The Vicious Circle

I found this a good, solid little mystery that could probably have been somewhat better had more imaginative forces been brought to bear on the story and filming. The one thing that is pretty much perfect about it is the acting, with just about everybody in it performing at peak efficiency when considering what they've got to work with. A couple of reviewers found John Mills a bit too straight or severe in his character's acceptance of the very strange things that are happening in his world, one remarking that Cary Grant did this kind of thing better for Hitchcock because Grant is an Everyman and Mills is not. I would have reversed that in a nanosecond. Until the Tom Courtenays of the world came along, Mills was about as much of an Everyman as the British Cinema could produce, and anybody who thinks of Cary Grant as an Everyman has a very elevated opinion of Man! Anyway, the Ambleresque premise and happenings in this film might have been better managed by Agatha Christie, who would at least have provided a better denouement than we get here. The one given here is pretty acceptable, but in no way special. Still, it makes sense, and that is as much as we can expect from most mystery stories. The film does hold the attention, because although we know that Mills is the victim of some nefarious plot (mainly because we are always with him and learn of each succeeding mysterious element at the same time as he does), the puzzle that is set up is really quite bizarre and we can't imagine how it will be explained away. It is, and acceptably so, but Christie would have had our jaws dropping as explanations poured forth. The film is held up and made excellent by the quality of the acting. There are no weak links in that regard, and Mills is supported admirably by Derek Farr, Roland Culver, Mervyn Johns, Lionel Jeffries and Wilfred Hyde-White (especially by the latter), and on the distaff side, just as excellently by Noelle Middleton as his fiancée and the always-admirable Rene Ray as a mysterious and somewhat duplicitous woman involved in causing Mills's problems. I might add that I was previously unfamiliar with Ms. Middleton, and she seemed to me totally first-rate, beautiful and downright classy throughout. I really must see more of her. (Ah, how I miss the 1950s!) Anyway, a solid Mills effort, and if not as excellent as some of his other films, that may just be an over-critical evaluation based on the extraordinary excellence of the film work he gave us over some 70 years of practicing his craft!

When Dr Latimer ( John Mills ) is asked by a friend ,to pick up a German actress, from London airport, and take her to her hotel, he agrees,later when he returns to his flat he finds the body of the murdered actress. This leads Mills into a world of blackmail, murder and a fake passport scam John Mills gives his usual solid performance, and other British stalwarts Derek Farr,Wilfred Hyde-White, Lionel Jeffries and Ronald Culver, make this film well worth watching.

This is a plot driven movie and extremely entertaining. Nothing startling or original within the plot, but crucially, it moves along at a great pace and therefore keeps your attention. I didn't really notice the acting which I guess is a good thing. John Mills was fine but did seem to take everything in his stride somewhat considering how his life was falling apart around him. He would be clumped on the head, stand up 20 seconds later, dust himself down and carry on as if nothing had happened. A minor quibble in a film with a strong story, authentic locations and a plot that continually keeps you guessing right up to its conclusion.

This is the perfect comfort film (and I don't mean Lance Comfort). You've rung in sick, it's raining outside, you've got a big piece of buttered toast ready and then this comes on afternoon telly. Except it doesn't anymore; it's all Jeremy Kyle and his irksome ilk: "I married my lesbian dad."

Anyway, The Vicious Circle stars good old dependable Johnny Mills pants as a doctor caught up in a – erm – vicious circle. It's one of those innocent man gets tangled up in something nasty but he doesn't know who to believe and he ends up questioning his own sanity. Commonplace everyday events become loaded with meaning – or else take on a whole new meaning: a man, Lionel Jeffries, claiming to be a reporter, isn't a reporter and can't be traced; a disembodied voice on the telephone, claiming to be a film director friend, is an impersonator. In the most effective moment of the film Mills returns to his friend's flat (Derek Farr) to find a party in full swing – except it's only a gramophone record of party noise playing in an empty apartment. Oh and there's also a neurotic female patient who says she found a dead body with a candlestick next to it while strolling on the common (the police find the candlestick in Mills' golf clubs.) The building blocks of civilised society – trust and taking things at face value – become eroded and all we are left with is paranoia and fear. Not that you'd know it to look at Mills. It's a stiff upper lip and a nice round of golf all the way. It's how they did things back then, you know.

The problem the film has is that it asks us to trust Mills (would you trust a man who wears a cravat under his polo top?) and so we never doubt Mills' innocence. After the police reveal that they believe him too the suspense drains out of things and we're only left with the question of who's behind it all and why.

This is no minor classic. But I wouldn't dismiss it quite as quickly as my fellow reviewers. It looks and feels rather like one of those British 'Quota quickies' churned out sausage-style by Butchers films in the 1950's and 60's. Which is not a bad thing. It's longer than those efforts, though, and has more 'names' - the star is John Mills.

I enjoy the way that the piece depicts safe, sterile suburban middle class life turned upside down. Well, not quite 'turned upside down' exactly: there's a charming little scene where dear Johnnie takes his mind off the fact that he's a man on the run for murder by playing a few rounds of golf. The film has a most agreeable atmosphere of suspicion and distrust. Certainty and normality fray at the edges. Nobody can be trusted. Your smoothly amiable best friend of longstanding just might have it in for you. Your fiancée may not be what she seems.

There are some very enjoyable performances. I particularly liked Wilfrid Hyde-White as a civilised but sinister late-night caller. In fact, pretty much everybody in this film does civilised and sinister rather well. Mills is his usual watchable self. The direction is largely uninspired but is nicely unobtrusive: events unfold with pace and sharp simplicity.

If you want to catch a true lost masterpiece of suburban British post-war paranoia, look for Lance Comfort's "Pit of Darkness", with William Franklyn as another urbane professional who finds his routine existence up-ended. There's only one moment in 'The Vicious Circle' to match that film for my money. Don't ask me why, but the scene where Mills turns up at a 'social gathering' and finds only an empty apartment flooded with the sound of pre-recorded party chatter unnerves me every time. It seems that there's a tinge of genuine madness and disruption just lurking at the corners of the frame.