The Last Crooked Mile

ABSURDITY: The getaway car used in a robbery, in which all three occupants died, vital evidence in an ongoing police investigation publicly on show at a fairground. Surely not!

MEDIOCRITY: The two motorcycle cops involved in the chase are shown, in spots clearly astride stationary machines, whilst the high speed scenery takes all the risks. The wonky, wobbly, wooden handrail at the roller coaster ride was presumably kept in storage, prior to being sold to the makers of Crossroads in the 1960's. Crooks, 'Wires' MacGuire (Sheldon Leonard) and his lame-brained sidekick hardly generate the 'oooh...I'm scared' factor, when they appear. Ann Savage is by far the movie's greatest asset, yet her character is a pale shadow of the volatile, destructive, savage by name, savage by nature femme fatale, who turned hapless Tom Neal's life upside down, inside out and back to front in the previous year's classic, 'Detour.' And as for her song.....that's one minute and 42 seconds of my life I'll never have back!

LIABILITY: Tom Dwyer (Don Barry's) sub-Cagney, fast talking, wise-cracking, whip-smart private dick comes across as forced and irritating, rather than sharp and amusing. To add insult to injury, most directors found the bloke very difficult to work with.

Occasionally, the rushed, slap-dash approach can produce a masterpiece. (Check out Neil Young's Tonight's the Night). This is not one of those occasions. Had this been a school report, phrases like 'could have done better' and 'too easily satisfied' would spring to mind.

Remarkably, this hotch-potch of half baked ideas and one dimensional characters, despite its legion of shortcomings, turns out to be passingly watchable, mildly entertaining and arcanely memorable. Frequently and against all the odds, 'Crooked Mile' manages to punch above its weight. It remains a pretty rough around the edges production from Poverty Row, Republic Pictures. Indeed, there is nothing polished about this misfiring oddity apart from John Dehner's finger nails.

A bank robbery of $300,000 is a success, but all three robbers are killed in a car crash. And no one can find the money.

Private eye Tom Dwyer (Donald Barry, Republic's answer to Jimmy Cagney) inserts himself into the investigation mainly because the reward is 10% of the money.

The first order of business is to find the car, which is now an exhibit at an amusement park. Dwyer learns there has been some interest in purchasing the car. It seems evident that they think the money is somewhere, maybe not in the car, but as part of the car.

Eventually he meets a nightclub singer, played by Ann Savage. He asks for her help. Meanwhile, bodies keep showing up.

There were some interesting camera shots in this film, and the roller coaster scene was amazing, even though it's an obvious process shot. The dialogue is fast and somewhat suggestive in parts. There is some nice editing as well.

Barry's acting is very pleasant; I understand he was impossible to work with. It's too bad. Besides Savage, look for Sheldon Leonard, Irving Bacon, and Tom Dugan in smaller roles. Adele Mara is good as the woman constantly being stood up by Dwyer. Savage uplifts the entire film - great presence.

A gang steals $300,000 from a bank, but all die in the robbery and pursuit. The money has disappeared. The insurance company offers a 10% reward for the total, and in waltzes cocky PI Don Barry in a grey outfit and hand-painted tie, leaving girl friend Adele Mara dancing by herself while he pursues night club singer Ann Savage and the money.

Republic was interested in expanding Barry beyond his fans from the Red Ryder movies, and he slips easily into this movie, which has some nice film noir touches -- notice the shadows thrown off by a set of Venetian blinds early on. Despite these visuals, and a sequence set in a fun fair at night, it's not in the least noirish. Barry is too cavalier, and there's a hint of 1930s screwball in Miss Mara's role. All in all, an entertaining little film, with a couple of nice twists, and Sheldon Leonard as a hood called 'Wires' McGuire.

Ann Savage will forever be known as the vulturous woman in Ulmer's masterpiece DETOUR. Alas, many other films in her career have not had comparable longevity. This little programmer is one of the many forgotten little baubles that used to dot TV land back in the days before all those rotten Infomercials took over late night viewing. Despite the superb cast of B movie stalwarts, this generic little programmer is nonetheless noteworthy for trying to cram a lot of plot in the confines of an hour, so much so that it appears incoherent. It tries to do everything and ends up not doing much of anything. It's diverting enough because of the haywire plot; you never know where this is going. But see it for Ann Savage.

This nifty, fast-paced B mystery, based on a radio play (as were many superior second features of the time) is a nice surprise from Republic Studios. It features original situations and plenty of fancy patter, some of it slightly risqué for the time (obviously, the production code mavens were more diligent in scrutinizing the A product than these minor programmers). Lightweight leading man Don "Red" Barry, with the wavy hair and tenor voice, gives as good as he takes (he also sports one of the most outrageous wide ties in memory), and B movie icon Ann Savage has a sizable role as a slinky cabaret singer who may know more than she lets on. Connoisseurs will appreciate the parade of offbeat character turns by vets like Irving Bacon, Sheldon Leonard, and especially Tom Dugan in a little deadpan bit as a sarcastic souvenir salesman. The photography is suitably shadowy, the carnival background sleazy, and there are some clever editing tricks. Obscure director Phil Ford, who was John Ford's nephew (and Francis Ford's son), certainly takes advantage of his studio's affinity for serials, emphasising reckless car chases and a wild ride aboard a roller-coaster. (By the way, reliable historian Tom Weaver claims that Phil was often more interesting than both John and Francis!) If you like this one, try the similar No Hands on the Clock from Paramount's splendid B-movie mill.