Out of RKO Radio Pictures, The Hitch-Hiker is directed by Ida Lupino and jointly adapted to the screen by Lupino, Collier Young and Daniel Mainwaring. It stars Edmond O'Brien, Frank Lovejoy & William Talman. Nicholas Musuraca photographs the film and Leith Stevens scores the music.
"This is the true story of a man and a gun and a car. The gun belonged to the man. The car might have been yours, or that young couple across the aisle. What you will see in the next seventy minutes could have happened to you. For the facts are actual".
The above opening salvo from the film is not without merit, tho due to the Hays Office requirements Lupino had to tone down her initial plans for the film. The story is based on the true story of murderer Billy Cook, who in 1950 posed as a hitch-hiker and murdered a family of five and a travelling salesman. The film picks up with the aftermath of that, where Cook then kidnapped two friends out hunting and forced them at gunpoint to drive him across the border into Mexico. Lupino researched her subject well, even interviewing the principals in the kidnapping.
Something of a cult favourite these days, The Hitch-Hiker is a brisk, lean and tight film showing how to get the maximum amount of suspense out of the simplest of set-ups. Practically a three character piece, the film thrives on claustrophobia and an impending sense of dread. Even when the characters come out of the confines of the car, we still feel stifled during the sequences that feature the men out in the desert. There's a sense of desolation in the landscape that marries up with the emotional state of our two kidnapped men. It's fine work by Lupino, who never lets the mood slip. She in turn is aided considerably by her writers and Musuraca's photography. The former cleverly only lets the kidnapped men's personalities unfold once they are seized by Talman's psychopath, the latter brings film noir agoraphobia to the Alabama Hills, Lone Pine, location: A place that was often shown to be gorgeous in many a fine Western in the 50s.
All three lead actors do good work under Lupino's direction, with Talman particularly menacing, all lazy eye and snarly grins. While Stevens' music sits nicely with the tone of the story. Credit Lupino, too, for not letting her male driven movie contain any machismo posturing, or heaven forbid, testosterone fuelled bravado. Where the film does fall down is with its rather anti-climatic finale. For although the real life finale involving Billy Cook was genuinely mundane, the film's ending is also a bit of a damp squib. It's one of those cases where some poetic licence wouldn't have gone amiss. Still, it's far from a deal breaker, the film remains a taut and moodily enjoyable experience. 7.5/10
