aka Five Days
- Directed by Montgomery Tully
- Written by Paul Tabori
- Starring
- Dane Clark
- Cecile Chavreau
- Paul Carpenter
- Thea Gregory
- Anthony Forwood
- Produced by Anthony Hinds
Of the Hammer-produced crime noirs I’ve seen so far (the others reviewed here, here, and here), Paid to Kill is by far the best of them. Not because of production superiority, or better acting, or even a better screenplay on a scene-by-scene basis, but because the concept of the story is so much more arresting. It’s what Hollywood calls “high concept,” a story idea which alone can sell a movie. Here it is; tell me I’m wrong.
A despondent businessman arranges for his own murder, then finds he can’t call it off.
Floor-level windows + rolling chair + harried executive = disaster waiting to happen.
Our designated American star this time out is Dane Clark, a workhorse actor bets known for four decades of television guest roles. Here, he plays Jim Neville, the go-getter president of Amalgamated Industries, and in the opening scene we see the rug pulled out from under him: the deal which he has set up with Cyrus McGowan (Howard Marion Crawford), the deal which he has been planning for four months and for which he’s mortgaged the future of the company, is off. It’s almost surreal the extent to which the nature of the deal, not to mention the nature of Amalgamated’s business, is strictly left unmentioned; while I can understand the desire from a storytelling perspective to keep from getting bogged down in the minutia of corporate detail, the office and boardroom scenes are wiped so clean of any reference to specific industry that it almost feels comical, like the generic corporation for which Fed Savage’s character worked on the sitcom “Working.”
We’re introduced to a number of supporting characters in and around the offices, including board members whose attitude toward their president varies from honest admiration to crocodile smiles to undisguised revulsion. We also meet Joan (Cecile Chevreau), Jim’s consummately competent secretary who pretty obviously carries a huge torch for her boss, though in a prim and proper British manner. Jim has never noticed because he is absolutely besotted with his wife Andrea (Thea Gregory) — in fact, he’s besotted just with her photograph on his desk. And it’s because of his devotion to Andrea and her need to be kept from harm from the fall of his house of cards that he sets in motion his plan.
“I’m sorry, Jim, but your friend’s collar pains my eyes.”
After begging an extra 48 hours from the board on the pretext of wrapping up the final details on this make-or-break deal, Jim contacts his old friend-by-obligations Paul Kirby (Paul Carpenter — say, two American actors in one film!). Paul shares Jim’s rough and tumble beginnings, but hasn’t been able to replicate his success; he’s bounced from one enterprise to another, bailed out more than once by Jim. Jim was even the sole exculpatory witness at Paul’s trial for the death of the husband of Paul’s then-current paramour, helping to win the self-defense acquittal. So when Jim wants someone killed, it’s Paul he calls. And the target is to be Jim himself.
Jim has it all figured out; because his insurance won’t cover suicide, he wants Paul to stage a definite murder, with no help from Jim because familiarity with the plan might make him act suspiciously. Jim’s got it all figured out: an alibi for Paul, payment for services, and the time frame — any time in the three days after the next 48 hours. Paul is aghast, but Jim plays upon all their history, all of the jeopardy Paul would be in if Jim reneged on his testimony in that murder case, to help engender some hatred in Paul that will help push him into the act more than the thousand pounds of payment would. A fistfight probably fans those flames, too.
“Mr. Neville, I don’t recall ‘re-affixing your toupee’ listed as one of my job duties.”
It is, Jim thinks, all arranged. And two days later, just when he’s about to march into that boardroom and reveal his utter failure… in strides McGowan, happy to go forward with the deal now that he’s done with his excursion in Mexico. Jim’s intended confession to the board instead becomes a triumphal declaration, and as Jim almost skips around the office in giddy relief, he gives Joan an important message: get ahold of Paul, and tell him the deal is off.
Jim’s greeting at home isn’t quite up to his mood; Andrea, having no idea of the events of the last couple of days, accuses him of being a workaholic who barety notices her. What’s more, Jim had asked Peter (Anthony Forwood), one of the younger board members and a fellow in their social circle, to take care of Andrea socially for at least a few days, and they’re just on their way to a play. (Imagine a world like that, where you tell your male acquaintances, “Take my wife out on a date, will you?”) Joan calls with the news that she can’t find Paul anywhere. And when Jim heads out to find Paul himself and call the deal off, he soon ends up with his skull creased by a bullet…
Down those mean streets a man must go… but be careful. They drive on the wrong side of the road.
From here, the story follows Jim (aided by long-suffering Joan) as he tries to find Paul and stop him, without going to the police (because of a little thing called “insurance fraud”) and without alarming Andrea. The search gets even more complicated when Jim finds out that Paul supposedly left the country several days ago rather than kill Jim — so who else could be using the occasion to get rid of him with several attempts on his life?
It’s a nifty little tale, told economically. It’s also got more noir elements than most of its co-production compatriots, and right where it counts: a good man compromised, That’s not to say it couldn’t be improved upon; I especially would have like to see the contrast played between Jim’s utter devotion to Andrea and her perception of his actions as workaholic avoidance of her. Paul also mentions how he and Jim had both started out pretty rough, which might have been the backdrop for a nifty ‘descent” on Paul’s part, as he has to shed the accoutrements of a well-to-do executive and retreat to his rough origins to catch the would-be killer. Attention paid to either (or both) of those plot ideas could have raised Paid to Kill to the level of a minor classic, but even as it stands, the movie’s an entertaining and engaging piece of crime-suspense cinema, with a plot conceit so arresting that I’m surprised it hasn’t been remade yet.
A Turkish bath? Still better than a stupid bathtub.
A final word of warning: If you should choose to seek this one out for your personal collection (it’s currently available on Volume 5 of the double-feature Hammer Film Noir discs from VCI Entertainment), do not read the back of the DVD case. Whoever wrote the summary decided to devote his scant paragraph of text to giving away the ending, in full “Darth Vader is Luke’s father and his sled was named Rosebud” fashion.
Some Notable Totables:
- body count: 1
- breasts: 0
- explosions: 1
- ominous thunderstorms: 0
- actors who’ve appeared on Star Trek: 0
Discuss This
Respond to This
