Review: Second Chance


Robert Mitchum stars as a talented boxer facing the dregs and minor leaguers somewhere in South America. He has lost his nerve, too scared to really give it 110% with his fists because of an unfortunate incident a while back when he accidentally killed an opponent with a deadly punch. Linda Darnell plays a former gangster’s moll targeted for a hit by her ex because she’s agreed to testify against him. Bodyguard Jack Palance has been sent to rub her out, but he’s actually smitten with her himself. Darnell, however, develops romantic feelings for Mitchum and vice versa. This does not sit well with creepy Palance.

 

Alarmingly shoddy given its talented cast and competent director in Rudolph Mate (“The Far Horizons”, “The Violent Men”, “Miracle in the Rain”), this 1953 crime/romance is a surprising dud. The quality of the print I saw was so poor that one suspects this one has been long forgotten, and frankly it deserves to be. Appallingly cheap, right down to the music score by the usually reliable Roy Webb (“Cat People”, “Bedlam”, “Notorious”) that sounds like something out of the silent era.

 

Skull-faced Jack Palance is immediately unsettling, but he’s unable to save this one where he spends most of his time walking around and chasing after leading lady Linda Darnell. When he gets a chance to speak, he gives it all he’s got and I reckon he was a better actor at this stage of his career than his tired late-career performances. Darnell is average, to be charitable, whilst the normally reliable Robert Mitchum is surprisingly uninteresting. He’s phoning it in here, like Burt Lancaster in “Rope of Sand” giving this the barest of minimum effort. It’s the worst performance I’ve ever seen him give. Supporting performances are extremely variable.

 

This is a hack-job, agonisingly slow, with Darnell and Mitchum (who have anti-chemistry together) playing two of cinema’s oldest clichés: Good-hearted people running from or trying to get past previous mistakes. Snore. Lousy back-projection at the cable car climax, which is otherwise the only decent moment in the film, though it is robbed of suspense by my complete lack of giving a fuck. I can’t for the life of me work out what possible use 3D would have for this story.

 

This isn’t even fit to be the arse-end of a B-movie double-bill. Palance is positively Satanic-looking as the villain, and breathes the only life into this boring cheapie. The screenplay is by Oscar Millard (“Dead Ringer”, “No Highway in the Sky”) and Sydney Boehm (“The Big Heat”, “Mystery Street”, “Violent Saturday”), from the story by D.M. Marshman, Jr (co-writer of “Sunset Blvd”). It was quite a box-office success, so perhaps I’m the one missing out here.

 

Rating: D+

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