99 River Street

99 River Street is directed by Phil Karlson and adapted to screenplay by Robert Smith from a story by George Zuckerman. It stars John Payne, Evelyn Keyes, Brad Dexter, Frank Faylen, Jay Adler, Eddie Waller and Peggie Castle. Music is by Arthur Lange and Emil Newman and cinematography by Franz Planer.

After sustaining a serious eye injury, boxer Ernie Driscoll (Payne) has had to retire from the ring and now drives a cab for a living. Constantly chided by his beautiful wife, Pauline (Castle), for being a failure, Ernie is close to breaking point when he finds that she is having an affair with a charismatic jewel thief. So when Pauline turns up dead in the back of Ernie's cab, he's obviously the chief suspect. But along with actress friend Linda James (Keyes), he attempts to unravel the mystery that is threatening to destroy his life.

Tough as old boots, 99 River Street is the kind of unsung film noir crying out to be discovered by more like minded cinephiles. Though short of expressionistic verve, which was never Karlson's thing anyway, all the elements for a nitty-gritty noir are in place. New York forms the backdrop as a city of broken dreams, shattered illusions, a place frequented by unfaithful spouses, shifty fences, violent thieves and theatrical luvvies so far removed from the real post war world it would be funny were it no so sad! Smack bang in the middle of this tainted Americana is Ernie Driscoll, basically a good guy, but when pushed into a corner emotionally or physically, he strikes out in the only way he knows how, with his fists.

As Karlson blurs the lines between the theatrical world and that of the real one, deftly essayed by Ernie and Linda, the director is clearly enjoying having such colourful characters to work with. Payne's tough guy anti-hero, Keyes' savvy heroine, Adler's unerringly menacing fence, Dexter's oily villain and Castle's disgustingly selfish wife. Throw in some thugs, persistent coppers and humane counterpoints portrayed by Faylen and Waller, and it's a nicely simmering broth of bad news, sexual suggestion and off-kilter redemption's. Violence is rife, and it's not the sort of staged violence that reeks of fake scents, this stuff hits hard, something which Karlson was always very adept at.

The director also introduces some striking filming techniques to pump the picture with an edgy frankness. The opening sequence featuring Ernie's last fight is wonderfully staged, low angles and close ups put the sweat and pain front and centre, it's a smart set-up for when the story comes full circle at film's punchy finale. Another sequence features a panic stricken Linda begging Ernie for his help with something, the camera sticks rigidly to her, this also is a delightful set-up that has a sting in the tail. There's mirror images dropped in, scene echoes that mean something of note, one of which sees Karlson film a shot dead centre through the spread legs of Castle. So cheeky, and what a pair of legs as well!

An unsung noir full of unsung actors (Payne is excellent) and directed with cunning absorption, 99 River Street is a must see. 8/10

This is definitive film noir where the hero must prove he isn't guilty of a crime and has to deal with the thugs out to frame him and a woman who gets him into more trouble than he ever expected.

JOHN PAYNE excels as the scowling fighter who has a couple of really well-staged fight scenes with JACK LAMBERT and BRAD DEXTER, outside the ring and in the dark underworld of crime and passion.

The surprise of this low-budget thriller is EVELYN KEYES as an ambitious actress who gets Payne unknowingly involved in her attempt to land a Broadway role wherein she plays a nasty trick on him. Then, to make up for her rash behavior and poor judgment, she sticks by him when he needs a witness to prove he didn't murder his wife, played with relish by PEGGY CASTLE.

Under Phil Karlson's direction, it's all wildly unpredictable with enough sub-plots and twists to make it engrossing from start to finish. Payne was after meatier roles after leaving Fox in all of those pretty boy roles and musicals, establishing a new persona as a tough film noir hero, rugged and ready for the fight. He's excellent and so are the other players.

Keyes reveals raw acting talent of astonishing intensity, especially in the key scene where she plays a theatrical trick on him--and the viewer.

As usual, an actor who once played leading roles at Fox, GLENN LANGAN, is wasted in a minor role. FRANK FAYLEN gives his usual reliable performance as Payne's taxi driver friend.

Well worth watching if you're a film noir fan and don't mind a gritty tale that doesn't pull its punches.

I had really only been familiar with John Payne from his role in the Christmas classic "Miracle on 34th Street" and perhaps a forgettable musical or two. Naturally I was amazed at how effective he is in this dazzling, violent noir as a basically decent but brooding and extremely volatile former prize fighter reduced to driving a cab to support his beautiful, cheating wife. His acting is unflinching, unsentimental and completely authentic. He creates nearly as vivid and memorable a hard luck character as Marlon Brando did in "On The Waterfront".

The big city of this film (as presented by the marvelous and criminally under-appreciated director Phil Karlson) is a simultaneous vision of heaven and hell. Frank Faylen, Evelyn Keyes and Eddy Waller are angels, willing to do anything to protect vulnerable Payne (even mislead the police), their faith in his inherent goodness unshakeable despite his tirades and self-destructive tendencies. Brad Dexter, Peggie Castle, Jay Adler and Jack Lambert are devils; selfish, ruthless and evil to the core (although there are shadings to Castle's portrayal of the cheating wife which suggest she does feel some remorse). At one point Payne gets caught in the web of the villainous Adler, who has bigger fish to fry, and explains that he needs to be let go so he can find the man who framed him for murder. "Well, isn't that unfortunate?" Adler coldly responds before having one of his henchman conk Payne on the back of the head.

You'll have a hard time finding a better supporting cast than the one here. One of those rare movies where everyone nails their parts and comes through with a fresh, inspired take. A sly, sturdy, thrilling, consistently surprising picture.

Poor Ernie. He takes a beating in the boxing ring, and then even a bigger one from two heartless women. You can just feel his smoldering emotion about to explode like a hand grenade on that theatre stage. All those theatre types rushing around patting themselves on the back, while he stands there, the disbelieving dupe.

As the luckless boxer turned cabbie turned fall guy, Payne's great. The anguish all over his cracked face. So how's he going to get back his self-respect when he keeps getting the short end of the stick. Now he's up for a murder rap unless he can track down the slippery Rawlins (Dexter), which doesn't get any easier especially after the cagey slickster puts a bullet hole in him. Rarely have I seen a movie where the lead takes such a beating.

But what can he expect when he's got that silken tramp Peggie Castle (Pauline) for a wife. Who could trust her around any man. Too bad actress Castle died so young; she was so good in these heartless roles. Then there's Eveline Keyes as Linda who can't seem to decide which side of the fence she's on. At least as an actress Keyes could give a graduate course in how to over-act, judging from the movie's first half.

This is a typical Phil Karlson film—you can feel the characters' pain even if it is up there on the movie screen. At times, Karlson's close-ups are a stunning portrait of agony. It's noir, for sure, even if the focus is more on character than shadowy atmosphere, though there's still a lot of the latter. At times the plot gets a little confusing, but that's okay since Ernie's supposed to be up against dark forces he can barely distinguish. Anyway, it's first-rate thick- ear, showing why Karlson's considered a master of crime drama that makes us not just see but feel as well.

As in the the previous year's Kansas City Confidential, John Payne is a most put-upon protagonist. Directed by KC Confidential's Phil Karlson, and photographed in gorgeous black and white, alternately harsh and painterly, by Franz Planer, this one has Payne as a washed up prizefighter who must avenge his worthless wife's murder, not because he cared particularly for her but because he is (falsely) implicated in it. Payne has to take on a good number of unsavory characters, and proves himself if nothing else still a most able man with his fists. There's a nice feeling for fifties urban night life in this one, of a less than high class style. Karlson shows an almost Fritz Langian feeling for the traps people fall into, personal and criminal, and like Lang doesn't go much for self-pity. In the Karlson scheme of things guys get framed for things they didn't do every day, affluent crooks wear expensive overcoats and take cruises fairly regularly, while working stiffs get the wrong end of the stick every time. It takes a tough man to survive in this universe. Payne is not only tough he's so resolute and bad tempered as to make the real bad guys look like the respectable businessmen they claim to be. It's Payne Against the World in this one. Or Pain Against the World, as the character Payne plays seems to suffer as much from internal anguish as anything the villains of the piece cook up for him.