Hell's Island

This is a surprisingly good movie for being a B feature with no stars and no special names of attraction to it. Above all, it's a well composed and intriguing story. It's a tropical noir in flamboyant colour and with Francis L. Sullivan as the most interesting character, here in a wheel-chair, leading the hunt for a missing invaluable ruby lost in an air crash on this unidentifiable Caribbean island full of mysteries.

The leading lady, a former mistress of John Payne's, is the spider in the web of the mysteries with a husband locked up for life and imprisoned on another island outside as responsible for the death of the one casualy of the air crash, who had the ruby. Well, let's not proceed any further here, since the story as such with all its intrigues and tunnels, twists and turns cannot be told better than by the film.

The very adequate music adds to the magic of the tropical island and the dame of mysteries and intrigue, and there will be some more casualties before the skies eventually will clear and show what really happened, Francis L. Sullivan making the most striking exit in his wheel-chair.

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.

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.

John Payne was engaged to Mary Murphy. She left him for a rich man, so Payne replaced her with a dive into the bottle. Eventually he came out of it as a bouncer in a Vegas gambling casino in a tux. Francis L. Sullivan offers him $5000 to go to a small Caribbean island, where Miss Murphy's husband has a very expensive gem belonging to Sullivan, and is in prison for murdering a man.

It's a color film noir of the beat-them-up variety, complete with Payne waking up in a cell with sharks around... providing a link from melodramas to James Bond. Payne had spent the 1930s and 1940s as a contract player, but as he aged, he moved into more violent roles, with some nice work that kept him in the leading man category, but not quite a major star. He was the first Hollywood figure to be sufficiently interested in James Bond to option one of the novels. His movie career ended in the 1960s and he spent the rest of his career doing high-profile guest shots on TV. He died at age 77 in 1989.