MAN IN THE ATTIC is our old fiend Jack the Ripper, in the fourth movie adaptation of Marie Belloc Lowndes 1913 novel “The Lodger”. Hitchcock did a silent version in 1927, his first thriller. The incredibly prolific Maurice Elvey (197 directorial credits) made the earliest sound go in 1932, John Brahm staged the best regarded venture in 1944. Those first three kept the title The Lodger. This modestly budgeted entry from 1953 switched up the marquee grabber but re-used the script Barré Lyndon wrote for the ’44 version; the return visit shares the chore with Robert Presnell Jr. This time around direction was entrusted to Hugo Fregonese, who steered a number of good B-pictures in the early 50’s (My Six Convicts, Decameron Nights, The Raid, Black Tuesday); helped by his cameraman and the composer he does well in the atmosphere department, but the retreaked script shorts out, key supporting players are bland and suspense jumps out the window seven minutes in as soon as Jack Palance comes on screen. Gee, who do you think Jack will turn out to be? *

London, 1888. As startled bobbies and stymied Scotland Yard continue to be drawn & quartered (sorry) by the fog-shrouded sicko with a nasty nickname, a tall, polite stranger rents rooms from a middle-aged couple who need the extra quid. ‘Mr. Slade’ (Jack the Palance) is really pleased that the new digs include an attic. Privacy, you see, for his ‘odd hours’ and specialized scientific needs as a research pathologist. That his nighttime ‘work’ is pathological and that his name is...slayed?…doesn’t unduly wig out the landlady, possibly because she’s played by Frances Bavier, otherwise known as ‘Aunt Bee’ (from a dozier part of the Empire). When Mr. Slade finds out that the landlady’s niece is a curvy showgirl named Lili, who puts on leg-ogling acts at a ‘nightclub for gentlemen’, one can deduce (in a few seconds) where all this will lead before the 82-minute running time closes with a shot of the full moon glowing in the mist over the Thames. Of course, despite that Big Ben should be ringing over nearly everything about the guy, Lili (French for “Sure, I’m available”) is intrigued by Slade. True, there are a few ladies peering thru the perp stats who fall head over strangled throat for imprisoned serial killers, but at least it’s wise to do so after the dude is locked away. Just sayin’.

Jack Palance could be subtle, but it wasn’t his standard modus operandi: it’s almost a shame he wasn’t teamed up with Rod Steiger and Lee J. Cobb; loosed as a pack they’d chew thru more scenery than the wildebeest migration on the Serengeti. The subplot jazz with the showgirl is a loser, not only because it brings in a couple of dance numbers that belong in a musical about speakeasy Chicago (Victorian Era London didn’t know thighs were even a thing, let alone flashing dozens of ’em in tart togs that would make a Tahitian blush) but because blah leading lady Constance Smith and bland supporting actor Byron Palmer stir nothing other than a reflex reach for the FF key.

Satisfactorily scored by Hugo Friedhofer, well photographed by Leo Tover, both pros helping director Fregonese waft enough atmosphere to hopefully keep a modicum of interest that’s not otherwise dispelled by lazy writing and cheesy acting. Box office barely rippled, let alone ripped, $1,000,000, 213th place.

With Rhys Williams, Sean McClory, Harry Cording, Lisa Daniels, Isabel Jewell and Ben Wright.

* Man, oh man—for some (manly?) reason 1953 was a veritable maneater in the title field. In order of box office receipts: The Man Behind The Gun, The Man Between, Man In The Dark, The Man From The Alamo, Man On A Tightrope, Man In The Attic, The Man From Cairo and Man of Conflict.  Man alive!

Jack ripped off—The Lodger was remade in 2009, and flopped. No doubt another version will crop up down the line. History’s most famous back alley maniac can be found alive & unwell in A Study In Terror, Murder By Decree, Time After Time and From Hell. 

Frances Bavier (1902-1989) won fame via ten years on The Andy Griffith Show and Mayberry R.F.D.  Byron Palmer’s tinsel tour was brief: he did later marry actress/dancer Georgine Darcy, who those ‘in the know’ knew as ‘Miss Torso’ from Rear Window. He passed away in 2009. Irish actress Constance Smith also saw career hopes fade, her private life unraveling to an ending that wasn’t a happy one. She died in 2003.