The heat can make us all go a little bit crazy sometimes. . . but what happens when the thermometer is ready to pop and you’ve just escaped from the insane asylum? A confined, claustrophobic, sweltering film noir, 1950’s Dial 1119, directed by Gerald Mayer (son of Louis B. Mayer), makes you feel the heat.
The striking original one sheet poster for Dial 1119
Young, baby faced Gunther Wyckoff (Marshall Thompson) isn’t what he looks, he is, for lack of a better term, bonkers. Having already killed numerous people, it was police psychologist Dr. John Faron (Sam Levene), who was able to save his life from the electric chair.
After a short introduction where Wyckoff is able to swipe a gun on a bus, he eventually boards himself up in a bar called Oasis (it was previously a fortified speakeasy), using its patrons as hostages so that the police deliver Dr. Faron for a chat. The poor souls are: the most disgruntled bartender you’ll ever meet, ironically named Chuckles (William Conrad – Cannon); his on pins and needles assistant, Skip (Keefe Brasselle) – whose wife is in the hospital; the most drunken and flirty femme fatale, Freddy (Virginia Field); an apathetic newspaper reporter who has just quit, Harrison D. Barnes (James Bell) – bad luck, as this might just be the biggest scoop of the year. . . if he survives; and young Helen (Andrea King). . . who has decided to meet up with a much older (and married) man, Earl (Leon Ames), for a weekend fling.
Definitely no oasis for them, at least the watering hole has air conditioning. . . though that may not be much comfort, for when Wyckoff looks at the cool air rushing from the vent, he mimics it by blowing back (talk about disturbed). With stubborn Captain Henry Keiver (Richard Rober) in charge of the situation, he will not only have to deal with the unyielding psychopath, but also the growing civilian and media presence watching from the street. Unwilling to allow the doctor in to diffuse the situation, how many will die due to the Captain’s black and white play calling? Will any of the patrons survive. . . and, if so, will their pre-hostage plans hold up?
Capturing the essence of a never moving stage play, it is an example of a low budget working wonders. The audience feels captured along with the hostages, their only view to the outside a very modern television that runs in the corner of the bar. Adding to the allure, the characters are finely formed, realistic people that are brought to life by contract players for M.G.M. You might never ‘chuckle’ more at a disgruntled bartender, while it is unlikely you’ll find a more sluttish performance in 1950 than Freddy, and it’s intriguing watching Helen’s cold feet only grow colder – not due to the air conditioning, but rather a combination of Earl’s chickenhearted soul and her own conscience working against her baser instincts. And, of course, it all centres on Wyckoff. . . his baby-faced exterior hiding an interior that is rotten to the core – something a bus rider at the beginning of the movie quickly realizes (great facial acting from Argentina Brunetti).
A B movie that will have you watching with bated breath, Dial 1119 is chock full of claustrophobic tension and sharp suspense. Edgy, surprisingly violent, and quite novel for the time (who had a tv in a bar in 1950?), it will definitely hold your attention. So, if your local watering hole isn’t doing it for you, visit this oasis – it should be just that for noir fanatics.