
- Early 1950s Hammer Noir - Richard Raymond
In the early 1950s, notable directors like Terence Fisher and Ken Hughes honed their talents on a series of small-scale, dark-hued dramas from the enterprising British film company Hammer. US releases, usually under a different title, were obtained thanks to a distribution deal with Lippert Pictures.
Affordable transatlantic names whose careers had gone off the boil — Paul Henreid, Lizabeth Scott, George Brent, Barbara Payton, Hillary Brooke — received solid support from Britmovie regulars such as Raymond Huntley, Eleanor Summerfield and a pre-Carry On Sidney James. Taking their lead from Hollywood, several of these brisk little low-budgeters could stand proudly alongside homegrown offerings like the Robert Mitchum noirs churned out by RKO.
An Early Role For Blonde Bombshell Diana Dors
In The Last Page aka Bad Blonde (1951) — Terence Fisher’s directorial debut for Hammer — mild-mannered bookseller George Brent is entangled in a blackmail scam by sultry young shop assistant Diana Dors. Soon to find fame as the UK’s answer to Jayne Mansfield, Dors became saddled with a “blonde bombshell” image which tended to obscure her considerable acting skills. Also worthy of note is some striking location shooting on the site of a war-ravaged church.
A Stolen Face (1952) sees obsessed plastic surgeon Paul Henreid attempt to recreate lost love Lizabeth Scott when he remodels the disfigured features of a coarse cockney prison inmate, also played by Scott. The enjoyably far-fetched scenario is reminiscent of earlier Bette Davis and Joan Crawford melodramas and somewhat prefigures Hitchcock’s 1958 classic Vertigo.
Belinda Lee and Plenty of Postwar London Atmosphere
In Blackout aka Murder By Proxy (1954), down-at-heel US import Dane Clark gets framed for murder after mysterious young beauty Belinda Lee pays him to wed her, then promptly vanishes once the ring is on her finger. Although perhaps unnecessarily convoluted, the plot does allow the viewer ample opportunity to soak up oodles of postwar London atmosphere. As a footnote, Belinda Lee was only in her mid-twenties when a 1961 car crash ended her life.
Alex Nicol, Hillary Brooke and James M Cain
The House Across The Lake aka Heat Wave (1953), adapted by director Ken Hughes from his own noir novel High Wray, is an effective English excursion into James M Cain territory, complete with hard-bitten voiceover.
Struggling writer Alex Nicol holes up in a Lake District chalet in order to complete his latest piece of pulp fiction, but soon falls under the seductive spell of statuesque neighbour Hillary Brooke. Before long they’re presented with an ideal opportunity to bump off Brooke’s wealthy, unloved hubby, the down-to-earth and sympathetic Sidney James. Our halfway decent author hesitates, only for Brooke to step in and do the dirty deed herself.
Hounded Columbo-style by a suspicious cop — Peter Cushing lookalike Alan Wheatley — the couple find their solidarity sorely tested. Brooke may be a touch matronly for her role, but she and Nicol share a definite chemistry, while James proves his mettle as a serious character player with a performance reminiscent of Edward G Robinson.
Four-Sided Triangle — Rural English Science Fiction
Terence Fisher’s Four-Sided Triangle (1953), links Hammer’s noir era with the full-blooded Frankenstein saga to come. A cautionary sci-fi parable set in a sleepy English village, it stars Barbara Payton — another actress who was to meet a tragic end — as a woman torn between two lovers. Since they happen to be budding scientists who have just developed a revolutionary new matter duplicator, the besotted boys seek to solve their dilemma by using this latest invention to furnish them with a Payton apiece. Alas, this only opens a different can of worms ...
Boasting a lushly evocative music score by Malcolm Arnold and an intense performance from co-star Stephen Murray, Triangle plays more like a precursor to all those twist-in-the-tail Twilight Zone and Outer Limits episodes than the Gothic chillers that would become Hammer’s trademark. Still, it illustrates the confident, craftsmanly approach Fisher would take when, a few years later, he was called upon to revive Mary Shelley’s famous creature.
Hammer Had Yet to Benefit From the Relaxation of Censorship
Some of the themes explored in these early Hammer noirs cried out for the more lenient censorship of subsequent decades — a freedom the company would go on to exploit to very profitable effect once the emphasis switched to horror and the likes of Cushing and Lee came aboard. But even given the strictures of 1950s British cinema, not to mention meagre budgets, these early, modest attempts to reach out beyond a domestic audience serve as entertaining little time capsules, many of which can be tracked down on DVD by the dedicated cineaste.
