Murallas de silencio

....which ruined the ending of this movie.

"One Way Street" from 1950 stars James Mason, Marta Toren, Dan Duryea, and William Conrad. Mason plays Dr. Frank Matson, a mobster, John Wheeler's (Duryea) doctor. It isn't clear why the doctor isn't in practice; one assumes he botched an operation or something.

Matson steals $200,000 from Wheeler by telling him he has just given him poison, and that he'll call in one hour with the antidote. He then leaves with the money and Wheeler's girlfriend Laura (Toren). They wind up in a small village in Mexico where the two become fixtures - Matson provides medical care for the people and animals, and Laura says it's the only place she has ever felt safe.

However, Wheeler is looking for them, so Matson makes a tough decision.

Well the code wrecked the end of this film. I was very disappointed.

Someone commented that Mason was miscast - he certainly has a lot of class and expertise for a mob doctor, who are usually drunks whose hands shake. Marta Toren was so beautiful, but she died at the age of 31. Tragic. Dan Duryea is his usual mean self, and William Conrad is on hand as a fellow thug.

Good movie except for...the end.

One Way Street opens beautifully. Sirens shriek through the Los Angeles nightscape while, from the window of an apartment building, an elegant woman (Marta Toren) smokes as she watches them disappear. She reports her observations to Dan Duryea, who has just masterminded a big heist. One of his lieutenants (William Conrad), however, has taken a bullet, which gang-sawbones James Mason is summoned to extract. He does so, meanwhile launching a ploy by which he departs not only with all the loot but with Toren – Duryea's moll. Although fate almost deflects their escape, they finally cross the border to Mexico.

And here the movie settles in for a long siesta. Mason and Toren find themselves in a primitive village where Mason's medical skills are pressed into service (he cures a horse but can't save a little girl). There's plenty of warmed-over wisdom issuing from an itinerant priest (Basil Ruysdael) and plenty of danger from bandidos who keep cropping up, swigging mezcal while wiping their lips with the backs of their hands and eying Toren up, down and sideways. Despite these distractions, she seems to like it there and wants to stay, but Mason wants to press on to Mexico City (and their divergent goals and low-key temperaments serve to keep the romance distinctly cool).

This snooze is interrupted a couple of times by cuts back to Los Angeles, where Duryea and Conrad are bent on recouping the money – and on revenge. But only when Mason returns to have a face-to-face reckoning with Duryea does the movie spring back to life. And in a rhyme of its earlier, unexpected intervention, fate proves that it always has the last word.

One Way Street was the first feature in English by the Argentinian-born director Hugo Fregonese, who stayed in Hollywood long enough to churn out a few westerns and genre-pictures (Man In The Attic, one of the many versions of The Lodger was his work). From the bookends that open and close One Way Street, he had a feel for the look and pace of film noir, but the thick volume of Mexican folklore they surround turns out to be a not very film-worthy property.

In the Citadel Film series book on The Films Of James Mason, Mason himself said that he was never told by viewers that they saw this film or was ever questioned about it. I guess that One Way Street might be overlooked in the big budget films that would shortly follow in his career. That's a pity because this one is a good, but fatalistic noir film, something along the lines of Odd Man Out.

In One Way Street Mason is a doctor whose practice is on the wrong side of the law, patching up criminals and not reporting about it. We're never told brought him to this because no one starts this way in the field of medicine.

While on a house call to Dan Duryea's mob after they've pulled a heist, Duryea rides Mason once too often and through a rather ingenious bluff he winds up stealing the loot from a robbery the gang just pulled off. Not only that, he winds up stealing Marta Toren away from Duryea so Dan has two reasons for going after him.

Mason and Toren have to land in a remote village in Mexico when the plane they've chartered develops engine trouble. Even a defrocked doctor is welcome among these people where Mason and Toren settle and start to enjoy life a little, but life and the past do catch up.

Duryea's henchmen include William Conrad, King Donovan, and Jack Elam who are as scurvy a lot as you'll find. Basil Ruysdael who is always an authority figure of some kind is fine as the local priest at the village where Mason and Toren are staying. Look fast or you'll miss Rock Hudson in a bit role as a truckdriver with one line in the film.

Marta Toren who hoped to succeed both Greta Garbo and Ingrid Bergman as a cinema sensation from Sweden died tragically young. She never broke into A pictures in America, but she was for me one of the most beautiful women the big screen ever saw.

If your genre is noir you cannot go wrong with One Way Street.

Dan Duryea and his gang have just pulled off a big haul. Doctor James Mason scoops the loot and Duryea's girlfriend, Märta Torén. The two fugitives head to Mexico City, but the plane they're in is forced down in a poor coastal village by a busted fuel pump. The canny and kindly local priest. Basil Ruysdael, talks them into staying and giving medical help to his parishioners. However, Duryea is still looking for them, for vengeance.

It's a well produced story of redemption, and Ruysdael steals the show. He was born in 1878 in Jersey City, New Jersey, USA as Basil Spaulding Millspaugh. From 1910 through 1918, he was a bass-baritone for the Metropolitan Opera Company, before going on Broadway and then radio. His movie debut was in THE COCOANUTS in 1929. Aside from some voice-over work in shorts, he next was seen on the screen in 1949. He died in 1960.

I tend to mostly avoid James Mason films in a British setting as he frequently evokes the staid, bloodless, leather driving glove school of acting of England in the 1950s.

Here, however, as a fish out of water character in this U. S / Mexican saga he is rather good. The accompanying cast of Marta Toren, William Conrad and the always excellent Dan Duryea are hard to resist. The final act contrasts of a baked Mexican pueblo back to a rain sodden nocturnal American city are extremely evocative. Ditching the Noir urban for a village, and redemption in the bucolic charms of country life is a novel take for a film of this genre.

Here's the kicker - very hard to find a 35mm converted version of this film, instead it is the horror of Blu ray / HD manipulations which are in ready supply, a technology which completely destroys old movies. The displaced filmic world, the wealth and grain of celluloid is replaced by shiny, immediate, clear cut images, completely erasing depth of field and the necessary suspension of disbelief - instead, constantly jolting the viewer out of absorption and into an over awareness of sets, props and the artifice of production.