Robert J. Maxwell There's not really much worth going into. Marshall Thompson breaks out of a hospital for the criminally insane, travels to "Terminal City" and after shooting the bus driver, barges into a saloon and holds the half dozen patrons hostage. He demands that the psychiatrist, Sam Levene, be brought to him. Levene and the cops surrounding this dismal joint believe that Marshall just wants to talk to his former shrink, but he doesn't. He's come to kill him.So we wait, while Marshall kills the sour bartender who tries to dial 1119 and get the police, while the cops try to sneak a sharpshooter in through an air duct, and while some of the customers go through the varied tribulations familiar to fans of the airplane-in-danger movies. One wants to call his wife, who is having a baby. A reporter wants to call his editor and get a scoop on every other paper.The bartender is William Conrad, whose appearance is all too short. Sam Levene is always a treat but he's been given a role here -- the police shrink who got Thompson out of the electric chair three years ago by spouting a lot of psychobabble -- that no actor on earth could pull off without sacrificing his dignity.In the lead role, Marshall Thompson plays the madman as if he'd never met one. He's grim, never smiles, and speaks in the soothing tones you might use when speaking to a child, probably a deliver copied from some 1930s B movie he saw as a child himself.There is no sense of place. "Terminal City" doesn't exist. The streets are named "Second Street" and "Spring Street." The corner drug store is "Rialto Drugs." That's the corner at which the police and the news organizations pile up. ("What news from the Rialto?") Television was still a novelty because the gin mill has a great big one and it's lovingly described. Someone asks, "Does anybody know how to work this thing? Well turn it on." And we get to see the display panels inside the truck broadcasting live news. "Okay, cut to camera one and pan with the doctor." The direction is plodding. It lacks poetry and color. It's dull. How did Gerald Mayer ever come to direct this piece of rubbish? It probably helped that he was Louis B. Mayer's nephew.Pedestrian in every respect. It's sole virtue is that it's short.

krorie This seldom seen, nearly forgotten gem stands out as a precursor to many movie motifs now taken for granted. A deranged young man, Gunther Wyckoff (whacko with a gun, played menacingly by Marshall Thompson in perhaps his best performance), shoots a city bus driver with the driver's own pistol, then holds up in a local bar using the patrons as hostages. In those long ago days when such occurrences were rare, there were no professional police negotiators. Ironically, Wyckoff does his own negotiating with the law, demanding to see the psychiatrist that is in charge of treating him.What a crew of hostages: A barfly willing to bed anyone who buys her a drink, an old married fool making arrangements for a weekend tryst with a sweet young thing, a young man whose wife is in delivery at the hospital, a zealous reporter whose newspaper editor thinks he's a joke, and Chuckles, the bartender, played by the dour William Conrad of radio's "Gunsmoke" and later TV's "Cannon" fame. Maybe he got his moniker for being the opposite of chuckles, such as calling a big guy, Tiny. The interaction of this motley crew with each other and with the criminally insane killer makes up the biggest part of the flick. An alternate title was "The Violent Hour," which basically describes the plot of the film, approximately an hour's standoff between the psycho and the police who work to free the hostages unharmed. A young André Previn provides the appropriate atmospheric music.What a splendid cast. Even workhorse Charles Lane, who is today 101 and says he is still available to do a show, is seen briefly on the tube in a man-on-the-street interview. And don't blink and miss June Cleaver (Barbara Billingsley) in a walk on part. Items you don't see around anymore: A cigarette machine, a weight scale on the sidewalk, a pay telephone that costs a nickle to dial 1119 (no push buttons). Items that were curiosities at the time but are now part of everyday life: A flat-panel big screen TV, TV news hype, and, alas, crazies that for no reason shoot patrons who are total strangers.The chosen title, "Dial 1119," which today reminds the viewer of "Call 911," is a fitting one. Labeling the location Terminal City, however, is a bit much.

Steve Tarter What I liked about "Dial 1119" is that it's basically ignored as an example of film noir yet, for a film made in 1950, this thing was ahead of its time. First off, there's a big-screen TV in the bar, which plays an important part in advancing the plot. The folks who made this picture also foresaw the role that TV news would come to play in taking over a story. Good cast with William ("Cannon") Conrad as Chuckles the bartender, Leon ("Mr. Ed") Ames and Marshall ("Daktari") Thompson as the central character, our friendly neighborhood psycho. Finally, you've got a love a film noir selection that takes place in Terminal City.

telegonus This is a most effective little thriller from 1950 concerning a disturbed killer who holds a group of people hostage in a bar. It's the sort of story that had been done many times before in films, and which would soon be a staple on television. There are few surprises in this one, as everyone goes through the motions as one expects they would in a movie like this. As the psychopath, Marshall Thompson isn't really up to the job. He's not awful, but he doesn't generate much tension personally. Robert Walker would have been much better. The actors playing the various hostages are capable, however, and there's a nice sense of what city life was probably like at around this time. Slick and artificial as it is, the film has its charms. It's never boring, and director Gerald Mayer maintains a nice pace.