Angel's Flight

An American Cinematheque presentation at The Egyptian.

Ultra low-budget late-noir flick that seems to blend the mood of classic noir with the sleaze of early drive-in exploitation; Hershell Gordon Lewis channeling Howard Hawks. Rightfully heralded more as a priceless historical record than as a quality movie, it provides a fascinating glimpse into the Bunker Hill area of downtown Los Angeles on the eve of its destruction. The seedy tenements, streets, bars and strip clubs are wonderfully evocative of a lost place and time.

The lurid and preposterous story, for what it's worth, involves Thourlby's recovering alcoholic being used as bait (he's a 'pretty boy', you see) to lure and capture a violent serial killer stalking attractive lotharios on Bunker Hill. In the process, he is drawn to the damaged and peroxided Liz, a particularly inept stripper at the local titty-bar.

The whole thing comes to a very sudden halt, the result, it turns out, of the film crew being busted by the police for filming without a permit.

As a no-budget thriller, 'Angel's Flight' is surprisingly enjoyable, not least because of some genuinely bizarre and at times charismatic performances from the leads, and a raucously sleazy jazz score. But the movie's real value is to Los Angeles history buffs as a brilliantly evocative record of Bunker Hill. It is in this latter role that I award it so highly.

First there was "Dementia", then "Blast of Silence", and most recently, "Angel's Flight" -- obscure, independent, late-period noirs which gained minor cults due to their unavailability, little-known origins, and eccentric handling of the genre -- each now revealed to us through the magic of home video. And my goodness, each one lives up to and even surpasses one's expectations.

Despite its technical limitations (the post-sync dubbing is particularly distracting), "Angel's Flight" evinces a rich visual imagination, submerging us in a demimonde of smoky bars, fleapit hotels, sleazy trysts and the randomness of life. The narrative is intriguingly oblique, almost cubist in approach, and the dialog is replete with ripe gutter-philosophy. The plot presages many a future slasher movie, particularly the great "Ms 45". Like the best low-budget noirs, it possesses that edgy oneiric quality of a world seen through the haze of a few too many cheap bourbons and loves lost -- and the futile hope for redemption by our own personal angel. Cornell Woolrich would have appreciated it.

Indus Arthur is perfect as the otherworldly angel/devil. Look for Rue McClanahan in a small role as a barfly.

I just saw what was said to be the first screening of a more complete cut of this film here in 2006 as part of the noir festival. Let me mention real briefly that the post synced dialog, at least in this version, wasn't bad at all, and the motives for the killings are not what is stated in one of the other comments here. This film feels a bit cheap at first but the performances and the film quickly grows on you. What you have is a film shot in the early 60's that seems to have never been released, shot in Black and White with more of a modern sick city undercurrent to it that renders the whole thing fascinating. The grunge of the soon to be demolished buildings are like the story about to degenerate into the chaos of the 60's. It has elements, like the title song, that are pure 40's but the frank, if not explicit, sexual back story--not to give anything away, are more modern. So it works well as a later noir. The location photography with a handful of memorable shots and one cool police flashers superimposed in the eyes of the killer moments work well. The script is pretty well done and other than a sort of wide eyed crazy old lady--who adds to the fun but takes away from the other better actors--this holds together as drama. The end is abrupt but totally works. This should be released on DVD, the back-story of the film and filming are as noir as the film itself. Worth seeing and better made than either Blast of Silence or Dementia.

Well, after seeing this movie over the weekend on a big screen in Hollywood I have to say it's not the worst movie I've ever seen but close! The writing is full of clichés, the editing looks like it was done with a machete and the directing was either non-existent or he was loaded while filming. The lead actress, Indus had maybe two expressions throughout the whole movie. She wandered around the old Bunker Hill section of Los Angeles in a stupor most of the time. Her strip scene was a laugh riot. She was supposed to be looking seductive and instead looked like she was grimacing from a gall stone! There is a nosy old woman who lives in her building who overacted to the point I thought she was auditioning for Halloween Haunted House. Her hair perpetually up in curlers and a face that looked like Peter Lorre IN DRAG! Plot concerns a stripper who gets murderous at the same time she gets aroused. The only thing interesting about this movie was the great seedy locations provided by Bunker Hill, a location that city officials should have been executed for destroying instead of restoring. Great old Victorian Homes that were bulldozed in the late 60's to make way for tall office buildings. Watch this curio piece for that alone. I laughed out loud at the intended high drama!

*spoilers*

"Angel's Flight" is like a bad hangover...so sweaty, dark, and gritty, you'll feel like taking a shower when it's over. Although its strongest foothold is in the noir ethos, the film could also be regarded as an early prototype to what we now know as the slasher subgenre(with a fat pinch of sexploitation for good measure).

The late Indus Arthur is lovely in this, her film debut, portraying Liz... a stripper with a childlike innocence who is driven to murder when aroused by men. It's eventually revealed that her psychosis is the sad result of a memory-repressed violent rape which occurred years earlier. William Thourlby(the original Marlboro Man and star of the cult classic "The Creeping Terror")plays a crapulent writer being used as bait by the authorities in an investigation of the killings. He unexpectedly finds ill-starred romance with the pitiable, knee-jerk murderess, and aims to seek professional help for her dangerously burdened mental state.

ANGEL'S FLIGHT is better than one might expect...an ugly, unhappy trip into the seedy underbelly of L. A.'s long-gone Bunker Hill area, once the gateway to the Angel's Flight railway system where much of this was filmed, likely without permits. Don't blink, or you'll miss future Golden Girl Rue McClanahan's bit as stumbling barfly. The film ends abruptly(possibly unfinished?) with key matters left unresolved, but I still recommend this rather oddball rarity to fans of skid row noir\neo-noir.

5/10.