This had all the look and feel of film noir as I viewed it but I wasn't certain if it would pass muster as the real deal. It has no femme fatale front and center as most movies of the genre do, but thinking about it, that may be because Eddie Miller (Arthur Franz) killed them all. Marie Windsor came the closest as his victim number one, but she wasn't around long enough to make an impact on the entire story. However the picture does have it's requisite share of pessimism, fatalism and menace, so on that score it delivers in true noir fashion.
I found the cinematographer's work to be quite compelling. The starkly oblique camera angles, be they city streets (amplified by the topography of San Francisco), steep stairways or elevated rooftops, all seem to draw one's attention to and magnify the tormented psyche of the central character. His written plea (see my summary line), dropped anonymously in a city mailbox, reads as a massive cry for help that remains unanswered, except in the verbal exhortation of the police psychiatrist (Richard Kiley) stating his case before a review board. Listening to that argument today however, I don't think it would meet with much approval, in as much as his call for jailing first time sex offenders seems to be given short shrift by liberal judges in the present day.
Actor Franz appeared to have the perfect demeanor for his twisted character, continuously bewildered by the futility of his actions yet powerless to stop his murderous rampage. The film's treatment of his second victim was cleverly handled; all the while we track the woman under Miller's watchful eye, but never see him getting ready to carry out the crime. Then all of a sudden a bullet shatters the woman's apartment window and she falls victim to his single rifle blast. The viewer knows it's coming, but the anticipation is both muted and tension filled, a rare emotion that the film maker expertly achieved.
Going in without knowing anything about the picture, one might be led to believe it's a story about an assassin, and in some respects, the analogy holds. Miller was an assassin of sorts, but his victims were chosen at random for the mere fact of being women. Helpless to overcome his terrifying predilection to murder, Miller is ultimately apprehended with a tear in his eye, not so much for his victims, but for his own remorse at being a monster.
I found the cinematographer's work to be quite compelling. The starkly oblique camera angles, be they city streets (amplified by the topography of San Francisco), steep stairways or elevated rooftops, all seem to draw one's attention to and magnify the tormented psyche of the central character. His written plea (see my summary line), dropped anonymously in a city mailbox, reads as a massive cry for help that remains unanswered, except in the verbal exhortation of the police psychiatrist (Richard Kiley) stating his case before a review board. Listening to that argument today however, I don't think it would meet with much approval, in as much as his call for jailing first time sex offenders seems to be given short shrift by liberal judges in the present day.
Actor Franz appeared to have the perfect demeanor for his twisted character, continuously bewildered by the futility of his actions yet powerless to stop his murderous rampage. The film's treatment of his second victim was cleverly handled; all the while we track the woman under Miller's watchful eye, but never see him getting ready to carry out the crime. Then all of a sudden a bullet shatters the woman's apartment window and she falls victim to his single rifle blast. The viewer knows it's coming, but the anticipation is both muted and tension filled, a rare emotion that the film maker expertly achieved.
Going in without knowing anything about the picture, one might be led to believe it's a story about an assassin, and in some respects, the analogy holds. Miller was an assassin of sorts, but his victims were chosen at random for the mere fact of being women. Helpless to overcome his terrifying predilection to murder, Miller is ultimately apprehended with a tear in his eye, not so much for his victims, but for his own remorse at being a monster.