John Boulting’s golden oldie may overshadow the new adap of Graham Greene’s coastal crimer, but is it actually as good as they say? Well, sort of.
Richard Attenborough, it bears repeating, gives a career-best turn as small-time hood Pinkie.
Carol Marsh is also phenomenal as the girl whose silence he buys via marriage, offering a portrayal of innocence as magnetic as the easier theatrics of corruption.
But like many British attempts to do something fundamentally American, there’s a somewhat stretched, wannabe air to its noir ambience – an obstacle Greene overcame with the superior The Third Man.
Thin but charming extras.
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