Johnny Nobody

The two films Nigel Patrick directed were a rum pair. For the second and final instalment he assembled a highly motley cast (fortunately including himself) at Ardmore Studios in Dublin to make this fanciful chase thriller combined with a courtroom drama in which theology is heatedly debated.

As the film progresses Patrick undergoes an extraordinary transformation from Father Brown to Richard Hannay shot on Irish locations attractively rendered in widescreen by future Bond cameraman Ted Moore. Ron Goodwin rather overeggs the score but the conclusion - which divides many critics - this viewer found satisfactory enough.

My biggest regret remains that William Bendix never got to share the screen with Bernie Winters.

JOHNNY NOBODY is a strange little movie that doesn't really gel all that well, although it proves to be quite entertaining at times. It begins with a bizarre set-piece in which an atheist rants and raves in an Irish pub, understandably upsetting the punters, before a random stranger executes him. The focus then shifts to priest Nigel Patrick (who also directs) as he investigates the killer's motives for his crime. The latter half adopts a kind of preposterous 'wronged man' template with some good suspense scenes that are the best part of the film, but then we get a ridiculous climax that must have been laughed off the screen by audiences of the era.

Bizarrely-plotted British drama with religious overtones. Set in a small southern Irish village, it starts off dramatically with William Bendix's character, a successful author, hauling himself down to the local bar where he offends the highly religious locals by loudly proclaiming his atheism to all and sundry. Someone sends for the village priest, Nigel Patrick, who attempts to calm down the blasphemer, but now riled even more, he defiantly dares God to strike him down on the spot, if He indeed exists. Cue Aldo Ray as "Johnny Nobody", who promptly steps up to shoot him, claiming amnesia and proclaiming that he was divinely inspired to do the deed.

At the ensuing trial, there's a sensation when Patrick's priest is asked on the witness stand if God could indeed have divinely intervened, causing an adjournment as the trial erupts in uproar, with it seems all the locals, including by extension, the jury, buying into the "God made me do it" defence of the accused. Taking a particularly keen interest in the case is a local female journalist Yvonne Mitchell who seems especially interested in the evidence Patrick will give when the court resumes after the weekend. But Patrick suspects there's more to this than meets the eye and decides to use the intervening 48 hours to follow up a lead arising from cryptic postcards containing Biblical quotations sent to his office, no doubt to try to influence his upcoming testimony. This leads him to a small country village and a number of scrapes, including a revelatory re-encounter with Mitchell, a run-in with a band of traveling folk and the local police on his tail as he then races back to the conclusion of the trial, where God seems to have the last word after all, or does he...?

I was intrigued by the initial premise, right up to the breakdown in the court trial, thinking the film might either continue on with a deep debate into the existence of God, like a sort of serious version of "The Man Who Sued God" or instead go the full mystery-adventure route like a good episode of later TV series like "The Avengers" or "Department S' but no such luck either way. Rather, Patrick escapes to the country to do some Father Brown-type sleuthing as the film lapses into an adventure caper, including an unlikely attempt at murder involving a galloping race-horse which makes you wonder why the perpetrator didn't just run him down in a car and the good father boarding a speeding train like that Bond fellow. As for the shocking conclusion, no doubt designed to make the contemporary viewer scratch their head and think "Well, maybe...", I must admit I found it hilariously preposterous.

Actor Patrick directs himself here, but with no real flair or imagination as he lets the story lead his camerawork and while the lead performances are all just about okay, the movie was too implausible and disjointed to do anything other than amuse me, which I know wasn't the aim.

The addition of Talking Pictures in recent years for UK and Ireland has given a platform to show many forgotten films including B features, a concept probably alien to anyone under 70, due to the format coming to an end at the 1950s.

This 1961 film is a throw back to this era. While Talking Pictures continues to unearth some gems, this sadly isn't one of them. It uses a typical UK and Irish production model of the time, to bring in an American face and plant them into the plot however odd that may seem, given the setting. Probably easier to get the film funded if through the addition of a US performer, it gives the producers the opportunity to have the finished product break into the more lucrative US market.

Here we get not one but two. While William Bendix and Aldo Ray weren't actual A listers they were reasonably well known due to audiences. Neither get much screen time and one comes away thinking they filmed their scenes over a few days while they were holidaying in Ireland.

Filmed at Ardmore in Wicklow with some filming in Dublin, and in what appears to be a local village, it at times looks like an attempt to play on the charm of John Ford's The Quiet Man, although at a minute level of that film's funding and production values. Priests, pub, comedy, Irish setting, hapless police, and the inevitable chase.

There are some of the usual Irish faces of the time, each offering up a cameo. Cyril Cusack, Niall MacGinnis, Noel Purcell, Eddie Byrne. Joe Lynch does a turn as a friendly traveler and even gets to warble through a ballad as he comes to the aid of our hapless hero, a local priest played by Nigel Patrick, who also directed.

A totally unbelievable plot and added to Patrick, there are other English actors, Yvonne Mitchell and Bernie Winters, who seem very out of place. You'd think their roles would have been better performed by other local actors, but like Bendix and Ray, perhaps a sop to British audiences. Winters, along with his brother, were a comedy act duo of the time. This is one of his handful of film appearances, and again, it's just a cameo.

As other have highlighted, the ending should be up for an award. One gets the feeling they just ran out of money and they had to wrap it up.

"Mulcahy" (William Bendix) is a bit of a stirrer. Amidst a deeply religious Irish community, he invites the wrath of god by daring the deity to strike him down. To the shock of the crowd, that's exactly what happens. Thing is, it isn't a thunderbolt - but a bullet fired from a gun by a bystander. He makes no attempt to escape, and only adds to the enigma when the police can find no clue as to his identity. He (Aldo Ray) claims amnesia - not divine intervention - and looking the gallows fairly and squarely, he has to rely on the local "Fr. Carey" (Nigel Patrick) to try to put together the pieces. I did quite like the subject matter - and as we proceed to the courtroom aspects of the plot, the writing does raise quite a few interesting questions about the role of religion - and God - in the judicial process, and these are well posed by defending counsel Niall MacGinnis to the judge (John Welsh). Sadly, though, the story hasn't quite the courage of it's potential convictions and the last twenty minutes or so fall firmly into the standard pattern of crime-noir and that rather disappoints. Still, Nigel Patrick's direction keeps it all moving along well enough and he has assembled a reliable and solid cast of familiar, and personable, faces to help this into the top tier of standard Saturday afternoon features.