Decades ago, I used to hang out in San Francisco's North Beach at a little bar called the Paper Doll, long-gone. I thought I'd never see it again in any form and here it is used as a central murder location along with unusual shots of Chinatown, Telegraph Hill and Russian Hill, all gritty location shots for this tight little noir about a unhappy killer driven by a loathing of women; it's a fast-paced 88 minute "B" movie with some "A" credentials including an aging Adolphe Menjou, barely recognizable without mustache and a tux, and director Edward Dmytryk, both working with a script that rushes the viewer along with the ruthlessly driven dry-cleaner delivery man, unhappy with the world and with his sickness.Keeping in mind this was a low-budget film made quickly on-site with minimum studio interference, it's a riveting, if occasionally dated, thriller. A note: although set in San Francisco, the film goes out of its way NOT to identify the city, a fact pointed out in the casually excellent feature commentary by Eddie Muller, one of my personal faves.

Seeing this you'll get an idea of what's in the mind of people who aren't quite raised right.This is just a beautifully filmed little noir. The San Fransisco scenery is just stunning. A really well put together film about a guy who just doesn't like women who talk down to him. You can see him seething underneath as he slunks away in those instances but you just know that he's gonna pop...and he does.This one all comes down to getting people help for psychological problems early on in life. Some go through the system and never get what they need in the way of some kinda therapy and they eventually...fall through the cracks. This guy wants the help but it's just not their.I can't say enough at how well this film looks. Add substance and a really good story and that makes for a worthwhile watch. Give this one a go.

A serial killer stalks brunettes in San Francisco. It is a rare film of the period in that it is told mostly from the perspective of the killer. Why he kills is explained within the first few minutes with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. His mama was mean to him when he was a child. The reason for his hatred of women is further magnified in exaggerated vignettes where women are mean to him. Typical of producer Kramer, the film is rather preachy in espousing its views on crime and punishment. The gritty San Francisco locales are good, but not enough to overcome the contrived plot. The acting is uneven, with Menjou and Kiley (his second film) coming off best.

The trouble is Eddie Miller (Arthur Franz) just can't keep himself from shooting women. Plus, he does it from a distance with a sniper's rifle which makes him doubly hard to catch. Today, the sex angle would likely be played up, turning him into a serial rapist. Here, however, his sick motivation looks more like pure rage than sexual desire. Everywhere he goes, he's either humiliated or rejected by women. He's attractive enough (probably too much so to be credible), but he has a personality problem. In short, Eddie simply can't accept himself as a deliveryman; instead, he builds himself up with obvious exaggerations to impress strangers, such that when pretty barfly May Nelson approaches, he ends up offending her with wild stories. Like Psycho's Norman Bates, the problem probably goes all the way back to Mom.It's certainly a very watchable movie. The San Francisco locations are used to great effect-- the cops surveilling downtown rooftops from on high sets up a marvelous panoramic look at the city. Then too, the smokestack scene with its human fly amounts to pure cinematic magic. A problem in the film lies with too much obviousness where a lighter hand is needed. Thus, when Eddie goes on a little downtown stroll, he doesn't encounter just one woman-caused frustration, but a whole heavy-handed series of them. Too bad, because we get the idea early on that petty annoyances involving women amount to major injuries in Eddie's twisted world. Then there's the let's- hit-you-over-the-head-in-case-you-don't-get-it last scene; it's about as necessary as strip-poker at a nudist colony. Still and all, the movie's heart is in the right place, even if it appears made at times for the slow-witted.One big benefit for 50's-era fans is cult favorite Marie Windsor in a low-cut evening gown, purring her seductive lines to Eddie even as she exploits him to the hilt. What a great cameo from a really unusual actress.Too bad their scene together comes so early because it's a pip and a movie high point. Speaking of film eras, compare the themes and locations of this movie (1951) with the cinematically similar, Vietnam-era Dirty Harry (1971). Tellingly, the hopeful reformism that Kramer&Co. plead for in Sniper has been replaced by a kind of hopeless vigilantism where Harry (Clint Eastwood) ends up rejecting city hall, killing the sniper, and throwing away his policeman's badge. Mark it down to what you will, but the change-over is pretty stark and startling. Anyway, this little B-film created quite a stir at the time and remains an interesting piece of movie history, well worth thinking about