Third Time Lucky

Dermot Walsh jumps into the cab next to Glynis Johns. He's a professional gambler whose mark thinks it's more than just luck. He decides Miss Johns is his lucky charm and hires her to be so, seemingly unaware she's in love with him. Things are wonderful for a while -- except for Walsh showing no more than professional interest in her. Then his luck turns, and resentful fellow gambler Charles Goldner starts to put the squeeze on.

I've been in love with Miss Johns -- who is scheduled to celebrate her 100th birthday six months after I write this -- for many years, for her ladylike demeanor and creaky voice for many a decade, so it's a pleasure to watch her in this movie, released when she was 26. At the same time, she seems a little too naive, even as she fully admits it in character. Walsh is a creature of superstitions that border on Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and while the movie's view of the seemingly glamorous world in which he operates is suavely realized, real professional gamblers don't make their money against other professionals; they they make it off people who aren't that good at the games they play. I'm old enough to have sat in on bridge games against the professionals, and paid them handsomely for the 'lessons.'

Still, the movie is handsomely realized by director Gordon Parry, in a sort of Gainsborough-in-modern-dress sort of way. Keep an eye open and you'll spot Helen Haye, John Stuart, Michael Hornden, and even Diana Dors in an uncredited bit.

"Third Time Lucky" is a rather predictable romance aimed primarily at women. It shows in extended flashback how Joan (Glynis Johns), a nice young lady from Finchley, comes to get incongruously mixed up with Soho gangsters and guns. A chance encounter with a debonair professional gambler called Lucky (Dermot Walsh) draws her into a glamorous and unfamiliar world of roulette, champagne, and Mayfair nightclubs. Eventually, of course, Lucky fails to merit his name - and then dear Joan finds herself in danger of going to the dogs (and I don't just mean the greyhound races).

This is a passable film on its own decidedly novellettish terms. It even features a recurring song in Ivor Novello style with the title "Forgive me for dreaming". There are melodramatic moments and the last half-hour may tax the patience.

"Are we really still in London?" Joan asks at one point. Well may she wonder. "Third Time Lucky" is less an evocation of post-war Britain than a modest attempt to replicate the high-life and low-life milieux of a certain type of American popular movie of that era. Import substitution to help the balance of the payments perhaps?

THIRD TIME LUCKY is an uneven stab at an American film noir/gangster film, made in Britain on a limited budget. The wispy-voiced Glynis Johns (VAULT OF HORROR) plays a woman who falls in love with a high-stakes gambler (played by genre regular Dermot Walsh) and gets drawn into the seedy world of gambling, gangsters, and gunfights.

Well, that's the idea, but THIRD TIME LUCKY never really takes off as a film. The pace is slow and the narrative seems to be drawn out with insipid romance scenes - this is definitely a film aimed at a female audience despite the tropes of the genre. The story never feels dangerous or exciting despite the premise and the actors are merely going through the motions too. Of all the British noir films I've watched, THIRD TIME LUCKY is one of the worst.

This is one of those movies that begins after all the action has taken place, and then is told in flashback. Hard to believe this is the same Glynis Johns who played the mother in "Mary Poppins". Her character is an young woman who seldom takes chances, and as a result has thus far led a rather uneventful life. Who does she meet, but a gambler looking for a little stability and a good luck charm. Things escalate as the gambler gets in over his head and Johns' faith in him is tested. More than half a century has passed since this was made, so it may have seemed more original then. The lead character is someone we can really pull for. There's some amusing banter between Johns' character and her roommate (who seems to get out a lot more). Some of the gamblers are your standard-issue movie thugs, and like many of the movies of this era, the two leads seem to develop a bond a bit prematurely (reminds me of Mary Astor declaring her love for Humphrey Bogart after barely knowing him in "The Maltese Falcon"). Still, this is a good yarn about believing in someone, even if it means taking some major risks.