Last night belonged to John Bentley again, we're on a major John Bentley kick, and in "The Way Out"(1955), he's once again a cop, relentlessly chasing down "Greg Carradine" (Gene Nelson), who, as the movie opens, runs into his London flat to inform his wife that he's just killed a man in a bar fight. His brother-in-law "John Moffat" (Michael Goodliffe) is also present. He doesn't like Carradine, an alcoholic gambler, but because his sister "Terry" (Mona Freeman) is Greg's devoted wife, he agrees to go along with their alibi, which is used when "Inspector Seagrave" (Bentley) visits the next day, after interviewing barman "George" (Arthur Lovegrove) about the participants in the fight.
"He was here all night," Terry says of her husband, and her brother John agrees. "He came home straight from work, we had supper and watched the telly." But you don't lie to John Bentley. He'll just stand there and let you talk, nodding and occasionally interrupting to say, "uh huh, and then?" And when you finish your tale, he'll lower the boom: "We already know your husband was at the bar at the time of the fight." You do not want Bentley on your tail, because he's not just a 24/7 Inspector, he's a 60/60. Sixty seconds to the minute, to the hour. He makes Columbo look like a slacker.
The whole movie is a chase-down of Greg Carradine. There's never any question of his guilt, no mystery involved, it's just "where is he?" Actor Nelson plays it frantic: "Terry! John! You've gotta get me out of here!" Marital loyalty is a theme; Terry does what has to be done, for no other reason than "I'm his wife". Her brother is an author with a newly bestselling book, the epigram of which will provide an important clue when traced back to the publisher. This leads Inspector Seagrave to Carradine's hideout, and when that's discovered, he needs to leave the country.
Wife Terry goes back to the bar on Carradine's instructions, to talk to barman George, who knows a man who can arrange such a departure. It costs the Carradines 700 lbs (paid for by John), and it leads to the best part of the movie, a 20 minute chase after the trio as they engage in a series of vehicle switches, from delivery trucks to postal vans to flatbeds, changing panel signs from florists to seed sellers. John Bentley's on their tail the whole time, triangulating their location, tapping phones at garages.
Gene Nelson was famous as a dancer in Hollywood musicals. He's a little over the top as a Hard Guy drunken murderer, but Mona Freeman is very good as Terry, as is Michael Goodliffe as her author/brother. However, as with every John Bentley flick, it's his movie. You'd rather have LAPD after you than this guy. Two Big Thumbs Up, mostly for the chase and the great London photography, which takes you all over the joint. I think we've seen more movies directed by Montgomery Tully than by anyone except Sam Newfield. The picture is razor sharp. ////
The previous night's film was "The Monkey's Paw" (1948), an adaptation by the Butcher Brothers set in Cornwall, home of Cornish Game Hens. This is the kind of thing that, if I'd seen it on Sunday afternoon TV when I was seven or eight, it would've scared the bejabbers out of me. It's got that rural English feel, with superstitious locals, personified by the character of "Kelly" (Michael Martin Harvey), a fanciful, toothless, poacher and burglar, who tells the tale of the monkey's paw to the Trelawne family, whose patriarch (Milton Rosmer) has just obtained it in exchange for one of his wife's paintings.
As the movie opens, a curio trader, a dealer in obscure collectibles, sees the paw in a pawn shop run by "Mr. Grimshaw" (Hay Petrie), who has a bust of Genghis Khan he talks to. Grimshaw doesn't wanna sell the paw, but agrees when the trader presses. "Alright, it's yours. I wish you no bad luck," he says, after explaining that the paw comes from India and is cursed.
From there, the paw winds up in the possession of Mr. Trelawne, a shopkeeper who also deals in curios and art sold by his wife (Megs Jenkins). Trelawne is a gambler. "Gamblin's a superstition, y'know," says his son "Tom" (Eric Micklewood), because you're relying on fate." Mr. Trelawne owes 200 lbs from betting on the ponies and his bookie wants to collect. Meanwhile, son Tom has dreams of becoming a motorcycle racer. He even has a bike picked out, a Norton named "Alice". Tom hopes to enter a race to win the 200 lbs his Dad owes. In the middle of all this is Kelly, the wee, effete burglar, explaining what happened to the last family that had the paw. He knew because he burgled them. "The husband shot the wife fer dallyin' wit anuther man." Kelly is superstitious. The tone is as "country English" as possible, with dreamers dreamin' big dreams, wives saying, "Aw, begosh and begorrah with ya! Eat yer supper now, a-fore it gets to clabberin' up."
Young Tom really wants to buy Alice the motorbike, and he finally gets his chance when a promoter sees his racing talent and sponsors him in a race with big prize money. His pretty girlfriend hates his motorcycle fetish (and who knew they had motocross in 1948?), but he enters the race anyway, and this is where the curse of the monkey's paw horror kicks in. Stephen King borrowed the premise for "Pet Sematary". Man, this is the kind of thing that just gives you the big-time willies. Superstitious English Horror. Me and the late, great Mike Bellamy watched "Burn Witch Burn" one night during a sleepover when I was eleven and he was twelve. We still talked about how scary it was over forty-five years later. On another sleepover, we watched "Blood on Satan's Claw". English, rural, superstitious horror, watched in the middle of the night on a small black-and-white TV when you're 11 or 12 will scar you for life. I can't tell you what happens in "The Monkey's Paw", but the mixture of The Godawful with the strange, fey performance of Michael Martin Harvey as Kelly, the blarney-spewing burglar and ever-optimistic ne'er do well, is as spooky as it gets. Two Big Thumbs Up, with a terrifying finale. The picture is slightly soft. ////
And that's all I've got for this evening. My blogging music was "Rising" by Rainbow. Ritchie's playing and tone on that record are both outstanding. Check out his solo on "A Light in the Black." My late night is Handel's "Jeptha" Oratorio. I hope your week is going well, and I send you Tons of Love, as always.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo :):)
No comments:
Post a Comment