Dem Satan singt man keine Lieder

John Maxwell is appropriately cast as 'Bud'. A salt of the earth cop, who has never fired his gun throughout a long impeccable career. Off duty, he lives a quiet, exemplary life with wife Katherine Warren. If he ever heard The Rolling Stones' 'Rocks Off, ' he would have assumed it was a song about geology. Collecting ancient rocks from ghost towns is his spare time passion. In stark contrast, his partner Van Heflin is an opportunist womanizer. The victim of too many bad breaks and a life-long member of 'The World Owes me a Favour Club'.

Answering a call about a prowler at the home of Evelyn Keyes, Maxwell offers practical advice about security, whilst Heflin practically moves in. Returning initially to check on Keyes' safety, an unusual - perhaps unique affair ensues. Keyes much older husband is always present; on air, performing his schmaltzy, cheesy, cornball radio show. Though it provides the ideal set up for their deceit, Heflin finally turns off the set, refusing to allow rubbish radio to ruin their racy romance.

When the dinosaur dee-jay grows suspicious, Heflin calls for a cooling off period. He retires to his spartan apartment, where, bearing an uncanny resemblance to The Royle Family's Craig Cash, he stares blankly into space. Does his vacant, vapid facial expression disguise profound perceptions permeating his punctilious brain....or is he merely musing over a hot dog which he ate in 1946? At this point Keyes bursts in, unlocking his libido and reigniting the relationship. If only her dull, ageing husband, hardly the future of rock'n'roll, the cause of her unhappiness and the barrier to Heflin's future were out of the way.

In the kind of plot where one lie leads to another, then another, followed by a porky of gargantuan proportions, the desperate couple head for Calico, one of Maxwell's ghost towns, uninhabited for many years. Though, apparently Poco knew a lady from there! Heflin has become so entrenched in his own web of corruption and crime that life is like attempting to swim through an ocean of treacle, whilst carrying Cyril Smith.

Not a classic, but a rarely seen noir, The Prowler deserves further investigation. Hope I've sold it to yez.

As the story unfolds we see the true personalities of the main charcters come clearly through the film screen. There is the beautiful wife Susan Gilvray (Evelyn Keyes) who married a successful but older radio host who provides for his wife Susan but keeps her more as another prized possession under lock and key, than as his loving wife. When a prowler is spotted outside Susan's window she calls the police and two (2) policeman show up one of whom is a rugged looking unmarried and very single policeman named Webb Garwood (Van Heflin).

Officer Webb Garwood is immediately attracted to the pretty and helpless Susan, who spends her evenings alone listening on the radio to her older husbands well known radio broadcasts. So Webb makes some more than frequent late evening and impromptu visits to check up on the pretty Susan who falls prey to Webb's flattery and promises of a better life if she agrees to leave her wealthy husband for a beat cops salary.

The story unfolds slowly with lust and unfulfilled dreams becoming the films main focus with the third wheel becoming Susan's absent husband so Webb decides he has to make a plan to free Susan so that the two of them can have an open relationship.

As with any good plan there are flaws with Webb's own plan and we realize that the noose is closing in on these two adulterous lovers. Greed, lust and looking for a short cut to happiness can only end up in a bad result and this film is a good example of a film noir that works quite well and will hold your attention throughout.

I give it a solid 8 out of 10 rating.

Patrolman Webb Garwood (Van Heflin), called to the upscale home of a late night radio DJ to investigate a reported prowler, covets the man's wife (Evelyn Keyes) and lifestyle and proceeds, through seduction, manipulation, and murder, to attain them with ironic results...

Alain Silver, in his "Film Noir: An Encyclopedic Reference To The American Style", notes that "like most of Losey's American films, THE PROWLER is concerned with complex social issues, which make it marginal to the film noir series." I couldn't agree more that using Film Noir to enlighten dilutes the dark universe the cycle represents but in this case that's a moot point. THE PROWLER doesn't examine social issues, complex or otherwise, and isn't an indictment of America in the mid-twentieth century as much as it is an expose of modern life itself with all its banality and dull aspiration. Better yet, there are no explanations, causes, or, thankfully, remedies offered for the ultimately empty American Dream. Existentially, there's no escape for the outwardly normal anti-hero who is, ironically, a psychopath sworn to "protect and serve" the very ideals he doesn't share. Lonely housewives in unhappy marriages, failed dreams of stardom and college scholarships, soulless ambition for mediocre achievement hidden beneath deceptive outward appearances, and hopes for a future (linked to a motor court) that isn't much better than the past or present all serve to point up the futility of upward mobility. In a bitter irony, Garwood has perverted the American dream but, once attained, that very dream becomes inverted and its ultimate reward (creating a family) proves his undoing. That the birth takes place in a desert ghost town perfectly illustrates a wasteland where everyone is either unfeeling, unsuspecting or dull-witted ...and everything's nothing, really. In its depiction of a monotonous, gray world, THE PROWLER is pure Film Noir and Joseph Losey skillfully conveyed the often pervasive sense of dissatisfaction and ennui with bourgeoisie life but, because of his off screen politics, the film was unfairly tarred with the same brush that derailed the director's career in Hollywood.

The most unsettling thing about THE PROWLER is the way Van Heflin inhabits the role of a corrupt police officer who worms his way into the life of an innocent woman (Evelyn Keyes), a bored housewife trapped in a loveless marriage with a jealous older man.

From the very first scene, we know that Heflin is going to set a trap for this woman and that eventually she'll succumb to his dubious charm merely to break the cycle of loneliness she's used to. The plot sustains interest up until the cliffhanger of an ending in which all hell breaks loose.

But along the way, there are several glaring faults in the script. Keyes falls in love much too quickly, needing him at her side so desperately that he concocts an accidental shooting to get rid of her hubby. And from then on, her motivations for lying at the inquest are shaky, to say the least. Credibility begins to slip as we lurch toward a very effective ending which won't be revealed here.

In the meantime, the performances are professional, with John Maxwell excellent as a loyal friend and Wheaton Chambers fine as a reluctant doctor. Joseph Losey gets all the suspense he can out of the script, but in the end the bleak low-key photography and sparse sets gives it the feel of a hurried programmer rather than an A-film.

One of the many great films noirs the director made in the fifties ,which would culminate in "time without pity" :and a very successful one, thanks to Van Heflin,who at first sight seems a helpful affable cop whereas he is actually a cupid embittered man:he was not given the chance to study at the university and he became a policeman by default.He must have gone through hard times :when the woman invites him for dinner ,he catches all that he can on his way to the dining room.

In its second part the movie recalls Fritz Lang's "You only live twice "(after "the prowler" ,Losey remade "M"),but with a big difference : Lang's heroes are both victims of an unfair society whereas Susan is completely innocent (as far as the crime is concerned)but her new husband is dangerous ,verging on paranoia (the scene when you hear the dead speak on the record is stunning).It's perhaps one of the rare movies in which a baby becomes a living threat.Even the wind ,in the shack -probably Victor Seastrom's silent movie influence- becomes an enemy .