Barely known absurdist film noir, loaded with tip-top talent cosseting former Mack Sennett silent comedy vet Arthur Ripley, an occasional director with nothing else like this on his C.V. Adapted by Philip Yordan from a Cornell Woolrich story, it runs a normal course in its first half as down-on-his luck army vet Robert Cummings returns a lost wallet (and its cash) to tough guy Steve Cochran, earning a job as chauffeur to this rising thug, wing-man Peter Lorre and abused wife Michèle Morgan. For lady & driver, love is inevitable, along with one-way tickets to Havana. But their single cabin cruise comes up on Cochran’s radar and escape may prove impossible. And here’s where the story throws a curve, hitting the reset button on about half of the storyline. It’s throws you at first, but once you catch the drift, plays out nicely. Or does until a cop-out climax that settles all scores and comes loaded with toy trains and risible model work. As the army vet, Robert Cummings already shows the supercilious quality that kept him from fully connecting on screen, but Cochran’s mob guy has a real sense of threat (slapping dames, murdering rivals) while Morgan gets an uncredited second role as a brunette who helps Cummings escape a pair of assassins. (Note her prominence on this French poster.)
Peter Lorre purrs like a kitty-cat and Jack Holt shows up post-‘reveal’ to explain things psychologically. Best is cinematography great Franz Planer, undoubtedly responsible for Ripley’s occasional savvy calling the shots. The big set piece in a Cuban nightclub might be an audition for Planer’s next two jobs with Max Ophüls. (If only composer Michel Michlet didn’t push comic buttons at wrong moments. Miklós Rósza the man needed.) Exiled producer Seymour Nebenzal, a lost-in-America UFA type who collaborated with Robert Siodmak, Fritz Lang, Julien Duvivier, Douglas Sirk & Joseph Losey, promoted this one into being during his frustrating stop-and-start Hollywood period. And while he can’t quite make the story add up, this all-of-a-piece bizarrerie is still something to savor.
SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: If only Nebenzal had reunited with Edgar G. Ulmer, a fellow UFA exile-in-America, they'd collaborated in Berlin on PEOPLE ON SUNDAY/’30. He’d have been perfect for this.
ATTENTION MUST BE PAID: Look for the restored print out of UCLA.
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