THE PRICE OF FEAR: Blu-ray (Universal-International, 1956) Kino Lorber

Another case of a run-of-the-mill crime story with A-list headliners, former golden-age glamour gal, Merle Oberon and has-been Tarzan-alumni, Lex Baker, director, Abner Biberman’s The Price of Fear (1956) is a thoroughly twisted, but rather disposable programmer, shot mostly on the Universal back lot. At just a little under 1 ½ hrs. the picture, all slick and stylishly produced with Irving Glassberg’s noir-lit cinematography the real/reel star, seems otherwise to lag and sputter like a vintage Model-T on the verge of running out of gas. The screenplay by Dick Irving Hyland, based on a story idea from Robert Tallman, just never gets off the ground. Borrowing from the noir aesthetic with a voice-over narration to kick off our introduction, and thereafter intermittently intrude upon the plot points being unfurled, Biberman and Hyland have forgotten that this noir device is usually afforded the hero and not some tertiary character, in this case, Police Sgt. Pete Carroll (Charles Drake), who just happens to be a friend of the actual protagonist, David Barrett (Lex Baker). Talk about a conflict of interest. Not only does Pete refuse to believe Barrett is guilty of a hit and run that took the life of an elderly dog-walker, Emilio Ferranti (Ken Terrell) in the suburbs, but he also insists to his superiors Barrett had nothing to do with the murder of his old business partner, Lou Beldon (Tim Sullivan) – gunned down in a set-up outside of a nightclub. The fact, Barrett is guilty of neither crime is moot as the picture spends barely enough time embroiling this broad-shouldered buffoon, then, wasting the latter half on his burgeoning love affair with affluent business woman, Jessica Warren (Merle Oberon) who actually did run down Ferranti. Seems this was a night when the devil just couldn’t leave well enough alone – Jessica, being more than slightly inebriated and just a wee ‘too happy’ for her own good. After accidentally hitting Ferranti with her car, she compounds her complicity by fleeing the scene, only to pull over a few blocks up the street to attempt and telephone the police with her tearful confession.

Alas, at this juncture, Barrett makes his own fatal mistake. Fleeing the goon squad of one Frankie Edare (Warren Stevens) who has forced Beldon out of the dog track business and now, is trying to muscle in on Barrett’s half of the venture, either by hook or crook, Barrett swipes Jessica’s car while she is at a payphone, driving off to escape bodily harm. As far as Jessica is concerned, this is the perfect cover-up. By reporting her vehicle stolen, the police can infer whoever took the car also ran Ferranti down in the street. First problem: Jessica has a conscience. Second problem: she finds herself falling in love with Barrett, whom she first meets at the police station, then again, at her downtown office. Ferranti’s daughter, Nina (Gia Scala) is bitter, but not about to send an innocent man to jail for her father’s death. And thus, a shadowy game of cat and mouse – teeming with bribery, deceit, danger and suicide begins. In spite of these intrigues, The Price of Fear is not a well-made noir, but a seedy little melodrama, rather predictably to ball up into a finale, so contrived as to compliment the then prevailing ‘crime doesn’t pay’ mantra in the movies, that it sincerely forgets to remain true to its characters. There is a reason why Lex Barker made such a good Tarzan but such an awful leading man herein. Dialogue is not his thing; Barker, so atrociously wooden, he completely diffuses whatever sexual chemistry there might have been between his butch and brooding businessman and Oberon’s glammed-up social butterfly. Aside: in hindsight, it is also a little hard to buy into Barker’s noble knight here, given that he has since been revealed to have raped Lana Turner’s daughter, Cheryl Crane, while married to her mother. But that is another story for another time.

Ours begins with Barrett’s discovery Beldon has sold out to gangster, Frankie Edare – or rather, forced out, after being roughed up by the gangland kingpin’s goon squad. Frankie also tries to make Barrett an offer he can’t refuse. But it’s no good. Barrett’s the straight arrow type, and not about to lose his half of this lucrative business venture. Confronting both Frankie and Beldon at the Intermezzo Club, this scene, rather predictably, ends with Barrett – in front of a packed house – threatening to kill Beldon if ever again their paths cross. At this same moment across town, Jessica Warren is driving home from a nightclub celebration, feeling no pain until she swerves to miss a wayward dog darting across the street and instead runs down its owner. Terrified, she flees the scene, though, after her moment of madness, a tearful Jessica pulls into a nearby fill station to use the payphone and call for the police. At this precise moment, Barrett reappears. Having jumped from his taxi whose driver, Johnny McNab (Stafford Rep) insists he wants no trouble after being pursued by Frankie’s men. Barrett darts down the alley and takes advantage of Jessica’s car, driving off before she can prevent his getaway. Rethinking her call to the police, Jessica instead reports her car stolen outside of her business, thereby giving herself an alibi at the time Ferranti was struck down. And, it stands to reason the police will likely suspect whoever took the car is also responsible for the hit and run.

Meanwhile, back at Intermezzo, Frankie lures Beldon into the back alley under the pretext he will drive him home. Instead, Beldon is gunned down in cold blood, tying up yet another loose end in Frankie’s grand scheme to take over the dog track. The papers report Barrett is sought for questioning in Beldon’s murder. But Barrett has a real pal in city det. Pete Carol who informs his superior, Police Lt. Jim Walsh (Dan Riss) of the improbability Barrett – an otherwise respectable businessman – is involved in this crime. Alas, Pete’s faith in Barrett flies in the face of multiple witnesses who corroborate Barrett threatened Beldon; also, the sworn statement of an oily pawnbroker and Frankie’s stooge, Bolasny (Konstantin Shayne) who insists Barrett bought a shotgun from him the previous night – the same weapon used to gun down Beldon in the alley. Picked up on a charge of grand theft auto, Barrett is informed by Pete the timing of the hit and run actually clears him of any complicity in Beldon’s murder. That’s the good news. The bad news: Jessica is sticking to her story, and, rather idiotically, is startled when Barrett is informed by Walsh, should Ferranti die, he will also be charged with vehicular manslaughter. Recognizing this as a double frame-up, Barrett decides to visit Jessica at her office. And although he senses she is somehow responsible, he nevertheless begins to empathize with her predicament, and she, with the situation her lies have helped to establish. In their shared compassion, the two begin to fall in love.

Pete informs Jessica he is suspicious of her alibi. But Barrett is momentarily convinced. Rather dim-witted, Barrett lets it be known his air-tight alibi is the cabbie, McNab, who can vouch for his whereabouts at the time of Beldon’s murder, and, also, Ferranti’s hit and run. Attempting to locate McNab, Jessica inadvertently throws the heat on him. Now, Frankie confronts Jessica with a bribe, knowing she ran down Ferranti. At her apartment, Jessica receives a curious box of flowers, also containing the shotgun used to murder Beldon. She and Barrett take the gun to the pawnbroker, who openly admits he does not know the identity of the man who bought it from him. Drawing the couple’s attention to Frankie’s right-hand man, Vince Burton (Phillip Pine), presently at the back of the store, Vince nevertheless manages to escape. Now, Vince tails Jessica, knowing she will lead him to McNab. Indeed, Jessica slips McNab’s wife, Ruth (Mary Field) $1,000 to remain silent. Ruth lies to Barrett that her husband is out of town when, in fact, he is cowering in the next room. Guilt-ridden, McNab telephones Barrett in an attempt to set the record straight. Instead, he is gunned down by Vince. Meanwhile, Nina bitterly informs Barrett her father has succumbed to his injuries sustained in the accident. She continues to blame him.

Having figured out enough for himself, Barrett confronts Jessica with the particulars of the hit and run. She confesses to it, although she embellishes Frankie’s threats to draw out Barrett’s sympathy for her. Now, Mrs. McNab arrives, confronting Jessica in Barrett’s presence and warning him she is not to be trusted. After Ruth leaves, Jessica begs Barrett to believe in her. After all, she loves him. Falling for her charms yet again, Barrett is nevertheless firm in his demands. He orders Jessica to telephone the police and confess her crime. She has 24-hrs. to do so. Barrett departs for his own apartment where, again, he is confronted by Nina. Only this time, having learned of Barrett’s whereabouts from Pete, she knows he could not have killed her father. Rather sincerely, she offers to help him instead. Barrett informs Nina he knows the identity of her father’s killer and faithfully promises to share this information with her ‘tomorrow’. Jessica telephones, frantic for another day or two. She will author a confession, but not before she is allowed to flee the country. Suspecting her getaway by train, Barrett intercepts Jessica just as the train is pulling out of station, quite unaware Frankie and Vince are already aboard. Mercifully, Nina has followed him to the station and now telephones Pete to inform him of the train’s departure. Jessica lures Barrett to the baggage car where Frankie and Vince are waiting. Frankie explains how, a little way up the track, a southbound train will pass within feet, affording for the perfect opportunity to tie up all of his ‘loose ends’.  Meanwhile, at the first stop, Pete boards and learns from the conductor that the man’s voice he heard on the telephone from the baggage car was not the regularly schedule attendant. Breaking into the baggage car moments before Frankie and Vince are about to toss Barrett in front of the on-coming train, Pete subdues the criminals. While Barrett is spared, Jessica – still unable to face the consequences of her crime – commits suicide by leaping from the open cargo door in front of the southbound train.

Despite its histrionics, The Price of Fear is a tepid C-grade programmer with few highlights to recommend it. Each of the characters here are stock ‘noir’ cardboard cutouts – the dupe, the patsy, the goon, etc. What’s missing is a good solid femme fatale. Merle Oberon’s Jessica is a real conflicted sort – the ‘good girl’, corrupted by the notion one fateful error in judgment will topple all of the hard work she has thus far invested to make her life a success. And indeed, Oberon's Jess' remains the tragic figure here as she cannot override her virtue entirely to become the devious and destructive self-preservationist. So, in the end, she takes her own life in trade for the sins she has committed. That might have built up to an epic tragedy, if only Hyland’s screenplay were not so invested in transforming Lex Barker’s square-jawed hunk into the Johnny Dollar of this piece. Barker’s Barrett just lumbers around, naïve and blindsided by love, supposedly tough, but easily beaten to a pulp in the climax, leaving his status as the hero in jeopardy. So, the heavy lifting is left to Charles Drake’s Pete Carroll who, apart from narrating, and making the occasional well-timed observation, using his police procedural powers of deduction, has very little to do in this story until he miraculously reappears in its final reel to save the day.  The Price of Fear falls apart because it contains no characters of genuine moral stature who have the brain power and the guts between them to make their hollow virtue stick. Even though Hollywood’s 'crime doesn't pay' mantra endures in the end, it also sacrifices some basically good people along the way who, otherwise, would have endeavored to ensure truth, justice and the American way prevail with a lot less bloodshed.

The Price of Fear arrives on Blu-ray via Universal Home Video’s alliance with Kino Lorber. Basically, this is another half-ass offering from Uni – with Kino, as the distributor of some decidedly less than stellar product. For starters, gate weave is a big issue; the image, frequently bobbing up and down, resulting in overall image instability. Certain scenes appear to have been derived from dupes, as grain is needlessly amplified and age-related artifacts are greatly exaggerated. There are also hints of residual edge enhancement – a definite sign Uni is cribbing again from a source at least several decades old. Honestly, can Universal just commit to offering new 4K scans of the deep catalog, culling the best surviving elements together with some basic clean-up applied? The argument is oft made, such efforts take time and money. No kidding. But if the Warner Archive has found a way to make this profitable, it is high time other studios took the tip and began their own archival preservation programs.  Dumping vast amounts of vintage product on the hi-def market, using video scans that are from the DVD mastering era is not the answer. And The Price of Fear, while not entirely looking terrible, could have looked considerably better with just a little more due diligence applied. The B&W elements here show some nice contrast, and, occasional, good solid detail. It is the many inconsistencies in the image that make this, another annoying viewing experience. Just when you think the elements are looking pretty good, a scene appears in which one or all of the aforementioned shortcomings conspire to deprive us of a truly excellent viewing experience. The audio is DTS 1.0 mono and adequate for this presentation. There are NO extras. Bottom line: a middling movie, given a middling 1080p transfer. Judge and buy accordingly.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

0