LeonLouisRicci The late 50's was a strange time for Movies. There were rumblings of an "expansion of consciousness" if you will, that resulted in attempts, like this one, to explore lurid, unmentionable gruesome violence (against Women), and sexual themes that were previously only barely hinted.If you were paying attention, it was obvious that the Arts were becoming a more liberal expression of primal urges (Rock n' Roll) that were always there but rarely talked about in polite company. So here we have this lackluster Serial Killer Movie that was just aching to escape from Studio and Audience conventions, but alas, it was not to be.The "grisly" Murders are very Ho-Hum, one if you can imagine, is just a guy being pushed into a swimming pool. The rest take place off screen. There is a lot of Psycho-Babble, the most scathing coming from a paralyzed hater of all Women. Some of this is slightly entertaining in a trashy kind of way, but not quite enough to save this stiff and incompetently Directed Movie.People talk and talk and say very little. The Sheriff's investigation is basically talk and talk, occasionally on the telephone, and everyone seems to have sunstroke rendering them immobility and inability to emote. This is a strange one at best, but at its worst is slowly paced, mostly uninteresting, and lacking any flare.

whpratt1 Thought this 1957 film starring some very great actors would be entertaining or at least a good murder mystery. The film takes place in a Utah Mountain Lodge where there are a large group of tourists and also behind the scenes very sick people running this lodge. The manager is a man who is handicapped and taken care of by his sister who waits on him hand an foot and this man seems to hate all kinds of women and is also a mental case. One night, a girl is murdered and slashed to death with a knife multiple times and it looks like they have a serial killer on their hands. Lex Baxter, Anne Bancroft and Mamie Van Doren all add a great deal to this story with their great supporting actors roles. There are other murders and the film goes completely around in circles until you have already figured out who the killer is and you can't wait for the film to end.

blanche-2 "The Girl in the Black Stockings" is a B movie, and I don't give it the tremendous historical significance one of the other reviewers did. It's obviously made cheaply, and the story is awkward. Directed by Howard Koch, it has a surprising lack of pace. The stars are Lex Barker, Anne Bancroft, John Dehner, Ron Randell, Marie Windsor and Mamie Van Doren. The plot concerns murders at a resort - in fact, the film begins with the discovery of a dead body, and several more follow. Dehner plays the sheriff. The resort is owned by a man with hysterical paralysis (Randell) and his sister (Windsor), who takes care of him. There's a Barrymore-type actor preparing for a comeback with the help of a va-va-va-voom blonde (Van Doren), and several guests, including Barker and Bancroft, who apparently have some sort of history together.The acting is okay with the exception of a very young Bancroft, who smartly underplays what could have been an extremely over the top character. Barker was very handsome and fit, but after reading that Lana Turner threw him out when she learned he was abusing her daughter Cheryl, it's hard to watch him. Most of the characters really aren't fleshed out enough to give the actors something to work with. Stuart Whitman has a small part, as does Dan Blocker, who plays a bartender.Not great.

telegonus This late fifties whodunit has some interesting credits. It was directed by the able and eclectic Howard Koch, and features three quite different actresses in major roles,--Mamie Van Doren, Anne Bancroft and Marie Windsor. Suave character man John Dehner is cast as the local lawman; ex-Tarzan Lex Barker is the male lead; Stuart Whitman and Dan Blocker have small roles; and Barker wrote the music score. This is the only movie I have ever seen that features a murder suspect who is a bitter, woman-hating man, psychosomatically paralyzed from the neck down, who can't even pour his own drinks or light his own cigarettes. Ron Randell plays him marvelously, and had the film been directed by Ingmar Bergman would surely have won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar. I wouldn't quite call this movie trashy, but it has a trashy feel to it, as it comes across in some ways as a sort of Southwest version of Peyton Place crossed maybe with Anatomy Of a Murder, the small-town black and white mood of which it strangely anticipates. Everyone in this movie has a secret. The question is, whose secret is murder? The pacing isn't strong here, and the dialog is variable. William Margulies' photography is excellent, however; and the settings,--the motel resort and small desert town--are perfectly realized. There is a nice feeling for people whose lives have fallen just short of the big time, and who are angry about it. As a result, more than in most movies, everyone seems more than capable of being a killer. I especially like the sense of isolation in the film, and with it the edge of danger. As with so many crime pictures of its era, it seems to be trying to say something about American life, and how materialism and ambition are destroying it. With its acerbic invalid in one corner, and its muslceman in the other, and all the beautiful women gallivanting about and making life miserable for everyone, this one, with sharper writing and a sense of the absurd, might really have risen and become an Antonioni-like commentary on the American Dream. As it stands, it doesn't come close, though some of its characters and images linger in the mind long after its over.