Review #1,096: 'The Brute Man' (1946)

Jean Yarbrough's The Brute Man. remembered as the final film to star horror icon and all-round tragic figure Rondo Hatton, has a backstory infinitely more interesting than the movie itself. With Universal Pictures adopting a new policy against releasing any more B-movies, The Brute Man was shipped off to PRC (Producers Releasing Corporation), one of the smaller production companies known as 'Poverty Row', which would release the film without any mention of Universal's involvement. Some say that Universal distanced themselves out of sheer embarrassment of their exploitation of Hatton, an actor suffering from acromegaly who died before the film was even released.

Reprising his most famous role for the third and final time (after the Sherlock Holmes story The Pearl of Death and Yarbrough's House of Horrors), Hatton's The Creeper is back on the loose in an unnamed city (probably New York), and seeking revenge on those who wronged him. Without giving too much away, the Creeper was once a handsome football star, much like Hatton himself, before an accident disfigures him, and the police are on high alert when bodies start turning up with their backs broken. In the film's attempt to inspire some sympathy for the killer, the Creeper falls in love with beautiful blind pianist Helen Paige (Jane Adams), the only person not be instantly repulsed by his appearance.

As a slice of B-movie horror, The Brute Man is forgettable and formulaic, and with a run time of less than an hour, there's a remarkable lack of depth. The performances are blank and stagy, with the exception of the sweet Adams and 'King of the B-movies' Tom Neal, the latter of whom would go on to star in film noir classic Detour (1945) and get away with murdering his wife once his acting career stalled. However, the film's biggest crime is its treatment of Hatton. He is forced to act through incredibly uncomfortable scenes such as an entire restaurant full of patrons fleeing in horror from the sight of him through a window, and play a character who is as morally disfigured as he is physically, despite those half-arsed attempts to show a gentler side. Shame on you, Universal.


Directed by: Jean Yarbrough
Starring: Rondo Hatton, Tom Neal, Jan Wiley, Jane Adams
Country: USA

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #436: 'Detour' (1945)

Apparently shot in six days with a budget of $20,000 (other sources claim it was up to $100,000 however), Detour was a quickie noir from director Edgar G. Ulmer made for one of Hollywood's 'poverty row' production companies. It came and went, and seemed destined for B-movie obscurity. Yet the work of director Ulmer and star Ann Savage (here playing femme fatale Vera) were re-evaluated during the 1980's and up to the modern day, and Detour has become one of the key film noirs, and I remember studying it at University amongst others. Although this isn't the greatest film noir by a long shot, it certainly one of the purest, and one that captures the tragic desperation and twisted morals of the genre's themes most convincingly.

Miserable piano player Al (Tom Neal) works for a shady nightclub with his club-singer girlfriend Sue (Claudia Drake). She packs up a leaves for the glamour of Hollywood, and soon after Al decides to join her, but has to hitch his way cross the country. He is picked up by bookie Charles Haskell Jr. (Edmund MacDonald) and the two seem to hit it off. As the rain comes down, Al pulls over to put the top up while Haskell sleeps, but when Al opens the passenger door, Haskell falls out and hits his head, killing him. Terrified the police will suspect murder, Al buries the body and flees, assuming Haskell's clothes, car, money, and identity. He picks up a hitcher named Vera (Savage) who has an acid tongue and a bad attitude, who turns out to be Haskell's previous passenger, and she smells foul play.

Nothing about this film is particularly engaging visually - it has standard camera-work and lighting - and Tom Neal is a rather plain leading man, but it's the tension, and the sheer bleakness of the proceedings that engages. The roads of America are long and winding enough to corrupt your soul, it seems, but when Al thinks he may just have gotten away with it, along comes Vera to squeeze the situation for all the dough she can. Savage's performance is full of sneering, angry swagger, and although it's a slightly one-trick performance, she is certainly memorable, both sexy and dangerous enough to chew up and spit out the majority of other femme fatales. This should be a forgettable film, and one that would usually be gathering dust in an archive somewhere, but its haunting qualities will stay with you. Certainly one of the greatest B-movies ever made, and a must-see for film noir purists.


Directed by: Edgar G. Ulmer
Starring: Tom Neal, Ann Savage, Edmund MacDonald, Claudia Drake
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie