The Embezzler

A bank clerk (Charles Victor) puts up with a nagging harpy of a wife day after day to the point where he just wants to leave. Not to mean he's thinking of being unfaithful to her, mind you, he just wants to leave. Putting the money into the vault at the end of each day and passing by the local travel agency on his way home gets him in the mood for Rio. Will he take the money and run one of these days? Or will his recently diagnosed heart condition hold him back?

This one, while being generally lighthearted, is definitely bittersweet, especially once he starts meeting certain new people, several of whom affect his life in a large way. I did have thoughts of Ikiru at times because of certain parts of the storyline, but it's nowhere near that heavy. I liked the way the characters' stories intertwined and how important they all were to the whole. Well written and performed.

I enjoyed this one a lot, from the lighthearted beginning to the surprising and bold end, which made me give this a half star higher rating than I might've otherwise. Recommended!

Gifted Hammer Films director John Gilling, when not putting the wind up British cinema audiences with his grisly Gothic shockers filled with reptilian fiends, and singularly ghoulish zombies, also made a number of serviceable, low budget crime thrillers in the 1950s, his considerable versatility put to nimble use in the noirish potboiler 'The Embezzler'. This is, arguably, one of the more compelling examples of John Gilling's woefully neglected cops n' robbers oeuvre. In this specific instance, the existential misfortunes concern a weary, hen-pecked bank clerk Henry Paulson (Charles Victor) who is given a rather grim prognosis by his G. P which galvanizes this broken, grey little man into an extraordinarily cavalier act of larceny, the dramatic aftershocks thereafter making John Gilling's engaging, well-acted B-Thriller a breezy enough time-waster. It's aesthetically pleasing feature, featuring melancholic views of a decidedly more austere, glum-looking Eastbourne than one might have expected! While not exactly essential viewing,'The Embezzler' has a cogent text, a genuinely sympathetic protagonist in the light-fingered middle-aged misfit Paulson, and some terrifically tense interludes, plus the frequently heated exchanges between the no less shady, altogether eccentric hotel patrons provide some additional fizz!

Long time bank teller (Charles Victor) learns he has only 2 years to live due to an illness. He decides he wants to enjoy his remaining time so embezzles a swag of money from his employer and plans to travel to Europe. But the cops are on his trail so he heads for a British seaside guesthouse where he blends into the social scene. But a fellow villain spots him and the blackmail begins.

Standard 1950's British drama and not bad entertainment for a rainy Sunday afternoon. You could do worse.

Mild-mannered bank cashier Charles Victor learns he has an enlarged heart and might last another couple of years. Between his nagging wife and the proposed stress of a promotion, he daydreams about a cruise. So he turns down the promotion and stuffs the bank's money in a suitcase. The manager catches him, leaving Victor just enough time to scarper to Eastbourne -- with a minute or two of location shooting -- where he holes up in a quiet private hotel. Things get noisy when ex-con Cyril Chamberlain shows up, blackmails ex-girlfriend Zena Marshall, courts well-to-do spinster Peggy Mount and recognizes Victor from the newspapers.

'Solid' is a good word to describe this obviously cheap second feature. The copy I saw had three minutes trimmed from its length, but it doesn't seem to miss them. The effect is that of a decent TV production from a semi-anthology show of the 1960s, like THE FUGITIVE, where David Jansen might get caught up in some one else's story for a week. Few of the actors are attractive, save the juvenile couple of Michael Craig and Miss Marshall; none of the characters are terribly interesting either, save Chamberlain as Miss Marshall's ex-boyfriend, looking to shake every farthing out of anyone who has any, and Phyllis Morris, whose nagging and browbeating seem like most of the reason for husband Victor to get out.

In some ways, that's an odd message to send: the only way to be interesting is to be a nasty piece of work. Yet the dull people are the ones who are happy, in their mild-mannered way. That seems to be the normative subtext of this movie. It's certainly not that money will make you happy.

Enjoyable little film to past an hour and a bit and I do like 1950s films when you can be blackmailed over something that now would be an amusing dinner conversation.