The Blue Parrot

This was one of several second features made by the technicians' union the ACT. From a story by Daily Express Crime Correspondent Percy Hoskins, it was to be one of the last films of director John Harlow, praised for some of his 1940's work, but whose career fizzled out. The Blue Parrot is a shady Soho nightclub of the type where a bottle of champagne with one of the hostesses can set you back £10.00, a lot of money in 1953. Then one of its disreputable clientèle is murdered.

This has all the classic ingredients of British thrillers of the time, including a nightclub with the inevitable Ferdy Mayne advising that "it's not healthy to ask too many questions in Soho" an avuncular but no-nonsense senior policeman (Ballard Berkeley) and his plucky undercover operative (Jacqueline Hill). Oh yes, and a tough American hero. Except it's not a real American but the usually dependable Dermot Walsh, who acts as if he's on speed for half of the time and is fairly ridiculous. It's hard to figure out his purpose, surely not a vain attempt to encourage distribution across the Atlantic, where his performance would only invite derision. By contrast Ballard Berkeley is a natural as the senior police officer which is why he played so many of them and Jacqueline Hill shows some of the intelligence and strength of character that she brought a decade later to her celebrated role as Barbara Wright in the early years of DOCTOR WHO. Then there's John Le Mesurier as the Blue Parrot's inscrutable proprietor who supposedly rides a high-powered motor bike; it's fun to imagine this most urbane of actors actually doing this. So not bad entertainment for fans of this kind of movie.

One of the perks of the 'B' movie is that occasionally it gives a leading role to an actor one would not otherwise have associated with movies. Ten years before the role for which she is remembered in the original cast of 'Dr Who' the late Jacqueline Hill as Sgt. Maguire of the Metropolitan Police (sadly we never see her in uniform) infiltrates a Soho populated by low-lifes like spiv Ferdy Mayne (who has a vindictive high maintenance mistress amusingly played by Valerie White) and shady nightclub proprietor John LeMesurier. The latter shares the screen at one point with The Major from 'Fawlty Towers', back in the days when the police computer looks more like a loom than a machine for retrieving information.

It isn't for nothing this film has such a low score and, although it might have some academic interest to see some early British actors who later achieved greater fame, it has no intrinsic value to justify more than ten minutes watching it.

The script and direction are virtually non-existent and all the acting (except Richard Pearson) is dire.

The use of an American character, who has no reason to exist other than to attract American budget money, is absurdly not played by an American, and would be scoffed at by American audiences - even more so than Dick van Dyke was in 'Mary Poppins', by British audiences.

And this ersatz 'American' is the worst part of the film. The second worst part is that we have no concern or sympathy for the murdered victim, and wonder why Scotland Yard would even be interested - let alone the FBI as well. One would think this was the only murder the police had had that month.

But the most unbelievable aspect of 'The Blue Parrot' is that anybody in the British film industry at that time would have believed they had a winner on their hands.

Finally, just look at the 2-wall sets: the foyer of the club, for example... and the 1-wall corridor outside 'Annie Oakley's' room...

There is no worthwhile reason to consider viewing this film.

IMHO...

THE BLUE PARROT is one of those innumerable British attempts at a film noir/murder mystery that flooded cinemas during the 1950s. These were always second rate features that suffered hugely from a lack of budget and scripts that seem to have been written overnight or with the dialogue simply made up on the spot.

This one's set in and around the titular nightclub, although with about half a dozen extras it's hardly a buzzing place. There's not even a sense of mystery or surprise, instead THE BLUE PARROT just goes through the motions and has a sense of weary familiarity to it from the start. I note that director John Harlow's career finished soon afterwards - he may have simply been considered too old-fashioned - as did the career of the guy who came up with the story, while the dialogue writer died within a couple of years. Bad luck or what?

The main acting role goes to Irish star Dermot Walsh, coming across as a very unconvincing American. Ballard Berkeley (FAWLTY TOWERS) is better as the investigating detective, although he must have been able to play this kind of role in his sleep. John Le Mesurier is on hand in a mildly sinister role - although anything is better than his attempt at an Italian character in the following year's DANGEROUS CARGO - and there's a minor turn from Ferdy Mayne too. THE BLUE PARROT's still rubbish, though.

Victor Lucas has a lot of money for a glorified cab driver. When he's murdered and the safe he has in his flat is found to have been broken into and emptied, Scotland Yard, in the person of Ballard Berkeley investigates, with visiting Yankee copper Dermot Walsh (sporting one of those sourceless accents the British think American) goes undercover to investigate the seedy and customer-free Blue Parrot bar.

It's a pretty poor example of British crime drama, with Berkeley droning his lines, Walsh's accent variable, and pretty Jacqueline Hill as whatever the Brits call a b-girl. Shot flatly by cinematographer Robert Navarro, there's very little to recommend this bog-standard B movie. John Le Mesurier tries his best as the foreboding club owner, but it becomes apparent early on that figuring out what racket the bar is fronting for is the point of the movie, and by the time it was revealed, I didn't care.