Rich Page A decent film featuring an under-used cast of great actors. The standouts are: Ida Lupino, who excels in the role of a cynical but good-natured predator -- she owns roles like this, and practically walks off with the film; and Vincent Price, who's convincingly smug and naive -- he's not a bad guy, just lazy and clueless. Dana Andrews is fine, but he's done better work and could have used more of an edge. He's too nice here -- why does he drink so much? Why has he given up on his career? Why does he suddenly care about the murders in this film? Why doesn't he fall for Lupino, who's more his type? Thomas Mitchell manages to dig out of the script whatever he can put to use, especially when he grapples with the tension between ethics and ambition; Mitchell is always a step better (at least) than the material he's given, and that's no exception here. George Sanders seems to be on cruise control for most of the film, but doesn't do any harm. Rhonda Fleming is fine and voluptuously convincing, but Howard Duff is vague and Sally Forrest and Larry Craig are in over their heads -- there are too many great actors in this cast for them to even hold their own.There are three culprits. First, Lang's pace is sluggish and he seems uncomfortable with a wider screen. His camera should be giving us more of these characters, especially in close- up. Second, the script is frequently preposterous and short on character development -- it's not clear why most of these characters do what they do, and a few more lines of dialogue would have served everybody well. Finally, John Barrymore Jr. is frankly awful. His "look at me, I'm nuts" performance is mostly embarrassing, especially once you've seen actors like Robert Walker nail the concept more subtly and deftly.All that said, this is worth a look. There are terrific performances here, and an honest attempt to understand the relationship between ethics and business competition.

ShootingShark When NYC newspaper tycoon Walter Kyne dies and the city is plagued by a serial killer, the pressure is on at Kyne Corporation to crack the case and inherit the top job ...This late-period film noir is a great little thriller with a terrific subtext - the killer's moral degeneracy reflected in the ethics of the media men who'll go to almost any lengths to get an exclusive. Made during TV's infancy, it is startlingly prescient of tabloid journalism tactics (here in the UK there is currently a huge public enquiry on exactly this subject), with Andrews excellent as the weary columnist tired of the seemingly endless lust of his bosses for titillating scoops. Everyone is a grifter looking to exploit the killer's acts to make themselves richer or more important, and the sensational cast chew through their dialogue in true hardball style. Mitchell comes out on top, Price and Sanders compare slimeball notes, Lupino is the gossip columnist from Hell, Fleming is even hotter than usual, and Barrymore (son of John and father of Drew) is intensely scary as the Lipstick Killer, in the kind of part that made Robert DeNiro a star. Adapted by Casey Robinson from Charles Einstein's wonderfully-titled book The Bloody Spur, based on a real case. This movie was made at the tail-end of Lang's illustrious career, but it's typically full of directorial inventiveness, tight pacing, brilliantly observed characters and a sobering view of human nature. It perhaps owes a little to some earlier films (Ace In The Hole, say), but it's a great, gripping, B-movie potboiler with a sensational cast.

st-shot Fritz Lang's While the City Sleeps shows the suspense master has lost a lot off of his fastball in this run of the mill drama involving a media power struggle and a serial killer. It's a long way from Berlin where the stairwells were a lot more intimidating.The Kyn media empire is thrown into chaos when it's founder and owner dies. The son (Vincent Price) is a clueless but also ruthless playboy and he pits department heads against each other to consolidate his own power. Meanwhile a serial killer with a mother complex is terrorizing the city and finding the killer may well be the path to upward mobility.There's little tension or suspense to be found in WTCS with its incredulous oversights that lapse into silly premise with the cast playing it broad both successfully (Price, Thomas Mitchell, George Sanders) and flat (Dana Andrews, Sally Forrest, Rhonda Fleming, ) while others ( John Drew Barrymore and Ida Lupino ) take it over the top. Lang's direction is dated and stilted, Ernest Lazlo's photography mood-less and washed out. The sets have a floodlit television studio look and without shadows to accent his compositions become lifeless and mundane, his characters less sinister and amoral. Lang does do a decent balancing act with the newsroom drama rotating his characters who back stab, form alliances, seduce and cheat without allowing things to become convoluted. But with his visual energy zapped and Barrymore a dime store Lorre the films urgency wanes. What does make Sleep interesting is the unintentional capsule view of the period with it's common acceptance of drinking on the job, heavy smoking, blind ambition for upward mobility ( this is still around in abundance ) and sexism though it should be added that at the film's conclusion the female leads hold most of the cards.

Spikeopath While the City Sleeps is directed by Fritz Lang and adapted to screenplay by Casey Robinson from the novel The Bloody Spur written by Charles Einstein. It stars Dana Andrews, Rhonda Fleming, George Sanders, Howard Duff, Thomas Mitchell, Vincent Price, Sally Forrest, John Barrymore Jr, James Craig and Ida Lupino. Music is by Herschel Burke Gilbert and cinematography by Ernest Laszlo.When media magnate Amos Kyne (Robert Warwick) dies, the running of his empire passes to his aloof son Walter (Price). Expressing his plans to the chief members of staff, Walter explains that an executive position is available for the best applicant. He dangles a carrot in the form of the so called "Lipstick Killer" who is terrorising the city, which ever of the men helps to snare the villain, so shall they be the one who nabs the coveted position.Fritz Lang's second to last American feature is one of his most cynical pieces of work. Film consists of two plot threads deftly coiled together to create an ironic whole. As the brutal "Lipstick Killer" goes about his dastardly business, the men of the media stoop to amoral lengths chasing the prize offered up by Walter Kyne. There's barely a decent person to be found, even the women who form part of the guys lives are dubious, one is having an affair, another is only too happy to seduce one of the men to feather her own nest. While the only innocent member of the group, Sally Forrest's Nancy Liggett, her reward for being a loving innocent is to be offered up as bait for the "Lipstick Killer," and this by the guy we were thinking was our hero of the piece! Lang is clearly enjoying putting the killers "lust" on the same playing field as the media employees "greed." It's not for nothing that the director correlates for two separate scenes, that of the killer's mode of entry with that also used by Andrews' Edward Mobley as he boozily plays up to his girlfriend.Oh you men, you're all polygamists.Casey Robinson's screenplay thrives on adult speak as it sets about unwrapping the characters, keeping the story complex enough to make us take in every detail. There's always something telling going on, and with a rather impressive group of actors assembled for the film, it never sags in pace or become dull as a story. There's also plenty of suggestion thrown in as the narrative pings with themes of power, politics and sex, played out either intriguingly in all glass walled office space, or in the confines of the bar down on the street. Although it's mostly talky stuff, Lang manages to wring out plenty of tension from a number of dialogue exchanges, while the murders themselves carry with them the requisite nasty bite. What is disappointing is that the big chase finale thru the train subway system is rather tepid, which without Laszlo's photography would be instantly forgettable. And the absence of a telling score is also felt, which is annoying since the booming intro music over the credits promised so much.The stand out performance in the cast is from Lupino, who revels in playing Mildred Donner as a vamp who knows what she wants and plans to get it. Oozing wily sex appeal as she gently gnaws her glass after getting the go ahead for seducing duties, or raising temperatures as she suggestively takes an offered cigarette with her mouth. Andrews is fine, though he struggles to play drunk with any conviction and Sanders is on oily auto-pilot. Price has foppish down comfortably, while Mitchell is his usual watchable self. Fleming looks great, and gets the bikini moment to show off her curves; although her role could have done with some expansion, and Forrest eases into a virginal role, all in white she be the white rose in a bed of thorns. Interesting is Barrymore Junior as the killer (no spoiler since Lang shows us it's him from the off), he does a nice line in twitchy and sweaty for the "Mama's Boy Killer," putting some memorable insanity pathos into a scene as he is taunted on the television by Mobley.Far from perfect but always of high interest, While the City Sleeps (great title) in terms of characterisations is a Lang essential. 7.5/10