A drama with M. Stone (who again reminded me of both Wayne and Lemmon, with a distinctive trait of intelligence and lucidity), directed by Clifton, in the new austere style that has been taken up in the late '40s, and in fact it resembles many other tiny budget movies made in the late '40s and '50s, including the quirky script and gritty tone. It's also like a 'Twilight Zone' episode. The atmosphere is suitably boosted by an eerie score.
The movie is breathtakingly compelling; given its presumably tiny budget, it's an extravaganza in terms of ideas, with existentialist overtones like the scene of the straitjacket and the roulette (the red herring had been the previous suggestion that the lawyer planned to murder his unfaithful wife).
Stone plays a successful lawyer who has his own burden of a wrecked life; I was reminded of his supporting role in a drama made a decade earlier, about a merciless attorney. The other highlight is the bleak and unusual script, worthy of 'Twilight Zone', much more adult than M. Douglas rebelling in an exploitative early '90s movie once much acclaimed. This one isn't about a crisis, but about bleakness and nihilism. I liked the way Martin Strang dismissed his wife's explaining in the flashback scene.
There are some freakish traits of what some would call exploitation: the unfortunate boy, the serum, the killers themselves, the gambling.
The actress, De Mille's daughter, had the unflattering distinction of being chosen for her uncanny look.
The movie is breathtakingly compelling; given its presumably tiny budget, it's an extravaganza in terms of ideas, with existentialist overtones like the scene of the straitjacket and the roulette (the red herring had been the previous suggestion that the lawyer planned to murder his unfaithful wife).
Stone plays a successful lawyer who has his own burden of a wrecked life; I was reminded of his supporting role in a drama made a decade earlier, about a merciless attorney. The other highlight is the bleak and unusual script, worthy of 'Twilight Zone', much more adult than M. Douglas rebelling in an exploitative early '90s movie once much acclaimed. This one isn't about a crisis, but about bleakness and nihilism. I liked the way Martin Strang dismissed his wife's explaining in the flashback scene.
There are some freakish traits of what some would call exploitation: the unfortunate boy, the serum, the killers themselves, the gambling.
The actress, De Mille's daughter, had the unflattering distinction of being chosen for her uncanny look.