Hell's Island

We begin with a scene under the opening credits where a man (John Payne) is being held at gunpoint by a man in a wheelchair and his cronies. What's going on? Turns out the one being held up is a former D.A. assistant, now a bouncer, hired to retrieve a missing ruby on a Caribbean island, where he knows his ex-girlfriend (Mary Murphy) is. When he gets there and sees her in a market, she runs away. He finds out that there is intrigue aplenty and his ex is possibly in it up to her neck. Can he trust her?

This was a decent one, the third of three teamings of John Payne with director Phil Karlson. (first was Kansas City Confidential, second was 99 River Street) It uses a lot of familiar elements from other noirs and does so mostly successfully. I found the story kinda bogged down here and there, but is generally solid. Some good action and surprises.

The other two movies I mentioned are better, especially the mighty K.C.C., but this is still worth a look, especially if you enjoy Payne as a tough guy.

As an aside, Mary Murphy sure can walk away!



*the lovely actress, not the incredibly annoying screeching woman on those dance shows!

Looks like Paramount decided to make a version of The Maltese Falcon (1941), in Vista Vision, no less. Frankly, I would have preferred good old b&w for the noir material, but then who's going to leave their new-fangled 1955 TV for more b&w. The plot may be familiar— a ruthless spider woman tricks a fall guy for insurance money– but it's still slickly done. Then too, Payne grimaces appropriately as schemes unfold around him, while Murphy looks the part of a deadly bon-bon. Still, she lacks that inner spider dimension that Mary Astor revealed so tellingly in the original. And what about ex-wrestler Sandor Szabo as what else but a gruesome thug.

I had trouble following all the twists and turns of who did what to whom, but I guess it all got explained in the wrap. Too bad production didn't work in more raw evil since director Karlson can really make you feel it. No this is no Phenix City Story (1955) or Kansas City Confidential (1952), the culmination of Karlson's career, at least in my little book. But the results are still engaging, thanks to Payne, a sensually recumbent Murphy, and a fat guy not named Sydney Greenstreet.

This is a decent film noir production. It stars John Payne in the latter portion of his career--when he was no longer a pretty-boy or light-weight singer. He was good as an angry noir hero and I certainly thought that he was up to the task. However, the plot is another story. While it's not bad, it's VERY, VERY familiar--like the writer was simply regurgitating portions of other movies he'd recently seen. In MANY ways, it's a reworking of "The Maltese Falcon" that is set in Mexico--and even has a similar sort of dame and a fat guy doing a Sidney Greenstreet imitation! It is also like several other B-movies I've seen over the years. Nothing particularly original about this one. It's got a few weaknesses (the woman is so OBVIOUSLY evil yet our hero doesn't recognize this for the longest time--even though he's a well-educated guy!) and about all you'd expect from a film of this sort--double-crosses, murders and the like. A decent time-passer but no more.

Perhaps it aided in my final enjoyment of Hell's Island in that I had very low expectations going into it. Payne, Murphy, and Sullivan are all very good in their respective roles and delivered from start to finish. Not all, but several of the minor/supporting performances/characters also provided ongoing interest as well. While many reviewers described the story as familiar, for me it didn't come across that way. Perhaps it was a combination of the setting and direction, along with a few moments of solid dialogue, but I found Hell's Island quite enjoyable from beginning to end. Great, no, but enjoyable yes. Check it out and see for yourself.

After 99 River Street and Kansas City Confidential, world-weary bruiser John Payne teams up with director Phil Karlson for Hell's Island, this time in VistaVision (Payne apparently had the foresight to see that television would become a profitable market for color films). After being jilted, Payne drank himself out of a job in the L.A. district attorney's office and now serves as bouncer in a Vegas casino. A wheelchair-bound stranger (Francis L. Sullivan) engages him to locate a ruby that disappeared in a Caribbean plane crash; the bait is that it may be in the possession of the woman (Mary Murphy) who jilted him. Payne flies off to Santo Rosario and into a web of duplicity at whose center Murphy waits (she does the "femme" better than she does the "fatale," however). There's a splendid moment when she shuts up her doors and draws the curtains on the memory of her rich busband, now in a penal colony across the subtropical waters for supposedly causing the deadly crash. The movie's texture is spun from Payne's carrying a torch that fails to illuminate the amplitude of clues and warning signals all around him. Professionally done if not especially memorable, Hell's Island remains an enjoyable color noir -- the Payne/Karlson combo rarely disappoints.