Account Rendered

Imagine you have gone to the pictures in the fifties, possibly with mum and dad. You start by seeing this little jewel of a film, then the forthcoming attractions, Pearl and Dean adverts and then Pathé News!!! Before the main feature, sit back and enjoy a choc-ice. The main film could have been....... (use your imagination). Brings it all back, doesn't it?

If only all 1 hour TV police stories made today were as well written as well acted and as well directed.

When a wealthy woman with a closet full of skeletons is murdered, there are no shortage of suspects. From a jealous husband to secret lovers, Lucille Ainsworth's death leaves the police with several paths they'll need to go down to find the killer.

Overall, Account Rendered is a decent little British mystery, but doesn't have enough gong for it to call it much more than average. While several plot twists work quite well, there are instances where the film can get a bit dull. It's all filmed in a matter-of-fact style that, while efficient, doesn't allow for much story or character development. It may have been a product of the film's age or the transfer I watched, but it's not a very good looking movie either. Drab would be the word I'd use to describe it. The movie was released in 1957 , but it looks more like 1937. Finally, Account Rendered ends with a satisfactory conclusion, which is always nice in a mystery.

Just as I described the film, I'd also call the film's group of unknown actors (well, unknown to me) "efficient". The only real name in the cast is Honor Blackman. She does fine in a small role. The standout performance is Ewen Solon as Inspector Marshall. He easily brings the most life to the proceedings.

5/10.

A cheating wife gets killed on the moors, and police find that everyone had a motive for the murder. It's a dark little mystery with well-etched characters and plenty of twist and turns to keep you guessing who the murderer is. The set up, the motives of each suspect is well-drawn, guaranteeing suspense. It's a tad melodramatic, but well-made, well-acted and absorbing.

Ursula Howells, wife of merchant banker Griffith Jones, exchanges catty remarks with Honor Blackman at a party, goes to her lover, painter John van Eyssen, to see the painting of herself she is giving to her husband on his birthday, leaves abruptly to go to Hampstead Heath. When there, she screams at the camera and soon the police are investigating her murder. There are half a dozen fine candidates in this mystery.

This 58-minute B movie is directed at such a breakneck speed by Peter Graham Scott that there is no wasted time. There's also nothing in terms of grace notes, rendering the skilled players almost superfluous. True, Harry Ross, who turns up late, gets some humor out of his three-minute turn, but that's about the limit of it.

On the other hand, the movie does play fair enough with the rules of writing a mystery; I thought I had spotted the murderer early based on structure, but turned out to be wrong. As a result, if you enjoy a mystery without much in the way of frills, this is for you. Me, I want more.

A pretty run-of-the-mill, but yet still reasonably entertaining British murder mystery, there are a few well-done bits, but not quite enough for them to really be notable. The characters, the acting and the story never rise above the ordinary, however it can at least be said that they never fall below the mark either. The special weather effects for lightning, achieved by scratching actual film, are a sight to see, even if they look quite fake. There is not much else to strongly recommend this early English film on, but if comes to television, it is perhaps worth a look. Honor Blackman would, of course, later go on to be Pussy Galore.