Cast:
Charles Laughton (Philip Marshall), Ella Raines (Mary Gray), Dean Harens (John Marshall), Stanley Ridges (Inspector Huxley), Henry Daniell (Gilbert Simmons), Rosalind Ivan (Cora Marshall), Molly Lamont (Mrs. Edith Simmons), and Raymond Severn (Merridew) Directed by Robert Siodmak (#468 - Son of Dracula and #797 - People on Sunday)
Review:
Sure, perhaps there is something captivating about how obscure a movie is, because there certainly are a handful of thriller adaptations to come across when studying the 1940s, but surely there is a good reason why this one fell through the cracks. Maybe it was the title, because there are at least six other movies out there with that title. The film is an adaptation of the book This Way Out, which was written by James Ronald. As such, the screenplay was done by Bertram Millhauser and Arthur T. Horman. The film was directed by Robert Siodmak, probably best noted for his future effort in The Killers (1946) in a 39-year career, and he was given the task of handling an actor that apparently suffered from bouts of uncertainty. Of course, Laughton was an Academy Award winning actor that could play classical or modern parts, so who wouldn't take the risk if you are Universal Pictures? Besides, he had the name value that compared well when faced with a mix of American and British character actors with either some experience behind them (like Ridges or Daniell) or less (Raines).
It turns out one has a very mediocre thriller on their hands, one that is about as hypnotic as an old frog. The aspects that are interesting prove to be flourishes rather than anything particularly interesting, whether that involves a somewhat interesting chemistry between Laughton and Raines or the idea of some sort of actual suspense in the crime angle. The 85 minutes are brisk, but it probably isn't surprising that the film did not exactly become a known name since its premiere in 1944. The streets of 1902 seem nearly comatose when it comes to characters with complexity or challenge, if only because the main character's weakness is being too decent. So yes, it is probably the politest portrait of a murderer one could watch, which means that it is more of a Laughton showcase. To be fair, he does deliver an interesting performance here, since this is a middle-aged role that requires a bit of earthy presence (i.e., not just a smart-mouthed youth), one that needs patience and dignity, and you get the idea. There isn't a hammy performance with him on this one, since he calmly walks through the film with no trouble in displaying the quandaries presented here, maneuvering through the slowly building gears of turmoil while trying to stay as himself, which only seem to make him burrow down rather than up even after one is done seeing the chemistry-building scenes with Raines, since that is generally the most curious part of the movie in seeing the mismatch (well, whatever you want to call it). Besides, Ivan and Daniell are only mildly interesting as the heels to Laughton, ones who aren't exactly the kind of folks you frown to see go away - one knows crime doesn't pay (to the standards of the film board of the time) anyway. Ridges is stuck in the middle with no real distinguishing qualities that seems a problem when one is trying to see an investigation and trap take place. You would think the poison sequence would generate something other than mild bemusement, but not quite. There is an attempt of distinguished air here that doesn't seem fitting for a movie that begs for something more, as if you know what you are getting into before you really see it. One sort of struggles to say things about the movie beyond just Laughton, because if had included a lesser actor, one could have lapsed into a snooze. But, since here we are with this, I guess you won't be irritated too much. Honestly, this is a toss-up kind of movie, where one will either find it to be splendid enough despite its failings or just too unremarkable to be worth one's time. For me, I just can't see myself recommending it.
Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.
