Murder by Proxy (1954)

Directed by Terence Fisher; produced by Michael Carreras

Casey Morrow (Dane Clark) is drowning his sorrows in a London bar when a beautiful young woman (Belinda Lee) offers him an incredible deal: £500 to marry her. Morrow passes out before he can accept or reject the fantastic proposal, and wakes the next morning not knowing quite what happened. Nor does he know that the woman has been reported as missing, and her millionaire father has been murdered. Now, Morrow may or may not be married, may or may not be a homicide suspect, and may or may not be able to find out the truth before he himself is killed.

In the 1950s, a number of films were made in Britain which put American actors in British settings and stories. The recently reviewed 36 Hours (starring Dan Duryea) and Circle of Danger (with Ray Milland) are examples. Several were made by Hammer Studios (before they became famous for their horror movies), and Murder by Proxy is one. While they were usually headlined by good but second-tier actors who were usually supporting players in their native land, most were watchable. Murder by Proxy goes one better.

The above average rating for the movie comes mainly from the performances and the dialogue. The latter must be differentiated from the actual screenplay, which is adequate but leaves its plot too loose and with too many holes. What surprised me was the layer of humour added to the proceedings. This is certainly not a comedy, but has a light touch that helps.

In the film, acquaintance Maggie Doone (Eleanor Summerfield), a Chelsea artist, persuades Morrow to investigate his dilemma on his own when he is afraid to go to the police. Morrow replies, “Play detective? Why not? I’ve seen enough movies.” Morrow proceeds to make inquiries, pretending to be anything from a reporter to a private eye, but makes assumptions and mistakes that prove he is neither. Importantly, though, the characters do not play the story for laughs, and take it seriously. Murder by Proxy is not a satire, but a movie about a man who is smart but not very smart, trying to find out the truth.

The acting of Clark and Summerfield work very well in their parts. They have a chemistry together that Clark and the female lead, Lee, do not. It would have been interesting and probably fun to see Clark and Summerfield as the couple, investigating the mystery. Lee, on the other hand, certainly portrays the femme fatale well: one truly doesn’t know whose side she is on. And that’s Cleo Lane as the night-club singer in the opening scene.

The British players are predictably good, and include Harold Lang and Michael Golden, both of whom appeared in 36 Hours. Lang creates another of his sleazy, semi-criminal characters, while Golden, who played a detective inspector in the Duryea movie, plays another - possibly the same one - in Murder by Proxy, though now he has a name.

The setting of London is neutral. It is not used particularly well and, considering that Morrow’s Polish-American mother turns out to be living, inexplicably, in England, the film would have done better to be set in Chicago - Morrow’s home-town - or other city of the United States.

With mediocre production values and humdrum directing, Murder by Proxy doesn’t rise far above the crowd of similar pictures. But with some dry humour and good work by several of the cast, it rises enough, and makes for an entertaining 87 minutes.

The Man Who Watched Trains Go By (1952)

Directed by Harold French; produced by Raymond Stross

Mild-mannered Kees Popinga (Claude Rains) is the chief clerk of an old Dutch business company who learns that his boss (Herbert Lom) has been embezzling the firm’s funds to pay for a secret life in Paris. After a confrontation between the men, Popinga ends up with a huge sum of stolen money. On an impulse, he hops on a train to Paris, where he plans to meet with his boss’s mistress (Marta Toren). Beyond that, however, neither he nor the intelligent police detective (Marius Goring) on his trail know what will happen.

Adapted from the interesting novel by Georges Simenon, The Man Who Watched Trains Go By is itself an interesting movie, but hardly involving. The fact is that the viewer does not really care what happens to Popinga. Neither the book nor the movie present Popinga in a sympathetic light, but the film does not delve deeply enough into either his motives or his mind to draw the audience in.

Events which produce logical results in the novel are omitted or changed, or moved about in their order for the screenplay, and this does not serve the story well. Popinga’s growing mental disarrangement comes across as almost haphazard, and while his adventures in Paris are probably meant to be mentally disconnected and random, they should not come across that way dramatically, but do.

The characters are certainly well constructed. The psychological aspect of Popinga’s increasing unbalance are illustrated to a decent extent, but as there is no clear goal either for himself or the audience, there is no tension or excitement. These are realistic people in a criminal world, but realism alone isn’t compelling. The only person who is at all intriguing is Lucas, the policeman.

The acting, on the other hand, is very good. Rains gives what is probably his last full and satisfying performance on film, after which he moved into minor parts and tv roles. While the story itself is less than fulfilling, Rains’s acting is something to watch, as is that of Toren, Goring and Anouk Aimée. For these efforts, The Man Who Watched Trains Go By may be worthwhile.

The movie was obviously filmed on location, and benefits greatly from it. The direction takes advantage of the settings in turning Popinga loose in a Paris about which he knows nothing. It is clear that the average audience-member feels less lost in the French capital than does the Dutchman.

All in all, The Man Who Watched Trains Go By is creditable, rather than entertaining; watchable, rather than involving. Despite the source material, the acting and the direction, the movie is more memorable for being largely forgettable than anything else.

Prizzi's Honor (1985)

Directed by John Huston; produced by John Foreman

Charley Partana (Jack Nicholson) is a hit-man and all-round fixer for the Prizzi family, headed by Don Corrado (William Hickey). At a wedding, he is smitten with Irene Walker (Kathleen Turner), a stranger who turns out to be a freelance assassin, hired one time by the Prizzis. Charley and Irene’s romance is immediate and their feelings deep, but professionally and personally it causes problems. Charley’s dilemma becomes, in his own words, “Should I ice her? Should I marry her? What do I do?”

Perhaps it is needless to write that Prizzi’s Honor is a black comedy. It’s interesting in that the sensibilities of the movie, if not always the viewpoint, is taken from Charley Partana. Our own ideas of right and wrong are superseded for the time being by his. That can be a risky proposition, but Nicholson’s performance, and the writing, manage to pull it off.

Charley is not a complex man, but, as more than one other character observes, Charley is a thinker. That can get him into trouble in his line of work, but it more often merely produces confusion, for, while Charley is a thinker, he is not, for all that, very smart. He tries his best. He reads. He draws his own conclusions; they are sometimes erroneous.

Nicholson’s acting creates a character that is quite distinct from the cool, confident people usually associated with him. Charley is confident when doing his job, but doesn’t have an answer for everything, and there are no wise-cracks to be heard. He also keeps much of what he thinks to himself: note his facial reaction to a quickly-made decision by his bosses to kill an embezzler of mob funds. Nonetheless, he is loyal to his organisation - even too loyal.

Kathleen Turner also puts in a fine performance, making Irene treat assassination like an accounting assignment, or a public relations gig. Her job doesn’t prevent her from enjoying the light-hearted side of life. Even so, Irene is not as unique a character as is Charley, and thus less interesting.

There are plenty of other fine actors in the cast. Angelica Huston’s Maerose is the principal complication in the plot, and her portrayal of a woman devious enough to run any criminal undertaking - if she weren’t so focussed on her own desires - deserves the Oscar she won for it. (Nicholson was nominated for an Oscar in his rôle.) William Hickey is another stand-out as the Prizzi family’s head. He was 58 in 1985, but convinces us that he is a frail 80 year old. Robert Loggia and Lee Richardson play his sons, the former being just three years younger than Hickey, while Richardson is a year older. Stanley Tucci has his film debut in a bit part.

The direction is, as one may expect from Huston, very good, though I don’t think it rates the nomination for an Academy Award that it received. I consider the writing to be better. The ending will probably be unexpected to anyone not already apprised of it.

Not for all tastes, Prizzi’s Honor is nevertheless a very good film, a mob comedy which, taking into account the setting, can only be dark, and will prove entertaining for most who view it.

So Long at the Fair (1950)

Directed by Antony Darnborough and Terence Fisher; produced by Betty E Box

Sister and brother Vicky and Johnny Barton (Jean Simmons, David Tomlinson) are on their way home to England from Naples in 1889. Johnny is a seemingly stern but actually indulgent sibling who agrees to stop in Paris so Vicky can see the great exposition being held there. The young girl’s excitement turns to distress and confusion the next morning, however, when no trace of her brother can be found, the staff of their hotel deny his existence, and even his room has disappeared.

Readers may see the similarity in the synopsis of So Long at the Fair to that of Dangerous Crossing, reviewed just last week in this blog. The choice of movies to review was deliberate, so that a comparison or, rather, a contrast may be seen. While Dangerous Crossing was a disappointment, with a disappointing and lack-lustre answer to the mystery, and a typically Hollywood-style climax, So Long at the Fair is more intriguing, with greater logic in both the story and the finale.

One of the elements I admire about So Long at the Fair is the way in which those approached for help by Vicky react. Both the police - embodied in a commissaire (Austin Trevor) - and the British consul (Felix Aylmer) approach the story Vicky tells them impartially, and rationally, as befits their positions. When confronted with the situation, the consul sums up the girl’s problem and the solution sympathetically: he neither believes nor disbelieves her, but points out that unless there is corroborating evidence to support Vicky, it is simply a matter of her word against those who say she had no brother in Paris.

George Hathaway (Dirk Bogarde), the young man who helps Vicky in her dilemma, is smitten with her, but nonetheless takes on the mystery with intelligence, at one point dismissing the notion that the hoteliers murdered Johnny for the sake of the few hundred francs he had. Not everything he and Vicky then do to find the truth works, but it isn’t foolish, either.

Would everybody presented with such a problem view it with such reasoning? Perhaps not, but it is nice to see it in movies, a medium in which stupidity often abounds just for the sake of making the protagonist’s position difficult. Added to this is the interesting resolution to the story which, while it may seem to some to be going a bit far, is nevertheless plausible.

Helping the film tremendously are the sets, costumes and background images. Though the paddle-wheel steamer and the train carriages might be a bit anachronistic for 1889, they and everything else re-create a vivid time and place with more or less accuracy, and it all helps in making an atmosphere that is involving. This, of course, involves the direction, too, which must be commended.

The acting is very good, with a number of veteran and up-and-coming British and European players. Along with those already mentioned, there is Honor Blackman; fellow future Bond girl Zena Marshall; Cathleen Nesbitt, and Andre Morell. Their performances are convincingly right for the time period - without the stereotyped Victorian behaviour - that differentiates an historical drama from a costume drama.

All of these factors make So Long at the Fair a winning film, a good mystery, abetted by characters one usually doesn’t encounter in the genre.

(A couple of notes, first about the title, which seems a bit strange and as if someone is bidding farewell. It comes from a popular folk-song of the day, the lyrics of which complain about a boy named Johnny “[being or taking] so long at the fair”. The reference is obvious.

The story, though original in detail, comes from an ‘urban myth’ that seems to have started about 1897. Like many such legends, the characters change names, nationalities and fates through the various versions. It has been used in novels and short stories, and parts have been utilized in movies prior to So Long at the Fair, but this is the first time, I believe, that the original setting of the myth has been used.)

Dangerous Crossing (1953)

Directed by Joseph M Newman; produced by Robert Bassler

John and Ruth Bowman (Carl Betz, Jeanne Crain) board a trans-Atlantic ocean liner for a honeymoon following their whirlwind romance and marriage. Ruth is especially happy and excited until, that is, John leaves her to deposit some money with the purser, and doesn’t return. Ruth’s bewilderment turns to fear when not only can John not be found, but he is not on the passenger list, and Ruth is listed as travelling alone. The crew, who deny having seen John, begin to see her as either criminal or crazy, and it’s up to the ship’s doctor, Paul Manning (Michael Rennie), to determine the truth.

Dangerous Crossing starts out very promisingly, and keeps a suspenseful tone for much of its run. The story, particularly from Ruth’s point of view, becomes eerie, even nightmarish, which the sea’s fog and the reactions of others accentuate. The problem is similar to a number of other mysteries in which reality seems turned on its head: Dangerous Crossing cannot sustain itself, and the resolution to the affair is almost ordinary, making for a disappointing final third. It doesn’t help that the viewer is let in on the secret too soon.

The story is from the acknowledged master of the locked-room mystery, John Dickson Carr. Dangerous Crossing is not, unfortunately, from among the large collection of such novels and short stories Carr fashioned from sealed chambers or impossible situations. Such problems and their solutions are, in any event, more conversational and static than would be suited for movies, and better left on the printed page. Instead, this film is adapted from a radio-play, which may have more successfully supported the finale.

The acting is very good, but it is in aid of characters and actions that are unsatisfactory. Rennie’s character would have been more interesting if he had been allowed more history. His attempts to diagnose Ruth’s mental state, on the other hand, are haphazard, veering from contacting New York to check on Ruth’s background, to questioning possible enemies of her father (a recently deceased millionaire), to providing pseuod-Freudian analysis. As the liner’s captain (Willis Bouchey) points out, Manning is neither a detective nor a psychiatrist, though he plays, inconsistently, at being both.

The setting - using the same construction and props as the movie Titanic, made the same year - is a good and useful one, creating a world that is large enough for a person to become lost but small enough to be intimate and even claustrophobic. It is also mildly entertaining to see ocean-travel on a big ship as it was in the early 1950s.

The direction is probably the best thing about Dangerous Crossing. As stated above, the first portion, even so far as the third reel, is atmospheric and involving. This is in due partly to Newman’s direction, and his handling of some scenes that seem part paranoia, part dream. But he can do only so much when the story itself demands more transparency as regards to the plot.

It may be unfair, but the film suffers from having been followed - as far as the present audience is concerned - by seventy years of other movies doing better (perhaps because they had movies such as Dangerous Crossing on which to build). Many may have given this movie’s game away by using similar plots. Even so, someone who is a mystery fan, or a reader of detective novels, might not be as confused as Ruth.

Dangerous Crossing is an adequate time-filler but viewers might find that its last third is a bit of a let-down. This, combined with a male lead who is not consistent - or even very good in his chosen quest - and a story that has been done before - and too many times since - sinks the film before it sails too far from shore.

36 Hours (a.k.a. Terror Street) (1953)

Directed by Montgomery Tully; produced by Anthony Hinds

Bill Rogers is a major in the United States Air Force, living with his wife in England. He and his wife, Katie (Elsie Albiin), become estranged, due to his extended assignment back in the U.S. When he returns to London, he has just enough time to confront his spouse before he is knocked unconscious and Katie murdered. Because he had flown to England without leave, Rogers has just 36 hours before his absence is discovered - and that’s the amount of time he has to find his wife’s killer.

Dan Duryea became famous playing villains, sometimes murderous crooks or conniving thieves, other times just untrustworthy jerks. But he was known in Hollywood as the “nicest heel” in the business, because his real life and personality were such contrasts to his on-screen work. He was happily married for 35 years, enjoyed quiet hobbies such as gardening, and was active in the community, especially in relation to his children, attending parent-teacher meetings and working as a scoutmaster.

In 36 Hours, he has one of his few (possibly the only) unmitigated good-guy rôles. Though one reviewer wrote that Duryea didn’t have the face for a hero, he nonetheless acquits himself well. It helps that his character, though a decent man, is beset by frustration and grief, giving him a bit of an edge. Even so, Duryea is credible and sympathetic.

The other actors are good, including Ann Gudrun as Jenny. Under her real name - Gudrun Ure - she achieved some fame in later years as the star of the children’s television series SuperGran. A young Kenneth Griffith plays a highly strung would-be avenger, while John Chandos lends menacing support in an effective way. He would do so as well in The Long Memory, also released in 1953. Harold Lang is also in both 36 Hours and The Long Memory, playing a similar character in each: his sardonic face and languid sleaze make him a watchable accomplice.

The writing is adequate. There are some unexplained items, such as why a U.S. Air Force officer would decide to live permanently in England. Armed forces personnel make their lives where their service sends them, and there would be no guarantee that the Rogers’ home in London would be used for years. And why couldn’t Katie accompany her husband on his assignment in the U.S.? The writer may not have been familiar with London’s topography: Rogers catches a ride into town and the driver tells him that he can take him as far as Hammersmith, after which he can take a cab into London. Hammersmith is an inner borough of London, so the addendum about a ‘cab into London’ isn’t what a native would say. And why did Rogers take a pistol with him to meet Katie? These complaints about the script are surprising, as Steve Fisher was an accomplished writer of short stories and screenplays, the latter including I Wake Up Screaming and Dead Reckoning. He was nominated for an Oscar for writing Destination Tokyo.

The worst of the script is Jenny’s decision to help Rogers. She has no reason to do so, and admits as much. With a little effort, the writer could have added something that made her doubt the fugitive’s guilt. Even if she had connected it to the fact that she runs a mission for those in need of assistance, it would have provided some credibility. It is, however, a cliche that every man on the run has to be abetted by a pretty girl.

While it could have been better, 36 Hours (pointlessly retitled Terror Street for American distribution) is a fair crime drama, rather predictable, but entertaining because of Duryea, Chandos and others’

 performances.