Last night we had John Ireland again, a little more successfully this time, in "Return of a Stranger"(1961). Ireland plays "Ray Reed", a graphic artist at a London advertising firm. His much younger wife "Pam" (Susan Stephen) is a homemaker who looks after their little boy, "Tommy" (Timothy Beaton). All seems well; Ray is up for a promotion at work, but there's been a man lurking about their house, a decrepit chap in a worn overcoat and baggy trousers. We see him on the sidewalk, shown from behind to maintain the mystery, and to emphasize his creepy, bad comb-over.
When Pam Reed asks her neighbor and the mailman if they've noticed such a man, both say no. Ray gets home and overhears her talking about it on the phone, but she then says she doesn't want to discuss it with him. When he presses, she coughs up: "You know that I was raised in an orphanage." "Yes, but I thought you understood that I love you the way you are now and I accept your past." "I do, but there's a part I never told you." She goes on to say that when she was fourteen, and still at the orphanage, one of staff members raped her. Because it's 1961, the word "rape" isn't used. Instead, she says "he made love to me", but the assault is briefly depicted and it's hardy making love. Now, she suspects it's the same guy who's stalking her, 17 years later. The Reeds' phone rings that night, but the caller is silent. Whoever it is calls back the next day when Ray is at work. Pam calls him there, frantic. He rushes home to call the police, but the inspector "Sgt. Meecham" (Ian Fleming, not the James Bond one) is very officious. He's the dictionary definition of by the book. "I have no corroborating evidence that your wife ever got such a phone call," he tells Ray, who takes offense, because Meecham's insinuating that Pam's got the vapors. "The little woman" and all that.....
On his own, Ray tracks down the orphanage rapist, whose name is "Homer Trent" (Cyril Shaps). He insists the cops interview him and they do, but Trent denies knowing anyone named Pamela Reed. He smirks at Inspector Meecham. Most cops would have this guy over a barrel, but Meecham turns it around to again suggest that the Reeds have the wrong man, and furthermore, maybe Pam is imagining it.
But then, the ante is upped. Their son Tommy is reported missing from school, inducing terror in Pam, but by the time Ray gets home, the headmaster has delivered the boy, who wasn't missing after all. Meecham doesn't believe it was Homer Trent who made the fake report, and by now, the gist is that he doesn't believe anything Pam says, because she's a former orphan waif, one step above a street urchin. The final straw is when a florist delivers a funeral wreath to the Reeds' flat, followed by a visit from a mortuary director. "My condolences on the death of your husband," he tells Pam. "But he isn't dead! You get out of our house!"
Now, it looks like the Reeds have not just a stalker but a complete psycho on their hands. We never see the creep except from behind (with that dreadful comb-over), but if we've been paying attention to our Casting Director Theorum, there's a talented caricature actor in the cast who has yet to make a facial appearance. From that consideration, we gather that the plot isn't a whodunit, but a straight-up thriller: who will win the battle of wits? Will the ante-upping psycho get the better of Ray, Pam and little Tommy? Inspector Meecham is less than no help, he's actually a detriment, threatening Ray with arrest if he even makes a comment about "getting" Homer Trent on his own. Ray has lost his promotion over this mess, and the guy who was given the job then dies in an elevator crash. The cable was cut, which makes it look like Ray was jealous and killed him. Inspector Meecham believes it for five movie minutes.
The psycho apparently knows how and has the wherewithal to cut elevator cables and send the man careening to his death.
Of course, he finally returns to their flat again for a Final Showdown, which has been building the entire time. The cops don't have a stake because Inspector Meecham doesn't believe the Reeds, so it's a Straw Dogs deal, sort of. And the actor portraying the psycho does a Jason at the end (comes back from the dead). He lifts the movie above average, with one caveat: what's with the jaunty jazz score? It completely undercuts the tension in what should be scary scenes. Breezy jazz, with xylophone and drums which would better befit an early '60s American sitcom. Other than that, Two Bigs and a solid recommendation. The picture is razor sharp. ////
The previous night's film was "Final Appointment"(1954), a murder mystery featuring the formula of reporter vs. inspector that we've seen a lot recently. Likable John Bentley stars as "Mike Billings" of the Evening Star, always out for a scoop and relying on his "little bird," a secret source who alerts him to developing stories. This time, he goes to the office of an attorney named "Hartnell" (Hubert Gregg), fibs his way past the secretary, then asks Hartnell about "some threatening letters you've been receiving." "How do you know about those?" "It's my business to know things. I'm a reporter." "Not even the police know about those letters! Get out of my office!"
All that does is intrigue Billings further. Back at the Star, he asks his editor for permission to dig deeper into the case. Of course, we've gotta have the High Blood Pressure Editor and the Harried Press Foreman, tearing their hair out over deadlines, etc. We've also just met "Jenny" (no last name), played by the delightfully expressive Ellen Sommerfield, whose advice column is called "Ask Aunt Agatha". She hates the inanity of it, really wants to join Billings on the crime beat, and takes it upon herself to do so when her editor all but fires her for insubordination. Besides providing light comic relief and romantic foilage, Jenny serves as an assistant sleuth to Billings when he discovers a common thread linking some murders connected to lawyer Hartnell, who was a JAG officer during the war before going into private practice.
Several other attorneys from that JAG branch have been murdered, all on the same day, July 10th, in consecutive years. Billings is the first person to notice this, and now he's being tailed by "Inspector Corcoran" (Liam Redmond), who wonders why he's bothering Mr. Hartnell. "How did you know about those letters when even the police didn't know?" This sets up the cooperation/rivalry between the two, press and police, which serves as the basis for this script formula. The July 10th clue is important, suggesting a serial killer is at work. The date apparently means something to him.
They separately question a man named "Vickery", who - because he's played by Sam Kydd - is, as always, a cheap-suited, bow-tied small-time Cockney thief. That was Sam Kydd's stereotype, and he's the guy you want for that role. Inspector Corcoran is willing to overlook Kydd's apartment full of stolen goods, if he will tell what he knows about the WW2 JAG trial. Who would have it in for Mr. Hartnell, who at the time was the presiding JAG captain? "Well", says Kydd, "there was five of us court-martialed" (though it's never explained for what). "I got two years. George Martin got the worst of it, Hartnell gave him five."
Apparently, he did better in the early 1960s, in the music business.
Once George Martin is identified, reporter Billings and Inspector Corcoran believe they have their killer. But there's only one problem: when they go looking for Martin, it turns out he's been dead for many years. His brother's even got the death certificate. So how did he produce The Beatles? Yeah, riddle me that one, Batman. Amidst all of this, which is plodding but forward moving (not that creative but tight), Jenny is a major character, using her fluctuating facial muscles to render any emotional nuance. Her face is constantly moving, she's great, and mostly she's cheesed off about Mike Billings's attention to Hartnell's tall, dark secretary with the perfect hairdo. The Jenny character is almost half the movie. It turns out that George Martin once ran a tobacconist shop with his brother before they had a fight and he died years later in a flophouse. Two Big Thumbs Up for "Final Appointment". Though plodding, and not clever, it's still quite good for the actors and their characters. The picture is razor sharp. ////
And that's all for this evening. My blogging music was "Fish Out of Water", the excellent 1975 solo album from Chris Squire. My late night is Handel's Esther Oratorio. I hope you had a nice weekend, and I send you Tons of Love, as always. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo :):)
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