O Perseguido

Charles McGraw and Joan Dixon face a "Roadblock" in this 1951 film also starring Milburn Stone of "Gunsmoke" fame and Lowell Gilmore. McGraw is Joe Peters, an insurance detective who meets a beautiful, sexy woman, Diane, while traveling home by airplane after a case. The whole airplane thing was interesting in itself - spouses could fly half-price, I guess (as the Dixon character claims she and Joe are married so she can do so - she didn't have to show ID either). And though it still happens, it's less common to board from outdoors today.

Joe falls hard for Diane, but she isn't interested - he's not in her league. She wants someone who will spend big money on her. One night, Joe sees her in a club where he's on an investigation, and she's with the biggest mobster in town, Kendall Webb (Gilmore). Eventually, Joe's and Diane's passion get the better of them. Webb warns Joe that Diane's enamored state of being in love with a poor man is just temporary - once the bloom is off, she'll go for the money again. Joe decides to go into partnership with Webb and steal $1.4 million that's scheduled to be on a train.

McGraw, who had a big career in television until a few years before his death in 1980, is a solid noir actor - tough and good-looking. The character of Diane, however, is the one to watch. Dixon, helped by the script, gives her many layers and leaves you wondering (though you do know the answer) - was she a big chiseler or did she really care?

"Roadblock" is good and interesting if implausible - Joe gets himself in deeper and deeper. It's hard to believe he would turn that dramatically that quickly. It's a minor point in a way because it's still an atmospheric noir.

This is a typical film noir of the period and , in my opinion, this is no bad thing. It follows all the typical patterns of a hundred other B-movies of a similar type of it's day. Shadowy photography, good man laid low by the femme fatale, a few seedy gangsters thrown in, all the ingredients are there. If you're not a big fan of noir then you might switch off after 30 minutes exclaiming that "I've seen it all before", and you'd be right. Personally I love the genre and thought this was a competently made movie with good performances by the leading actors. McGraw is perfect as the law-abiding detective seduced into lawlessness by the siren of the piece (Dixon).

If you like film noir check ROADBLOCK out. If you don't then maybe this movie's not for you.

Drop a laurel wreath on Charles McGraw's huge, sculptural head – you can almost see it in the Greco-Roman wing of a museum, perched atop a pedestal. He was one of the noir cycle's most serviceable pieces of furniture, along with Raymond Burr and Elisha Cook, Jr. Most often he lurked in the murky background, but sometimes, most memorably in The Narrow Margin, he stayed front and center. He also shuttled uncomplainingly between the underworld and the keepers of law and order. Starring in Roadblock, he tries to straddle both worlds.

This no-frills noir opens with a tease: McGraw stages a murder, then abducts a witness whom he manipulates into buying his way out of certain death with the loot from a bank job. But the movie is setting up McGraw as a straight-arrow insurance investigator who'll stop at nothing to achieve his goal.

Until he crosses paths with Joan Dixon, that is. A crafty gold-digger, she finds him sweet but `honest;' she's saving her sexual artillery for more affluent game, which she finds in a smooth racketeer (Lowell Gilmore). But McGraw can't get her out of his blood and, knowing that furs and jewels are the path to her mercenary heart, strikes up a deal with the mobster. He offers him a million-and-a-quarter, insured by his company, which he knows will be traveling by train; if Gilmore pulls the job off, McGraw will settle for $400 grand.

The irony – and the script's least convincing turn – is that Dixon falls for McGraw anyway and renounces her grasping ways. (Not only does this ring false, it also makes her far less arresting a character.) Despite second thoughts, McGraw gets his share of the take. Then, naturally, he's assigned to the team of investigators trying to crack the case....

Harold Daniels, who had a brief and largely undistinguished career as both actor and director, keeps the action swift and simple – it races down an hour-plus of highway until it reaches its titular roadblock. The movie goes down as easily and satisfyingly as a hot dog and a beer.

Billed as the story of an insurance investigator who goes crooked to please his femme fatale but there the similarity with "Double Indemnity" ends.

No twists or turns, no subtleties, this story is told as it is. A plain straightforward account that becomes almost predictable as the plot slowly unwinds from one situation to the next inevitable one. Nevertheless it's good yarn and well worth seeing. Better than your average B film. The outdoor footage gives a good impression of LA circa 1950. Ends with a thrilling police car chase on the LA river(?) and the villain ? ....... we'll you'll have to see it yourself.

Charles McGraw was not the typical film noir sap. Shrewd, decisive, granite-jawed and gravel-voiced; his fall into darkness is sometimes hard to stomach - it's more like a plunge. He's disgusted with himself for having the same lousy weaknesses as all the shlubs he's investigated. And when his transformation is complete and his every thought and action is ruled by his mushrooming greed and lust, his hitting rock bottom is like a small earthquake. You wait for the aftershocks.

This is a modest crime film that comes at the tail end of the noir cycle (and it was undoubtedly shrugged off by audiences at the time) but viewing it today 50 years after its release allows one to judge it with fresher eyes. It's brisk, surprisingly well-plotted and boasts that signature blunt dialogue that's like boxers exchanging jabs. As the femme fatale, Joan Dixon does little more than purse her lips and act icily alluring, but that's enough. As a big-time racketeer, Lowell Gilmore is ironically (or intentionally?) so unthreatening and personable that his eventual fate seems richly undeserved. And as in many of the best noir films, there is an almost choreographed pivotal moment (like a complicated dance step) where the star-crossed lovers both shift gears, switch course and unwittingly cement their fates.

Plainly and efficiently directed by Harold Daniels, there are a couple rough transitions and slip-ups where information that should be being conveyed between characters isn't (partially undermining final dramatic showdowns) but still a fine B picture. And what noir film would be complete without someone shouting a line like "You haven't got a chance! You've been in this business long enough to know that!"