Cast:
Turhan Bey (Alexis), Lynn Bari (Christine Faber), Cathy O'Donnell (Janet Burke), Richard Carlson (Martin Abbott), Donald Curtis (Paul Faber), Virginia Gregg (Emily), and Harry Mendoza (Detective Hoffman) Directed by Bernard Vorhaus.
Review:
Sure, let's do one of these movies. This is one of those films that you find in the bargain bin, the kind that could be seen at any time on the Internet because it slipped into the public domain and therefore is readily available to varying quality. Apparently, the movie actually had a different title: It was known as "The Spiritualist" but somehow the movie was re-issued and put on television as the title you see today in...The Amazing Mr. X. Debate for yourself over which title fits the movie better. Crane Wilbur (the former actor-turned-writer of works such as The Monster) wrote the story that became this movie, which went from being a possible production for him to oversee with Producers Releasing Corporation to being a production led by Bernard Vorhaus at Eagle-Lion Films that had Muriel Bolton turn the story into a script. Vorhaus, not liking the script, asked for a re-write and got the services of Ian McLellan Hunter*. The movie apparently was shot in three weeks that went from January filming to being released in July. Vorhaus was an experienced director for several years, having gone from screenwriting to making quota quickies (i.e. fast and cheap) in England that resulted in movies such as The Last Journey (1936). Apparently, he was a young mentor to David Lean. He returned to the States with Republic Pictures, directing a handful of B-movies and later stuff for the war effort. It was among his last films as an American, as the House Un-American Activities Committee investigation on alleged Communists led to him being blacklisted. He didn't participate in the HUAC hearing and retired to England, where he operated a firm converting houses to offices and shops. He lived there for the remainder of his life, where he died in 2000 at the age of 95.
It helps to have John Alton as a cinematographer, doesn't it? He was the cameraman behind a number of noirs such as He Walked by Night (1948), Raw Deal (1948) and The Big Combo (1955), and he helps the effort here with a movie that at times seems eerie with its angles that make the film interesting to view beyond just a shabby little noir/thriller (well it isn't really any one genre, but whatever).* The 78-minute runtime is fairly satisfying for a movie that doesn't hesitate to just let its audience have a fair shot at following its attempts at showing the troubles of those who may very well believe what they see. You get an odd little caper that mostly is held up with Bey at hand. Bey had been playing a handful of roles on film ever since he had come to the States from Austria but the only reason he was with Eagle-Lion is because his contract had been sold due to struggles with Universal. This was the third of four movies he did for the studio before his career dwindled down, but he at least seems game to be a charming snake in the grass here, selling the audacity required in being involved with trying to play with things that aren't easy to quantify or understand. Bari makes for a quality type to get into the whirlwind of seeing and hearing things that may not be all the way there, mainly because it still seems pretty real now to see people fooled by things they want to hear, particularly since Carlson is probably too ordinary to really contrast the interest obviously generated by Bey, and O'Donnell is merely just fine. In general, it may be an average movie on a first impression, but it eventually finds its footing with stark imagery, sly charm by Bey and a general respect for wanting to keep the audience interested in its arrangement of emotional cons that at least shows you could find a good time with "old movies" if you know where to go.
Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.
*Coincidentally, Vorhaus did uncredited work as an assistant director on Roman Holiday (1953), the movie that notably saw Hunter's name listed on the credits as a writer as a front for the actual work of Dalton Trumbo, which resulted in an Academy Award.
*Interestingly, Alton also wrote a book on the subject of cinematography with Painting with Light in 1949.