The Long Wait

It's worth every minute of the long wait in order to experience one of film noir's most indelible moments. A single, unforgettable set piece - stark, surreal, sensual and sadistic in equal measure. Opening with a crane shot, Anthony Quinn and Peggie Castle, battered and bruised by brutal bad boys (Gene Evans and Bruno DeSota), with no means of escape, seem about to bid a torturous farewell to the game of life. Castle, in particular, is stunning as the used and abused moll, bloodied and beleaguered, but demonstrating unquenchable defiance...... and it's not even the climax, which, when it arrives delivers an ironic twist, prior to the movie's playful romantic joker in the final scene.

Quinn is the ultimate three time loser. Following a horrific road accident, he temporarily loses the use of his hands, loses his memory and discovering that he is a murder suspect, stands to lose his life.

Fortunately, he hasn't lost his marbles. Moreover, having a head that's emptier than a hermit's address book, strangely works in Quinn's favour, quickening his thoughts, sharpening his awareness and heightening his survival instinct. His grim, relentless determination to clear his name, break the web of corruption which is strangling the town and find the killer, leads to close involvement with beautiful women of varied repute and to the bank where he was previously employed as a teller.

A sadly neglected and under appreciated picture, of genuine weight and substance, my one minor misgiving is that so momentous a movie be marred by so mundane a moniker. Still, at least it's better than: The BIG Wait.... Just!

Girls, guns, fists, and fedoras abound in Mickey Spillane's hard-boiled yarn about an amnesiac (Anthony Quinn) who can't remember if he stole a quarter mil from his boss (a doddering Charles Coburn) or killed the town's D.A. ...not to mention the fact that his girl went and got plastic surgery, so he doesn't know who she is, either. Could it be Venus (a smoking hot Peggie Castle) or one of the other babes who swarm around the craggy Quinn like moths to a flame when he's not dodging bullets? Far-fetched fun for fans of obscure fifties noir with as much sex & violence as the Code allowed -and some of it is quite surreal, especially a bound & gagged Castle crawling across the floor as if in an S&M fever dream.

Director Saville and leading lady Castle filmed Mickey Spillane's I, THE JURY the year before (in 3D, no less) but that "Mike Hammer" mystery was more of a sucker punch thanks to Biff Elliot's powder puff PI. It's too bad he and Tony hadn't traded films...

One professional reviewer calls this film "meandering, actionless." I'd call it complex and psychological, with well-developed characters and some memorable dialog. It is quintessential film noir with a torrid romance thrown in. You have to suspend your disbelief to buy it, but you'll gladly toss it away and revel in the intensity of it's emotions and unexpected plot twists. It's not just a battle of wits with dangerous adversaries, it's a hero's quest for truth and a search for lost love. You're kept guessing as to the finish right until the end -- more importantly, you care how it ends. I saw it at least a half dozen times back in the 1950s and 60s. I'd like to see it again and discover if it's as good as I remember it -- or whether I was just a hormone-charged teenager with a crush on Anthony Quinn. ;-)

Once the dreadful title song is over this proves a surprising but welcome departure by Victor Saville into Mickey Spillane territory, which shares with 'Kiss Me Deadly' a formidable foursome of females (one of whom actually tells the hero "Oh mister! I haven't been kissed like that for a long, long time!" and a sense of humour that somewhat disqualifies it as a bona fide film noir.

Anthony Quinn (who inevitably turns out to be called "Johnny" and finds himself surrounded by guys in big suits shooting at him) gains in assurance as the film progresses back in the days before winning his first Oscar turned his head.

I see by the credits that this gem of a noir was filmed by Franz Planer, who did many classics. I've seen most of the Mickey Spillane movies, and this one has the most distinctive photography. The director Victor Saville seems to have been a better producer than a director. he also had an affinity for Mickey Spillane; he produced nearly all the Mike Hammer movies in the 1950s.

The cast is outstanding; besides the great Anthony Quinn, there are several lovely girls, the best being Peggie Castle. Even the trampy woman at the beginning who gets a rude kiss-off from Quinn plays her small part to perfection.

The doctor who treats Quinn's hands at the beginning has a familiar face. I've seen him in many TV shows as well as movies.

It's impossible to make a bad movie when you have Charles Coburn and Gene Evans backing you up.