The Stranger Came Home

Most of the other reviews here rate this rather low, and say it's a poor example of film noir. Well I agree, it isn't great film noir. But it IS a very good mystery film. It's based on the novel "Stranger At Home" by George Sanders, which was actually ghost-written by acclaimed author Leigh Brackett. And the film is an amazingly faithful adaptation of the book.

The main character was probably written with Sanders in mind, but William Sylvester (best known for "2001: A Space Odyssey") is excellent in the role of the stranger who came home. This is not a must-see film, but definitely worth checking out if you have the opportunity.

A man with a rather unfortunate haircut shows up after being missing for three years. Turns out he had amnesia due to a blow on the head and has just recently recovered his memory. He confronts his wife and his friends, convinced one of them tried to kill him three years earlier. On the same night he returns, one of his friends winds up murdered and bad haircut guy is the prime suspect.

Talky, mostly dull mystery from Hammer with the added appeal of having Paulette Goddard in it. This is called a film noir by some but frankly I don't see it. Sometimes it seems every movie involving murder or sex from the '40s and '50s is labeled film noir. There has to be a more specific meaning than that. For me there is and this doesn't fit my definition. Anyway, the biggest draw to this is Paulette Goddard. She's fine, as is the rest of the cast, but nothing to write home about. She was in her forties at this time and still looked good but that is NOT her on the movie poster and DVD cover. She does not appear in this movie scantily clad in lingerie. Sorry! Oh, and for some reason they tried to pass this off as being written by the actor George Sanders, when it was actually written by Leigh Brackett. Not sure why the deception. Were audiences in 1954 really craving George Sanders or something?

IMDb's contributors are correct. Actor George Sanders actually "wrote" two crime novels: "Crime on My Hands" (1944) was published under his name and is actually written in the first person. He even mentions some of his films. "Stranger at Home" (sic) followed in 1946. In actual fact, of course, the novels merely served to give Sanders added publicity. He wrote neither. The first was ghost written by Craig Rice, and the second by none other than Leigh Brackett. I've read neither but if the DVD of "The Unholy Four" is anything to go by, "Stranger at Home" presented an intriguing premise but little reader involvement. Certainly it's hard to get over-enthused by the film. The script is weighed down with talk, the direction is stolidly routine, and Paulette Goddard will disappoint her fans. She's neither clothed nor photographed to advantage. Admittedly, a couple of good performances saved the day. I always enjoy Russell Napier. I can usually take or leave Paul Carpenter, but in this case he delivers the best acting in the film. All the same, a movie in which Paul Carpenter shines is not exactly my idea of an engrossing film noir.

English suspense film with a very solid British cast, along with lone American Paulette Goddard. Sylvester, Maben, and Napier are all quite good, but it's Goddard who doesn't quite fill her characters larger than life shoes. She plays Angie, a woman all the men in the film seem to love and adore, as well as Maben's Joan, who is completely devoted to Angie. Goddard is fine but is unable to create a character of great wit, dynamism, beauty, or uniqueness to make such admiration from everyone even remotely plausible. This unfortunately undercuts large parts of the story. The direction is also a bit pedestrian and lacks vision. Despite the many flaws and weaknesses, The Unholy Four is not without suspense was still mildly entertaining.

I watched "The Unholy Four" (the US title) because it stars Paulette Goddard. She was absolutely brilliant in 'Modern Times" (1936) and a few other films. Unfortunately, this is not one of them.

This is one of those the-butler-did-it-in-the-parlor-with-a-candlestick high society dramas that might actually be improved if the dialog were just a radio play. Then you would have to fill in the blanks with your imagination instead of being subjected to really uninteresting visuals.

The film begins with a somewhat high-concept premise typical of the time. A man (William Sylvester) returns to a fancy mansion (yes, it's that kind of film, all drawing-room talk and men dressed in tuxedos) coincidentally on the night of a big party where everyone essential to the plot is conveniently present. People who knew him tend to faint (very unconvincingly, Paulette I'm looking at you) when they see him, but he transitions back into his old life at warp speed. Turns out (this takes an ungodly long time to be revealed) he was lost at sea while fishing with "friends." Apparently, someone hit him on the head to help matters (and this is never shown and must be assumed from random clues). However, he survived as an amnesiac for three or four years (the script is a little hazy on precise details, apparently he lost his memory for three years but was gone for four for some reason). Sure, happens all the time.

After a fairly interesting start, the film quickly devolves into a standard "who tried to kill him" scenario, with additional dead bodies popping up to liven the proceedings. I'll give the author (not George Sanders) credit, it dishes out its share of red herrings, though you won't believe any of them. The last fifteen minutes is actually fairly good, with a suspenseful and satisfying conclusion.

The problem is the dreary hour it takes to get to that conclusion. Although Goddard gets prominent billing as the "star" (hey, can we make the titles any bigger?) the story actually revolves around the guy who suddenly shows back home to throw a spanner in the works. Goddard's character just does standard "surprised but then loyal wifey" stuff. Sylvester is given little to work with, and he dutifully does little with it (his hair stylist should have gotten the billing, not him).

People love to say that British actors are always phenomenal, but I didn't see any of that. Sylvester basically sleepwalks through the film until the climax, but it's not really his fault - he's given little to work with. The others are just random asteroids floating around him. They do say their lines with great enunciation, however.

The real problem with the film is that Goddard doesn't even show up until 13 minutes in, and after that she also is given little to do. Instead, we get repeated snarky interludes between Sylvester's character and his colorless former best buds. He has the typical "red herring" antisocial attitude of someone who's a little too obvious as the "bad guy." You know right from the start didn't do what others think he did (he becomes a suspect of nefarious doings himself) because he tries too damn hard to make himself look suspicious. In short, Goddard looks pedestrian, the other women look dull and uninteresting, the men walk around saying pompous things with snide inflections.... quite simply, nothing interesting happens.

Charles Napier is the only remotely believable character as the policeman investigating the entire situation, but his character only appears now and then and strangely seems only vaguely interested in the reasons behind Sylvester's absence for four years. Paul Carpenter as one of the suspects helps at times but certainly can't carry the picture.

I found the direction pedestrian, the acting rote, the wardrobes blah (especially Goddard's), and the setting uninteresting. Everyone seems determined to show as little real emotion as possible, doling it out like water when a group is stranded in the desert. The ending is good, but not enough to warrant sticking through this.

It's okay to have on in the background while you're doing something else. Listen in, maybe glance at the screen when Paulette is talking, and so on. Just don't expect much. Tune in for that ending, and pat yourself on the back for figuring it all out halfway through.