Paid to Kill (a.k.a. Five Days) (1954)

Directed by Montgomery Tully; produced by Anthony Hinds

James Nevill (Dane Clark), president of Amalgamated Industries, is a man who takes chances in business. His latest chance, a partnership with mercurial entrepreneur Cyrus McGowan (Howard Marion Crawford), seems to fall through, and he is faced with ruin and disgrace. In order to provide for his wife, Andrea (Thea Gregory), and escape the wreck of his reputation, Nevill blackmails an old acquaintance, Paul Kirby (Paul Carpenter) into killing him. When McGowan renews their partnership, however, Nevill’s desire to live is restored - but he can’t find Kirby to break their deal.

It seems to me that I have come across similar plots - in movies or television - before, though I can’t name the sources. It may be that Paid to Kill was one of the earliest to use the plot device of a man arranging his own death, changing his mind and having difficulty cancelling his arrangements. In any case, the movie is only partially successful.

The principal villain in the movie’s failure is the script. There are a number of questions which show carelessness in the writing. For instance, when Nevill wants to call off Kirby, he instructs his secretary (Cecile Chevreau) to contact him and inform him ‘the deal is off’, without of course telling his secretary about the ‘deal’. But to give Kirby an alibi, Nevill arranged for him to appear to be in Dublin for ten days’ medical treatment. Either the secretary should believe this and not know where or how to contact Kirby or, more likely, she should not even know who Kirby is. It isn’t until later that the arrangement is revealed to her.

The alibi Nevill prepares for Kirby is itself misplaced, since the desparate businessman appears to decide on his own murder the day McGowan backs out of the partnership. Nevill’s blackmail of Kirby seems to occur that very night, yet Nevill tells Kirby that doctors, hospital stay, x-rays, etc., will be all set for the killer’s alibi. The story gives no time for Nevill to build this façade.

And why does Nevill need to provide for his wife? They live in a mansion, with servants and spacious grounds, and she refers to ‘his’ money, implying wealth. If there are other debts rendering insurance payments necessary for a survivor’s comfortable life, these are not mentioned. For that matter, if the embarrassment Nevill would suffer due to McGowan’s desertion is financial, his own funds should be enough at least to serve as collateral for a loan.

A member of the board of Nevill’s company hates him, denigrating his methods of business. What we see of Nevill’s methods are not particularly low, nor even a little unpleasant, however risky they may be. It would have been informative to know to what specifically the board member objected. As well, there is a point at which the plot shifts a little, taking attention away from Kirby, and passing it to an unknown character. This is done too early, and gives away the game a little too easily.

An accomplice in the film’s lack of success is the acting. Though Clark handles his rôle well, as do a few other actors, some are definitely not even up to B-movie standards. Gregory and Carpenter are the primary culprits. The direction is adequate, Tully - who seems exclusively to have helmed low-budget works - does what he can with the limited production values, and creates a few good scenes.

Though armed with a decent premise, which the plot twist half-way through could have assisted if handled correctly, Paid to Kill fails to surprise or excite, and doesn’t give the viewer enough credit in its presentation of the story.

Cloudburst (1951)

Directed by Francis Searle; produced by Alexander Paal

In 1946 England, government cryptographer and war-veteran John Graham (Robert Preston) is looking forward to the birth of his son, and, with his wife, Carol (Elizabeth Sellars), watching him grow, attend Graham’s old school and play sports. These dreams are crushed when Carol is killed by a fleeing couple of murderers (Harold Lang, Sheila Burrell). Hiding evidence from the police to use for himself, Graham embarks on a hunt for the killers, to do to them what they did to his wife.

With a bit of a twist on the usual vigilante-out-for-revenge premise, Cloudburst has promise, but doesn’t really fulfill it. Much is made of Graham’s job in making and breaking codes but, except for a gimmick of a dropped clue, which is unnecessary, it merely uses up time. It doesn’t contribute to the story. If Carol had been killed in connection with her husband’s work, and breaking codes was integral to the plot, there would have been more interest to it.

The story itself tends to diminish the urgency or, perhaps, even the necessity of the plot. The murderers, already wanted for the death of a watchman, could be clearly identified by Graham. With what he sees and hears during the incident, he has information that would lead the police relatively swiftly to the culprits. He chooses to withhold what he knows in order to utilise it himself. The motivation is understandable - based on what Carol had said earlier, Graham is determined to find the killers himself - but it nonetheless makes his hunt for them almost a luxury, in terms of plot.

The script is co-written by the director and Leo Marks, who wrote the play from which the movie came. Marks was involved in the sort of intelligence and special operations work with which John Graham is involved, so the expertise is there, it’s just not well used. As well, the movie doesn’t take advantage of the dialogue: one scene features a character speaking of rage overcoming her like a cloudburst (the source of the title, no doubt); would it not have been entertaining to have the climax occur during such a meteorological event, giving both excitement and appropriateness?

The acting is fine. Preston, playing a Canadian, so that he doesn’t have to attempt an English accent, does a good job as the driven man. Sellars performs well in what is rather a small rôle, and the other actors offer the usual solid support found in British films, especially of the 1940s and ‘50s.

Francis Searle directed many films (though his last decade of productivity appears to have been given over to shorts), but none was particularly distinguished; Cloudburst was one of his more critically successful efforts. The direction seen in it, however, gives an indication of why Searle isn’t better known: there are some effective scenes, but nothing memorable. He does manage to break the story away from its stage origins.

While a moderately enjoyable film, Cloudburst leaves undone much that could have made it better, missing opportunities that would have given it characteristics different than many in its genre.

An Ungentlemanly Act (1992)

Directed by Stuart Urban; produced by Bradley Adams

On 2 April, 1982, Argentine armed forces attacked the British colony of the Falkland Islands, in order to annex what their country claimed to be Argentine territory. While the signs of such an invasion were clear, the governor of the islands, Rex Hunt (Ian Richardson), receives confirmation only on 1 April. To repel - or, realistically, to offer resistance to - the invaders, Hunt has a small force of Royal Marines (larger than usual, as the relieved garrison is still present, as is the relieving party) and a smaller force of militia. To the confusion of conflicting goals, contrasting responsibilities and intense stress are added the inevitable tragedy and comedy of a crisis.

An interesting and entertaining movie from BBC Television, An Ungentlemanly Act rises above the usual quality of tv fare to equal a small-scale but excellent cinematic production. This is due to several factors, including the acting, the direction and the script that clings closely to real-life events.

Richardson was one of the leading British stage actors, though he became famous through his screen-work, particularly as the devious politician in House of Cards (1990). British actors, unlike American (at least until recently), moved easily from stage to tv to movie to radio, considering no medium less than the others, and Richardson anchors An Ungentlemanly Act. Creating an urbane and cultured character, Richardson makes Hunt an effective official but also sympathetic; somebody whom one would like as a boss.

Equal to Richardson’s standard is Bob Peck, as the commander of the slim military forces the British initially have at their disposal. His Major Norman is, like Hunt, a good leader, tough, with a an understanding of the men under his command, though a stickler for details. Other performers include Rosemary Leach as Mrs Hunt and Ian McNiece as the colony’s chief secretary, both veteran actors. There isn’t a player who shouldn’t have been cast.

The story is a big element in the movie’s success. It starts slow, perhaps predictably, showing the various characters, especially the islanders, rather like an English village, isolated, and used to coping with their own resources. At one point, the viewer might wonder if the invasion is ever going to get under way, but when it does, we are treated to a series of encounters between opposing forces that are both realistic and exciting.

The script is superior, not so much in the lines spoken but in what they convey. In particular, the frustration that both the civil side (represented by Hunt) and the military (Norton) feel due to London’s tardiness (or reluctance) to relay information to the people on the spot is well expressed, in a restrained British manner. The conflict, such as it is, between Hunt and Norton over objectives of resistance is also clearly displayed, as is the fact that both are in the right: Norton looks at things purely militarily, while Hunt must consider political matters, along with his responsibility to the people he governs.

Individual character is not neglected. It’s interesting that Hunt initially might seem rather exaggerated in his display of ceremony, yet he knows his job and his duties, and maintains a sense of humour and sympathy in different situations. An intriguing character is played by Antonio Valero: the islanders assume he is an Argentine spy, yet like him nonetheless. His later drunken telephone call demonstrates both his feelings and which service he is in.

The story appears evenly balanced, with no good guys or bad guys. Though the British are defending their territory, the Argentine servicemen are patriotic, too. While their government at the time was a dictatorship then torturing and killing opponents, the soldiers and sailors in the assault see their actions as redressing an historical wrong. The actions of the men in combat are those of struggling to achieve goals against every obstacle, human and inanimate, not just an enemy.

The only drawback to An Ungentlemanly Act, for some viewers, may be the British accents of the islanders. I don’t know if the Falklands creates its own accent, but the people display a variety, from differs parts and classes of the British Isles, and these may, at first, cost some viewers comprehension. Apart from this, the film is a fine and compelling examination of a small incident, large to those involved, that led to something even larger.

The Proud Ones (1956)

Directed by Robert D Webb; produced by Robert L Jacks

The railway has come to a small Kansas town, prompting a boom: cattlemen are driving their herds in for shipping, hotels and saloons are opening, and gambling houses are mushrooming. Marshal Cass Silver (Robert Ryan) is probably alone in disliking the sudden growth. Especially since along with the wave of sudden prosperity comes ‘Honest John’ Barrett, an entrepreneur with a shady past and a history with Silver. Each man wants the other gone, but only Barrett will stoop to murder to have his way.

The Proud Ones is not a particularly distinguished western, despite the good cast. It has some interesting elements. That it takes place at a time of sudden and almost over-night growth in a town is different than in many westerns; it’s more usual to have a town where nothing is seen to change. The change happening here is a catalyst, not just for the plot, but for characters: most of the town is in favour of the increased business, new people and excitement. Even Silver’s girlfriend, Sally (Virginia Mayo), who runs a restaurant, likes it. For the marshal, it just means trouble.

The plot doesn’t take as much advantage of this as it could. It is shunted too strongly toward a semi-revenge story-line: young Thad Anderson (Jeffrey Hunter) thinks Silver killed his father, and just happens to be driving cattle near Silver’s town. His decision to befriend Silver is too abrupt, and even then, he seems to waver between believing Silver’s version of past events and not.

Added to the mix is Silver’s trouble with his eyesight: a blow to the head leaves him with periodic blurry vision.

Any of these elements would have been enough to build a story around. Including all of them leaves each not only incomplete but only half-heartedly contributing to the movie.

The acting is good. It’s enjoyable to see Ryan playing an unmitigated good guy, though he still gives the impression that he is the last man any troublemaker would want to annoy. Hunter does well, though I am beginning to think that he had too many early rôles as a young man with a chip on his shoulder. Mayo is under-used in her part; as well, Walter Brennan and Arthur O’Connell were at points in their careers when they should have had more to do in the film.

The direction is nothing extraordinary. This may have been Webb’s biggest effort in that regard; he alternated work as a director of mediocre films with that of a second unit director on bigger budget movies (eg. The Desert Fox) and even blockbusters (eg. Cleopatra). Despite his experience, and his family’s history in Hollywood, he creates nothing remarkable in The Proud Ones.

A fairly standard western, The Proud Ones has some interesting features that may allow it to be remembered. Nonetheless, I can’t see any viewer wanting to see it a second time.

Dark City (1998)

Directed by Alex Proyas; produced by Andrew Mason and Alex Proyas

A man (Rufus Sewell) wakes in a hotel room, remembering nothing of who he is. A telephone call warning him that people are coming for him sends him on the run from strange-looking men, as well as the police, who suspect him of being a serial killer. Discovering himself to be John Murdoch, he is lost in a city of endless night, where everything, including memories, keeps changing.

Dark City combines science fiction and fantasy with film noir in a highly original movie. Though the principal actor is Sewell, the real stars are the set design and art direction. The setting looks like a 1940s American city, maybe New York, maybe Los Angeles, and neither. The clothes, technology and furniture suggest the same time and place, but with enough difference to imply that quality of dreams that places the dreamer in a location he recognizes, even though it looks nothing like the real thing.

The story is intriguing and involving. It builds as the characters, including William Hurt as a cerebral police detective who finds too much wrong with the case he’s inherited, realise there is more going on than simple if heinous crimes. There are some holes in the plot, such as the fact that if a person’s memories alter enough to make him a different individual, all the memories of those who ever met him would also need to change to support the new identity. And the ending is weak, though only because it is rather more literal than what had preceded it.

The script is well written, and complements the dream-like - at times nightmarish - aspects of the story. It is especially effective when dialogue gives vague or inconclusive answers which, paradoxically, accentuate features of the movie. At one point, Murdoch tries to reach a location only to find the subway doesn’t go so far; he must take the express. When the express doesn’t stop for him, he is told that of course it doesn’t stop: it’s the express. The lines spoken help create a puzzle seemingly without escape: frustrating for the characters but intriguing for the viewer.

Sewell does very well in the lead. He is suitably dark and brooding for an air of possible menace to be given to Murdoch, but sympathetic enough for a hero. Jennifer Connolly does a good job in the role of Murdoch’s bemused wife, and Hurt, who probably would have had a longer and fuller career as a leading man if audiences had not had to think about his performances, is likeable as the investigator.

Many of the cast is Antepodean (Proyas was raised in Australia), reflecting its origins, including Bruce Spence, Melissa George and Colin Friels. Richard O’Brien, who wrote the original stage version of The Rocky Horror Show (1973; adapted for the screen as The Rocky Horror Picture Show two years later) is the leading antagonist, Mr Hand. Ian Richardson gives both authority and evil to his part as Mr Book.

A cinematically visual treat, reminiscent of Terry Gilliam’s Brazil, Dark City is an entertaining and, at times, mesmerising journey into a strange and frightening world. (If possible, see the director’s cut, which removes the exasperating exposition at the beginning, which gives the game away; the studio felt audiences needed to be told the whole story at the start.)

Bob le flambeur (1956)

Directed by Jean-Pierre Melville; produced by Jean-Pierre Melville, Serge Silberman, Roger Vidal

Bob Montagne (Roger Duchesne) is a veteran criminal and gambler. He’s a respectable, classy man, whom everyone likes, even the police, a high-ranking officer of which (Guy Decomble) owes his life to Bob. But Bob’s luck comes and goes. The day he is down to his last few francs is when he learns that the casino at Deauville routinely keeps a fortune in its safe. Naturally, that safe is heavily protected. Just as naturally, Bob wants to rob it.

An interesting movie, Bob le flambeur comes across as a cheaper, less refined version of the better French crime-films of the mid-1950s, such as Touchez pas au grisbi (the first movie reviewed on this blog this year). The direction seems that of someone still learning his trade, though this was Melville’s fourth feature.

There are several scenes which include people in the background watching the events, as if the filming was conducted without permission, or without involving everyone visible in the shoot. In another scene, shot outdoors, the sound of an aeroplane flying overhead nearly blots out the dialogue, indicating that later dubbing was not used, and little care taken to preclude unintended noises. Though much of the direction is effective, it nonetheless almost conveys the impression of a student film, shot by someone of considerable but undeveloped talent.

The acting too is less capable than in other French movies of the era. Duchesne had made more than a dozen movies in four years, many of them during the German occupation of France. He was shunned afterward as a collaborator, and had not acted for thirteen years prior to Bob le flambeur. While good, he has not the ease or charisma of actors who would rise to the top of French cinema, such as Gabin, Belmondo or Delon.

The performer who stands out most prominently is seventeen year old Isabelle Corey (here credited as Isobel Corey). Her portrayal of Anne, a youngster on the road to ruin, until saved by Bob, is convincing. So too is Decomble’s, playing a cop who is good at and dedicated to his job, but preferring to prevent crime than investigate it.

The script is better than other elements, co-written by Auguste Le Breton, who penned, among other screenplays, Rififi and Razzia sur la chnouf. It creates a winning character in Bob, who protects Anne from a violent pimp, but shuns romance with such a kid, despite her willingness; whose robberies hurt no one - except himself - and whose instinct is to help, even his enemies. The other characters are, if not well-defined, realistic, variously driven by love, greed, desperation and boredom.

A good but not very good film, Bob le flambeur would probably not be one to entice viewers deeper into French 1950s cinema, as would a number of other choices. But for someone who isn’t demanding, and who is willing to be entertained without being impressed, it is a reasonably enjoyable evening at the movies.