Deadly Nightshade

Emrys Jones is arrested for being an escaped prisoner. He isn't, but when the police finally release him and drop him off at home, the real escapee (played, conveniently enough, by Jones) shows up and takes over the life of the other guy.

But wait! There's more! There's some sort of accident and the usual harrumphing retired colonel and his wife are sequestered on Jones, as is Zena Marshall, who just so happens to be the escaped man's ex-fiancee!

At time it's seems as if about one in five movies involves an actor (or actress) playing identical twins, whether actual twins or doppelgangers. As the film slogs on -- and it does seem to bog down under the steady stream of coincidences -- various plot twists come into operation to make the version of Jones who started out as the bad guy the good guy, and vice versa. However, to be frank, I didn't care.

What a fine leading man Emrys Jones was, in this well-scripted and gripping suspense thriller, where he plays two characters who resemble one another. As usual with identity swaps in such films, the unsuspecting fellow finds himself in a much worse mess than the one he left. There is something hypnotic about Jones's quiet, melancholy, and brooding under-playing of both roles. This is what you could call 'a taut little British film', positively reeking of the atmosphere of early 1950s Britain with its stone sinks, tweed jackets, polite policemen, pinta bitter, wide boys, loving looks with few words (no slobbery kisses, no clinches), self-control of manner, and looming sense of 'bigger things out there' which sometimes intrude on a chap's quiet country cottage. Joan Hickson plays an annoying part-time housekeeper with the correct angle of sniff. A jolly good show all round, no doubt of that.

The world's in turmoil in the early years of nuclear weapons and the cold war. The uncertainty and insecurity is reflected in every aspect of life, from personal relationships to one's very identity. An escaped convict thinks he has found security by taking on another man's identity (whoops, another dead body) but then finds the new identity has a murky past which threatens to engulf him in international espionage. Trust, recognition, sincerity, love and respect are all thrown in doubt. It's a snapshot of 1950's high anxiety, with plenty of unexpected twists.

Watch out for the minor role of the garrulous housekeeper played by Joan Hickson, later to become a wonderful Miss Marple in many Agatha Christie mysteries.

Talk about frying pans and fires, this British slice of intrigue proves a heckofa jump. Actor Jones plays a dual role, first as an escaped criminal (Barlow), second as a country gentleman (Mathews). Barlow seeks out his double, Mathews, hoping he can impersonate him to escape the law. But can he, there are so many little tip-offs to give his phony act away. Then too, threatening ironies abound, especially when a ship explodes off-shore. For an hour run-time, it's a complex storyline, probably too much, especially with the foreign agent subplot. Nonetheless, the suspense is compelling, while Jones delivers a really understated turn that serves to emphasize the twists and turns. But you may need a scorecard to keep up with all the men in suits who come and go. At the same time, nobody is paricularly likable, including Barlow and Mathews and the suits. That's always a risk for a commercial product, one that Hollywood seldom took, its audience then having no one to root for. So, a pat on the back for the Brits. Anyway, it's a fairly nifty little import, unpredictable and atmospheric, with dialogue my American ears could understand. (In passing-- to me Jones bears a strong facial resemblance to American Kirk Douglas, while luscious actress Zena Marshall could pass for a British-style Ava Gardner. See what you think.)

Most old 'B' movies contain plot twists that could be science fiction. Since it's unlikely that anybody researching British 'B' pictures of the fifties is familiar with seventies Eastern European sci-fi it's not giving much away that the only other film in which I've seen the extraordinary development in this particular tale was in a zany Czech movie called 'Tomorrow I'll Scald Myself with Tea' made nearly a quarter of a century later.