Account Rendered

Imagine you have gone to the pictures in the fifties, possibly with mum and dad. You start by seeing this little jewel of a film, then the forthcoming attractions, Pearl and Dean adverts and then Pathé News!!! Before the main feature, sit back and enjoy a choc-ice. The main film could have been....... (use your imagination). Brings it all back, doesn't it?

If only all 1 hour TV police stories made today were as well written as well acted and as well directed.

Lucille Ainsworth is married to Robert Ainsworth (Griffith Jones). She has commissioned her portrait to be painted by an artist, Clive (John van Eyssen) as a gift to her husband. Clive is also her lover.

When Lucille sees the portrait, she hates it. She goes to Hampstead Heath, where she is later found murdered.

Afraid he is going to be accused, her husband fakes an alibi with his business partner, Gilbert Morgan (Carl Bernard).

Meanwhile, Lucille's best friend (Honor Blackman) is in love with Robert. It falls to two police detectives to discover the murderer, which they do with careful police work. They trace a coat back to its original owner, and figure out how one person could be at the murder site, despite having an alibi -- too far away to reach the murder scene at the right time.

This is a brilliant thriller on a small scale, the restricted format of less than 80 minutes comprising a considerable mess of intrigues, as this wife already from the beginning shamelessly confesses to her infidelity, while her husband receives an alarming note which we are never initiated in, there is a reckless artist involved also who gets mixed up in some fights, and there is extortion and embezzlement, all in a wonderful complex of a mystery where everyone could be guilty wile they all are proved innocent by alibis. Honor Blackman is the leading actress here, not far from a Lizabeth Scott character, while the fast action makes it difficult for all the men involved to catch on, but it all makes sense in the end with great satisfaction to the audience after a Hitchcockian train finale.

This strangely short murder-mystery is a good reminder of why the English film industry was so strong during this period.

The cast of relative unknowns (with the exception of a young Honor Blackman) deliver a tight story in a precise way. The sub texts of the story are not laboured, creating an involving story.

It's worth the time.

Ursula Howells, wife of merchant banker Griffith Jones, exchanges catty remarks with Honor Blackman at a party, goes to her lover, painter John van Eyssen, to see the painting of herself she is giving to her husband on his birthday, leaves abruptly to go to Hampstead Heath. When there, she screams at the camera and soon the police are investigating her murder. There are half a dozen fine candidates in this mystery.

This 58-minute B movie is directed at such a breakneck speed by Peter Graham Scott that there is no wasted time. There's also nothing in terms of grace notes, rendering the skilled players almost superfluous. True, Harry Ross, who turns up late, gets some humor out of his three-minute turn, but that's about the limit of it.

On the other hand, the movie does play fair enough with the rules of writing a mystery; I thought I had spotted the murderer early based on structure, but turned out to be wrong. As a result, if you enjoy a mystery without much in the way of frills, this is for you. Me, I want more.