EarDelightBase
Waste of Money.
Lightdeossk
Captivating movie !
Limerculer
A waste of 90 minutes of my life
Robert J. Maxwell
Glenn Ford, with his companions James Whitmore and David Wolfe, are employees of the US Treasury Department assigned to the case of "The Big Fellow" who runs "the syndicate", sometimes called "the mob," all of whose members appear to be living beyond their means. Really, Barry Kelley, their consigliere -- I mean their "lawyer" -- files income tax returns on five thousand a year, yet drives a five-thousand dollar Chrysler and lives in a home that Hugh Hefner would envy.Well, I'll tell you. It's a tough row to hoe. The extortion racket prevails in the city. Eyeball witnesses and their families are threatened. If the threats don't seem to be working, the witnesses die natural deaths full of bullet holes. There are some people involved in the racket, one way or another, who are sympathetic but they're terrified.By dint of much effort, long hours, intrigue, and one or two dangerous meetings, Ford and his pals crack the case and The Big Fellow and all his employees wind up in the slams.There's not a great deal of action. That's not a big problem. But the script is rather routine. There is -- how should I put this? -- there is nothing WRONG with Ford. There is no edge to his character. He doesn't smoke, drink, curse, or act rude. He never raises his voice. Ford loves his devoted wife, plans to leave all the schmutz behind him and retire to a farm. He's dedicated and smart but rather a bore. Compare him to Humphrey Bogart's Sam Spade in "The Maltese Falcon." Everything about the film seems pedestrian. Yet it's not a bad movie. It's diverting in a minor way. But it's possible to imagine a hundred ways in which it could have been improved. They could start by dumping the title that reeks of stereotypy since nobody ever goes undercover.
dougdoepke
I'm surprised this noirish crime drama hasn't generated more than 3 reviews. It's not top- notch Joseph Lewis, but it is a good, solid film with several outstanding features. IRS agent Glenn Ford wants to get the goods on crime honcho "The Big Fellow". But to do that he has to get a numbers-cruncher on the inside to talk. Trouble is, candidates keep turning up dead, while wife Nina Foch never sees her man. Understandably, Ford wants to quit for a 9 to 5 job, but will he.One reason these govn't agent films of the late 40's remain interesting is because of artistic conflict. Big money studios want to extol law enforcement while writers and directors like Lewis and Anthony Mann are drawn to the dark side. Thus, the results often raise more questions than they answer, and remain a real contrast to the Dragnet-type paradigm that emerges in the Cold War 1950's. Note, for example, the dramatic highlight of gunmen chasing down a stoolie on a crowded city street. They have to push their way through the sweaty throngs, yet no one stops to intervene, show any curiosity, call a cop or do anything. No, passers-by just go about their business, letting criminality take its course. Why get involved and risk retaliation from an outfit that the community does business with anyway, especially when they play the numbers or handicap horse races. After all, this is a poor neighborhood and gambling, legal or otherwise, holds the prospect of quick riches. So why get involved.Of course, the episode might be considered nothing more than an effective contrivance. But in its setting, I think it's more than a contrivance and raises interesting questions about the law and community attitudes. Also, consider the aging desk sergeant (a superbly appropriate John Hamilton). He's on the take because he's got a wife and kids to support, not like the bachelor inspector who "can afford to be upright and honest". Now, whatever the opinion of police unions, an underpaid cop is more vulnerable than one that has some organized leverage over pay-grades. I'm not saying this is a social conscience movie. It's not. I am saying that these noirish crime dramas often contained touchy issues that the old studio- system, especially, had difficulty dealing with.As an IRS agent, Ford is appropriately professional and humorless; at the same time, I'm wondering where I can sign up for the Nina Foch fan club. No wonder Ford wants more time at home. What she lacks in curves, she makes up for in sheer beauty and I'm definitely smitten. But it's that human oil slick in a thousand dollar suit that steals the movie. As master fixer Edward J. O'Rourke, pudgy Barry Kelley is simply superb. He's so effectively oily, we ought to start pumping right now. Also in a standout role is the little girl Rosa (Joan Lazer), unfortunately her only movie credit. Anyway, it's a fairly fast-paced film, with a good, tense ending, and a suitably ironical last line. My only complaint is "The Big Fellow"— why such a awkwardly silly description when any old fictional name should do. Nonetheless, the movie remains, all in all, a credit to the Lewis canon.
Spikeopath
"In the cracking of many big criminal cases such as those of John Dillinger, Lucky Luciano and Al Capone, among others-the newspaper headlines tell only of the glamorous and sensational figures involved. But behind the headlines are the untold stories of ordinary men and women acting with extraordinary courage. This picture concerns one of those men"The Undercover Man is produced by the director of All The King's Men and The Hustler (Robert Rossen), directed by Joseph H. Lewis (The Big Combo), photographed by the guy who did Bonnie And Clyde and From Here To Eternity (Burnett Guffey) and stars Glenn Ford (Gilda and The Big Heat). I don't think it's over exaggerating things to say that this particular film has pretty high credentials. But is it any good? Well yes and no is the cop out answer really. A lot will depend on your tolerance for a crime (Noir) story without the edginess and shades of dark colours so befitting the genres Undercover Man purports to belong to.Joseph Lewis' film is a good old honest tale of genuine people, each threatened or blighted by crime, collectively coming together to thwart the mob types that ran amok back in the day. Led by the seemingly unflinching Treasury Department operative Frank Warren (Ford), we are led thru a talky movie that ultimately is relying on its "who's cooking the books, and can we prove it" plot to keep all interested. Yes a couple of potent crime scenes are in the piece to ensure we know that there are villains in our midst, but really this is a sedate sort of crime picture and prospective new viewers should be prepared for that.Technically it's fine, all involved are delivering a high standard that their respective back catalogue's suggests that they should. Other cast members range from the underused (James Whitmore) to the under written (Nina Foch), with the latter a hindrance to the film because a strong female presence would have put meat on the bones of Warren's state of mind skeleton. Shyster lawyer duties falls to Barry Kelley (The Asphalt Jungle), who does rather well to be the central focus of the badness within the picture, but he is not the main man, he is not the villain at the stories heart-and with that you can't help hankering for a real touch of villainy to really darken proceedings.Recommended for sure, but only as an interesting crime story featuring pretty interesting characters. For it's neither dark or grim enough to be considered anything else. 7/10
bmacv
Before bedecking the noir cycle with two of its gems - Gun Crazy and The Big Combo - Joseph H. Lewis exercised his talents on The Undercover Man. Scant surprise that it falls short of those two movies, the first of which boasted Peggy Cummins as Annie Laurie Starr and the second John Alton as director of photography. While the dependably gifted Burnett Guffey pinch-hits for Alton, the absence of any major female role makes a Cummins unnecessary (though still missed). So there's no countervailing axis to balance out the star, Glenn Ford.While Ford contributed yeoman's work in some indispensable titles, from Gilda to The Big Heat and Human Desire, he always stood at odds to the sardonic cool that was the hallmark of male leads in the cycle. In picture after picture, he unpacked the same old angst and wore it like a hair shirt. When his reasons were up there on the screen - a torch for Rita Hayworth, a blood-lust for revenge - he brought an uncommon intensity to roles that a flippant approach would have watered down.But in The Undercover Man he turns a glorified civil-service job into the stuff of agony. He's an undercover government agent; his worn-down wife, Nina Foch, joins him occasionally on his assignments but for the most part stays at home near Washington, D.C. where she's come to accept his extended absences with a long face. Ford and his partner James Whitmore find their frequently flipped Treasury credentials carry little weight in big-shouldered Chicago, where the syndicate's ruthlessness strikes witnesses blind and dumb even when victims are gunned down in broad daylight. And the mob's lavishly remunerated mouthpiece, Barry Kelley, impudently taunts Ford for his futile crusade against the never seen Big Fellow (as he's affectionately known around town). But in the dogged tradition of the Feds in movies like The House on 92nd Street and T-Men, Ford keeps slogging away until he finds a chink in the silent armor....The Undercover Man starts out in the detail-cluttered, reverential way of so many of these para-patriotic films, but about halfway through Lewis finds his stride and eschews hagiography for moviemaking. A tense and violent sequence among the street stalls of Chicago's Italian neighborhood, where a turncoat gangster is chased and killed in front of his little daughter, delivers a welcome jolt after all the handwriting experts and accountants' ledgers. But the movie always slinks back to Ford, suffering valiantly - he's such an irresistible target it's no wonder Kelley can't help needling him. And it's Kelley's sly, smug performance that lends The Undercover Man the subversive grit that, in the absence of Cummins (or any of her sisters), it sorely needs.
