Unexciting, to say nothing of unfrightening, adaptation of an Eric Ambler thriller: the baroque style of Orson Welles generates vague malaise easier than thrills. Officially credited to Norman Foster (who directed some good films, the better of them, such as Rachel and the Stranger, in a plainer-spun, squarer-shouldered style), it was planned and begun by Welles, who then, and not for the last time in his career, lost control of it. Those who want to protect Welles's reputation as a genius have not been too anxious to reclaim it for him. Those who see the large element of ham entertainer in him will feel it belongs in the balance. With Joseph Cotten, Dolores Del Rio, Agnes Moorehead, and Welles. (1942) — Duncan Shepherd
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