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Best movie of this year hands down!

The performances transcend the film's tropes, grounding it in characters that feel more complete than this subgenre often produces.

This is a small, humorous movie in some ways, but it has a huge heart. What a nice experience.

The film never slows down or bores, plunging from one harrowing sequence to the next.

As others have observed, Paul Wendkos' "The Burglar" owes something to "The Asphalt Jungle" (the armature of the plot), "The Lady From Shanghai" (the Fun House sequence), and Alfred Hitchcock (the use of landmark locations in Philadelphia and Atlantic City).It has many extraordinarily arty shots and edits, from between somebody's legs, sometimes a POV of someone getting punched in the face, close ups galore, strange camera angles, stark lighting, and all the rest of it.And none of it hangs together. Three hoodlums and a dame burgle the mansion of a phony swami in Philadelphia and steal an emerald necklace. Before pulling off the heist they sit around in this shabby flat, sweating and arguing. After they have the fortune in their hands, they sit around the same flat, sweating and arguing. There's not a smile in a cartload, and little enthusiasm. Peter Capell, as Baylock, is the jewelry expert. He's been hijacked by his adrenal medullas. He sweats a bath tub. And he overacts to the point at which, had he gestured, shouted, and rolled his eyes more often, I'd have joined him in his irretrievable insanity.The young Jayne Mansfield is attractive enough in a flashy way and is as generously proportioned as ever. Wendkos has shot her silhouette in profile once or twice and she's unmistakable. Her bosom precedes her by a quarter of a mile. But she can't act, and when she's being pursued by a murderer in a shadowy House of Horrors she minces hurriedly and her high heels clack a tattoo along the floor that sounds like some kind of monstrous Japanese getas gone berserk.I appreciate the effort that went into the production, and some of the location shooting was agreeable, but overall it was dull and depressing.

The Burglar is directed by Paul Wendkos and adapted to screenplay by David Goodis from his own novel of the same name. It stars Dan Duryea, Jayne Mansfield, Martha Vickers, Peter Capell, Micky Shaughnessy and Stewart Bradley. Music is by Sol Kaplan and cinematography by Don Malkames.Nat Harbin (Dan Duryea) is the leader of a small gang of crooks who burgle a necklace from the home of a famous spiritualist. One of Nat's gang is Gladden (Mansfield), the daughter of the man who took Nat under his wing when Nat was an orphan. In return Nat has always looked after Gladden. But once the necklace is in their hands, the group begins to come apart, and with outside forces muscling their way in, it's probably not going to end well…It sat on the shelf for two years, where no buyer could be found, but then Jayne Mansfield became one of the "it" girls and The Burglar saw the light of day. Long out of circulation it became a film that noir enthusiasts greatly courted over the years, but now it's widely available was it worth the wait?Well it has proved to be a very divisive entry in the film noir universe. Undoubtedly it has style to burn, director Wendkos has observed some of his film noir peers and dripped their influences all over his movie; and not in a subtle way either. Sweaty close-ups, shock cutting, oblique angled frames and shadow adorned sequences attempt to put oomph in the narrative, while the newsreel opening and amusement park finale scream out that the film wants to be loved by the noir crowd.It's all very neatly constructed, and with Kaplan's bold brassy score laid over the top, it deserves its noir badge. But it does feel like art for arts sake at times, like Wendkos is working over time visually to compensate for a weak screenplay. It becomes evident that it wasn't a great idea to let Goodis adapt from his own novel, it needed a screenplay writer capable of putting more emotional carnage into the characterisations.There is no flow to the story and the actors often look lost and not sure where to take the source material to. Even the ever reliable noir hero Duryea is straining to make his character work, a victim of extraneous nonsense that doesn't seem to serve any purpose to plotting. Mansfield's performance is one of the hot topic divisive points, but I don't see how, it's awkward and her limitations as an actress are evident, no matter how foxy she looks. While Stewart Bradley in a key role just flat out can't act, something that draws some of the sting from the finale.The visual smarts and some nice location photography in Philly and Atlantic City ensure it's not a dead loss, while if you prepare yourself for a character study rather than a pulpy noir pot-boiler then that sets expectation levels correctly. But it's not one to recommend with confidence; even if Marty Scorsese is a fan! 5/10

Henry Hathaway's movie The Black Rose concerns a Saxon squire who travels to China and back again during the Middle Ages encountering marvels, romance and adventures along the way. It's a pretty and fun Technicolor movie containing a soupçon of rapture. On an intellectual level it can be fairly piffling until close to the end when the Norman King of England refuses to persecute the rebel Walter any longer, recognising that his animosity towards Normans is far from treason, but just a political manifestation of something very personal, conflict with his father. It was an eye opener to me at the time, how much Freudian issues play a subliminal part in our politics. This sort of mature perspective is to be found in The Burglar. It represents an opening up, an efflorescence of noir, typical of the late era (Mickey One, Blast of Silence). In noir authority is often an oppressive force, but in The Burglar, there's the suggestion that it's not the authorities and the system that pre-figure our doom, but our upbringing. It's up to you though, there's leeway for you to see it either way. Who's the enemy is it dad or Big Brother? In one scene, seemingly totally unconnected from the rest of the film, Nat (The Burglar - Dan Duryea) mooches around the precincts of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and is seen sitting directly below the statue of John Barry, the first head of the United States Navy, in Independence Square, three miles away, just moments before. In sight is Independence Hall where the Declaration of Independence was signed. The locations are deserted and he's watched over by some sort of passant sculptural beastie and towered over by fluted columns. Are these relics of the past or an overarching system and structure in which he's alternately powerless and hounded or irrelevant? Does the beastie see him, or is it just a charming piece of stone and is the indelible stain of Dad the issue he can't rub off? I saw a film Paul Wendkos made decades later, Hell Boats, and there was a general ambivalence there as well, which I find very stimulating and mature. There are no easy answers to The Burglar. Although I've mentioned Freud, The Burglar isn't one of those annoying movies that are dogmatically Freudian snoozers; the conversations surrounding the past all come off as extremely natural in effect.A little tardily, onto the plot! A bunch of small time burglars figure they can up the ante and go for some sparklers. It doesn't take a genius to work out that fate's cosh is waiting for each of them in the shadows one way or the other. Dan Duryea's lead is the standout, but you gotta feel sorry for Peter Capell's hyperactive pop-eyed lookout Baylock. Scared of his own shadow he dreams of owning a plantation in Central America, he hysterically calls it buying "ground", as if what he stands on the rest of the time is something that might open up and swallow him at any time. It's just so clever how this movie grinds out a noir atmosphere with slight tricks of vocabulary.Even loving this movie with all my heart, I must admit that a relevant criticism for many genre fans wondering if they should watch The Burglar or not is that it lacks thrill in the middle section of the film, principally because Nat has a death wish and isn't putting up much of a fight. Things pick up for the finale on the famous Atlantic City Steel Pier, which comes off as a merging the skews of Lady From Shanghai and Mickey One.Wendkos' film should have lead to a glittering career, but more meretricious aesthetics triumphed.

This is one of those extravagantly stylized late-period noirs, one which palpitates with flamboyant cinematic technique. It belongs in the same club as those other exaggerated, self-consciously arty noirs of the late 50s/early 60s, like Touch of Evil, Kiss Me Deadly, Blast of Silence and Sam Fuller's contemporaneous contributions to the genre. Wendkos directs like a recent A+ film school graduate showing off every Hitchcock and Welles trick he's learned -- there are many stunning edits (he is also credited as the film's editor), several strikingly composed shots, and a suitably seedy background (the fact that the crooks' hideout is right next to a railway line full of speeding streamliners is a boon). At the same time, he toes the studio line of narrative clarity and cohesive action scenes enough to make this suitable viewing for the non-buff (one can see why he spent most of his years in television, but at the same time could dazzle with over-the-top effects in The Mephisto Waltz.) Fans of Atlantic City's Steel Pier are in for a treat in the film's climax (which owes a bit too much to The Lady from Shanghai) -- we even get to see the diving horse. But notably, we also see the soggy marshes that border the city and reflect the protagonists' own situational quagmire. It may not have the integrity of the more subtly devastating noirs of the Siodmak 40s, but it has its own postmodern tradition to uphold. It's worth picking this one up even on the third-generation dupes that are now in circulation; a wide-screen dvd restoration is definitely in order.