“Railroaded?” didn’t test well with audiences, and “Railroaded;” sounded as if you’d have to wait for the sequel to finish the story. The plot is basic - ordinary joe gets tagged with a murder beef, upright cop gathers the evidence and is eventually convinced the kid’s innocent. Otherwise, he realizes, there’s no movie.
Where the devil is that? LA, probably; if they had to paint New York and have someone run behind the punched-out holes with a flashlight for the opening credits, they didn’t fly a unit out to Gotham for some Times Square. You can pick out a few brands - Florsheim shoes on the extreme right, Bond clothiers (which had a big store in Times Square, of course) in the middle. Where was LA’s version of Times Square in the 40s and 50s?
John Ireland. He’s one of your psycho gunmen, always a noir favorite. One of those evil birds who loves his work. The only thing about “Railroaded” that’s any good is him, and even he gets tiresome. Okay, you have ice water in your veins. You like to slap around dames. You smoke. It’s a black and white crime movie. Get in line. Sensing perhaps that he wasn’t scary enough, they gave him a trademark:
Hard to tell here, but trust me: he’s perfuming his bullets. That’s right. He wipes all of his bullets with perfume, thereby guaranteeing the cops will identify his handiwork and look for a guy who smells like Chanel #45.
The film did not hold my interest. It put my interest down and made shooing motions, as if to send it out of the room. One of the problems was the Upright Cop, played by Hugh Beaumont of “Leave It to Beaver” fame. Attempting perhaps to cast himself in the Fred MacMurray role - you know, genial actor who gives himself a new career as a laconic, frozen-faced hard-case - he acts tough, in the modern mode. He’s really bad at it.
Hugh Beaumont, Tough Guy. Tough as a . . . .thing. That's tough.