Is it because of watching so much 'Perry Mason' (1957-1966) that when Raymond Burr, who plays the lead villain, Blake, is on screen we are riveted to his words, inflections, movements and gestures? For those of us who watched him as the bad guy in so many movies when we were children, such as 'Tarzan and the She Devil' (1953), the answer is no. He had real charisma and great screen presence whatever he did. Just check out his other evil performances of the era in such films as 'Rear Window' (1954), 'His Kind of Woman' (1951), 'Bride of the Gorilla' (1951), or his classic pyromaniac gangster in 'Raw Deal' (1948).
So it's no wonder that the best part of this film is watching him. The movie is helped by other fine performances by Cesar "The King of Lippert Pictures" Romero, as FBI chief Glen Stedman, the nice looking but strong Audrey Totter as Shirley Wayne the FBI clerk, and Tom Drake as her fiancée.
The problem is that the plot has holes bigger than swiss cheese, and too many of the scenes focus on the backs of people's heads. A state governor seeks Blake's aid in retrieving his fingerprint card, under his real name 'John Williams,' from the FBI in Washington, D.C. He's afraid his past criminal record as a convicted murderer will come out, destroying his chances in running for the Senate. The movie revolves around Blake's attempts to retrieve the fingerprint card, and the FBI's attempts to connect the murders of those FBI staff Blake uses to get the card with, to them, the unknown killers-at-large.
The first clerk, Natalie Craig (played by Margie Dean), takes the fingerprint card, but is killed in an auto accident. Even though later in the film when agent Donley (George Brent) and Stedman know they are looking for John Williams's fingerprint card, Donley says, "There must be 10,000 John Williams's!" and they both hopelessly give up the quest in looking for it in the files. Well, Natalie had had no trouble finding it, and neither does file clerk Shirley who later takes it to Blake. As a police procedural, this is no 'Dragnet' (1951-1959).
The governor is relieved it is over after Blake burns the card in a fireplace. As if there were only one copy of his real fingerprints in the country! What about where he was convicted? And where were any witnesses or evidence to connect him to his past life? This whole McGuffin is preposterous, but Burr has us almost believing in it in spite of all these improbables.
For too many scenes, the director and cinematographer have the characters moving from stage left to stage right where the camera is, and we see much of the dialog coming from the back of someone's head. No cut to a second camera to see their faces. The director was obviously not bothered by these shots. Jack Greenhalgh, the cinematographer, did over 200 films (mostly for Poverty Row studios like PRC and Lippert), including the classic 'Tell Your Children' (1936), which we know and love as 'Reefer Madness,' and then went on to do his other masterpiece, 'Robot Monster' (1953).
Oh, if only Ed Wood had been involved in this film! He would have added dialog to raise it to even more absurd heights, and would have overseen even worse photography, juxtaposing bizarre stock footage and a feebly weird soundtrack. Oh, wait! He did just that in his masterwork 'Glen or Glenda' (1953) featuring Bela Lugosi.
The quality seasoned acting skills of the principal players beguile you into accepting the film's premise, at least until the ending when you realize the plot hasn't made any sense. The performance of Burr, and those of Romero, Totter and Drake help the film, but ultimately it's only a 4.
So it's no wonder that the best part of this film is watching him. The movie is helped by other fine performances by Cesar "The King of Lippert Pictures" Romero, as FBI chief Glen Stedman, the nice looking but strong Audrey Totter as Shirley Wayne the FBI clerk, and Tom Drake as her fiancée.
The problem is that the plot has holes bigger than swiss cheese, and too many of the scenes focus on the backs of people's heads. A state governor seeks Blake's aid in retrieving his fingerprint card, under his real name 'John Williams,' from the FBI in Washington, D.C. He's afraid his past criminal record as a convicted murderer will come out, destroying his chances in running for the Senate. The movie revolves around Blake's attempts to retrieve the fingerprint card, and the FBI's attempts to connect the murders of those FBI staff Blake uses to get the card with, to them, the unknown killers-at-large.
The first clerk, Natalie Craig (played by Margie Dean), takes the fingerprint card, but is killed in an auto accident. Even though later in the film when agent Donley (George Brent) and Stedman know they are looking for John Williams's fingerprint card, Donley says, "There must be 10,000 John Williams's!" and they both hopelessly give up the quest in looking for it in the files. Well, Natalie had had no trouble finding it, and neither does file clerk Shirley who later takes it to Blake. As a police procedural, this is no 'Dragnet' (1951-1959).
The governor is relieved it is over after Blake burns the card in a fireplace. As if there were only one copy of his real fingerprints in the country! What about where he was convicted? And where were any witnesses or evidence to connect him to his past life? This whole McGuffin is preposterous, but Burr has us almost believing in it in spite of all these improbables.
For too many scenes, the director and cinematographer have the characters moving from stage left to stage right where the camera is, and we see much of the dialog coming from the back of someone's head. No cut to a second camera to see their faces. The director was obviously not bothered by these shots. Jack Greenhalgh, the cinematographer, did over 200 films (mostly for Poverty Row studios like PRC and Lippert), including the classic 'Tell Your Children' (1936), which we know and love as 'Reefer Madness,' and then went on to do his other masterpiece, 'Robot Monster' (1953).
Oh, if only Ed Wood had been involved in this film! He would have added dialog to raise it to even more absurd heights, and would have overseen even worse photography, juxtaposing bizarre stock footage and a feebly weird soundtrack. Oh, wait! He did just that in his masterwork 'Glen or Glenda' (1953) featuring Bela Lugosi.
The quality seasoned acting skills of the principal players beguile you into accepting the film's premise, at least until the ending when you realize the plot hasn't made any sense. The performance of Burr, and those of Romero, Totter and Drake help the film, but ultimately it's only a 4.