The End of the Line

I thought that this was a neat, well-crafted thriller with a few surprising little twists here and there.

Good performances by Barbera Shelley, who sadly died of COVID 19 earlier this year; and Jennifer Jayne, who can be seen alongside Conrad Phillips in The Adventures of William Tell, which is being rerun on Talking Pictures at the moment, on a Monday morning at 09:30; and Geoffrey Hibbert, who died in 1969 at the young age of 42. Jennifer Jayne is also no longer with us, having died in 2006 at the age of 74. All three actors are sadly missed for the great contribution that they made to British Television and Film.

The only thing that intrigued me about this film was the narration by Alan Baxter, who played the lead. Why was he referring to himself by the personal pronoun, "you", as if he was talking to someone else?

Like a good number of British 'B' films made during the 1950s, this one offers a lead role for an imported American actor whose career had seen better days. In this instance Alan Baxter plays Mike Selby, a writer brought to England to give an American slant on a forthcoming play. The producer's daughter (Jennifer Jayne) finds him accommodation in a country hotel but this proves to be fateful. There he sees his former girlfriend Lilaine (Barbara Shelley) who is now married to Crawford, the hotel owner. She had originally run out on Mike to find someone with money but is now bored and apparently wants to rekindle their romance. After some initial resistance, Mike succumbs to her charms and is eventually persuaded to steal the jewellery that Crawford fences as a lucrative sideline. She concocts an elaborate alibi for him but things start to go wrong when Mike believes he has killed Crawford while stealing the jewels. Then he receives blackmail threats but who is blackmailing Mike, was Crawford really dead and what are Lilaine's real motives?

I was quite entertained by this second feature film which moves along nicely and throws in some twists along the way. However the performances of the two leads could not be more diverse. Alan Baxter seemed wooden and uneasy throughout whereas Barbara Shelley is cool and sexy. If fact her delivery at times reminded me of the young Lauren Bacall but sadly Baxter was no Humphrey Bogart. If possible, catch this film if only to see Barbara Shelley – she looks stunning.

I found this to be a reasonably entertaining second feature..It is really a who did my do it rather than a whodunit. Alan Baxter is the parachuted in American lead.Rather interesting to see that he arrives at Victoria on the Golden Arrow London to Paris train.The train used to go on to the ferry at Dover and then go back on the rails at Calais. The problem with Baxter is that he really isn't quite the star needs for the role.The voice over narration is sort of a combination of Phillip Marloweand Sam Spade.However that said it still keeps you guessing and is undeserving of its current low rating. Probably this is due to Baxters rather low key performance and his lack of empathy with his leading lady.

A corrective to anyone who thinks fifties Britain was perennially wet and overcast is this dour early Guido Coen quickie obviously shot during a hot, dry summer in those far off days when everybody smoked, phones had button 'A's and telephone exchanges still had human operators.

Like Fred MacMurray in 'Double Indemnity' crew-cut American import Alan Baxter narrates how he was ensnared by dragon lady Barbara Shelley (in arched eyebrows, painted nails and a polka-dot blouse) with a rich husband of more use to her dead than alive.

Good-looking but garrulous, it feels much longer than it's running time of only 66 minutes.

This recently viewed feature is almost as bland as the washed out, whiter shade of pale print in which it appeared.

Everyone seems to be pulling out all the stops to give it the noir treatment: Alan Baxter is the obligatory American lead, retrospectively relating his ill fated encounters with siren Barbara Shelley, being needled by the sound of a familiar record, but still capable of a few cool colloquialisms, "The smart little number behind the desk," being a case in point. William Talman lookalike, Geoffrey Hibbert appears as a smarmy shady private dick. An unexpected twist creates faint echoes of Double Indemnity and it's all overlaid with a consciously trendy jazz score.

However, a pervading, quintessential Englishness drains the movie of any real grit or cutting edge. Much of the action takes place around leafy, affluent Marlow, with visits to the Windsor Lad pub and it's promo for Courage Ales. The then protracted process of making a phone call via the operator is conducted with decorum and dignity. Everything is so respectable, that even the chase occurs on attractive, rambling rural roads - Baxter's hot pursuit thwarted by a tractor hauling a cart loaded with hay blocking his path. All that's missing is the local yokel, with straw dangling from his lips observing from a nearby gate.

It is all fairly entertaining, but in an inescapably slight and superficial way. 'The End of the Line' manages to avoid hitting the buffers, but in spite of the rustic settings doesn't exactly pull up any trees either!