Showing posts with label Everett Sloane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Everett Sloane. Show all posts

Thursday, 28 January 2021

Patterns (1956)



 

When Fred Staples is recruited onto the board of a high-powered New York corporation, he finds his ethics and ambition at odds. 

Electrifying business drama based on an excellent Rod Serling play convinces with its intensity and high-class performances.

Halliwell***: "Tense little boardroom melodrama with domestics asides, one of the best of the filmed TV plays of the mid-fifties."

Maltin***1/2: "Trenchant, masterfully acted drama of greed and abuse of power in corporate America..."  



Wednesday, 15 July 2020

Journey Into Fear (1943)



An American ballistics expert in Turkey finds himself targeted by Nazi agents. Safe passage home by ship is arranged for him, but he soon discovers that his pursuers are also on board.

Entertaining spy drama with a suspenseful plot full of twists shows some of Orson Welles style, but is obviously not fully his intended product.

Halliwell***: "Highly enjoyable impressionist melodrama supervised by Orson Welles and full of his touches and excesses."

Maltin***: "Often baffling WW2 spy drama...still exciting."

Thursday, 14 May 2015

The Lady from Shanghai (1947)



Fascinated by a beautiful woman, a seaman joins a bizarre yachting cruise, and ends up mired in a complex murder plot.

Brilliant Noir fantasy with excellent Expressionist  photography and a tongue-in cheek twisted plot.

Halliwell**: "Absurd, unintelligible, plainly much cut and rearranged, this thriller was obviously left too much in Welles's hands and then just as unfairly taken out of them; but whole sequences of sheer brilliance remain, notably the final shoot-out in the hall of mirrors."

Maltin***: "The camera's the star of this offbeat thriller, with the cast incidental in murder mystery...The famous hall of mirrors climax is riveting."


Sunday, 26 April 2015

The Big Knife (1955)


A big-time movie star refuses to sign a binding contract with a Louis B. Mayer-like mogul, but is blackmailed to do so.

Sharp and acrid satire on Hollywood, but also stagebound and talkative; and despite Jack Palance giving all his effort, it's awkward to see him as an oversensitive and tormented artist.

Halliwell*: "Overheated argument between Art and Mammon, with rather disagreeable people shouting at each other, for too long a time. Limited interest is provided by the acring."

Maltin***: "...involving (albeit overheated) drama...Fine performances almost overcome stereotypes; Steiger chews the scenery as a despotic studio head."