User reviews

"The most sickening exhibition of brutality, perversion, sex and sadism ever to be shown on a cinema screen." Thus did The Monthly Film Bulletin judge St John Clowe's film adaptation of No Orchids For Miss Blandish (aka: Black Dice) upon its appearance in 1948, reflecting the almost universal shock and disapproval of the British critical fraternity. Not until the equally vehement rejection of Peeping Tom, over a decade later, would a film face such an onslaught. Audiences, it must be said, found the movie to their liking despite, or because of, the opprobrium and where it was shown, takings were excellent.

Violent and (for it's time) sexually suggestive, lurid and melodramatic, nothing St John Clowe's movie contained pleased critics more happy with a realistic tradition of filmmaking, or middle-class literary adaptations for discriminating audiences. In retrospect the categorisation of No Orchids For Miss Blandish seems less problematical. Neither sophisticated literary screen transposition nor completely convincing gangster piece, laced with titillation, and with roots in trash culture, These days the movie is better seen as a landmark of British crime exploitation cinema.

At its heart lays a love story: that between Slim Grisson and Miss Blandish. It's a tragic tale too; not just because of the end which awaits the couple, but also in that Grisson is shown as being a fervent, secret admirer of the heiress from the very first scene (his distinctive double dice emblem on the card accompanying flowers) and so, ultimately, is just as much a victim of events as she. His tragedy is that he soon finds himself overseeing the kidnapping of the woman he loves, while Miss Blandish has the misfortune of falling for someone entirely unsuitable, socially or morally.

But without the sexual experience he brings she would, it seems, be condemned to eternal frigidity. It is no accident that, early on, her fiancé refers to the "ice in her veins" which needs 'melting'. Indeed one of the many things critics found unacceptable in the movie was the depiction of a woman's sexual awakening, particularly when tied to a liaison out of her class - something miles away from the usual Noel Coward-type drawing room infatuation. It's a scenario helped by some sensitive direction by St John Clowe, in a work characterised over all by some fluid camera-work.

Some have criticised the director for clumsiness, but I can't see it. To give a standout example: although we know Grisson is 'stuck' on the heiress, nothing is said between them, except for a barely perceptible nod at her by the hoodlum after their first shock meeting. At a crucial moment later St John Clowe has Grisson, clearly thinking of the woman, walk slowly up his nightclub stairs, a fairly long crane shot. His impassive face is briefly superimposed onto hers. Then in the love scene which follows she leaves him, wavers, and comes back after a tense delay - events mostly off-screen. We still do not see them together, merely (for the second time) some orchids, and his words of relief spoken over the held flower shot. For a film so explicit elsewhere, the restraint and sensitivity of direction here is striking.

As Slim Grisson, Jack La Rue is impressive; more so when one remembers that it is almost half an hour before he is first seen on screen at all. A performance over-indebted to George Raft maybe - his habitual dice throwing recalling the American star's famous coin-tossing trademark - but still touching as a love-lorn thug and whose regular lack of expression and stolid soulfulness says more than any amount of mugging could do. As Miss Blandish, Linden Travers has attracted good words, too.

Others in the cast, even allowing for the variable American accents, are admittedly less strong. Ma Grisson (Lilli Molnar), who starts out, Ma Barker-fashion, as the leader of the gang, is less menacing that one might have wished; 'Doc' the Sydney Greenstreet-type among the supporting cast is too much of a stereotype to be convincing. However, mention ought to be made of Walter Crisham's Eddie, Grisson's frightening henchman, a very intimidating and malevolent presence. While some aspects of No Orchids For Miss Blandish have been ridiculed, the budget was obviously quite a reasonable one; the nightclub fairly expansive and convincing for instance, allowing the director a chance for multiple set-ups.

Of course the club, Grisson, and his followers are a world away from Miss Blandish's previous social circle. In a way characteristic of British noir and thrillers, the film has a firm idea of class; not only in the separation of crooks and toffs, but upstairs and downstairs (the working class lovers overhearing the conversation of their betters from the basement, at the start), as well. Even the underworld has its social structure, one which the 'success' of the Grisson gang is contrasted to the smaller group doing the initial kidnapping. Only love, it seems, can cross these boundaries, but then such romance is fraught with risk. For Miss Blandish, her new relationship brings 'freedom', this from the "first man I've ever met" - a slight emphasis on 'man' when she speaks, implying the anaemia of the class she has just rejected.

To those who wish to discover what all the fuss was about, I can say that the film may be variable, but entertaining and memorable. It's certainly an important document of Britain's cinematic underbelly. No plaudits for Miss Blandish perhaps, but no outright dismissal here either.

This forgotten movie caused one of the biggest scandals in the history of the British cinema. Its violence was stronger than pre-war producers had been allowed, but it somehow slipped past the censor.

The original novel had been judged unfilmable by Hollywood, but the Poverty Row studio Renown set out to prove the moguls wrong. The resultant outcry led Harold Wilson, a future premier who was the government minister responsible for films, to declare at an industry banquet- to loud applause- that he was glad there were "no Oscars for Miss Blandish".

The fuss probably killed the career of Linden Travers, who had been in pictures since the mid-1930s but made no more appearances after 1949, dying 52 years later. Neither did its helmer, St John L Clowes, ever direct again. Interestingly, as far as I know the picture to this day has never appeared on British TV.

That, and other cheerful little catch phrases spoken as gangster slang in this gangster melodrama (British-style), are spoken by a cast of British actors given some hilarious tough guy talk.

In this terse screenplay they need little prodding to slug someone with a fist or a gun while the plan is to kidnap and rob a wealthy socialite who turns out to have a yen for the lead criminal (AL LA RUE). He has a role crying out for an American actor like Bogart or Garfield if this were a Warner melodrama. La Rue does alright but he's about as wooden as George Raft when it comes to delivering key lines with any enthusiasm.

LINDEN TRAVERS is the pretty socialite captured by a bunch of thugs and falling quickly into the Patty Hearst syndrome when she becomes a willing victim willing to escape the sheer boredom of her life as a pampered daughter of a wealthy aristocrat.

HUGH McDERMOTT is the detective set on her trail by her father who only wants to free her from captivity. It all feels like a Mickey Spillane thriller with little sympathy for any of the victims who get shot for the slightest infringement at a moment's notice.

The nightclub scenes seem to have been inspired by GILDA ('46), with a songstress rendering a non-too-subtle rendition of a torch song in a flimsy peekaboo dress while around her all sorts of plotting and planning is going on somewhere in the dark.

Not bad, but don't expect the dialog to have the sharp touch intended. "Drop your anchor in that chair," is about the best you can expect between all the slapping and punching and gunshots that abound in every other scene. The gangster slang gets a workout and some of the jargon is downright hilarious.

This is one of the roughest movies I've ever seen. I won't give anything away but, wow! The body-count is high.

Linden Travers looks lovely in the title role. This actress was, generally associated with a different sort of film. She's beautiful and elegant. But she gives this part her all.

"No Orchids For Miss Blandish" is a British movie trying to seem an American. For us today, that's very much a reversal: How often do American movies try to put on the dog and portray the British! Unfortunately, the movie at hand doesn't really succeed. We don't believe it's taking place in the US. Even though we're shocked at the nonstop violence, we don't believe the story fully, either.

Jack La Rue is good in the male lead. He was American. He is convincing.

I wish I could say I recommend this as more than a curiosity. Ms. Travers is indeed superb. But it isn't terribly good. Not bad but, apart from the exceptional violence, nothing special either.

To my mind the movie was a failure because of the acting, but largely because these virtually all British actors (except La Rue) were straining to fake American accents, and that caused their intonation to be 'off.' Everything sounded poorly acted, but sometimes I would imagine the actors speaking their lines in their native British accents and they would be fine.

They could have just made it as a British drama, but then it might have seemed unbelievably violent for that culture... even as "American" the violence never seemed as motivated as it is in noir and gangster films in the USA of the era.

It remains a very peculiar film. The relationship of Ma to Slim was never fully clarified, either.

Forget the dumb title! This English Noir throws in every Hollywood cliché of the genre, and almost pulls it off smoothly. Certain plot points will remind you of some big American films, like "White Heat" and "The Asphalt Jungle", although this one came first. The "unacceptable" aspects, production code-wise, will surprise you, and the unpredictability of the plot is pretty wonderful in a film from this era. Look out for spoilers on this one! Hardworking actor Jack La Rue does nothing wrong in a role that begs for Bogart-- as so many past and present roles do.(He always reminds me of a sort of composite Bogie, Glenn Ford, and Victor Mature, especially here, without having quite their class, soul or looks, respectively.) And Linden Travers does everything she can with a practically impossible role-- you can't help but think that she could have used a little more help from director Clowes with the exposition. We don't expect noir, where style should come before substance, to be "believable" in the usual sense, but check this one out and see if it puts you in mind of how strong direction tells us what we know and can't see. If you like noir, and can roll with the punches, you'll love it.

This British gangster thriller from a sensationalistic American crime novel by James Hadley Chase (also filmed on its home ground in 1971 by Robert Aldrich as THE GRISSOM GANG) is notorious for how awful it is, some claiming it "among the worst ever made", others "certainly the most bizarre British film"! This unenviable reputation (which the writer-director could not attempt to alter or otherwise exploit since he would die at age 40 that same year!) has actually turned it into a cult, enabling a R1 SE DVD from VCI.

Having been impressed with the Aldrich version and being something of a sucker for bad cinema (especially from this vintage), I acquired the film immediately when the opportunity presented itself though I only got to watch BLANDISH now as part of my ongoing Noir marathon. As often happens, the movie is nowhere near the stinker most claim it to be: granted, the performances are hilariously over-the-top (thus a fount of entertainment in itself!), the would-be American accents do not fool anyone (there is even future "Carry On" stalwart Sidney James, for cryin' out loud, not to mention a stand-up comic amusingly spoofing the Hollywood double-act of Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre!) and, frankly, the gall of it all makes the experience that much more fascinating, almost hypnotic!

In comparison with the later version (but typical of its era), the leads here are over-age: they are Jack LaRue (the only genuine Yank in the cast: incidentally, he is far removed from the Mama's Boy as played by Scott Wilson in the remake) and Linden Travers (previously noted for supporting parts in spy thrillers like Hitchcock's superb THE LADY VANISHES [1938], she is the personification of elegance rather than Kim Darby's society brat). Incidentally, both novel and film(s) were criticized for glorifying violence (this is indeed quite brutal for the time) and the notion of 'Amour Fou' since the kidnapped heiress ends up falling for her psychotic captor. Other notable characters are the obese Mob-leading mother (Lilly Molnar), a no-less unhinged member of the gang who becomes involved with the girl who ultimately gives them away (Walter Crisham 'standing in' for Tony Musante), a thuggish cohort (played by Danny Green, later of THE LADYKILLERS [1955]), and a crusading reporter (a much-younger Hugh McDermott 'replacing' Robert Lansing).

The photography (by Gerald Gibbs) is reasonably atmospheric, smoothing over the general amateurishness on display, and there is another definite asset in its lush score. However, one major difference from the obviously superior remake is the film's surprisingly downbeat ending. For the record, I recently acquired another rare Hadley Chase adaptation, the French-made FLESH OF THE ORCHID (1975) – co-scripted by Luis Bunuel regular Jean-Claude Carriere!

Considering the appalling state of Britain in 1947 when the film was made, it was a valiant attempt to copy such magnificently noir American films like "This Gun For Hire" and "The Blue Dahlia". That's about the best one could say about the film. However, it failed very badly, even considering how long ago it was made. It wasn't the cinematography, the camera-work or the sets that let it down - they ranged from acceptable to quite good - it was the casting. Obviously made on a shoestring budget, the actors almost without exception couldn't act; sometimes laughably obviously - and certainly not using American accents. Playing the heavies that they were aping from the Hollywood product they had studied - Alan Ladd, Bogey, Gloria Graham, Shelley Winters, et al - they resorted to the sneering rather than the menacing. The violence that the critics objected to was certainly there - innocent by today's standards - but the performances, the dialogue and even the body language, to say the least, were strictly out of amateur rep. I'm not at all surprised that the director never directed again.

"No Orchids for Miss Blandish" is an excellent British film noir picture. Its greatest strength is its script--which avoids sentimentality and has a hard edge that makes it a big tougher than its American cousins.

Miss Blandish is a young lady whose father is immensely wealthy. Additionally, her diamonds have caught the eyes of some petty thugs who are planning on robbing her. This robbery turns out to be super- vicious and in the process, two of the robbers are killed. The remaining crook is a swell guy--who not only plans on taking the diamonds but raping Blandish! However, just before he can complete this vicious act, another gang (headed by Slim---played by Jack LaRue) takes the diamonds and kills the remaining thug. At first, this second gang plans on keeping the diamonds and ransoming the woman, but Slim falls for the lady and soon decides to not only keep her for himself but return the jewels! This, of course, doesn't sit well with the gang and you know it's only a matter of time before they make their move.

This is an incredibly violent film for the time. Not only is the attempted rape heavily implied, but the very end is really, really violent--and fortunately does NOT give way to sentiment. Overall, a very gritty film with great gangster dialog and lots to appreciate.

By the way, one reviewer complained how bad the accents were, as the cast was mostly British and they were pretending to be Americans. Well, I thought this was barely noticeable most of the time and didn't think this impaired the film at all. Sure, a few of the attempts were downright silly...but don't take away from the great noir plot, atmosphere and horrifyingly realistic violence. Just my two-cents worth.

At the time this was released, some 65 years ago, the critics mauled it and not just that, they were furious. The eminent reviewer, Dillys Powell, suggested it should have been awarded a 'D' certificate, for 'disgusting' and the censor later apologised for having mislead the public into seeing something they perhaps shouldn't have. Monthly Film Bulletin used the words, 'sickening', 'brutality','perversion' and 'sex & sadism'. Well, needless to say it doesn't live up to all that, though a tender reviewer on this site in 2006 slammed it as 'the toughest film I have seen'. It's British and based upon the infamous book of the same title by the Brit, James Hadley Chase and well worth seeing. You will be surprised at the violence and sexual reference, considering the time, but you will survive.

I was curious because I heard that Kenneth Branagh did this on stage when he was very young. The movie, from 1948, is very violent and determinedly low in life, but the unpleasantness is off-set by how poor the performances are and how unbelievable the behaviour. When the actors move they're especially somnamulant. Not good enough to be funny, or I should say bad enough, really, as the great bad films, such as Plan 9 From Outer Space, or The Room, achieve.

The story is set in the USA but the actors and source material are British, and the amount of pretence involved to achieve accents and noir genre trappings, is too much for any audiences, historic or contemporary, to suspend disbelief. We are in Disbelief midtown.

Watch this only to make yourself love the classic noirs all the more.

This is the first version of James Hadley Chase's famous shocker. It was remade as "The Grissom Gang" in 1971 by Robert Aldrich. As a writer Chase made a fortune, despite getting atrocious reviews from British critics. The movie was no exception regarding reviews; some sample quotes... ...the most sickening exhibition of brutality, perversion, sex and sadism...the morals are about level with those of a scavenger dog...it has all the sweetness of a sewer...the worst film I have ever seen.

I saw it when I was sixteen and I loved it, even buying the record of the background music (Song Of The Orchid). It had a mostly British cast with one imported American *star* Jack La Rue. It would be interesting to see it again fifty years later. I imagine the violence everyone complained of would seem pretty tame by today's standards.

I guess the censors were on a lunch break when this film came before them. Or perhaps the Brits didn't have a censorship program like we had.

"No Orchids for Miss Blandish" is a film ahead of its time, for sure, one filled with brutality, sex, and implied rape. Apparently upon its release it caused a big hullabaloo. Various councils banned the film and the lead censor had to apologize! The story concerns a woman with an insanely rich father, the aforementioned Miss Blandish (Linden Travers) whose $100,000 diamonds are stolen, she is kidnapped, and her boyfriend is killed (in an awful scene) by thugs led by Slim (Jack LaRue). Though she has witnessed a murder and there is pressure for him to kill her, Slim returns the diamonds to her and tells her to leave. He's fallen in love with her, and she with him. This leads to lots of problems.

There are so many murders and people turning on one another in this film that I lost count. The story for me was highly implausible, with not enough fleshing out of the characters to make their actions believable.

Despite the fact that this is supposed to be an American gangster story, it had a distinctive British feel to it. The acting was good, even though apparently it was a career-wrecker for some of the performers, Linden Travers being among them.

Not what I was expecting by a long shot and for me it was short on characterizations and long on violence. Still, it's worth seeing as an artifact of not only British cinema, but of its time.

No Orchids for Miss Blandish is noir crime thriller set in America but it is a British production made in the UK.

Rich girl Miss Blandish (Linden Travers) has an admirer who sends her orchids. She is engaged to be married but her fiance tells her that she is icy.

One night Miss Blandish is kidnapped for her jewellery, her fiance is beaten to death, some of the gang members end up killing each other.

The leader of the gang takes Miss Blandish to a ramshackle place and plans to rape her but he is interrupted by the more powerful and vicious Grissom gang.

The gang is led by the matriarch Ma Grisson. It is the ruthless Slim Grissom (Jack La Rue) who is the real leader. He sets Miss Blandish free but she returns to him, maybe realising that he is the secret admirer who sent her those orchids.

The immediate attraction between Miss Blandish and Slim is difficult to take. It happens too fast even though we gather he was smitten by her already. The director maybe needed to leave room that Miss Blandish was attracted to a bad boy like Slim.

Of course their romance dooms these two people, her father sends a detective on her trail. This a drama where gang members turn on each other and the body count is high. Assisted by the psychotic Eddie Schultz (Walter Crisham) a member of the Grissom gang. The film gained notoriety because of its violence and suggestion of rape.

The film could had been more tightly plotted. There are too many British actors turning up, some do not even bother doing a passable American accent. Yet it is an interesting noir film for British cinema. It owes a debt to the pre code Hollywood movie, The Story of Temple Drake which also starred Jack La Rue in a more sadistic role.

Proof that the British can make a Hollywood gangster film as phoney as one made in Burbank set in Britain, this movie's far too much fun to be as bad as it's reputation. Most of the usual suspects are present and correct in support, with Lilly Molnar a memorable gorgon as Ma Grissom; while the least funny thing in it is the scene with the nightclub comedian.

James Hadley Chase was a prolific British crime writer whose books were so fast paced that "page turner" was the phrase invented to describe them and there was often a totally unexpected plot twist that would surprise even his most die hard fans. Initially his books had an American setting with gangster and New York vernacular interspersed with visits to the cinema and rides on omnibuses etc but by the mid 1940s he tried a different approach and started to set them in the London underworld.

"No Orchids for Miss Blandish" was originally a West End play in 1942 and unlike the movie which wasn't appreciated in it's day, the play was praised and ran for 203 performances. Beautiful Linden Travers was the coolly seductive heiress Miss Blandish in the play and she repeated her role in the movie. She is due to be married but her fiance finds her cold and aloof, she is also being sent orchids by an unknown admirer with cryptic messages ie "don't do it". Her maid is being romanced by a small time hoodlum who, in dire need of money, tries to peddle his idea of stealing the heiress' diamond necklace, to a small gang of thugs. However the Grissom gang gets wind of it and the robbery goes horribly wrong with a violent shootout which leaves her in hysterics.

The buildup to Jack La Rue's appearance is big - Slim's ruthlessness is talked about in hushed terms and in a scene eerily reminiscent of the one in "The Story of Temple Drake", viewers will not be disappointed. For fans who know La Rue through his early 1930s work - he is the only actor who could have pulled this off. His sadistic brutality, in stark contrast with the almost elegant romantic - two people, not quite put together right, find their soulmate!!

Based (I think) on the Ma Barker gang legend, Slim's mother, equally as vicious as her son, runs the Grissom Club with a rod of iron but questions are raised as to Slim's worthiness to lead the gang as bit by bit his affection and love for Miss Blandish starts to humanize him and they even dream of fleeing to a foreign country to start life again. This film is so ahead of it's time - the only false note are the American accents (Sidney James was to be a repeat offender). The whole atmosphere seemed to have more in common with the street thuggery of the London underworld of the Krays, than the type of setting that was the American crime movie of the late 1940s. The violence leaves you feeling breathless, half the gang members are psychotic - one pistol whips the original instigator of the robbery leaving him for dead - there's no second chance for any of them. MacDonald Parke who played Doc, a Sidney Greenstreet type character, had a unique way of holding his cigarette and you know you are in rough company when even the reporter packs a gun and is not afraid to use it!!

Highly Recommended

A British production where the story took place at New York mixing American and British actors to conceal the hard accent from the island, in others words an attempt to make an Americanized movie on England, maybe for be easily accepts on profitable USA's marketplace, they strive stiffly to do an American slang with expected outcomes, the story is complex and unusual, but works somehow, moreover engrossing, nonetheless the Grisson gang on early movie disagree to make part of a robbery of a diamond necklace, due it shall draw attention from everybody about the victim's high society position, it's seems a wrong move for an eligible gang, also too much brutal, cold with gratuitous violence, a true counterpoint over Slim Grisson (Jack La Rue) sudden changing, further the journalist Fenner (Hugh McDermott) plays an amoral character as easily seen in many sequences, Miss Blandish has a strong sex appeal, although a lack of the intellect when she decides stays with poisoned Slim Grisson, put him in unremitting jeopardy as much as the police as by their greedy mates, the bystanders assess readily no future for both at sight, rather predicable, in between we can see two colorful characters, the Doc (Macdonald Parke) guided by psychological instincts and the skinny Eddie Schultz (Walter Crisham) a sort of an stereotyped tough gangster, worthwhile take a look!!

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First watch: 2020 / How many: 1 / Source: DVD / Rating: 7.25

When this movie first appeared it was excoriated as vile, filthy, depraved, you name it. What a disappointment! The people who got in a lather must have based their indignation solely on the book, which IS very violent and disturbing. There is less violence in this movie than in the gangster films of the Thirties, especially Jimmy Cagney's, and less perversion than in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Miss Blandish, with her cut-glass debutante accent, exudes no passion, nor does her gangster lover. When they kiss, mushy romantic music plays! at one point the camera pans to a fireplace! This could be Ginger Rogers in Kitty Foyle for all the depravity going on. The script is tame and dull, the direction plodding, the acting terrible. Everyone tries to be very tough and American, but they've got Made in Twickenham stamped on their foreheads, and can't keep up their imitations of American accents without making a few slips (how many American gangsters' molls say "cahn't"?). Plus there are several nightclub acts which are, to use authentic American slang of the period, strictly from hunger.

Wealthy heiress Miss Blandish (Linden Travers) is kidnapped by the gang of Slim Grissom (Jack La Rue) and held for ransom. Slim falls for Miss Blandish, complicating matters, as does an investigative reporter (Hugh McDermott).

I've heard about this movie for years, but for all of the wrong reasons. I've heard that it was controversial at the time of its release due to the violence and immorality on display, but that it was a big hit in the UK, regardless. What I hadn't heard was just how delightfully terrible it is. Technically its not too bad, with decent cinematography and lighting. But the acting, the story and the dialogue are howlingly bad. I spent the first half hour of the movie trying to figure out if it was supposed to be set in 1948 or 1928, based on the corny Jazz Age slang employed by some of the characters and some of the costumes seemingly lifted from Little Caesar or Scarface. It's set in 1948, though, so it makes everything just that more off.

A major factor in the strange badness of this movie is the decision by a British film company, filming in Britain, and using predominantly British actors and actresses, to make a film set in New York, with all American characters. Very few of the actors manage a passable American accent, so the already-bad dialogue takes on a whole other dimension, as does the overblown acting by a few, notably Walter Crisham as nasty gang member Eddie and Michael Balfour as seedy drunk Barney. Star Jack La Rue, no doubt going for a jaded Bogart vibe, instead comes across as the love child of Desi Arnaz and Robert Strauss. He and Linden Travers romance scenes are among the least convincing parts of the whole production, but it leads to one of the more ludicrous finales in film history.

If you couldn't tell by now, I really enjoyed No Orchids for Miss Blandish, in the way that only a truly great bad movie can provide. On a serious critical scale I'd give it a 3/10, but for enjoyment, it's a solid 9/10.

I have wanted for a while to see this now "rare" British noir effort because I have heard so much about it--the controversy it stirred up, the sex, the violence, and so on (you can find all about that elsewhere). Saw it just the other night on TCM. Other reviews have correctly pointed out its (hardly surprising) acute awareness of social class. A preoccupation never very far away in British film, as indeed in British culture more generally. This can be a good thing, or a bad, depending on the treatment. One thing that American films have always tended to do--with many excellent exceptions, though most tellingly, from Hollywood's earliest years--is pussyfoot around questions of class (disclosure: I'm a Brit, resident in the US for twenty years-- so I can say this much: don't believe anyone who tells you that, in contradistinction to stuffy old Britain, the US is a refreshingly "classless" society. That is, as they say back "home," rubbish). The chief problem here is the attempt to make a British copy of an American noir. It doesn't work. Much better when the British stuck to British themes in British locales with British accents. Trevor Howard's "I Became a Criminal" is a far superior work for instance--as is the screen adaptation of Graham Greene's "Brighton Rock." Dassin's British set "Night and the City" is also streets ahead. Having said that, the film is competently directed, and is eminently watchable (if also instantly forgettable). You won't be wanting to watch it again and again, like perhaps you might Wilder's Double Indemnity or Curtiz's Mildred Pierce.