The Man from Morocco

This film is worth watching only for its cinematography, which is sustained in enjoyable beauty all the way. The actors are good, Anton Walbrook is always worth watching, and Margaretta Scott is not bad either, but the script is a shambles. What could have been a good and great story, there are hopes for it through two thirds of the film, but then it gets all messed up, as Reginald Tate as the rotten scoundrel Ricardi is a total failure, and every time he comes back into the picture, it gets worse. The finale is a pitfall, an artifical end pasted on just to finish off the misery of a bad script, which makes the sum of the film a total disaster. Its marvellous cinematography saves it and makes it enjoyable, if you can put a blind eye to to the awkward spies. This was the last film that Mutz Greenbaum (Max Greene) directed, while he continued as a cinematographer in many films. Maybe he felt it himself, that in spite of his meticulous direction and splendid cinematograhy, saving his art and expertise from a bad script was not really what he was meant for.