Nowhere to Go, 1958.
Directed by Seth Holt.
Starring George Nader, Maggie Smith, Bernard Lee, Harry H. Corbett and Lionel Jeffries.
SYNOPSIS:
After breaking out of prison, a thief and conman attempts to flee the country only to end up on the run in the Welsh countryside.
Don’t expect to sympathise with a man like Paul Gregory (George Nader). He’s used up his friends, burned all his bridges and leeched off the goodwill of strangers long enough. Cool indifference and conversational sleight of hand are his professional trademark. He engineers friendships, cultivates sympathy and expects everyone to consider human relations in the same manner.
Paul Gregory is a con man. It’d be more honest to call him a high-functioning sociopath, as the actions that lead him from one disaster to the next all hinge on his inability to truly feel anything for anyone else. He says his friends call him ‘Greg’. What friends? Victor Sloane (Bernard Lee) The only man that even remotely resembles an acquaintance has no hesitation in savagely beating Greg for an extra three grand in his pocket. But then, Sloane knows what Greg really is.
It’s a simple enough con to start off with; Greg manufactures a ‘chance’ encounter between himself a middle-aged Canadian widow who just happens to be in England to sell her extremely valuable antique coin collection. Greg knows he’s an attractive man, and he teases Mrs Harriet P. Jefferson with it, flirting and charming his way through a masterfully edited sequence that functions almost like a call-and-answer jazz duet.
Like so much in this film, it’s swift, cool, classy, and to the point. This has a lot to do Dizzy Reece’s gloriously unconventional jazz bop score, and even more to do with director Seth Holt’s obvious expertise as an editor. As a first-time director he does extraordinarily well, creating his own bold, fluid visual style that flatters and progresses the story rather than distracting from it. A case in point is the masterpiece of cinematic suspense that is the first 10 minutes of this film, as Sloane helps Greg break out of prison in the dead of night. It gets so that you daren’t so much as breathe loudly in case the guards hear you from the other side of the TV screen.
Nowhere To Go boasts all the hallmarks of film noir with none of its tired clichés. Gunplay and gangsters make brief, high-impact appearances. Nobody talks like they’re in a film, spouting quotable sentiment or colourful threats. To butcher a popular saying, acting speaks louder than dialogue; and George Nader acts the downward spiral of Paul Gregory with all the subtlety and finesse of a professional con.
Nader might not be a household name, but the incredible supporting cast around him certainly are now. Even in her very first film appearance, the actress who would go on to become everybody’s favourite Dowager Countess was nominated for a ‘Best Newcomer’ BAFTA on the strength of this performance.
It’s strange and tantalising to see Maggie Smith aged 24, still in the full flush of youth, with her tender soft voice and her seductive glances working all too well on an audience who grew up seeing her play matronly housekeepers and stern schoolmasters. The hallmarks of the fine actress we all know and love today are all too plain to see in the way she catches the eye whenever she’s on screen. Those keen, piercing eyes express in one telling look what it took her contemporaries half a dozen heaving bosoms to get across.
Bond fans will instantly recognise Bernard Lee and Geoffrey Keen as M and the Defence Minister, the men who so often sent him off into danger with a cutting remark and a reproachful look. Lee’s paternal role in those films makes his cold-blooded brutality all the more disturbing. A supremely effective shot shows us the power of perspective, as we look up from the floor where Greg lies in agony at Lee’s sly, underlit smile, taking quiet triumph in wiping the smug grin off his partner’s face.
Only Alexander MacKendrick (The Ladykillers) before him had so radically altered the public perception of Ealing Studio’s output. It was quite a leap from the cosy comedies and quiet domestic dramas to this starkly sly manhunt film, with its brassy, jazz-like rhythm and final wake-up to harsh reality.
It’s easy to detach yourself from the colourful violence when it’s happening on the dark boulevards of Los Angeles or rainy New York backstreets. Indeed, Touch of Evil was just as brutal and noirish in that same year of 1958, but it took until 1971 and Michael Caine’s career-best performance in Get Carter before we saw another British film that truly matched Nowhere To Go for sheer impact of familiarity. Greg’s final moments are every bit as harrowing, every bit as grimly poetic as Carter’s death on that wind-torn Newcastle beach.
Nowhere To Go is everything you were hoping to get from twenty re-viewings of The Third Man or Brighton Rock. This is a forgotten classic; a jazz tragedy finally restored to public memory. This is the first time it’s been seen on DVD, and the first time the original 100 minute version has been seen outside the cutting room. There isn’t nearly enough room to tell you everything I love about this film. You’ll just have to watch it and make your own list. See to it.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Simon Moore is a budding screenwriter, passionate about films both current and classic. He has a strong comedy leaning with an inexplicable affection for 80s montages and movies that you can’t quite work out on the first viewing.
