Splendid British b-thriller in which an army deserter pawns his service revolver with spectacularly bad timing and is mistaken for a member of a gang who not only hold up the shop he is in, but kill a policeman in the process. The film has a really interesting focus on the plight of the thousands of army deserters who presumably in 1949 were still keeping themselves scarce, with our leading man arguing that it’s a missed opportunity, as these men have something useful to contribute to society. Both leads are great, particularly in a romantic seaside interlude that works more convincingly than romantic subplots usually do in films of this genre and era, and there’s a pretty good turn by Edward Underdown as one of the baddies - his Australian accent wanders so much that the a line appears to have been added to the script to say that his character is not actually from Australia but has visited lots. Fun fact - he was Ian Fleming’s choice to play a movie version of James Bond (but no one else’s). Extras on the Network blu ray are slim - an alternative, happier German ending and a stills gallery, but the movie is engaging, undemanding entertainment.
"Appearances can be deceptive, Inspector."
"Sergeant."
This exchange takes place between Joan Hopkins, who appeared in too few films, and Laurence Harvey, in one of his first roles, and is typical of the adroit pace at which Man on the Run (1947) moves through a post-war Soho whose pubs, cafés, shops and rooming houses are well caught, a world in which spivs and worse are on the loose.
Derek Farr plays a deserter who has been spotted, blackmailed (by Kenneth More), and gone in search of the requested funds only to find himself caught in a hold-up where a policeman is murdered. He has to hide, and finds shelter with department-store assistant Joan Hopkins whose divorce proved slower than her husband's fatal war wounds, which means that she has a useful pension. It is fascinating to learn that there were 20,000 deserters at this time, many of them with as good reason as Derek Farr to do so; their existence, one of false papers and fear of exposure, laid them open to crime, whether as victim or perpetrator.
To say any more about the way in which events move, with the Thames almost a character in its own right, would spoil things - but it is curious to find that, for the German release, the final two minutes take place in larger premises, and that - but, no, a reviewer should follow Joan Hopkins's example and not give anything away.