Hugo Haas, born in Czechoslovakia but driven out of his country by Hitler, immigrated to the United States. He is a curious figure in the history of independent American film. Rather like his contemporary Sam Fuller, he produced, wrote, and directed any number of low-budget films, often released under the banner of a major studio, but apparently with little studio interference. Unlike other auteurs, he was completely in charge of the product; in Hass' case, the standard "B" picture thriller on the lower half of the double feature. Haas usually played the male role in his films: that of a bewildered middle-aged and slightly overweight European, the unwilling victim of a sleek sexy but thoroughly cold-blooded American woman, living by her wits, out to get some poor sucker's money in any way possible. Cleo Moore or Beverly Michaels usually played the archetypical blonde; neither by Hollywood standards conventional beauties, more like George Grocz caricatures of femme fatales. There is no doubt that Haas was a serious filmmaker, very ambitious despite his limited budgets; one, however, that neither the newspaper critics in the United States nor, more surprisingly, the Cahier du Cinema gang chose to embrace. This film is probably his best, because it offers in addition to a conventional blackmail plot a backstage look at the real Poverty Row Hollywood with its thrown together sets, offices, cutting-rooms and out of work actors. In the story Hass is an émigré director, married to the daughter of the head of a big studio, played here perfectly by Jack Macy, who for once actually looks and sounds like a typical mogul of the time. No Walter Pidgeon he. There are some unusual exchanges between Haas and Macy about what makes for a commercial film. The dialogue comes from the heart. Haas's. Well worth watching.
