Dead Man's Evidence

Dean Man's Evidence brings with it a fairly broad cast of performers that have the misfortune of having to work with a rather bland and uninspiring script.

The film's location takes place in Ireland and the cinematography does offer the viewer some beautiful vistas that are quite lovely. Even with a weak script the two male leads are unable to elevate the action as they both turn in rather tepid performances. In addition to the beautiful scenery this film does also include some unique locations as well. However, there is far too little in the way of suspense on display in Dead Man's Evidence that would suggest this as a must see.

Mainly filmed on location in Ireland, where one car a day passes the pub, if you're lucky.

Baxter is sent by his bosses to investigate a dead frogman washed up on the beach. It was found by a young girl, Miss Howard (what was she doing there?), and a reporter and photographer just happened to be on the spot. There's a mysterious beardie in a bungalow who's employing the (female) photographer as a fellow spy. Is the dead man a double agent last seen in Berlin? Baxter and Miss Howard stay in the same rather staid hotel in the nearest town as they wait for the inquest. The reporter and photographer hang around, ostensibly on the scent of a story.

1963 wasn't a great year for fashion, and all the women wear frumpy styles, big coats and awful hairdos. Staff at the hotel and airport have very English accents. The only "Oirish" is attempted by a barmaid and the mortuary attendant. Everybody smokes all the time, and drinks all day. Miss Howard becomes a bit giggly after her tenth gin and bitter lemon.

The sound was so bad that I turned on the subtitles. Miss Howard in particular EMphasized one word in every sentence but died away for the rest. The subtitler gave up on an Irish barman in a lonely pub where the last showdown takes place. We shall never know what he was saying. However, we are helpfully told when the soundtrack becomes sinister, menacing or resolutive.

Overall, it is like a substandard Francis Durbridge enacted by the Charles Vance players (the worst amateur troupe I have ever witnessed). The music is the best thing about this dreary movie - with a few genuinely lovely Irish folk tunes at the beginning.

Conrad Philips plays the secret agent trying to uncover the reason for the murder of a British spy who's been washed up on a beach near Dublin. Phillips is an uninspiring lead, and like the rest of the cast simply goes through the motions without expending too much energy. The film is far too heavily laden with tedious and polite dialogue, accompanied by a prodigious amount of smoking and drinking in hotels and bars. The lack of action and a convincing dramatic narrative means the film wanders aimlessly from scene to scene with one dimensional characters, who seem to drift in and out without rhyme or reason. The only compensations are the picturesque views of the beaches and the coastal surroundings. This is strictly a low grade 'B' film and a time filler before the main feature.

The complain I hear most about old movies is the "slow pace" . The audience was conditions over the last decades to faster and faster action, cuts lasting a fraction of a second, jumps from scene to scene that can make one nauseous. But nothing like this happens in real life and a more pedestrian pace is not only more realistic, but much more rewarding.

So if we ignore the "slow pace" we have here a good solid story slowly reaching its solution. And really everything is going in favour of the movie: good acting, good photography, authentic locations. And like any movie from some 60 years ago, it is an interesting document, a time capsule with the real objects (not fake props), the real customs and details. We usually do not see this in the anachronistic period movies made decades later.

From the very first image of the classic British binoculars, the WW2 Bar & Stroud Cf41, to the scenes of the Dublin airport with the Vickers Viscount airplanes - it is all as authentic as it can be for the early 1960s.

The best thing about this low rent spy film from cheapie director Francis Searle is that it was filmed on location in Ireland, so we get to see some nice rural locations around Dublin instead of the usual studio-bound settings. Conrad Phillips is the erstwhile hero, a spy who is sent to discover the identity of a fellow agent discovered washed up on the beach in Dublin. He soon uncovers a hotbed of intrigue and must piece together the puzzle in order to finish his mission.

DEAD MAN'S EVIDENCE is very much an average film for the genre, hampered by the cheapness of the budget and a slightly plodding feel to the story. Phillips isn't the most exciting of leading men, although he does have one of the loveliest actresses accompanying him: Jane Griffiths, whose early death at the age of 45 remains one of cinema's forgotten minor tragedies. She's fantastic here, really sparkling in her vibrant part. The one place that DEAD MAN'S EVIDENCE is excels is at the ending, which contains a massive twist I didn't see coming, and is very novel for this genre of film-making.