Hit and Run

This story isn't pretty, in fact it's downright scuzzy:

He's old and fat, with a bank account to match his belly. She's young and hungry, with too much peroxide and not enough scruples. Toss in a muscle-bound mechanic with a yen for faux-blonde skanks with alley cat morals and you can be sure that the postman who always rings twice will be heading for the doorbell again.

Welcome to the lower depth digs of Hugo Haas & Cleo Moore, a particularly grimy rung of the film noir inferno. Like most of their collaborations, it plays like a lurid, dog-eared pulp mystery paperback come to life, chock full of murder, mendacity, horny Hungarian junkmen with goulash for brains, Italian studs with sky-high pompadours, and femme fatales with bosoms the size of Tucker Torpedoes.

HIT AND RUN was the final collaboration between writer/director/star/gutter auteur Haas and his slatternly muse Moore. Along for the ride is Vince Edwards as the beefcake buddy who covets his best friend's bride. As with all Haas/Moore noirs, everything they touch turns to pig slop.

All told, it's one of Hugo's better efforts, a compelling, typically feverish riff on the DOUBLE INDEMNITY formula (albeit told from the perspective of the elderly cuckold) festooned with several oddball twists and turns and touches. Well worth seeking out. With Julie Mitchum, Robert's lookalike sister, as an undertaker's sassy wife.