Night of the Prowler is a 1962 B movie which begins extremely well before tailing off as the flaws in the villain's cunning plan become all too evident. The screenplay was written by Paul Erickson, a Welsh actor and writer who became quite a successful scriptwriter, working on Doctor Who, as well as crime series such as No Hiding Place, The Saint, Paul Temple, and The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes. Not a bad CV.
The story opens with the murder of one of the partners in a business which is involved with racing cars. A message is received by the surviving partners - a chap called Langton (Patrick Holt), his wife, from whom he's separated (Colette Wilde) and his friend Paul Conrad (Bill Nagy). The message indicates that the crime has been committed by a chap whom the partners had sent to prison fr theft.
Rather surprisingly, the partners take things in their stride, and an offer of police protection is declined. The official investigation is led by DI Cameron, played by John Horsley, long before he became celebrated as the inept Doc Morrissey in The Rise and Fall of Reginald Perring Langton has a new girlfriend (Mitzi Rogers, later to feature in Coronation Street among other shows), while Conrad and Mrs Langton are developing a relationship.
I enjoyed the early part of the film, but felt that it went downhill as it progressed. The culprit's scheme didn't seem as cunning to me as it did to the scriptwriter, and as the body count rose, the failure of the killer's targets to seek adequate police protection began to seem suicidal. Not a bad film, but it didn't maintain its initial promise.
Showing posts with label Bill Nagy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bill Nagy. Show all posts
Wednesday, 7 February 2018
Crosstrap - 1962 film
One thing about forgotten books.No matter how obscure they are, you can almost always track down a copy sooner or later (being able to afford to buy it is a different matter!) The deposit library system isn't totally infallible, but overall it works extremely well. The position is different with old films and old TV shows. Some of them are lost forever, because the tapes have been wiped or otherwise destroyed. One can only dream, for instance, that a complete run of the wonderful BBC TV series Detective will turn up sooner or later. And there are plenty of other examples of good shows that are still missing.
But sometimes fans get a lucky break. A film thought to have been lost suddenly turns up. Such was the case with Crosstrap, a B movie made in 1962, which, it seems, some fans had been searching for year after year because it marked the debut of director Robert Hartford-Davis (though I must admit his fame had completely passed me by). But a copy turned up a few years ago, and now it's available again and has recently been screened by Talking Pictures.
The film stars Laurence Payne, an interesting character because he was not only a capable actor, most renowned for starring as Sexton Blake in the Sixties, but also the author of a number of crime novels. I was once told by a female contemporary of his that he was a man with great personal charisma. Here he plays a smooth baddie called Duke, who is involved in a jewel robbery. His gang are waiting in a deserted house for a plane to take them to Spain. Why they hadn't arranged to be picked up more quickly is not explained. Even worse, the house isn't deserted. A young couple, played by Gary Cockrell and Jill Adams, have rented it for a romantic first anniversary stay. What's more, a rival gang is staking out the house.
The gang's plot, in other words, is a bit of a mess. The same might perhaps be said of the storyline, based on a novel by the prolific thriller writer John Newton Chance. Bill Nagy and Zena Marshall are in the cast, and in fairness the story moves along at a lively pace. But the sex and violence scenes seem rather tawdry (yet also tame) by modern standards, and it's not a great advert, in my opinion, for Hartford-Davis. The best thing about it is Payne's performance, and the explosive final scene.
But sometimes fans get a lucky break. A film thought to have been lost suddenly turns up. Such was the case with Crosstrap, a B movie made in 1962, which, it seems, some fans had been searching for year after year because it marked the debut of director Robert Hartford-Davis (though I must admit his fame had completely passed me by). But a copy turned up a few years ago, and now it's available again and has recently been screened by Talking Pictures.
The film stars Laurence Payne, an interesting character because he was not only a capable actor, most renowned for starring as Sexton Blake in the Sixties, but also the author of a number of crime novels. I was once told by a female contemporary of his that he was a man with great personal charisma. Here he plays a smooth baddie called Duke, who is involved in a jewel robbery. His gang are waiting in a deserted house for a plane to take them to Spain. Why they hadn't arranged to be picked up more quickly is not explained. Even worse, the house isn't deserted. A young couple, played by Gary Cockrell and Jill Adams, have rented it for a romantic first anniversary stay. What's more, a rival gang is staking out the house.
The gang's plot, in other words, is a bit of a mess. The same might perhaps be said of the storyline, based on a novel by the prolific thriller writer John Newton Chance. Bill Nagy and Zena Marshall are in the cast, and in fairness the story moves along at a lively pace. But the sex and violence scenes seem rather tawdry (yet also tame) by modern standards, and it's not a great advert, in my opinion, for Hartford-Davis. The best thing about it is Payne's performance, and the explosive final scene.
Monday, 1 May 2017
Danger By My Side - 1962 film review
Danger By My Side, which first hit the screens in 1962, proved to be the last film directed by Charles Saunders, whose better-known brother, the theatrical producer Sir Peter, is known to mystery fans as "The Mousetrap Man". This movie is a straightforward but lively thriller which seems slightly dated despite the inclusion of a strip-tease in a night club that seems extremely tame by today's standards.
A prisoner called Hewson, played by Brandon Brady, is released from jail. He was a member of a gang involved in a robbery, and is given work by the gang boss, Venning (Alan Tilvern) who has his finger in a number of pies. An undercover policeman who has penetrated Venning's operation is killed in a hit and run incident, and Lynne, the dead man's sister, played by Maureen Connell, determines to bring his murderer to justice.
Lynne takes a job at a night club run by a manager in Venning's pay. The manager is played by Bill Nagy, whom I remember distantly as pal of the American soldier who married Elsie Tanner in Coronation Street's hey-day in the Sixties. He's one of the few recognisable actors in the cast, along with Anthony Oliver, who plays Inspector Willoughby. Maureen Connell gives a good performance, and it's a shame that her career was not long-lasting. Even less renowned is Kim Darvos, who plays a singer in the night club who meets a grisly end.
This is another of those short and snappy thrillers which strove to capture criminal life in the years immediately before the arrival on the scene of the Beatles, who changed British popular culture in so many ways. It's not a sophisticated movie, but still a competent piece of light entertainment.
A prisoner called Hewson, played by Brandon Brady, is released from jail. He was a member of a gang involved in a robbery, and is given work by the gang boss, Venning (Alan Tilvern) who has his finger in a number of pies. An undercover policeman who has penetrated Venning's operation is killed in a hit and run incident, and Lynne, the dead man's sister, played by Maureen Connell, determines to bring his murderer to justice.
Lynne takes a job at a night club run by a manager in Venning's pay. The manager is played by Bill Nagy, whom I remember distantly as pal of the American soldier who married Elsie Tanner in Coronation Street's hey-day in the Sixties. He's one of the few recognisable actors in the cast, along with Anthony Oliver, who plays Inspector Willoughby. Maureen Connell gives a good performance, and it's a shame that her career was not long-lasting. Even less renowned is Kim Darvos, who plays a singer in the night club who meets a grisly end.
This is another of those short and snappy thrillers which strove to capture criminal life in the years immediately before the arrival on the scene of the Beatles, who changed British popular culture in so many ways. It's not a sophisticated movie, but still a competent piece of light entertainment.
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