Room 43

Among the sundry delights to be found in this British white slavery sexpose is the gonzo turn by Herbert Lom. As London's mac daddy supreme Nick Biaggi, Lom is a sight to behold, a horn-doggie dandy in homburg, lapel carnation and spats (au courant fashion be damned). He's low-key at first, oozing oily charm and generosity, the better to bamboozle naive French waif Odile Versois, who's been lured into a life of shame by Lom's field procurer/mamasan/mistress Brenda De Banzie. But behind closed doors it's a whole 'nother Herb. Channeling his inner Michael Gough, he's all over Odile like a cheap suit, manhandling her love handles and assaulting her face with wet, slobbering kisses. It's truly an unhinged spectacle; even Lom's toupee looks like it has an erection.

Also in the house: affable tough guy Eddie Constantine as the world's least likely Canadian, the always welcome Robert Brown (Tumak's dad in One Million Years B.C., 'M' in the Bond films of the '80s) as a two-fisted cabbie who rouses his fellow hacks to do battle with the 'ho-mongers, Diana Dors, poured into bum-busting skirts and Frederick's of Soho lingerie, as a hooker with a score to settle, and, as the groom at a wedding party, a remarkably young Michael Caine.

All this plus a wacky weed-induced dream scene that must be seen to be disbelieved.

Lowdown high times guaranteed.

Diana Dors was at her Marilyn Monroe like physical voluptuous peak in this 1958 film drama about prostitution in London.Playing a "tart with a heart" she is only on the game to earn enough money for plastic surgery to save her younger sister's face from a previous acid attack by her vicious pimp (played by Herbert Lom) when her sister had previously refused to go "on the game".A shining white knight appears on the scene, not on a horse but in the form of a London taxicab driver (and his loyal cab mates)- a Canadian war veteran played by Eddie Constantine.Herbert Lom deceitfully involves both the new naive blonde girl (played by French actress Odile Versois) into his group of girls for hire and the taxi cab owner into his debt.

In the light of sex & violence graphically shown in 2014 by the media, this film will seem rather tame but I'm sure it had an X certificate at British cinemas in 1958 for its adult themes.There is also a drug scene, another taboo subject at the time.For Dors fans, a companion to this film would be "Yield to the Night", aka "Blonde Sinner" the latter film loosely based on the celebrated case of Ruth Ellis the last woman to be hanged in 1955 in Britain.I voted "Passport to Shame" 6/10 as I felt "Blonde Sinner" had slightly the stronger story line and better production values.

I fully expected this to be as lurid as its title but watched it anyway, probably because I first found it under its much cooler name, Room 43. Glad I did; it's immediately engrossing. A sweet French waitress is framed into prostitution. The first step is to set her up as a "thief" at her place of work. Then the madam, who works for the pimp, swoops in to "save" her and whisk her off to England. Once there they tell her she needs to marry a brit to stay there, enter our hero cabbie. This is all in service of forcing her into the life. There are some wonderfully 50s bombshells to contrast against her innocence which is underscored by her finding and adopting a kitten, as well as and other beauties of the era.

An incredible piece of social history lit in gothic black & white by Hammer maestro Jack Asher anticipating how Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice-Davies started a couple of years later. Following an introduction from behind a desk by Fabian of the Yard sternly warning us that it deals frankly with a pressing social evil, Ken Jones' trashy jazz score kicks in and the fun starts as weary old procuress Brenda De Banzie and jaded pro Diana Dors draw innocent young Odile Versois into Herbert Lom's web of sin (including a marijuana-induced dream sequence worthy of silent DeMille) in order to pay for his Saville Row suits.

It's probably just coincidence that the finale resembles Ken Loach's 'Looking for Eric' fifty years later. And director Alvin Rakoff carelessly permits an egregious line misreading by Joan Sims, who combines into one sentence the second and third sentences of what was evidently meant to be delivered as "Are you kidding? With Mike there? He'd sooner fight than have his breakfast!"

But compared to the sort of thing camera operator 'Nick' Roeg was directing a quarter of a century later it all seems positively decorous.

This film is a wonderful summary of hypocritical late fifties cinema. Purporting to reveal the sordid life of the prostitute but revelling in the sleaze and violence. From the opening lecture from *Fabian * of the Yard, to a climactic roof fight, every cliche about girls on the game is flung at the viewer. Poor Diana Dors and Herbert Lom try, but are done in by the florid script and dull direction. Spot Michael Caine in a bit part at the wedding.