a gold shipment guarded only by the lovely Dorothy Malone, who fills a skin tight shirt very nicely, thank you.. White Hat Hero and his two "chums" are on the train, have seen the shadow of a man on top of the carriage plus the gang walking through to the baggage car but must be half asleep as until the gang start shooting in the baggage car they take no action. Finally, good confronts bad in the confines of the baggage car and all six are blazing away with Colt 45's. The Stacey gang's aim hasn't improved over the years and only the scenery get's holes in it, they escape by holding the hapless Malone as a shield.

There is more, but I don't have the heart to burden you with it, suffice to say it's a BAD film, cheaply made and poorly acted, bulked out with "Dodge City" footage requiring White Hat Hero to change his clothes to match the Flynn footage.

If a young Dorothy Malone in her prime is your bag, then watch it with the sound off, otherwise go watch paint dry.

Having just watched this mess on TCM (for the second time) my opinion is unchanged. It's a poor attempt to make a sub-Hitchcock mystery/murder film that misses the mark by a mile.

The basic plot of an amnesiac American awaking in a London hospital with no idea who he is or how he got there has genuine possibilities and Robert Webber puts in a sterling performance.

But, Oh my! The gaping plot holes allow the film to sink quickly into a visual mess and clichéd dialogue. Let's overlook the Americanism of "I woke in hospital and somebody had paid all the bills"- News Flash, back in '64 the National Health Service actually worked and medical treatment was FREE. In real life he would have contacted the US Embassy and got them researching his identity, but no he uses the keys to the penthouse (a rather chi-chi set out of Times Furnishing..)and accepts all the free wardrobe, gold watch and apparently unlimited food and booze without question.

The obligatory "mystery woman" appears and he chases fruitlessly after her but then she in turn pops up in the apartment (how? Did she have a key? Isn't that odd?)and claims to be the widow of the man in the car wreck that started the whole thing. Meanwhile He is haunted by strange headaches, visions and disembodied voices from the next (empty) apartment.

SPOILER ALERT

Major plot holes: How did the French whore not only remove his wallet but get it out of the room? What are the odds on a British girl driving a convertible just outside when he escapes the whore's toughs? Overnight he turns the frosty English girl into a love slave willing to do anything for him - must get that technique... Realising it's not a Homeland Security organisation but sneaking into England in the trunk/boot of a car - erm...think Customs just MIGHT look there... The switch into the stranger's Bentley - what line did he spin to get invited to jump in? The poorly setup "accident" - the stereotyped English family, car jacked-up on grass verge, only legs of Husband visible, Wife setting out the picnic on the verge(??) the two kids listlessly throwing a ball backwards and forwards to each other whilst only ten feet apart, the balls is mis-thrown across the road, kid runs after it and has the world's worst fake fall in the middle of the road (car is about a quarter mile away), Wife runs to pick up child, drops bottle in road, car apparently driven by a blind man simply speeds into the middle of this, hits broken glass, blows tyre, skids off road and crashes - we then see the beautiful Bentley convertible transformed into an old junker, on fire (no further sight of Verge Family). The Maurice Denham private eye character apparently follows Webber and the girl out into the country by bicycle, when they drive a Jaguar (we need him for the British Olympic cycle team!)

This was rubbish when it was made and time has not improved it.

It gets 2 points for having the sexy Jennifer Jayne (although totally wasted).

Quite the most extraordinary short I've ever seen. Almost like some drug induced hallucination. Made in 1939 when US audiences still believed that European countries were like a Ruritanian comic opera with all the courtiers in primary coloured uniforms with lots of gold braid and the ladies wore frilly peasant styles. Bring in a travelling rodeo and it's singing hero, add the obligatory plot by the dastardly would-be regent, throw in a royal carriage being chased by a posse of cowboys and finish with a rousing song espousing the benefits of Freedom and Democracy and The American Way.

Totally incoherent and delightfully silly, I suspect a bong and a couple of six packs would make this even more enjoyable.

Although unusually in colour for a second string oater, the vivid clothes of the lead females fails to bring any life to the flatly directed screenplay. The "plot" revolves around the Youngers newly released on parole attempting to go straight but being pursued by a vengeful ex-Pinkerton man (a scenery chewing Fred Clark) and a femme fatale determined to involve them in her bank robbery schemes whether they want to or not. As Cole Younger, Wayne Morris is big and hunky enough but his " cool" demeanour and wooden acting skills undermine things. The standard of action is frankly, no better than a Gene Autry or Roy Rogers TV episode with Colt .45's that never need reloading and uncanny shooting skills that allow a horse rider to shoot from the hip and wound a man from at least 50 feet...oh dear...