American, in
trade, went there to escape the family strictures on working for a living, came
back to die in the castle, his relations do themselves in to get his boodle.
A masterpiece of great
style and verve, personified in the director’s performance as the English
nephew, not a crevice in him anywhere, perfectly matched by Wendy Hiller as his
dear wife.
The felicity of
the conclusion is allowed to peep through midway so as to prepare the
complication dreadfully well, the coroner’s inquest is presented with a
criminologist’s deduction that Uncle George murdered his relatives to
advance his prestige somehow, evidence points to this, but the true state of
affairs is self-evident, out of their own mouths the hapless guilty are
condemned.
Bosley Crowther
of the New York Times could not grasp it in the slightest, whereas the
presence of Katie Johnson easily suggests a monumental analysis of
Mackendrick’s The Ladykillers, a quite satisfactory arrangement.
Johnny Nobody
Irish
gunman, immemorial, striking down a blasphemer.
Rival
author in the literary wars, if truth be told, Ireland the place where it all
happens (cp. Elephant, dir. Alan
Clarke).
Mystifications,
a literal bog, a number of Hitchcockisms (The 39 Steps, North by Northwest etc.), and the inescapable mystery, old as the hills
and John Ford (The Informer, The Fugitive).
Bosley Crowther of the New
York Times, “little... to recommend this rambling Irish film to
anybody with an average intelligence,” overreaching.
Britmovie, “surprising
and provocative drama that only weakens when the mystery and suspense elements
are introduced.” Dan Pavlides (Rovi), “routine thriller.” Halliwell’s Film Guide, “mysterious rigmarole”.