STARRING: Jack Palance (Milo March), Anita Ekberg (Trudie Hall), Nigel Patrick (Sam Carter), Anthony Newley (Ernesto Garcia), Bonar Colleano (Martin Lomer), Sean Kelly (Rizzio), Sidney James (Franklin), Donald Pleasence (Organ grinder), Eric Pohlmann (Tristao), and Josephine Brown (Mrs. Frazur)
DIRECTOR: John Gilling SCREENPLAY: David Shaw (based on the novel by M.E. Chaber) PRODUCERS: Irving Allen and Albert R. Broccoli
Black and White
THE MAN INSIDE
A review by Howard Thompson of THE NEW YORK TIMES
Yesterday's new neighborhood theatre entry, The Man Inside, is a feeble excuse for a chase melodrama pasted against some excellent, authentic European backgrounds.
As Jack Palance (a detective) chases Nigel Patrick (a jewel thief), and Anita Ekberg tags along, the scenery shifts from Manhattan to Lisbon to Madrid to Paris and to London. Parks, hotels, alleyways and bars frame the principals in a ready-made atmosphere that is barely utilized.
Occasionally the camera pulls back for a sweeping, expensive panorama that dwarfs the whole mess. The customer will wonder why two producers like Irving Allen and Albert R. Broccoli went to so much trouble and so far afield. There's very little in the way of surprise or tension in David Shaw's script, based on a novel by M.E. Chaber. The same goes for John Gilling's direction of this Columbia release.
Only the first ten minutes or so manage to tingle, crammed with a brazen robbery, a murder and a dynamiting. Here, too, an actress named Josephine Brown, briefly stands out as a wonderfully frowsy landlady. The picture's best performance comes from another sideline player named Anthony Newley, as a Spanish cab driver.
Changing accent with each country, Mr. Palance stumbles through his assignment in hard-breathing embarrassment. Miss Ekberg, a vista herself, gapes soulfully. Mr. Patrick skips along like a rabbit (at one point he even carries one). But, again, those backgrounds are swell.