THE LIQUIDATOR (1965)

In a black & white flashback to WWII, we see American soldier Boysie Oakes (Rod Taylor) more or less accidentally save the life of the British soldier Mostyn (Trevor Howard). Twenty years later (in color), Mostyn, now a colonel in British intelligence, is dealing with a spy scandal and his boss (Wilfrid Hyde-White) proposes that they kill off any of their spies who raise any red flag (i.e. suspicion of betrayal). Thinking of Boysie as a lethal killer, Mostyn visits him at the Bird Café, a bird-filled diner that Boysie owns, and gets him to join British intelligence. He is trained and given a fancy bachelor pad apartment (and a supply of women on the side) which he enjoys until Mostyn, telling him that life is more than "sex and sunlamps," lets him know that his job is to be a cold-blooded assassin of traitor spies. What Mostyn doesn't know is that Boysie can't stand violence, so Boysie subcontracts out the killing jobs to a pro named Griffen who is very good at his job and not terribly demanding when it comes to payment. Boysie then settles into a fling with Mostyn's secretary Iris (Jill St. John) despite being warned that spies should not fraternize with civilians. When Boysie takes Iris to the French Riviera, he gets tangled up in an espionage exercise in which he is to attempt to kill the Duke of Edinburgh, using blanks, of course. What he doesn't know is that he is being used by other spies to actually assassinate the Duke.

This movie was only on my radar as one of any number of minor James Bond rip-offs of the mid-60s—it even has a bombastic theme song sung by Shirley Bassey (of "Goldfinger" fame)— but it turned out to be a fairly delightful adventure, positioned somewhere between spoofy and serious. The character of Boysie Oakes, created by novelist John Gardner, went on to be featured in several novels but this is his only movie which is kind of a shame, although "reluctant spy who hates violence" is not the strongest plot device on which to hang a film series. But Rod Taylor is so good, I'd have watched a sequel if he'd been in it. He's handsome and masculine and personable while still making the character's squeamishness about violence read as real. The reviewer at Mysteryfile.com notes that Taylor can come off as "dashing and frightened out of his wits at the same time" and this may be the key to his performance here. Trevor Howard and Jill St. John are his equals, Akim Tamiroff is an oily villain and David Tomlinson pops in about halfway through as a character with ambiguous goals. Eric Sykes plays the paid assassin as a regular working guy. The movie almost splits into thirds, with part one being the hired killer spy spoof, part two being the fling between Boysie and Iris, and part three being the more serious spy endgame with some requisite plot twists thrown in. Even though the tone shifts are problematic at times, I found this quite enjoyable. Pictured are Taylor and St. John. [TCM]

THE SNOW MAIDEN (1969)

In the 1950s and 60s, the Soviet Union produced a number of colorful fantasy films based on fairy tales and folklore (see THE SNOW QUEEN for an earlier example). It's difficult to say who the intended audience for these was. I don't know how they were received in Russia, but most of them got dubbed into English and released in America either directly to television or as children's Saturday matinee movies. In dubbed (and pan-and-scan) prints, they come off as campy B-movies—indeed, a couple have gotten the MST3K treatment. As a child, I remember seeing TV Guide listings for The Day the Earth Froze, thinking it sounded cool, then being disappointed, mostly by its chintzy special effects, when I finally saw it in my teen years. But I've discovered that when you see them as originally released, in clean and colorful widescreen prints in Russian (with English subtitles), they're kind of interesting. This one is set in long-ago fairytale Russia where we see villagers holding a festival at Shrovetide (the pre-Lenten season before springtime) with lots of dancing and singing about the joys of love. But the Snow Maiden refuses to allow spring to arrive, and Father Frost lets her stay and live among the villagers for a time. She is adopted by an elderly couple and romantic complications soon arise: the Snow Maiden falls for the simple shepherd Lel; the burly Mishgar becomes engaged to Kupova but then is smitten with the Snow Maiden; Kupova tries to kill herself but Lel soon develops feelings for her. The Tsar arrives and, hoping to get spring to come, arranges for a village group marriage to appease the Sun King. Mishgar tries to assault the Snow Maiden but he is driven off by wood sprites (looking more like demons). Eventually, the Snow Maiden learns what love is all about and disappears in a ray of light so spring can finally arrive. At least I think that's what happened.

This has the trappings of a kiddie movie, but it doesn't feel like one that American children would embrace. There is a bit of comedy here and there, and a few songs, and the sets and cinematography work together to produce a magical look, but I couldn't warm up (I guess in a movie about a Snow Maiden, that's a pun) to any of the characters. I realize there is a cultural divide in operation. Variations on Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty stories are very familiar to me because I read those stories when I was very young and those templates have existed in Western culture for ages; the story of the Snow Maiden Snegurochka (the Russian title of the movie) has fairy tale elements but mixed in unexpected ways (the suicide attempt, the worship of nature gods, the mass wedding), and I wasn't sure who I should be rooting for. The performances are par for the course. Evgeniy Zharikov is handsome and sturdy as Lel, the most sympathetic character, and Irina Gubanova as Kupova is appealing. Eugenia Filonova as the Snow Maiden is appropriately cold and distant, but it was unclear to me why she wouldn't let spring come and what she wants out of the situation. I can't find any evidence that this was ever released in an American children's version, though I'd be interested in seeing it if it exists. (A movie called Snow Maiden ran on American television in syndication in 1968 but it was a marionette movie.) Otherwise, I would recommend this to fans of older fantasy films, and it fits in nicely with my tradition of watching fantasy films around Thanksgiving. [DVD]

HERCULES AND THE MASKED RIDER (1963)

In 16th century Spain, wealthy landowner Don Ramiro periodically delights in the sport of plaguing the peasants who live on his property with general plunder and mayhem. When Felipe and Dolores marry in secret and try to leave Ramiro's lands, he chases after them until they take refuge on the lands of the peaceful Don Francisco. Ramiro makes a show of giving Dolores to Francisco's daughter Blanca as a handmaid (and there is some mild joking made of the fact that Dolores and Felipe can't quite seem to find the time to consummate their marriage). Francisco calls for a holiday to celebrate the return of his nephew Juan from the wars in Flanders. Blanca expects to marry Juan (who gets Felipe as a servant), but her father asks her to consider Ramiro in order to peacefully consolidate his lands with Ramiro's. But Francisco doesn't know that Ramiro's plan is to get control of his lands by any means necessary. When Juan and Blanca try to elope in secret, they are caught and Francisco exiles Juan. In the woods, Juan falls in with a band of gypsies led by Estella, whose lover was killed by Ramiro's men. She agrees to help Juan fight the forces of Ramiro, and Juan dons a mask, becoming the masked rider of the title. Meanwhile, Ramiro, with the help of Captain Blasco, doesn't wait for his wedding and demands that Francisco sign over all his lands to Ramiro. A duel follows and Ramiro kills Francisco. Juan (sometimes with a mask, sometimes without) becomes a kind of Robin Hood/Zorro figure, with Estella and the gypsies as his "Merry Men." Juan and Estella infiltrate Ramiro's castle and soon, Captain Blasco falls for Estella, has a change of heart about Ramiro, and joins the gypsy rebels. When an envoy from the king comes to ensure that Ramiro's land grab is legal, and Ramiro finalizes his wedding date with Blanca, Juan and Estella lead a final rebel charge.

You may have noticed that, though I conjured up Robin Hood and Zorro in my plot summary, I never once mentioned Hercules. That’s because the character who is called Hercules in the movie (and Goliath in the original Italian version) isn't the mythical Roman figure but just a beefy shirtless guy who hangs out with the gypsies and helps out in the ass-kicking department. He really isn't in much of the movie, and when he is, I don't think he has any dialogue. That title is misleading in another way: Juan, the masked rider, rarely wears a mask. So if you think you’re getting a movie in which a Greek demigod meets Zorro, you will be quite disappointed. But if you can work your way past that, you'll find a moderately interesting adventure film, predictable but packed with plot and incident. Alan Steel (birth name Serigo Ciani, pictured above) was a legitimate Hercules figure in a handful of peplum films, and was especially good in HERCULES AND THE MOON MEN. He's attractive and beefy and kicks ass nicely, in one scene ripping up a gallows and tossing it around, but really adds little to the movie. Mimmo Palmara (Juan) played supporting roles in lots of Italian muscleman movies, but he lacks the looks, muscles and charisma to carry a leading role. José Greci is lackluster as Blanca which is partly the fault of the writing. Better are Pilar Cansino (Rita Hayworth's cousin) as the earthy Estella and Ettori Manni as Blasco, who has the looks of a leading man but is stuck in a fairly thankless secondary role. The swordplay is OK and there is an interesting battle, done for the entertainment of Ramiro, with men on horses forced to fight each other with whips until there is only one man standing—and he doesn't stand for long. There is also a gypsy knife-throwing dance in which all the knives wind in front of Ramiro, indicating that he is a person in need of punishment. The cherry on top is the last shot: Hercules tossing an effeminate comic relief gypsy over his shoulder to head into the sunset together with the other couples. The YouTube print is not great and not the right aspect ratio, but it's fun Saturday matinee viewing. [YouTube]

WAR OF THE ZOMBIES / ROME AGAINST ROME (1964)

In an opening scene of rousing sword fighting, a group of Romans carting tribute gold from the town of Salmacia to Rome are attacked and slaughtered. Afterwards, some grungy people in robes sneak in and cart the dead bodies off. Needless to say, Rome is pissed off, blaming the lack of gold on a Salmacian cult who indulge in magic and human sacrifice. The senators send Gaius (Ettore Manni) off to find their gold. Meanwhile, we are introduced to Aderbad (John Drew Barrymore, pictured), the head of the cult of the Goddess of the Night Star that has taken over Salmacia, with even the town's leader Letitius and his wife Tullia under Aderbad's thumb. The cult's plan is to resurrect the dead Roman soldiers as ghost warriors to fight against Rome. In the temple cave, the goddess is embodied in a huge statue of a woman's head with a third eye (reminding me of the way that the Wizard of Oz manifests himself in the 1939 film).that periodically lights up to shoot a ray of destruction. Gaius is captured by the cult but is released by Azer, a disillusioned cult member. Gaius makes contact with Letitius, and does not escape the wandering eye of Tullia. It's another woman, however, who attracts Gaius: the lovely slave girl Rhama who is under the hypnotic influence of the cult but wants to break free. She applies a magical healing balm to a sword wound on Gaius's arm, but soon Gaius winds up trapped in a cage in the temple, with frozen dead soldiers standing against the walls of the cave. The blood of dead soldiers resurrects these soldiers (I'm a little lost about this detail but it makes for a nifty scene) and Aderbad can conjure up damaging fire and wind in the cave, though he soon finds out that the balm that Rhama applied to Gaius has rendered him invulnerable to any magical damage. Now things really get strange. Tullia, mad because Gaius prefers Rhama to her, plots to kill her husband and blame it on Gaius and Azer (remember him?). We see another village attacked by cult members as savages dance around. Aderbad creates a snowstorm out of the blue, which leads to him finally conjuring up his dead soldier army, who are, despite the movie's title, not zombies but ghosts in psychedelic colors. Gaius saves the day by stabbing the goddess statue in her third eye, causing cascades of blood to rush out, and also somehow blinding Aderbad and causing an earthquake and the disappearance of the ghost army.

Whew! That’s a lot of plot for a 90 minute movie, and I'm not even sure I have all the details right as the English-dubbed print I saw on YouTube had several chunks of untranslated French dialogue throughout. My theory is that the English dubbed version was cut down and the French bits were added from another print to lengthen it. At any rate, like THE GIANT OF METROPOLIS, this is a crazy mix of genres (peplum, fantasy, horror) and it largely works if you give yourself over to its weirdness. Most critics credit John Drew Barrymore (father of Drew) and his over-the-top performance for the film's appeal. Though I think he's fine, he mostly controls his mustache-twirling villainous self until he goes whole hog camp near the end. He looks and acts much more modern than most peplum bad guys which adds to the appeal. Unlike most peplum heroes, Ettore Manni is not especially muscular and never shirtless, but he manages to convey a confident heroic aura. Ida Galli is good as Rhama, but most everyone else fades into the background. There is a bit of slogging in the middle, but the final attack is pulled off effectively, if cheaply. Favorite line: Aderbad to Tullia: "Revenge is love." Its alternate title, ROME AGAINST ROME, makes more sense. [YouTube]

THE TONG MAN (1919)

The Bo Sing Tong is a powerful secret society in Chinatown which maintains its grip on the community through blackmail and assassination—the film starts with a man being shot dead on the street one night by a Tong member. Ming Tai, the Spider of Chinatown, is the head of the tong and keeper of the tong's joss, or idol, a large dragon head with a hollow interior. Ming Tai's latest concern is merchant and opium smuggler Louis Toy who refuses to pay protection money to the tong. Assassin Luk Chen, whose weapon of choice is a small hatchet, is assigned to deal with Louis Toy, but complications arise when he falls for Toy's daughter, Sen Chee. In a balcony scene right out of Romeo and Juliet, Chen tells Sen Chee that he plans to have enough money soon to leave for a new life in China. Ultimately, Chen can't bring himself to kill Toy, so Ming Tai bargains with Toy: he will spare Toy's life if he can claim Sen Chee for himself. Also involved is Lucero, a sailor who stabbed a white man who had cheated him in gambling and is on the run from the law. He is taken in by Toy and, in Shakespeare terms, becomes a kind of Friar Lawrence or Nursemaid sidekick to Chen and San Chee, especially when he hears Ming Tai decide that Chen must die. At the climax, there is a messy street melee (filmed in bad day-for-night shots) and someone gets a hatchet in the face (explicit but not gory—figure that one out). Our romantic couple gets a happy ending as Lucero tags along with them to China. I've talked about Sessue Hayakawa, who plays Luk Chen, on this blog before. He was that rarity in Hollywood films of the era, an authentic and popular Asian lead actor. He was Japanese, but plays Chinese here, as does the Japanese Yutaka Abe as Lucero. Other lead roles are taken by Anglo actors in yellowface: Marc Robbins as Ming Tai, Helen Jerome Eddy as San Chee (though to be fair, she's not so much in yellowface as drabface), Yutaka Abe, who later became a director, is skinny and handsome with a modern short-on-the-sides haircut. His character has promise, but is basically around just to help our hero. The acting is largely of the traditional silent type, with lots of melodramatic glances and secretive stares. In addition to being inspired by Shakespeare, it's based directly on a novel, The Dragon's Daughter by Clyde Westover, which is still in print. At an hour, it's paced fairly well and, for silent movie fans, is worth watching. Pictured at right is Yutaka Abe. [TCM]

CREATURE WITH THE BLUE HAND (1967)

David Emerson, of the wealthy Emerson family, is found guilty of the murder of his family's gardener and sent to Dr. Mangrove's asylum and tossed in a solitaire cell, proclaiming his innocence all the way. Someone tosses a key to him through his meal slot and he escapes (leaving behind a dead nurse whom he may or may not have strangled), heading for the family mansion, Castle Gentry, where no one really believes he's innocent, except maybe for his cousin Myrna and his twin brother Richard. After he arrives, he finds Richard is absent, so he borrows his clothes and passes himself off as Richard (seeming not at all insane). We find out that Lord Emerson took off years ago when accused of embezzlement and is assumed dead (but is he?), Lady Emerson and the family butler both act a bit suspicious at times, and soon someone with a sharp-clawed blue gauntlet (the Blue Hand of the title) begins killing people off. Police inspector Craig is soon on the case. Myrna gets a call to meet David at an empty bar and once there, she's attacked, though it's her brother Robert, trying to help her, who ends up dead. David, still as Richard, proves to be quite rational and winds up working with the police, and Myrna finds out that Dr. Mangrove takes bribes to declare people insane who aren't, and that the dead nurse from the beginning knew about him. Myrna herself is stashed away in a cell and threatened with snakes and rats. We find out that Dr. Mangrove, though definitely a bad guy, is himself taking orders from someone else. Ready to cry uncle yet? I hope not, because the revelations come fast and furious in the last half-hour, and the viewer needs to pay close attention.

When I was a kid, I got this movie title confused with the title of an Outer Limits episode, Demon with a Glass Hand, so I always assumed this was a science fiction film. It's not. It's a German krimi, based on a book by prolific crime writer Edgar Wallace. It also partakes of the Gothic 'old dark house' genre with horror overtones. Somewhat surprisingly, there is no real romance subplot, and the comic relief is kept to a minimum, mostly provided by Inspector Craig's boss, Sir John. A recurring "gag" involves men looking into the cell of a female inmate, a former stripper, who spends her time constantly stripping as though for an audience. The narrative is absolutely clotted with incident and plot twists, but it's fun to watch and ultimately getting confused is not a bar to enjoyment. Klaus Kinski plays the dual role of Paul and Richard, going over-the-top sweaty as Paul and calm and collected as Richard (or Paul as Richard). Though Kinski is the biggest name in the cast and gets lots of attention, Harald Leipnitz as the inspector is really the main character, with the Emerson brothers dropping out of the plot occasionally. The actor reminds me of John Vernon, who played Dean Wormer in ANIMAL HOUSE. Generally, it's good krimi fun, a bit more crazy-assed than is the norm. Pictured are Kinski and Leipnitz. [YouTube]

THE OMAHA TRAIL (1942)

The expansion of railroad service across the country in the 1870s meant an end to alternate ways of travel, one of which was the ox train, wagons pulled by oxen. Dean Jagger, boss of one of the bigger ox train companies, is feeling threatened by this expansion. In Habersford, an oxen hub town with a direct route to Omaha, we see that Jagger is planning on marrying Pamela Blake, sister of his right-hand man (Howard Da Silva). Meanwhile, handsome drifter James Craig (pictured) rides into town on Da Silva's ox train, lazily soaking up some sun while he plays a tune on his jaw harp. As Craig flirts with Blake, we meet Chill Wills, a guitar-playing buddy of Craig's, and Henry Morgan, a shifty little runt of a guy who often does dirty work for Jagger. Edward Ellis wants to get his locomotive car to Omaha to help stimulate railroad travel from Omaha west. The only way he can do it is to have it hauled by oxen, and he hires Craig to do it. Hearing of this, Jagger buys up all the oxen in town and forces Craig to pay handsomely to have him and his men lead the oxen that will pull the train. What Craig and Ellis don't know is that Jagger is planning to make sure that the train car never gets to Omaha. Things climax, as they often do in westerns of the era, in a gunfight in the middle of town. This B-western from MGM is glossier than most other B-westerns of the era, and benefits from a strong supporting cast filled with old reliables. Wills is mild comic relief who never gets too obnoxious, Morgan's quiet villainy has a sharp edge—he shoots an Indian in the back in an attempt to start an Indian attack against the train car; Donald Meek is fine as a train engineer and Da Silva's character starts out on Jagger's side but slowly moves to Craig's. Jagger is fine as always, and the handsome Craig makes a sturdy hero, though Blake is just so-so in the female lead. There are a couple of songs, including the catchy little ditty "Taters and Corn" which is sung by both Craig and Wills. Predictable and a bit corny but enjoyable. [TCM]

TAMMY AND THE BACHELOR (1957)

Teenager Tammy (Debbie Reynolds) and her moonshine-making grandfather (Walter Brennan) live on a houseboat in a backwoods swamp in Mississippi. Tammy's getting restless to experience life and Grandpa is indeed considering having her schooled somehow. One day, a small plane crashes nearby. Tammy and Grandpa pull the pilot, Peter Brent (Leslie Nielsen, pictured with Reynolds), out of the wreckage and nurse him back to health. Peter, probably ten years older than Tammy, is the handsome bachelor son of a wealthy family in Natchez where they live on a plantation called Brentwood. Tammy is quite taken with Peter, but eventually he leaves to go back to Brentwood. A few weeks later, Grandpa is arrested for his moonshine activities and he sends Tammy to Natchez to stay with Peter for a spell. She walks the entire way with her pet goat Nan, and arrives on the night of a swinging party. The family takes her in, assuming that Grandpa has passed away, and soon she has worked her charms on not only Peter but his father, his eccentric Aunt Renie, his best friend Ernie who tries to date her, and even Peter's high-class fiancée Barbara. The only one immune to Tammy is Peter's mother (Fay Wray), an uptight matriarch who is concerned that her presence will mar the upcoming Pilgrimage Week festivities. Slowly, it becomes clear that Peter himself is falling for Tammy, but can such a love overcome obstacles such as age and class?

I have vague memories of seeing a couple of episodes of the Tammy TV sitcom from the mid-60s, but had never seen any of the Tammy movies. I assumed that the title character was, like Gidget, a suburban teeny-bopper type. So I was surprised by her backwoods origin, and found her closer to being a Pollyanna type, as enacted by Hayley Mills in the 1960 Disney movie: perky, confident, and able to charm everyone she meets. Reynolds inhabits the role nicely, though at the age of 24, she never really looks or feels like a teenager. Nielsen, long before he became famous as a comic actor in Airplane!, was 30 and more or less looks it, so going just on visuals, their age gap isn't too bothersome. Still, I spent a good chunk of the movie assuming that Nielsen was going to be a father figure, not a boyfriend, so I had mixed feelings when the romantic feelings flared up late in the story. The movie is brightly colored and well shot, and even Brennan's rickety houseboat looks nice. Brennan is Brennan, predictable but reliable. Wray gets to shine a bit as the nasty mother who does finally soften at the end, in a fun scene in which Tammy captivates the Pilgrimage Week tourists by telling an impromptu story. Sidney Blackmer is fine as the father, as is Craig Hill as Ernie who never quite becomes as slimy as I think we're supposed to take him for. Best is Mildred Natwick as the flighty artist aunt who I wish had a bit more screen time. The film was not an immediate hit. It wasn't until Reynolds' recording of the title song became a hit that the film found an audience. In the movie, she sings the Oscar-nominated song about her love for Peter to herself in her bedroom in a moment that, for me, doesn't really fit. Still, a harmless and comfortable romantic comedy in which Reynolds shines and Nielsen gets to be a handsome leading man. [TCM]

TRIPLE CROSS (1966)

In late 1930s England, the Gelignite Gang is making headlines for a series of safecracking crimes, but we see that the Gang is actually one man, Eddie Chapman (Christopher Plummer, pictured) whom the police eventually catch up with while he's vacationing on one of the Channel Islands. While he's imprisoned, the island is occupied by German forces and he offers to be a spy for the Germans if they let him go. Colonel Steinhager (Gert Forbe) and his mistress the Countess (Romy Schneider) visit him in prison (where the Countess is whistled at by the rowdy prisoners) and they accept his offer. Chapman's death is faked and he is given his assignments by Baron Von Grunen (Yul Brynner). First he is parachuted into England in what turns out to be a loyalty test; Von Grunen thinks he will not transmit information so he is actually dropped in France, but in the nick of time, Chapman figures it out and passes with flying colors. Then he's sent on his real mission: to blow up a British weapons factory. Once in England, he makes contact with the military and offers his services to them as a double agent. They fake the explosion and back in Germany, Chapman gets an Iron Cross, despite some suspicions among the Nazi brass. He is sent back to get information about some bombing targets and again works with the British to supply false coordinates. The title comes from the idea, touched on in the final scene, that maybe there was a third element here that he was more loyal to than either Germany or England.

This is based on a true story; Chapman was real and this movie was based in part on his autobiography (and his story was told more recently in a well-received book called Agent Zigzag). While this movie is always watchable, it's rarely compelling. In some ways, it's unique in the genre of mid-60s spy films. It's not campy, it's not slam-bang action, and it's not disillusioned gloomy like John LeCarre films can be. Plummer was probably anxious to distance himself from the character of Capt. Von Trapp in The Sound of Music, but some of his actorly traits here smack of Von Trapp mannerisms. His best scene is one in which he is about to kill himself with a poison pill because he thinks the Germans have figured out his game and are about to torture him. More interesting are Frobe as one of his handlers and Brynner as a Nazi whom we eventually find somewhat sympathetic. Romy Schneider has little to do except look good. Trevor Howard has a small role. The tense musical score tends to get over the top at times. The production values are good, though the atmosphere rarely seems of the 1940s, but the script and the overall tone could have used some more work. [TCM]

NEVER OPEN THAT DOOR (1952)

This Argentinian film noir from director Carlos Hugo Christensen adapts two stories by American mystery writer Cornell Woolrich ("Rear Window"). They are unrelated but tied together by a quote from an opening title card: "Good is your enlightened home, evil is your dark jungle; the door between them should never be opened." Though the noir label fits, both stories are reminiscent of episodes of the Alfred Hitchcock anthology series of the 1960s. In the first story, "Somebody On the Phone," Luisa, who shares a fancy penthouse apartment with her rich brother Raul, is up to her ears in gambling debts. At a nightclub, Raul, seated with friends, sees Luisa across the club sitting with a thuggish fellow named Prestamista. It looks like he is demanding money from her. Late that night at the apartment, he confronts her but, despite being obviously upset, she declines to share any information with him. The next day, Raul discovers that his bank account of some 70,000 pesos has been drained dry by Luisa. He also discovers that someone (we assume Prestamista) has beeen calling her using a ring code—he lets the phone ring five times and if she doesn’t pick up, he hangs up and calls right back, assuming that she is alone. Though Raul tries to help, Luisa ends up jumping to her death from the apartment. In Raul's mind, she was as good as murdered and he vows to get justice for her, leading to one of the most ambiguous (yet still satisfying) endings in all of noir.

The second story, "The Hummingbird Comes Home," begins with a note about how important touch and sound are to this story, and indeed, the central character, Rosa, is an older blind woman who lives a quiet life in relative rural isolation with her adult niece Maria. Rosa lives in hope of seeing her son Daniel again after an eight-year absence. The women hear a report on the radio of a jewel robbery we have just witnessed in which the thieves killed someone and are now on the run. The report notes that the killer is being dubbed the Hummingbird because of his propensity to whistle a current pop tune called "Uno." Shortly, Daniel shows up at his mother's house and, of course, he's the Hummingbird killer. He and an accomplice drag in a third thief who was badly wounded in the robbery. The women remain in the dark about Daniel's activities; Daniel is fairly cold towards his mother but she is so happy he has returned that she doesn't really notice anything is wrong until later in the evening after he has insisted that Rosa and Maria go to bed (while he and his associate drag the now-dead third man outside). In the quiet night, Rosa hears Daniel whistling "Uno" and then we have a Hitchcockian set-up, a bit like the last part of Wait Until Dark, with blind Rosa deciding what to do and how to do it. As good as the first story is, this is the real nail-biter, beautifully shot in the dark and well acted by all involved. Both stories use stark noir nighttime lighting very well. Though all the acting is solid, the best performances come from Angel Magana as Raul and Ilde Pirovano as Rosa. You don’t have to be a noir fan to enjoy this film and I would recommend it highly. Pictured are Angel Magana as Raul and Renee Dumas as Luisa. [TCM]

CIPHER BUREAU (1938)

Three menacing looking men riding in a car one night arrive at a suburban home. They look like bad guys, but when they enter the house looking for a man named Wormer, a German-accented man claims he's not there, and by Hollywood rules, we know they're good guys looking for a Nazi spy (though neither Germans nor Nazis are actually mentioned at any point). The three men, led by Philip Waring (Leon Ames), find code books, but another man in the house manages to set off some tear gas, and the two spies escape. They contact Grood, their boss, and get the codes changed for messages that are about to be sent. Philip, head of the government's Cipher Bureau, sends his younger brother Paul, a naval officer, on a mission to take readings on the code transmissions to find out where they're coming from. On a train back to Washington, Paul flirts with Therese; he is first given the brush-off but later she goes with him to the train's observation platform where they get better acquainted. We soon see Therese report to Grood and we discover she is setting what they call a "honey trap" in which to ensnare Paul. Paul begins dating Therese and one night, his cocktail is drugged and Grood's spies take his government papers. Paul is dishonorably discharged, but what he and the judge don't know is that the papers were plants containing unimportant information in order to draw out the spies. Meanwhile, Therese seems to have developed real feelings for Paul; can Philip enlist her to help track down the spies for good?

This B-spy film was made before WWII broke out which is why the nationality of the spies is never made clear—though with the heavily accented actor Gustav von Seyffertitz playing Grood, the spymaster, there is little doubt that we're dealing with Nazis. The unique aspect of this movie is the focus on code breaking. There is a lengthy (and, unfortunately, not very compelling) scene showing Ames and his co-workers breaking a code, and a more interesting scene later showing a message being coded into music to be performed over the radio. Otherwise, it's par for the course for a second-feature spy thriller, which means it's watchable if it doesn't stand out from the crowd. Ames made his name playing nice-guy fathers so it's always fun to see him in one of his earlier films going against type. Here, he's only slightly against type; he's a good guy but a heroic brother instead of a beleaguered father. There’s a barely developed romantic connection between Philip and his secretary Helen (Charlotte Wynters) that gets a small pay-off at the end, and there was also a follow-up film with Ames and Wynters playing the same characters. Joan Woodbury, who had a long career as a B-character actor, is fine as Therese, and I always enjoy seeing Seyffertitz as a Germanic villain. Don Dillaway, in his mid-30s at the time, still looks young enough to be playing the semi-juvenile role of the younger brother. There is a MacGuffin here, the plans for a new long-range gun, but it's forgotten almost as soon as it's mentioned. Made by Grand National, a short lived indie company, it is a bit slow, but at only an hour, it serves as a fine distraction for a Saturday afternoon. Pictured are Ames and George Lynn, a fellow spy. [YouTube]