Reviews

Don't be fooled by the title or the presence of Boris Karloff, this is a dire Italian-made crime picture.

Any virtue the proceedings may have had (and that would seem to be precious little) is sabotaged by the atrocious dubbing. It is possible to get by dubbing little known Italian players, although the young child does sound as if she's been voiced by a woman whose inhaled too much helium, but to dub Boris Karloff is beyond forgiveness. Especially when it's been done by someone doing a half-hearted impression of the great man.

Plot-wise things are pretty grim too with all the clichés of the genre being firmly present and correct. There's a mysterious criminal mastermind, a smoky nightclub, a femme fatale and the requisite number of obvious double-crosses, lack lustre car chases and terrible dialogue. `It's impossible to get anywhere with you,' the nightclub singer sighs from deep within her cleavage, `you're so cool you're always sure to maintain your equilibrium.'

‘Our hero' is an undercover treasury agent and I can't help thinking that he needs a few pointers in how to do the job. The first thing he does when he arrives on the scene is to visit police headquarters and go out on a launch accompanied by the local chief officers. All in broad daylight! Not surprisingly it doesn't take long for the local crooks to blow his cover, although they do fail to recognise him later on when he poses as a member of a rival syndicate from Genoa. Perhaps it was his brilliant disguise of taking off his suit!

It's anybody's guess why Boris agreed to appear in this but perhaps roles were a little thin on the ground at this point in his career. On the other hand, it may simply have been that he fancied a free Italian holiday, which would also explain his presence in ‘Sabaka' (1954), a similarly eccentric choice from around this time. That one was filmed entirely on location in India. Nice work if you can get it.

Finally special mention must be reserved for `International Stars Jeanette and Bob' who present the worst nightclub dance act ever committed to celluloid. Sometimes seeing is believing.

It took four years for this to get a release in the U.S. I wonder why?

The only reason that most people will track down this minor Western is the presence of Humphrey Bogart in one of his earliest roles.

The Old West was never really looked right on Bogie and this performance, his first with Stetson and Six-gun, could be seen just as a dry run for his appearance as Whip McCord in the James Cagney vehicle 'The Oklahoma Kid'. In fact it was the first time Bogart ever appeared on the wrong side of the law and his depiction of a violent, shiftless man with no moral centre shows that he had this kind of role down pat five years before his breakthrough in 'The Petrified Forest'. He even manages to engage a little audience sympathy when constantly rejected by the virtuous heroine, a fact that also provides a little character motivation, unusual in a picture of this type. It almost goes without saying that he is really the only reason to watch.

Elsewhere George O'Brien tries hard to be handsome and charming in the lead role but is merely stiff and wooden, whilst Sally Eilers does a little better as the heroine. The story holds few surprises, and very little in the way of action or thrills, but the resolution is more original than expected. Technically, it's a little basic but some location work and the use of a few crane shots help a little.

If it weren't for Bogart this picture would probably be long forgotten and it really won't hold much appeal outside of his loyal fanbase.

One of the greatest strengths of filmmaker John Huston was that he knew great source material when he read it and, just as importantly, not to change anything for the sake of change alone. This is a virtue also shared by the makers of ‘Cairo' – a very faithful adaptation of W. R. Burnett's wonderful novel ‘The Asphalt Jungle'. The only problem, of course, is that Huston got there thirteen years earlier.

The switch of locale from the brooding, empty streets of downtown America to the teeming bazaars and markets of Egypt's capital works surprisingly well but in every other department the film is vastly inferior to the Huston version. There is a slight switch of emphasis from the role of the hired gun (Richard Johnson instead of Sterling Hayden) to the criminal mastermind (played with typical cool detachment by George Sanders) and the object of the robbery this time is nothing less than Cleopatra's jewels in the Cairo Museum! Beyond that, however, it's almost a scene for scene remake of the earlier film.

Sanders and Johnson do surprisingly well, even though Johnson is hopelessly miscast as an Arab. The supporting cast is poor at best. ‘Cairo' compares favourably against the other two versions of the tale, ‘Cool Breeze' (1972) & ‘The Badlanders' (1958) – a western with Alan Ladd! – but that's not really saying too much.

Stick with the Huston version or, better still, find a copy of the novel – it's one of the outstanding works of 20th Century American literature.

On the one hand this dull, uneven mini-series is packaged like some kind of thriller. However, the only action sequence in over three hours is somewhat less than thrilling and feels as if it were added merely for purposes of the trailer.

I would suspect that the book, which I've not read, is more concerned with questions of faith, both religious and personal, but unsurprisingly this mainstream adaptation skates over such thorny issues.

What we get instead is David Janssen travelling the world like a theological Philip Marlowe, meeting various experts who tell us little or nothing regarding the authenticity of the 'Word.' The extracts of this new gospel that we do hear are so mundane and under-whelming that the resultant palaver has no credibility whatsoever.

The conclusion, when it finally arrives, is hopelessly contrived and nonsensical with the motivations of key characters left unclear. Furthermore, the idea that an ageing Janssen is some kind of 'babe magnet' is just impossible to swallow. As is the rest of this dull and pointless mess.

Just before he died Boris Karloff shot back to back footage for four poverty row horror flicks. Additional scenes were later shot in Mexico - with mostly different actors! - to bring each of them up to feature length.

This is the first and most coherent of this unfortunate quartet of pictures. It's also the dullest. Boris is a plantation owner on an island threatened by a curious voodoo cult that throws in cannibalism and snake worship with the usual business plan of raising of the dead to work in the fields.

The story is bereft of any new ideas and the phallic imagery is rather puerile. Still, we do get some lively snake dancing and the matching of the two sets of footage is not that bad, although Karloff's foreman appears in one scene with a beard and the next scene without!

If only the great man had stopped here!

Universal seem to have thrown a lot of cash at these sub 'Gone with the Wind' shenanigans but really should have paid more attention to the script. Although a potentially interesting idea - a small valley tries to stay neutral during the US Civil War - the movie concentrates almost exclusively on a vapid central romance lifted almost wholesale from that earlier Selznick classic.

Van Hefflin tries hard to inject the kind of dangerous humour that Clark Gable brought to Rhett Butler but Susan Hayward is hopelessly miscast as the young, flighty Southern belle. An excellent actress in the right circumstances, here she looks far too sensible for the role and resorts to a permanent wide-eyed stare to convey youth and innocence. She merely looks like a startled rabbit.

Elsewhere, what should have been the pivotal role of the valley's patriarch is simply not given enough screentime, thus reducing Ward Bond to the occasional ineffectual splutter and the climax to an empty, mechanical spectacle devoid of emotional resonance. Boris Karloff brings a touch of class to the role of the friendly native American retainer but Julie London is wasted in a thankless role.

Overall, it's the kind of picture that the studio must have presumed would make itself and this lack of commitment results in a significant lack of quality.

What must have started life as a pretty ordinary crime picture is dressed up for the box office with some of the popular flourishes of the day such as electronic gadgets and a mysterious criminal mastermind.

Karloff gives excellent value as villain's chief henchman and thankfully gets plenty of screen time.

Although director and cast were all well experienced in pictures, the performances tend to be on the dull side, particularly Jack Holt in the lead. The pace of individual scenes is a little slow too, almost as if everyone concerned were making a conscious effort to hold back from the excesses of the silent days.

No classic, but you could do worse.

This must have seemed old fashioned even when it was made. The story had to be a holdover from the silent days.

Poor, virtuous peasant Elissa Landi is persecuted by leering aristocrat Lionel Barrymore in pre-revolutionary Russia. Laurence Olivier, in his only his second U.S. movie, is the Western journalist who offers Landi his love and a chance at escape. Boris Karloff plays a drunken orderly.

Whereas Olivier attempts to bring a light touch to his thankless role, neither Landi nor Barrymore seem to know the meaning of the word 'restraint.'. This has an interesting consequence. Whereas Landi is insufferably hysterical, Barrymore provides the best reason to watch; a portrait of sheer, camp villainy that just keeps getting better and better as the film goes on.

Hard to take seriously. Watch it for Barrymore alone.

Just occasionally, back in the golden age of Hollywood, studios got so desperate that they tried to squeeze a couple of totally different storylines into one movie. My favourite example is ‘They Met In Bombay' with Clark Gable and Peter Lorre. ‘His Brother's Wife' never attains those heights of lunacy but it tries pretty hard !!

Movie no.1: Stanwyck is the girl from the wrong side of the tracks who falls for a wealthy playboy (Robert Taylor) with large gambling debts. The romance is broken up by his snobby brother but Stanwyck assumes the debts, going to work as ‘hostess' for a slimy club owner. Oh, yes and she also marries the brother (but that's not really important !)

Movie no.2: Stanwyck and the wealthy playboy (also a top research scientist !!) go deep into the South American jungle to cure a plague which is decimating the local villagers. The situation is hopeless, the playboy (sorry, top scientist) is losing his nerve and there's only one thing left for the self-sacrificing Stanwyck to do!

If this all sounds ridiculous, that's because it is.

Stanwyck tries a little too hard in this one, battling bravely against the lifeless script, dialogue and supporting cast. Director W S Van Dyke was happier with the light comedy of the ‘Thin Man' movies than this kind of absurd melodrama.

Luckily for Stanwyck fame and fortune beckoned only a year later with ‘Stella Dallas.'

This picture does have a certain curiosity value but really it's for fans only.

At first glance a rather ordinary thriller with a disillusioned cop (Barry Sullivan - pretty good) chasing an escaped con (Vittorio Gassman) deep into the swamps of Louisiana. However, delve a little deeper and you find a dark and cynical meditation on fear, obsession and personal honour.

Unlike ‘The Fugitive' this con is guilty but his crime, although serious, barely gets a mention. The script instead concentrates on the two protagonists and their similarities. Although on different sides of the law, both believe in family and personal honour and cannot compromise their beliefs. Both suffer as a result.

The justice system is portrayed as idle(a Prison Warden only interested in golf), bigoted (a Southern Sheriff who pre-dates ‘In the Heat of the Night') or just plain nasty (William Conrad scoring well as the cop's partner.)

On the down side, the female roles are seriously underwritten (virtuous wife & bayou trash hellcat) and the resolution is implausibly upbeat.

Overall, however, a good ‘B' thriller of its' day, surprisingly violent in places. Director Joseph H Lewis made better movies (‘Gun Crazy', ‘The Big Combo') but this one still begs the question; ‘How in hell did someone so talented end up making episodes of ‘Rifleman'& 'The Big Valley'?!'

Was that it? After all the hype and fanfare what we get is a infantile story, dreadful dialogue and bits and pieces ripped off from the previous Star Wars movies! Oh, and the endless marketing opportunities of course, mustn't forget those. It saddens me that it seems to be enough just to chuck endless CGI at an audience and lots of them will just lap it up. Shame on you! Demand character, story, acting, hell maybe even an emotional response. My favourite character was Jar Jar Binks - at least you couldn't understand what he was saying!

Edward G Robinson dismissed this one with a passing comment in his autobiography and it's not hard to see why. He exudes menace in the classic 'Little Caesar' manner and his interplay with the underrated Paul Stewart does have a touch of real quality. However, Cinemascope is not a process designed for urban thrillers and the wide open spaces rob the film of any sense of tension or claustrophobia. The greatest weakness, however, lies in Ladd's robotic performance. His boredom is evident throughout and the lacklustre supporting cast do little to help. In the end Robinson is left out on his own, gat in hand, the true professional giving it all he's got.