BACKGROUND TO DANGER

New Zealand Listener, Volume 10, Issue 252, 21 April 1944, Page 16

BACKGROUND TO DANGER

(Warner Bros.)

[N which Peter Lorre bobs up again, in spite of Conrad Veidt’s cold-blooded destruction of him in All Through the Night, to play one more of

those ambiguous, which-side-is-he-on, sibilant secret agent parts that Warner Bros, keep in their ice-chest for him. And in which George Rhumba Raft _makes an uncalled-for come-back after an absence of I don’t know how long I don’t know where. Background to Danger, they call it, the three Brothers Warner; and Turkey, turreted Turkey, is their happy hunting-ground. And to help in the hunt and the chase, to whoop things up and keep the danger cauldron bubbling, they have Sidney Greenstreet (practically direct from Broadway), Osa Massen and Brenda Marshall, besides various other people dressed to look suitably near-Eastern. The director is Raoul Walsh, In spite of all this, Background to Danger is a flop and a bore, and our little man was persuaded to sit and look simply because of the presence of Peter Lorre and one or two quaint touches. Once upon a time I saw a film called Crime and Punishment. Not that I want you to think it was notably like the book of the same name; but still, it was a landmark film, and in it Peter Lorre played the part of the murderer Raskolnikoff in such a way that from then on I had to see him every time he appeared, This meant a dreary time for me, with Mr. Moto after Mr. Moto and ‘only an occasional gleam (such as The Man Who Knew Too Much) to confirm me in my belief that Peter Lorre was brilliant. But at last I’ve got the stitch. I’m tired of these softly sinister parts he plays, the little spy who’s just clever enough to shoot someone in the first scene and just careless enough to get himself shot in the last scene-the gliding walk, hands in pockets. .. O, Peter Lorre, O Warner Bros., weep for the shades of Raskolnikoff, The Man Who Knew Too Much, the Hairless Mexicani (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) I’m tired. But still I sit and look and hope. ‘ And as George Raft labours hard to find out who is labouring hard to embroil Turkey with Russia (of course he guesses the Nazis have a finger in the delight somewhere), as Sidney Greenstreet hurries busily between Berlin and Aleppo arranging for certain maps to be delivered to him, our little man and I take pleasure in collecting Quaint Touches: that uncompromising tie-pin on Mr. Raft (we suppose it is supposed to. indicate that he is what he says he is, an Amurrican oil salesman); that chewing-gum Mr. Raft so cunningly uses to stick the maps to the underside of the table in his hotel bedroom (funny how surprised Mr. Raft is to find the table turned upside down when he returns); and, so quaint we could roarbut then, of course, we’re in the game ourselves-Mr. Raft’s businesslike visit to. the comp. room in the newspaper office to break up the whole forme of offending type (that’s the article that would have embroiled Russia and Turkey, you understand), while the comps. all run about wildly in white aprons, trying to stop him before he knocks the type out with a hammer, lifting up the forme lightly and deftly in his spare hand, just the mere ,undredweight or so. Yes, if it hadn’t been for the Quaint ChOs..a a0