Blackout

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.)

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!

For this period, late forties and early fifties, this kind of topic, very short, was rather interesting. Robert Baker gave it to us, among other exciting thrillers: JACK THE RIPPER, SIEGE OF SIDNEY STREET...So this one is good, no problem, taut, but if you wait a bit and watch WAIT UNTIL DARK, made in 1967, you'll quickly see the difference between those two movies. The 1967 film directed by Terence Young and also speaking of a blind lead character - Audrey Hepburn - is far far better than this one. And Henry Hathaway's 23 PACES TO BAKER STREET...But don't get discouraged, watch this one, this pretty agreeable British gem.

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.

I found BLACKOUT to be a routinely-plotted thriller with an interesting storyline. The only problem with it is that it's hampered by a relatively low budget which means there are few memorable set-pieces or exciting moments to distinguish it from other fare. It was put out by the Baker/Berman team at Tempean Films, with Baker himself directing from a script by John Gilling (who apparently never slept during this stage of his career).

The film boasts a great opening sequence which is the definite highlight. Maxwell Reed (THE CLOUDED YELLOW), suffering from temporary blindness, ends up at the wrong address and literally stumbles upon a recently-deceased corpse. You have no idea how this same scenario was used time and again in British B-films but that's because it's a good one. The murderers are still on the scene but, learning of his disability, decide to let him live. He's discovered the next day but of course the police don't believe his story and there's no trace of the murder.

Sadly the film shifts down a gear after this point. Reed regains his sight and becomes the ordinary amateur detective, trying to solve the murder and bring down the criminal gang. I would have preferred him to remain blind throughout and have Dinah Sheridan's love interest acting as his eyes as this would have made for a more unusual and thrilling production. I suppose that would have been too outside the box. Still, the running time is short and the pace is fast, both of which are good things, and the requisite twists and turns of the plot keep you watching.

There's a nice little set-piece in a posh apartment complex involving the concierge, Reed breaking into a room to commit a robbery, and a couple of thugs on his tail. It plays out very nicely. BLACKOUT also benefits from a decent cast. Reed isn't my favourite leading man from this period but he's decent enough here. Sheridan is as classy as ever. Kynaston Reeves plays a crotchety old fellow while Annette Simmonds is an effective gangster's moll-type character. Eric Pohlmann is the slimy villain and the great but underrated Michael Brennan his brutal thug. Ronald Leigh-Hunt and Michael Balfour have cameos, but although Sam Kydd is listed on the IMDb cast page, I failed to spot him this time.