Here's a hoary old fantasy-noir I guess you might call it, featuring Edward G Robinson as the unusually-named Mr Triton who we see initially as a fortune-telling fairground attraction who gradually acquires true second-sight to the immediate advantage of his erstwhile business-pal, who promptly becomes mega-rich when he strikes oil on Ed's say-so.
However, our man is troubled by his seeming gift, especially as he starts to get bad vibes when someone's future isn't so bright and promptly hides himself away for twenty years alone in San Francisco. Of course one of the golden rules about any noir film is that you can't escape your past and sure enough when his path crosses with Gail Russell the grown-up daughter of his now millionaire ex-partner, you just know there's doom and gloom ahead for them both and there certainly is at least for the father.
As for the daughter, she finds herself at the centre of Robinson's most detailed forecast yet, right down to the date and time of her impending demise which sees her surrounded for protection at her palatial home by the most lunk-headed set of cops since the Keystone Constabulary as well as her sceptical boyfriend played by John Lund. So, the big questions are:- can the redoubtable Edward G a) save Russell, b) save himself and c) save the movie?
For parts a) and b), you'll just have to watch and see but reliably good as Mr R is, even he can't really rescue this load of old hogwash. It doesn't help that he's surrounded by some terrible acting, particularly by the guys playing the police officers or ill-served by a ridiculous script which seems to require exposition by someone or other every ten minutes or so and dialogue which is clunkier than a bag of ball-bearings.
Like Mr Triton, I wish I'd had the power to see this movie before I did so that I wouldn't have had to watch it at all, if you follow me.
However, our man is troubled by his seeming gift, especially as he starts to get bad vibes when someone's future isn't so bright and promptly hides himself away for twenty years alone in San Francisco. Of course one of the golden rules about any noir film is that you can't escape your past and sure enough when his path crosses with Gail Russell the grown-up daughter of his now millionaire ex-partner, you just know there's doom and gloom ahead for them both and there certainly is at least for the father.
As for the daughter, she finds herself at the centre of Robinson's most detailed forecast yet, right down to the date and time of her impending demise which sees her surrounded for protection at her palatial home by the most lunk-headed set of cops since the Keystone Constabulary as well as her sceptical boyfriend played by John Lund. So, the big questions are:- can the redoubtable Edward G a) save Russell, b) save himself and c) save the movie?
For parts a) and b), you'll just have to watch and see but reliably good as Mr R is, even he can't really rescue this load of old hogwash. It doesn't help that he's surrounded by some terrible acting, particularly by the guys playing the police officers or ill-served by a ridiculous script which seems to require exposition by someone or other every ten minutes or so and dialogue which is clunkier than a bag of ball-bearings.
Like Mr Triton, I wish I'd had the power to see this movie before I did so that I wouldn't have had to watch it at all, if you follow me.