JOHNNY ANGEL

New Zealand Listener, Volume 14, Issue 349, 1 March 1946, Page 25

JOHNNY ANGEL

(RKO-Radio)

ALMOST the only thing which ' distinguishes Johnny Angel from a host of other pictures (if you can call it distinction) is the fact that the producers have

resisted the temptation to involve the Axis in all the villainy that happens ashore and afloat. Instead of Nazi agents being responsible for murdering the crew of the ship that is smuggling five million dollars’ worth of gold bullion from Marseilles to New Orleans, this major piece of skullduggery-together with all the illegal activities that arise from it to complicate the story-is the work of a pre-war vintage pack of Hollywood wolves in sheep’s clothing. I had hopes at the start of something a good deal out of the ordinary, for the film builds up an effectively sinister atmosphere around the discovery of the derelict ship which was carrying the gold. The precious cargo has disappeared, and so has the crew; the screen is oné big question-mark. But nothing much emerges from the atmosphere . thus created except a routine melodrama of a highly improbable kind which enables George Raft, as the nautical son of the murdered sea-captain, to exploit his particular brand of toughness by unmasking the crooks, avenging his father, and protecting a beautiful foreigner in distress (Signe Hasso). Edward L. Marin is the director of Johnny Angel, and he knows all the tricks to play on an audience’s nerves with ‘deserted wharves and decks, doors creaking open in the silence, echoing pavements, shadows in dim doorways. But there comes a point when tricks like thése fail; and that point is reached more than once in this film. If the door that swings open mysteriously never leads anywhere, if there keeps on being nothing at the end of those dark and menacing passages, one is entitled to feel that so much emphasis upon sinister effects is rather a waste of time. There are, however, two noteworthy features of Johnny Angel apart from the previously mentioned absence of Nazis. One is the performance of Signe Hasso, who expresses so convincingly the bewilderment and terror of the French girl who travelled mysteriously aboard the ship from Marseilles. The other is the appearance of Hoagy Carmichael as a New Orleans taxi-driver. He is actually nothing more than part of the atmosphere, but in spite of his irrelevance to

the plot contributes substantially to the picture. Claire Trevor is also present in another of her portrayals of wicked womanhood: an unlikely character, but no more unlikely than almost anything else in the film. In fact, one gets the impression that the director himself became a little entangled in the web of deception he was weaving. At any rate he seems to have forgotten to explain one or two crucial points in the story. But if you are willing to overlook the loose ends, are prepared to cast probability to the winds, and are in the mood to enjoy murder, free-for-all fights, and a sinister atmosphere you may find yourself suited by Johnny Angel.