Blackout

It starts out very promising with a bland blind man walking towards a moving camera and thinking out his rather wooden thoughts but the viewer is quickly undeceived – it's another low budget film from Baker & Berman. This is proto-Saint, except it has robotic Maxwell Reed playing a cold hard-boiled engineer unable to mind his own business. Along with his fanatical sleuthing he also shared a high-rise coiffure with Roger Moore.

When blind he's a er witness to a murder, after his sight is restored he's eventually convinced he actually did stumble across a foul deed and goes on a convoluted chase after the baddies. And there turns out to be a lot of 'em too, the film gets littered with corpses of the murdered variety. Outside of Leslie Charteris and Peter Cheyney this is the kind of thing Americans always did best, seventy years later gunplay is still pretty rare in the UK…so far. Also they were always better at B films too, British B films merely looked like they were made by children. And Americans will always be better at American accents. At least Dinah Sheridan was in here as dependable as ever as the hero's backup, while there are so many other familiar faces at their day jobs too – crusty Kynaston Reeves, sweaty Eric Pohlmann, lumpy Michael Brennan, and Patric Doonan, Campbell Singer to name a few. As well as the vanished faces and morals a vanished Britain is also beautifully on display, with some occasionally nice photography. But is the film any good? Well no, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Could I recommend it to anyone? Well no, but hopefully I'll watch it again sometime just to make sure.

Blackout is an excellent example of early 50s British crime thrillers. The unfairly neglected Maxwell Reed stars as Chris Pelly, a blind man who literally falls into a murder mystery. Pelly regains his sight after an operation and then sets about unraveling the aforementioned mystery. Forget the negative comments made about this film and about Maxwell Reed, it is an extremely entertaining film and Reed is very good as the wise-cracking hero. The producers of this film went on to produce Roger Moore's series The Saint and this film is almost like a dry run for that production. Reed lacks Moore's charisma, but he has a nice way with the one-liners and he looks good, always a bonus in films such as these. Blackout is available on DVD and is worth a few quid of anyone's money. Several other Maxwell Reed films are now also available on DVD and some of them are really good .... There Is Another Sun, Daughter Of Darkness, The Square Ring and Marilyn and all highly recommended.

I really enjoyed this film by the duo of Robert S Baker & Monty Berman.They cast the handsome devil Maxwell Reed (Chris Pelly), once married to Joan Collins, as a latter day James Bond type figure and an engineer, recovering from temporary blindness and quintessential English rose actress, Dinah Sheridan as a Miss Moneypenny type figure.This actress always seemed to be cast in intelligent roles.Surprisingly she had a Russian father & German mother.There were some Bond like quips such as Dinah (Pat Dale) saying to Reed, "You're a bit of a nosey Parker" and Reed responding, "Call me Parker" when the leads were establishing their credentials to each other at the beginning of the film.Dinah again demonstrated she can drive the same gull winged Triumph sports car as seen in the Tempean twin film "NO Trace" 1950, by the same production company.

Michel Brennan again played his usual "heavy" role.I again marvelled having seen "No Trace" at the blissfully traffic free roads and free parking around London.I noticed at one point Dinah was frustrated making a telephone call because another person had occupied the red GPO box first and unfortunately, mobile phones had not yet been invented in 1950!I thought "Chalky" the aero engineer was going to be a good guy until he gave the baddies a tell tale sign by a torch flash, noticed by Chris Pelly.A topical event was the electric blackout forcing householders to use candles or other illuminating devices until the electric company restored power.I remember my father doing this in the early 50s (I am 65) as Britain got on her feet and was starting to use more electric domestic power.This blackout, which gives the film its name, gave Chris Pelly an advantage using his other senses over chief baddie Eric Pohlmann.

Less worthy were the fake American accents used by some of the characters for no apparent reason. I presume the producers had been heavily influenced by seeing American gangster movies.There is a surprise character which appears towards the end which explains the whole plot, confirming my earlier suspicions.Enjoyable I voted 7/10.

Many thanks to the other reviewers who have clued us in that Maxwell Reed, leading man of Blackout, was attempting to put on an American accent. Yours truly and the grouchy old wife were speculating on what nationality he was -- perhaps Canadian. His lingo didn't sound like any of the usual British accents, yet he certainly did not sound like an American of any known species. Actually there is no one "American" accent, but at least two dozen distinct dialects. My home state of Texas can account no less than six regional variations on the "Taxsun" dialect, which some people think should be regarded as a separate language -- especially damn Yankees who have recently relocated here. But I digress. Reed's attempt to sound like an American, if that is really what he was trying to do for whatever reason, was quite pathetic. He just sounded like and Irishman with a bad head cold.

No one would ever mistake Maxwell Reed or any other Britisher for an American. Yours truly and the grouchy old lady, as we watch these quota quickies and other British productions, always marvel at how this bunch speaks English, yet is no more like us Americans than Italians or Spaniards or Croats. There can't be any other race anywhere as wooden as the British. Stiff upper lip? They're stiff from head to toe! You have to wonder how they know when it's time to bury one of them. And Maxwell Reed was surely one of the stiffest of the stiff! In no scene of Blackout can he be detected moving any of his facial muscles more than one sixteenth of an inch. Leading lady of Blackout, Dinah Sheridan was not far behind. How does a director direct them to act when none of them would show any more emotion for a hurricane than for a hangnail? Not to say that there were not excellent British actors. But most of them, such as Ronald Coleman, David Niven, Merle Oberon, Greer Garson and Herbert Marshall, were usually to be found in Hollywood. If Reed and Ms. Sheridan had ever relocated to that land of big productions and high salary, it is unlikely either would have ever risen much above the level of bit player.

Not that we don't enjoy the occasional product of fair Albion's cinema. For all its shabby production values and bland acting, Blackout was not such a bad little crime thriller. Pacing was a bit of a problem. Everything rolled along at a continuous breakneck speed with no chance to catch your breath or reflect on the doings. Perhaps they were afraid of running out of film. The score was just background music which did little to enhance the drama or action and was quite irritating at times. However, the cinematography, as with most of these Brit pence-pinchers, was very decent, while the story and the action kept your attention. Enjoyable if you are in the right mood -- and keep a stiff upper lip!

A blind man stumps by mistake into a murder and, as he doesn't know who, why or where, nobody believes him. The premise is interesting, but from there on the film spirals down and rapidly acquires a US made Republic Serial flavor, where the hero is again and again stupidly putting himself in trouble with the baddies but luckily --as the baddies aren't that clever either-- saving his neck every time. The hero breaks and enters and breaks and enters, and he is so lucky --did I mention he is lucky?-- that he not only survives but twice he easily finds decisive clues that the baddies --did I mention they weren't clever?-- left carelessly around for him to find. Everything but going to the police; obviously, that would be too absurd. We all know that amateur detectives are always much more competent than Scotland Yard's trained detectives. To help, all the time Reed is walking around with a marmoreal face that seems to scream: "look how handsome I am". Perhaps to compensate all his beauty, the female lead is quite plain and, in the final take, she looks downright ugly. I had much higher expectations, especially being this a British film. (Perhaps I was so predisposed because the most recent British film of that era I watched was "Obsession"... and that is entirely another matter.)