The Pretender

Kenneth Holden (Albert Dekker) is a sleazy banker who has been misusing the funds of an heiress in order to cover his losses in the stock market. He owes nearly $100,000 and his plan is to hide it by marrying the heiress. But Claire informs him that she's already engaged...so Holden arranges for the boyfriend to have an 'accident'. However, Claire unexpectedly changes her mind and insists that Holden marry her. So he does and then tries to cancel the contract...as, after all, the contract was to kill Claire's fiancé...and the killer might just think that's Holden. But this goes amok when the man behind arranging the 'accident' is murdered...and he's unable to stop the contract! Holden is at his wits end...realizing that some unknown killer might just be waiting for him!

This is an exciting and sleazy movie...and I mean sleazy in the best possible way! It has many film noir sensibilities and ends as such a film would end. Very exciting and well made.

THE PRETENDER is a neat little film noir with a high concept and atmospheric execution. It was directed by W. Lee Wilder, the lesser-known brother of Billy, and has a great little story that I haven't seen done before. The main character, as played by Albert Dekker, is a banker with the debts mounting up, so he somewhat cheekily uses the funds of a rich woman he knows in order to pay them off.

Dekker isn't happy with the situation so decides to move closer to the woman by paying a gangster to have her lover bumped off, thus paving the way for him. In the end, though, the woman falls for Dekker himself, so his next job is to call off the hit lest he himself is mistaken for the victim. At this point, things get complicated.

A great sense of foreboding and claustrophobia propels THE PRETENDER, which makes it stand out a little from the rest. The copious use of the Theremin machine on the soundtrack is a lovely touch. The cast is undistinguished but Dekker is believable as the thoroughly unlikeable protagonist. There's also a great little role for the delightfully sinister Charles Middleton, a former Ming the Merciless. The highlight of the movie is undoubtedly the climax, which is fantastic stuff.

What would it have been like if David Lynch were sitting in the director's chair in the golden age of film noir? This picture might give a hint of what it may have looked like. The thing is populated with phantoms inhabiting the bodies of some of the screen's most dastardly character types. There goes Charles Middleton posing as a butler from the nether regions. And here comes a young doctor in the guise of Charles Drake. I wonder what else he cuts up when he slithers out the door in the evening? And then there's the film's handsome, middle aged, Albert Dekker, in a bravura performance as an embezzler. He continually wrings his hands and worries about other fantasies that are too diseased for the light of night. He becomes obsessed and woefully paranoid about "those who are coming" to get him. He locks himself into his "fine and private" room there to gorge himself on a worthless diet of potted meats and stale crackers. His self perpetuated madness takes on epic proportions as he tries to get away from his internal horror and this makes for the ultimate bad choice in causing him to forfeit his life in a most chilling manner.

This is truly a low budget nightmare noir filmed with consummate skill and gusto by the German cinematographer John Alton before his career with the terrific director Anthony Mann. The two of them made some of the finest film noirs to grace the screen. Also, this particular picture uses forced perspective and scrunched miniatures to add to its otherworldly view. In the end, it is probably W.Lee Wilder, Billy's older brother's best attempt behind the camera. He wouldn't manage to trod any meaner streets than these again.

With a solid cast and a good storyline, this film fits the bill for decent noir. Although made on a budget from a secondary studio, with less than great production values, the story is so compelling, that it will keep your attention from beginning to end. An investment expert gets knee deep in debt and marries a rich heiress to bail himself out, but there are complications. You will see them unfold as the story unwinds. A real treat. Reminiscent of The Scoundrel with George Sanders.

Albert Dekker does a great job as your average sleazeball broker, who would sell his own mother for a few bucks. The rest of the cast does an admirable job as well, with most playing gullible customers. Just so reminiscent of Wall Street, where I used to work selling baseball cards in front of the stock exchange.

A genuine bottom of the barrel sleeper. Sure, the budget doesn't exceed about a dollar-fifty, especially for the bare-bones sets. But wisely, most of that was earmarked for two giants of classic noir— actor Dekker and photographer Alton. Add to that a pretty tight little screenplay, and we get a riveting foray into a noirish web of paranoia and guilt, heightened by Dekker's commanding performance and Alton's expressionist lighting.

Note, for example, how economically stockbroker Holden's (Dekker) devious character is conveyed in the opening scene. He's dug a hole and now must scheme his way out, but soon that scheming will envelop him in odd ways, through either sheer bad luck or the proverbial hand of noirish fate. What a marvelously dominating turn by Dekker as the doomed fortune hunter. He always brought an icy intelligence to his roles and it's on effective display here.

Note also how Alton's lighting gets progressively more oppressive as the web tightens. Those pin lights isolating Holden's face are perfect visual correlates of the mounting paranoia. And catch that final grim figure, eating out of a suitcase in an unlit bedroom, the dark forces at last closing in. Noir doesn't get much more expressive than this.

Something should also be said about Alan Carney's wonderfully sinister nightclub owner. Note how quickly he moves from jovial host to fierce gangster once Holden broaches his murderous proposition. At the same time, that screeching giggle is enough to cause an audience run on earmuffs. The rotund Carney's an unusual presence, to say the least. Too bad that other expert grotesque, Charles Middleton, is in a rather conventional butler role, minus way too much screen time. His graveyard voice is always a shuddery treat, and a big reason to catch those old Flash Gordon serials.

Director Wilder may have been the lesser half of the two director brothers, but a look at his production credits shows a certain flair for low-budget quality both here and elsewhere— The Great Flamarion (1945), Strange Impersonation (1946), Three Steps North (1951)-- all contain redeeming virtues, even if in a minor key.

All in all, The Pretender remains a sleeper on several interesting levels-- another pleasant surprise at even this most obscure level of 40's movie-making.

(In passing-- viewers might question the eerie, yet cheesy, presence of the theremin sound effect in what's already an eerie movie. Also, there're some distractive problems with Holden's moustache. Check out the occasional color and shape shifts for no apparent reason. Maybe someone in make-up was near-sighted.)