Review of The Beast with Five Fingers

The first ten or fifteen minutes of "The Beast with Five Fingers," while the Victor Francen character is still alive with both hands intact, I find the most interesting, with the exception of the crawling-hand scenes. In a room filled with fascinating faces and powerful character actors like Lorre and David Hoffman, Francen commands the most attention as the willful, moody Francis Ingram. His talent is made the most of in his short time on screen, unlike Peter Lorre's, which seems somewhat wasted in a part that could have made much better use of his depth. Nothing Robert Alda says ever rings with sincerity to these ears--he always sounds like a smarmy car salesman or a drugstore Lothario, and it stretches credulity that Andrea King would want to run away with him rather than stay with the rich, talented Ingram. One thing about this film that cracks me up is that Andrea King's character, Julie, must be the deafest personal care attendant on the planet. Ingram shouts for her on at least three different occasions and she doesn't appear (for plot reasons). When he's calling from his bedroom after waking from some sort of attack, and then rolling down the hall in his wheelchair still calling, you'd think that his nurse would hear his pitiful cries!