Pretty bad, only good thing about it really was Peter Lorre and he was only in it a little bit.

Could have been great with a more talented director.

This is an odd little film, although I can't say too much without giving away crucial plot points. It has a dreamlike quality to it, for very good reasons. There's some great lighting and dialogue, and some exciting little touches. Cummings, who failed to impress me in either Saboteur or The Accused, seems to fit this role better. Michèle Morgan has a mysterious, tormented presence. Cochran doesn't do much for me as the lead antagonist but what a treat to have Lorre as his sarcastic henchman.

B movie production values, but the talent behind the camera makes for interesting contrasts between the harshness of the visuals and the somewhat dreamy atmosphere, furthered by some strange turns in the plot. There's something not quite right from the very first scene, but for the first hour it fits together well enough that those lingering thoughts are pushed aside, until a turn of events turns everything upside down. Great visuals and strong performances make up for lingering plot issues.

michele morgan's seaside midnight ponderings exist as haunting visualizations of spiritual mortality: she stands encased in a virginal white dress as her tearful visage washes in and out of a mass of rushing water in a series of ethereal crossfades, her attire changing to a deep black gown in a starling narrative fissure that stylistically and conceptually lays the course for the film's later immersions into the characters' murky subconscious. mystifying and beautiful. arthur ripley was insane.