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George Hamilton stars with Marian Seldes and Mary Murphy in "Crime and Punishment USA," an adaptation of the novel by Dostoevsky, directed by Denis Sanders.

The film "introduces" George Hamilton.

Hamilton plays a young man who kills and robs a pawnbroker and later comes up against a smart police detective (Frank Silvera) who preys on his conscience.

The only other version of this I've seen is the Peter Lorre one from 1935 and as you might guess, this film doesn't compare, and comparing George Hamilton to Peter Lorre - well, it can't be done.

One thing both films have in common is that they were done cheaply, and both in black and white. The black and white serves both films very well. It made the places in this film look kind of low-class and gritty.

The atmosphere was really the only thing I liked. The music was very loud and had those screeching trumpets one always heard in the '50s and '60s in films.

I also thought everyone acted somewhat inappropriately. It's possible it all happened in the other film, but it was either done better or I just don't recall it.

When a man admits to killing someone, what would make a woman suddenly decide she wants to sleep with him? Especially after an uncomfortable scene where he yelled at her and acted rather weirdly.

Hamilton would be talking and suddenly start shouting -- it seemed like the emotions in this film came on suddenly with no build-up.

It was interesting to see such a young Marian Seldes as Hamilton's sister. She was a stage actress and teacher, married at one time to Garson Kanin. She died last year.

I saw George Hamilton in "La Cage aux Folles" a few years ago. He's done a great job of marketing his personality, and he obviously has a sense of humor, but he didn't register much, and he co-starred with an excellent Broadway performer, which made him look worse. I don't think in films he was a horrible actor, just not that great.

So that's Crime and Punishment U. S. A.

This is the kind of film, which you wonder how it ever got made, but in a good way. It seems to be the result of either a very low budget or some real out of the box thinking to transfer Dostoyevsky's classic to contemporary Los Angeles. Yet somehow the cinematography showing the seedy underbelly of sunny Southern California is perfectly evocative of the kind of desperation, want and need in the original novel.

George Hamilton, never a very convincing dramatic actor, does well in his first starring role as the murderer who can't resist teasing the inspector who seems to know from the beginning that Hamilton is guilty, in a plot device with another reviewer compared to Colombo. The final dénouement will be well known to readers of the novel or viewers of prior versions of the film.

The supporting cast is uniformly good, especially Frank Silvera as the police inspector and John Harding who plays Hamilton's sister's seducer. The jazz soundtrack adds to the dissonance and confusion of the lead character as he tries to evade discovery, while flirting with it at the same time. The film has a vibe similar to "Odds Against Tomorrow."

Clearly, this film wouldn't be for everybody. But I think that followers of the novel, which is still a great read whether or not, you've read it once or four times, will appreciate that whatever led the producers to transfer the setting to Southern California, and budget considerations or not, did an immense service to the novel by putting it in the glare and scrutiny of a dry, parched, California summer, where, instead of beach and sand and surf, that usually accompanies such scenery, you see desolate parking lots, cheap motels, and urban squalor as background to the characters and their melodramatic conflicts.

I think if you view this movie with an open mind, you will find it as unusual and fascinating as I did. Adaptations like this are rare enough. Of course, we are used to such stories been told on PBS with English actors with British accents playing the lead roles. Here you see that in America, we can update a classic and still keep it fascinating and current.

Actually more like the previous years' COMPULSION than a modernization of Fyodor Dostoevsky's CRIME AND PUNISHMENT... although that's exactly what it is, by title, and if Frank Silvera's friendly, complimenting homicide detective is reminiscent of the 1970's TV-cop COLUMBO, both are based on the same literary character...

And ironically, George Hamilton became a victim-of-persuasion from both determined constables and here, resembling Anthony Perkins with the combined personalities of either COMPULSION killer... broodingly into Atheist philosophy while acting too good for everyone, in particular the earthy lawman... he's more aimless than guilt-ridden...

The grainy-B&W Los Angeles-set sequences between Hamilton's Robert and the affable yet clinging detective are no different in tone than existential conversations with deep-thinking heart-of-gold-hooker Mary Murphy, his best buddy (Wayne Heffney) or his sister's middle-aged fiance (seeming straight from an Actor's Studio workshop)... yet the overall stagey aspect's so upfront and natural, CRIME feels more intriguing than meandering...

And while never claiming to be a thriller, it's no melodrama either, fitting within a kind of Beatnik's soulless journey that... between the genuine street thug film noirs and the colorful counter-culture neo noirs... exists within the sharpened jazz-soaked cinema of the late 1950's, as unappreciated now as it was back then.

To begin with, I almost did not acquire this when I chanced upon it, since the film does not have much of a reputation; even so, it has recently been released on DVD-R as part of Warners' "Archive Collection", running 96 minutes (like the version I watched) rather than 78 as listed on the IMDb! In any case, the result is undeniably gripping (given the source material) and decidedly accomplished (in spite of the obvious low budget) – with gleaming cinematography by Floyd Crosby and a jazzy score by Herschel Burke Gilbert.

Best of all, the performances (notably, as always, the arrogant protagonist and his wily nemesis) are reasonably impressive. George Hamilton (being nominated for a BAFTA award in his film debut) kind of channels Anthony Perkins here, and it is unfortunate that he would soon forsake such thoughtful roles for sophisticated (and, in the long run, superficial) ones. Frank Silvera plays his pivotal cop role as something of a buffoon; Mary Murphy's character, then, does not shy away from discussing her sordid 'profession'; while John Harding appears as the seducer of the hero's sister. Incidentally, Hamilton's scenes with the latter two are only slightly less compelling than his confrontations with Silvera (established in previous cinematic renditions as the novel's centerpiece).

As the title suggests, Dostoyevsky's morality tale has been updated to modern-day America: curiously, it eschews the pivotal figure of the pawnbroker entirely (though we are still told why the murder was committed) – indeed, the narrative here starts off with the arrest of the painter! Still, the victim's essentially disagreeable characteristics are transferred onto the afore-mentioned Harding – which seemed unnecessary at first, but this does generate an intriguing complicity between the two murderers…paid off, most effectively, in ironical fashion when the student ultimately confesses because he believes the other fellow killed himself out of remorse when it was over rejection!

In the end, the film is pretentious (boasting a powerful script by Walter Newman), with a tendency towards sleaze; that said, this mature approach is quite redolent of the transitional period in which it was made – being entrenched somewhere between studio-system Hollywood and the 'movie brats' generation. For the record, this was also director Sanders' first effort, of whose later work I have watched (and own) WAR HUNT (1962), ELVIS: THAT'S THE WAY IT IS (1970/2000) and INVASION OF THE BEE GIRLS (1973); besides, I have just acquired THE American WEST OF JOHN FORD (1971; TV) and am interested in ONE MAN'S WAY and SHOCK TREATMENT (both 1964).

"Crime & Punishment, USA" updates Fyodor Dostoevsky novel to the 20th century and transports it from Saint Petersburg to Los Angeles. It wasn't the first film to do so, with a 1956 French adaptation and, before that, the American "Fear" (1946) is a "Crime and Punishment" picture in all but name; plus, another 1959 reworking also from France, Robert Bresson's "Pickpocket," took even more liberties with the text that it's, nonetheless, clearly inspired by. I'm not opposed to loose reworkings in the transmutation from prose to picture; indeed, "Pickpocket" is my favorite Dostoevsky film. Especially for a poor production such as this American counterpart, updating and transporting a narrative in adaptation makes a lot of economic sense. Moreover, it may lead to some interesting reinterpretations of the source that make it more relatable to modern times. Asking a low-budget 1959 film to adequately transcribe, say, the criticism of Russian nihilism from Dostoevsky's 19th century is a tall order and equally so for a general 1959 audience to understand. This film acknowledges that; plus, at least, it's evident that the filmmakers comprehended Dostoyevsky's story. Cleverly, they replaced the radicalism of Dostoevsky's era with some from their own--the Beat Generation.

Like Dostoevsky's protagonist Raskolnikov, the film's Robert murders a pawnbroker based on his philosophizing about his own supposed superiority (including in an article he penned), thus allowing him to flaunt the law in pursuit of allegedly benefiting humanity at large. Both characters' beliefs are of the sort of atheistic and counter-cultural order mocked by the conservative Dostoevsky. Thus, we see Robert play the bongos and even tap on his coffee cup before that. He doesn't wear turtlenecks and a fedora like a stereotypical beatnik, but I sense he thinks he's hip smoking a pipe instead of cigarettes like any upstanding 1950s American would. He's also unconcerned when the picture's Sonya type, renamed "Sally," admits her sexual promiscuity, but is upset with her prostitution because it's a self-sacrificing act that goes against his hedonistic thinking. A young George Hamilton looks the part, too. And, to top it off, we get a jazzy score.

I also like what is done with the Svidrigaïlov character, renamed "Fred." He's more vital here to Robert's redemption, unintended as it may be, whereas Sonya's "hooker with a heart of gold" was the underlying force behind that of Raskolnikov. Fortunately, Fred isn't the usual movie heavy as his counterpart was in the 1935 American adaptation, either. In the book, I found him to be one of the more amusing characters, and so he is here. I'm less fond of what is done with Sally. She's also something of a beatnik--what with the book of non-traditional spirituality in her room. She even sleeps with Robert right after he confessed the murder to her. She initially suggests that he turn himself in, but as quickly gives up on the idea. As with other adaptations, time is also given to the inspector interrogating the murderer, which is fairly well done here, although the 1935 French version remains probably my favorite handling of this character dynamic.

Unfortunately, the poor production values also lead to this appearing largely as a filmed play, with characters mostly talking in cramped flats. We don't see too much of Robert's Los Angeles, and he only briefly mentions the sort of wandering throughout the city that Raskolnikov did to consume much of the novel's substantial length. We also don't see the murder. And some of the sound effects are poorly done. Nevertheless, it does that one important thing right in updating its source to the Beat Generation. It's far from the best but also far from the worst version of the book I've seen.