1955's "Female Jungle" was an early release from American International Pictures, when it was still called American Releasing Corporation, possibly a vanity project for actor Bert Kaiser, who not only plays a major role, but also co-wrote and produced (his only feature film, period). First time director Bruno Ve Sota, later responsible for 1955's "Dementia," 1958's "The Brain Eaters," and 1962's "Invasion of the Star Creatures," was a busy character actor in low budget films (particularly Roger Corman or Jerry Warren), and frequent villain in TV Westerns. Immeasurably aided by the cinematography of Universal ace Elwood 'Woody' Bredell, his best known titles including "Black Friday," "The Mummy's Hand," "Dark Streets of Cairo," "The Invisible Woman," "Man Made Monster," "Horror Island," "Hold That Ghost," "The Strange Case of Doctor Rx," "Mystery of Marie Roget," "The Ghost of Frankenstein," "Sherlock Holmes and the Voice of Terror," and "Phantom Lady." The film looks very good, the setup taking place almost in real time, just over an hour, starting off with the strangling murder of a pretty young blonde (not Jayne Mansfield, but Eve Brent, also making her film debut). She turns out to be a famous starlet, whose rise to the top was aided by news columnist Claude Almstead (John Carradine), who, like Clifton Webb's Waldo Lydecker in "Laura," remained confident that she'd always return to him whenever she strayed. There's a starving artist, Alex Voe (producer Bert Kaiser), who discovers Almstead at his apartment door at 2AM, curiously demanding a sketch performed; his not so faithful wife Peggy (Kathleen Crowley) has no problem accompanying the older man back to his place for a nightcap and moonlight swim. Ultimately, the film stubbornly focuses on its least interesting character, boozing cop Jack Stevens (Lawrence Tierney), barely recovered from his alcoholic blackout, conducting an investigation on the fly that never really picks up steam. Jayne Mansfield is absolutely stunning in her film debut, capably handling her supporting role as Candy Price, alternately carrying on with Voe and Stevens, all kisses with each man she comes across; too bad she too gets bumped off. Small parts are well played by director Ve Sota, James Kodl as the saloon owner, and especially Davis Roberts, so good in TV comedies like SANFORD AND SON, a very sober and believable performance as the janitor, usually a role played strictly for comic relief. It's not surprising to find John Carradine in such impoverished circumstances, and it's happily one of his meatiest roles of the 50s; bespectacled, dapper, and clean shaven, either a red herring or a killer, seemingly with understandable designs on another man's beautiful wife. The denouement is a lengthy one, and in his capable hands, ultimately satisfying (the picture would have been nothing without his presence). The pacing slowed by the dialogue-heavy script, it's downbeat but surprisingly good given the little known actors involved.

I'm not into old flicks from the 50's and even the 60's but still, I have to buy some to complete my collection. But it came clear after this one, I don't like horrors from that era but crime stories I do like. The reason is very simple, they don't use cheap effects. But still, they have to give you a special reason to watch them. This one still stands after those years due the perfect editing, what I mean is that they use single camera to make those flicks, so when you see a cut it's been taken from another take. Mostly faults are visible in expression of faces or drinks that are for example empty and suddenly they're full again. Another reason to watch it is to see sex symbol Jayne Mansfield in her screen debut. Already in some sexy outfit and as seducer. A strange life she had dying at age 34. All acting is well done, of course no nudity in it but the use of blood dripping from one's hand is impressive for that era. When one is killed due gunshots, the close up and the blood running was also well done. It's not a master piece but it surely is still enjoyable.

I imagine the sole reason for most people to want to see this movie is for the screen debut of 50s cinema sex goddess Jayne Mansfield. However, the film itself stands up reasonably well after fifty years.The plot, as you are probably already aware, concerns the hunt for the killer of a Hollywood actress, murdered after she leaves a bar. An off-duty cop is in the frame as the killer and sets out to track down the real culprit.This movie was obviously done on the cheap but has a gritty edge to it and more than enough action and suspense to fill its meagre running time. Shot entirely at night the film has an oppressive feel and has good performances from all concerned. Jayne Mansfield, in her film debut, is very impressive as a slutty broad and performs well without her trademark squeal. Although obviously very attractive she isn't at all glamorous here and acts very well. For anyone in doubt of her abilities then Female Jungle proves that she definitely had something.Cheap, short and in the long term, forgettable, this is still an entertaining way to spend an hour. Don't break your neck to see it but if the opportunity arises, don't pass it by.

Having seen this movie recently for the first time I found it surprisingly arty. The classification cheap indie doesn't do the picture justice. The photography in sharp black and white – well, far more black than white -, the quirky camera angles and the editing are almost as good as in more famous film noirs of that period like, for example, Kiss Me Deadly.The story has a really uneasy feel to it. I am not sure if all that surrealism is intentional or mainly caused by a low budget, I just know that is is damn effective. The action unfolds in one dark night and feels like a claustrophobic nightmare. There are several similarities to Otto Preminger's Laura, the ever effective John Carradine is cast as a rich, arrogant art critic in the line of Waldo Lydecker. And he delivers all right. But who is Laura? There are three different women who occasionally pop up, dead or alive, in photographs on billboards, in sketches or framed paintings. They are not real but rather like figments in a man's imagination. Maybe they are the same woman altogether? Very confusing. And who is the man who imagines those women? Is it the caricaturist who thinks he is a failure as an artist? Or the alcoholic policeman? I could not help assuming that they were one and the same person, too. Just think of David Lynch's Lost Highway! It is not really clear, what is going on in this picture. People do strange things. Sneaking up to an apartment at 3 a.m. asking urgently, hysterically for a caricature, entering another apartment at 3.30 a.m., having a discussion with a woman in her bedroom while in the background the woman's husband tosses uncomfortably, desperately trying to sleep, entering a third apartment at 3.45 a.m. putting a head on the bosom of Jayne Mansfield who's reclining there - without any explanation. The police detectives refuse to take people to the precinct and want to conduct the investigation into a murder in a sleazy bar near where it happened. These strange scenes are not cheap - they work in a way that you start feeling slightly feverish.The set design is very good. Several fifties interiors and gadgets are nicely displayed. I admire all those movies in which great effect is created with little means. One reason why I like film noir where this tendency at times results in real art.