User reviews

This is a relatively rare example of a British film noir, but one which can hold its own alongside the more celebrated American variety. Director Cavalcanti's background in documentaries certainly served him in good stead here, bringing complete authenticity to the situations and settings. Still, thanks to Otto Heller's outstanding camera-work and lighting, he manages a number of strikingly cinematic visuals (for instance, the scene where heroine Sally Gray is beaten up by chief villain Griffith Jones).

It features a splendid cast, all of whom deliver excellent performances: Trevor Howard is an unusual hero-type but totally credible; lovely leading lady Sally Gray may come off a bit too good to be true (she initially commits herself to the framed Howard merely because her gangster boyfriend has jilted her for the latter's own fiancée!) but she elicits all the petite sex appeal of a Veronica Lake (meanwhile her love/hate banter with Howard evokes memories of the Robert Donat/Madeleine Carroll pairing from Hitchcock's THE 39 STEPS [1935]); Griffith Jones is a suave yet ruthless leader of a black-market ring (but who gets his just desserts in particularly gruesome fashion); Mary Merrall is Jones' elderly associate, whose level-headedness and experience keeps the violent gangster in check; a young Ballard Berkeley is a sympathetic Scotland Yard man, but who doesn't think twice about using Howard as bait to capture the entire gang; Peter Bull turns up for a bit as a police informer.

The general gloominess (a mainstay of thrillers emanating from the post-war era) is leavened somewhat by its constant flurry of hard-boiled dialogue courtesy of screenwriter Noel Langley. The terrific climax is set inside the gang's 'business' office - a funeral parlor, amusingly named "The Valhalla Undertaking Co.". Still, perhaps my favorite scene in the entire film is Howard's surreal encounter with the zombie-like Vida Hope - in whose household he stumbles while on the run; she turns out to be deranged, and even tries to talk our hero into murdering her alcoholic husband (Maurice Denham)!

As is typical of old films released on DVD by Kino, the quality of the print and transfer leave a lot to be desired - but one has to be grateful still, because otherwise gems such as this one would remain unavailable indefinitely...

Cavalcanti directed this excellent British film noir, "They Made Me a Fugitive," with the then new star, Trevor Howard, as well as Sally Gray, Griffith Jones, and Mary Merrall. Howard plays Clem Morgan, a war hero who joins a black market ring, headed by Narcy (Jones) that does business out of Narcy's funeral business, the contraband entering in coffins. Clem, however, draws the line when he sees them dealing in drugs. He winds up being framed for a killing of a bobby, deserted while he's unconscious in a car. The ex-girlfriend (Gray) of Narcy, the chief criminal, comes to see him in prison, sure he's not guilty. Clem escapes and goes on the run, and reconnects with Gray. She tries to find the witness who can clear him.

Very ahead of its time in its graphic violence, which includes violence toward women. Also, the lead is not a hero, having turned to crime. The ending is also unexpected. My only complaint would be the hitting the audience over the head with the RIP letters on the roof, and also the phrase "It's later than you think," which was possibly the inspiration for its appearance in "Midnight Cowboy." The performances are very good, with Howard, Gray, and Griffith all in top form, and Merrall creates an interesting character. The camera-work is very good also, quite stunning.

Highly recommended - it's nothing like you'd expect.

A British noir as good as the definitive ones being turned out in the States by such consensus masters as Mann, Dassin, and Lewis, to name three. And what about that great ending that still leaves me flabbergasted. Three cheers for a British cinema that apparently was able to operate without the albatross of a Production Code and still not wreck the nation's moral fiber. Needless to say, those final few minutes would never have been allowed Stateside where the scales of justice always triumphed, no matter how the world really works.

Then too, consider the household Howard stumbles into by accident, where the zoned out housewife is only too eager to perforate her boozy hubby. One look at that demented visage and she's a lot scarier than any of the professionals. No wonder Howard flees back to the safety of London's underworld. This may also be the cheapest electricity bill on record since the brightest sound-stage bulb checks in at about 60 watts—they don't call it "noir" for nothing. And keep an ear cocked for some of the snappiest dialogue this side of Dashiel Hammett, especially from that old crone Aggie, who, I shudder to think, might actually be somebody's grandmother.

Not that everything is roses. Some of the set-ups operate only at a stretch. For example, Howard's aim with a milk bottle should have him pitching for the Yankees. And he does it with such casual flair, you'd never guess his life is on the line. Nonetheless, the movie's a real sleeper and should have been exported to our shores a lot sooner. I expect, that daring finale would have inspired our own filmmakers to greater sneaky lengths in subverting the dead hand of Hollywood censorship.

The truth of the matter is that they did a bang-up job in emulating American noir and gangster type films. Why not, the American stuff was going great guns on that side of the pond.

This was pretty heavy stuff for 1947. References to cocaine, brutality towards women, and such goodies are noticeable here. Also noticeable is the noir type anti-hero magnificently portrayed by Trevor Howard, and lots and I do mean lots of shadows.

A rooftop scene was undoubtedly the prototype and inspiration for later movies such as To Catch A Thief.

Don't confuse this with the earlier Hollywood movie, They Made Me A Criminal, which featured John Grfield and the Dead End Kids. There's no similarity between those two films.

Alberto Cavalcanti's THEY MADE ME A FUGITIVE is, to my tastes, the great British Gangster movie and a contender for great Film-Noir as well. At the time of release it was probably overshadowed by BRIGHTON ROCK and THE THIRD MAN, both similar in look and attitude, but what sets FUGITIVE apart is its uncompromisingly bleak realism and pessimistic amorality.

Trevor Howard plays the part of a former R.A.F. pilot who is struggling to survive in the austere post-war era of rationing and comparative boredom of peacetime life.He offers his services to a Black Market racketeer, Narcy, a foppish but lethal character who deals in contraband under cover of his legitimate funeral business.

Narcy and his gang are characters who just didn't appear in British films until GET CARTER came along.They are portrayed as the typical film 'cockney sparrows' of the time but with a difference-they carry flick-knives,knuckle-dusters and even guns.They listen in to the police on a huge radio set. At one point they are seen to knock out a British bobby.-you'd have to be born and raised in Britain in the forties or fifties to realise how what a shock that would have caused at the time of the film's release.

Trevor Howard's character,though,is thoroughly bad in a different way.He is a hero gone wrong,a good chap who lets the side down.When he's in a fight to the death with Michael Brennan he resorts to dirty fighting (very un-British at the time) and even head-butts Brennan.As Howard is creeping into the funeral parlour for the final confrontation with Narcy and his thugs we see a sign with the words ITS LATER THAN YOU THINK,which I believe resurfaced in Herlihy's MIDNIGHT COWBOY.

In conclusion I would like to propose that THEY MADE ME A FUGITIVE should be considered,along with Brighton Rock,Get Carter etc as a prime example of social realism in film.

Well, what have we got here?

We've got a 1946/7 London - rainy, smog- and fog-ridden - swarming with sweaty, sadistic small-time black marketeers, hag-faced toothless harridan prostitutes, rat faced squealers, slimy grasses, heart-of-gold cashmere-wearing Judys, squalid, smoky dockside boozers, and bobbies in mackintoshes and capes (told you it was raining) getting run over and bashed over the coconut.

Enter ex-RAF Clem Morgan (Trevor Howard). He wants a bit of action with a gang led by sharp, smoothie, sadistic, snooker-playing knuckle-duster wielding Narcy (Narcissus)(Griffith Jones) - but he baulks at their drug (sherbert!) dealing side. So he's framed into a cop murder - very heavy stuff in immediate post-war England. But this isn't The Blue Lamp - it's nearer Jules Dassin's famous Night and the City and precedes both.

As well as a crackling script by Noel Langley we've got a runaway fugitive we know is innocent, more bobbies, more rain, and a head-butting, knife-throwing, rooftop-climbing finale.

A great British noir sadly often overlooked. See it!

In the post-war in London, the unemployed and former RAF pilot Clem Morgan (Trevor Howard) is invited by his acquaintance Narcissus "Narcy" (Griffith Jones) to join his gang of smugglers and smalltime thieves that uses a funeral home as headquarter. When Clem sees drugs in a coffin, he decides to leave the gang after his last job looting a warehouse. However Narcy betrays him and activates an alarm, but Clem escapes from the warehouse and gets in Narcy´s car. When the gangster Soapy (Jack McNaughton) is driving the getaway car, Narcy orders him to hit and run a policeman on the street. The car crashes a post and Narcy also hits Clem´s head and flees with Soapy, leaving Clem unconscious in the car. Clem is arrested and convicted for manslaughter and sent to a prison in Dartmoor. When Clem receives the visit of Narcy´s girlfriend Sally Connor (Sally Gray) and learns that his girlfriend Ellie is with Narcy, he decides to escape from prison. Now he is a fugitive and seeks out Soapy to clear his name and Narcy to revenge is betrayal.

"They Made Me a Fugitive" is a good British film-noir with themes that might have impacted the audiences in 1947. There is reference to drug; torture of woman; and wife executing the alcoholic husband. The cast is excellent and the performances are top-notch. The beauty of Sally Gray is ahead of the time. The plot is well-resolved but the woman that kills her husband is forgotten. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil): "Nas Garras da Fatalidade" ("In the Claws of the Fatality")

What a tight, smart movie. The only criticism I can really level at it is that it's not as good as "The Third Man," and that's only because it doesn't have the gravitas of the unconscionable criminality of Harry Lime.

It does have Trevor Howard, as one of the bad guys this time. His riveting performance as a minor-league crook is matched by Griffith Jones's as a major-league mobster. Sally Gray turns in a strong performance too as the femme fatale who, at one point, takes a beating that she withstands stoically until a girlfriend cleans her up and, finally, gives her a cup of tea. It may be that kindness, or perhaps the hot tea on her split lip, you don't know, but Gray breaks down at last and you realize what the beating has done to her.

The pace is swift, but not rushed. Extraneous but fascinating scenes are included-scenes which lead nowhere-- particularly the homicidal lisping woman and her drunken husband who shelter fugitive Trevor Howard in their house for brief but very creepy period.

Every frame is composed with extraordinary care, especially in the climactic scene in the funeral parlor, a scene that reminded me of nothing so much as "Cabinet of Doctor Caligari." There's hardly a right angle in it. The chiaroscuro photography by Otto Heller ("Alfie," "Victim," "Peeping Tom," etc. etc.) is only enhanced by editing that's almost as whip-crack as the dialog.

And as for that superb dialog: film noir movies typically have wisecrack lines, but this Noel Langley screenplay is brilliantly terse-in league with Chandler's work. If any character had two sentences in a row, I didn't notice. It's all lickety-split exchanges, and every line adds definition or motivation to the character speaking.

A personal note: This is the only film I've ever watched which, after it finished, I immediately started it over and watched it again from the beginning. It was that rich, that engaging, and that satisfying.

This one is a damned curious British noir (some, including myself, would generally have that as an oxymoron, but I'm comfortable with the term here, as it really is precisely tapping into post-war malaise and other very recognisable Yankee genre tropes). Nice dialogue too, "He's not even a respectable crook, he's cheap, rotten, after-the-war trash" describing baddie Narcy (short for Narcissus after the Greek myth, well played by Griffith Jones).

Wild child RAF ace Clem (Trevor Howard) is too bored with civvy street after all the shoot-em-ups, Immelmans and ack-ack show. So he decides to try his arm at crookery and ends up with Narcy and his gang, Narcy needs a guy with class. Only things don't go so well so Narcy hangs a frame on Clem and takes his popsy. "What's 'e in for?" "Manslaughter - killing a cop" "That's not manslaughter, that's fumigation".

The rest of the film is the revenge story. It's all nice and dark up to a point, but gets rather too intricate for its own good and sprawls a bit, ending up feeling twenty minutes too long at 1 hr 40 mins. Due to the times there's not much scope for the violence that some scenes in this film pretty much demand according to the dictates of logic. The lack of the effect half of cause and effect makes the climactic scene absurd, and actually had almost the entire theatre at the Edinburgh Film Festival's revival screening in giggles. There's room for humour in a film like this, Hitchcock showed that well, but I think Cavalcanti over-eggs the pudding in the manner of Jon Farrow's American noir of 1951, His Kind Of Woman. The humour came in as a step change rather than equally spread in an even-toned master work. I may of course be in the position of being kind and assuming that the humour was intentional.

They Made Me a Fugitive (AKA: I Became a Criminal) is directed by Alberto Cavalcanti, and adapted to screenplay by Noel Langley from the novel A Convict Has Escaped written by Jackson Budd. It stars Trevor Howard, Sally Gray, Griffith Jones, Rene Ray and Mary Merrall. Music is by Marius-Francois Gaillard and cinematography by Otto Heller.

Ex-RAF man Clem Morgan (Howard) finds civilian life is dull and a struggle for him to ingratiate himself into. Searching for some excitement he is tempted into joining a black market gang fronted by ruthless Narcy (Jones). But Clem and Narcy don't exactly hit it off and when disaster strikes during a getaway, Clem finds himself set up as a fall-guy. So begins a tale of murder, beatings and revenge.

Call it either Brit film noir or spiv crime melodrama, they Made Me a Fugitive is a 100% potent and important movie in the cycle of British crime films that came out in the late 1940's; films that caused quite a stir upon their release. Shifting from wartime propaganda to post-war malaise and the dubious moral conditions of the cities, "Fugitive", and films of its ilk such as Brighton Rock, baited the censors at the BBFC, where although some minor tone downs were used as a compromise, Cavalcanti refused to bow down to any requests for striping the film of its violence and grim social realistic core. His standing was such that the film was passed uncut for release in the summer of 47, thus it was able to shock the contemporary British audience. Sadly American audiences were not so lucky, instead receiving a cut minus 20 minutes, that was released under the title I Became a Criminal in 1948. Suffice to say that the only version to see these days is the one that runs at just under 100 minutes in length.

Hard to believe that such a tough picture was scripted by the same guy who wrote the screenplays for the Wizard of Oz (1939) and Scrooge (1951), but that is the case. Langley's teaming with Cavalcanti and Heller proved to be a great one, ensuring that the film looked, sounded and played out as the grim tale it ultimately is. The violence, and in fact the staging of such, is of course tame when viewed nowadays, but the film has such a sense of time period it's easy to get transported into the movie and feel the unflinching nature of the beast. Besides, the violence against women and coppers used here will always carry with it a sense of nastiness. Film is also boosted by the performances of Howard (making no attempt to play Clem as likable), Jones (eloquent spiv nastiness supreme) and Gray (hot to trot). Howard was right in the middle of what would be a purple period in his career, with Brief Encounter just behind him and The Third Man on the horizon, Howard was on form. That this film warrants being mentioned in the same breath as those two movies is testament to its, and his, worth.

Perhaps a little surprising given the itchy texture of the film, there's also some dark humour within. It's not for nothing that the bad guys work out of a funeral parlour, where constant reminders of death are evident via the coffins and sarcastic advertisements on the walls. This base also acts as the back drop to the big face off during the finale, tensely played out on the roof where a huge sign grimly reads R.I.P. Where the film gets its Brit film noir tag from is due to the look provided by Heller's photography and the scenes constructed by Cavalcanti in dimly lit rooms and ramshackle alleyways. While the ending, thankfully, doesn't cop out and ensures that no film noir fan will be disappointed. All in it's a classic piece of British crime film making, taking chances by not shying away from playing the drama straight and true, while revelling in a mood of bitterness. 9/10

A good deal of British film noir style suspense is generated in I BECAME A CRIMINAL (U.S.A. title: THEY MADE ME A FUGITIVE) starring TREVOR HOWARD as an ex-RAF pilot who becomes a bored civilian and falls in with a racketeering gang shortly after the end of WWII.

GRIFFITH JONES is the sinister, rough and tough leader of the gang who decides to set Howard up for the murder of a policeman during an escape from the cops. Howard spends some time in prison before breaking out and going all out for revenge by returning to London for a confrontation with Jones' gang.

While the story itself is nothing original, it's done with such style and flair for this kind of grim material, the B&W photography giving realistic glimpses of post-war London on the gritty side.

SALLY GRAY is very effective as the woman who helps Howard and believes in his innocence. The supporting players register strongly as individual characters.

The final shoot-out is a bit too frenzied for my taste, extending for quite awhile before the villains are disposed of. Despite this, the ending remains downbeat with just a glimmer of hope that some day Gray will be able to prove her man has been railroaded and is innocent of the murder charge for killing a policeman.

Well worth viewing if you like suspenseful, brisk stories of this genre with dialog that is strong and forceful. While this bears no relation to the John Garfield film, THEY MADE ME A CRIMINAL, its plot outline does bear a strong resemblance to the Burt Lancaster thriller, KISS THE BLOOD OFF MY HANDS with Joan Fontaine helping Lancaster elude the pursuing authorities while on the run.

I borrowed the Kino Video release of this from my public library today. I'd never heard of it before and, having just watched it, I can say I'm really amazed this is not a famous movie in the United States. I'm not sure if it's very well-known in England or not. Like another landmark British movie, BLOW-UP, THEY MADE ME A FUGITIVE is directed by a foreigner. There is more attention to sound and camera-work than I've noticed in most British movies from the end of the war until about 1956 or so. Warner Brothers gets a huge credit at the start, and I'm wondering if that studio merely distributed it in the United States or if British audiences also saw "Warner Brothers" in huge letters on the screen. It has a lot in common with the Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall movies of the forties, and the screenwriter, Noel Langley, had worked in Hollywood on several movies, notably THE WIZARD OF OZ. So, it's British, but it has American and continental style. I mention Bogart. I should also mention Richard Widmark. Clem and Narcy easily could have been played by those two actors with no change in approach. There's a rooftop scene later echoed in TO CATCH A THIEF and the words "It's Later Than You Think" keep appearing, and I've seen at least two later movies which make use of that. It's scarier than the American gangster movies of the late forties.

Also, the title begs comparison to the 1939 Warner Brothers picture THEY MADE ME A CRIMINAL and an early-thirties one called I AM A FUGITIVE FROM A CHAIN GANG. A typical American gangster movie from the thirties had a World War One vet who sells bootleg liquor during the Great Depression and THEY MADE ME A FUGITIVE makes the protagonist a World War Two vet dealing in rationed items such as cigarettes and liquor. There seems to have been a conscious effort, in the making of this movie, to capture the audience American gangster movies had had in Britain. Perhaps there was an effort to get an American audience, too. See it for good acting, wonderful production and, most importantly, unexpected realism. If it's clichéd, it's put together so well as to seem fresh almost sixty years after it was made. And seeing Peter Bull cheered me up.

For something so relentlessly bleak and pessimistic, it's curiously engaging. Its sense of despair and hopelessness makes you glad you weren't around in England in 1947.

Adjusting to civilian life after years of being told what to do, without having to make any personal decisions was a massive social problem all over the world. Here in Europe where our the infrastructure had been destroyed and the structure of society itself was having to be reimagined, this was especially difficult.

Trevor Howard expresses this inability to belong with great subtle sensitivity. You'll hardly recognise his hollow husk of a man if you're more familiar with his refined, restrained and romantic persona from BRIEF ENCOUNTER. Without expressing hardly any emotion he still manages to win you over. Perhaps it's because we can see how easy it would be for us to find ourselves in his situation. In a place where there hope was not even something which could even be imagined.

The story and the script are very engaging and surprisingly violent. The action and the intrigue are constant. Griffith Jones is gloriously unpleasant - a thoroughly nasty piece of work. As much as you root for Trevor Howard, you'll grow to loathe Jones' Narcy. Sally Gray is also marvellous. Like a ghost from centuries ago trapped on earth, she seems like she's from a different world, a better, brighter, nicer world. She only half exists in this grimy, cruel and dirty shadow of what London was. Her character, incongruous in this underworld, grounds this film into a familiar reality. She wasn't just exceptionally beautiful, she was an extremely talented actress.

Not sure whether this film could be called enjoyable but it's certainly entertaining.

They Made Me a Fugitive (1947)

This is a vigorous British crime noir film, a counterpart to the great Warner Bros American movies from the same period (and earlier) and to American post-war film noir. (In fact, this was released by Warner Bros.) The plot is fast and twisty and the photography is bold and dramatic with a lot of night scenes. Great stuff. If you like this sort of thing normally you'll love this.

The star is one of the Howard Brothers, Trevor, playing a would-be criminal and eventually the fugitive of the title. He's mixed up with some tough criminal types (British style) and some female leads that have echoes of film noir femme fatales. There is violence, angular camera-work, even a few special effects, and a couple of sympathetic leads who eventually take the plot somewhere new.

Howard's biggest role, in the best movie of his career, came two years earlier in "Brief Encounter," and he's again complex and nuanced and someone to identify with. But he's not especially sympathetic, playing a hardened, selfish type who just happens to have a conscience unlike his cohorts. The movie follows him through several phases of his brush with crime, and with an attempt to clear his name. There is a rather long and dramatic and somewhat unconvincing fight scene near the end (the throw of the milk bottle takes first prize in this one), but the very last scene is brutally pessimistic in a way American noirs are oddly not.

If you like film noir this is a must see. If you appreciate a good movie for its action and drama, likewise. There may be no deep character development are larger social arc here, but that's true of a lot of American noirs, too. So just jump and and soak it all up.

After WWII, "Clem Morgan" (Trevor Howard) returns to little opportunity in wartorn Britain, so he hooks up with some hoodlums. When one of their robberies goes wrong, his new "friends" frame him for the killing of a policeman and to prison he goes. He escapes, and bent on revenge the film follows his efforts to get back home and to settle the scores. Howard was never the most natural of actors, I always found him just a little too sterile, but he acquits himself well enough here with a couple of decent performances from Griffith Jones as his nemesis "Narcy" (as in Narcissist) and Sally Gray as the conflicted ("Sally") as well as a solid supporting cast with the aptly named heavy Peter Bull, a drunken Maurice Denham with his resentful wife Vida Hope and Ballard Berkeley. This story is tensely directed with plenty of mini-escapades en route to keep it interesting. The fight scenes are a little bit over-staged and the ending is really quite a stretch to the imagination - Howard's skill at weaponising milk bottles borders on the comical, but the rest of it is well paced and a good watch.

Violent British crime drama from Warner Brothers and director Alberto Cavalcanti. Trevor Howard stars as Clem, an ex-RAF pilot who can't find work so he joins up with a criminal gang run by Narcy (Griffith Jones). When Narcy takes a disliking to Clem, he has him set-up on a manslaughter charge and sent to prison. Clem later escapes and goes seeking revenge, with a lot of obstacles along the way.

This is one hard-edged, grimy crime picture for its day. The violence is shocking, and one brutal beating of a woman is particularly unpleasant. Griffith Jones makes for a really hissable villain, while Howard excels as the weary but resolute Clem. Top billed Sally Gray gets the big "acting" moments as Narcy's girl who takes a shine to Clem. For those who like the darker side of life (and cinema), this is worthwhile. More sensitive viewers may be repelled.

Ex serviceman Trevor Howard (Clem) is bored now that the war is over and agrees to join a criminal gang headed up by spiv boss Griffith Jones (Narcy) who peddles whatever contraband comes in – cigarettes, meat and even sherbet. I love sherbet. It seems a funny thing to ban, though. Anyway, Howard is enraged by the fact that this sherbet is being peddled unlawfully. He obviously feels for the sweetshop traders. His stand on sherbet causes a rift with Jones. Jones has plans for Howard. Not good ones.

There are a few good things going for this film including the ending which wouldn't be allowed in Hollywood in which the dialogue as delivered by Jones is completely unexpected and standout. There is also a memorable sequence with housewife Vida Hope (Mrs Fenshaw) who wants a favour of Howard in return for sheltering him whilst he is on the run. Vida is really freaky!

The cast are a mish-mash. I didn't think any of the women convinced and I couldn't relate to any of the male cast. Trevor is OK in the lead. And what is it with the names of the gang? I thought one guy was called 'Sophie' for most of the film. And the lead gangster is just one letter away from being called 'Nancy'. But I think that falls in line with British gangsters of the time – note 'Pinkie' from "Brighton Rock" made in the same year. Of course, the famous 'nancy-boy' Kray twins popped up later in 1960s London.

The film is OK but watch out for the fake fights. The rubber milk bottles that are hurled about and bounce off people's heads contrast sharply with the sequence when Sally Gray (Sally) gets beaten up. The violence towards women in this film is disturbing and once again, the dialogue as delivered by Jones is menacing during these sequences. Overall, it's not quite up there with the best.

A year after his hit,"Brief Encounter," Trevor Howard turned to a British gangster film of the film noir genre.

Falling in with a band of crooks, Howard wants out when he sees what they're really up to. The leader of the gang, Griffith Jones, has him framed for running over a police officer and the Howard character is sentenced to 15 years for manslaughter.

The rest of the film deals with Howard breaking out of prison, after he is told that his girlfriend is now going with Griffith. Of course, Griffith's ex tells him all this.

Griffith Jones's death scene is quite similar to that of Stephen Boyd in "Ben-Hur." The only difference is that the ending is not exactly what you want.

Nevertheless, this is a taut thriller, one of the best of the film-noir genre.

Sally Gray is Griffith's ex who comes to love Howard.