The Limping Man

Convoluted murder mystery. So who shot Kendall Brown from a distance as he was exiting a London airport. It wasn't Frank Prior (Bridges) who gets involved through happenstance, which wouldn't have happened if girlfriend Pauline (Lister) had met him at the airport as she was supposed to. Then there's singer Helene (Cordet) who's also implicated, that is, when she's not performing in a magic act. Anyhow, Scotland Yard's on the case, so the limping culprit better watch out. At least that's the way things appear.

Bridges fans like myself may be disappointed since his role is clearly secondary to Lister's and somewhat incidental to the plot. It may be that director Endfield did him an employment favor since both were targets of the Hollywood blacklist. After all, they had worked together brilliantly on the gripping Sound Of Fury (1950). There're a number of nice touches. I especially chuckled over the randy young police inspector (Phillips) when he trades meaningful looks with the busty landlady's daughter (Marsh). It's amusingly done. Also, the magician's act is novel accompaniment to Helene's singing. Too bad, however, we don't get a better look at the effects that pass by unhighlighted.

I'm guessing the bummer ending was because the plot's complexity made tying up all the loose ends darn difficult. Anyway, it's a pretty good time passer, ending or no, with a number of entertaining touches.

There is a strict rule with IMDb reviews not to reveal the ending, so that shall remain undescribed. Up until that point, this is a very solid post-War British noir. American actor Lloyd Bridges plays a former American army captain who returns to England six years after the end of the War to renew a romance with his old flame, played by Moira Lister. She has become involved with a petty criminal and has been blackmailed by him when she tried to break off with him a year earlier. There are some good atmospheric shots down along the Thames in the East End of London at now-vanished riverside locations; it is ironical that much of what survived the German bombing has been destroyed in the past twenty years by developers, and the only way to see it now is in old movies like this one. Rachel Roberts, in her second film, plays a barmaid at the Spread Eagle pub in the East End. She was later to marry Rex Harrison, and she became a favourite British film actress in the 1960s, her most famous role being in 'This Sporting Life' (1963). She committed suicide in 1980 at the age of only 53. The 'limping man' of the title is a mysterious limping sniper who assassinates Lister's man friend on the runway at London airport, just as Bridges turns and asks him for a light for his cigarette. The police eventually discover the coincidence of Bridges being present at the murder of the man who had been involved with Lister, whom Bridges then visits, so that it all looks like a complicated conspiracy. But Bridges, like all square-jawed American heroes, is innocent, of course. However, what is Moira Lister's role in all of this? And why does she act so strange? What is really going on? It is a really good yarn, but then, as I have already pointed out and as other reviewers have also loudly complained, there is an absurd ending which infuriates the viewer, which is why so many reviewers have been highly upset. If you can brace yourself for that disappointment, the film is well worth watching.

It was quite common in the '50s for British B-pictures to feature a fairly famous American star in the main role. Presumably most British B-movies would not otherwise have been granted an American release. In this film, it is the turn of Lloyd Bridges to lend his talents to a brief, brisk and reasonably entertaining mystery flick.

Bridges plays Franklin Pryor, a former US soldier returning to Britain in the 1950s to rekindle a wartime romance with Pauline French (Moira Lister). As he disembarks from the plane at London Heathrow, Pryor witnesses the assassination of another passenger, gunned down by a sniper as he walks from the plane to the terminal. To make matters worse, when Pryor reunites with his old flame she seems to know more about the killing than she is letting on. The police even begin to suspect that Pryor himself may have had a role in the murder.

The script is reasonably engrossing, starting with the mysterious murder and building from there with plenty more intriguing goings-on. Indeed, for a while the film threatens to become something far cleverer and far more unpredictable than most films of its ilk. However, it is let down (badly at that) by a totally thoughtless twist ending which will have most viewers groaning in disappointment. Still, apart from the feeble climax this is a decent little thriller, well worth 80 minutes (or thereabouts) of anybody's time. It's a difficult film to track down, but if you're lucky enough to find it it'll do nicely for a rainy day.

The Limping Man is a fairly bland British B grade Noir with Lloyd Bridges imported from America to play the lead role and add appeal to a wider audience. The plot follows a reasonably intriguing path towards what should/could have been a dramatic conclusion before reaching a disappointing ending that might have been borrowed from a children's story. Despite this, the film has its moments with fine performances from Bridges and Alan Wheatley as the Inspector. Leslie Phillips appears as the inspector's subordinate and, as always, is typecast as the ladies man who ogles everything in a dress.

Although the ending is flawed the film still has appeal as an interesting example of British Film Noir.

The Limping Man is one of a large number of competent British mysteries made in the '50's and featuring American actors in leading roles. In this one, it's Lloyd Bridges who stars. He is always credible and enjoyable to watch, but, in this feature, has too little to do. He is cast as an American who returns to London many years after the war to see his old girlfriend. Once there, a man standing next to him on the tarmac is gunned down by a sniper. He soon learns that there is a connection between the victim and his girlfriend. A web of intrigue unevenly unfolds. While the film does not fall into any predictable pattern of clichés, neither does it fit neatly together into the satisfying structure one expects of a good taut British mystery. Moira Lister lacks the appeal necessary to make the part of the girlfriend interesting, and she just doesn't click with Bridges. Helene Cordet as a decorative French entertainer also leaves one cold. (More interesting, though, in a bit part, is a young Jean Marsh.) All in all, it's middling double-feature fare, but well worth seeing if you like the genre.