A classic but forgotten British crime drama, very gritty for its time and especially as its set in Newcastle although there are no Geordie accents. This is quite an evocatively told story that is essentially one of thieves falling out. A group of criminals led by Johnny (Michael Craig) has been planning a wages van robbery for several months but when the company ups the security the gang's inside man, the panicky Dennis (William Lucas), says the job is now impossible. But Johnny goes ahead anyway and a security man gets killed. The gang soon begins to fall apart and the dead man's wife (Billie Whitelaw) decides to hunt the gang down for her revenge. With all the action taking place in the backstreets and outskirts of Newcastle and shot in stark black & white this has a sense of realism that is unique to British films of this time. The violence and sex were deemed very risqué in the early 60s and the film has some great character actors including Tom Bell and Kenneth Griffiths. Billie Whitelaw is especially good here with that steely look she had that made her very menacing. A thoroughly entertaining crime film from a time when British films were something very, very special indeed.
Before BACS transfers there were weekly runs by trucks with cases of smackers aboard for allocation to those who toiled in company offices and factories. Human nature being what it is, there were frequent attempts to prevent these from reaching their rightful destination.
Such is the case in Payroll (1961). Based upon a now-vanished novel by Derek Bickerton, it was adapted by George Baxt, who worked on various films at this time, including that cult item Circus of Horrors, before himself turning to crime fiction - notably with a series featuring one Pharoah Love. This script supplied director Sidney Hayers with ample material to fashion his depiction of a gang of crooks whose efforts take place in a wonderfully deliniated Newcastle (that said, they are all readily comprehensible) where light and shadow - within and without - become characters themselves thanks to the work of cinematographer Ernest Srewart whose visual take merges well with the percussive nature of Reg Owen’s jazz-inflected music.
As for the characters themselves, the gang is led by Michael Craig, a man of smoother aspect than the cohorts in whom he has placed what, inevitably, turns out to be undue trust. Things go wrong from the start, during a brilliantly choreographed raid on the van. With a policeman dead, it is now more than a matter of money; for one thing there is a grieving and sassy widow (played by Billie Whitelaw) whose counterpart is Francoise Prévost: in a hapless marriage, to one who is in on the details of the raid, the Frenchwoman hankers after the finer things in life; the embodiment of sultry, she is the driving force of the film.
Scarcely a moment lacks suspense, which is no mean achievement, something which keeps the plot aloft even when it appears to be guying the conventions of a heist scenario. Some two thirds of the way through there is some disintegration of the narrative, as if it has come to bear too much, but it has been sustained so well, with every character distinct, that one watches with near-wonder as events lead to an inevitable ending whose very image brings to mind that of Armored-Car Robbery a decade earlier.
Social realist crime story which owes plenty to the tough American heist films of the fifties. Four career criminals down on their luck hold up an armoured van. When the guns start to go off, the caper falls apart. Then the story segues into a revenge drama as the wife (Billie Whitelaw) of the dead security guard goes vigilante in search of his killers.
So it's a genre film, with a familiar theme of the futility of greed. It's mainly interesting for the location shoot around Newcastle, particularly the industrial regions and the shipyards. Which makes it feel like a forerunner to Get Carter and offers a great snapshot of the period. The workers live in the nice new suburban homes built since the war.
Michael Craig leads the gang, and he was usually one of Rank's pretty boys, but he makes a credible ruthless hoodlum. And the film gets a huge boost from French actor Françoise Prévost who plays the sexy, disappointed wife of the inside man who becomes Craig's rather mercenary moll. She turns out to want the stolen goods worst of all.
It isn't noir. There's a flat documentary look and it is mostly shot in the streets. The big band jazz score is a period standard, though still pretty good. The hold up is capably directed but there is little style and few surprises. Still, it's a lot of fun to see how far Craig's cold hearted villain will go for a suitcase full of money. Which is all the way.