La mujer de las medias negras

What can you say about a movie whose three female stars are Anne Bancroft, Marie Windsor and Mamie Van Doren? Well, that none of them is used at anywhere near her full potential (except maybe Van Doren, the sum of whose potential is exhausted at first glimpse). And that's basically the problem with this little tailfins-era whodunit about a serial killer at a Utah mountain lodge. Its very real potential is never delivered. The characters and plot strands are handled perfunctorily, mechanically; they're interesting and offbeat but not satisfyingly developed, so the solution comes as a bad surprise and something of a cheat. Owner of the lodge, Ron Randell, is a psychosomatically paralyzed woman-hater nursed by his doting sister (Windsor). Les Barker (not to be confused with Les Baxter, who wrote the score!) loses no opportunity to display his physique poolside as a vacationing L.A. attorney who's wooing the diffident Bancroft. Van Doren does her platinum-blonde bombshell shtik and John Dehner, as the sheriff, seems to have wandered in from a Western shooting nearby. The movie looks good, in a simplified, populuxe way, and winds up like a better-than-average TV drama from circa 1957. Too bad: The Girl in Black Stockings had all the makings of a more interesting movie.

The Girl in Black Stockings is directed by Howard W. Koch and written by Richard Landau and Peter Godfrey. It stars Lex Barker, Anne Bancroft, Mamie Van Doren, Ron Randell, John Dehner and Marie Windsor. Music is by Les Baxter and cinematography by William Margulies.

When a party girl is found murdered at a Utah hotel, everyone is under suspicion.

Miserable predatory creatures!

One of the definitions of the low budget drive-in movie, The Girl in Black Stockings is an odd and fascinating picture. In core essence it's a standard murder mystery piece, a sort of minor Ten Little Indians only with kooky overtones.

She'd get on that dance floor and fry eggs!

The characterisations, performed by a wide scope cast list, are firmly in the realm of the off kilter or suspiciously suspect! While some of the scripted dialogue is priceless and pungent with noirish tones. Plus there is lots of smoking going on to emphasise the noirish fever.

I'm gonna have to raise taxes to build a morgue!

The acting is all over the place, mind, with Tarzan leading the way doing some smell the fart acting, while others are overwrought in delivery of script. Yet the up and down acting fits into the grand scheme of Utah weirdo style, further accentuated by the swirly Gothic musical score.

Nutty and fruity, corny yet crisp, it's a fun experience. Plus there's Van Doren, who had to have had the widest mouth of all circa the 1950s. 7/10

A lot of talent is wasted in this turgid misfire. At this point in his career, director Howard W. Koch had proved himself an efficient overseer of crime dramas-- Big House USA; Shield for Murder et al. Here however his usual expert pacing dissolves into a number of static, uninvolving scenes with way too much dialogue for a slasher film.

Then too, note the lack of reaction when suspect Frankie backs into a log-cutting machine. The sheriff (John Dehner) and his deputy merely stand there expressionless, with no help from the director, after observing what is presumably a very gory accident. My guess is that Koch took one look at the script and decided to walk through the rest.

In fact, the real problem is the script, which is about as confusing as a whodunit gets. Note the five-minute explanation Dehner has to deliver in order to tie-up loose ends in the movie's last scene. Not only is his solution as complicated as a problem in higher math, but I suspect the audience has long since lost interest, anyway. Not helping either is Ron Randell's teeth-clenching attempt to play the role of a mordantly depressed cripple. But then, who could bring off all that goofy sarcasm that the script sticks in his mouth.

The real crime is not using such ace performers as Marie Windsor and Anne Bancroft to better effect, especially Windsor whose role could have been filled by a dozen lesser actresses. Note also how sexpot Mamie Van Doren's one big high-cleavage scene is highlighted. No doubt that one showed up on all the promotion posters during the age of the busty blonde. Also wasted is the spectacularly scenic landscape around Kanab, Utah, where the movie was filmed. Instead, the action only leaves the nondescript resort grounds once, to go to the lumber mill.

In fact the whole production seems a curious affair-- almost like a bunch of Hollywood types suddenly found themselves at the same Southwestern resort and decided to shoot a movie, typing up the script each night after a heavy cocktail hour. Anyhow, whatever the backstory, the resulting film amounts to a plodding and talky misfire that likely never got closer than the farthest drive-in from town.

The Girl in Black Stockings (1957)

** (out of 4)

Bizarre thriller set in a Utah resort where the body of a woman is found brutally sliced up. David Hewson (Lex Barker) was supposed to have gone out with the woman but instead went with someone else (Anne Bancroft) and soon he's looking into who did the brutal murder. It's important to note that THE GIRL IN BLACK STOCKINGS came out three years before PSYCHO or PEEPING TOM and while this film here isn't nearly as good as those two, it's worth saying that this one here beat them in regards to murder and mental illness. It also beat those two masterpieces by showing and discussing some graphic murder scenes first. This film here is too uneven and at times too poorly done to be considered "good" but I think fans of the genre are going to find enough interesting things here to make it worth viewing. I'm not going to ruin the ending but I will say that the final fifteen-minutes are extremely well done and manage to be quite creepy as well. I really liked how the film played itself out and once you see who is responsible and why the murders were done, well, it's very nicely handled. Barker, best known for his stint as Tarzan, does a pretty good job here as he's at least interesting enough to help the viewer go through the entire film. He manages to carry the film without a problem but Bancroft also deserves a lot of credit as she too is extremely good. Ron Randell is also good in his role as a paralyzed man and Marie Windsor, a noir vet, is good as his sister. Cult favorite Mamie Van Doren also briefly appears. Barker not only acted in the film but he also did the music score, which is quite effective. The problem with the film is that some of the supporting performances aren't all that memorable and there are times where the direction is a bit sloppy. Some of the dialogue could have been better written as well. Still, this film manages to set itself apart from a lot of other mysteries from this period and the good things here make it worth sitting through at least once.

This late fifties whodunit has some interesting credits. It was directed by the able and eclectic Howard Koch, and features three quite different actresses in major roles,--Mamie Van Doren, Anne Bancroft and Marie Windsor. Suave character man John Dehner is cast as the local lawman; ex-Tarzan Lex Barker is the male lead; Stuart Whitman and Dan Blocker have small roles; and Barker wrote the music score. This is the only movie I have ever seen that features a murder suspect who is a bitter, woman-hating man, psychosomatically paralyzed from the neck down, who can't even pour his own drinks or light his own cigarettes. Ron Randell plays him marvelously, and had the film been directed by Ingmar Bergman would surely have won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar. I wouldn't quite call this movie trashy, but it has a trashy feel to it, as it comes across in some ways as a sort of Southwest version of Peyton Place crossed maybe with Anatomy Of a Murder, the small-town black and white mood of which it strangely anticipates. Everyone in this movie has a secret. The question is, whose secret is murder? The pacing isn't strong here, and the dialog is variable. William Margulies' photography is excellent, however; and the settings,--the motel resort and small desert town--are perfectly realized. There is a nice feeling for people whose lives have fallen just short of the big time, and who are angry about it. As a result, more than in most movies, everyone seems more than capable of being a killer. I especially like the sense of isolation in the film, and with it the edge of danger. As with so many crime pictures of its era, it seems to be trying to say something about American life, and how materialism and ambition are destroying it. With its acerbic invalid in one corner, and its muslceman in the other, and all the beautiful women gallivanting about and making life miserable for everyone, this one, with sharper writing and a sense of the absurd, might really have risen and become an Antonioni-like commentary on the American Dream. As it stands, it doesn't come close, though some of its characters and images linger in the mind long after its over.