keithhmessenger

The ingredients of turn-of-WW2, black-and-white, espionage, (cockney) banter, semi-comedic, etc., often implied the great 1930s-40s British films of Alfred Hitchcock, such as The 39 Steps, The Lady Vanishes, Sabotage, The Man Who Knew Too Much, etc. Disappointingly, if not that surprisingly, director David Macdonald's 1940 'b' movie does not live up to such expectations as Barry K Barnes' adroit lawyer, Larry Preston, attempts to infiltrate a 'foreign' criminal gang by feigning to be their accomplice. MacDonald's film is clearly a low budget affair (makeshift sets, concise running time and one or two hammy acting turns) with largely hit-or-miss comedy, albeit with one or two solid acting turns. In fact, one of my main reasons for watching MacDonald's film was the casting of the great Alastair Sim as Preston's partner lawyer, whose role here as Samuel Blight, despite some nice scenes as Blight attempts to 'seduce' a seemingly well-to-do client, is somewhat perfunctory.

Barnes, cast alongside his then glamorous wife, Diana Churchill, as Janet, make for a solidly convincing (not Cary Grant - Rosalind Russell, obviously!) and endearing couple, whilst Edward Chapman (who was cast in the early Hitch, Juno and the Paycock) is impressive as the officious, blustering Inspector Bray, whose (verbal) jousting with Preston is a film highlight. As is to be expected with a 'b' film from this era, the stereotyping of goodies vs. Baddies is way too obvious even if the likes of Austin Trevor and Leo Genn turn in convincing performances in their attempts to influence the tide of the imminent war.

Indeed, the 'eve of war' setting, as both Preston and Blight get their papers to enlist, makes for quite an interesting denouement, the pair being latterly bedecked in military uniform.

Is it just me or has anyone else noticed how many (recent) films there seem to be featuring horses? Lean On Pete, Calm With Horses, The Rider, (The Misfits going back a few years!), and now feature debut co-writer and director, Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre's 2019 film. This time we get a rather original take on the beast, as Matthias Schoenaert's volatile, violent, loner ('I'm not good with people') and father, Roman Coleman, finds him incarcerated in an isolated (rural) prison where the (to Roman, remote) prospect of bonding with a wild mustang (as part of the prison's rehabilitation program) might just prove to be his only 'way out' (certainly metaphorically, if not physically). De Clermont-Tonnerre's film could be regarded as typical 'indie fare', being, on the one hand, narrative-light and, on the other, atmosphere (and, to a lesser extent, character) heavy, but the director, together with cinematographer, Ruben Impens, and (no doubt) the 'animal trainers', provide the film with a palpable sense of realism, getting 'close up and personal' with the film's equine stars.

In amongst the film's central narrative - that of Roman's up-and-down battle to 'tame' both himself and his charge (named Marquis) - we get some subsidiary threads around a prison ketamine dealing ring, a series of psychological prisoner evaluations, plus Roman needing to address, with his estranged, pregnant daughter (Gideon Adlon good as Martha), his own guilt (and volatility). It is, though, Roman's growing bond with Marquis - from the moment Roman notices the horse's wild behaviour (attempting to kick down the walls of its 'prison') and wonders whether Marquis might his 'soulmate' - that is front and centre and, even if the film's trajectory might be relatively predictable (through to what I would call its One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest-type denouement), there is a certain inspirational type quality here. Acting-wise, mention should be made of the fine veteran turn (even if very much a cameo) by Bruce Dern as the grizzled 'horse trainer', Myles, and even Schoenaert's distant, almost robotic, acting style eventually begins to reel you in.

Also worthy of note, alongside the film's (likely) obvious appeal to those of us with an interest in the natural world, is (as the pre and post-film blurb indicates) the fact that such (real-life) 'prisoner-horse rehabilitation' programs have a positive impact on prisoner reoffending rates. In this respect, another comparator with The Mustang is Greg Kwedar's excellent 2023 film Sing Sing, in which creative theatre effectively substitutes for horses.

Joseph H Lewis' 1955 noir has pretty much all the credentials required for a top-rated film in the genre. In order of effectiveness in Lewis' film we get: a sharp, street-smart screenplay and plot (incidentally skilfully edited) courtesy of Philip Yordan; a brilliant leading performance (from Richard Conte as the uncompromising 'mob boss', Mr Brown); a host of great character turns in supporting roles; an on-point score by David Raksin (particularly with its opening suitably jazzy and sleazy theme); and often memorable (particularly the close-ups) monochrome cinematography by John Alton. Ideally we would also have had an impressive turn from the 'lead moll' actress (say, a Gloria Grahame or a Lauren Bacall), but, unfortunately, I found Jean Wallace's turn as Brown's love interest, Susan Lowell, to be rather weak (not helped by her repeated 'soft focus' visuals), whilst, on the other hand, Helene Stanton's performance as lead cop's (Cornel Wilde's Lt. Leonard Diamond) infrequent 'work diversion' is somewhat underdone.

The film's opening sequence in which his boss berates Diamond for wasting taxpayers' money on his seemingly fruitless pursuit of the 'innocent' Brown is also a nice original touch, whereas Diamond's obsession with a 'lush' (i.e. Alcoholic) moll with suicidal tendencies (Lowell) is probably less so. The intricacy of Yordan's plot - as Diamond discovers a potentially exploitable 'banana skin' in Brown's past - is elevated (disguised?) by the film's fast-paced editing and the series of excellent character performances which include (as Brown's 'heavies') Lee Van Cleef, Earl Holliman and the altogether more subtle Brian Donlevy (as a fixer), plus (as Brown's past 'accomplices') John Hoyt and Ted de Corsia. Yordan's dialogue and vernacular is endlessly quotable and wryly comic with multiple 'lushes' and Diamond summing up at one point his intentions towards Brown with, 'I'm gonna open you up and I'm gonna operate'. A final mention for Conte's turn here which is quite brilliant and reminiscent - with its clipped, arrogant confidence - of Burt Lancaster's media mogul, J J Hunsecker, in Sweet Smell of Success.

In summary, an excellent noir, which, whilst for me not quite reaching the levels of, say, The Maltese Falcon, Double Indemnity, Night and the City, The Killing, Pickup on South Street, etc., is an absolute must-see for any fans of the genre.