Una rosa bianca per Giulia

Where Danger Lives was supposed to launch Faith Domergue's career as yet another of Howard Hughes's discoveries. Beauty she had with a good dose of slink eyed attractiveness that stood her in good stead in her role in this film. In support Hughes gave her RKO's number one leading man, Robert Mitchum and a good cast in support.

Mitchum plays a doctor here who falls big time for Domergue the minute she gives him a come all glance. Problem is that she's slightly married to Claude Rains a rich older guy who's kind of used to her philandering, but not thrown in front of his face. Which is what she does with Mitchum and when Mitchum struggles with Rains he thinks that he's killed Rains. So Bob and Faith go on the run.

A respected doctor and society woman you wouldn't think are good candidates to be fugitives. But they do all right for themselves up to a point despite many people looking to take advantage of them. My favorite is Tol Avery as one bottom feeding used car salesman with a most annoying laugh.

They also do all right considering Domergue is not playing with a full deck, I think a whole suit of thirteen is missing from her 52. Add to that Mitchum has an untreated concussion which also slows them up a bit.

Where Danger Lives is a decent noir film from the studio that made noir a fashionable genre. Too bad Claude Rains had to be killed right away, any film is made better with his presence. Director John Farrow's wife Maureen O'Sullivan has a brief part as a good girl Mitchum deserts for Domergue. Of course if Faith gives you the come on few could resist.

According to the Lee Server biography of Robert Mitchum, the fall down a flight of stairs you see Mitchum do was really him and not a stuntman. Normally studios protect the high profile derrières of their stars, but when you've John Farrow directing who may have been the biggest directorial swine in Hollywood it's different. Farrow would challenge Mitchum's masculinity and that wasn't something Bob would back down from. But one take was definitely it.

Where Danger Lives is a nice one from Mitchum's RKO salad days.

I'm a noir fan but I never even heard of this picture until I bought the DVD noir collection it came in. As a result I wasn't expecting much and so I wasn't disappointed. It is a pretty pedestrian film which borders on tedious too often, and is more of a psychological melodrama rather than a straightforward film noir.

I always liked Robert Mitchum but he's trapped in a thankless part here - It's very unlike him to be buffaloed by a pretty skirt and his persona never lent itself to roles as cerebral as a doctor. He was, of course, a man of action and seems out of his element in this picture. I don't agree with those reviewers who hammered Faith Domergue - I thought she played her part well and I can't think of anyone who could have milked it any better than she did. A little more of Claude Rains could have helped matters but he got killed off in his only scene early on.

No telling what this movie was when first released - a weak 'A' or a better-than-average 'B'- but, as is, it's a passable effort by a director who has some pretty good films to his credit. I liked "Alias Nick Beal" and "The Big Clock", speaking for myself. It's just that this one could have been so much better.

All in all, it's worth a look but is not an important film or a noteworthy entry in Mitchums' career.

'A few hours ago I felt on top of the world. Look at me now'

John Farrow's film is one of a small number of interesting noir thrillers the director helmed during the late 40's and early 50's. Included amongst these productions are the bizarre comedy of ‘His Kind of Woman' (1951) also with Mitchum, and the magnificently baroque ‘The Big Clock' (1948), with Ray Milland. ‘Where Danger Lives', a powerful, dream-like piece, has some claim to being the best of these, being respectively less diffuse and grandiose than the other two films. Its strengths lay elsewhere, still founded upon the characteristic insecurities of film noir, but dwelling explicitly on the processes of mental aberration. This successfully induces an unusually strong atmosphere of hallucination - in effect replacing paranoia with psychosis.

Only at the end of the film does the dazed hero realise that he has really been ‘dating the patient' – the deranged Margo. Thematically this respect it is similar to Otto Preminger's ‘Angel Face' (1953) and Brahm's intricate ‘The Locket' (1947), again both starring Mitchum. In all three films the actor confronts femmes fatales with hidden psychological disorders, illnesses of the mind which serve to internalise and, to a certain extent, symbolise the confusions of the noir universe. In this film however, his character is himself mentally confused through concussion, adding a perspective of further disorientation. ‘I may be seem to be talking logically' says Dr. Jeff Cameron (Mitchum) at one point. ‘But what I say won't make any sense'.

At the beginning of ‘Where Danger Lives', Cameron is a man clearly in control of himself, his career, and his love life. Given the concern of the film with health and well-being, it is eminently logical that he should be a doctor (although not a psychiatrist, as Margo's first husband makes a point of establishing). His presence in the hospital is commanding, authoritative even, his future clear. The ebbing away of these keystones to his life - in effect an emasculation after encountering the suicidal Margo - is drastic and troubling. At first he is merely slowed by his own inebriation, then confused by her deceit. This is followed shortly afterwards by the head blow by her outraged husband (played by Claude Rains in his most typically urbane, menacing style), which creates a more profound effect on his mental capabilities.

This is a film dominated by Margo and Jeff on the road, and their crazed relationship to each other. Jeff's concussion and resulting moral confusion, and Margo's hidden psychosis, make them ideal partners in the bewildering and uncertain world through which they travel. Jeff's mental distraction makes him passive, vulnerable, while Margo's compulsions make her determined, wiley and strong. Ultimately it is this distortion in their relationship, in some respect a reversal of the usual sex roles, which gives the film so much of its intrigue. Once Margo and Jeff have found each other, in fact, they play on the same ‘mad' circuit, hurtling towards a crash, like the racers which stunned Jeff visualises buzzing ‘up and down' in his head.

Farrow's direction follows the trajectory of events perfectly. At the start of the film, he shoots Mitchum's tall frame framed within the cold certainties of hospital hallways, uncluttered and unshadowed. By the end of the film he is slumped, hidden and confused within shadowy hotel rooms, or stumbling along dark sidewalks. In between times, Farrow is able to enjoy himself with the surreal episode of the beards festival, (a peculiarly bizarre moment even in the extreme experiences of noir) which works well in the context of the runaway's own mental disorientation.

The most powerful scene in the film is the penultimate confrontation of Jeff and Margo in the border hotel. Shot in one continuous take, Farrow effortlessly manages a number of complicated set ups within the frame as the two protagonists confront each other, and their reduced options, while moving around the set. Margo's final attack on Jeff, her attempted smothering of him (as she had done to her first husband much earlier) is so frightening because Mitchum's big frame is now so handicapped and reduced. Close to the Mexican border, Cameron is also close to unconsciousness, coma, and possibly death as well. The cheap hotel room, the broad, the flashing window sign, the rising tide of panic with a departing prospect of ‘escape' - these are all of course entirely typical of the genre. But by the time we reach this scene it is obvious too that, here at least, real danger lives as much in the head as in the world of police and shady border deals.

I taped Where Danger Lives when BBC 2 screened it in the early hours recently.

A doctor and patient fall in love with each other, the doctor not aware of her being a mad woman. After he thinks he kills her husband by accident, they go on the run and head for Mexico but face plenty of obstacles on their way including a car crash and getting caught up in a small town's carnival of some sort. It's here where they get married and eventually, we learn what really happened to the woman's husband...

Shot well in black and white, this movie is fast paced and very atmospheric throughout, helped by the music score.

Joining the great Robert Mitchum (Night of the Hunter, Cape Fear) in the cast are Faith Domergue (This Island Earth, It Came From Beneath the Sea), Claude Rains (The Wolf Man, The Invisible Man) and Maureen O'Sullivan (Jane from some of the Weismuller Tarzan movies).

See this if you get the chance. Brilliant.

Rating: 4 stars out of 5.

This peculiar excursion is skillfully shot by Nick Musuraca in the dark black and white nature of the genre in its era, and is capably helmed by John Farrow, who fruitfully captures these delirious visions. It's by and large a character study of an accomplished man blinded by lust, whose life disintegrates as it falls behind him. Mitchum is the guiltless man who is entrapped, but doesn't understand he's innocent until quite late. Too late? Only the will to live in spite of being so far out of his comfort zone and his senses can save him from this interesting spin on the framed-for-murder predisposition of the formula.

Mitchum, as was his modus operandi, once again put on airs of sleepy-eyed detachment and barrel-chested reserve, but in this case, he is interesting and sympathetic, realistically showing how a smart guy and such an experienced doctor could be in such a weak position. He genuinely and believably connects to the emotional and sensory reality of his bewildered character, whose feelings and senses are constantly in flux. Likewise, director John Farrow effectively taps the outlandish, hallucinatory traits in this customary noir plot: Mitchum spends the last half of the film barreling down the dirt roads of southern California with a concussion, fainting cyclically and awakening enclosed by some of the murkiest landscape the U.S. has to present.

Yes, Mitchum is cast against type as a stable professional, but actually, I think Faith Domergue is equally if not more accountable for the lack of artifice in Mitchum's performance than he is. From moment to moment, and this is most definitely a movie that lives in the present, she genuinely affects him. They're not just saying lines at one another, overlapping their words and movements with some programmed, bottled manner. The sultry, manic, hard-bitten, shifty-eyed edge is real. What's more, Claude Rains as always is superb, in a small role but a pretty important one, where his every motion looks to be controlled over a maniacal wrath all set to gush out, best illustrated by his malicious grin while meeting his wife's lover. And the film's a pleasingly bizarre screwball streak further sets it apart as a unique entry in the film noir canon.