|
|
Posted by IAIN MCLACHLAN on 01/12/06 02:11
THE MAN FROM TANGIER
(UK 1957)
Variant Title: THUNDER OVER TANGIER.
RT: 66 mins
Pro Co: Butcher's Film Productions
Dir: Lance Comfort;
Pro: W.G. Chalmers;
Wr: P. Manning O'Brine;
Pro Assoc: Barry Delmaine.
Phot: Geoffrey Faithfull;
Film Ed: Peter Mayhew;
Mus Dir: Wilfred Burns;
Art Dir: John Stoll.
Camera Ops: Des Davis, Eric Williams.
Cast: Robert Hutton, Lisa Gastoni, Martin Benson, Derek Sydney, Leonard
Sachs, Emerton Court, Richard Shaw, Robert Raglan, Harold Berens, Jack
Allen, Michael Balfour, Frank Forsyth, Reginald Hearn, Fred Lake, Alex
Gallier, Marianne Stone, Frank Singuineau.
SYNOPSIS
Tangier. While trying to retrieve a wooden case hidden below the
floorboards of a building in the city's market area, a criminal called
Montez is gunned down by a rival with the name Armstrong. He makes off with
the case. Later, a man called Voss, together with his assistant, Michelle,
are told of the circumstances surrounding the incident by an Arab hired to
tail Armstrong. The woman had been trying to lure him into a trap set by
her employer, who was also after the contents of the case. Voss surmises
that since his adversary hates flying he will instead used two boats and a
train to reach London where he will find a buyer for the property he holds.
Since Michelle gave Armstrong her London number, she is instructed to fly to
the city, reaching it before him. She has become disgusted by the whole
business that Voss is involved with, which involves him not only dealing
with Armstrong but double-crossing two very dangerous associates in the form
of Heinrich and Darracq, that she refuses his order. Voss then threatens to
alert the authorities to the fact that Michelle is really a displaced person
carrying a forged British passport. She reluctantly agrees. Armstrong
arrives in London at Victoria Station and deposits the case in left luggage
area and places the receipt in his pocket. He does not realise that nearby,
another person is watching him. In a barber shop a short distance away from
the station, American movie stuntman Chuck Collins is having a haircut when
Armstrong walks in. He puts his coat on a rack and requests a shave. After
his haircut, Collins takes what he thinks is his overcoat and leaves.
Shortly after this, Armstrong discovers that his coat is no longer where he
left it. The barber suggests to the increasingly angry customer that
Collins must have taken the coat, which looks exactly like his, in error.
He attempts to contact Collins by phone but without success. He assures
Armstrong that every attempt will be made to retrieve the coat. He tells
him that should the American return that he can be contacted at a local
hotel. Outside Armstrong is still oblivious to his being followed. That
night Collins returns to his flat and receives a call from Armstrong about
the item of clothing and demands that he goes over to his hotel and return
it. Arriving at the hotel, the American is told the number and location of
the room by the establishment's porter. Collins knocks on the door but gets
no reply although some activity can be heard from within the suite. He
writes a note and pushes it under the door. He goes back to the foyer just
as the porter goes on his tea break. Out in the street, Collins hails a
taxi, something witnessed by two bystanders. A short time later, Armstrong
is sent crashing through a window in the hotel and lands in the street. The
American visits a private nightclub where the only patron appears to be him.
Everyone else is away watching a boxing match or listening to it on the
radio. He puts the coat over a chair and fails to notice the left luggage
receipt falling to the floor. At the end of the bout, Collins drunken
friend Rex turns up and announces that he has won a small fortune on the
result of the fight. He suggests a party and urges his friend to call some
of the ladies he works with in the film industry. Collins retrieves an
envelope from a pocket in the coat before realising that it is not his
property. Rex grabs the envelope and notices a London number for a girl
called Michelle. He then phones up Michelle, telling her that he is a
business acquaintance of the person the letter is addressed to, a Mr
Armstrong. Collins decides to come clean and takes over the call to explain
the situation. The woman would rather hear his story in person and makes
arrangements to come to the party.
REVIEW
Although there was a modest profit still to be made by independent British
production companies during the 1950s employing wholly domestic acting
talent from radio, the theatre and the burgeoning television industry, a
number of the more ambitious studios found that their chances of a more
lucrative overseas, especially American, distribution deal were considerably
enhanced by the presence of one or more well-known Hollywood performers
amongst the cast list.
Firms like Merton Park and Hammer/Exclusive, who had a production and
distribution arrangement with Lippert Films in the States, regularly
employed actors whose cinematic career was on the wane, or were trying to
escape the attention of the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC).
Thus, talent as diverse as Forrest Tucker (The Trollenberg Terror 1958), Lex
Barker (Strange Awakening 1958), Jayne Mansfield (Too Hot to Handle 1959),
Richard Denning (Assignment Redhead 1956) and Richard Basehart (The Intimate
Stranger 1956), all earned a crust at some point working in British
B-pictures.
Most of these individuals eventually returned to Hollywood for careers in
television or relocated to Continental Europe, especially Italy. Some,
however, established long-term careers for themselves in the UK such as
William Sylvester (Devils of Darkness 1964), and the star of the film under
review here, Robert Hutton.
Something of a legend within the British film industry, mainly because of
their continued existence, in various guises and incarnations, from the end
of the 19th century until the start of the 1980s, Butcher's are probably
best known for being very prolific suppliers of quota fillers in the areas
of crime thrillers and melodramas between the late 1940s and early 1960s.
The majority of these were adapted from minor novels, provincial theatrical
plays and radio serials. To maintain a consistent level of filmmaking, the
company tended to employ a stock company of familiar supporting and
character actors, together with a recurring group of journeyman production
talent. Many of them appear here, making The Man from Tangier a
quintessential piece of Butcher's cinema from its era.
On this occasion what may be surprising is that, despite the screen credit
"The Man from Tangier by P. Manning O'Brine" implying otherwise, this
venture's screenplay is not an adaptation of an existing source but rather
an original piece of work. This is made even more surprising by the number
of recurring elements found particularly in literary and theatrical
adaptations from the period. Among these is a plot revolving around the
existence of some item of importance to the criminal fraternity left behind
by the Nazis. What was usually involved was lost or stolen gold bullion,
diamonds or counterfeit currency (often US dollars), but here is the means
to create an array of valuable documents of all types.
Another recurring feature is the presence of a sultry foreign woman (Lisa
Gastoni) with a hidden past, along with the presence of a gang of
international villains, with highly suspect accents, led by Martin Benson,
Leonard Sachs and Derek Sydney. Even more than ten years after the end of
World War II, the issue of refugees and other displaced persons was still
providing many British potboilers with background material for spy thrillers
and other tales of foreign intrigue. The only real deviation from the
formula from other films of this type is that rather than the hero being a
professional, along the lines of a detective, journalist or intelligence
agent, Robert Hutton has the rather more exotic occupation of movie
stuntman.
It does not seem entirely outside the realms of possibility that P. Manning
O'Brien's material did in fact begin life as a theatrical venture. That
impression is underlined by the fact that much of the action is limited to a
few sets, important plot information and characterisation is conveyed by
long, static dialogue exchanges and the camera appears to be located from
the front stalls of the theatre. Much of this dialogue is banal and only
succeeds in slowing down the narrative pace of the movie, making its rather
meagre 66 minute running time something of a chore to sit through.
Matters are not helped by Lance Comfort's direction. Comfort had helmed
some major pictures for studios like British National Films, Paramount
British and Associated British Pictures (ABPC), of which Hatter's Castle
(1941), Bedelia (1946) and Daughter of Darkness (1948) are particularly
highly thought of. By mid-1950s, however, Comfort was alternating between
shooting television dramas and churning out generally unremarkable second
features and B-movies for companies like Butcher's, Mancunian, and latterly
Planet. Here he handles the very familiar material in a thoroughly routine
manner. He particularly fails to pull off one of the film's most
potentially exciting sequence where Hutton packs Gastoni's belongings into a
case in her flat, while the armed Benson hides just out of sight in a
wardrobe.
Although Geoffrey Faithfull's deep-focus cinematography adds some lustre to
the proceedings, visually the film unremarkable with little in the way of
imagination or creativity. Comfort and his crew are unable to obscure the
project's meagre resources, notably the bog-standard sets by John Stoll,
whose nightclub venue actually looks more like someone's living room.
One-time Warner Bros contract player Robert Hutton makes for a rather bland,
if not entirely dislikeable hero. Even though his character is a movie
stuntman, he proves something of a liability in a fight, usually coming off
second best in a brawl with the villains or their henchmen. Luckily for
him, they prove to be even more inept that he is, particularly when it comes
to interrogating Armstrong (Emerton Court) and, later, Hutton. They also
appear to be entirely incapable of disposing of troublesome witnesses. The
police, meanwhile, do not inspire much confidence either. Led by the gruff
Robert Raglan, they miss vital clues, arrive at the climax of the film too
late to actually achieve a result, and appear content to merely observe
events as they develop. They could not be described as pro-active.
Glamorous Italian import Lisa Gastoni was largely wasted during her British
movie career that ran for some eight years from 1953. While she is
certainly sultry here, she is given very little to do, apart from being
employed as the typical damsel-in-distress. A potentially fascinating
backstory about her losing her family in the Holocaust is not developed to
any degree, and ends up being a very minor and frustrating plot detail.
Where a low-budget effort like The Man from Tangier is really of interest is
in its position to offer character and bit part actors more substantial
roles than they would normally be allocated when working for larger studios
like Rank and ABPC. Here, the biggest impression is undoubtedly made by one
of the leading supporting players of the 1950s and 1960s, Martin Benson.
Benson easily dominates every scene that he is in with his oily and
reptilian criminal mastermind Voss. He is particularly impressive when
arguing or double-crossing his associates, played by Leonard Sachs and Derek
Sydney, providing some of the movie's few dramatic fireworks.
One other redeeming feature that the production has is the relatively large
amount of location shooting. This provides viewers with a nostalgic view of
London and the Home Counties that either no longer exists or has changed
beyond all recognisable. Among the most striking locations are Victoria
Railway Station, Soho and Portobello Market, from where Lisa Gastoni is
drugged and kidnapped. Interestingly, the mews property where the villains
hole up in later turned up as Johnny Alucard's domicile in Alan Gibson's
late period Hammer vehicle Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972). The exteriors are well
used by Lance Comfort and Geoffrey Faithfull, and inject some much needed
vitality into the proceedings, as well as making the work stand out from
similar studio bound ventures from the same period. Vintage car enthusiasts
should also gain some enjoyment from the picture with marques like Humber
making an appearance.
In a departure from the usual warehouse setting, The Man from Tangier has
its climax in the much more photogenic confines of an airfield near
Nettlefold Studios in Walton-upon-Thames. Here, the villains turn on each
other with pistols, resulting in a surprisingly high body count, while
Hutton proves he has a mean right hook. Although the actual shootout is
ineptly handled by Comfort, the setting is at least more original than was
the norm for such a venture.
The Man from Tangier managed to secure an American release through Republic
Pictures under the title Thunder Over Tangier.
Apart from occasional US ventures like Eugene Lourie's The Colossus of New
York (1958), and his own directorial debut with the cult favourite The Slime
People (1960), Robert Hutton worked largely in the UK until the mid-1970s
when he returned home. His British appearances included a number for
director Freddie Francis such as the Amicus anthologies Torture Garden
(1967) and Tales from the Crypt (1972), as well as many TV roles.
Lisa Gastoni, meanwhile, returned to her native Italy at the start of the
1960s where she worked steadily until the late 1970s. Some of her titles
included Robert Bianchi Montero's peplum Tharus Figlio di Attila (1962),
Antonio Margheriti's sci-fi adventure I Diafanoidi Vengono da Marte (1966),
and Carlo Lizzani's Mussolini: Ultimo Atto (1974).
Author Brian McFarlane has written a biography for Lance Comfort, published
by Manchester University Press.
Iain McLachlan 2006
Navigation:
[Reply to this message]
|