Der Mann, der einen Mord vergaß

This is a essentially a 45 minute film which has been painfully padded out to almost 80 minutes, and it shows, as by the end I was beyond caring about the main protagonist, William Franklyn and the whole safe cracking, amnesia saga. Franklyn is a too smooth and languid character to hold the attention of the audience. His one dimensional, underwhelming character, squeezes the life out of this crime drama and so I was left merely observing the acting of the lovely Nanette Newman and Moira Redmond who have a tough time playing opposite the wooden lead. These cheaply made films traded on the usual criminal stereotypes which popped up in countless British crime films in the 50's and early 60's, hence the appearance of Michael Balfour playing the usual low life criminal, complete with cigarette dangling from the mouth. Sorry, but this film dragged so much that I was left praying for the end.

I found "Pit Of Darkness" a reasonable film to watch but with several plot holes, not least no-one wondering if there was a connection between William Franklyn being missing for three weeks and one of his firm's safes being robbed by an expert. And the partner in the firm didn't even mention the incident when Franklyn did turn up. The gang that held him must have been very considerate in allowing him to buy some smart new clothes after they'd messed up those he'd been wearing when they captured him!

It wasn't very bright of Franklyn to accept the blonde hostess's invitation to her flat after her previous invitation to a cottage had nearly led to his death. And then the gang, after several attempts to bump him off, suddenly realised that they needed him to crack another safe.

As another reviewer has suggested, the makers seem to have taken bits of plots from other films and untidily cobbled them together.

Franklyn acted well enough and there were several interesting names in the supporting cast.

Lance Comfort was no bad director, and he made quite a number of very sustained thriller dramas of lasting interest, although it's obvious he never could work with any sufficient budget - most of his films are of the B level, and that's glaringly obvious in this one: almost all scenes, except for a few street scenes in the dark, are indoors in flats, a cellar, the Blue Baboon night club and the cottage way out in the country, which is only used for being blown up. The weakness of this thriller is, like in so many squeezed thrillers, that so many threads are left incomplete. The murder of the blonde, for instance, is just left behind without any further questions or reports, neither in the papers nor by the police. The death of Bruno is also left without any further notice. William Franklyn at least makes a plausible case, he manages well like all the actors, and it's a relief to learn that both the doctor and the wife had nothing to do with the plot. The boy introducing the case is one of the most important parts. It's a great plot up to Lance Comfort's best standard, and he was actually best at making B-films rising up to a higher level, like the excellent "Temptation Harbour" of 1947.

Amnesia is a staple of film noir and has been dealt with memorably, if you'll pardon the pun, in dozens of films such as Street of Chance (1942), Somewhere in the Night (1946), Home at Seven (1952) and Spellbound (1945). More recently, Colin Farrell lost his memory in Total Recall (2012) which some will no doubt label as a techno-noir. This film, however, is easily forgotten. Lance Comfort was a prolific director. Looking at the list of films I've seen this year I come across Tomorrow at Ten (1962), Bedelia (1946), Hatter's Castle (1941,) Breaking Point (1961), The Painted Smile (1962), Rag Doll(1962), and Hotel Reserve (1944), all directed by Comfort, and all superior to this absurdly plotted, oddly photographed (there are several pointless, lingering close-ups of William Franklyn, Bruno Barnabe, Nanette Newman et al) and poorly acted (especially by Franklyn, who gives underacting a bad name) programmer that would have been more effective at the 50-60 minutes mark rather the thrill-less 77 I sat through. Still, this time tomorrow I won't remember a thing about this dud.

William Franklyn, whose voiceover of Schweppes adverts would become a TV feature, posts a highly convincing performance here, hardly ever leaving the screen, and somehow reminding me of a younger Rex Harrison. He certainly looks suitably bamboozled to begin with, as he carefully pieces together his three weeks' absence from work and home.

Director Lance Comfort, about whom I am embarrassed to admit I know nothing, intelligently puts together a maze of flashbacks and throws in quite a few suspects until Logan (Franklyn) works out the enigma - and that begins with firm partner "enigmatically" telling him about the Ethiope's Ear, subsequently identified as the 250,000 quid diamond stolen from a tycoon called Tuscan.

Why that partner knows that crucial detail, and even recites it to him in his wife's presence - lovely Moira Redmond - is never explained and has to go down as a big minus, costing my rating one star. It deliberately deceives the viewer and detracts from the plot's credibility.

Otherwise, logical incidents advance a riveting and fluid story line, cinematography by Emmot and editing by Trumper are first class, and even the recurrent song, My Heart Is the Lover, by Martin Slavin, is really catchy.

Leonard Sachs plays the foreign-accented villain unctuously enough.

Not perfect, no masterpiece, but no waste of 79'. Recommended viewing if you like film noir.