SOuthside 1-1000

This is a Rivers Brother's production and Boris Ingster's second film noir. Famous for stretching a penny, this film created an interesting role for Andrea King, who plays badass gang boss Nora Craig.

The overall story begins with a narrator discussing the entry into the Korean War and concluding with the importance and the power of currency. Then we join an elderly dying prisoner who manages to make counterfeit plates in prison and smuggle them out with an unsuspecting priest. For the rest of film we follow a secret service agent on behalf of the U. S. Treasury as he hunts down and attempts to infiltrate a counterfeiting gang.

One of the best scenes in the film is the final scene that involves a chase between our agent Don DeFore's John Riggs / Nick Starnes and lady boss Nora. There is fantastic lighting and views as Nora climbs a bridge over the train tracks, shooting back and winging Riggs...before the ultimate climax. One snaffu of note is the change in arms having been shot, from right to left.

I also really enjoyed the smuggling out of the plates, which was pretty elaborate.

While not my favorite noir, worth a watch for film noir aficionados and definitely for fans of Andrea King.

The US Secret Service is always on the lookout for fake money. They follow it all the way to San Quentin where dying prisoner engraver Eugene Deane had created plates for gangsters on the outside.

The first half has the continuous narration explaining the investigation. I don't buy that an inmate created the plates inside his cell. I get the noir-ish intention of bringing in the penal system. It wants the dramatic heat, but I found it rather outlandish. Maybe it's ripped from a true story, but I highly doubt it. With that bad starting point, I'm watching the rest side-eyed. I never full got into it.

It's a noir pseudo-documentary counterfeiting crime drama set in 1950 in Washington, D. C. and Los Angeles, California. Secret Service agent John Riggs (Don Defore) tries to track a counterfeiting ring using high-quality plates engraved by Eugene Deane (Morris Ankrum), who is serving a prison term. One lead, Bill Evans (Barry Kelley), dies before Riggs can track Evans' boss. So he goes undercover as a principal in a large Boston bank robbery. He meets gang enforcer, Reggie (George Tobias), and an intriguing hotel manager, Nora Craig (Andrea King). A final climactic confrontation resolves the issue in favor of the Feds.

"Southside 1-1000" (one of the phone numbers called in the film) is a workmanlike story that's never convincing. Don DeFore doesn't do convincing noir. The film is hindered by a bizarre patriotic Korean War plug that morphs into a Feds-can-do-no-wrong introduction. George Tobias is a good thug, and Andrea King is OK as the femme fatale, but she has no chemistry with DeFore. Reviewer Dennis Schwartz said the film reminds him of the old "Dragnet" TV series, and the narration does have that feel.

Pacy T-Man movie, one of only three directed by Boris Ingster, whose STRANGER ON THE THIRD FLOOR is held by many to be the film which kicked off the 'film noir' cycle. A narrative voiceover lends a pseudo-documentary air to the tale of a square-jawed treasury agent, John Riggs (Don DeFore), who is tasked with cracking a counterfeiting ring initiated by a dying master forger from inside his jail cell. Once on the trail, Riggs adopts a false identity in the hope of ingratiating himself with the crooks, and this brings him into contact with larcenously inclined hotel manageress Nora Craig (Andrea King). Although this is fairly standard stuff, with the rather annoying voiceover failing to ratchet up the tension as it did in Kubrick's THE KILLING, Russell Harlan's often moody location cinematography (see also GUN CRAZY & RIOT IN CELL BLOCK 11) and King's hardboiled femme, together with one or two nifty, if contrived, twists make this a worthwhile diversion for fans of noir obscura.

Southside 1-1000 has to work hard to wash out the sour taste left by its obligatory, patriotic opening: Stock battle footage runs under a voice-over linking the importance of a sound national currency to the Korean conflict (then playing at a theater of war near you) and the diabolical, all-encompassing threat of Communist domination. Whew! (It was the early cold-war era, and viewers were all but required to swear a loyalty oath before they could enjoy even a B-programmer.) Unluckily, it doesn't work hard enough.

Locked up in a federal pen, a top-notch forger pores over his Bible until lights out, when he whisks out his engraving tools and etches the plates for `queer.' Smuggled out, they go on the presses turning out counterfeit bills to be uttered at race tracks and Vegas poker parlors. G-Man Don DeFore (an avuncular figure familiar from television - Ozzie and Harriet, Hazel) goes undercover to track down and infiltrate the source of the funny money. Middleman Barry Kelley goes down (literally, through a window) but the brains of the operation stay at large. Then, as a big-spending good-time Charley, DeFore catches the eye of Andrea King, daughter of the old jailbird. But his cover is blown at his moment of greatest peril....

The director, Boris Ingster, occupies a curious niche in Hollywood lore. In 1940, with Stranger on the Third Floor, he gave the public an elliptical, dreamlike suspense movie that came to be regarded by many fans as the very first film noir. That's a tough call to make, and at any rate Ingster can hardly be counted among the noir maestros (in fact, he directed but three movies). He returned to the cycle as it was peaking and had even begun to cannibalize earlier successes.

Despite two or three sequences that rise a notch or two above the pedestrian, Southside 1-1000, can only be graded ho-hum. The best thing in it has to be Andrea King, but she's allowed to bare her fangs fully only too briefly at the end. And while its numerical title remains so evocative of the noir series as a whole (Call Northside 777, Dial 1119, 99 River Street, 711 Ocean Drive), Southside 1-1000 simply warms over material than had been often traversed over the few years previous, most remarkably by Anthony Mann in T-Men.