Der Henker nimmt Maß

San Quentin inmate Jack Palance hatches quite a scheme to get out of jail--get his lookalike brother to trade places with him in prison for a day while he constructs a foxhole to hide in, leading to his and his brother's escape. Filmed on-location in Cinemascope at San Quentin prison, with officers and inmates used as extras. It's a ludicrous plot, but the director keeps everything very low-keyed, and Jack Palance is excellent in demanding dual role. Extraordinarily silly, but so well-made you may be absorbed and interested despite yourself. Harold Stone is steely-eyed and cunning as a prison guard and Edward Platt(later of TV's "Get Smart")is believably sympathetic as the nicest prison warden you'll ever see. Barbara Lang also good as the convict's wife, obviously cast for her platinum hair and curvy figure, but giving a grounded, natural performance without showy airs.

Jack Palance is dynamite in a duel role as good/bad brothers in this dated but interesting prison-break drama. Subtle makeup variations and changes in bearing and demeanor make him easily recognizable as either the junior or senior sibling, a phenomenon which, in itself, makes the film imminently watchable. Beautiful Barbara Lang is captivating as the bad bro's missus, delivering a portrayal that belies a blonde-bimbo first impression, and talented Harold J. Stone gives a bang-up performance as a prison guard/neighbor. Much of the movie is a character study involving the brothers and the wife, but the escape scheme and its implementation provide a low-key suspense seldom seen in modern films.

Jack Palance does double duty (as twins) in this 1957 prison break caper. Palance is both the older brother outside San Quentin & the younger on the inside who hopes to spring him especially since a guard who was thrown off a balcony by him may be coming out of the hospital to make a positive ID. Palance, on the outside, teams up w/his bro's wife, played Barbara Lang, to execute a hugely intricate plot to extricate him (one scheme has Palance breaking into the prison where he can switch places w/his bro while he spends a night digging a shallow grave for himself, complete w/a pipe to breathe through) but the edges of their plan start to go off the rails when the apartment they take in the city to be near the prison abuts w/one of the prison guards, played by Harold J. Stone, who is not too subtle putting the eyes on Lang's comely figure. Lang also starts to have her doubts about her marriage to the younger (it was because of an act of jealousy which put him in prison) as her attentions start to drift toward the older. Will the plan go off w/o a hitch? Pretty solid going for the most part as the story (based on a yarn by Jack Finney who gave us Invasion of the Body Snatchers) details keep becoming more intriguing as the plan starts to flesh itself out but other than some barebones handling of the twins in the same frame & some of the escape highlights (Palance scaling the prison wall at night in full view of anybody) a little farfetched, the film is entertaining as heck & worth the time. Also starring Timothy Carey & Joe Turkel (both of whom would appear the same year in Kubrick's Paths of Glory) as cons while Edward Platt (Chief from Get Smart) plays the warden.

The dark and creepy atmosphere of this film is unrelenting from beginning to end, with the contrast of the beautiful female lead. You've got two ghoulish-looking brothers in and out of prison, a sinister plot, and suspicion all around.

As director and screenwriter, Russell Rouse usually had something a little different up his sleeve, at least when he was toiling in film noir. His D.O.A remains one of the best-remembered films of the cycle, but he also contributed The Well, The Thief, Wicked Woman, and New York Confidential – each of them at least some distance off the beaten track. His films tended to be less ostentatious than their rivals – quieter even (none quieter than The Thief, that dialogue-free experiment).

House of Numbers was his last urban crime drama; he would go on to helm a few westerns and, in 1966, the dreadful The Oscar. But House of Numbers shows him in reasonably fine form. Jack Palance plays brothers: Arnie, in San Quentin for killing a man in a fight (he was a boxer so his hands are `lethal weapons') and Bill, who moves to San Francisco to spring him out. His helpmate in this Mission-Impossible-style scheme is Arnie's wife Ruth (Barbara Lang). The scheme is far from simple, involving Bill's smuggling himself into prison for a spell and posing as Arnie (not so far-fetched, since the same actor plays both roles). But things go wrong, such as Bill and Ruth happening to rent a house next to that of a prison guard who knows Arnie, and then falling in love with one another....

Though House of Numbers may be the least violent Big-House story ever filmed, Rouse doesn't let the reins go slack. He twists the plot along to its surprisingly sedate conclusion, and brings it off. Maybe the most memorable aspect of the film is Barbara Lang's subdued and touching performance. This blonde stunner's film credits could be counted on the fingers of a maimed hand, and that's both a puzzle and a shame.

The score, too is memorable, thanks to André Previn. His galley years in Hollywood, before he left to become a `serious' conductor and composer, were spent on a startling number of low-budget productions, including many noirs. He did them proud. Had he teamed up with a director of auteurist aspirations, like Hitchcock, he might have become legendary for his scores, like Korngold or Herrmann or Webb. (But then, we might not have gotten his opera A Streetcar Named Desire.)