The Long Wait

One professional reviewer calls this film "meandering, actionless." I'd call it complex and psychological, with well-developed characters and some memorable dialog. It is quintessential film noir with a torrid romance thrown in. You have to suspend your disbelief to buy it, but you'll gladly toss it away and revel in the intensity of it's emotions and unexpected plot twists. It's not just a battle of wits with dangerous adversaries, it's a hero's quest for truth and a search for lost love. You're kept guessing as to the finish right until the end -- more importantly, you care how it ends. I saw it at least a half dozen times back in the 1950s and 60s. I'd like to see it again and discover if it's as good as I remember it -- or whether I was just a hormone-charged teenager with a crush on Anthony Quinn. ;-)

I see by the credits that this gem of a noir was filmed by Franz Planer, who did many classics. I've seen most of the Mickey Spillane movies, and this one has the most distinctive photography. The director Victor Saville seems to have been a better producer than a director. he also had an affinity for Mickey Spillane; he produced nearly all the Mike Hammer movies in the 1950s.

The cast is outstanding; besides the great Anthony Quinn, there are several lovely girls, the best being Peggie Castle. Even the trampy woman at the beginning who gets a rude kiss-off from Quinn plays her small part to perfection.

The doctor who treats Quinn's hands at the beginning has a familiar face. I've seen him in many TV shows as well as movies.

It's impossible to make a bad movie when you have Charles Coburn and Gene Evans backing you up.

The Long Wait is directed by Victor Saville and adapted to screenplay by Alan Green and Lesser Samuels from the Mickey Spillane novel. It stars Anthony Quinn, Charles Coburn, Gene Evans, Peggie Castle, Mary Ellen Kay and Shirley Patterson. Music is by Mario Castelnuovo- Tedesco and cinematography by Franz Planer.

Johnny McBride (Quinn) is a amnesiac who manages to get back to his home town of Lyncastle where he hopes to unravel who he is. But pretty soon he finds himself in a quagmire of trouble and strife...

Every once in a while I come across an instance like this, where a film noir picture's reviews back upon its release were savage, and yet today the more modern noir lover is mostly positive about the pic. In fact IMDb's rating sits currently at 7.2, which as the site's users will attest to, is pretty good going. So where we at with this Spillane revamp?

The complaints back in the day about it being dull and boring smack to me of writers back then not exactly understanding the noir ethos, though it's noted that there is the odd modern reviewer sharing the same complaint. It's a film very much erring on the side of bleak and moody, dabbling in the complexities of the human condition, and it's done very well, though the screenplay is hardly minus plot holes and is full of incredulous set-ups.

We also have to buy into Quinn being catnip to the dames, four of them no less! But Quinn does angry and broody very well, and he gets to do lots of both here. The aura of a town paddling in its own muck is evident, the amnesia angle merely an excuse to keep things on the side of murky, for it's imperative that we feel Johnny McBride's confusion and mistrust, and we do. All of which is framed superbly by Planer's (Criss Cross) photography, which never misses a chance for shadows and low lights.

With salty villains and sultry dames, violence and choice dialogue, and a few superb scenes (one sequence in an empty warehouse is stunning), this is very much a noir for noir lovers to sample. But with that in mind, these warnings should be noted, that as is often the way in noirville, the ending is divisive and the overt misogyny could well offend. 6.5/10

Once the dreadful title song is over this proves a surprising but welcome departure by Victor Saville into Mickey Spillane territory, which shares with 'Kiss Me Deadly' a formidable foursome of females (one of whom actually tells the hero "Oh mister! I haven't been kissed like that for a long, long time!" and a sense of humour that somewhat disqualifies it as a bona fide film noir.

Anthony Quinn (who inevitably turns out to be called "Johnny" and finds himself surrounded by guys in big suits shooting at him) gains in assurance as the film progresses back in the days before winning his first Oscar turned his head.

Girls, guns, fists, and fedoras abound in Mickey Spillane's hard-boiled yarn about an amnesiac (Anthony Quinn) who can't remember if he stole a quarter mil from his boss (a doddering Charles Coburn) or killed the town's D.A. ...not to mention the fact that his girl went and got plastic surgery, so he doesn't know who she is, either. Could it be Venus (a smoking hot Peggie Castle) or one of the other babes who swarm around the craggy Quinn like moths to a flame when he's not dodging bullets? Far-fetched fun for fans of obscure fifties noir with as much sex & violence as the Code allowed -and some of it is quite surreal, especially a bound & gagged Castle crawling across the floor as if in an S&M fever dream.

Director Saville and leading lady Castle filmed Mickey Spillane's I, THE JURY the year before (in 3D, no less) but that "Mike Hammer" mystery was more of a sucker punch thanks to Biff Elliot's powder puff PI. It's too bad he and Tony hadn't traded films...